#idontblushsrry

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He's got a big fat domesticity kink. The smallest crumbs of domesticity make his heart thump and some whimsical little part of his brain gets excited at the thought of you feeling comfortable enough to treat the castle as if it were the both of yours.

As a child, he'd have these one off flights of fancy; imagining a nebulous bundle of traits in a partner and musing on what it would be like to be married and existing in the castle with this hypothetical spouse. Now that he's an adult, and he's in a relationship, those thoughts have been revved up to a thousand.

He's a pretty decent cook, learning the bulk of his recipes from his mother (as Dracula had no real need to consume food like the rest of his family) and learning the rest from books or life experience. He loves cooking for you, whether he's cooking with you in the kitchen or bringing you breakfast in bed, he loves caring for you in such a domestic way.

Even the sight of you doing something as mundane as reading on a couch and drinking tea, is enough to get him going-- lighting a fire within him that can only be quenched through worshipping you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Breaking up with Adrian hurts, and it hurts both of you because it feels like rejecting the other half of your soul. He's very matter-of-fact about it, he won't drag it out or be unnecessarily cruel or callous towards you, but the both of you are in tears by the end of the exchange. What hurts even more than the actual breakup is the way that he'll avoid you after the fact. Meaning that, if you're living with him, he spends a lot of time avoiding you and the rooms you frequent which makes it so that neither of you feel comfortable in the home. What makes it worse for him is that he can still hear the tears you cry and it compounds on his own feeling of misery.

He does still care about you though, and while he won't go and comfort you (he feels that he'd be overstepping), he also won't make you leave (even if you have somewhere else to go) because he cares about your wellbeing (and also if you left, it'd feel too real, another person that has seen him and chosen to walk away from him).

Please just get back together, for the both of your sakes.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Alucard is very serious about commitment and not just because of the time period that he was born/raised in. When it comes to relationships, Adrian is very guarded and careful about who he gets close to so if he trusts you enough to pursue a romantic relationship, he's automatically treating it as a period of courtship before marriage. Although he's not so delusional as to immediately want to be married after two weeks of courting (he takes marriage too seriously to consider doing that), once he's set on marrying you, he's pretty firm in his conviction. He'll want to be the one that proposes but he'll wait for you to bring up marriage before going off and trying to discreetly get your ring size.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

So, so, so gentle. He's all too aware of his strength and the ways that emotional wounds can linger far longer than physical ones so he's so incredibly tender and gentle with you because for him, your love is the greatest gift he's ever received, and he'll spend the rest of his days cherishing it.

In some aspects it can get annoying because it can sometimes go too far, leading to him treating you as though you're incapable, but it's nothing a firm conversation won't solve.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I don't think Alucard's initially that big of a fan of hugs. He's not all that fond of receiving physical affection as a show of love and so hugging doesn't really do all that much for him. However, if there's ever a time where he's feeling low emotionally, please don't hesitate to take him into your arms and hold tight.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

While this may be contrary to the previous headcanon about marriage, it takes Adrian quite a bit of time to say that he loves you. He'll know that he loves you and that he wants to marry you but everytime the words are on the tip of his tongue, he finds that his insecurities strangle the words before they're able to come out. He just can't shake the fear that you're pretending to love him so while his actions will show that he loves you, you'll definitely end up telling him that you love him first.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Alucard gets very snappy when he's jealous. It's something that he will be embarrassed about later but in the moment, he just sees someone that possesses the qualities he lacks and he reacts a lot more irrationally than he typically would. He trusts you more than anything so his jealousy isn't necessarily coming from anything you've done, but rather a deeply rooted fear that this other person will offer you something that he can't and you'll realize that all he can give you is himself and that isn't enough for you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Adrian's kisses run the gamut, but they all have the love and devotion he feels for you within them. Some of his kisses are teasing, the kind that only serve to make you hot under the collar until you're begging for relief. Other kisses are gentle, a neutral display of affection-- his heart fluttering each time you press your lips against his.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Depending on which version of Alucard you're with (ie og series vs Nocturne Alucard), it's a toss up whether or not he actually wants kids, but whether he wants them or not, he's good with kids, especially older kids. He's very kind and good at meeting them where they're at, often pulling out bits of magic to impress them when all else fails.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are spent cuddling, the two of you whispering sweet nothings to each other as Alucard kisses every part of your body he can get his hands on. Mornings are slow and intimate, neither of you in a rush to break the bubble of bliss around you. Mornings with the two of you can quickly turn into spending the day in bed, taking your meals in bed as the two of you lose track of time together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Oftentimes, nights with Adrian end with the two of you finding bliss in each other's arms. Nights that don't end with you making love are just as intimate though. After gorging yourselves on a decadent meal, you let the night lead you. Sometimes the nights end off with the two of you dancing in the castle ballroom. Other nights Adrian massages your aching body, apologizing for his rough treatment of you as you assure him that it wasn't anything you didn't enjoy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Adrian is someone who struggles with vulnerability. His experiences with the world have shown him time and time again that vulnerability and trusting others is foolish and will lead to him being abandoned at best and scorned and hurt at worst. Opening up and being vulnerable is not easy for him, it feels like he's pulling at his skin when he does, not to mention the fact that he has a ton of actual secrets that he'll have to share with you as the two of you grow closer (namely regarding his father), opening up is a long and slow process as Alucard's terrified every time he opens up that you'll grow tired of him and leave.

