Mmmmm InvesteEeEeeEd

Mmmmm investeEeEeeEd

One Night In Vegas

Waking up in Vegas during a girls weekend away was the perfect way to get over your ex, after finding his dating profile online. However, you expected to wake up alone... Not next to a giant of a man with a familiar tattoo and with his ring on your finger.

TW. Mentions of previous relationship, drunken shenanigans, smut, kissing, consummation of a marriage, talk of tattoos and blood.

Captain John Price x reader.

You roll over, pulling the sheet over your naked body as you stir, the effects of last night making your brain foggy. You knew you should have stopped at a few of those fruity drinks, but with your friends encouragement, you probably had more than you could count.

A low rumble breaks the silence of the hotel room, and a warm arm snakes over the bed and rests on your hip. You feel a warm body press into you from behind, and fear gets stuck in your throat.

You push the hand away and spring out of bed, clutching the sheet to your frame.

"Who are you?" You exclaim, your voice shaky with fear. As far as you could remember, you went to bed alone, not with this huge bear of a man.

You hear him chuckle, and he holds a hand up, a silver band glistening in the morning sun.

"I'm John, but i guess you could call me yours." he smiles.

You look down at your hand, a matching silver band on your finger, and look back at him in shock, unable to speak.

"Why so shy, love? You couldn't wait to make things official last night." he says gruffly, a little pink in the cheeks.

He reaches for you, and you finally take it in that there is a very naked man in your bed, and you are holding the sheet. Your face beet red as you find yourself staring. Your eyes scan over his body, before they settle on a tattoo.. a familiar tattoo..

"Where did you get that tattoo?" you blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow at your question, but you point at his ink.

"141, my brother has the same number, and insignia."

"Now, love. Get dressed and i'll explain everything."

💚

You raise an eyebrow. "Be a gentleman and turn around." you say as you dive into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, you catch your glossy eyes and as your gaze follows down your body. Various teeth marks and pink marks adorn your neck and chest. You let out a gasp as you take it all in, cheeks flushed as you remembered how you gave yourself to him, again and again.

Your memories come flooding back as you notice fingerprints on your hips, it all ringing in your ears as you remember every detail, every touch, every kiss, every inch of skin explored.

You close your eyes and trail your fingertips over the bruised flesh. Flashes of John over your body, caressing your soft skin, trailing hot, feverish kisses along your neck, fingers intertwined with yours as he rocked his hips against yours, taking pleasure in your bodies.

"From the gasp, i gather you remember," Comes the gruff voice from the doorway. John appears, dressed in jeans and a khaki green t shirt

You scramble to get dressed, and after sliding on your band tee and zipping up your jeans, you throw him a look. Stood tall, your husband takes over the bathroom, his broad shoulders eclipsing you as he turns to face you in the mirror.

Not breaking eye contact, he softly pulls your hair away from your face, and plants a tender kiss on your shoulder.

"I guess i should start with the obvious, love." He huffs, a smile tugging on his upper lip.

"My full name is Captain John Price. i'm in the same unit as your brother, who knew i was in the area and to keep an eye on you."

"Johnny asked- i don't need a BABYSITTER." You roll your eyes. John turns you so you are facing him, your defiant gaze staring up at him.

"Yet here we are, love." His voice rumbles around the tiny room.

He takes your left hand in his, your band heavy on your mind.

"I'll be blunt. If you want an annulment, it'll take 6 weeks, but as for my part. I'm in. I'm older than the rest of the guys in the unit. I want someone I can settle with."

You scoff, pulling your hand away.

"You want to settle down with me? But we don't know each other?"

John looks in your eyes.

"Do you ever think Johnny didn't talk about you? I know your favourite snack, your favourite colour, movie, what allergies you have, your taste in music, the last time you went to the theatre. And after last night, I know the face you make when you come. I know the taste of you on my fingers, on my tongue. I know you come undone when I kiss your jawline. I know how you like to be made love to."

He pauses.

"A lot more relationships have less. Give me six weeks. If you still want an annulment. I'll give it to you."

You stand there with your jaw open. Your face flushed, your thoughts scrambled.

"W-why me?" You stutter. Still in shock. The gall of him to be so personal with you.

