aliceindiamonds - Tumblr blog

[aliceindiamonds]

there basically isn't a single established action archetype that you can't improve tenfold by making it a girl

[aliceindiamonds]

babygirl

[aliceindiamonds]

Motivation

Leon S Kennedy x Female Reader

Written because since I started playing the remake of RE4 I’ve had complete and utter brainrot. Why’d they have to make him so hot?! I’ve always been a Chris girl but shiiiiiiiit… I have literally never written smut before so feedback is super appreciated.

Set just after RE4. Leon is in an established but still fairly early days relationship with reader.

“Hey, are you still with me?” Leon asked, his smooth tenor breaking my reverie. His piercing blue eyes looked into mine, making me feel warm.

I looked up at him and scratched my chin, grounding myself back within the room. “Of course,” I mumbled, wiggling my mouse to bring my computer back to life. “I was just thinking.”

Across the room, he was pouring himself a Merlot into one of my grandmother’s old crystal glasses. “Thinking about..?” he prompted, running his tongue across his bottom teeth temptingly. I breathed deeply and watched as he took a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“It’s nothing,” I replied with a shake of my head. We were now a week on from Leon’s return. He told me very little of where he’d been or what he’d been doing, but I knew it was something very important and very dangerous. I had noticed, as he emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist one morning, that he was adorned with brand new scars, red and angry amongst the pinker, lighter ones. Now, as he leaned elegantly against my oak counters, he looked tired but inexplicably handsome, as always. “How are you feeling?”

“Feeling good, baby,” he answered, moving around the kitchen to where I sat at the island. “Just glad to be back.” His hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I could smell his aftershave: sandalwood and oud, and a sweet floral top note. Behind me, he looked at my computer screen with interest. “Still that essay?”

I groaned. “Don’t, I know.” This particular piece of work had been hanging over me since before he left for Spain. “I can’t bring myself to commit to it.”

“Would you like me to help motivate you?” He asked teasingly and pressed his lips to my cheek.

“I am unmotivatable,” I sighed, and I tilted my head as his lips kissed softly and slowly in a path towards my neck.

“I’m not sure, I think I might have a few ways…” His breath was hot against my skin, and his words went straight to my core.

Since his return, we hadn’t had any intimacy further than holding each other at night, in our pyjamas. Leon had only stayed two nights, and he was exhausted, and frankly seemed traumatised. When he had first arrived, I had bust out the full works- soft, blue lingerie I had bought specially, excited to feel him again- but he had looked at me with darkened, heavy eyes, and we had just gone to sleep. Then I had wanted to wait until it was on his terms.

“And what methods might you be suggesting, Mr Kennedy?” I breathed in anticipation. He set his glass of wine down on the counter before holding his hand out to me.

“I think you know.”

I took his strong, calloused hand and he all but pulled me to the bedroom. Closing the door behind us, he pushed me against the wall, leaning in to kiss me. His lips were soft, reddened by wine, and he tasted sweet. I moaned softly as he tangled one hand in my hair, the other massaging my bare shoulder gently. The feeling of his skin on mine sent heat coursing through my body, and I wanted him so badly. His hand slipped down, reaching for the bottom of my t-shirt, and I opened my eyes. “Hang on!” I burst out, and he looked at me in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Leon asked, his blue eyes so sincere and gorgeous.

“Absolutely nothing,” I reassured him softly, caressing his face. “Just give me a minute, let me have a shower and change- I don’t feel very sexy-”

He raised an eyebrow. “But you look beautiful,” he protested, and I scoffed, stepping away from him. I pulled a face as I looked down at my leggings and faded tee. “You’re perfect, and I want you like this,” he murmured, pulling me backwards into him and pressing his sizeable erection into my rear. I melted instantly.

“Fine-” I grumbled, “-but only because I can’t resist.” He laughed good-naturedly, and the sound was music to my ears. “God, you’re gorgeous,” I said to the air, and he nibbled the tip of my ear as his hands crept under my t-shirt and found my bare chest- I never wore a bra around the house.

“No, you are,” he murmured, and his fingers cupped my breasts, pressing into the sensitive skin in a way that made me catch my breath. He ground into me from behind, and kissed my neck again, and I moaned, and he lost patience. “Take it off- you need to be naked right now.”

Hunger in his eyes, hunger that made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, he gripped the bottom of my t-shirt and whipped it over my head. Bare chested in front of him, I felt exposed, but he looked at me as though I were a painting. His fingers hooked into my underwear and leggings, pulling them off in one and leaving me naked. “Fuck…” he groaned, rubbing himself through his jeans.