That being said, there is a tentative hope in him, a fire that craves and desires companionship and so, while it is by no means easy to get him to open up, he's not completely closed off when it comes to being open. His trust will come with time, please just be patient with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Funnily enough, Alucard has a very low tolerance for a great many things. His regal and "unaffected" aura belie the fact that he's kind of a hothead. While it's primarily Trevor who seems to have the ability to bring this side out of him, you'll find that Adrian's tolerance for nonsense is far lower than his rational demeanor would suggest.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's very good at remembering things about you, especially the little things. He'll always know when something catches your eye or when you have a favorite or least favorite food and you don't even have to tell him, he reads your body language and responds accordingly.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Although it's difficult for him to definitively rank one singular moment of your relationship as his favorite, he'd probably place the time the two of you spent the day reading among his favorites. He'd converted one of the many, many, libraries in the castle into a private library/office for you, complete with the best angle for sunlight in the entire castle. When he'd presented you with the gift, you were so overwhelmed with joy that a few tears escaped your eyes (which had stirred up a mild panic within him until you clarified that you were happy). Subsequently, you invited him to help you make use of the room, and the two of you spent the day basking in the warmth of the sunlight, reading side by side.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Adrian's incredibly protective of you. Any threats to your safety are swiftly and ruthlessly dispatched. As for how he'd like to be protected, Adrian values the careful consideration for his emotions that you display. This doesn't mean that you have the go ahead to go and treat him like glass, but rather, he appreciates the way that you don't push him on his bad days, simply taking care of him and providing him with silent companionship without expectation. For you, it's the bare minimum, but for him, your kindness means the world.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's gonna go above and beyond every time!! Alucard's a romantic at heart and he takes every opportunity to let you know how cherished, loved, and valued you are, whether that's drawing you a bath after a long day of working, or putting an entire field of flowers into a bouquet so that he can give it to you before a date, Alucard will never let you feel as though you're receiving the bare minimum from him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Most of Alucard's bad habits come from his upbringing as the only child of a very privileged (read: rich) family. He has a stubborn streak strong enough to rival a mule and he can be a bit condescending and haughty at times if he feels that you're not choosing the choice that he deems correct. Disagreements between the two of you rarely get so bad that these habits rear their heads, but when they do, you can say goodbye to any hopes of a productive discussion.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He's annoyingly nonchalant about his looks. Of course, he bathes, makes sure his hair isn't matted or tangled, but beyond that, he's one of those people who just looks like that without any real effort.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Adrian does feel incomplete without you. Although this can be in an unhealthy, codependent way, in a healthy context, he does feel incomplete when you're gone for long periods of time. He's fine and he'll function normally, but there's an ache inside of him that'll yearn for you until you return.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has a thing about biting. It's not entirely a sexual thing (although there definitely is a sexual aspect to it, don't get it twisted), but it's kind of like a cuteness aggression thing mixed with a marking thing. He's not really sure what the instinct is as there isn't exactly a surplus of dhampirs running around with which he can compare experiences with, but sometimes when he sees you, he gets the urge to just bite you. He's always sure to keep his fangs tucked up away from you when he does, but he could genuinely spend hours just biting every part of you that he can reach.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think the biggest thing for Adrian in a relationship is kindness. He's definitely a person that will judge you based on if you're kind to the waiter or not, as he doesn't care for people that are cruel without reason. In fact, I'd even go so far as to argue that your relationship wouldn't progress past hostility if you aren't a kind person.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Alucard runs relatively cold which can be a pro or a con depending on the season. He can't really tell that he runs colder than you do and so in winters, when he tries cuddling up in bed with you, he gets all sad because you don't wanna cuddle with a living ice block. Conversely, in the summertime, he's happy as a lark that you're suddenly full on koala bear holding onto him.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed!

Bonus (NSFW):

Thank you for reading!! Please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed :) (Srry no twst masterlist yet ;;)

He thinks of the many nights he'd spent alone, tormented by the memories of life in a castle so desolately devoid of it.

Then he looks to you.

You look so peaceful, you're sleeping and as much as he wants to reach out to you, seek your comfort when his mind has betrayed him, he'd sooner die than disturb your rest.