"Why not you. Clearly you liked something enough to drag me to the Chapel last night. Might I add, you make such a pretty bride." His gaze flickers over your body, a desperate hunger in his eyes.

"And I fear, more than anything, your brother is playing matchmaker. He knows you were single, and he knows I was looking for a partner. So, what do you say? 6 days?. That enough time for you to fall for me?" He teases.

You take in the information. 6 days with John, as your husband. Or back home to a cheating ex and an empty house.

"Deal." You say, holding out your hand.

He scoffs, before taking it into his giant hand, his large fingers enveloping yours, as he pulls you in and places his lips on yours softly.

"Sealed with a kiss, wife."

A/N this is part one. As I feel its long enough already! Part two is being written right now and will be up in a hour. Thank you to all who have supported me so far!!!

Edited to 6 days instead of weeks!

@xoxunhinged @misshugs @thevoiceinyourheadx @frudoo @rynbeerose @muneca-lemon-steppa @shadowdark00 @enjisbf 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Presenting: Ted Raimi's ✨Hands✨

Skinner (1993)

ah yes. me, the werewolf curse and that crazy blonde bitch.



Starting off as a Human Cleric; met Shadowheart, Lazael and Astarion 😃

Guess who just bought Baldur's Gate 3; just waiting for it to download 🙃

I love this, it reminds of of the Hannibal series where Jacob Hobbs was killing girls that looked like his daughter because he didn't want to lose her.. great series

All the things you do to me

(mdni)

leon kennedy x reader

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

warnings: kidnapper!leon, undercover cop!reader, fem!reader, kidnapping, mentions of stalking, mentions of nude photos, sir kink, leon makes reader call him 'dad' (near the end), mention of suicide (it's one sentence, easily skipped), references to stockholm syndrome (reader slowly falls into the trap), suggestion of cannibalism (lmk if i forgot anything)

a/n: okay so... this is a lot tbh. i felt bad for leon icl cause he is just a guy so i made him more sad!!! also gave him more backstory too. i actually wrote this all in one day and it's a total of... *deep breath* 3.2k words! don't get used to this pls i just enjoy writing insane leon.

also want to say a thank you to @prettyevermores for giving me inspiration for leon's backstory!!! also this is most likely going to be a series so... i'm betting on the chance it's not going to be loads and loads of parts.

please enjoy!! (also i will do a tagslist per people's request for this series)

“Keep callin’ me that baby, I'll give you what you want.”

You're unsure how long you've been asleep for, but for once you feel unusually well rested, even with those constant nights of fingering yourself raw.

And you're naked, tied to a chair as well. Seems like you're going full monty.

That's all you're fully aware of, but the rest?

Well, fuck knows where you are, this blindfold is covering up about ninety-five percent of your peripheral, the other five percent is pretty blurry.

“You're awake.” Yeah, no shit. Oh wait, you got kidnapped last night, right. Like it was an easy thing to forget.

Thing is, it is easy to forget when you got fucked so good you actually were tempted to tell your stalker to keep going. You're even tempted to ask for more.

The blindfold is moved down your face, now hanging round your neck like a necklace, your eyes becoming apparent to the room you're now in.

You vaguely recall the pictures of the victims that were sent in were taken in this room, though there were some pictures of a girl that you hadn't seen before, but you didn't let yourself dwell on it.

The yellow stained walls were littered with crude pictures dotted around the place, alongside teddy bears strewn on the floor alongside blood spatters and a crappy mattress.

You'd think the room would smell of rot, but all you could smell was that of candles burning.

A camcorder was standing up on a stand in front of you, capturing your every movement, with Leon standing beside it. “How do you like it here?”

Words couldn't form in your mouth, opening your mouth and only a pathetic whimper coming out of your mouth. Honestly, you'd been in a situation like this before, but when Leon had those calculating eyes on you, you felt like a little lamb.

Didn't really help that you were naked, you supposed.

His hand cups your cheek, a gesture to make you look up at him. “I know you may be a little mixed up right now,” He starts stroking you too, making you feel like a dog or something. “But you're mine now- mine to look after.”

You feel sick, no like, you're going to throw up all your guts on him, though you think to yourself that the fucker would enjoy it. Doesn't really help with the feeling at all unfortunately, in fact, it only makes you more sick.