Avoiding the feeling of flaming embarrassment that his unbridled want brought to my cheeks, I reached forward to relieve him of his fitted grey t-shirt, but he halted me. “Let me enjoy you, first,” he said, before leading me to the bed. “Lie back, baby,” he instructed, and I giggled as I did as I was told. “I thought about your cunt every day,” he said crassly, and my mouth fell open in surprise as he continued. “Came so fast thinking about it every time I-”

“Leon!” I gasped, interrupting his unabashed words.

“I know you like it when I talk like that, baby,” he chuckled, crawling on top of me fully clothed. His clothes felt harsh against my skin, in an exciting, striking way. “You’re filthy really.”

I laughed; he was a little bit right. His words clouded my head and made my core ache with need. Smiling, he peppered the top of my chest with kisses before running his tongue slowly down the valley between my breasts. I breathed, squeezing my eyes shut in want as his fingers danced from my calves to my upper thighs, tickling and grazing painstakingly.

Decisively, he grasped my breast and encapsulated one of my nipples within his warm, wet mouth, and I cried out his name in frustration, squeezing my legs together for any trace of friction where my cunt throbbed. With a lewd pop, he released my nipple and looked into my eyes teasingly, cruelly, “You want something, baby?”

“You’re driving me crazy,” I hissed, and he laughed again, throwing his head back. “Please, touch me,” I begged.

“Touch you where?”

“Leon,” I groaned, as he enjoyed his torture.

“Okay, alright,” he murmured, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His strong hands grasped my thighs and pushed my legs apart, and I whimpered. I could have died of shame as my pussy leaked wetness onto the sheets. “Oh, you’re soaked, baby girl,” he growled, teasing my wet entrance, where my skin and dark hair glistened. “Can’t wait to fuck you stupid…”

His finger slipped inside of me easily, and he explored slowly and agonisingly. I put my fist in my mouth to stop myself from screaming, wanting more desperately. A second finger joined the first, and he penetrated me deeply before toying lazily with my clit, making me feel like I was falling apart. The feeling of explosion built inside me, little by little, at his leisure, and I wanted to cry as he sped up his ministrations. I began to thrust involuntarily against his hand, and he pulled out with a tut. “Not so fast.”

“Leon,” I moaned at the loss of him, and felt my stomach twist in desperation as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting me. “Fucking hell…” I breathed, watching his tongue swirl and his lids close. His blonde hair was falling into his eyes, and he looked like sin.

Opening his eyes, he smiled like the devil, and then started to unbutton his shirt. Shy, I closed my legs, but he pushed them apart again. “Let me look at you, pretty girl,” he coaxed, and I whined in response. As his shirt fell from his shoulders, his chest and arms seemed broader and stronger than ever, and the muscles in his upper arms rippled. I exhaled, watching him like I’d watch an artist create their magnum opus.

“It’s not fair that you get to look like that,” I shook my head, feeling small.

Standing, he undid the top button on his jeans and unzipped, sliding them down his legs with his boxers. His cock sprang forth, dripping with precum, and my mouth fell open. “I’m all yours, baby,” he said, climbing on top of me.

Slow, sultry, he kissed me again, and I tasted myself on his pink lips. Moaning, I reached for his hard member, but he took my hands and pinned them above my head with one of his. “Ah, ah, ah- it’s me taking care of you today.”

“I want you,” I managed, his weight delicious on top of me.

His knees on the mattress, he found my cunt with his cock and lined himself up, making me bite my lip in anticipation. I wanted desperately to touch him, to run my fingers across his chest, but he kept my arms firmly restrained. “Can you keep your hands to yourself like a good girl?” He asked, a brazen grin on his face, and I nodded.

One hand gripping my waist, and my breast in the other, Leon slid inside me in one swift motion. Gasping, I spread my legs wider, accepting his throbbing length, and he panted obscenely, acclimatising to my tightness. “Fuck, fuck..” he chanted like a mantra as he adjusted, going still. “Are you ready?”

“Please, I want it so badly,” I implored him, and closing his heavily lidded eyes he gave me what I needed. Fucking me slowly into the mattress, he leaned over and kissed me, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth, making noises that made me keen.

Methodically, he built his pace, letting me get used to the size of him, until he weakened, “I’ve got to speed up, baby,” he groaned, lifting one of my legs up so that it rested on his shoulder, forcing him somehow deeper inside, making me moan.

And then he fucked me hard. His pace was cruel and relentless, and I cried out at the way he hammered my cunt, hitting me so deeply that it hurt so good. “Oh, oh, oh, Leon!” I sobbed, still pushing myself against him harder, relishing in his unfaltering rhythm. Breathing doggedly, he found my clit with his fingers, playing me like a violin. His chest glistened with sweat, rolling down his godlike, carved abs, and I was in ecstasy, building, building, “Leon, fuck, I’m, I’m so close-” his fingers brought me to a burning climax, and my cunt squeezed him, throbbing, gushing wetness.

