#evil dead x you

[alienguts]

Hail to the Queen (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Ash loves being on his knees for Y/N.

Warnings: NSFW, body worship, cunnilingus, floor sex, switch!Ash 🔞

Request?: No

A/N: MSub isn’t my thing but I felt like giving it a try and it turned into both Ash and Y/N being switches! Also, Ash is very passionate about eating pussy and I won’t hear otherwise.

Ash always considered himself to be a dominant lover, but there was just one thing that made him switch: being on his knees for Y/N. He didn’t know what it was, but something about her just made him want to drop to the floor and bury his face between her thighs. He always told her that she was good enough to eat and he was more than willing to put his money where his mouth was, literally.

Y/N couldn’t complain about Ash’s desire to please her. She was grateful that he was so generous and had many boyfriends in the past who thought that doing it was beneath them or gross. Merely the thought of him using his mouth on any part of her body excited her. 

Ash always called her his princess, but when he was between her legs, she was a queen.

The old armchair in the corner of Y/N’s living room wasn’t her first choice of seating, but it always came in handy whenever she and Ash wanted to be particularly close. She’d lost track of how long she’d been kissing him, her lips swollen and tingling as they caressed his, his tongue exploring her mouth, tasting her and drinking her in.

Her top and bra had been tossed aside long ago, her breasts free for him to caress and fondle as she desperately rutted her hips against him, the chair creaking as it shuffled against the floorboards. She whined against his mouth as he touched her and moved his hand to her waist.

“Please,” Ash whispered between kisses, letting his fingers drift between her legs.

“What do you want, baby?” Y/N asked, her voice husky and teasing. Her breath hitched when he started to move his fingers in circles, rubbing her clit through her clothes.

“I want to taste you,” he said, flicking his tongue against her upper lip.

Y/N immediately broke away from him and stood up between his legs before playing his hands back on her hips.

“You know what to do,” she said.

Ash hooked his fingers into the waistbands of both her pants and her panties, feeling her soft skin before pulling her bottoms down all the way to the floor. She stepped out of them as Ash got out of the chair and guided her to sit, her hips angled up. 

He kneeled down in front of her and spread her legs wide before stilling, gazing at her exposed cunt with lust-filled eyes. He let out a shuddering breath as a drop of her arousal dripped out of her pussy before immediately diving in and catching it with his tongue.

“Fuck baby,” he drawled. “You’re so sweet.”

Slowly, Ash dragged his flattened tongue through her slick folds, gathering all of her arousal and flicking it against her clit once he’d reached it. His movements alternated between licking, kissing, and sucking her sensitive skin as he warmed her up, making her wetter and wetter.

“You’re good at that,” Y/N moaned. “Good boy.”

Ash thought he was already hard when he started worshipping her, but hearing her praise him made him so hard he thought he was going to burst out of his pants. The urge to unzip his pants to stroke his cock was strong, but he fought it off by hooking his arms under Y/N’s legs and caressing her stomach, his hands slowly drifting up to play with her breasts again. She laid her hands over his and guided him to squeeze and play with her nipples as she rocked her hips into his face.

He never ate her like he was starved, he always wanted to take his time with her; to make her squirm and writhe as he made her steadily gush onto his tongue and slowly bring her to a climax so powerful she wrapped her legs around his neck. Being suffocated by pussy wouldn’t be a bad way to go out, but then he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore.

Y/N was so lost in the pleasure Ash was giving to her that she felt like she was floating away on a cloud or like she’d been dipped in warm water. She let out soft sighs and moans as she tangled her fingers in his dark hair, alternating between scratching his scalp, stroking his hair, and pulling softly whenever she felt a stronger pang of pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he moaned into her. “I could do this all night.”

She whined at the feeling of his voice vibrating throughout her body and pushed his face further into her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

Ash briefly flicked his eyes up to take in the sight above him: Y/N desperate and panting, her lower lip swollen from being kissed and bitten so much, her brows furrowed, and a light sheen of sweat on her chest. She looked irresistible and it only spurred him on further, speeding up his movements, his licks becoming more frequent and his sucks more harsh.

Y/N’s breathing picked up as fire spread through her body, every nerve standing on edge to prepare for the burst that was about to course through her. She tightened her grip on Ash’s hair and begged him to make her cum, reciting it over and over as if it was a mantra.

Her body finally went rigid, her back arching harshly when her nerves ignited, as if they were a million tiny matches catching alight one after another. Her legs closed on their own, locking him in place, his face fully buried in her pussy as he continued to lick her through her climax. She couldn’t help the primal sounds that came out of her mouth as she babbled and cried out his name.

When her orgasm finally subsided, she sagged into the chair and panted heavily, her body completely spent. Ash licked up every last drop of her cum, letting it flood his mouth and coat his tongue before swallowing and licking her off his lips. He slowly kissed his way up her body, making sure to give extra attention to her breasts; running his tongue along the undersides and trailing it over her nipples before taking them into his mouth and gently sucking. He finally kissed her swollen lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth to softly dance with hers, the taste of her still lingering. She moaned quietly as she let her arms and legs wrap around him and pulled him closer to her body.

“Fuck me,” she mumbled against his mouth.

Ash immediately pulled her out of the chair to join him on the floor, her arms and legs still wrapped around him as she sat in his lap. She let her hands drift around his shoulders and down his chest before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it out of his waistband. She pushed the shirt down his shoulders and kissed his neck and collarbones as he took his arms out of the sleeves and threw it aside.

Y/N climbed out of his lap to lie on the floor in front of him and watched as he unbuckled his belt, took his jeans and underwear off, and set his cock free. Ash was already rock-hard and dripping pre-cum and the sight made her almost drool. She could tell that he noticed how much she wanted him by his cock twitching as he hovered over her. His face was flushed and turning red and she could feel the heat radiating from his face as he brushed against her.

He pushed into her in one smooth push, a pleasured sigh escaping his lips as she clenched and pulsed around him. Y/N held his face close to hers as she adjusted to him, kissing him between shuddered breaths and stroking his hair before giving him the signal to start moving.

Even though it was soft and tentative, that first thrust made her see stars. She let out a soft whimper and angled her hips up as she wrapped her legs around Ash’s waist and scratched his scalp. Y/N had had her moment to be in charge, now she wanted Ash to take over.

“Ash,” she whined. “Please.”

“What do you want, babydoll?” he purred in her ear, already switched to being more dominant.

“I want you to make me cum again.”

“Already? But we've only just started, he teased as he sped up his thrusts.

He watched Y/N’s face as her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes rolled back, his cock hitting her sweet spot perfectly.

“God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” Ash groaned. “I could pound this tight little pussy of yours all day.”

She clenched around his cock and whined as he continued moving inside her, the sensation becoming too much for her to handle. Briefly stopping his movements, Ash leaned over to fully lie over Y/N’s body, his chest hair tickling her breasts and his face in the crook of her neck as he continued to fuck her, his thrusts becoming firmer and faster.

“Kiss me while you fuck me,” Y/N breathed and curled her fingers in his hair to push his face down into hers.

Ash happily obliged and locked lips with her, his tongue tangling with hers as he continued to move inside her. He missed her lips more than once thanks to his thrusts pushing him up and down her body, but she didn’t seem to mind. She moaned into his mouth, holding him close to her with one of her hands on the back of his head while the other trailed down her body to rub her clit. 

She was still sensitive from Ash’s mouth on her clit and even the lightest touch made her hiss and buck her hips. The overstimulation was delicious enough to make her keep going, her fingers swirling up and down and in circles on her swollen clit while Ash’s cock slid in and out of her needy cunt. A knot started to form in her stomach as they both wound her up towards her climax, and she screwed her eyes shut as her head fell back onto the floor. 

Ash took his chance to kiss Y/N’s neck, biting and sucking gently in between praises and moans in her ear. He could feel bruises start to form on his knees, but the pleasure he felt from fucking her easily overshadowed any discomfort.

“You take it so well, baby,” he purred. “I want you to cum all over my cock. C’mon, cum for me.”

Just those three words were all it took for her body to ignite. The knot in her stomach unravelled as fire spread through her body, her back arching into Ash and her cunt clenching around him. Moans and gasps spilt from her mouth and she cried his name loud enough for it to echo off of the walls of her small apartment.

Her release was strong enough to trigger Ash’s, his hips stalling and stuttering as he panted and moaned, his hot cum painting Y/N’s walls. He fucked her through both of their highs, his thrusts only slowing down once he stopped to catch his breath.

Ash held himself up on shaking arms as he panted heavily, sweat beading on his brow and threatening to fall down his face. He finally pulled his softening cock out of Y/N, immediately missing the warmth but glad to see his cum oozing out of her. He lay down on the floor next to her and rolled her over to lie on his chest, her face resting in the crook of his neck.

“You feel okay?” he asked her tenderly as he stroked her hair and shoulders.

“Yeah,” she breathed, still trying to catch her breath. “My back’s a little sore, though.”

“I should have taken you to bed,” he said. “You deserve your comforts.”

“It’s okay, I kind of like it when we do things in the heat of the moment,” she said as she leaned up to kiss him.

Ash returned her kiss and brought his hands to rest on her lower back, massaging circles into her skin and pulling her closer to him.

“I do too,” he said against her lips. “But next time, I’m taking you to bed so I can treat you like the queen you are.”

#ash williams x reader #ash williams x you #ash williams imagine #ash williams smut #evil dead x reader #evil dead x you #evil dead imagine #evil dead smut #horror x reader #horror x you #horror imagine #horror smut #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #slasher smut #self ship #reader insert #*my writing #smut

[cherubify]

SERVICE CHARGE / LEON KENNEDY

6.5k words, based on this

cw: waitress f!reader, blackmail, stalker, power abuse, noncon, dubcon, (unprotected) p-in-v, fellatio, spanking, implied cunnilingus, dirty talk, corruption kink, breeding, lack of aftercare, mentions of blood (no bloodplay) / minors dni

a/n: big thanks to @xoxostarlet for beta reading! pls check out her work it's vry yummy! n thanks for 50+ follows!! also i hc this as post re4 leon bcs of my og drabble but it can be di/ vendetta leon too it works even bttr ok bye!!

Leon’s not quite sure why he’s so taken with you– a girl waitering at your family’s restaurant, a dingy place in the outskirts of the city. Maybe it’s because he’s a simple guy- sees a pretty, little thing and can’t help but fantasise about you. You’re younger than he’d like, but old enough to warrant his wandering gaze at the way your oil stained apron wraps around your perfect waist, at the knotted ribbon you always messily tie that rests on the swell of your cheeks. You’re practically an angel in his eyes, your halo the form of a sloppily tied hair bun that sits atop your head with unruly strands sticking out.

Maybe it’s because you’re quite a character- armed with rather polite comebacks and one liners that you dish out to ungrateful, difficult customers. Of course, you’re so well loved by the regulars (him included) that you barely have to lift a finger to kick them out yourself. Everyone here in this tiny family restaurant loved you, their perfect waitress with the perfect smile. You’re enthusiastic about your mundane job too, fast on your feet and even faster with your words when running through demanding orders.

Maybe it’s because you’re still so young that you have this amount of energy. Or maybe it’s because of the lack of hired hands that you had to work with ten times the amount of energy you should normally exert. He remembers caring more about details and the nitty gritty things when he was your age. But he digresses.

Whatever it is, he thinks you’re quite the charmer. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he’d like to make it known to you. But the trouble lies in your denseness. You’re beyond saving with how each of his flirtatious comments would fly over your head, soar, even. With how clueless you were, it was a safe bet to assume you were a dumb little girl who had yet to have her cherry popped. Just a silly virgin playing the pretence of an adult.

Oh right, that’s another reason why he’s so taken by you. The idea of ruining you was exhilarating– worth the trouble of driving for half an hour after work to this hole in the wall just to see you. He finds himself wondering how you’d look bent over the tiny bathroom sink in the back of the shop, jeans pooling at your ankles as he eats your cute butt. Oh, how he’d love to unravel you with only a thin door separating you and your customers and parents.

He has to thank his superiors for meeting you. If it weren’t for that random party they held that night, he probably would never have touched this decrepit store. (For him, an hour away from home meant one less hour to kiss his bed.) That night you had introduced yourself as their waitress and patiently guided them through the menu with recommendations.

The waitress before him with quite the looker, pretty despite the mess on her apron and the sweat that clung to the nape of her neck. How old were you? In your late teens– or maybe your blossoming twenties? He searched your eyes for answers, while you tucked your loose hair behind your ear and waited patiently for his table to decide. He made small talk because that’s something he’s gotten good at with the ladies.

“Quite the establishment you’ve got running here.” He commented as he gestured at the rowdiness with his eyes. You snapped out of your frozen daze to meet his blue eyes. Was this hottie talking to you? You swallowed nervously and wrung your fingers together.

“Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s always like this after eight til closing hours. These guys trod in here after work and take it out with booze.”

“I can see that. Your parents own the place, hun?” He asked.

“For twenty years. Going stronger than ever,” you nodded. He smiled and asked for your name, and you willingly gave it with a demure smile.

Your name fits you, perfect for an angel such as yourself, he thought. His coworkers paid you little attention in their drunken state; this was their second round of restaurant hopping. Leon had to remain sober to chauffeur them home, and he was glad that he was sober enough to see and not forget you. You wouldn’t become a blurred image, a forgotten ghost in his memories as a result of intoxication. He was glad he was the only one who would remember this encounter.

On the way out, he had an arm supporting his fallen coworker. You held the door open, not minding the men who leaned lifelessly against his car like mannequins. You seemed amused, casual about the blacked out group that left the store blacked out drunk. Must have seen it a lot, he assumed.

“Do patronise us again, Mr Kennedy. Preferably when it’s not rush hour,” you had chuckled lightly.

And if such a pretty girl like you asked so sweetly, who was he to deny you? So he came as often as he could. You were always busy with attending to other customers, barely having enough time to sacrifice for idle chatter. He needed idle chatter, enough to grow your curiosity in him to be interested.

To get your attention, he would pull out a lighter (an expired one of his, a convincing prop) and click it a few times, cigarette pursed between his lips. And somehow, miraculously over the sea of rowdy customers you always heard it. The clicking over the cacophony in the restaurant. And like clockwork, you would storm over to warn him not to smoke inside.

“Mr Kennedy!” You placed your hands on your hips, frowning. Your brows were scrunched up in a disapproving frown whilst a pout played on your lips.

“It’s Leon,” he said while pocketing the bud and lighter. The grin on his face of hardened features made him look way younger– but you snapped out of your thoughts to fold your arms across your chest.

“Well, Leon,” he shivered at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. A buttery sound, gentle but firm like your nature. “I told you we don’t allow smoking in our shop. If you want, there’s a quiet alley beside us for it.”

“I know, I know,” he shrugged, and you’d roll your eyes in feigned annoyance before asking for his order.

You placed his menu before him, and without opening it, he recited his usual. And this cycle occurred over and over again like a broken record. Your reactions were the same, albeit less exasperated each time as you got used to his antics. He could tell– he was starting to grow on you.

He would leave generous tips for you too thanks to his expandable wallet. You know, for the service charge. The first few visits you fought to return the money because even though you were poor and desperate, you weren’t going to accept hundreds like it was nothing!

“Mr Ke- Um, Leon. I really can’t accept this,” you shook your head and pushed the stack of bills to his chest.

“Just take it. For the great service.”

“I really can’t, you always leave me no choice.” You frowned but pocketed it anyway. Couldn’t argue with the man who loomed over you even with a counter separating him from you. It made you nervous, and you lacked the heart to push, unlike with other customers.

“Why can’t you?” The blonde asked as you showed him out. Holding the door with your back, you shook your head.

“My parents already think you’re a mafioso with the amount of money you tip. Anymore and I don’t know what they’ll make of you!”

Aw, you were concerned for him? Little ol’ him? He wanted to swipe a thumb over the pout playing on your plush lips and kiss you. Kiss you and lead you to the alleyway beside your family store and take you then and there. How would you react to that, he wondered? Would you be happy?

He was answered instantly when your eyes lit up at something behind him. He turned to see a beat down Toyota in the driveway, and a skinny guy clambered out with a backpack, books in hand. Your face glowed radiantly. Leon wondered what you saw in that awkward boy. You bid Leon goodbye with a stutter and led the boy in, leaving poor Leon to stand on the porch with a disgruntled expression and stinging in his chest. He knew the answer to his earlier question: probably not, because you already had a thing for someone else.

Leon visited again during one of your quieter shifts. During a weekday, on his time off. You sat in the corner of the store with the same boy while doing homework together. When he said something, your face lit up and you laughed toothily. A genuine, earnest and bright smile. Something he never got to witness, receiving only your customer service smiles when he cracked his best jokes for you.

But he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you for long. It couldn’t be helped that you were just a doe-eyed girl who didn’t know how to appreciate him. No matter, he could teach you how. Since you were lacking the brain cells to even try. But first, he had to do something about that boy.

It was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Just a few documents and the boy’s home was evicted. He knew the rest, but as you sat across Leon, face buried in your arms as you shared the story, he listened. It was like playing a video game and being spoiled of its ending. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side as you sniffled about your new ex-boyfriend. Your first one, too. He really helped you dodge a bullet, and you should be thanking him instead of ruining his dinner table with your tears. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the store but you two. (And your parents as they watched from the kitchen. His eyes met theirs, and they whispered not so discreetly to one another and he smirked.) He patted your head, and you flinched at the unexpected weight on your head. He mussed your hair with a (fake) smile.

“It’s all gonna work out, I promise.”

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed. But you nodded anyway. Good, as you should. You need not question him; just listen and obey.

Months easily passed as he played this game of cat and mouse with you. You, the unsuspecting mouse, who had grown to trust him. Fondly, maybe. He knew what you saw in him- a reliable, honest regular who gave you good advice and helped you at times in need. And it was true, from the goodness of his heart, he was at your every beck and call. And he would be forevermore, even if you rebuked him to the depths of hell, where he rightfully belonged.

So one day, when you looked worse for wear, he asked if something was up. You shared with a tired smile that you’ve been struggling to focus in class lately due to the influx of new customers. A food critic had written a blog post about the store and business boomed. He had to find out who the culprit was and take down their site, but that was for later.

He perked up when you shared that you wanted to put flyers around the neighbourhood to hire more workers. So he offered to help. He had a car, so he could spread the word further and get the job done faster than on foot, he reasoned.

“Thank you so much. You’re the best, Leon!”

Your eyes shone with relief and you threw your arms around him. He caught you, albeit with surprise. You showered him with gratitude while clinging to him as he sat, shellshocked in his seat.

Your first hug. Your curves were soft against his hardened one, and his hands itched to hug you back, to trail down your smaller body and feel you through your work clothes. But Leon steadied himself- he had to win the game in the long run, he couldn’t afford to drop out of the race so soon. The blonde retreated his hands and cleared his throat, and you practically crawled off him. Your hand bumped into the tent between his pants, but thankfully you were too flustered to notice.

“U-Um, I’ll pay you back,” you had said, and you offered him a shy smile. “Not that I have much but I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

“How about a kiss?” He prompted with a lopsided smile. Oops, that was an impulsive move. Like chasing the king’s piece while neglecting the imposing queen a few tiles away. Said queen being your parents, who stared at you disapprovingly like you had shed your angelic wings for those of a demon’s.

Your mouth gaped open for a moment but then you shook your head. “You shouldn’t tease me,” you whispered, hands rubbing your arms awkwardly.

His face fell, but he recovered with a boyish grin.

“Just pulling your leg. ‘S all good!”

It wasn’t good. His plans crumbled because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now it was awkward between you two. He found the papers you put up yourself and threw them onto the passenger seat, a messy pile with the share you had given him for his part. He clicked his tongue and shredded the flyers that you painstakingly designed, tossing the pieces out the window as he raced down the highway home in his car. He had to push harder, find other ways to corner you so you wouldn't be able to refuse him. Not again.