“From now on, you will call me sir as a sign of respect.” Fucking hell, you feel like you're being told off with the way he's leering over you. You're giving him your best puppy eyes, but it isn't hard ‘cause you've been told your whole life you've got expressive eyes. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Comes to you like it's an automatic response, honestly pretty pathetic, but at the same time, you want to live?

Earns you a chuckle from him, sounds pretty attractive because it's one of those deep rumbles. It gives you a gooey feeling in your head. God, you need to get a grip and focus.

“We're going to get along very well, aren't we?” He's got that hopeful look in his eyes and it actually makes you melt inside. The guy is probably depressed, lonely even.

Usually that's why creeps like him would do it, their main motive to feel some sort of semblance. You could almost empathise, but then again, this same guy did kidnap you.

So, you give him the best smile you could conjure up, which was awkward as fuck, and bleated out a meager response of. “I'll try my best,” You paused for a moment, realising you had forgotten a crucial part. “Sir.”

At least you got a head rub for the effort. It reminded you of your dad when you were a kid after doing something that impressed him.

God, you wished you could get out of here.

–

“You need to stop lookin’ at me like that sweetheart, you're making it really hard for me over here y'know.”

Leon's pretty proud of his recent capture. Seemed to have hit the jackpot because you're an obedient little thing. He can tell that you know it's better to play along with his fantasies than call him a freak.

The last girl actually did that, ended up putting a needle through her eye as a warning, alongside a ‘you'd better shut the fuck up about wanting to see your family, otherwise you won't be able to see at all’.

Was a shame really, last girl was probably the prettiest one he got, the rest were all pretty average, much like you.

At least she tasted pretty good from what he's had.

Though your eyes were pretty unique, like when you gave him those puppy eyes earlier, made him want to strangle you or shove your head down his cock.

Leon's unsure about you though. He feels much more content with having you here, but there's still something that's putting him on edge, making him antsy.

Willing to put it aside, despite the fact that his sixth sense is nearly always right. Suppose he's weak for nice looking things.

He'll spoil you at some point, he wants to play dress up with you, wear some of the clothes that he has lying around or maybe some of the clothes he took from his other victim’s home.

Right now though, Leon wants to make sure you stay obedient, which he knew wasn't going to be hard.

He'd just have to fuck you enough for you to be begging for cock.

Maybe he'll take a step further with his little game he has with the police, maybe send off a recording of you taking all the shit he gives you like the whore he's gonna make you.

All these plans he's got actually makes him giddy almost, a smile on his face as he crosses off your name on his list and opens up a special new photo album with your name scrawled on it, and it's already choked full of pictures of you.

Suppose that's what happens when you stalk someone for three months. But he's already got a new one for you that's a light pink colour.

Can't wait to fill it with pictures of you filled with his cum or something dirty as fuck.

–

“You love me too, right? One day, I'll make you my perfect little girl.”

You're sitting with Leon at the dinner table, silently eating as he watches you intently, his whiskey glass in hand and a bottle by his side.

It's been like that for the past three days you've been here. You eat and he watches.

Oh, and you're also naked. Haven't worn any clothes since you got here, and strangely enough, you're used to it by now.

It's actually the only time he doesn't record you as well, which fills you with a bit of happiness, though he's still always looking at you.

It's not been too bad so far, save it for the constant recording.

You thought you might get a limb cut off or something, so you've been on your best behaviour, either not saying a word or meekly responding to his questions.

Today's food is soup. Carrot soup you think, something your Grandma used to make and it was delicious, though now it made you miss home terribly.

Dragging your spoon back and forth, then eating. Leon gave you another head rub when he saw you do that for the first time, ‘cause at least you remembered your table manners.

“You really like the soup, huh?” It's your second bowl admittedly, you're hungry as fuck, much to your surprise.

But then again, you're kinda lucky that you're actually getting fed.

“It reminds me of my Grandmother's soup and- um- it's really tasty, sir.” Better to be honest with him, open up to him about your life so it makes him more attached to you.

Seems he was pleased with that answer though, as he refills his whiskey glass and pushes it to you. “Want some of my drink?”