“Fuck, yes, baby, yes-” He pounded me incredibly fast, losing any sense of rhythm, riding my orgasm into his own, and I felt him explode inside of me, coating my insides with his hot cum.

We both breathed in tandem, heavy and fast, and he looked at me intensely, enjoying the feeling of his high ebbing away into calm. “Fuck, I love you,” he panted, kissing the ankle that rested on his shoulder sweetly.

“I love you too,” I answered, smiling up at him, feeling sobered as my mind returned to some semblance of normality, from the streaks of red and gold and silver that had blurred my vision as he took me. “Can I touch you now, Mr Kennedy?”

“Please do,” he grinned, lowering my leg and pulling out of me, before coming to lie at my side. I lifted my arm and he snuggled up to me, resting his head on my breast. For a minute or two, he didn’t speak, and we were blissful and quiet. When he next spoke, there was a softness in his tone. “Hey, baby…”

”Yes, Leon?” I murmured, running my fingers up and down his arm.

”I just wanted to say, about when I got home, I’m sorry about not being up for, you know,” he apologised gently, and I shook my head.

”No apology needed-” I started.

”No, let me finish. I had a rough time with… work,” there was a tense pause in his words, and I waited for him to continue. “I didn’t feel myself-” his voice shook, and I fought the urge to swaddle him in my arms. “Look, I- I still kind of don’t. But I’m starting to feel safe again. You’re making me feel safe again.”

I nodded slowly. Although I didn’t know what he had been through, I could see that it had left him scarred more deeply than physically. My heart swelled at his words, and I felt privileged. “Thank you, for telling me that, Leon,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his head.

”Well, I don’t want you to think I didn’t want you. Especially when you were in that little blue number, all ready for me…”

Laughing, I said, “I’m sure it can make another appearance.”

I tangled my fingers in his sweaty, dark blonde hair, and we breathed slowly, enjoying each other’s closeness, and in the other room, my essay remained entirely unfinished.

[aliceindiamonds]

mod: https://www.nexusmods.com/residentevil42023/mods/8

[aliceindiamonds]

[aliceindiamonds]

Just posting this here in case anyone enjoyed my Bound fanfic- I have continued it over on AO3, if you’re interested!

Chapters: 34/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Lee Jordan & Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader Characters: Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Draco Malfoy, Original Characters, Harry Potter Additional Tags: Slytherin OC - Freeform, Slytherin, Original Character(s), Flirting, Hogwarts, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Swearing Summary:

I glanced up from my book and peered curiously over the pages, only to immediately meet the deep brown eyes of Fred. He grinned at me knowingly, and I felt my cheeks flush pink. Oh, no. I raised the book up to hide my face and heard him chuckle softly before rejoining the conversation with his brother and friend. I refused to find Fred Weasley attractive. This story begins during what we know as Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts. The main character is an OC who is female, a fifth year and a Slytherin. She is not given a first name within the story but she is referred to by the surname Lewin.

[aliceindiamonds]

Motivation

Leon S Kennedy x Female Reader

Written because since I started playing the remake of RE4 I’ve had complete and utter brainrot. Why’d they have to make him so hot?! I’ve always been a Chris girl but shiiiiiiiit… I have literally never written smut before so feedback is super appreciated.

Set just after RE4. Leon is in an established but still fairly early days relationship with reader.

“Hey, are you still with me?” Leon asked, his smooth tenor breaking my reverie. His piercing blue eyes looked into mine, making me feel warm.

I looked up at him and scratched my chin, grounding myself back within the room. “Of course,” I mumbled, wiggling my mouse to bring my computer back to life. “I was just thinking.”

Across the room, he was pouring himself a Merlot into one of my grandmother’s old crystal glasses. “Thinking about..?” he prompted, running his tongue across his bottom teeth temptingly. I breathed deeply and watched as he took a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“It’s nothing,” I replied with a shake of my head. We were now a week on from Leon’s return. He told me very little of where he’d been or what he’d been doing, but I knew it was something very important and very dangerous. I had noticed, as he emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist one morning, that he was adorned with brand new scars, red and angry amongst the pinker, lighter ones. Now, as he leaned elegantly against my oak counters, he looked tired but inexplicably handsome, as always. “How are you feeling?”

“Feeling good, baby,” he answered, moving around the kitchen to where I sat at the island. “Just glad to be back.” His hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I could smell his aftershave: sandalwood and oud, and a sweet floral top note. Behind me, he looked at my computer screen with interest. “Still that essay?”

I groaned. “Don’t, I know.” This particular piece of work had been hanging over me since before he left for Spain. “I can’t bring myself to commit to it.”

“Would you like me to help motivate you?” He asked teasingly and pressed his lips to my cheek.

“I am unmotivatable,” I sighed, and I tilted my head as his lips kissed softly and slowly in a path towards my neck.