He moves to the door of your shared chambers-- already he misses the warmth of the bed-- and moves to leave, hoping that there'd be a spot in the library that he could cuddle into until sunrise when--

"Adrian? What's wrong?"

Ah, how foolish of him. Of course you'd notice he was absent from your bed, you needed him just as he needed you.

"My darling, it's nothing. Just a bad dream."

Concern colors your expression as a frown begins to form on your face.

Suddenly he feels very guilty.

"C'mere my love."

He does as bade, crossing the room in the blink of an eye. You're kind, even in your admonishment of his behavior. "We swore a vow to each other. I swore to protect and care for you, how can I do that if you hide your pain from me?"

He doesn't make a habit of arguing with his spouse, nor does he intend to start. He agrees with you, it's easier that way. Besides, he already feels the ache within his lonely and rejected heart begin to recede in the the face of your warmth.

You lay his head in your lap. Soft words of a song foreign to his ears but melodic all the same tumble from your mouth.

In between the verses of the song, he does recognize one phrase--one that you'd taught him so that he'd know it each time it fell from your lips.

You love him. As wretched and cursed an existence as he was destined to live, you took his cold hand in yours and stood firm by his side. He was certain that he hadn't done anything to earn the fortune of your company after such a miserable foray into his young adulthood, but maybe he didn't need to earn it.

His eyes close as your voice carries him off to dream land-- this time certain to be filled with much more pleasant dreams of you-- he thinks, not for the first nor last time, that he is incredibly grateful to have you.

Trevor

In general, Trevor is really bad when it comes to sleeping.

Not that he was necessarily a paragon of mental and physical health but Trevor doesn't really do well with anything that requires him to be still for an extended period of time.

He's used to fighting demons and monsters through the night, an activity that's famously known for it's sleeping benefits, of course.

And on the rare occasions when he's not fighting through the night, he still struggles to get any restful sleep.

He saw his family slaughtered at age 12 and he's been on the run, defending himself since.

Siting still long enough to fall asleep and the accompanying nightmares once he does fall asleep just remind him of everything he's lost, and too often the feeling hits him when he's unable to numb the pain in the bottom of a bottle.

It's not exactly difficult to piece together the reason that Trevor's been so irritable lately (...well, more than usual).

It doesn't take a unique sort of genius to see that Trevor's been avoiding sleep. In fact, you've had many a night in which you've had to force Trevor to bed, although it rarely worked.

One day, the both of you have managed to stumble upon a town with actual travel accomodations. The innkeeper was friendly enough and didn't pry into you nor Trevor's backstories.

That night, you feel the greatest sense of relief at the feel of the plush mattress. It was nothing fancy but when you've been sleeping on wood and straw for weeks, it was downright indulgent.

You'd made Trevor strip out of his clothes, demanding that he not dirty up the bed with his filthy outdoor attire.

Beat back with exhaustion as you were, you were one more slow blink away from just passing out, but the sight of Trevor pacing the floor next to the bed gave you pause.

"Trev", a yawn slips out before you can even think to stop it, "What's the matter?"

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

Well that was the most concerning dismissal you'd ever heard from him. Not only had he brushed you off, he hadn't even noticed that you'd never really went to sleep to begin with.

You called him over, lifting the blanket up so that he could find a comfortable position beneath the comforter before wrapping your arms around his midsection.

You don't know what possessed you to start humming a lullaby--an old one that you'd learned in childhood-- but the sound of the song reverberating through your chest seemed to soothe Trevor the tiniest bit.

Your fingers found purchase in his hair, tracing nonsensical patterns against his scalp.

You kept humming though, even as the shapes in the room blurred and the world became little more than dream sand, you kept humming for Trevor.

It wasn't until Trevor started snoring that you'd nodded off, still singing that sweet little lullaby.

Thank you for reading!

Leon Kennedy

Carefully

Leon's very careful when it comes to you in general, let alone when it comes to sex.

He's so gentle, always stopping to check in with you and asking if he's doing ok.

Although he's very gentle, that doesn't mean that he doesn't know what he's doing

Trust, when he gets his mouth on you, it's a 10/10 everytime

He'll slide his tongue over your pussy, before settling on your clit and sucking on it like a lollipop.

Whenever he goes down on you, his eyes tend to roll back into his head, before he closes them in bliss.

And when he pulls away to ask if what he's doing is ok, it's always just enough for his mouth to form words. Best believe that man is stuck to you like a barnacle.

When Leon eats you out, he sometimes has a bit of a staring problem. Like he'll fully pause, spread you wide open just to stare at your pretty lil' pussy.

Is it embarrassing? Yes.

Does he care? No.

"What's the matter lovely? A man can't stop and smell the roses?" is his go to line before he dives back in.

Jill Valentine

Hungrily

Jill lowk the #1 munch.