You're not hesitant anymore when it comes to eating, but drinking is another thing. You've barely had any water, and if you have, you never see him pour it.

With a slight tremble in your hand, you mumble out a ‘yes please’, and slowly drink it.

You'll admit, you're more of a whiskey and coke kind of girl, but it's still a nice feeling on your throat. Smooth, silky even.

“I didn't make the soup.” Oh? Now that's pretty unexpected.

This can either go one of many ways, so you place the glass down slowly and return to your soup, glancing up at him. “Who made it?”

Leon chuckles, and you realise your slight mistake because there's no way he's going to tell you.

The face you pull makes him laugh more it seems, but he lets you off on your mistake. “She's visits every now and then, I keep asking her for a recipe but she always says that I'd fuck it up.”

His voice is laced with tenderness, and for once, you don't feel like you're trapped here against your will. Instead, you just feel like you're talking to a man who needs company.

"You care about her a lot." A simple observation, but you want to make it seem like you're intrigued about his friend. It earns you a huff and a gentle smile at least, but you've got something better up your sleeve.

It's a good thing your Grandma came in clutch for this very moment though, because you've already got the recipe playing out in your head. “I know how to make it.”

“Really?” Leon sounds careful, and the way he looks at you makes you want to sob because he just looks like a kicked puppy. Seriously, what the fuck?

“Yeah- I can um- I can tell you the ingredients if you'd like.” Bingo, you've seemingly hit a soft spot with him, but then again, you're more pleased about the fact he's now full on grinning at you earnestly rather than the fact he's less likely to kill you.

Some empath you were, jesus.

With that thought, you pick up the whiskey glass and down it. Earns a scoff from Leon, like it's a challenge you've just initiated.

You end up having yourself bent over the table, his cock thrusting in and out of you rhythmically as you slurred out moans.

A successful meal, you think, a very successful one.

–

“You look just like her, same smile, same eyes. But I didn't love her like I love you, you'll never be her, but you can be like her.”

Leon loves you. Not in a way where even he'd back away and rethink his life choices, but you're actually a really nice little addition to his home.

Ever since the whole recipe sharing thing, he realises that you actually care about how he feels. Could see it when your eyes lit up at his smile.

He could tell you could make the best out of a bad situation. Especially after your little drinking competition, he couldn't believe that you could hold your liquor better than he thought.

Made you bend over the table and fuck you with an inch of his life as a well done for beating him.

You sounded pretty hot when you were slurring out ‘sir’ to him when he fucked you. That little drawl that you did make him bust his load early and made you come about three times as an extra treat.

Your little act makes sense obviously, you clearly value your life more than his other victims, but it's only been just over a week, so he's not placing any bets yet.

Won't lie though, he's optimistic about you, and that's rare.

He stays a little longer to watch you sleep on that ratty mattress, he's even contemplating on joining you in the shower instead of watching all the time and…

Okay, well, even he'll admit that he's been having some second thoughts about you.

It's more about the fact you look like his dead daughter. The resemblance is almost uncanny. Almost.

Your eyes are the same colour, but yours are more expressive than hers. You've got a crooked smile, whereas hers was a little more perfect around the edges. You also sound a lot more soft spoken, whereas his daughter was brash, snarky and cruel.

Both of you were cute though.

Thing is, Leon is fully aware that the reason he takes girls like you is because they remind him of his daughter.

She was outgoing, never listened to her mother about what she can and can't wear, probably did her fair share of drugs and stuff ‘cause she always came back home high as a kite.

Leon misses her loads though, was his little girl, even after she took her own life.

Even if her death was the reason he was all alone, her mother was quick to pack her bags and move away from him not long after.

Leon thinks she wanted to fix him, like most do, but he was beyond repair, scrap metal. Permanently broken.

A divorce was cheaper than therapy, he always jokes.

He sighs, rubbing his face and itching at his stubble to get his mind off of his shit stain of a now ex-wife, and instead return his attention to what he was doing.

Photos are strewn across the table of you and his daughter, because this revelation of you looking like her has hit him like a brick and he can't help but compare you two.

Eyes scan the photos like a photocopier, remembering all the occasions that the pictures were taken from, but one catches his eye.

It's a picture of his daughter. She's wearing her prom dress that he knows he's got somewhere, he's got his arms around her waist with his hand on her lower back and she's looking at the camera with a big smile on her face.