“I’m not sure, I think I might have a few ways…” His breath was hot against my skin, and his words went straight to my core.

Since his return, we hadn’t had any intimacy further than holding each other at night, in our pyjamas. Leon had only stayed two nights, and he was exhausted, and frankly seemed traumatised. When he had first arrived, I had bust out the full works- soft, blue lingerie I had bought specially, excited to feel him again- but he had looked at me with darkened, heavy eyes, and we had just gone to sleep. Then I had wanted to wait until it was on his terms.

“And what methods might you be suggesting, Mr Kennedy?” I breathed in anticipation. He set his glass of wine down on the counter before holding his hand out to me.

“I think you know.”

I took his strong, calloused hand and he all but pulled me to the bedroom. Closing the door behind us, he pushed me against the wall, leaning in to kiss me. His lips were soft, reddened by wine, and he tasted sweet. I moaned softly as he tangled one hand in my hair, the other massaging my bare shoulder gently. The feeling of his skin on mine sent heat coursing through my body, and I wanted him so badly. His hand slipped down, reaching for the bottom of my t-shirt, and I opened my eyes. “Hang on!” I burst out, and he looked at me in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Leon asked, his blue eyes so sincere and gorgeous.

“Absolutely nothing,” I reassured him softly, caressing his face. “Just give me a minute, let me have a shower and change- I don’t feel very sexy-”

He raised an eyebrow. “But you look beautiful,” he protested, and I scoffed, stepping away from him. I pulled a face as I looked down at my leggings and faded tee. “You’re perfect, and I want you like this,” he murmured, pulling me backwards into him and pressing his sizeable erection into my rear. I melted instantly.

“Fine-” I grumbled, “-but only because I can’t resist.” He laughed good-naturedly, and the sound was music to my ears. “God, you’re gorgeous,” I said to the air, and he nibbled the tip of my ear as his hands crept under my t-shirt and found my bare chest- I never wore a bra around the house.

“No, you are,” he murmured, and his fingers cupped my breasts, pressing into the sensitive skin in a way that made me catch my breath. He ground into me from behind, and kissed my neck again, and I moaned, and he lost patience. “Take it off- you need to be naked right now.”

Hunger in his eyes, hunger that made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, he gripped the bottom of my t-shirt and whipped it over my head. Bare chested in front of him, I felt exposed, but he looked at me as though I were a painting. His fingers hooked into my underwear and leggings, pulling them off in one and leaving me naked. “Fuck…” he groaned, rubbing himself through his jeans.

Avoiding the feeling of flaming embarrassment that his unbridled want brought to my cheeks, I reached forward to relieve him of his fitted grey t-shirt, but he halted me. “Let me enjoy you, first,” he said, before leading me to the bed. “Lie back, baby,” he instructed, and I giggled as I did as I was told. “I thought about your cunt every day,” he said crassly, and my mouth fell open in surprise as he continued. “Came so fast thinking about it every time I-”

“Leon!” I gasped, interrupting his unabashed words.

“I know you like it when I talk like that, baby,” he chuckled, crawling on top of me fully clothed. His clothes felt harsh against my skin, in an exciting, striking way. “You’re filthy really.”

I laughed; he was a little bit right. His words clouded my head and made my core ache with need. Smiling, he peppered the top of my chest with kisses before running his tongue slowly down the valley between my breasts. I breathed, squeezing my eyes shut in want as his fingers danced from my calves to my upper thighs, tickling and grazing painstakingly.

Decisively, he grasped my breast and encapsulated one of my nipples within his warm, wet mouth, and I cried out his name in frustration, squeezing my legs together for any trace of friction where my cunt throbbed. With a lewd pop, he released my nipple and looked into my eyes teasingly, cruelly, “You want something, baby?”

“You’re driving me crazy,” I hissed, and he laughed again, throwing his head back. “Please, touch me,” I begged.

“Touch you where?”

“Leon,” I groaned, as he enjoyed his torture.

“Okay, alright,” he murmured, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His strong hands grasped my thighs and pushed my legs apart, and I whimpered. I could have died of shame as my pussy leaked wetness onto the sheets. “Oh, you’re soaked, baby girl,” he growled, teasing my wet entrance, where my skin and dark hair glistened. “Can’t wait to fuck you stupid…”

His finger slipped inside of me easily, and he explored slowly and agonisingly. I put my fist in my mouth to stop myself from screaming, wanting more desperately. A second finger joined the first, and he penetrated me deeply before toying lazily with my clit, making me feel like I was falling apart. The feeling of explosion built inside me, little by little, at his leisure, and I wanted to cry as he sped up his ministrations. I began to thrust involuntarily against his hand, and he pulled out with a tut. “Not so fast.”