She gets down, she don't play.

If you're looking to have your pussy ate and nothing else for hours on end, call her.

The moment Jill unbuttons your pants, a flip switches in her brain and she starts sniffing and grabbing at you like you're a 5-star meal and she hasn't eaten in days.

She's the type to say fuck your underwear and just push it to the side or just barely out of the way, like she just can't wait to taste you.

Your comfort's always in the back of her mind, but she does get ahead of herself sometimes and she'll just move you into a position that allows her to fuck you with her tongue better.

(Have I mentioned that she's buff as shit?)

When Jill eats you out, there's less of a focus on your clit, it's more about her licking up every little drop that comes out of you.

Not that she'll leave your clit negelcted but it's pretty obvious that that's not her primary goal.

Of course, she's not like this 100% of the time, eventually, she has her fill and she's able to focus of bringing you pleasure.

...Which then starts the cycle over again because she swears that your cum tastes different when you orgasm.

Chris Redfield

Affectionately

Chris is a sloppy eater.

Lots of spit, drool, and wet kisses placed on your cunt.

He's very affectionate to say the least.

When he eats you out, it tends to be very loud because of the fact that this man will suck and slurp you up like a slushie.

He has next to no shame about it because he thinks you're the sexiest thing on Earth, so of course he's gonna eat you like your pussy's leaking ambrosia.

He's the type to hump the bed and cum in his pants while eating you out.

Honestly, he prefers for you to ride his face, he loves to just put his tongue out and let you get to work.

He's also not shy about any mess he makes, he says it's just proof that he can't get enough of you.

Places lots of kisses and bites onto your thighs and stomach. Honestly, he leaves kisses everywhere when he's going down on you.

He usually pauses in the middle-- replacing his mouth with his fingers-- and kissing your lips.

The kiss is always sloppy, the two of you "making out" by sucking on each other's tongues and lips.

When your lips are properly swollen with kisses, he returns to eating you out-- trying to make sure your pussy looks as puffy as your lips do.

Says "I love you" in between breaths.

Ada Wong

Frustratingly

Ada is probably the worst eater on this list because she will not indulge you at all.

Like if you're expecting Ada to let you ride her face and push her around however you like...good luck with that.

Not to say that she's mean or that she'll never indulge you, but she's got her own agenda and your desires are more of an 'eventually' than a 'right now'.

That is to say, prepare to be edged or overstimulated within an inch of your life.

Ada's really good at pushing your buttons, and she knows exactly what to do to push you to the edge before letting you down gently, whispering and cooing about how good you are in your ear.

"Ah, so close. I think this time we'll get there though, what do you say darling, up for one more go?"

Her trasing can become frustrating, especially if she knows she can take her time with you.

She'll reapply her lipstick just to leave lipstick stains all over your body, she'll suck your juice off of her fingers-- thrusting and scissoring her fingers into her mouth in pale imitation of what she'll do to you-- and make out with you so you can taste yourself on her mouth.

She's mean, so, so mean.

She'll push you just a bit further each time before rewarding you for your patience with a long overdue orgasm.

She's also the only one of the list who never solely uses her mouth when going down on you. Whether it's toys or her fingers, she prefers a more... hands-on approach when it comes to pleasuring you.

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He and Sam had been working a job which turned out to be a much bigger case than either of them were prepared for when they got word that you and Bela's little hodge podge criminal enterprise were rolling into town.

Now, in addition to being stuffed into a claustrophobic suit and shoes he's sure have to be two sizes too small with how they're squeezing his feet, he also has to deal with the additional headache that you and your "business associate" bring.

Bela he could handle, she was a stuck up, british, priss and he had no problem telling her quite plainly to fuck off. You were the problem. You had a way of making Dean's head dizzy with your stupid expensive perfume and your quiet, lilted way of speaking. Every movement you made made Dean want to stop his heart from beating, if only for the fact that it distracted him from hearing every word that escaped your perfectly plump lips.

Tonight was no different, some charity gala for some stupid rich assholes to feel better about themselves, not that he really knew what the cause was when he was so focused on you.

Sam had left to sneak upstairs and retrieve the amulet before either you or Bela could poach it. His job was to stay downstairs and watch the exits, make sure that neither of you had the chance to slip out of here.

You put the entire room to shame with how good you looked. You were wearing some sort of done-up gown (that he'd bet his baby cost a small fortune) that was pink and covered in a subtle shimmer of what looked like glitter but upon your approach he realized were thousands of tiny crystals, each placed meticulously to give your dress the flowing appearance of being bestowed upon you through magic.

He's faintly aware of the disapproving stares you garner as you move through the room, unbothered by the disdain and disbelief painted onto the faces of the gala attendees.