Once he reached home, he practically inhaled his shirt, where your scent faintly clung. It was intoxicating, the heat of your body pressed against his and the smell of your sweat mixed with your natural scent. God, you knew how to rile him up without even trying. His cock was painfully hard in his fist as he laid on his bed, stroking himself with his jacket to his face.

When he arrived at the establishment the next day he found you in the back– in the kitchen– where you hung your head in shame while scrubbing dishes. He had caused quite the scene in the store; your father had mustered the courage to warn him (albeit politely) not to lay a hand on his precious daughter. It was quite funny, the man shook like a leaf as he weakly poked a finger into Leon’s chest. It was astonishing and hilarious at how his voice choked whilst dishing out empty threats of what he’d do to Leon if he messed with his girl. All the while your back faced him, unwilling to speak for the next few weeks.

Your parents had taken it on themselves to switch shifts with you whenever he appeared. They practically had his visiting hours memorised too, so it wasn’t like he could waltz in whenever he pleased. They were a pain, an overprotective bunch. For a grown up miss like yourself, it was a wonder why they were still so protective. Probably because they could recognise a wolf in sheep's clothing the moment he walked into their restaurant a second time, eyes prowling until they landed on you.

It mattered not because he would have his way whether they approved or not. He needed no consent form, and not from you either.

…

Your family’s restaurant was on the ground floor of a little building you stayed in. Your residency was located on the second floor, off limits to customers by a locked door. Nothing a little lock picking could solve, thankfully.

Nobody but you was home, he made sure of that when he saw your parents leave in their car. He wasn’t quite sure where you were, but when the sound of running water leaked into the empty hallway, a smile creeped onto his face. His eyes fell on one door that was coloured differently from the rest. There you were. The door creaked ajar, and he peered from the thin gap to see you standing in a glass box. It was humid, water vapour swirled around the bathroom whilst condensation fogged the shower, leaving him little but enough to see.

The shower was turned off, and your hands mindlessly trailed down your body as you scrubbed it with a loofa. You bent over, reaching for your toes, and Leon almost burst in to take you there himself. The growing tightness in his pants hurt, and hell your perfect ass was beckoning him like a sailor to a siren’s call. You hummed softly, blissfully unaware of the man ogling your flushed, naked body.

He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shakily took out his phone. The sound of the camera clicking was muffled by the echoing sound of the shower as you sung your silly song. When he had his fill, he took one last longing glance before closing the door behind him.

Women spend forever in showers. Assuming this, he snuck into your room. It was simple, save for the abnormal mountains of plushies that lined your bed and your shelves. Japanese merchandise everywhere– he recognised a smaller white bear next to a much bigger brown one. Rilakkuma, or something. You had quite the collection. Were you fans of those bears? Should he gift you some? Ah, but your parents would toss them into the fire. As his mind somersaulted from one reckless thought to another, he noticed a laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He sauntered over and peered at its contents with sparkling blue eyes. He lifted your sweaters and produced a white one with a pink bow on the front. Your used panties. His heart hammered in his chest as he held it with trembling fingers. The blonde sniffed the damp patch on the gusset and groaned. His dick was already aching to be freed earlier when he saw you in the shower. Now his balls were clenching and screaming for release.

But it would be a waste to stop now. He didn’t know when you would return. So he pocketed the article of clothing and continued rummaging through your possessions.

He even went through your closet to inspect your collection. What were you into? Did you have a specific brand you frequented? Did you prefer lace or silk? Or cotton, like the one snug and warm in his pocket?

He found a matching set of lace underwear sat in the back of a drawer, a translucent design with roses and ribbons. He inspected it curiously– were you waiting to use them? Were you planning on wearing this for your ex-boyfriend? His lips curled into a snarl. It was a good thing he had gotten the kid off your radar. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see you in such scandalous lingerie. Only he should have the privilege of doing so. His mind raced with thoughts as he traced a finger along the strap of your bra.

Then your door creaked and you swung it open. He turned his head to see you, standing at the doorway wrapped in a fluffy towel that hugged your chest and hung above your knees. Your wet hair clung to your face, rivulets cascaded down your flushed skin. When your eyes met his, you froze. Wide eyes met his.

Uh oh.

Before you could scream, Leon lurched forward and clamped a hand over your mouth. He shushed you softly, mirroring your wide eyed expression.

“I know it looks bad,” he whispered. The force against your mouth prevented you from speaking. You began trembling as his lips inched closer, “But I don’t mean any harm.”

“Mmhmm?!” You mumbled against his palm. He withdrew and you gasped, stepping back while hugging your damp, shivering frame. “Leon, you can’t be here. This- This level is off limits to customers!”

“But I’m not just a customer,” he spread his arms. He slowly approached, footsteps thudding against the carpet, “And c’mon, you like me, right?”

Your eyes were ready to pop out of your skull. “Like you? I mean- Yes but- but not like- Like…” You squeaked as your back thumped against your door. Your hand reached behind and blindly searched for the doorknob. When you finally caught it, the blonde slammed a hand beside your head.

His face inched forward, a frown contorted on his handsome, hardened features. “Like what?” He breathed. You shivered at his warm breath fanning your cold skin. Hesitation paralysed your tongue, and as you struggled to speak, he clasped your jaw with his hand. His questioning, cold gaze was unlike the usual warmth he carried. And it scared you. You swallowed and choked out.

“...Not like lovers.”

A silence ensued between the two of you. The birds outside your window chirped with fervour, as if you weren’t cornered by your customer whom you had grown to trust over the past couple of months. His thick brows knitted tightly against his forehead as he gripped your jaw harshly. You winced, his bruising touch hurt and your hands clawed at his wrist. His nose wrinkled with displeasure as his eyes darkened. He was disappointed, but he couldn’t deny that he saw it coming. Didn’t sting any less.

“So that’s what you think of me,” he spat. Then he smashed his lips against yours and yanked your towel off your body. Your hands flew to his chest as you desperately pushed, a muffled scream on your lips as you resisted. Leon gripped your wrists and slammed them over your head against the door whilst slotting a knee between your trembling legs.

You tried to shout but he shoved his tongue into your mouth and embraced yours in a passionate tango. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t stop him as he shut you up with fervent kisses that sent shocks down your spine. His knee rubbed against your slit, and he bumped into your clit purposefully, eliciting a whine from your saliva stained lips. He pulled away to look at you– and gods, you were so beautiful. So pliant for him, so–

“Help!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs. But your head snapped to the side, and you stared blankly at his shoes. Your cheek stung, pulsating with a dull throb as you placed a hand over where he had slapped you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you refused to look up at him. You tried to run again, but this time he dragged you over to your bed and pushed you down.

Then he flipped open his phone and showed you his photos. You gaped in shock at the hundreds of blurry yet distinct shower pics in his album. The focal point? You.

He met your concerned gaze with a half-lidded one. He spoke quietly and slowly as he held the device over your face.

“You can run, but all it takes is one push and I’ll have this photo publicised everywhere. You wouldn’t want to ruin your parent’s business… right?”

More tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled with a sob. He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lashes fluttered close as your tears slid down your damp cheeks while the water from your undried hair seeped into your sheets. His voice was a broken record as your vision darkened.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright…”

The rest was a blur. All you remembered was foggy vision and searing skin. But Leon remembered it all. You put up quite an impressive fight for a little girl like you. You had landed a blow in his temple and sent him reeling into your bed frame. But you were too weak to run, thanks to all the love bites he left around your inner thighs and legs that left you tingly and numb. You tried to crawl away, but even then it was pointless.

For the most part, you were pretty compliant. Like the good girl you were, you spread your legs prettily when asked and even nursed his cock with your lewd tongue, eyes glazed with tears and self-hate whilst he ate your pussy out. Hell, the rumours were true. Virgins gave the best head. You let him cum down your throat too, like the good girl you were. Your mouth pussy was so tight that he swore he saw angels flapping above him. And the cherry on top was when he finally hilted inside you, becoming one at last.

You laid quietly on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was damp, unlike your body which blazed with an ungodly heat that only hell could compete with. Your heart thumped in your chest, a rhythm unmatched with Leon’s. You couldn’t see his face, and it was probably best this way.

He was your first– a fact you had to come to terms with. You sniffled softly. Even though he forced himself on you, he still made sure to make it not hurt too much. It was too easy to give in to his touches– so you failed to put up a decent struggle. A single tear slid down your flushed cheek. You hated that he was so gentle yet so cruel with you.

For Leon, you would be his last, because he swore he’d never let go of you. He would make you his. Physically first, emotionally second, whatever the order mattered little to him. Because you were now bound to him, your souls intertwined in ways your bodies could never attempt to achieve.

He stared up at the ceiling. There was so much to do, and so much time now that you were his. Today felt good. Great. Pride glowed in his chest and he kissed your damp hair tenderly. You were finally his. Finally his to take and to train.

…

“L-Leon!” you squealed, clawing at the sink that he had bent you over. Jeans and panties pooled at your ankles, sitting on your dirty sneakers. Your lips were bleeding because you bit them to stop your screams.

You always had the wildest reactions to whatever he did. Was it because you were a nervous wreck? It’s been barely a month since he started breaking you in. Quite a bit of time to get accustomed to his antics. Looks like you needed more practice, he mentally noted.

“Shut up,” he hissed, rising to his full length to tower over you. His chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the heat pressed between your butt. “Be quiet or they’re gonna find us.”

You held his gaze in the bathroom mirror, and he placed his hands over yours as you still gripped the sink. Your hair had come undone, a mess that framed your flushed face as you panted softly. Goodness, you looked like a wreck. No thanks to the smug bastard behind you.

The blonde took pride in his work and belted out a laugh. A smack on your ass reeled you over the sink again, and you glared at him. Your eyes screamed: aren’t you a hypocrite? But he answered with a boyish grin that gave you butterflies. The damned smile of the devil himself.

His zipper travelled south and he popped himself out of his pants. He stroked it mindlessly before spinning you around so that you faced him. You stared at him incredulously and he gestured with a nod of his chin.

Leon needed no words, you knew what he wanted. Your bare knees hit the sticky bathroom tiles as you knelt, on tiles where its corners were cracked and filled with dirt that religiously lined its crevices. You took his semi-hard on in your little hand, and it twitched to stand at full length. It curved towards his toned abdomen, jumping in your loose hold. The head was flushed, beads of precum dotted the circumference of the tip.

You looked up at him and licked tentatively. He inhaled through his teeth as you gave him puppy licks, teasing the tip with the curve of your tongue while languidly stroking his cock. His hands carded through your hair, pushing back your stray hairs so that he could see you better. So pretty and willing for him, he grinned, and so eager to please.

A broken moan fell from his lips as you suckled on the tip like a baby on a pacifier. He tugged your hair backwards, and you frowned at him but took him in your mouth fully. You swallowed around his length, and it jumped in your throat as he clamped a hand on your head. He held you steady as he thrust his hips, fucking your throat deep and slow like he liked. He was never the kind of guy to rush a process in sex. Not when your mouth pussy was the perfect toy in the world. All for him to monopolise and use.

He chewed on his bottom lip and groaned. “So good. ‘S perfect for me, shit- Good girl. Taking my cock with your mouth so well- fuck…” He babbled mindlessly, drowning in his pleasure as you clutched the back of his ankles. You gripped onto the scratchy fabric with your fingernails and moaned around his length. Suddenly, somebody knocked.

“Hey. Are you there, (y/n)?” Your father called out. You stared up at Leon in terror, but he was too preoccupied with your throat hugging his dick to even care. You gagged when he jabbed his dick against your gummy walls.

You glared at him with teary eyes, and he gestured at your nose- no doubt reminding you to breathe with it. Gently slapping his legs, you tried to free yourself with a warning look. Leon rolled his eyes and called out, “You’ve got the wrong person. It’s just me.”

“Oh-” your dad recognised him, and he hesitated before saying, this time louder. “(y/n)’s missing, I can’t find her anywhere.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s upstairs,” He grinned as he thrust into your mouth. You gagged again, and he chuckled softly as he stroked the top of your head. “Perhaps she’s taking a shower.”

As if something clicked in you, your eyes widened in fear and you tried to pull away frantically. Not that he’d let you, as he held your head in place from the back, fingers tangled with your hair as he dug his blunt nails into your scalp. A warning to remind you of your place. You complied with a weakened grasp on his pants as you lowered your eyes.

Your father muttered incoherently before stomping away. When a minute passed, Leon finally pulled out and you gasped exaggeratedly, a hand rubbing your sore throat.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you whisper shouted through coughs. The fight in your eyes had returned as you leaned against the wall, pants still pooled around your ankles. The man you mistook for a kind person was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along, a ravenous beast that ravaged you whenever he fancied. You knew that now. If only you had known sooner, then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

“You know you like it,” he said in a sing song voice. You crinkled your forehead as he lowered the toilet seat cover and sat on top of it.

He spread his legs and leaned back. His dick twitched against his stomach. Its length shined with your saliva and blood from your busted lips. Your chest tightened as he coaxed you with the wave of his hand.

“C’mon, finish what you started.”

…

Your parents were on to the two of you faster than he’d expected. There was one time when he almost found Leon and you in the restaurant’s kitchen. If it weren’t for the locked door, he was sure your dad (if he could muster the strength) would chop his balls off and frame them above his bed like a banner. That was how much he had grown to detest the regular, evident in the way he would wordlessly slam his dishes down on his table. Maybe he knew what had transpired in the toilet that day. How he fucked your ass and brains out in the toilet til you were a whimpering, unthinking mess. The store had to close for the day because of the lack of help on the sales floor.

Your dad even refused the fat tips for his wonderful service. Oh, whatever shall Leon do?

Your mother was also a bit of a tough crowd. Eyes sharp with distrust, always keeping her daughter by her side in the kitchen. Her death grip on the butcher knife would’ve been frightening if it weren’t for her trembling knees when he gazed her way. Maybe she also knew of that one time he made you squirt in your parent's room, coating their bedroom mirror with your shared fluids as he pressed you against it. Quite the overprotective parents they were.

And for the other regulars, they continued fantasising about their lovely waitress. Not knowing that she was taken by a traitor among them, a guy that kept to himself in the corners, lighter in hand as he lured your attention as always. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you always found yourself in his arms time and time again.

Your parents were in their room next door as you sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. Two bodies clung desperately together, wrapped in a sweaty embrace as he cupped your plush ass cheeks in his hands, hoisting you up and then dropping you so you’d slam down on his length. His eyes, muddied with desire, were locked with yours as your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. A pile of underwear, his and yours– the lacey one with roses and ribbons (from ages ago)– were tangled on the carpet indiscreetly.

Your hands wandered up and down his scarred back. The tip of his cock jabbed against your cervix, and you whimpered against his lips. Fingernails dug into the scar on his shoulder, an indented wound that caused him to exhale through gritted teeth.

“Leon-” you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. Your nose bumped into his as he bounced you, “-I love you. I love- mhn… love you so much…”

The blonde could barely hear your muffled words over the incessant creaking of your bed. But he nuzzled your nose, a smile playing on his flushed face.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “Love you so much, baby.”

He slowed down his ministries and embraced your lips with delicate kisses. With his twitching cock buried in the depths of your sticky, pulsing cunt, you moaned his name and angled your head for more. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace as you stayed like this, sloppily kissing while basking in the moonlight that seeped from your curtains.

You grinded your softness against his body, chest mushed on his sweaty pectorals. A mewl fell from your swollen lips as you gazed at him longingly. “More, need more.”

“Fuck,” he inhaled shakily. He swiped his thumb under the crease of your eye. “You’re such a needy thing. Drunk on my cock this quick already, hm?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “‘Cause it’s you.”

The man laughed quietly– he swore there were butterflies in his stomach. They fluttered around in his depths as if he wasn’t currently balls deep in you. God, he was so whipped for you. He was such a lucky man– he didn’t deserve your smile.

He carefully flipped you over and placed you on your knees. You rested your head on the sheets, leaned forward to tilt your butt towards him. It rested on your crack, and a giggle bubbled from you when you wriggled against his cock. A playful smack on one cheek echoed in your room. You would shoot him death glares whenever he did that. But today you moaned into the sheets and smooshed your ass against his torso for more.

Fuck, he grimaced. How did you get this lewd? Oh it was thanks to him. With his ego mightily stoked, he chuckled and soothed the hand mark with another.

Leon gripped your waist with one hand, another spreading your cheeks to get a better view as he slid himself into your wetness. You were always a tight fuck, gripping hard enough to snap him in half, but today’s descent into you had him arching his own back in bliss. It was like you were trying to milk his balls worth, like you wanted a bun in the oven tonight.

You gritted your sheets in your teeth, strings of drool snaking down your chin as your body rocked up and down the bed. Muffled moans rose in pitch as he speared your insides, his hipbone smashing into your jiggling ass with the relentless snapping of his hips. Dishevelled threads of blonde hair hung over his tightly lidded eyes, bouncing as he chased his high.

“Fuck fuck fuck. I love you. You’re mine-” he rambled as he slammed into your womb punishingly. “-Gonna breed you with my kids. You want that? Fuck, say you want it!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you babbled his name brokenly. Garbled ‘yes’s fell from your quivering lips, and he snaked a hand under you to slap your clit with his calloused, scarred palm. You gasped and he shoved your head into the mattress when you cried his name in pleasure. A few more slaps and you were trembling like a leaf, your upper body totally collapsed onto the bed like a used doll. Your walls gripped him tightly, ripping out a deep moan from Leon. Then he pressed his hips flushed to your quivering butt and emptied his seed into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, the heat spread to the rest of your body as you hummed softly in approval. You collapsed entirely on the bed, and his dick slipped out with a soft sound. Stained with rings of cream, it hung limply between his toned thighs, and you weakly crawled over to run your tongue along one of its veins.

Leon’s cock twitched on your tongue. Amused, he took his phone and snapped a picture of you. He held the screen beside your face, gazing at the matching blissed out expressions you carried in both. He pushed your hair behind your ear as you nuzzled against his leg. Your eyes began fluttering shut, and he gently adjusted your limp body so that you laid down beside him. He pulled your blanket over the two of you and held you flushed to his chest. Your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and he pecked your forehead with his lips.

You deserved a bigger tip the next time he visited. For your generous customer service. He made a mental note and closed his eyes, too tired to care about the rattling of your doorknob across the room.

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil oneshot #leon kennedy x you smut #cw: smut #cw: noncon #cw: dubcon #cw: blackmail #cw: stalker #cw: breeding #cw: blood #minors dni #minors do not interact #dead dove do not eat

[localkiss]

Screaming for attention!

manipulative brothers best friend re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! Mentions of past grooming by leon, age gap(~8 yrs), manipulation, guilt, dirty talk, p in v, afab reader, noncon creampie, slight anal/talks of anal, codependency, slapping, daddy kink, pet names, depressed thoughts in the beginning, chubby/thicker reader, manhandling, praise kink, degradation kink, talks of pregnancy (just a bit), oral (f receiving), virginity talk, controlling leon, obsessed leon, slight size kink if u squint!

note: hhh... read the warning lol before you comment. I was going to put more of leon being so fucking weird but erm, decided not to. not proof read btw!! but i do want to say i am a victim of SA and i used to heavily think about him and wished that he went further. lol idc what people say, i still struggle thinking like that, but ik it's wrong. so yes that's what this fic is loosely based on -_-

wc: 3.1k! tags: @rigorwhoring, @argreion, @xoxostarlet, @fairry1 bc I love u all :33!

Maybe it's for the best. No more surprises. This is nothing new. All you can hear is deafening silence, swallowing you up in a warm cocoon, suffocating you like a million years of guilt and thousands of weights on your throat and chest. 

You can't help but wish he had done more. Maybe he would've if he could see your thoughts. Maybe he would've stayed.

But those sleeping pills really did a number on your body. You tried to overdose on everything you could, even your antidepressants. Yeah, it was dumb. But it was all just killing you from the inside anyway. 

All you can do now is just sob violently into your pillows. Claw at the sheets and at your scalp, so pathetically. No wonder he chose you. So fucking easy to manipulate, to knead into someone he can use. No wonder he said he only loved you like a friend after he finally got caught in the act.