“Leon,” I moaned at the loss of him, and felt my stomach twist in desperation as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting me. “Fucking hell…” I breathed, watching his tongue swirl and his lids close. His blonde hair was falling into his eyes, and he looked like sin.

Opening his eyes, he smiled like the devil, and then started to unbutton his shirt. Shy, I closed my legs, but he pushed them apart again. “Let me look at you, pretty girl,” he coaxed, and I whined in response. As his shirt fell from his shoulders, his chest and arms seemed broader and stronger than ever, and the muscles in his upper arms rippled. I exhaled, watching him like I’d watch an artist create their magnum opus.

“It’s not fair that you get to look like that,” I shook my head, feeling small.

Standing, he undid the top button on his jeans and unzipped, sliding them down his legs with his boxers. His cock sprang forth, dripping with precum, and my mouth fell open. “I’m all yours, baby,” he said, climbing on top of me.

Slow, sultry, he kissed me again, and I tasted myself on his pink lips. Moaning, I reached for his hard member, but he took my hands and pinned them above my head with one of his. “Ah, ah, ah- it’s me taking care of you today.”

“I want you,” I managed, his weight delicious on top of me.

His knees on the mattress, he found my cunt with his cock and lined himself up, making me bite my lip in anticipation. I wanted desperately to touch him, to run my fingers across his chest, but he kept my arms firmly restrained. “Can you keep your hands to yourself like a good girl?” He asked, a brazen grin on his face, and I nodded.

One hand gripping my waist, and my breast in the other, Leon slid inside me in one swift motion. Gasping, I spread my legs wider, accepting his throbbing length, and he panted obscenely, acclimatising to my tightness. “Fuck, fuck..” he chanted like a mantra as he adjusted, going still. “Are you ready?”

“Please, I want it so badly,” I implored him, and closing his heavily lidded eyes he gave me what I needed. Fucking me slowly into the mattress, he leaned over and kissed me, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth, making noises that made me keen.

Methodically, he built his pace, letting me get used to the size of him, until he weakened, “I’ve got to speed up, baby,” he groaned, lifting one of my legs up so that it rested on his shoulder, forcing him somehow deeper inside, making me moan.

And then he fucked me hard. His pace was cruel and relentless, and I cried out at the way he hammered my cunt, hitting me so deeply that it hurt so good. “Oh, oh, oh, Leon!” I sobbed, still pushing myself against him harder, relishing in his unfaltering rhythm. Breathing doggedly, he found my clit with his fingers, playing me like a violin. His chest glistened with sweat, rolling down his godlike, carved abs, and I was in ecstasy, building, building, “Leon, fuck, I’m, I’m so close-” his fingers brought me to a burning climax, and my cunt squeezed him, throbbing, gushing wetness.

“Fuck, yes, baby, yes-” He pounded me incredibly fast, losing any sense of rhythm, riding my orgasm into his own, and I felt him explode inside of me, coating my insides with his hot cum.

We both breathed in tandem, heavy and fast, and he looked at me intensely, enjoying the feeling of his high ebbing away into calm. “Fuck, I love you,” he panted, kissing the ankle that rested on his shoulder sweetly.

“I love you too,” I answered, smiling up at him, feeling sobered as my mind returned to some semblance of normality, from the streaks of red and gold and silver that had blurred my vision as he took me. “Can I touch you now, Mr Kennedy?”

“Please do,” he grinned, lowering my leg and pulling out of me, before coming to lie at my side. I lifted my arm and he snuggled up to me, resting his head on my breast. For a minute or two, he didn’t speak, and we were blissful and quiet. When he next spoke, there was a softness in his tone. “Hey, baby…”

”Yes, Leon?” I murmured, running my fingers up and down his arm.

”I just wanted to say, about when I got home, I’m sorry about not being up for, you know,” he apologised gently, and I shook my head.

”No apology needed-” I started.

”No, let me finish. I had a rough time with… work,” there was a tense pause in his words, and I waited for him to continue. “I didn’t feel myself-” his voice shook, and I fought the urge to swaddle him in my arms. “Look, I- I still kind of don’t. But I’m starting to feel safe again. You’re making me feel safe again.”

I nodded slowly. Although I didn’t know what he had been through, I could see that it had left him scarred more deeply than physically. My heart swelled at his words, and I felt privileged. “Thank you, for telling me that, Leon,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his head.

”Well, I don’t want you to think I didn’t want you. Especially when you were in that little blue number, all ready for me…”

Laughing, I said, “I’m sure it can make another appearance.”

I tangled my fingers in his sweaty, dark blonde hair, and we breathed slowly, enjoying each other’s closeness, and in the other room, my essay remained entirely unfinished.