You spotted him first. In no time at all you glide across the room, the small train created by your dress is no hinderance to you at all. You move so gracefully, so delicately that if he didn't know any better— know you—the way you bare your belly only to claw out the eyes of any foolish enough to fall for your trap—he'd say that you belong here, amongst the diamonds of society. If he didn't know the viciousness with which you could cut—deep enough to scar, but still light enough to heal— he'd push you away and tell you to go rub elbows with the changemakers of the world, not to spend your night with a man who's nursing a champagne flute, hoping it'll magically turn into beer.

He's supposed to be watching you. Bela's run off to who knows where so he'll stick to you like a barnacle to make sure whatever plan the two of you have cooked up doesn't go through.

"Funny seein' you here Winchester", you say like he'd be anywhere else. You know the shadows with which this business operates as well as he does, and he knows you're not stupid.

Still, he says, "You do know what'll happen if that amulet gets used right?"

You don't respond, merely sizing him up with a discerning look in your eye. He didn't notice it earlier, but your dress has a slit up the sides that stops right in the middle of your thigh. He's successfully stopped himself from taking in the view of your breasts provided by the halter cut of your dress but his traitorous eyes find themselves stuck on the delectable sheen of your legs. The bit of thigh he's able to see shines like a bottle of the finest top shelf whiskey and the filthiest of intrusive thoughts peek in telling him to take a sip.

Your conversation continues, you've gotten whatever information you needed from the silent exchange, and he's mentally chastising himself so it's a bit stilted and one sided.

He's not sure when or what made him think this was a good idea but somehow he's gone outside with you. He's got you pressed against the side of his car and you've managed to wrap one leg around him.

The both of you sit in this closeness, every breath he exhales you swallow, and it's doing something funky to his mind. Your spell continues as you break first and kiss him, giving in the slightest bit when he's frozen with indecision while his brain and dick war with each other.

He can feel his cock hardening, it makes the suit uncomfortably tight. He grinds into the plush fabric of your underwear for any hint of relief. It's only when you bite his lip and his hand has slowly snuck up the back of your head—desperately clinging to the freshly done braids you sport—that he stops.

This is wrong. So, so wrong. He hates you.

You steal dangerous artifacts and sell them to the highest bidder, you couldn't care less who dies because of your actions, you've stabbed him, shot Rufus. He should kill you.

"You conniving bitch."

"Dean, language! You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Fuck you."

You take his hand in yours, calloused and pliant. He should yank it out of your hand but your perfume fills his senses and he's distracted again. "Now Dean, we were having such a good time together." Your other hand reaches towards the halter of your dress, you cup your breast in the top before pushing the flimsy thing aside, revealing your bare breast to him. "Let's not ruin it with petty fighting, ok?"

You take the hand in your grip and drag it over your exposed breast, groaning when his fingers catch on your nipple. You don't stop there, your hand firmly grasps his wrist, you've shifted its position to create a more secure hold with your nails, and draaaag his hand down the length of your torso, his heart pounds with each bit of soft skin that his fingers are allowed to touch. Your leg is still wrapped around his waist and you use it to tug him the slightest bit closer.

"Or", your voice lilts with the proposition, a promise of something more to come, "If you still insist on fighting, maybe this will change your mind?" With that, you pull his hand down further, using his much larger hand to cup your pussy. You're soaked, the fabric of your underwear is warm and he's overcome with the urge to rip them off of you.

"You can move them you know", you're still there, of course you are. You've bewitched him and your spell has a devastatingly short range. Your hand, which rests atop his, moves to match the shape of his hand. Your fingers, adorned with a fortune's worth of jewelry and a set of gaudy acrylic nails, reach down, puppeting his fingers while he stands powerless to stop you, and force the gusset of your underwear to the side.

The sudden warmth and wetness is a shock to his system, his dick wins the battle over rationality as he mutters out a stilted "car", while scrambling for the keys to his Impala.

You laugh at his panic, because you're evil, and he thinks he grumbles a "shut up" that only serves to make you laugh harder.

He finally opens the door to the car's backseat and you get the memo because he doesn't even have to say anything before you and your fancy-prissy-pants dress are in the car.

The two of you are inseparable once inside. Dean's backseat is pretty spacious but it's not nearly enough space for everything he wants to do to you so he has to formulate his plan of attack.

Scrunching up your dress allows your legs the full scope of their movement and you use your newfound freedom against him, immediately pulling him close to you with a surprising amount of force before he can even get the chance to undress.

He can feel his mind being wiped clean with each press of your lips against his. You're constantly picking at him too, nipping and fighting back against his tongue when it presses into your mouth.

He pulls back first, breaking the kiss for his own sanity, "Fucking—stop distracting me." Your legs loosen their grip and for the moment, you allow him to do as he wishes, laying content as a fat cat in the backseat of his Impala.