Whatever it was that he said, you can't remember exactly. You just tuned him out. White noise oozing into your eardrums like water does when you stand underneath the showerhead. He didn't apologize. Didn't explain. Didn't even try to. All you did was cry and plead for him to stay. 

"Please don't leave me, Leon. Please, I can't live without you! I love you! Please!" You sobbed into the phone because, yeah, he broke up with you over text. It's not like you guys were even in a relationship. The age gap was too big and illegal to even be considered a real relationship. 

You knew he was so much older than you. Liked it. Knew it was wrong, yet went forward with it. He should've stopped it. Should've. But he didn't, though. 

You still love him deep down in your heart. He was your first love. First 'boyfriend'. First person to grope your body. You asked for a kiss, and he pressed his chapped lips against your forehead. He asked you for ass pictures, and you gladly sent them. Giggling happily whenever he complimented you and your body.

He's still your ideal type. A cuddly, tall, muscular brunette. 

You wish you could stop yourself from comparing every guy to him or hoping they won't end up like him. Using you and throwing you away as soon as they got what they wanted. 

But, now that you're legal, he reached out to you. Said some nonsense to try and get back into your heart. You didn't even care what he said. Just wanted to feel alive, to feel loved, and to be loved again. Even if it meant being loved by your abuser, you would let him drag you through hell and back if it meant he would love you like he did in the past. If it meant you could feel happy, free, and weightless again, you would march into hell with him.  

As messed up as you are, you would do anything to make him stay. So that you can feel full again. Happy again.

"Wish you would've taken all of my firsts," you pouted as he pulled away from your lips. Swollen and red, so pretty.  

Leon grinned and raised an eyebrow at your statement. "Really, baby girl? Damn," he bites on his lower lip, and his thumb brushes across the apples of your cheeks. 

Taking in the way you look different but still the same as you were years ago, just a bit fuller in your hips, thighs, and stomach, he remembers when he gripped your thigh with both of his hands. Couldn't even manage to grab ahold of all of the fat. A few inches away from completely grabbing your thigh with both hands. 

Now, he probably couldn't even make it so that there were a few inches between his hands; it would be a bit of a distance. That's how much you've grown width-wise. Length wise, you haven't really grown much. 

"Yeah, daddy," you preen under his attention, shifting your weight from your heels to your toes, and back down flat on the floor. "I mean it." 

He lets out a soft chuckle, and his calloused hands softly grab onto your shoulders, rubbing small circles into the fabric of your shirt. "Wish I could've taken all of your first too, baby. I know I would've made it all special for you. For my special girl." Leon coos, his head dipping down to lick into your mouth.

Hot spit trickles down the back of your throat and onto your chin. Making you squeeze your doughy thighs together, moaning as his hands squeeze down to your ass. Pressing you up against his built body. His hard-on throbbing against the confines of his skinny jeans, onto your soft, pudgy tummy.

He groans as you tug at the hair on the back of his head. Pulling back and squishing your cheeks together, and then tapping your face as you try to press your lips on his. His blue eyes darken as you moan when his hand makes contact with your face. 

"Fuck," he grips onto your chin, forcing your mouth open to let a wad of spit hit the edge of your tongue, letting it slide down into your tummy. "Daddy knew you'd like that. I've got a slutty little princess, huh?" 

It's a rhetorical question, but you answer with a few quick nods.

"Yeah, daddy, I'm your slutty little princess." Always so quick to repeat what he said. What he drilled into your brain years ago obviously holds up. You still want to make him happy, even if he ruined you for anyone else. Ruined you for life.

The corners of his lips quirk upwards, his hands giving your ass a quick squeeze before he pushes you down into the bed. He climbs on top of you like a hungry animal, licking his lips at the sight of his prey.

A whine escapes from your throat at the sight. He's gotten even more attractive and bigger, and it's making your brain all mushy. Shooting directly down to your core, feeling it gush out slick onto the gussets of your panties. 

You lick your lips and wrap your legs around his hips. "Please, Leon." 

He lets out a low growl, his veiny forearms coming up by the sides of your head. Firmly planting them on the mattress as he rocks his hips into yours. His bangs fall into your face as he teasingly grazes his lips against yours. Panting hotly against your lips. 

"Relax, baby," is all he says before he moves his mouth, making a wet trail from the corner of your lips down to your jawline. 

"Let me love you." Leon murmurs into your skin as he sucks a hickey underneath your ear, making you gasp and squirm beneath him. 

You become pliable, easy to bend, and easy to please. Brain too foggy to clearly think straight. Leon's marking up your neck like you'll try to run away from him. It's like you're his property now. God, you've always been his, ever since that fateful day, right?

Just a few words, and he can do whatever he wants with your body. Maybe one day you'll let him take your first time with your other hole. Who knows. 

"So pretty, fuck," his tongue dips between the valley of your breasts, hands grasping at your shirt to push it up, exposing you to his hungry eyes. His knee slots between your thighs, making you squeak and squeeze his leg involuntarily. Pressing your tits together to swipe his tongue across your perky nipples. 

Bathing your tits in his spit, he suckles on them like a madman. Enjoying the way you mewl and gasp, using his teeth to draw out more noises from you. Obsessed with every single part of you, even the not-so-pretty parts. He has you mapped out in his mind, his sweet, supple princess. 

"Has anyone ever eaten you out?" Kissing your areolas, soothing the small bite marks he left. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, brows furrowed in concentration. He's doting on you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again. 

"No," you say, pressing your lips together in a flat line. Feeling your stomach tighten up with butterflies and hints of nausea. 

Leon likes that. So much so that he smiles into your stomach, softly gnawing on the pudge around your belly button, earning some soft squeals and pats to try and push him away. He wants to make you crumble under him, submit to him, and never leave. Never want another man. Always comparing someone to him, wishing they did it like him. He wants to plague your mind and control you from the inside out. 

He wants to tie you up in his bedroom and never let you leave. Live your own life? No. Leon wants to drill it into your brain and body that he owns you, no thoughts about anything else but him and his body. 

He pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, watching the string of your arousal stick to the gussets of your panties. His large hands pry open your legs, pushing them up to your chest and holding them down with his weight. 

"Remember this," he spits onto your pussy, watching it swim down to your holes. Squeezing your legs when you squirm a little too much for his taste, deciding to spit once more to make sure you'll have his DNA in you for the next couple of days. 

Pressing chaste kisses on your clit because he knows it'll make your mind go all fuzzy and only think of Leon, Leon, Leon. And how good he's making you feel. Nobody else but him.

He dips his tongue between your folds and begins to languidly make out with it. Thrusting his tongue and swirling it upwards as his upper lip continues to make contact with your clit. Drawing out all sorts of pathetically cute noises from you. 

Wishing he was recording this so he could show it to his friends and brag about how he has molded you to be his perfect girl. You're not a woman until he fucks a baby into you. 

"You like that?" He suckles on your clit and gently bites down on it. Watching the way your face crinkles up and how you squeeze your eyes shut. Everything you do amuses him. 

"Daddy, mmh... god, yes!" You grasp the sheets as you feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen. Toes curling as Leon fucks his tongue into your drippy hole. 

He shakes his head, pressing his nose into your sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to get you to cum quickly. 

Your hands desperately try to reach for Leon for comfort as you stumble into an orgasm. "Daddy... Mmphh—fuck!" 

Legs kicking out and vibrating as he coaxes you through your orgasm. Slowly swiping his tongue through your folds to slurp up all of your cum, he presses soft kisses all around your pussy. "Such a good girl," he sighs. 

Leon spreads your legs, kissing his way up to your face. He licks his way into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue and gulp down some of his saliva. "So easy." He puts his hand on your neck, lightly applying pressure as he goes back in for more kisses. Make sure you never leave this cloudy state of mind, so he can do whatever he pleases with you. 

"Maybe I can even eat you out here," he says, letting his hand wander down to your asshole and lightly tracing the rim of it. Feeling you tense up brings a sly smile to his face. "No? Okay. Maybe next time." He chuckles and pulls back to unbuckle his jeans. 

Slowly undoing his belt and putting it next to you on the bed. Unzipping his fly as he makes direct eye contact with you the entire time. He makes you gulp nervously as he finally pushes his jeans down his muscular thighs.

Your eyes immediately jump to his hard-on. How does he even keep that thing in there? It's begging to be freed, and quite frankly, you want to run away out of nerves, not believing his cock can even fit inside of you! What the fuck did Leon even eat for it to even have grown that big and thick?

Leon sees the cogwheels turning in your head as he steps out of his pants. With each step he takes, it bounces against the slightly stained, striped fabric. "Baby, don't be so nervous. It'll be alright." His voice is soothing and convincing, almost hypnotic in the way it makes your body buzz and your mind go blank. 

It is a bit terrifying to think about the effect he honestly has on you, your mind, body, and soul. 

"Are you on the pill?" He asks, although he already knows the answer. 

"No, I'm not." You mumble shyly. Embarrassed to not be on some sort of birth control.

Leon reaches down for his wallet and pulls out a condom. "Good thing I always come prepared, huh?" Chuckles as he pulls down his briefs, stepping out of them as he tears open the condom packaging. He slipped it on his drippy and flushed tip, sliding all the way down to the base. 

Slowly kneeling on the bed to lead his dick to your hole. Sliding through your folds to gather more fluids to make the first push easier on you. 

"Ready?" He grunts as he teases you by tapping himself on your swollen clit. 

"Uhuh, 'm ready," you whine as he slowly eases himself into your pussy. 

Moaning as you helplessly flutter and tighten around his shaft. Watching your face carefully as you scrunch and tense up. Stopping halfway and grabbing ahold of your hand, his other one grips the fat of your hip so tight it'll leave a bruise the next day. 

"Almost there, baby girl, doing so well for me," he presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he drives more of himself deep inside of you.

You look down at your stomach and tighten around him as you notice the bulge from his cock being so big and deep inside of you. His tip is brushing against the opening of your womb.

"Nnh, Leon, too big," you gasp as he rolls his hips against yours. Legs squeezing against his waist as he slowly starts to thrust shallowly.

"Baby, relax. Can barely pull out of you," Leon rasps in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you try to force yourself to relax around him. 

"Mnmph, sorry, Daddy. Please—" you pout, squeezing his hand tightly. Trying to signal for him to start pounding your needy cunt already.

He nibbles on your earlobe, slowly shifting his hips to thrust in and out of you properly. Soft plap, plap, plap, of his body hitting yours, making sure that he hits your g-spot. 

You swallow a whine as he lets go of your hip to lazily rub his thumb on your swollen little button. Hearing the way your breath hitches and seeing the slight curve in your spine makes all his administrations worth it. Slowly speeding up his movements as he squeezes your hand, groaning low in his throat when you clench around him tightly like a vice. 

"Tight cunt all f'me," he thrusts harder and harder, making it difficult to keep quiet. Soft punched-out cries leave your lips alongside Daddy, Daddy, Daddy's. "Fuck, daddy's gonna make you cum so hard around his cock, might even make you scream." 

Leon slowly pushes your legs up, putting you into a mating press as he drives himself deeper into you. Fucking into your womb, which craves his thick cum. Ecstatic with the idea of 'accidentally' slipping the condom off and cumming deep in your womb. Get you pregnant and finally be his woman. 

"God, wanna get you pregnant so bad, baby," he pants, bangs falling into your face with each harsh thrust. "Would take care of you and the baby. Mmhh shit—would suck the milk outta your fat leaky tits." 

Drools into your mouth as he kisses you with fervor, teeth clashing as his dick continues to fill up your sloppy pussy. 

"Leon, please, 'm so close," you hiccup as he vigorously rubs your clit in tight circles. Your legs brush up against his head as you feel that familiar warm coil in your stomach. 

"Cum for me princess." Leon's eyes darken; pupil's swallowing up his iris as he watches you unfold before him. Because of him. 

Your body tenses up and convulses with each swipe of his thumb on your sensitive nerves. Letting out a silent scream, your eyes close tightly as you try to hold onto Leon as best as you can, feeling his hot breath on your kissed, swollen lips. His fat cock is hitting all the right spots, almost painfully good as he fucks you deeply. Constantly pressing up against your womb, making your toes curl. 

Slowly rutting through your orgasm, he feels his own start to creep up on him. "Fuck, hold on, baby. Gonna pull out for a sec," he pants, pulls out of your heat, and discreetly pulls off the condom, letting it fall on his jeans. 

He quickly puts it back in before you can notice, giving you a spine-chilling smile. Giving you a few pecks on your lips and on your forehead as he uses you like a fleshlight now. 

Letting out soft whimpers and moans, he puts his head on your shoulder. The sounds of sex are his favorite sounds. Your crying is his favorite sound in the entire world. Nothing can top you crying out for him while moaning like a total slut. 

"So fucking hot, Jesus Christ," he groans, hips rabbiting into your pussy. Your insides are so warm and so wet, he feels like it's the first time he's going raw ever. Orgasm on the fence with each thrust. That and you're making all these noises, it's hard for him to concentrate on not cumming so fast. 

"G'nna cum, babe, holy fuck—" He lifts his head off of your shoulder and kisses you feverishly, spitting deep into your throat. Putting his forehead on yours, his nose touches yours as he grunts, pumping his cum into your pussy. Sticky white ropes straight into your womb. 

Panting and whimpering as his cock slowly ruts into your messy cunt. "Fuck... So good," he chuckles lightheartedly. 

Your pussy quivers around his shaft as it softens up. It feels so hot and sticky, and your mind is too fuzzy to even process that he came inside. A dumbfounded smile plastered on your flushed pink face makes his heart swell up. 

"Such a good girl. My good girl, right?" Leon nuzzles his nose against yours. Driving the fact that you'll always be his. Even if you move across the country, he'll always follow. Always in your shadow. 

"Uhuh," you respond shyly, giggling at the affection he's giving you. His eyes soften up, and you take in his face. The light stubble, small acne scars, and the way his hair is fading from dirty blonde to brown. "always, daddy." 

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #leon smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #leon resident evil #re4 leon #re4r leon #leon scott kennedy #localkiss

[ghostkennedy]

Workplace Romance

~ID! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 7213

Content warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, dub-con, serial killers, murder, leon's a major asshole and mean to reader, lots of arguing, confrontation, drugging, kidnapping, use of shock collar, degrading, pet names, serious bodily harm, forced self-harm, crawling, descriptions of blood/pain/body mutation, forced blowjob, cum swallowing, piss, reader pisses self, removal of an appendage/body part, capital punishment, death row, lethal injection, masturbation, very little comfort, no happy ending

the content warnings are a mess, but i think i included everything.

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!

Agent Leon Kennedy. A name you weren’t familiar with until a few weeks ago. Now, he’s the leading cause of all your headaches.

He’s a renowned FBI agent. Not only is he an excellent detective, but an expert in serial killer psychology.

He’s successfully led in the investigations and captures of eight serial killers and helped in the convictions of upwards of a hundred murderers.

He’s spent years studying the minds of serial killers. He can find the smallest bit of information and utilize it to get inside a killer's head. He’s the FBI’s serial killer specialist and if there’s ever a suspected serial killing, the case files land right on his desk.

And that’s what’s brought the two of you together.

You had just made detective at the Raccoon City Police Department, but the training was subpar. Any case that goes through this department is almost guaranteed to go unsolved. It’s not the station's fault, but the lack of funding and resources that has led to its downfall.

You’re up to your neck in cold case files. And crime that needs any sort of investigation is immediately your obligation. You’re a one person department and absolutely set up to fail.

When the FBI finally shows interest in the series of murders taking place throughout the city, you’re honestly relieved. Anything to ease your heavy workload. But it all changes when you meet him.

Agent Leon fucking Kennedy.

He’s a cocky bastard who undermines your department, which is solely you, constantly. He is unimpressed with the investigative work done on the case and won’t hesitate to insult your abilities as a detective.

And the man is basically untouchable.

He’s the FBI’s golden boy who can do no wrong. Everyone in the station worships the ground he walks on because he’s here to save the town, like a superhero. He’s the best of the best and everyone is expected to tolerate him. No exceptions.

It doesn’t help that he’s absolutely gorgeous. Always looking so well put together, a calculated appearance that never falters. Men and women alike gawk at the man. Whether they want to be with him or be him, you’d be stupid to not acknowledge it. 

A brown fringe cascading around his face. Pretty blue eyes matched with a prominent nose and jaw line, a dimple centered in his chin. Even the stubble lining his jaw is flawless. His eyebrows are knitted together in a permanent scowl. He looks like he despises the world and it makes him that much more enticing. 

And it pisses you off entirely. If he was just some mediocre, average looking man, it’d make hating him so much easier. But of course the jackass is incredible. It makes you wanna pour acid in your eyes just to give you your peace of mind back. Seeing is believing, right?

Without a single break in the case and no solid leads, you’re happy to take a step back from the case. It doesn’t mean you don’t care, but the crime rate in town has been steadily rising and you know you can help better elsewhere.

You walk into the station on what you thought was a typical Tuesday morning. But you’ve barely made it through the front door when you’re met with chaos.

People are running around, coming in and out of the station. The noise level is atrocious and has you wishing you’d caught the fucking plague because it would be less exhausting than this.

You barely make it five paces into the station when one of the coworkers you actually bother with appears at your side.

“It never stops, does it?” Jill says breathlessly.

You shake your head before replying, “What’s going on now?”

“Wait, you don’t know? Shouldn’t you be the first to know, actually?” She stops dead in her tracks, which in result causes you also to abruptly stop.

“Considering I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have no idea.” You cross your arms over your chest and turn to face her.

She sighs and places her hands on her hips. “They found another body early this morning. Everything matches up with the previous ones, so it’s basically confirmed to be one of his.”

“Another body? This will be his tenth fucking kill.”

“Thank God we got the FBI on it then?” Jill quirks an eyebrow at you, causing you to roll your eyes in response.

Jill is one of the few people seemingly in the world to not care for Leon’s bullshit. She can’t stand the man and isn’t afraid to voice it. She’s your number one defender and isn’t shy about arguing with the dreaded FBI agent.

“Maybe he’ll finally be good for something other than making my life a living Hell.”

Jill reaches out and squeezes your shoulder as she shakes her head. “But at what cost? Let’s hope the sweet, tender boy can magically solve the case and fuck back off to wherever he flew in from.”

Another coworker comes up and pulls Jill away from you. As she marches away behind the man, she turns and waves at you. You hate that you instantly wave back, but it’s Jill. You’ll look like a dork over and over for her sake.

You lower your hand and sigh, but before you can even begin walking again, a presence takes shape beside you.

“What are you doing?” An unmistakable snarky voice calls out to you. Your muscles instantly tense up in his presence, like your body is physically rejecting him and his aura.

You scoff as you begin walking again. “None of your business, Leon.”

You’re annoyed when Leon meets your big strides, keeping up with you pace for pace. You both remain silent as you quickly arrive at your office door.

You go to close the door behind you, but Leon pushes past, welcoming himself into your office. You’re frozen in place for a second in your confusion, but you quickly snap out of it and sink into your desk chair.

“What’s up?” You fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair. Being around Leon is exhausting and you can already feel this conversation draining you.

Leon doesn’t take a seat, instead choosing to stand tall above your desk, looking down at you.

“None of your business.” Leon mocks you in a shrill voice. 

“What’s up?” His eyes meet yours, locking in an intense stare.

“You need to address me properly. Agent Kennedy, not Leon.”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden authority in his voice. When he doesn’t speak up again, it prompts you to instead.

“Okay. But I would appreciate it if you addressed me properly too, Agent Kennedy.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

You quirk your head to the side, shocked by the pure audacity of this man. The audacity to demand respect when he can’t even give it. It’s infuriating.

“Well, Leon, I don’t appreciate being disrespected in my own-“

“Earn it.”

You shake your head in exasperation at his interruption. Yes. Infuriating is the best word to describe this man.

“What?” You release a heavy sigh, already exhausted from the few words exchanged.