[aliceindiamonds]

The Road More Traveled

warnings/tags: characters are aged up, manipulative!Aemond, off screen death, soft dark!Aemond (perhaps?), undisclosed highborn!Reader

wc: 2.6k

summary: Surely there are worse things than marrying your brother’s killer. There must be. 

okay at some point the aemond brainrot will end but it is not right now </3

banner by @/straywords

Keep reading

[aliceindiamonds]

If u want to write a story about a character that's just you but hotter with a dark twisted backstory and magical powers and a pet falcon or something, I think u should just go ahead and do that. Who's gonna stop you? The government?? Fuck the police.

[aliceindiamonds]

If you are still taking requests for the whump prompts, could I have "Oh you're sooooo flinchy today. It's like you've never seen a knife before." for ghostface?

heres a request for ya! can I get a uh..... Ghostface degradation drabble? maybe some choking or whatever else ur feeling up to hehe pls n thank u💕

ayoooo

Ghostface:

It felt…silly developing a sense of trauma in this place. Every waking moment was a nightmare, every trial a guarantee of pain to come, yet some moments still stuck in your mind more than others, making you flinch and swallow and make all the fear responses that had otherwise been long squeezed out of you. After a disturbingly long trial with the Legion, where he had dug his knife into your side and left you to bleed and deal with a slow-mounting infection for hours, you were finding yourself queasy against…knives. The only thing in this place that was less avoidable than trees and walls, arguably the least terrifying weapon in the arsenal of torture devices brandished by the Killers, and you were starting to let them terrify you again. Stupid. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that thought so.

“You’re so flinchy today,” Ghostface commented, emphasizing his point by burying his knife in the dirt in front of your face. Even with his hand pinning your head to the ground you still tried to recoil from the blade, images of dripping innards and infected skin flashing before your eyes. You saw that ugly mask tilt out of the corner of your eye. “It’s like you’ve never seen a knife before.”

“Had a bad trial,” you explained wheezily, knowing it would do you no good. Ghostface didn’t care about your ordeals in this place; he’d sooner use any information you offer against you than give you even a lick of sympathy. He pulled his blade back out and wiped the dirt off on your shirt.

“As opposed to all the good ones, right?” he teased, pressing the dull side of the blade on top of your shirt and running it down your spine. You swallowed your jitters and tried to preserve at least a crumb of the dignity he insisted on stealing from you every trial you both shared. “Look, I’m not complaining. You were starting to get a little, eh, indifferent there.”

You gagged involuntarily, turning your eyes to the ground so you didn’t have to look at the bastard anymore. He laughed and took his hand off your head, grabbing you by the hood of your jacket instead. For a moment he tucked away his sadistic, monstrous self and addressed you in a low voice normally reserved for intimacy. “You know how I am. I like it when you squirm, baby.”

“Fuuuck you,” you spat. You hated when he used the sweet talk voice, and it was for that exact reason you heard it almost every trial.

“You know what? I’m feeling nice,” he purred in that same sickening timbre. He grabbed and forced you onto your back, and when he straddled you again he slid his knife into a sheath concealed somewhere beneath his robes. He held both hands up to you, showing you definitively how empty they were. “No knife.”

You squinted, utterly certain he had a devilish grin on underneath that mask. ‘Nice’ wasn’t in his lexicon. Sure enough, he immediately brought those empty hands down to wrap around your throat, thumbs expertly finding your jugulars and the rest of his fingers digging into your tender flesh. “I’ll just kill you with my hands instead.”

His thumbs constricted around your airway like pliers, speaking over your choked sputters with that infuriatingly soft voice. “More intimate that way.”

[aliceindiamonds]

❌ Single

❌ Taken

✅ Got my heart broken in a dating sim and will never trust again

[aliceindiamonds]

5th time’s the charm

Part 6

Link to Part 1: https://writemebb.tumblr.com/post/655008657267998720/5th-times-the-charm

In the days since Captain Redfield visited the office, the excitement had only just begun to dim. Not that I blamed everyone- I’d let myself get caught up in it too.

I sighed and shook my head. Really, I was disappointed in myself. Years- literal years- I’d worked at the BSAA. Met attractive men- big, solid, muscular men. And managed not to swoon.

Of course, it would be the literal golden boy of the company that cracked my composure. And the issue was that although he wasn’t present, for me he kind of was. 80% of my work centred around his actions and the actions of his teams so it seemed like his last name crossed my lips at least a couple of times an hour. And now, every time it did, I thought of the handsome, hulking human I’d had the good fortune to temporarily breathe the same air as.

The shrill sound of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. Back to it then. “Good afternoon, BSAA Relationships Manager speaking.”

“Hey, good afternoon. Chris Redfield here.” His voice was rough and low at the other end of the phone, and he said my name softly in greeting.