Finally. He loosens the bowtie around his neck, not at all missing the pressure it inflicted upon removing it, before moving to remove his suit jacket that feels akin to a straight jacket in such close quarters. With the slightest of restrictions removed from his body, he's finally able to breathe. The scent of sweat and sex fills his car as he huffs the heady aroma.

He rolls up the sleeves of his jacket, undoing the top few buttons before sliding his fingers into the elastic waistband of your panties. You put up very little resistance and it takes everything in his power not to stop his task to lick at the pearl of your clit, as luminous as it is in the lowlight of the backlot he's parked in.

At the feeling of your sharp nails thumping his head, his attention is drawn back to you. You've moved back a bit, pressing your head against the window to make the logistics of positioning yourself for backseat sex a bit more comfortable. "I know she's pretty Winchester but please focus", your other hand comes from seemingly nowhere, drawing his attention downwards as you spread yourself open, "I promise if you're quick, I'll make it worth your while."

In no time at all, your underwear lay forgotten in some unknown shadow of his car while he's head first in your perfect little pussy.

Another thing about you that pisses him off. You don't even have the decency to be ashamed about the sounds he's making as he sucks your hypothetical soul (he's still not 100% sure yours isn't on loan from Hell) out. The gushes and sweet squelches your pussy makes as his tongue and fingers take turns fucking it could make a pornstar blush, and yet, here you are, seemingly unbothered by the obscene noise, only telling him what to do with a firm grip on his hair and breathy moans of "Right there, Dean" and "Fuck me harder".

His dick's aching in need and he palms himself through the suit—rental deposit be damned. You're intoxicating, his fingers are prodding into you, trying to best translate the shape and feel of you to the hand he's half fucking his dick into. Your taste is the sweetest nectar he's ever known—made all the tastier by its tartness and the way your thighs seem to be two seconds from crushing his head whenever he circles your clit. He hates himself just a bit more for the eagerness with which he surrenders to your allure.

He pulls out, your pussy's a suction force and getting it to release his fingers is made all the more difficult by the way your nails dig into his scalp—just painful enough that the promise of violence is there, not certain, but a metaphorical gun placed on the table. "Winchesterrr", your voice is no longer gentle and seductive, it takes on a tinge of restrained fury. This is who he knows you to be—you're not some dainty angel floating through crowds of equally enamored and repulsed idiots—you're mean. You're selfish, vindictive, and you'd kick, claw, scratch, and shoot before not getting your way.

Dean knows he's lost his mind when he feels his dick throb at the thought of you furious with him for leaving you unattended.

You sit up and your hands move. He's successfully freed his fingers from the snatch trap of your pussy but he's not doing anything and it's pissing you off. It's impressive the level of dexterity you have, even with those plastic knives you've attached to your fingers— and he briefly thinks of how your nails might sound, clacking together as you stroke his dick— as you pop the remaining buttons of his shirt open—one by one.

He would be lying if he said that the sting your fingers left in their wake as they ran down his chest wasn't exhilarating. A threat and a promise wrapped up into one as your fingers skirt the hem of his slacks before running back up to settle around his neck.

"Look, I've never been choked by a chick before but—"

You pull his dick out so fast that he's left speechless mid-sentence.

"Shut up", you pump his dick a few times, your nails don't clack together but your hand is so soft that he finds a thousand new fantasies emerging with every up-down stroke of your hand. Your palm presses into his throat, not crushing or painful, just...there, as your fingers come along and press faintly into the sides of his neck.

"Dean, one thing that you should know about me is that I will not be left wanting", you squeeeeze the head of his dick in a rolling motion that nearly has him folding over, "I'd sooner tie you up and gag you. Understand?"

The hand holding his neck moves to grab his chin, you bring him to meet you, eye to eye, as your unimpressed face stares back at him. "I'm only saying this once so pay attention, 'kay", you say this, but the hand stroking his dick doesn't even attempt to slow down, "You're gonna eat my pussy. If you make me cum, I'll do something nice for you. Take what you're given and be good to me and we'll have a good time, nod if you understand."

Your words leave no room for argument and he nods, all fight leaving him as you push him down onto the seat and prepare to mount his face. He doesn't even argue when you put your dirtied hand out, waiting for him to lick the precum from it with an assured expectance. You've stopped stroking his dick in the midst of this, it's uncomfortably hard but you smack his hand away when he tries to reach for it, reminding him to "finish what he started".

With Dean’s tongue having cleaned your fingers, you wipe your hand onto his undone slacks, sinking onto his mouth in one fluid motion. Your dress covers his face for the briefest of moments until you pull the skirt up again, "Fuck, wanna see your face pretty boy."

His dick throbs at the compliment—he'd flip you off if his hands weren't busy keeping you in place.

You seem to be closer than you initially let on. You're riding his face with reckless abandon and he mentally swears at the crick in his neck that he's certain to get from the angle you've maneuvered his head into in order to get his tongue to reach every part of you.