“Respect is earned. Earn respect and you will receive it.”

“You haven’t earned-“

“I’m the FBI’s best asset when it comes to convicting serial killers, not to mention all of the side work I’ve done in homicide prevention and precaution. I’ve earned goddamn respect and I expect it, no exceptions.”

He slams his hands down on your desk, causing you to jump, your chair screeching across the floor as you put more space between you two.

Your voice is shaking as you throw your hands up in the air, “Fuck! Okay! Sorry, Agent Kennedy.”

He gives you a final death glare before backing up and causally stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. It remains silent as you two stare across the room at each other.

“Anyways, I needed to talk to you.” He finally sits in the chair and your shoulders visibly relax. You hate yourself for being so visibly nervous in his presence currently, but it was out of your control.

“What about?”

He clears his throat. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but my bosses have instructed me to take you under my wing. Teach you what I know. And it’s my obligation to follow those orders and I think it’s in your best interest to do so as well. It would be very beneficial to you.”

Your eyes fall closed as you barely manage to hold back a groan. Your head falls back, scalp connecting with the back of your chair.

“You just made detective, correct?”

You sigh and look back up at him, “Yeah. Not even a month ago.”

“Then let me help you. There’s no one here to train you on how to be a good detective, a good investigator. I know a thing or two. You just have to let me help you. Also, it’ll be better on my conscience if I leave here confident in this station's sole detective.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m being serious. I have a lot to teach and you have a lot to learn. You’d be stupid to not take full advantage of this opportunity.”

You remain silent, lost in your own thoughts. You were confident with your abilities as a detective. Confident with your capability to solve cases, but he has the experience that you don’t. But he’s also Leon Kennedy and that alone is almost enough to make you say fuck no.

“How many people have died at the hands of this killer? That we know of so far.”

“9 I believe.”

“10 after the discovery this morning. And there could be more we don’t know about. You don’t wanna solve this case? Wanna bring this sick fuck to justice?”

“Well, of course-“

“Then work with me. How many more innocent people need to die?”

You release a heavy sigh. “Alright, alright. We have a deal or whatever.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Weeks have passed and Leon’s arrogance has only gotten worse.

The belittling, the undermining, just everything he does has you raging. You’ve given up on helping with the investigation because anything you do is scrutinized. You found a solid piece of evidence that could have easily been looked into, but he rejected it and told you to disregard it.

No matter how hard he tries to make you feel like it, you’re not an idiot. You’re a great detective and nothing about this situation is right. His behavior, his attitude, his methods of operation are all suspicious as hell, so how could you not look into him?

You’re not exactly sure what you were looking for. Maybe a sign that he was taking credit for work he didn’t actually do? Or maybe a sign of him planting evidence?

Why couldn’t you have just minded your goddamn business?

You’re the only two left in the station, working late on the case. To say things are tense is a fucking understatement if you’ve ever heard one. 

“Can I ask you a question, (Reader)?” 

Your head shoots up from your computer screen. The way he says your name has chills running down your spine, has you struggling to swallow. 

“Um, yeah. What’s your question?” 

His elbows are on the table, his chin resting on the backs of his clasped hands. “Did you find what you were looking for?” His tone is accusatory and it confuses you.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” 

“Don’t play stupid.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why were you looking into me?” He brings his hands down to the table and leans in closer to your side of the table. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

Your heart is in your throat as you struggle to find the words to explain yourself. “What kind of detective would I be if I didn’t?”

He snickers. “Answering a question with a question. Classic. But I’m not interested in beating around the fucking bush, so how about you just tell me what you were looking for.” 

You take a deep breath before straightening your spine and feigning a confidence you definitely don’t feel. “Okay. You’re suspicious as fuck. And I don’t trust you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“And what did you find?” He snaps at you. You don’t understand why he’s taking such offense to a detective doing detective work? He didn’t anticipate this? 

“Nothing. I didn’t find anything.”

“And do you still have your suspicions about me?”

“Yes.” You answer his questioning immediately. You’re not sure what compels you to do so, but your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I still don’t understand why you act the way you do.”

He looks away from you, pulling a file out of his briefcase and flipping through the papers inside of it. “What were you hoping to find?”

“I-” you’re once again stumbling over your words. No one has ever made you so nervous, no one has ever triggered your flight or fight as much as he does. Alarms are constantly going off in your head about him and you hate it. “I just wanted some answers.”

“Then fucking ask.” He slams the folder shut and tosses it down the table. “Ask me your questions. Don’t be a baby about it, going behind my back to find them. You’re a big girl. If you want answers, come and get them.”

“Why are you such a dick?”

“Because I can be. Next question.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Obviously.”

“We’re getting nowhere. Nevermind.”

“Wait!” You yell at him, reaching out and grabbing his wrist as he goes to stand up. “I’m sorry. You just piss me off.”

He pulls his wrist from your grasp with a disgusted look, but he doesn’t get up from his chair. He stares at you silently, which means he wants you to speak up. He’s so fucking entitled, you have to refrain from going off on him for the billionith time. 

“Why do you brush me off constantly? I bring you solid, concrete leads and you treat them like they’re nothing. You’re leaving so many loose ends. We’re not any closer to solving this case. Why?”

He hums at you like your question is invalid. You don’t know what you expected. Of course he was just going to be a prick like he always is. 

“That’s your perspective on it. A false perspective, but one nonetheless.”

“What does that mean?” The offense is obvious in your voice. More belittling, more brushing off your valid concerns. Of course. Of fucking course.

“Because I’ve followed every last lead and every little piece of evidence. It’s not my fault you can’t keep up.”

“Bullshit!” You’re both surprised at your outburst. You can’t hold it back anymore. You can’t stand the lying and fucking diversions anymore. “I’ve been watching you, Leon. I haven’t seen you investigate shit. You pick and choose where you pay attention. This is the FBI’s very best? It’s fucking pathetic.”

He keeps his expression blank and neutral. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck it is you do that’s so fucking incredible that you’ve solved so many cases. Are you taking credit for other people’s work? Are you planting evidence? That’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re an opportunist. It’s like you’re just silently waiting to find the perfect person to blame. Is that it? You frame people to make yourself look better? What is it?”

Your voice is desperate and it’s genuinely embarrassing. But you are desperate. And you don’t wanna sit by anymore, not with the terrible suspicions constantly plaguing your exhausted mind. 

“You think I’m covering up for serial killers? You realize how crazy that sounds, right?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. It’s not that fucking farfetched.”

“Why would I do that?”

You let out a noise of frustration, “I don’t know! To make yourself look better? Everyone worships you for the work you’ve done. Maybe it’s for the praise and glory, to stroke your ego.”

He smirks at you and it only enrages you more. 

“You told me to ask you questions!” you yell at him, “Now give me fucking answers!”

“I don’t give a shit what people think. You think I would cover up for serial killers to make myself look better? That’s stupid.”

“Then maybe you have another reason!”

“Like?”

“I don’t fucking know! For all I know, you’re the serial killer and you just frame people to cover your own ass. Your job would be the perfect guise wouldn’t it?” It’s just word vomit pouring from your mouth at this point, but something about what you’ve said has Leon jumping to his feet.

Before you even have time to react, he’s leapt across the table. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing you back in your chair until you go crashing to the floor. You cry out in pain as your skull connects with the ground.

Your vision is fuzzy from the impact, but you slowly blink your eyes until they focus back in on Leon’s body hovering over yours. With the grip he has on your throat, you can’t speak. All you can do is look up at him and the unhinged expression on his face.

Leon shifts and there’s a sudden sharp, burning pain in your neck. Your arms shoot up and your fingers connect with the syringe in your neck. Your eyes widen in fear.

“Good detective work, baby. You’ve figured it out. Congratulations! You found your guy!” His smile is huge and combined with his crazy eyes, has you shaking beneath him.

The muscles in your body quickly start to tingle as you lose control of them, slowly going limp beneath him.

“Goodnight.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you pass out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

You’re awake, your eyes are open but your brain still isn’t able to process anything. You stare blankly as you try to actually wake up. The room is a blur and you can hear a voice calling out to you, but you can’t make out what it’s saying.

Sudden white hot pain has your consciousness finally catching up with you. You’re gasping for air as you finally take in your surroundings. 

The room is dirty, trash littering the floor around you. The only object in the room is a chair on the other side of the room.

“Good morning. Thought that’d wake you up.”

You push yourself up into a sitting position as Leon appears in front of you. He gently pats your head causing you to cower away from him, but he just laughs at you and walks over to the chair. Every step he takes makes a loud crunching sound as his shoes connect with the debris covering the floor. The only cleared spot is the space surrounding you, just enough for your body to lay in.

You try to speak, but all you can manage to do is cough. Leon sits leisurely in his chair as you struggle through your coughing fit.

The second it passes, while you’re still gasping for air, you call out to him, “Wha-what are you doing? What do you want?”

“Crawl to me.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and in all honesty he is, but he only smirks at the look you’re giving him. He leans back in his chair so casually, legs spread open as his left hand dangles between them. It pisses you off that he looks so good like this. Maybe if he hadn’t just kidnapped you, you would be more willing to appreciate how good the view definitely is.

“I said, crawl to me.” His voice is filled with venom as he points to the ground between his legs. He cannot be fucking serious right now.

You look at the stretch of floor between you two. It’s littered with broken glass and who knows what else. It’s obviously been intentionally spread around. This house may be old and abandoned, but the sharp shards are too clean and perfect to have been sitting here long at all. 

He wants you to crawl through shattered glass on your hands and knees to him. Kidnapping you wasn’t enough. Having complete control isn’t enough, he has to exercise it.

“Leon…” you struggle to find the right words, because what are you supposed to say? It’s obvious that you don’t want to crawl across this fucking floor. “Please don’t make me-”

You gasp as your body goes tense from a sudden, unfamiliar pain. It feels like several wasps just stung your neck, and as quick as it hits, it’s gone. 

Your muscles finally loosen and your hands shoot up to your neck, feeling some sort of rough fabric with a rectangular plastic box at the front of your throat.

“What the fuck is this?” Your voice is strained, still panting as you try to recover from the pain.

He chuckles at you. “You will address me as sir and you will crawl to me.”

Your fingers are still fiddling with the device strapped to your throat, trying to find some way to take it off. But it’s complicated not being able to see what you’re doing. Just when you think you might be able to slip a finger under the tight, firm fabric, the pain comes back.

The stinging pain is more intense this time and longer. You’re about to collapse, unable to keep yourself in a sitting position, when the pain once again subsides. 

You can’t stop the tears pouring down your cheeks, body still shaking and in shock from the intensity of the pain to your neck.

“Now. Stop fucking with your collar and crawl to me.” 

Your head shoots up to him at his choice of words. “Collar?”

He licks his lips while a look of amusement lights up his face. “Yes, dumb little bunny. A shock collar. To help you behave.”

The hand that’s been lazily lying between his legs flips around to reveal the remote in his palm. Your eyes widen as your pain riddled brain slowly catches up to the present. A fucking shock collar. He put a shock collar on you like you’re some fucking dog.

“Crawl. To. Me. Now.” He spits out angrily, his tone sending chills down your spine.

When you don’t make any movement, he makes a big show of fiddling with the remote. Taunting you, warning you. 

You let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, shit okay. I’ll crawl to you.” 

“Crawl to who?”

You push yourself up on your knees and lightly bring your palms to the ground, gently sitting them over top of the shattered glass. “You, sir. I’m going to crawl to you, sir.”

He relaxes in his chair once again at your answer, seemingly pleased with it. “Go on then. What’re you waiting for?” 

You take a few deep breaths, attempting to will yourself to move forward. You know you have to do this, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to make the first move.

“Unless you need some more motivation. We could make good use of that collar.”

Your eyes shoot up and look up at him pleadingly, “Please, no.”

“Then fucking move.”

Leon’s patience is completely gone and you don’t want to see what other lengths he’s willing to go to to punish you. 

You reach out with your right hand and your right knee slowly follows. You hiss out as your skin connects with some of the shards.

“That’s it, being such a good girl right now.”

Your breathing stops for a moment as a blush creeps up your neck at the praise. You’re so mad at yourself for your body’s reaction to his words. This is already fucking humiliating, how much worse can it get?

You move your left hand forward, breathing through the pain as it connects with the floor and your left knee follows. You’re going slow, being careful not to cut yourself up worse by being hasty. 

You move your right hand carefully, blood already spilling from the cuts and onto the glass covered floor. It’s making shards stick to your skin and making everything that much more slippery. 

Your right knee connects with the floor, right as the stinging pain returns to your throat. The sudden shock has you digging your knees, hands, and toes in the floor, heightening the pain you were already in.

The pain in your neck is once again gone and you’re left shaking and sobbing as blood puddles around your hands and knees.

“You know how to crawl. Go faster before you piss me off.”

You don’t know why you’re surprised he wants you to crawl faster, causing worse damage to your body. Of course he does. Why would you ever expect to be granted mercy?

You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. At least you won’t have to see the glass you’re crawling into.

You’re still crawling fairly slowly, but a lot faster compared to your previous pace. You’re whining and groaning in pain and you feel the glass embedded deeply in your skin connect with even more glass. Your lower legs and toes are dragging glass behind you.

You feel the burning pain throughout your hands and legs, but you focus on moving your body forward. 

“Open your eyes.”

You ignore his demands. You’re doing what he’s asking of you and he has the audacity to ask for even more.

“Look at me when you crawl to me. I will not tell you again. Unless you’d like another… shock of encouragement.”

You raise your chin up from your chest and shakily look up at him, opening your eyes. He smiles at you for listening to him and you wanna rip his fucking face off.

Your heart sinks when you realize you’ve only crawled half way so far. The pain is absolutely nauseating and you’re choking down the bile that keeps rising in your throat. 

You begin crawling once again, vision blurry from the tears that are continuously falling.

All you feel is the agonizing pain as you force yourself to Leon’s blurry figure. You’re on the verge of passing out from the pain when you finally place yourself between his legs.

He runs his fingers through your tangled hair, almost soothingly. And you want so badly to jerk your head away, to run from his movements, but you can’t help but give yourself over to the gentle touch. His comfort somehow pulls you back down to Earth from your pain induced robotic state.

“Show me your hands, bunny.”

You go to push yourself up but red hot pain rages through your hands and knees, causing you to scream out in pain. Your body goes to collapse from the sheer exertion, but Leon is quick to catch you, steadying you and forcing you on your knees with your wrists in his hands.

You’re shaking as the glass embedded into your knees is forced deeper into your skin beneath your newly distributed weight. You take deep breaths as you adjust to the new level of pain. Bile fills your mouth, but you’re able to force it back down, the burning sensation of it only adding to your misery.

Your eyes open again after shutting in response to the pain. Your vision clears and you find Leon studying your destroyed hands.

Blood is still oozing from your countless wounds, shards of glass sticking out of your palms and fingers. Your hands and forearms are covered in blood, you can barely see your skin tone through the mess. Your hands are unrecognizable. 

He tsks as he continues to look over them. “These are useless to me now. Shame.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words, not sure what the implications of his words are. He releases your wrists and you let your hands fall limply into your lap. When his hands move to his belt and he starts unbuckling it, you gasp and try to move away from him but are instantly met with sharp shooting pains in your legs from your injuries.

You’re stuck in place and there’s nothing you can do about it. Anything you could possibly need to do will require Leon’s help. Just how he planned it. 

Rope, duct tape, or any other typical restraints are so boring. Glass being embedded into your skin as you sit in your own blood? Now, that’s new and fascinating. You’re a cute little test subject for his vile thoughts and ideas.

He slides the zipper down his pants and you finally look down at what he’s doing. 

What the fuck? He’s hard, not just hard, but really fucking hard and about to pull his dick out right in your face.

Your throat is raw from your previous wailing so your words come out scratchy. “What, what are you doing?”

“Oh, baby… Look how hard you’ve made my cock. It’s only fair that you let me cream that tight, hot throat in return.”

“What?”

“Oh don’t be such a fucking prude.” He rolls his eyes as he stands before you, sliding his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to pop out, his tip poking your lips. You attempt to pull your head back, but his hand is quick to grab onto your hair and push your face into his cock. You’re frantically trying to turn your face away from him, but it only has him gripping your hair impossibly tighter.

“Now, now. You don’t need another shock of encouragement do you?”

“N-no. Please.”

“Then start sucking. And don’t try anything smart because I am more than happy to shock your annoying little ass again.”

Before you can even prepare yourself, he’s pressing his fingers into your cheeks and forcing your mouth open, immediately shoving his cock into the back of your throat. You’re instantly gagging. And you’re already so close to throwing up that you’re certain you’re going to puke all over this man's dick.

“See, princess? You don’t want me to do it my way. So fucking behave and don’t stop until I’m creaming that fucking mouth.”

He pulls his dick out and you’re immediately running your tongue up and down his tip. You’re ready to do anything to keep him from choking you like that again. 

“Make me cum in less than two minutes and maybe I’ll consider sparing you.”

You suck his tip into your wet mouth, the taste of his precum flooding your taste buds.

“There ya go. You’re so hot, all dirty and bloody for me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum so fast. Pretty bunny has such a good mouth when she’s not running it.” He chuckles at his own words as you quickly bob your mouth up and down on his dick.

“Just like that. You ready to taste me, baby? Need to cream this throat.”  He speaks quickly as he starts to thrust, meeting every bob of your head. His grip in your hair tightens as his hips still and he holds his tip against the back of your throat.

You resist the urge to gag and cough as you feel his cum fill your throat. You think he’ll never be done when he finally pulls himself from your mouth and stuffs his cock back in his pants. He refastens his belt and turns to walk away, but stops and looks down at you.

“Here.” He grabs your shoulder, causing you to gasp, as he pushes you down to the floor, until you’re laying on your back. “I’ll spare you.”

And then he’s quickly leaving the house, confident that you’re not going anywhere anytime fast. You realize you’re in less pain being off your hands and knees and breathe a sigh of relief. Your weight is distributed better over the glass, so your back and legs only tingle and sting slightly.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

You’re not sure how much time passes as you drift in and out of sleep, but when the front door finally opens, you can’t mask your excitement at Leon finally returning.

“Leon?” You call out in a happy, relieved voice.

“Hi, bunny. How are you doing?” His tone is lighter than you’ve ever heard it before and it fills you with hope.

“I’m gonna piss my pants, can you take me to the bathroom?” The back of your legs are getting badly cut up because you can’t keep your body still as your bladder throbs and aches.

“Sweetheart, you’re so silly.”

His tone is mocking. “What?” You're obviously confused and it has him shaking his head.

“That’s not my problem.”

“I can’t get up.” You whine out, praying he’ll give in and help you.

“I know,” he coos at you, “You’re gonna have to just piss yourself then. But don’t worry, I’ll stay here and watch.”

“What?” 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It hurts so much.”

“And you know exactly what will relieve you of that pain don’t you?”

“But I can’t get myself up.”

“That’s too bad.”

You’re so fucking confused. You don’t understand what his game is here. It has to be about control, the humiliation it’ll bring you. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and try your best to pretend this isn’t happening, but the pain is only getting worse and worse.

“Bunny… Just relax. You’ll feel better if you just relax.”

“Fuck no, Leon. No fucking way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” You open your eyes and give him a dirty look. “I’m not going to lay on the floor in my own blood and piss! What’s wrong with you?”

He smiles as he shakes his head, “You don’t have a choice, baby.”

You don’t know what to say to him. What can you say? Beg for his help? Hope he actually cares? It’s all so useless. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and clenching every muscle in your body. This is so stupid, so fucking stupid.

“You really want my help?” Leon breaks the silence, pulling you from your thoughts.

You look up at him once again, “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll help you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. He’s going to help you, there’s some sort of hope. If he can find it in himself to help you now, maybe you’ll be okay. Maybe everything will fall into place.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a familiar remote. Your eyes widen in shock, realizing what he’s about to do. “Wait, Leon, don’t-”

But you aren’t even able to finish your statement before the shocks are shooting into your body and every muscle tenses up in resistance. A few seconds feel like minutes before the pain stops and your body goes limp on the ground. Every muscle in your body softens.