“Captain,” I answered, surprised. What on Earth was this all about? My mind raced. Did he have a favour to ask? Was there some kind of problem? I knew that he was on location in Bangkok, but he and his team had arrived there only a few hours ago. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. All good here. I just wanted to give you a head’s up that you’ll probably be hearing from the consulate here fairly soon- we had a little brush with the local police at an incident in Huai Khwang- nothing to worry about but they’ll probably want some buttering up- you know what they were like last time we were here-“

I laughed gently. “Yes, I do. Thanks for the warning, I appreciate that.”

“Of course. It’s good to hear you again.”

“And you, Captain.”

The line went silent for a moment. “How’s HQ?”

“Same old, same old,” I answered, looking down at my fingernails. I couldn’t help but smile and I wasn’t entirely sure why. “We get on with it. How’s fighting bad guys?”

Chris laughed. “Same old, same old. We’re holed up just outside of the city and we’ve got eyes on our target so it’s just a waiting game at this point.”

I nodded, as if I understood. I smoothed things over politically, but that didn’t mean I had any real intel until long after the squad’s missions were complete. Suddenly, I realised he couldn’t actually see me and remembered to open my mouth and speak. “Of course. That must be hard. Or boring? I don’t know, I guess. I spend so much time talking about you and I seem to have just realised I have no idea what you do.”

“Fight bad guys. Make messes. That about covers it.”

“Ah, so actually I have a pretty comprehensive understanding then,” I smirked.

His voice was silky smooth as he replied, “It certainly seems that way.”

[aliceindiamonds]

In case anyone is wondering, I am going to write more of 5th time’s the charm. I’ve got a chapter in my drafts but I’m just not 100% happy with it yet- will post soon!

[aliceindiamonds]

Bound: Fred Weasley x OC

Part 6: Ongoing Fic

Link to Part 1: https://writemebb.tumblr.com/post/655010568952020992/bound-fred-weasley-x-ofc

From my perch overlooking the lake, I thought of Potter, and the Weasley twins, and felt a pang of guilt for them. Provocation was provocation, and it was wrong. But I knew that Malfoy wouldn’t be the one who was punished.

After a few minutes, I became vaguely aware of another presence. I turned my head to see Fred Weasley approaching the rocks where I was sitting. He was still in his Quidditch robes, looking sweaty and thoroughly disheartened. I wondered if he’d spotted me from afar. “Lewin,” he greeted me sharply, his face mildly contorted with anger.

“Weasley.”

Breathing slowly, he came closer to me and stopped directly in front of my view of the lake. He seemed to weigh me up with his eyes, a frown tugging at his handsome features. “I’m glad to see you aren’t wearing one of those pathetic fucking badges, at least.” He began, and when he swore he seemed to channel his fury into the word, spitting it out venomously. I raised my eyebrows at his aggressive manner, tugging my scarf tighter around my neck. “Though I’m guessing you still enjoyed a sing-song with the rest of the snakes?”

I narrowed my eyes, and spoke calmly, “You would be wrong if you guessed that. And if you came here to take your frustration out on me, I suggest you leave me alone.”

Some of the anger behind Fred’s own irises seemed to dissipate. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, breathing deeply and running his fingers through his red hair. From where I was sitting, he absolutely towered above me. I noticed how broad his shoulders looked in his Quidditch uniform and quickly tore my eyes away from him. “I’m just mad. Malfoy’s an arse.”

“I agree.” I said softly, watching disinterestedly the undulations of the of the lake in the near distance. “He’s been spectacularly foul today. Hearing what he said to Potter, I’d almost say he deserved to be beaten to a pulp.”

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that from someone in green.” Fred sighed, coming to sit at the side of me. His proximity made my heart beat a little bit faster. I breathed in, and his musk mingled with the fresh air pleasantly.

“I said almost. Words are words; violence is another thing entirely.”

“So, if somebody spoke that way about your family, you’d leave them to it?”

“I hope so. I like to think I’m not easily brought to anger. It very rarely leads to any good.”

“Hmm.” I was aware of Fred folding his arms across his chest in my periphery. “But at the very least, you agree that he’s an arse?”

“Oh, without doubt.” I nodded, allowing myself a glance up at the older student. I thought for a moment before speaking further. “He and I were quite close at one point, when we were young. Now, he seems obsessed with being more and more like his father.” I sighed, linking my fingers together in my lap and examining my nails. “I’ve never liked Lucius. At one point it seemed Draco would take after his mother instead.”

Fred’s eyes crinkled and he pulled a face. “You mean the one who always looks like she’s got a bad smell under her nose?”

I raised my eyebrows, unimpressed, and Fred held his hands up in surrender, looking amused. “What I mean to say is, Draco meanders further from the path I hoped he’d stick to everyday. At one point in time, he was just abrasive. Now it seems he’s committed to making himself utterly despisable.” There was silence as he seemed to consider my words.