"Fuck! Fingers—Use your fingers!"

Well if he wasn't sure if you were close before now. He does as told, shifting you ever so slightly so he can use his fingers while his tongue lavishes attention onto your clit. You buck into his face one final time, pulling on his scalp in a way that makes him concerned for his luscious locks, before letting go as your orgasm releases and runs through you.

Dean keeps consistent as you ride the feeling out, switching out his fingers to lick up the glaze left in the wake of your orgasm. You seem softer like this, less trigger-happy and almost...vulnerable but before Dean can dwell on that fact for too long, the jingle of some mass market pop song rings out, causing the both of you to sober up.

How you manage to find your phone in the midst of a clothes pile, low lighting, and the jiggly, post orgasm feeling is a feat worthy of some level of respect from Dean (but then again, his dick's still hard and his decision making isn't exactly the best at the moment).

The flash of blue light that illuminates your face before you press the phone to your ear is enough to return some of Dean's senses to his wound-up body. Shit. He left Sammy inside by himself—fuckup was too kind of a word to describe what he was.

You're taking the call and you glance at Dean from the corner of your eye. He's not sure what look you see in his eyes but you press your palm into his chest when he tries to sit up.

"I'll meet you there", is the only part of the conversation that you bother to respond to with words. The rest has been a series of 'mhm's and 'hm's that have left his impromptu reconnaissance with no useful information. You end the call and turn to him, "What a shame, and I was having so much fun playing with you."

You readjust your dress and Dean laments at the disappearance of the nipple that he never got to properly lavish attention on before realizing with a start that you were preparing to leave. "Hey! So you get to fuck my face and all I get is a sloppy handjob?"

You pull a compact mirror out of a purse he didn't even notice you had—god he was getting sloppy—and give yourself a once over, not even bothering to look at Dean as you respond, "Sorry pretty boy, I've got to cut tonight's game short. I've got business to attend to."

You retouch your lips, smudged by the night's activities, before deeming your appearance to be good enough and returning your compact to your purse.

His dick is out, everything's changed too fast for his head to keep up. You open the car door, stepping out before turning back and slinging something at his face. The snap of elastic hits him right in the forehead before he's even sure of what's happening, "However, I did promise to reward you so, in return, you can use my panties to sort yourself. I'll let you keep 'em and everything, free of charge."

Dean rubs at his forehead as he unfurls the underwear you've graciously left him with, they’re pink (of course), with a black lace applique around the hem. Though it's hard to fully make out, he's certain that the bulk of the fabric has lettering printed on it—"They're Dior!"— you say as both confirmation and as if that makes the situation any better.

"I don't want your damn panties! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You laugh, mocking sound indicative of just how seriously you take his rage. "See you around, Winchester. Better luck next time."

And with that, you close the car door and leave him with little more than a raging hard on and a pair of stupid girly girl panties. Alone, with no external pressures or judgment, Dean's mind makes another (ill-advised) decision.

"Son of a bitch."

Dean really did hate you.

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog, and leave comments if you enjoyed. I'm thinking of expanding this into a broader story set so please let me know if you're interested <3

Supernatural Masterlist || Masterlist || Taglist

Lavender: Quiet Devotion

A relationship with Sesshomaru means getting used to a lot of silence

Not for lack of trying on your end but Sesshomaru's just not really one for talking

He'll speak to you when giving instructions or informing you of some change in plans but outside of that he really only speaks in moments of intense emotion

He simply prefers to express himself through actions, elegant and precise, with not a single wasted movement or hesitance in his decisions

Sesshomaru's preferred mode of..."communication" really only causes problems in the beginning of your relationship, before you understand his subtle romantic cues

For example, the first time you told him you loved him

You were a nervous wreck, terrified that you felt more deeply for him than he did for you

(At this point in your relationship, you'd slept together but outside of that, nothing had really changed about how he acted towards you other than he'd check to make sure you weren't too far behind)

You'd gone ahead and confessed to him anyways, words just kind of spilling out while the two of you sat around the dying embers of the campfire, the rest of your travel group sleeping peacefully

In your defense, he looked beautiful. The faint light from the coals lit his face with a warm glow as the moonlight lit his hair and made him look entirely unreal, like a prince of the stars had come down to bless your dreams

He said nothing at your confession and you didn't follow-up with anything either, too embarrassed to think of a response

Your embarrassment was short-lived though as he wrapped the fur he always carried with him around you, pulling you into his side--his warmth

The pleasant feel of his chest rumbling in your ear was second only to the sound of his voice, quiet but firm in its declaration, "Mine."