Before you can even process what’s happening, before your mind even comes back to yourself, you register a warmth growing on your thighs and ass. The warmth spreads further as you come back to yourself.

The second you realize what’s happening, you wish you’d remained oblivious. You try to stop it, but your body is so weakened that you have no more control. 

You lay on the floor in your dried blood mixing with your hot piss. You’re no longer peeing, but the humiliation has tears welling up in your eyes.

The liquid starts to cool quickly in the chilly air and it has you shivering on the floor. It has you wishing you were dead.

Suddenly, Leon’s petting your head and hushing you. “You’re a good girl, you know that? Did such a good job for me.”

Your eyes dart up to his face. “What?”

“So pretty like this. All wet and helpless.” Your thighs clench together at the praise, furthering your humiliation. Leon notices immediately and smirks down at you. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

You whine as he lifts you in his arms. You’re slack in his arms because of the extensive injuries to your body. You feel your piss soaked body pressed against him and knowing your piss is getting on him makes you wanna vomit.

But that’s not the only thing you feel. This time it’s a lot less surprising, but doesn’t make things make any more sense. His erection pressed against your ass and you don’t have the energy to point it out or try to push yourself away from it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Thankfully, not a whole lot of glass is embedded in the skin of your back, so you can happily lay in the blankets piled on top of the mattress without causing yourself any more pain.

You lay with your arms against your sides, avoiding making contact with your hands. Every time you look at your hands, your stomach twists and turns at the deformed skin. They’re cut to shit and glass shards stick out haphazardly all throughout the skin.

“Are you comfortable?” Leon asks as he runs a cold, wet washcloth across your forehead.

“As comfortable as I can be.”

“Good, good.” Leon gets up and walks across the room. You let your eyes fall shut, your body crying out for blissful sleep.

You hear Leon’s footsteps approach your bedside, not bothering to open your eyes. You’re not even sure you could open your eyes if you wanted to.

“Baby, keep your eyes shut for me, alright?” You nod as he softly caresses your cheek, pushing your hair from your face. 

“Can you stick your tongue out for me? I got a surprise for you.” You hum in response, too tired to question him. But you couldn’t help the hope growing in your stomach at the thought he might finally give you some water or food.

You lol your tongue out as far as you can and feel him grab it with his thumb and pointer finger. He grips it tightly. You’re not sure why he’s doing it, but once again, you’re too exhausted to question him or resist it.

“This will be quick.” 

You make a “huh” sound as best as you can with your tongue in its current position, and that’s when you hear a disgusting snip sound followed by squelching. 

You start screaming as excruciating pain sets in. Your screams are cut short as you start choking on your own blood, the liquid pouring from the wound and slipping down your throat.

Leon grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a sitting position, allowing the blood to pour down your chin rather than your throat. Your body is shaking from the pain, you’re on the verge of passing out, feeling the darkness creeping up on you, awaiting to consume you completely.

“There you go, baby. I got rid of the thing that causes you the most trouble. You’re perfect now.”

Your tears pour down your face, mixing with the blood coming from your mouth. You look down at the bedspread in front of you and the sight of your severed tongue has your vision going foggy. You let out one final cry before passing out from the pain and blood loss.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It’s been fourteen years, but you still remember it like it was yesterday. You relive those events every fucking day of your miserable existence. It doesn’t help that you have optimal time to think about it in your small prison cell on death row.

Of course he handed you over to the police with some elaborate story on how he found you out and when he confronted you, you went crazy and mutilated yourself. And of course, you can’t properly defend yourself, considering he took your fucking tongue. You could write out your claims of innocence over and over, but how could you possibly convey it with words alone?

Leon framed you for all of the murders. Planted all the evidence at your apartment and in your car, “finding” all the overlooked leads in your office. It was a pretty open and shut case. Took the jury less than an hour to find you guilty and for you to get sentenced to death.

Tomorrow’s the day. You’ll finally get the lethal injection and be free from your own personal purgatory. You’re confined to a prison cell by yourself 24/7 considering if you show your face outside of it, other inmates are instantly on you. You’re America’s most brutal female serial killer, how could they not want to kill you?

It’d be too easy if the prison would just let the other inmates go through with it. Just put you out of your misery and throw your body into the prison’s graveyard. But no. No amount of suffering will ever be enough to pay for “your” crimes.

You hate yourself. You look at your unrecognizable, mutilated hands and all you can do is sigh as you slip one down between your spread thighs to relieve the ache you feel between them.

In your line of work, you were well aware that trauma could cross wires in your brain. You can’t control your trauma responses. But the fact that your pussy is always soaking wet when you think about his dick in your mouth and the praising words he spoke to you is torture in itself.

You try to think of anything else, anything else at all. Even when your fantasies don’t revolve around that man, you can’t get yourself off without thinking of what he did to you. 

As you lay in bed, shirt stuffed between your teeth to silence your sounds, you feel your climax grow closer and closer and his face above you is all you can see. And no matter how many times you go over it with yourself, telling yourself it’s a trauma response, you know the truth. You know that deep down you loved what he did to you and the only thing that makes you so angry is the fact that he put you here.

Here in this cold, lonely cell to waste away for the rest of your days. Leaving you with a heart, soul, and cunt that aches for him. You know what he’s done and you hate it, but you can’t bring yourself to hate him.

And as your wetness runs down your fingers, coating your palm in the proof of exactly what he does to you, all you can think about is that fucking day. You’re going to die tomorrow and here you are touching yourself to the man that put you here.

Your orgasm tears through you, leaving you a shaking and shivering mess in your threadbear sheets on your paper thin cot. It’d be so much easier to hate him, but you have the curse of hating yourself instead. 

Tomorrow you will die and pay for your crimes. And maybe the crimes you’ll be dying for aren’t yours, but you still deserve to pay for being so fucked in the head. So you’re happy, almost giddy to be dying tomorrow. 

Maybe you’ve gone mad, or maybe you were always mad to begin with and it took him coming along to pull it out of you. Either way, not like it fucking matters. You’ll still be dead and he’ll still be a free man. But you caught the killer and for that, you’ll always be a good fucking detective. 

~masterlist~

#DEAD DOVE #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #smut #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy angst #leon smut #leon angst #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil 2 #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #infinite darkness #infinite darkness leon #serial killer! leon #ghostface leon kennedy #serial killer leon kennedy #ghostface! leon

[mrswint3rs]

Uncanny Reunion

pairings- Nemesis x S.T.A.R.S Fem! Reader

a/n- i’ve been thinking about him a lot today idk why he’s taking over my brain rn // I rlly need to know if his cum would infect you or not

TW DARK CONTENT

NSFW WARNING:

contains- mentions/ implications of violence, monster fucking, fingering(f!receiving), non con (he kinda doesn’t know any better), MAJOR size difference, tentacle fucking 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

For several days, you remained oblivious to what was happening in your city. You spent most of your time holed up in your cozy one-bedroom apartment, not even bothering to glance out the window or switch on the TV. However, everything changed when the terrifying figure emerged and forced you out of your safe haven into the unknown dangers of the outside world.

You’re unsure just what the thing is, but you know it’s not something you want to stick around and figure out. It had already injured you more than you’d expected, making your escape difficult.

Outside, you're met with a scene of utter chaos. The streets are devoid of any signs of normalcy, and instead, you see hordes of undead creatures shuffling aimlessly. You take a deep breath, grateful that you have your trusty gun by your side. However, your heart sinks as you realize that you're running dangerously low on ammunition, thanks to your earlier confrontation with that colossal monster.

You limp your way through the wrecked streets of the city, hoping to find at least one normal person. But you’re surrounded by nothing by hungry, man eating zombies. Definitely not how you wanted to spend your evening.

The zombies were definitely easier to deal with at least. But you’re running out of bullets quickly. Regardless of your perfect aim to the head, there’s too many to just avoid. One bite is all it’d take, even just a scratch and you’d be done for. You just couldn’t make it out of this without proper supplies.

So, you reroute to the gun store. Just a couple blocks away. You were confident that you could make it there somewhat safely. You internally hoped for there to be survivors, even if the chances were slim.

But when you round the corner towards your destination, you freeze in fear, coming face to face with the intimidating being once more. It would be one thing if it was just huge, but it’s huge and armed. With a rocket launcher no less. And it was incredibly fast on its feet. There was absolutely no way to outrun the bastard this time.

As it comes barreling towards you, you almost want to give up. There was nothing you could do, not with 3 puny bullets. They had no effect on the thing before anyways. There were no tricks to pull to make an exit.

You just stand there, not even understanding why it was after you. Was it because you were the only one there? It seemed to be targeting you specifically.

It didn’t matter anyway. You were prepared to accept your fate. Just letting it happen.

Its strong form pummels you into the nearby wall, its force strong enough to completely bust through. But for some reason, it’s holding back.

Wincing, you slit your eyes to take a peek at what’s in front of you. It's got you tacked, but not pushing any further. Just staring down at you like it had some kind of crazy realization.

It lets out a low growl, seeming as if it was fighting itself internally, looking almost pained. “S.T.A.R.S.” Its rumble is almost incoherent, but you understood clearly.

He must be one of Umbrella’s experiments. A So-called bioweapon. That explained why he was after you, but made his hesitation to finish you off all the more confusing. The way he was looking at you almost emotionally. As if he knew you.

There was no way he could. You were aware of how Umbrella mutated and experimented on people. Once they change, their soul and all that they once knew vanish. The human they once were is gone entirely. Even if he knew you prior, those memories were gone. He was just doing what he was designed to do. So why was he looking so hurt? Why wasn't he killing you?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His breath is hot and heavy through his exposed teeth. He was too close for comfort. More so when his strange tentacle makes its appearance, snaking around your neck. You were certain your life was about to end. But then next thing you know, your clothes are being forcefully ripped off.

You're completely disoriented. Raccoon City is crumbling, zombies everywhere, and now a bioweapon is stripping you of your clothing?

His pained expression turned to something else entirely. Almost like before when he was hunting you down. Completely driven with need.

“W-what the hell is this..?” you stammer, only to get a low growl in return. As you try to squirm out of its grasp, he only tightens his hold on your neck. You know there’s no point in even trying. He almost destroyed your entire apartment complex, he could just as easily end you right here and now. Though he’s not.

Instead he’s pinning you to the wall, looking at you as if considering eating you as his next meal.

You let out a squeal at the feeling of his large finger stretching through your entrance. Just one finger was the size of three of your own normally. He was fishing around inside you. Toying with you.

The more sound you made, the more intense his movements got. His breath quickened with yours. This mutant creature was showing human emotion. Driven by pure excitement and lust. His finger glided with no particular rhythm, soaking in your growing wetness.

You feel your knees growing weak. The combination of your lack of oxygen from his stronghold and his relentless massaging of your insides is overbearing. You were already powerless against him before, this just made you 10x weaker.

Just as your vision begins to go spotty, you’re allowed air again. His lengthy tentacle release your neck, instead traveling further down. His finger slips out, leaving you empty for the briefest moment before you’re filled again. This time by the rope-like tentacle attached to him.

It slithers deep into your cunt, pushing past your limits and your cervix, all the way up into your womb. The feeling makes you want to scream, to get away but he holds you there against the concrete wall.

But as it starts to move, you feel an overwhelming heat in your stomach. Your logical brain falls somewhere far away.

The bioweapon continued to play with your hole, letting out low grunts as if he was feeling great pleasure from this. Your eyes roll back as the tentacle slides in and out without mercy, whines and whimpers escaping your lips. You can’t help but cling to the huge form in front of you for support in your helpless state.

Your touch does something to him.

Nemesis struggles, his entire purpose being a killing machine. He was supposed to wipe out the STARS members. That's what he was designed for, yet you did something that made him feel something so overwhelming. He forgot all about his duties as real feelings came into play. He can't remember where he's seen you, or why he feels this intense necessity to have you. But he can't just ignore it. Especially not now. The way you're holding onto him, meekly panting and whimpering as his tentacle fuck up into you, he needs more. You've made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, something he doesn't even remember to be possible.

The tentacle slips out so he can lift you to his height. He does so with ease, his giant arms hook under your legs and lift you up. You sit midway on his stomach, and he just stares at you for a while. Noting your half-lidded eyes, and heated skin.

It gives him uncontrollable urges. Just like his purpose to fulfill Umbrella’s orders. He needs you. Needs to claim you as his own.

Nemesis was a superior being to you, but looking down at your petite form stirred something vile within him. The way your tits sat on your chest, rising and lowering with every breath and your pussy was puffy from his stimulation.

He couldn't stop himself, or understand whatsoever.

Nemesis strips away his lower clothing, revealing the largest and most strangely built dick you've ever laid eyes on. If you could even call it that.

There was no way that thing could fit, anywhere. So you thought.

Nemesis saw no restrictions, stuffing the girthy member into your tight hole. You cry out in agony as it stretches you deeper. You weren't wet enough for it to go in easily. Even if you were, you doubt it would feel any different. Its girth was the size of his forearm.

As he bounces you with his thrusts, the being lets out primal groans, still bearing its teeth and heaving breaths heavy enough to blow you away.

He can't comprehend what this feeling is. He just knows he can't stop. He keeps bullying his cock into your cervix relentlessly, reaching the back of your canal without even having to go very far.

Once again, you rely on him for support. He was fucking the life out of you.

He goes feral with need as you hold onto him again. The feeling of your warmth against him reminds him of something he just can't quite reach. Your helpless cries make him throb.

His hardened length doesn’t cease its assault even for a second as he desperately chases his high. He can hardly feel your nails raking at his back, all the feeling flows to his cock. Your tears wet the thin cloth of his covering, but he doesn’t understand. And it was too good to stop.

Through your blurred vision, you couldn’t even make out where you were anymore. Your thoughts were being stolen from you. You can feel him fuck all the way up into your stomach. Your walls struggle to conform to his shape but he makes them. It felt like you were being torn apart from the inside. You couldn't take it.

Your cries for help go unheard, instead only driving him further. He stuffs you like a toy, ramming into you with his enormous cock at an alarming rate when he feels something. A tightening feeling like something was about to explode.

His breath falters as the sensation takes over.

It spurts out, giving him a strange euphoric high. He groans, continues to fuck into you and milk it out of him. He stuffs his cum as deep as it can go, the slick lubes his need. He couldn't stop. It felt so good.

Your legs tremble along with the rest of your weaker from, there was nothing you could do to get out of this. You thought he'd never stop.

He was addicted to this newfound feeling.

Unexpectedly, he slows. His body is tense and shaky as it begins to feel too good. Almost painful. He pulls out quickly trying to make it stop, his arousal steadily leaking and twitching now beneath you.

Once more, Nemesis just stares at you, that human emotion apearant on his mutated face again.

mlist

#nemesis #nemesis x reader #re3 remake #re3make #re3 nemesis #resident evil x reader #resident evil #tw.dark content #resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 nemesis #fanfiction #smut #fem reader #the brainrot is real #tentacles #x reader #nemesis x you #dead by daylight #dbd nemesis #dead by daylight nemesis

[alienguts]

Music (Ash Williams x GN!Reader HCs)

Warnings: none

A/N: Evil Dead Rise comes out this week, so fuck it, we're having Ash week while I clear out my drafts.

Ash has somewhat rigid tastes in music, let's say.

He knows what he likes and he's not that willing to give anything else a chance.

He has the most Dad™ taste ever. Think of any classic rock band from the 1970s and 1980s and he's a fan of them.

He goes through phases where he likes one band more than others but he's never stopped liking a band altogether.

Well, apart from when Genesis stopped being prog and went more pop...

Ash constantly says that he hates pop music and detests disco, but you've caught him dancing to ABBA in the kitchen more than once.

"It's a catchy tune, babe, you can't blame me."

He will let you have control of the radio in the car but you turn to a charts station and not a rock station, expect some whining.

He does it just to tease you, he doesn't think your taste in music is that bad.

If you have the same tastes as him, though, you're a match made in heaven.

The two of your probably won't be able to afford it, but you pool together your pay checks as often as you can to see your favourite bands live in the nearest cities.

It likely takes hours to drive there and back, but it's always worth it.

He knows how rowdy shows can get and how handsy some people are when they're drunk so he becomes a human shield for you.

You always tell Ash to not get into a fight with someone and thankfully, it hasn't happened yet.

One of his favourite ways to pass time after work is to put on a record and smoke with you before bed.

#ash williams x reader #ash williams x you #ash williams headcanons #ash williams imagine #evil dead x reader #evil dead x you #evil dead headcanons #evil dead imagine #horror x reader #horror x you #gender neutral reader #*headcanons #*my writing

[cherubify]

AFTER DARK / LEON KENNEDY

6.6k words

cw: stepsister! reader, re4r cop leon, pseudo-incest, noncon, dubcon, soft somnophilia, sleep paralysis, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, cunnilingus, choking, slight breeding, super slight anal, dumbification, shower scene, virginity, dead dove do not eat / minors dni

a/n: reqqy by lovely @xoxostarlet <3 tysm!! hope it lives up to ur expectations teehee.. also first time writing some of the content pls show mercy ack.. leon's rlly delulu here n he thinks he knows the solulu (he doesn't). thx for reading!!

After what happened to your father, mother would always warn you about the dangers that lurked in the shadows after dark. It was an archaic but relevant truth that girls shouldn’t be out and about once the sun set, as wolves prowled the streets for any unsuspecting sheep they could sink their fangs into. Especially for blossoming young ladies, who shone the brightest in the night, like stars in a lonely sky. So you took it upon yourself to return home before dinner, when the sun still hung high in the sky and you could see your feet in front of you. While your college mates partied till the crack of dawn, you took pride in returning home for a warm meal with your mother before sunset.

However, your efforts were for naught. All because your mother never told you about the dangers in your own home after dark.

Your sleeping issues began when your mother remarried. Two strangers moved into your childhood home one day, turning it from a quiet home into a rowdier one. Your stepfather, whose name was always on the tip of your tongue, had a son older than you. Leon– a name befitting the pride he carried and his commanding presence. He served in the Raccoon City Police Department, and beneath his police cap was a head of dirty blonde hair and a pair of strikingly cold blue eyes, like he had seen it all. A man in his late twenties, he possessed a slow temper and a mild demeanour. Though he had a bit of a mouth on him, especially when he missed breakfast.

Another thing you learnt about your br- stepbrother, was that he was quite a background character. Slipped in and out of the house without so much of a peep and returned when it was way past midnight. It was no wonder he had eyebags, you thought, since he crawled into bed at one or two. The two of you barely exchanged greetings, but it was always you who reached out first with a demure ‘good morning’ or ‘good night’ when you bumped into him in the hallways. Even then he’d barely grunt in acknowledgement.

It must have been awkward for him to have a little sister at this age, you often pondered. The feeling was mutual; you had never felt this awkward in your own home before. Your new family members were more like legal housemates, dozens of signed papers changed little about the fact that none of you were related by blood. This fact left an unpleasant taste in your mouth. However, your worries turned out to be for naught as your stepfather was deeply enamoured with your mother to look your way. And for your stepbrother… It was clear that he was avoiding you at all costs.

Things started to look up after an awkward encounter in the kitchen. That day you camped inside, determined to get your work done. Along with a heap of textbooks and research papers, you had a plate of sandwiches on the table. Your eyes fell on your paper and you tapped it with your pencil. You found yourself wondering about your relationship with your new sibling. Mama would be happy if you got along with him, but even she was having a hard time getting him to open up.

You prodded at the tiny fonts on the papers. Leon was almost a decade older… and really attractive. Totally your type, if only you weren’t bound by the same family name. You held your head in your hands and groaned outwardly. Oh boy, you were sure to be punished for your sinful thoughts. Like it or not, you were a Kennedy now. And that meant no room for entertaining nonsensical daydreams.