“On the train you defended him. Why? It wasn’t as though he was there to hear us.” Fred asked pointedly, and I looked up with a frown. “When he came in, and he called us blood traitors, and Lee-”

I cut across him, “I defended him because although he’s insufferable, he isn’t evil.” Not yet, at least. I thought further before adding, “We’re so young. And he meant something to me, once.” The older boy nodded, though he didn’t comment and didn’t give any inkling of agreement. His arms were folded across his chest, and I noticed that a large bruise was forming on one of his arms. Perks of playing Beater, I supposed. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be heading back to the castle? Umbridge might be done with George and Potter now.”

Fred hummed in agreement, then looked up in surprise. “Did you say George?” I nodded, not letting it play onto my features but inside a little smug that I could tell the difference. “Did you hear them say his name or something?” I shrugged. Fred smiled. “Are you saying you can tell us apart, you little Slytherin minx?” I laughed, but this action in itself was something I did so infrequently that it came out a bit like a bark. Fred’s eyes lit up at the sound. “Aren’t you just full of surprises? My own mother struggles with that, you know.”

“Well, I assume she has a lot on her plate. There are about twenty of you.”

“Cheeky. Just seven, actually,” Fred grinned. For a minute, we sat there in comfortable silence. “I’d better get going. Find out what punishment has been doled out.” He pushed up off the rock then held a hand out as if to help me up. “You coming?”

I shook my head, enjoying the clarity of the breeze as it swept across my shoulders, and Fred retracted his hand. “No, I’m going to wait here a bit. Take my time going back. The dungeons will be carnage right now.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Fred stood by my side a moment longer, before reaching out and squeezing my arm in a friendly way. The same warmth I’d felt when he’d briefly touched me on the train returned, and I frantically tried to shove down any feeling that might bring a red flush to my cheeks. He smiled, somehow seeming to detect that I was a bit flustered, and started towards the castle. I supposed it was no surprise to him; he was attractive, and I was a girl. Pathetic. Over his shoulder, he called, “Look after yourself, Lewin’.”

“See you around, Weasley.”

[aliceindiamonds]

pros of making content of your favorite character: content of your favorite character

cons of making content of your favorite characte: making

[aliceindiamonds]

i feel like i need to apologize to myself for the fanfics i read...

[aliceindiamonds]

'I forgot my name again' with Danny, please? (saw that prompt and immediately thought of him haha)

Oh fucc. Dark fic time! That's such a perfect prompt for him lmao.

TW: NSFW, bloodplay, knifeplay

---

'i forgot my name again'; Danny Johnson

Delirious.

The pain, the pleasure, the absolute stomach retching terror that consumed your being had you wishing that you could tear your own heart out and eat it.

Danny was insatiable - a beast chained in a flesh prison that decorated itself in charming smiles and saccharine words so that whatever poor prey walked in would feel welcome before they were ripped limb from limb.

You weren't sure if it was his knife or his cock thrusting into you. Maybe it was both? Either way you knew you were satisfying him. The way he licked a long stripe up your neck, jaw twitching with the desire to clamp down and rip out your jugular but abstaining anyway, was an indication of that.

"God. God. You're perfect. So fucking perfect, baby. Mmm... keep taking it just like that." he rasped out. You realize it was his cock dragging in and out of your inner walls and his knife dragging in and out of the flesh of your hips.

He licks his lips and moves the blade up to the side of your neck, gently sawing in practiced precision, keeping you perfectly on your toes as a thin slice begins beading with blood. He presses a kiss to your thundering pulse in mock-apology, and reaches his arm down to stroke your sensitive lower half in real apology. The pleasure had your head reeling as it masked (or mingled?) with the pain, and you were sure if someone asked you what the capital of Australia was you would have answered "Paris".

You throw your head back, Danny quickly shifting the knife away from your throat so you didn't slice your windpipe open (though he would've kept fucking you if you did), and chuckling as a scream leaves your lips as you're rutted by him into your climax.

He follows with a growl soon afterwards, coating your insides in his too warm cum as he presses his hips flush against yours. You let a deep sigh leave you at the feeling, and all too soon you realize that you hurt. Your nerves scream in sweet agony and your body is battered, bloody, and boneless; you can barely tell where you were or who you were.

Danny collapses next to you, lazily discarding the knife somewhere on the floor. You turn your head to him and watch as he breathes heavily, his eyes closed and a fucked-out smile stretching across his lips. His porcelain skin is painted scarlet with your blood, and he takes his hand to run it down his chest and smear it with a content hum.

Danny languidly turns his head to you, his icy blue eyes now half open. He let's out a deep breath before asking.

"So, how was it?"

You laugh at the painfully cliché post-coital line, wincing halfway through from the sharp pain - and you see his smile widen, the fucker - before shaking your head in playful disbelief.

"Well, I forgot my name again. If that answers your question."