Daisies: Youth, Family, Gratitude

If this list were an actual bouquet, these would be flowers placed by Rin more than anyone

Though your relationship with Sesshomaru isn't solely about her, it's impossible to deny the importance of the little girl on your relationship

In a way, Rin is kind of like your guys' first child and she partially the reason the two of you got together

When you first started travelling with Sesshomaru, you didn't really care much for him. You thought he was rude, abrasive, and arrogant and you really only became apart of the group to be a guardian to Rin

However, observing the gentleness he held towards Rin and the indulgent way he entertained her antics softened your heart to him

(Of course, you'd still go on to dislike him for a couple weeks after that but Rin was a big part in you not seeing him as just a giant asshole)

He in turn, felt nothing towards you. He felt a slight irritation at Jaken's additional squawking and having another body to protect (especially considering Rin's fondness for you) but other than that he didn't really feel much about you either way

It was seeing the way you put your life on the line to protect Rin that made him reconsider you

There's a gratitude in your relationship that stems from your mutual love of Rin, and in being each other's support when it comes to her

When you and Sesshomaru officially marry and you and Rin move into Sesshomaru's estate so that you can begin managing the household, Rin further catalyzes your relationship when she begs for a sibling

"Pleeeeeaseee, it's no fun being the youngest! Besides, I can teach them everything I know."

You gently try to tell her that you and Sesshomaru aren't looking to add anymore children to your family when Sesshomaru agrees with her

Well, so much for that

What was another kid when you were already parents anyways?

Japanese Water Iris: Strength, Victory, Protection

An aspect of your relationship that goes without saying is his protectiveness

From the moment you endeared yourself to Sesshomaru, you became his to protect

This protectiveness skyrockets once you begin a courtship with him, even moreso once you're officially mated and married

Sesshomaru's protection of you is so absolute that it's second nature to you, you never even so much as flinch at danger when he's around

Even when he's gone, you never worry, knowing he'd return at the slightest hint of you being in danger

Even in times like this, where you've been kidnapped by a particularly zealous sect of monks who are currently debating on whether or not to kill you based on if you willingly accompany "The Western Plains Demon" or not

Currently the idiot who knocked you out is arguing with the idiot that tied you up about whether an exorcism should be performed to clear your mind from Sesshomaru's influence

As if that would work

The leader of the group seems to be partially listening to the arguments presented, he's mainly occupied with scanning your bound up body. What he's searching for, you don't know

His gaze, somehow managing to be cold and slimy as it roves over you, seems to land on the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, where your mating mark rests--silver and subtly thrumming with Sesshomaru's power

His eyes narrow in rage, shit, and you have only a moment to react before his leg comes forward, aiming a kick right at your face

His companions, shaken out of their argument at his rage, pull him back, preventing his foot from making contact with and shattering your face

"Let me go! They bear the mark of the demon, we need to burn them before the creature comes to kill us all!"

His companions perk up, looking at you in a new light as their leader pulls the collar of your top down to expose your mate mark

And honestly, maybe you should've been afraid because fighting three buff ass, well-trained, warrior monks alone was not something you felt confident doing, let alone with your hands and feet bound

But well, your mate mark hummed against your skin, you were certain it was glowing as well

He was here, you were safe

Needless to say that the three men were disposed of, by Jaken no less, as Sesshomaru released you from your bindings

He was pissed

"I'm ok, they didn't hurt me."

"But they tried."

"Yes, but I had you to protect me."

Your words didn't do much to calm him down, but you basked in the feel of his hands running over you, checking for injury

The feel of his hands, slightly calloused and gently touching you in a way that belied their strength--their deadliness-- was enough to set your heart aflutter

Sesshomaru was upset--worried about you, but he'd be ok once he knew you were fine, you'd let him fret over you until he'd calmed down enough that you could convince him to use his hands somewhere else

Heliotrope: Everlasting Love

Under everything though, Sesshomaru holds you in incredibly high regard

His devotion to you is unquestionable and you know that your love will last long beyond the end of time

Every day with Sesshomaru is a joy, the small family that you've made for yourselves, the uncompromising severity with which threats to your safety are dealt with, even the gentle way he kisses you beneath the moonlight

All things that make you fall in love with him even more

It's late at night, the moon shines on your sweaty bodies as you both (mostly you) regain your composure

You think of the way that you'll feel pleasantly sore tomorrow and how Sesshomaru will pack up camp for you--rolling up the tent you currently lay in last to allow you a precious few more moments of sleep

A cool cloth rubs down your face, your face pinching slightly in reaction

Sesshomaru wipes your body down, attentive as always and fastidious in his duty, though you do interrupt him somewhere between wiping your thighs down to give him a kiss

In this cocoon of bliss, you're free from responsibility, from reality, even feeling weightless and almost free from your body

Tomorrow looms like an ever-present threat to this soft bubble of content you've created but for now, you simply take in Sesshomaru's presence

No words are exchanged, none need to be for you both to know this is an everlasting love