“I’m home,” a voice called out. Speak of the devil. You looked up as he shuffled into the kitchen, a single gloved hand making quick work of loosening his tie. His sky blue uniform hugged his wide chest whilst his sleeves clung desperately to his broad shoulders. Meanwhile his slacks… let’s just say his imprint could tempt even the most modest of church goers. The golden badge pinned at his breast glinted in as he sauntered past you.

The cop took you in from his peripheral. You sat cross legged on a chair in an oversized shirt, the hem of the baggy tee draped over your mid thighs. He narrowed his eyes. Where were your shorts? But he brushed away that thought when you cleared your throat.

You held out a sandwich, eyes struggling to meet his. In this moment you resembled a petrified hamster. “Um, welcome home. Want one?”

When he kept his silence, you showed him the insides between the slices of bread. “It’s just ham and cheese. You’re not allergic, are you?”

The blonde stared at you incredulously. What was with the nauseating domesticity of the situation? Leon exhaled a breath. He had half the mind to leave but your hopeful eyes demanded a response. Why were you so desperate to talk to him? He already felt bad for ignoring you during your random encounters, but now that you gave him no choice…

He raised his brows. You should be feeling as awkward as he was, if not more. He was a complete stranger who started legally living next door with only a thin wall to separate the two of you at night. But he forced a half-smile as he took your peace offering.

“Thanks,” he took a bite while you watched attentively. He held your gaze for an entire second before you shyly lowered your head. Were you expecting a compliment or something? Maybe you were more interesting than he’d thought.

Amused, he walked out of the kitchen whilst you watched owlishly. His footsteps thudded up the stairs and you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smiled to yourself, slumping in your seat. That went well. With your spirits boosted, you continued studying.

For your brother, he had a hard time coming to terms with his father’s remarriage. It had been years since the death of his mother, and he figured he’d more or less come to terms with her departure. As a child, he had long known his father would remarry, and now the time had finally come. However, now that he was an adult, he questioned his father’s decisions to remarry. Why now? He wished he knew. It would’ve been easier on Leon if his new siblings were little kids, in fact he expected it until he was faced with the reality of your existence.

You were pretty, really pretty and cute and all lovely things. Like an angelic cherub, a gift from the heavens that deserved nothing but love and joy. Unlike a brother like him, who often imagined what it’d be like to feel your lips against his. A brother that imagined what your touch felt, and if you’d be so kind to let him explore your body with wandering hands and an eager tongue.

He was sure to burn in the lake of fire for this. He acknowledged that but failed to curb his fantasies that he’d always circle back to whenever he caught a whiff of your shampoo in the hallways when you passed him. Or the lingering scent of your skincare in the bathroom when he returned home from work. And the faint humming he heard from his window in the mornings.

Maybe if he’d have a taste. Just once– maybe he could finally detach himself from you. Better yet, move out and you’d never have to see him again. (He never wanted to live with his old man and new family to begin with after all.) But he knew it was all a pipe dream; you’d never let him push his luck. Not when you were so clueless in his presence, wearing only oversized shirts and panties, as if he couldn’t catch a glimpse whenever you reached for a cup in the cupboards or when you pranced up the stairs. It was worrisome. Did you not see him as a man? Was he really just a brother figure to you? He was relieved but conflicted. If only you were much younger, then he wouldn't have to waste braincells foaming over this predicament.

A knock on his door yanked him out of his thoughts. He lifted his brows. There was only one person who bothered to knock in this household. The door creaked open to reveal you, standing at the doorway. In your hand was a plate with sandwiches piled onto one another, much like the one on the kitchen table. You scratched your ankle with a foot awkwardly.

“Erm,” you started. A sheepish grin settled on your face. “Peace offering?”

He managed a chuckle and prompted you into the room. You set the plate on the table as he patted your head fondly. You peered up at him with one eye as he mussed up your hair.

“There’s no beef between us, silly.” He smiled gently. You swallowed nervously and smiled back. Then you left as quickly as you came, a metaphorical tail between your legs as you hurriedly closed the door behind you.

Yup, he had to be mature. A mature older brother figure. He mused to himself as he sat on his bed, a sandwich in hand.

. . .

Overtime, your sleeping habits worsened. Despite your growing relationship with Leon, there was no improvement in your sleeping patterns. You still came home early and followed through with your usual bedtime routine. Nothing was amiss, but you still struggled to sleep properly.

Perhaps it had to do with how you constantly awoke at the sound of Leon’s boots thudding on the stairs. At the creaking of his door and the hushed volume he spoke in when he bumped into your parents in the hallway. Your heart always thumped at the thought of the blonde being one wall away from you. Months had passed and it was still awkward. A man was on the other side of a single wall. So you took matters into your own hands.

“Sleeping pills? What for?” Your mother peered at you curiously. Everyone, including your step family, sat in the living room watching the telly. Remote in hand, she was searching for a show when she stopped on a psychologist’s podcast.

Something about incestual relationships and how it was connected to trauma. Something something a cycle of brokenness. She switched it to a sports commentary instead.

“Um, recent stuff has disrupted my sleep a little.” It wasn’t a little and it wasn’t that recent, but you weren’t exactly lying. “I’ve tried candles and white noise, but it doesn’t help. So I was wondering if you could get me some.”

Your mother worked at a pharmacy, so it should have been easy enough. She scratched the bottom of her chin and scrunched her brows thoughtfully. Uh oh. You sighed knowingly as she shook her head.

“Pills should be a last resort. Try meditation, maybe.”

She returned her attention to the screen, and you shook your head in disappointment. As you begrudgingly scaled up the stairs, you were stopped by your step brother. He stood at the base of the stairs as he called out to you.

“Hey. I overheard about your sleeping problems. I have some extra pills I can share if you’d like.” He leaned against the railing, arms crossed.

His eyes were focused on yours, but when you hopped down the stairs, they shifted to the bouncing of your chest. You smiled as you stood at eye level with him, unknowing of this as you placed your arms behind your back.

“Really? That’ll be great help,” your relief was palpable in your tone. But then you raised a single eyebrow, “Um- but you’re not gonna tell mom, are you?”

He chuckled, “No way. It’s our little secret.”

You giggled and followed him into his room, where he passed you a little bottle, half full of pills. What you didn’t know was just how strong they were.

You clutched your comforter in your hand and swallowed nervously. The eye bags around your eyes had gotten worse lately, but not to worry. You glanced at the bottle on your bedside table. With these, everything would be fine. Right? Besides, it was comforting to know that somebody cared enough to help. And now your step brother was in on the secret with you.

As your lashes fluttered close, your bedroom door creaked open painfully slow. A pair of blue eyes watched you curiously as your consciousness faded.

Leon knew he was the worst. Knew he shouldn’t be here in his little sister’s room, shouldn’t be kneeling over her body, arms caging her unconscious body on either side. The mattress dipped further into the bedframe no thanks to his added weight. Under other circumstances, you would have awoken from the gentle bouncing if you weren’t so deep in sleep.

The tips of his silky blonde hair brushed against your cheeks as he hovered over your lips. Your chest rose slowly as you exhaled through slightly parted lips, tickling his face as he pressed a thumb on your bottom lip to part them further. You exhaled softly. Pretty. So soft and pink. His padded thumb stroked your lips as his mind wandered.

How oblivious could you be in your sleep? How much could he push?

As he ruminated over his options, you shifted in your sleep with a low groan. You murmured incoherently with a grip on your comforter. With a huff, you tried to pull it over your chest. When it refused to budge– thanks to the weight of his body– you groaned and pulled harder. As quietly as possible, he hopped off your bed and you yanked the comforter over you. A contented sigh of relief followed as you snuggled under the weight of your comforter.

Guilt sizzled his flesh and his face was hot with shame. What did he just try to pull? As a law abiding citizen and police officer, he shouldn’t be–

“...eon.” He stiffened at your sleep talk. His blue eyes shifted to your curled up form. Your face was mushed against your pillow, face scrunched up.

“Not there… Stop… Mmf,” you groaned as you buried your face deeper into your pillow. A steady snore ensued, and he almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of what he had just witnessed.

So it wasn’t just him. He was glad to know you shared the same sentiments as him. Be it small or large, a little shared sentiment was all he needed. Now he could dispose of the guilt eating him away for the past months. He slipped out of your room quietly, closing the door behind him as softly as when he entered.

The pills helped you get much needed sleep. In fact, you felt better than usual. You could focus better in class, your feet carried you further than usual, and besides the strange aching and marks on your body parts from time to time, you were feeling better than ever. You had to thank your step brother for it. Despite his presence being the reason for your sleep depravity, the pills he gave you worked wonders. Soon you would run out, and that meant you'd have to ask him for more. You considered taking some tonight, but you had a long day at school and the exhaustion led you to crawl into bed without reaching for the familiar bottle on your bedside.

Things were going swimmingly with your new family. And sure, even though you were still coming to terms with the eye candy on the other side of the wall– and how you had to calm your heart when you stood in the same room– everything was just peachy. Your lashes fluttered close as a smile settled on your face. Your heart was full, and there was nothing you could wish for to be happier.

Creaking floorboards prompted you to crack open your eyes. Your vision swirled in the darkness and you saw a silhouette of a man. Broad shoulders, big arms… Wait, was that Leon? You tried to speak, but your body was paralysed with exhaustion. Something about how he was steadily approaching you was odd. And wait– why was he in your room? What time was it even?

It was night, you knew that from the moonlight’s hues that your room was bathed in. But how long did you sleep? It felt like you had only closed your eyes for a mere second. Your step brother stopped at the foot of your bed, and through your hazy vision, you stared at him.

The cop’s pupils dilated in the darkness, enough to see your unmoving form on bed. But he failed to notice your half lidded gaze. He sat on the edge of your bed, facing you as he stared. Stared at you for a long, quiet minute. There were no words to describe the awkward tension hanging in the air, a thick cloud that threatened to suffocate you as you inhaled shallowly.

He got up and you managed a quiet exhale. He was going to leave you in peace. That’s what you thought, but when he sidled up closer as your comforter crumpled under him, you held your breath. Now you really had to play dead, hoping that he’d leave the moment he made sure you were really asleep. Just like when in the face of a bear, except unlike one, he was intent to follow through with his plans.

The cop’s hand traced over the outline of your figure, snaking down from your shoulder to the dip in your side, and eventually resting atop of your hip. You prayed that he would neither feel your body trembling nor hear the shaky breaths racking your frame. His hand pulled over the comforter, and cold air swept across your body. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on the back of your neck, and the pillow felt wet under your head.

Your body remained unresponsive as his deft fingers traced the swell of your chest through your tee. A whimper threatened to escape your throat as he stroked the soft curves of your breasts. His thumb found your nipple and he stroked it languidly. He chuckled softly, almost fondly, as it hardened from his ministrations. The lump in your throat grew with each second as he fiddled with your body.

Strangely enough you felt nothing. No fear or anger for him. Your mind was blank, struggling to process the implications of his actions. However your body was honest, and your nipple hardened painfully from each flick and twist he teased it with.

Then you could finally move. But as if you were possessed, your body twitched and one leg kicked out by reflex. It nailed him in the side, and he cursed quietly at your outburst. He stared expectantly, waiting for you to scream for help. But no sound escaped you, and you remained motionless in bed once again. He chalked it up to you freaking out in a dream, and he retreated after carefully covering you with your comforter. You watched with fully lidded eyes as he closed the door behind him. When it shut, you inhaled a painful gulp of air.

. . .

You couldn’t sleep properly again after that night. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots and figure out the blonde was probably paying you visits after dark, which perfectly explained the uncharacteristic body aches and marks you’d find the next day. The fear of your brother entering your room again and staring at you in the dark compelled you to flush the remaining pills down the toilet. He caught you tossing the bottle away and when confronted about it, you forced out a lie. Lying was always a last resort because it made you feel filthy. And now your childhood home– your safe place– was tainted too.

Mother deserved to know the truth about her husband’s son. But she was happy with her new family, especially pleased that things were going well between her two children. You lacked the heart to break the news to her. She was finally happy after grieving over her loss. So you ran away from home, leaving behind everything except your school materials and some clothes. With a note for your mom, you left your family behind.

A silly note that was detached from reality. Something about how you wanted to chase your dreams like everybody else. That you were sorry for abandoning her. Pitiful lies, but you hoped your mother cared enough to let you do as you wished. And she did despite her concerns.

An entire month passed in a flash. Bunking in with a friend of yours, you took on a part time job to sustain you. Life was easier when you weren’t juggling work, school and the fear of being found by your family. You had everyone blocked on your phone the moment you ran away, and you managed to evade the police car waiting outside campus everyday. Until one unfortunate night.

Working at a bar meant two things. One: you reeked of deathly concoctions from booze. The smell emanating from you was enough to knock out even the hardiest of drinkers. And two: travelling alone after dark. You still held your mother’s words close to your heart, but if it weren’t for your cursed step brother you wouldn’t have to traverse dark streets in the quiet of night. Your friend’s neighbourhood was far from the bus stop on the main road, so you had to grope in the dark for at least ten minutes before reaching their place. If only you had a bike, or something. A worthy investment you could use right now.

Tires screeched behind you and you whipped around to see a car rapidly approaching. A pair of lights blinded you and you shielded your eyes with your arms before the car halted to a stop. The heavy slam of a door encouraged you to pry your eyes open, vision twinkling with coloured orbs as you tried to focus on the approaching figure.

“I’ve been looking all over for you–” your blood curdled at the sound of a low voice. The sound of your step brother’s voice. “–I was worried sick.”

It felt like cotton was shoved down your throat and you swallowed painfully. When your vision cleared, you made out a man in a familiar blue uniform. Blonde hair and a pair of piercingly cold blue eyes. It was certainly Leon– and your bottom lip trembled.

Your brother’s eyes were wide like yours, but while anger blazed in his eyes, yours were wide with fear and anticipation. It was clear you were going to go home. With your stepbrother. The thought lit your body with a feverish heat, and you willed your feet to move– to run and escape even if it was futile. But your feet disobeyed and you stood frozen like a stone statue. The man stood sickeningly close, hands clutching either side of your arms.

He was in your face, warm breath fanning your sweat drenched face. His thick brows knitted as he frowned. “Why’d you run away? Mom may have bought your story, but I didn’t.”

So he wanted to know the truth? You maintained your silence with pursed lips. With your face illuminated by the light from his police car, he scrutinised your features. You looked like hell, with deeply set eyebags and a sickly complexion. Goodness, what has happened to you the past month? And why did you look so frightened of him? The blonde wasn’t stupid, he could piece things faster than most. He had long suspected you found him out, that you somehow knew about his nightly visits, or maybe he was right about your suspicions and you were awake that night.

But he had to hear it from you yourself. Why? Because he never succeeded in throwing away that guilt he claimed he would. It had festered like a flesh wound, and his innocent memories with you served as maggots that ate him away as he fought against his carnal desires and his growing affection for you. He knew it was all his fault– he started this mess and maybe your open disapproval would finally put an end to his twisted desires.

So he needed you to tell him off. To scream and shout, let it all out in his face. Leon was selfish, he wanted you to get mad at him. He clenched his jaw and shook you. The force rattled your entire figure and you bit back a sob. He practically repelled back, like oil on water, the moment fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

You buried your face in your hands and he watched in horror. An uncomfortable itch ran down his side– he didn’t know what to do. Endlessly bawling on the streets would not resolve anything. So he yanked you into the passenger seat of the car and drove off.

He parked the car on the side of a quiet road, hands on the steering wheel as he gazed at you from his peripheral. The engine was on, a quiet whirr as the aircon nipped at your tear stained face. You shook like a newborn fawn, and you hung your head and faced your body towards the door. He couldn’t read your facial expression, but it was clear that you wanted out. If only the doors weren’t locked, huh?

Leon drummed his fingers on the wheel. A rhythmic beat that led to nowhere, a consistent tempo that was interrupted by a sneeze or so from you. He planned to bring you home, but maybe the next day, when you were in a better state. So he drove and drove until he found a roadside motel in the middle of nowhere. Perfect for the two of you to work things out. He ordered you to wait in the car as he filled out the paperwork, and after securing a room, he escorted you into your lodging for the night.

Besides practically manhandling you into the place, he was gentle as he stripped you of your clothes. You let him because your head was too muddled with exhaustion to retaliate. Even when his eyes hovered over your naked body, you paid no mind to it. The two of you stood in the shower, underneath a steady stream of warm water. The blonde’s arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in the space between your neck and the curve of your collarbone. He pressed a tender kiss onto your skin, and he gently tilted your head for more excess. Leon’s canines dragged across your flushed skin in an open mouthed kiss, his hand snaked down your navel and-

You snapped out of your daze and pushed him off you. Your feet splashed water onto the walls as your back hit the corner of the shower. Hair was matted against your face as your chest heaved. Vapour swirled in the small cubicle, twirling around the both of you as water pattered onto the bathroom tiles. With your arms wrapped around your body, you squeezed yourself into the corner– hoping to disappear.

You remembered who you were, where you were, and who it was that stood across you. The reason why you had trouble sleeping, and the reason why you ran away from home. Like a kicked puppy, you stared wearily at your nightmare incarnate. Your step brother, who you should be in neither a shower nor motel with. Far from home and far from anyone who would save you.

“You’re scared-” he whispered the obvious. You flinched as he took a step forward. There was a curious brokenness in his tone, like he was hurting as much as you were. “I get it, really. But there’s something you should know.”

His slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, a bruising grip as he forcefully placed your hand onto his muscular chest. An irregular rhythm thumped behind its confines, pulsing against your soaked fingertips. You met his eyes, which carried an uncharacteristic warmth behind them.

“I’m scared too.”

Leon wasn’t lying, he was truly afraid. Afraid that you would run away again and leave him behind. It took him an entire month to finally find you, he risked his job stationing his department’s car on campus everyday just for you. His job meant little to him compared to you, whom he’d grown to desperately care for. Even with his twisted desires, he didn’t want you to be afraid of him. Not like this, at least.

He closed the distance slowly, and you shut your eyes as a pair of lips slotted againsts yours. His lips glided against yours, lubricated from the stream descending upon you two. His hand found purchase on your waist and he pulled you closer, and you shivered– despite the nauseating warmth in the shower– when he ghosted his fingers on the small of your back. Your legs wobbled, weak from his melting kisses and searing touch, and you placed your hands on his chest for stability.

The fight in your body sizzled away, conjoining with the droplets that cascaded down the tips of your hair to fall onto the tiles. They slithered into the drain, never to return. Your lips swelled with anticipation as he smothered you with kiss after kiss, and your cheeks tingled with warmth from the lack of air when your tongues danced in an unruly tango. He was taking your breath away, and your fingers dug into his chest, nails branding red crescents into the flesh of his pecs.

When you broke away for air, strings of saliva hung from your lips to his. His gaze mirrored yours; pupils dilated and clouded with need. His hand dipped south, padded fingers dragging down your navel again when you clutched his wrist. He knitted his brows, confused.

“We shouldn’t do this…” you rasped, uncertainty laced in your voice. “We’re siblings.”

With a weak push, you tried to push his hand away. But he snatched your wrists and pinned them above your head as you gasped. In your tunnel vision, all you could see was the lopsided smirk on his handsome face.

“Siblings?” You jumped when he spread your folds with his digits. His thumb found your clit and he prodded at it with a blunt nail. “We may be siblings on paper, but we both know that we share no blood.”

Leon was right, in reality you were just a woman and he was a man. Strangers who shared nothing but a legal last name. A digit pressed against your tight entrance, and he watched you with a hooded gaze as he slowly slid it in. Your lips parted in a shaky exhale, lashes fluttering and brows knitted. The stretch was intruding, and he had only the first segment of his finger in when you whimpered painfully. He massaged your pearl with his thumb and shushed you with his lips. He soothed the bundle of your nerves in a circular motion as he pushed his finger further into you. Your entire body trembled when he added another finger.

You were falling apart before him, and he was enjoying every second of it. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he watched your expression contort whilst he scissored and fondled your insides with his digits. Your knees were bowed, thighs trembling like a newborn lamb. You bit your lip to quieten your moans. Leon knew how to use his fingers better than you did, and the loud squelching of your wetness was proof of his expertise.