Yeah, he thinks he'll do this one with you.

But not just yet, he still wants you to warm up to him a little more, despite the fact you take food and drink from him with no hesitation, even from the get go.

Actually asked you about that as well, and wondered why you were so carefree about it. “I figured if you did want to poison my food or something, you would've done it earlier.”

Turns out you're pretty clever too with the answer you gave him. It made him confused at first, got a little weirded out when he thought you knew about the stalking so he asked that next. “You knew about the stalking?”

“Well- when you um- you said you'd been watching m-me er- get off.” Huh, suppose he should've realised that you're one smart cookie sooner.

Guess you also made him realise that he shouldn't underestimate you.

–

“You liked that? Liked the idea of me stalking you, recording you, making you a pin-up girl on my wall? God- what a dirty bitch you are.”

You didn't think you'd find yourself playing fucking dress up with him, but then again, what are you actually meant to expect apart from death?

Maybe he'll make you eat human remains or something rancid.

All these clothes he's laid out for you are almost a perfect fit. You even ask him if he's tailored all these nice clothes for you, but he doesn't respond.

It's been about a couple weeks, and you're getting antsy to be recused. Well, not really.

Other than your possible impending doom, you're enjoying it here. Leon's warmed up to you, that much is obvious.

Yeah okay, he fucks you everyday rather than every other day, but it's a change you're very willing to get used too because he's the best shag ever.

He also joins you for a shower, even lets you wear clothes around the house. But clothes in your terms is more like the nightdress you wore when he took you.

All in all, you haven't done too bad. However, there's certainly been a change in Leon.

He's been the only person you've seen in these couple weeks, so you're pretty familiar with normal Leon, and this is certainly not normal Leon.

He's a lot rougher than usual with you. Now he slaps you during sex when you've done no wrong, or he's more cranky around you.

He gets irritated when you call him sir, which is very new.

Loves it when you have sex though. He whispers in your ear as he spanks your cunt about respect and all that, and all you can spit out is a measly “yes sir- please sir”.

Somehow though, it feels like it's not enough.

Currently, you're putting on the outfit he's laid out for you, which by the way, is one of the prettiest dresses you've ever seen. You'd wear this to a fucking ball dance or something.

Leon's facing away from you, seems like he wants to make it a surprise for himself or something.

Doesn't mean you can't ask questions though.

“Um, sir?” Wow, a pretty weak call out to him. You thought you gained a little more confidence, guess not though.

Leon still doesn't face you, but only hums in response. Turns out he's fiddling with something, but you don't want to know what, so you return to your task in hand.

“Are you going to kill me?” Fuck, you voice cracked harder than your already low ego when someone once called you ugly, but that's a whole other topic.

It seems like you've hit the nail on the head, or completely missed and hit your finger instead because the way Leon flinches is almost comical.

“I- no.” Yeah, nice. Actually, better than you expected, it turns out he must be going through a man period, meriod, maybe going through some heavy PMT or whatever. “I have a request to make actually.”

Oh? Okay, requests you can do. You being kidnapped by this lonely guy was a request, the difference is you're getting paid a fat wad of cash for the trauma this guy may inflict on you.

“Can you-” Dear god, seems like he's as nervous as you about this request, must be something pretty embarrassing. “Can you call me dad?”

What the fuck? Look, calling you sir is one thing, but dad? This guy must be fucked up, but then again, he was reluctant.

Wait- the dress, the pretty clothes, the girls he kidnapped, teddy bears, pictures of a girl that doesn't match any of the victims. All makes sense.

He does all this because he misses his daughter.

Hits you harder than that truck did when it ran over your cat. Tears actually well up in your eyes because what the fuck?

This guy is coping with his grief in the most cynical way ever because he doesn't know how to cope. Tragic, really.

Going off the rails from grief. It all seems familiar.

“Okay, dad.” You don't even hesitate, and you actually hate yourself over it. You shouldn't feel sorry for him, but he's been growing on you like a tumour. “I- I'm done with putting the dress on.”

The way Leon turns around makes you think that a snail's race could've been faster, but the look on his face was worth it.

“You look just like her, sweetheart.”