A familiar ache throbbed in you, and you squirmed against his hold while arching your back. Your stepbrother chuckled lowly, hints of pearly white showing as he smiled.

“See? Even if we were actually siblings, your body would still beg for me to make you cum. Just like this.”

His thumb applied just the right amount of pressure onto your clit and you squealed with pleasure. Your thighs pressed together, squeezing the hand between them as your walls fluttered around him. The man released your wrists so that you could cling onto him as you came hard, face buried in his chest as your body jolted against his. When you calmed down, he retrieved his fingers, eliciting a whine from the new emptiness.. He showed you his hand, where an embarrassing amount of cum dribbled down his fingers and knuckles.

“Say ‘ahh’,” he ordered, fingers hovering above your lips. You could smell it before you tasted it; a salty scent clung to your translucent fluid dripping down his appendages. Lips parted, you took his fingers in and suckled on them. With your eyes fixated on him, you blushed from his hum of approval.

“Good girl. C’mon,” he withdrew his fingers and you stared blankly. “Turn around and spread that ass for me.”

You did as you were told, leaning forward and placing a hand on the wall. With condensation smushed against that palm, you used your other hand to hold one cheek to spread yourself open. He swallowed thickly as he pumped himself weakly. His length stood at full height, curving upwards with all his veins popping angrily. His balls throbbed from the sight. You knew how to rile him up without even trying.

Leon’s fingers rested on your puckered hole, making you shiver. You cast him a glance over your shoulder, a begging look– did you not want it there? Shame, maybe next time. You audibly sighed when he lined himself up against your sticky slit, and you placed both hands on the wall to steady yourself, standing on tippy toes as he slowly sheathed himself into you. He drove himself into you slowly, and you unconsciously bent your knees as you were pushed forward.

A low moan filled the bathroom whilst Leon hissed as he clutched your waist. Something trickled down his length and gathered at his base. Something red. A small blob fell and landed on the wet floor before being swept away. He raised his brows.

“Fuck- I’m your first?” He laughed in disbelief as the thin streak of blood split into two. Another droplet fell and you looked down at the tiles too, head still cottony to process anything.

“Don’t worry,” he took your arms and pulled them back. As the blonde forcefully arched your back, he leaned in and smirked against your ear. “Your step bro will show you the ropes in pleasing a man.”

Leon thrusted into you and you gasped from the fullness. Your belly swelled from the depth of his intrusion, and you whimpered as he pounded into you at a steady yet unforgiving pace. His pelvis smashed against your plush rear, and you moaned from the incessant slapping of his balls against your puffy lips. Your eyes were almost lidded, a string of drool snaked down your chin as your insides stroked his dick with a vice grip.

You couldn’t think of anything but the intoxicating fullness within you. Feeling it all was overwhelming; the ridges of his cock, his throbbing veins as they rubbed against your gumminess, and the hot tip of his cock as it kissed your cervix. Your eyes rolled back when he jammed into a particular spot. This was surely heaven– and you mewled against his hold, upper body squirming.

The blonde clenched his jaw, eyes hyper fixated on the pretty jiggle of your ass. He was so close, just a bit more and he’d pour everything out into you. You milked him better than any woman did, and the urge to empty all his worth into you clouded his head despite the blaring of sirens in his cotton filled head. With a grunt, he wrapped his arm around your neck in a chokehold, pulling you back towards him. His chest was flushed against your back as you arched deliciously, the bottom of your spine throbbed in protest as he snapped his hips harder. Gurgled moans were choked out from you as he pistoned into you with the reckless desire to breed.

“‘M gunna cum. Hff- Say you need it. Tell me you want it..!” He babbled as his forearm contracted, tightening his hold on your delicate neck. You feebly clawed at it, broken noises fell from your lips whilst your lips faded from pink blue. When he finally came, he pressed his pelvis flushed against your ass as you leaned into the bathroom wall.

He slathered you with thick ropes of cum, and you whimpered at the strange warmth flooding you. When he pulled out, his cock hung limply between his legs as a streak of white oozed out of you. A bead of cum oozed on his tip, and you weakly clutched the wall with shivering hands.

Your laboured breaths were muted noises in the presence of the incessant hissing of the shower. He turned the damn thing off and after toweling the both of you dry, he led you to bed. Goosebumps crawled along your skin from the cold air, but the warmth from his body pressing you into the mattress comforted you. His arms caged you in on either side while your hands wandered along his muscular chest. Scars littered across body, and each time your fingers traced them, he’d flinch. Your nails ghosted over an aged bullet wound when he pulled away from your face. More strings bridged your lips together.

“So pretty,” he muttered. He nuzzled his face into your chest, voice rumbling against your skin. “All mine.”

“Yeah,” you carded your fingers through his damp hair. Your lashes fluttered sleepily, the strange warmth within you growing as you smiled.

“All yours.”

(BONUS)

“I’m so glad Leon found you.” Mom’s voice echoed in the motel room. It was a voicemail, and if it were a live call, you wouldn’t have your trembling legs over your step brother's broad shoulders. Well, you wouldn’t but he would.

“I was worried sick, my dear. When you return today, I’ll have your favourite meal waiting on the table. Like before-”

You bit the back of your hand, hard enough to draw blood as your toes curled. Your other hand was in the sea of his tousled blonde tresses, fingers gripping his locks as you ground yourself against his face. The tip of his nose bumped against your swollen clit, eliciting a muffled whine.

“Leon,” you panted against your hand, lashes fluttering. “Stop teasing and just put it in already!”

Your thighs squeezed his head together, and he clamped his hands on them to pry your legs further open. The blonde buried his tongue deeper into your weeping cunt, languidly swirling his and your essence together into one. A cry rang in the motel room as your mother’s voice was overlaid by the static buzzing in your ears and his voice.

“Patience is a virtue. Didn’t your mom teach you that?” He chuckled as your thighs twitched in his grasp. He licked a teasing stripe against your slit.

“Don’t bring mom into this,” you frowned, but another lick elicited another squeal. The familiar haze in your head was waiting to consume you, and you let yourself fall victim to it as you gripped his hair again.

When he pulled away, you whimpered pathetically and gazed at him through heavy lashes. Your eyes were clouded with need, and he stroked your cheek with his knuckles with an amused chuckle. He kissed you– and you tasted your stickiness while soothing his swollen lips with your tongue.

“-Anyway, I’ll see you later. I’m so happy you’re finally coming home. See you tonight!” The voice call ended with a beep and you breathed a huge sigh of relief. Your eyes fluttered close, when the mattress dipped as he pushed you onto your back. You opened them blearily to meet his blue eyes, where desire and passion swirled deeply.

“Feeling sleepy? Don’t fall asleep on me now… Cause your step bro is gonna take good care of you.”

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

#resident evil #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #minors dni #minors do not interact #cw: smut #cw: dubcon #cw: noncon #cw: somnophilia #cw: breeding #cw: choking #dead dove do not eat

[weskie]

Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  

So thick, so full… 

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!” 

You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker x you #wesker x reader #wesker x you #resident evil #dead by daylight #dbd #albert wesker smut #wesker smut

[pupcuck]

RIGOR MORTIS !

ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. las plagas!reader, he kills you, technically snuff ig but wasn’t intended oops, gore, canon-typical violence, reader is infected and out of it so she can’t really consent, dub-con, non-con, p in v, choking/asphyxiation, strangulation

note. god im plagued by writers block and it’s killing me it’s like walking on shattered glass rn. umm please ignore any mistakes, not very fond on this but haven’t posted in a bit :3 um it’s quite short. rbs are always appreciated :3 instead of asking for a part 2 please just tell me something nice.. feedback is really appreciated <3 comms are open! info in my pinned :3

Leon seeks refuge in what looks to have once been a humble abode. Now only a shack wearing a shroud of all things dead and rotten remains. Foetid water has soaked him to the bone, it seeps into the thick leather of his combat boots, leaves his socks soggy. He really hates that. Leon can handle cerebrospinal fluid leaving a sticky film on the toe of his boots, the blood caked beneath his fingernails is something he considers normal, but wet socks are a total inconvenience, it’s a shortcut to trench foot.

The hollow skulls of small critters occupy the corners, the cobwebs have cobwebs, the air is stagnant and stinking. Not of rot, but of sickness. A gaping wound crawling with infection, bacteria settling in the crevices of his mind, squirming like fat, juicy maggots—

Crack!

It’s a man, he was a man, now he’s a boneless lump of flesh, his spinal cord snapped under the weight of Leon’s boot. His yellowed teeth glisten under the golden warmth of a single lantern. Leon’s defence is choreographed at this point, a swift kick to intercept an impending strike, then his boot makes mincemeat of their brains.

When he takes a step back to review his current affair, it’s not so bad, certainly not Raccoon City. Leon would take a million murderous Spanish grandparents over a single zombie. Zombies are plain nasty, not a single limb intact, oozing pustules that peel back to reveal purpling flesh infested by larvae. They’re fuckin’ ugly. Slow and bloated and ugly. A sight no human being should see.

On the wall, there’s a shattered, grimy mirror. Leon sees the ghost of a boy staring back at him. Unwashed hair hanging limp, cheekbones carved out, his skin alabaster like the blocky lettering stitched into his uniform. R.P.D. it reads, muddied by blood and guts and chunks of vomit. All the good shit. He hasn’t grown into his body yet, the steel of his gun is cool on his temple and he’s young and these are all important things to know. In his arms is something small and lightweight, a bloodied little girl, leading him to a pyrrhic victory.

The floorboards groan under the weight of a pair of feet that don’t belong to him, the threat isn’t imminent. You don’t charge at him, no, it’s shambling he can only describe as zombie-like, dragging your bare feet like it hurts to lift them off the ground. Like you’re waterlogged and ready to pop.

You were pretty, he’s sure, a real looker. You’re pretty now, just not in your entirety. Strings of reddish muscle keep the fatty flesh of your right tit hanging on for dear life. Like an Amazonian woman. There’s no rot, no sign of decay, simply an act of self-mutilation.

Now, some might call him a pervert, but Leon’s a self-proclaimed iconoclast. And you, swaying from side to side in your torn linen nightdress, the skeletal pendant of Los Iluminados around your neck like a disfigured cross, draped in a veil of white that’s close enough to holy - it’s worth ruining. Santa Maria di Plagas or whatever.

He realises a few shattered bones have you walking funny, circles you easily and heads into the room you exited. The bed sheets are rumpled in unrest, he sits, there’s a hairline fracture between the two of you. The lantern light bares all, the white of your dress becomes gossamer-thin, he makes out your shape beneath the blood-soaked cloth that moulds to the shape of your torso, the smooth dip of your waist, a soft sinkage where the fabric clings to your belly button.

Leon has seen far worse. Can you blame a guy for getting hard at the sight of a real girl? In his line of work, he’s neck deep in pounds of flesh that spew pus and gore from each virus-clogged abscess. The layer of dirt on your skin does not deter him, that tit hanging by a tissuey thread, swinging back and forth like your necklace is child’s play to him. ‘Cause Leon’s a real man. The princely type.

(He’s anything but. One girl’s knight in shining armour is a monster under the bed for another. It’s not like you can complain, you’re quite the monster yourself.)

Hang in there Ashley. He’ll be there soon, but he’s got to do this. This is completely and utterly necessary. Hunnigan doesn’t need to know why he’ll be unreachable for a good thirty minutes or so. Less probably. ‘Cause your body is hot, clammy with fever, and that means your pussy is even hotter.

Something… Something… Plagas… Something… Lord Saddler…

Your mumbling is constant. Leon will have to do something about that. You gnash your teeth at him when you approach, held back only by the sluggishness that comes with, like, brainwashing cultish parasites.

“Sorry, sweetheart, no entiendo.” Leon loops a worn piece of rope around your neck. Ain’t that handy? Found it hung on your assumed-to-be father’s tool belt. Used for leading curly little lambs to the sacrificial altar. He strokes the underside of your chin, and you bare your teeth like a wild dog, albeit slowly. A late reaction. No fair, it’s like someone’s knocked you around already, who got here before him?

Getting his dick out at a time like this in a place like this, it’s not smart. Sneaky bugs could use his urethra as a water slide. A menacing minibeast might latch onto his balls pincher-first. However, needs are needs, and nothing gets in the way of Leon’s dick, not even a kidnapped First Daughter could stop the force of nature that is his boner.

With ease, he pushes you onto the ground. Not the bed. If you behave like an animal then he’ll have to fuck you like one. Plus, Leon’s not quite sure he trusts those sheets, at least the rusty nails on the floorboards are visible to the naked eye. Tetanus won’t be a nasty surprise, just a momentary lapse in judgement.

Your body contorts when he pulls the rope, back taking on a feline shape, spine bending inwards and your hips up. Puppetry is easier than it looks. The hem of your dress lifts to reveal your leaking chasm of a pussy. Better than nothing. Not like he’s eating it either way.

One hand on the rope, the other on his belt buckle, he lowers his jeans enough to pop his dick out. “Stay still, honey.” He instructs, but it’s like talking to a brick wall, or to a person who doesn’t understand a lick of English.

Leon chokes you with the rope. “I’ll only be a minute, sweetheart,” he coos, a tender kiss that he regrets merely seconds later placed on your shoulder.

He grips the base of his cock, the fat tip is red and leaky, precum bubbling like your foaming mouth. Leon’s too hard. His dick is totally upright, the soft curve pointing towards the ceiling, a thumb comes to press down on the tip, using it to guide himself into your pussy.

“Oh, there you go, honey, yeah, there you go.” His hold on the rope loosens, still firm enough to keep you in place, but now at least there’s oxygen flowing to your parasite-addled brain. “You feel that?”

Leon’s dick stretches you to the point of no return. He’s broken you in. Better off him than any of those grotesque old men. You’re a virgin surely, so it’s very considerate of him to fuck you before you die. No one should die a virgin, that’s cruel, it’s inhumane.

You thrash wildly, grunting each time his hips smack into the fat of your ass, he can’t tell if you’re enjoying it— You better be fuckin’ enjoying it. Know how risky this shit is? Fuck, what if you had a mutated cunt or something. Jagged teeth waiting to clamp down on a big fat dick and tear it straight off. He really needs to start thinking with his brain and not his cock. The thing just doesn’t shut up.

When he cums, the rope is tight around the column of your neck— It would be your hair, but he fears it might fall straight from your scalp in nasty, matted clamps. Your body rears like a wild Mustang, he gathers the rope and it wraps around his fingers until your back is flush to his chest and you grasp for something, anything— Eyes rolled so far back he can see the milky whites, and then he gives one last tug to make sure you’re stuck in that state. Mid-orgasm. Eyes in the back of your skull, back arched, pussy dripping with his load. Cute. He wishes rigor mortis set in right now so that you don’t fall slack into a heap of red and white when he lets go.

Leon leaves by barrelling out of a window like a true gentleman, the microscopic shards splinter your skin. He takes that pendant with him, tucks it in his back pocket, could be useful at some point in time.

It’s only when the blood in his veins runs black and viscous does Leon notice something is severely wrong. His blood flow slows to a halt, clots forming in every important artery. Mucousy black sludge leaks from his nose. An intense pain cuts through his senses with deadly precision, a surge of discomfort that has him kneeling over, hands on his knees in a clumsy attempt to steady himself.

His hands clasp around Ada’s neck— The rope. He pulls it tighter and tighter to get closer and closer. Her voice is distorted by the fog that clouds his brain, it creates a hazy barrier, mutes the world around him. A knife lodges in the meaty flesh of his thigh, he topples backwards when her knee makes contact with his groin.

“That bitch gave me crabs.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He brushes her off. “I said, uh, Lord Saddler almighty.” Leon’s heard that enough times to repeat it back to her rather fluently. Nice save.

“Right,” Ada says, unconvinced.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 4: season 7 or taken over

Xisuma slowly blinks at the console logs for the server again. He's very tired; he's been collecting blackstone again, and it's very tiring, collecting blackstone. He's been building a lot of pretty houses, and stocking a lot of shops, and he hasn't had time to look at the console much recently. He probably shouldn't be now, because he's tired, and tired people make mistakes.

He makes a lot of mistakes; he's silly like that. A big derp. It's why he has to be careful, since he's been tired so much lately. He definitely shouldn't have the console open.

It's just, earlier Impulse had a question, since his moss farm kept lagging, and Xisuma thought it would be easy enough to try to find the root cause of. And he did find the root cause of it--Impulse's farm is too fast and his storage simply doesn't keep up with the amount of moss--but there's... some other things...

He blinks again at the dates on the server files. The last edited dates. Slowly, he clicks again on his own player data, and tries to make sense of what he's reading. Files like this, they aren't really meant to be that human-readable. It's--well, it is mostly json, so it's mostly human-readable, actually, but a lot of it is still encrypted, for player safety, which would. Maybe explain what he's looking at? He thinks? He's--well, he does have root access, is the thing, because he's the admin, but he still shouldn't be able to look at any player willy-nilly.

He's a little too much of a derp to be trusted with that. He probably shouldn't even be looking at his data! It's just. That last edited date. Xisuma doesn't edit his own player data. That way lies madness. He's, uh, pretty sure he knows some people who went a little mad doing that. So the fact of the matter is--well, it's not the only file that's been edited recently, he tells himself. Just because it's a lot of memory files that seem to have been edited, as well as access permissions--that's... normal enough for a new season, right?

He's...

He doesn't notice his other self walk up behind him.

"Oh, hey Xisuma. You finished gathering materials for our next build, then?" Evil Xisuma says. All of Xisuma's hairs stand on end.

"I mean, I've gathered enough to get started," Xisuma says.

"Pity. I was really hoping you'd manage to get everything. I thought maybe we'd finish today, but I guess we can't now."

"I--you're right. I'm really sorry."

"No, no, don't worry, don't worry, my friend," Evil Xisuma says. "We probably couldn't have finished today anyway, even if you said you'd try for it."

Xisuma's heart is in his throat. "Sorry, my head's just been. You know how I am. Silly me, forgetting things."

Evil Xisuma shakes his head. "It's awfully lucky I came back this season. Think of all the important things you'd be forgetting without reminders!"

Xisuma looks down and away.

"Gosh, and now you're... playing around in the admin console?"

"Oh!" Xisuma says. "It's, er, nothing really big..."

"Can I see it?"

He barely resists the urge to close out of his player data and hide that's what he'd been looking at. He doesn't know why he wants to hide it. It's not like--well, if Evil Xisuma got mad about it, it would be... right, wouldn't it? Because, well, Xisuma knows full well he shouldn't be looking at or editing his own player data. Editing your own data is the way to madness, and Xisuma, well, he's been so tired lately. He could easily accidentally hit a button. He could easily accidentally hit delete. He has root access, after all.

His heart is in his throat again. He shuffles his feet. "Sure," he says, finally. "I, er, I promise, I wasn't doing anything. I just noticed the last edited date on, uh, files that aren't automatically created by the system? And I thought, gosh, that's weird. I'd only been in there to check on Impulse, really, after he'd had some lag issues. I was just finishing up. It's nothing--the date's weird, though, right? That's all I was noticing."

He watches Evil Xisuma's fingers scroll through all of Xisuma's data. It's not quite fast enough that Xisuma isn't sure he's reading it, and suddenly, Xisuma feels very small.

Finally, Evil Xisuma hands Xisuma's tablet with the admin console open back to him. Xisuma looks down, and Evil Xisuma has closed out of the player data again.

"You just forgot the last maintenance date," Evil Xisuma says.

"Really?" Xisuma says.

"Oh, yeah, for sure. You're so tired lately. You silly derp. You've just been forgetting things easily. You should really get more rest!"

"Oh, but then we won't finish our projects," Xisuma says.

"I guess we wouldn't," Evil Xisuma says back.

"It's just--it's. Most of the time, access permission for player memories isn't edited during maintenance, and I just--I don't remember putting your name down?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

Xisuma tries to think.

"I don't know," he says finally, small, unable to meaningfully articulate anything about what's wrong with it. "I guess it only makes sense, if I'm forgetting things so easily."

"Exactly! Gosh, we make a good team," Evil Xisuma says, and he smiles at Xisuma. Xisuma crookedly smiles back.

"Yeah, we do," Xisuma agrees.

"Don't pull that out again unless I say so, okay?"

"Okay," Xisuma agrees automatically, and then he knows he will not. It makes sense. If he was upsetting himself over nothing like this, why, imagine what he'd do if he could open it whenever? He'd just constantly be upsetting himself!

"Now, my friend, let's return to building the Evil Empire."

"Let's!" agrees Xisuma, and just like that, the entire encounter slips from his mind.

#hermithorrorweek2023 #a bee fic #hermitcraft #xisuma #evil xisuma #emotional abuse #mind manipulation #(like genuine warning for emotional abuse here albeit like. somewhat subtle manipulation type.) #if this fic is late in my time zone. no it isn't. #anyway. i will never stop thinking about. whatever was going on between xisuma and evil xisuma in season 8. #anyway. ANYWAY. god one day i'll write the Very Dead Serious Take on that plotline. maybe this is one piece of it. #anyway the horror here is only barely the implied possession it's more the implied. emotional abuse. #GOD i will not stop thinking about the implications of that storyline whether intended or not #like. i'm forever like. did he INTEND to imply the abuse that so many of those cutscenes imply #or was he just trying to write evil xisuma acting like a villain? #anyway this isn't how i'd write evil x for any season that isn't season eight specifically btw you can blame it on jeff if needed

[alienguts]

White Lies (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Y/N broke her arm fighting Deadites with Ash and they need to come up with a convincing excuse for the doctor.

Warnings: injuries, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of violence and gore

Request?: No, but I feel like it's been an eternity since I wrote an Ash fic

A/N: I'm still trying to find the time to work on an Ash smut fic, so here's something to hold over the thirteen of you who are here for Ash fics

“Have you come up with a story yet?” Ash whispered in Y/N’s ear as his eyes darted around the hospital waiting room.

“I’m just gonna tell them I tripped on a tree root, will you calm down?” she hissed, trying to keep as inconspicuous as she could with a broken arm and muddy clothes. And a boyfriend whose clothes were almost completely covered in blood.

“I am calm,” Ash said, clearly not calm at all. “You’re not calm enough.”

“Ash, my arm has snapped in half, it is taking so much for me to be calm right now because all I want to do is cry.”

Ash opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it back closed again.

He wasn’t always fond of Y/N joining him whenever he needed to get rid of some Deadites, but it was hard for him to say no when she was so insistent on helping him.

The creatures had been hot on their tails the entire night, relentlessly pursuing them through the woods. Ash had given Y/N the boomstick while he fended them off with the chainsaw, but she still needed some practise with it.

She’d managed to get several headshots in, showering the ground with blood and guts as each monster went down in a gory explosion. Ash’s clothes hadn’t fared much better considering he was face to face with the monsters, leading to him being covered head to toe in blood. His shirt had changed from blue to red and muddy brown and clung to his skin as he kicked at the creatures and slashed them in half with the chainsaw.

Things were going well until they ventured into a part of the woods where the undergrowth was thicker, hiding the tree roots. Y/N kept moving backwards as carefully as she could, taking shots whenever she could and trying to keep her balance. Ash followed close behind, using the chainsaw to clear away any shrubbery in his way after the final Deadite had been slain.

“Y/N, keep going ahead,” he called to her. “I got the last of ‘em!”

Y/N turned to face towards the end of the woods, only for her foot to snag on a root and send her crashing to the ground. 

First she heard a sickening snap underneath her. Then came the pain.

Y/N had experienced many injuries in the times she and Ash had been fighting Deadites together, but this may have been the first broken limb she’d suffered. She’d always expected to be hurt by a Deadite, not her own stupid feet. An inhuman cry forced itself out of her lungs when the pain registered, making Ash hurry over to her.

“What happened?” he asked, panicked. “Did one of them get you?”

“I think my arm’s broken,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. 

“C’mon, we need to get you home,” he said as he stooped down to pick her up. The chainsaw was no longer running but he was still careful to keep it away from her.

“No, I need a hospital,” Y/N countered.

She’d become well acquainted with how much Ash did not like medical things at all, especially since he didn’t have insurance and was likely to be thrown into a mental facility if he was honest with a doctor. She felt him falter as soon as the word ‘hospital’ left her mouth.

“Baby, you don’t need a hospital,” he said haltingly. “I could treat this at home for you.”

She used her good arm to grab onto his shirt and pull his attention back to her.

“Ash,” she said firmly. “I can feel the bone almost sticking out of my arm. I need to see a doctor.”

And so, Ash took Y/N to the emergency room and endured every single odd look given to him by nurses and other patients. He must have explained five times that no he was fine, it was his girlfriend who needed to see a doctor. His bloody clothes and her muddy clothes didn’t exactly help when they were both sitting in the ER.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked softly as he stroked his thumb across her free hand.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of used to the pain now,” Y/N said, exhausted from everything that happened that night.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, sweetheart,” he said and turned in his seat to face her. “It’s my fault that this happened.”

Y/N sighed and twined her fingers with Ash’s.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I insisted on coming with you and I was the one who tripped on a stupid root.”

“Yeah, but I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Ash, we’re both adults so we’re both responsible. And besides, it’s just a broken arm. It could have been a lot worse.”

“I know but I feel like-”

He didn’t get to finish his thought when the doctor called Y/N through to the examination room.

After an unnecessary x-ray to confirm that her arm was indeed broken, Y/N was given a thick cast and a very necessary bag of painkillers before being sent on her way. She’d given exactly the excuse she’d planned on - I tripped on a tree root - but Ash didn’t have an answer for why he was soaked in blood.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he’d said when the doctor asked what happened, cutting off the conversation immediately.

By the time they got back to the car, the sun was already starting to rise, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. Ash was still wide awake, but just one glance at Y/N told him how exhausted she was. Her clothes were dishevelled, her hair sticking up everywhere, her eyes red and puffy, and she shuffled her feet with every step.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” Ash asked as he unlocked the car.

“Sore. Tired. Grumpy,” Y/N said, her words slurring together. “I just wanna go to bed.”

“You and me both.” 

Ash opened the passenger door for her and helped her into the seat before fastening her seat belt and closing the door again. By the time he’d gotten behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition she was already falling asleep. He’d planned on helping her clean up once they’d got home, but it looked like he would just have to shower alone while she slept. He smiled to himself and reached over the seat to gently stroke her face.

“You and me put up with some shit, huh, kid?” he said softly, not expecting her to answer before driving them home.

#ash williams x reader #ash williams x you #ash williams imagine #ash williams fluff #evil dead x reader #evil dead x you #evil dead imagine #evil dead fic #fluff #female reader #*my writing

[cherubify]

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA / LEON KENNEDY

6.1k words

cw: corruption, stalking, doppelganger themes, dirty talk, attempted sa, dubcon, hints of mindbreak/exhibitionism/overstimulation, fingering, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, use of pet names, fellatio, filming, dead dove do not eat, minors dni

a/n: this was written for an anonie's reqqy! it marinated in my wips for a few weeks (mb!) so it feels kinda off to me + i kept changing the title but.. yeah! n special thanks to my trusted beta reader @xoxostarlet!! <3 ok i'll shut up now but enjoy!

There’s a saying out there– something about how there are more than seven people in the world who share the same face as you. Despite possibly living in a distant community, with a foreign tongue and having one’s own idiosyncrasies, there’s someone out there who resembles you. A doppelganger, is what most people called it, right? Leon hasn’t met anyone who looks like him yet, though he’s heard passersby comment on how he looked like a model whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

It must be a prank pulled by the heavens when they created people, forgetting to register their creations as solely unique individuals and reusing their faces for a recycled project. At least, that’s what he thinks when he finds yet another film, with its poster girl bearing a striking resemblance to the store clerk. A knowing smile crept up his face as he strolled over to the front desk.

You sat behind a long counter, homework precariously piled up as you scribbled your answers onto the papers. A cash register and your laptop accompanied you on your side. He set his selection of the day beside your papers, prompting you to look up.

“This one again? You borrowed it last week, Mr Kennedy,” you commented with a shaky laugh.

The man on the other side of the counter was an older man with a face and body of strong and hard corners everywhere. He was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, the hood draped over his side swept dirty blonde hair. Leon was what he told you to call him, but the desire to maintain personal distance led you to calling him by his family name instead.

“What can I say? It’s a good way to kick my feet up.” His arms were folded on the counter as he leaned towards you.

You snorted inwardly. Yeah, kicking your feet up by getting off to these… morbid tapes, huh? You read the summary of all the films he rented before. They were about dark things you’d never want to be involved in. Random films centred around dark plots, such as Stockholm syndrome, hardcore BDSM and the like. Perfect for twisted people with twisted fantasies. But not for you, you were proud to say you lived a mostly peaceful and non traumatised life, and you would keep it that way.

It’s not that you wanted to kink shame; people could watch whatever they wanted. But having to rent out these tapes to a shameless guy like him was uncomfortable. And he was making you feel even more uncomfortable when he waltzed up to the counter, showing you his findings of the day. What a weirdo. At least act a little embarrassed like the other customers, wouldn’t you?

However, you shoved down your grievances and processed his purchase on the register. Once you finished, you passed both the film and a receipt to him. He took it from your grasp, warm fingers brushing against yours. You immediately withdrew your hand and discreetly rubbed your skin raw against your jeans.

Nothing went unnoticed by him, including your poorly hidden disgust. His lips curled on his face, he knew what you were thinking– most people didn’t relax by renting adult films. If only you knew his true intentions. Why he chose this specific film to rent again.

You jabbed the back of the store with your thumb, attention returning to your homework. Beside the staff room and a tiny toilet, there was another door that led to a room: the viewing room. He entered, closing the door behind him softly. It was furnished the same as always: a family sized couch with cushions. No windows or lights, just a single projector, a screen and speakers. A viewing room to watch the store’s rented shows and only that.

Not that he couldn’t view it at home, but he wanted to do it here. In this room, in the back of a store you had no choice but to man alone. He knew the sounds leaked into the hall and into the sales floor. And the actress in this film had impressively exaggerated moans. Which was why he liked this certain film. He knew your face would be distorted with horror as you struggled to put up with it for the next hour. Plus the second hand embarrassment you experienced when other customers entered (not that there were many to begin with).

He chuckled softly whilst setting up the screening. When it began to play, he slumped onto the couch, arms crossed. He knew you noticed the resemblance you shared with the poster girl. Knew the uneasy glances you’d send him whenever you caught him browsing through the adult film section. It was fun pushing your buttons– seeing your innocent face distort with horror, embarrassment, shame whenever you scanned the films he chose. You certainly noticed the increasing resemblance of all the actresses to you. It was clear as day from the tautness in your smile as you forced out a polite ‘thank you’ when he returned the goods.

He tried to focus on the actress on the screen. A girl who shared the same hair colour and clothing style as you. There were some similarities in your faces, but only as far as the curve of your jaw and the curl of your lips. A mismatch in voice, sure, but when the woman on the screen moaned, he wondered if you replicated such a sound. The thought made him swell a little in his sweats. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Like the girl on screen, he wanted to bend you over a kitchen table as you wore nothing but a frilly apron and underwear. He’d rip your panties off and bury his face between your perfect butt and-

A knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. He paused the show and it creaked open to reveal you, standing hesitantly. Your eyes shifted from him to the screen, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. You tried to hide the way your eyes flitted from the screen to him. The same old expression on your face as your bottom lip quivered.

“Um… I can hear everything,” you told him- and he knew, but he listened anyway, “It’ll bother the customers, so please keep it down.”

Or go home. He knew those words were on the tip of your tongue. There were no other customers around (probably) but he smiled anyway and complied, just because you asked nicely. He jabbed the volume button once.

“Sure, but maybe a kiss would convince me, darling.” He called out, but you barely heard it over the creaking of the door as you closed it.

Always running away before he could shoot his shot. Like a game of mouse and cat, a fitting analogy considering how you’d tremble in his presence and flee with your metaphorical tail between your legs. He chuckled and resumed the film, the volume a single decibel lower while you sat at the counter, shaking your head.

In your eyes, Leon was a bit of a troublemaker. You weren’t naive enough to be fooled by his clueless facade. You knew that he got a kick out of the distress he put you in when he played his fine selection for the day. He could go home instead– in fact, you had a right to kick him out. But your boss instructed you to be kind to regulars, such as Mr Kennedy here. So what more could you do besides put on your customer service smile and voice? After all, customers were always right. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the amount of trouble he gave you by entering the store. If he pushed any further you were sure to blacklist him from the store for good.

When he came out, you watched hopefully. Hoping that he’d walk out of the door. But then he began searching through the aisles and before you knew it, he set another box onto the counter again. An adult film with its poster girl sitting on a couch sultrily, her hair colour and hair parted the way you did yours. Last time his choice was a girl with the same fashion sense as you. All of his selections consisted of girls that took after you. Quite the strange coincidences, but you chalked it up to just you having run-of-the-mill features.

“Come again,” you grimaced inwardly. You hoped he wouldn't, but when he left he cast you a knowing smile over your shoulder. You groaned aloud, because you knew he would.

You worked at the rental video shop temporarily, home from college for summer break when your pockets were emptier than you recalled. This store was an easy choice, simply because it was right across your apartment complex. The close proximity meant you could just tumble out of bed in the morning and clock in with your pjs. The owner was a decrepit man who was out of town half the time, so he couldn’t be bothered with what was happening except meeting the bare sales requirements.

Retail life was no stranger, but this was the most relaxing it had ever been in your job history. It was a joy working in this store, believe it or not. Truly a pity it was only temporary. No naggy managers or bossy coworkers. Just you and the occasional customer wandering among dusty aisles. Speaking of dust…

You checked the time– a few minutes left before closing. It took a mere second to find Leon, whose blonde’s head peaked above a low row of shelves. You guessed he was sifting through another peculiar genre. So you left him to it as you entered the back and into the staff room. Unbeknownst to you, the front door jingled as someone stepped onto the sales floor.

When you finally returned, you were armed with a step ladder and a duster, the latter missing more than half of its feathers. Despite its haggard appearance, it was clearly not being put to use, apparent from the store’s dust infested furniture. Perhaps the store’s sorry state was a contributory factor for the lack of visitors. You set the ladder down at the front of the store and began dusting from top to bottom.

A cough alerted Leon’s attention to you and he peeked up from the boxes in his hands. You stood precariously on the top, a hand clutched over your nose as you dusted a shelf. From where he stood, he could see cotton peeking from your loose shorts. He set the goods down to grip either side of the ladder’s frame.

“I don’t think this rickety thing’s stable enough for you to use, sweetheart,” he commented, prompting you to look at him. “You should come down before you fall.”

“I’m fine, Mr Kennedy. I’ve got everything under control,” you began cleaning again when you inhaled some dust. Your eyebrows furrowed, then your face crinkled as you sneezed. And ironically you fell. A shout and a thud followed, and you found yourself in his arms.

He had an awkward grip on you, having caught you suddenly with open arms. His arm was wrapped around your thighs and the space below your shoulder blades. The vice grip on the fat of your thighs caused your face to explode with red.

“Oh my god- I’m sorry!” You gasped as you wriggled in his arms, begging to be put down. He yielded and you were onto your feet again. You backed away from him, hands clasped apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you- are you okay?”

He laughed, and it’s an airy, low sound. The regular crossed his arms and leaned against the ladder. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Y-Yeah. But I guess I should throw this out,” you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.

“Let me,” he offered and he swiftly walked out with it in tow. The entrance jingled before closing behind him as he disappeared.

You rubbed your arms awkwardly, the heat from your face dissipating as you exhaled shakily. Maybe you were wrong about him. Leon was quite a nice guy. Now, if it weren’t for his weird fetishes, maybe you’d give him a chance. You shook your head. What were you thinking? He was just a customer. You sighed and picked up your fallen duster.

You turned your back to an approaching man. Footsteps behind you prompted you to look up, and you expected a blonde but was mistaken. Your face was shoved against a shelf, the old thing creaked as it leaned back then back onto its corners. Your wrists were held behind you by a gloved hand, and you strained to see the perpetrator but the grip on the back of your head prevented you.

“Just stay quiet and it’ll be over soon,” it was a hushed voice, unfamiliar and muffled. “–be a good girl and stay still.”

“Who are you calling a good girl?” You gritted your teeth and struggled against your captor’s hold. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll-”

“Uh uh–” something cold pressed against your neck. Was that… a knife? “–It’d be better if you don’t struggle.”

You froze as the blade dug into the column of your throat. The stranger released your wrists to wander a gloved hand along the curve of your spine. It hurt to swallow, and you struggled to breathe as the molestor’s hand dipped into your shorts. Was this how your summer break would end? An assault in the store you part-timed in for quick cash?

Your train of thought was derailed when a grunt echoed in the store. The blade was withdrawn and clattered onto the floor, and you whirled around to find a masked man collapsed on the floor. Standing behind him was Leon, who swiftly pocketed a gun into a holster on his belt. You gaped at him– has he always carried that on him?

“Are you okay?” Leon stepped over the body to grip your shoulders. His wide eyes scrutinised your smaller frame. “Did he hurt you?”

You looked at his hands then at him, “I… I think I’m alright.”

The man frowned and studied the unconscious man with a hardened expression. He dialled for the cops and filed a brief report. Afterwards, he dragged the molester outside the store, where he tied his wrists to a lamp post. The man was limp throughout, unconscious from whatever Leon had pulled. You clutched your arms as you sat at the cash register, eyes fixated on the counter.

A first aid kit came into view. Leon stood on the other side, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I found this in the back,” he said softly, digging through it. He produced a disinfectant wipe and a bandaid.

Only when he reached out to you did you notice the wound on your neck. It stung, and you gingerly touched it. Beads of blood sat on your finger. It was a little cut that had bled into the collar of your top. He dabbed the swab of disinfectant against the wound, and you hissed. His hand found yours, and he held it as you squirmed in your seat.

“It’ll sting for a bit, but better safe than sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m not a wuss, I can take it- Ow!” You jumped in your seat when he pushed the swab deeper against the cut. The two of you exchanged a look, and the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, lips pursed.

Then he placed a bandaid over the wound and his fingers ghosted over it. “There. All better,” he sighed.

He withdrew his hand except the one in yours. You ogled at the larger hand in yours, at the way his slender fingers were comfortably interlaced with your shaky ones. Just like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly slotted into one another. You tried to banish the thought. You exhaled softly, and you squeezed your trembling lips together into a feeble smile.

“Thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back. In that moment, he was all you could see. Not the arrival of the police car outside the store or the officers standing by the criminal, but just him.

A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “So I take it you’re dropping the formalities?”

The blonde was referencing how you always called him by his family name and not his first name. You refused to answer, the faint blush on your cheeks sufficed. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back.

Leon accompanied you for the rest of the night. He stayed beside you in the police station, drove you back to the store and assisted you in the cleaning duties. Despite the incident, life moved on, and you were responsible for the night duty chores as the sole employee. Areas unaccessible by you were managed by him, and you found yourself appreciating his company. Although he was a creepy regular, he was quite sweet. You didn’t have to force yourself to laugh at his crappy jokes that night.

And though you were pretty sure he shouldn’t know where you lived, you let him accompany you to your doorstep after closing shift. He bid you goodbye with a gentle pat on your head, and you found yourself staring at the place he stood for a while. You sat in your bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest. Water enveloped your body in the cold of midnight, and you leaned your head against the cool tiles. Your eyes were glazed over with tears as you recounted the recent events.

Thank goodness he was there. If Leon hadn’t been there, something terrible would’ve happened. You wanted to see him again. Maybe you’d give him a thank you gift. It’d be only fair, right?

. . .

“What’s business like this week?” He enquired as you scanned the good in your hand. This time he came in with a different colour of sweats, with a stain on the hem of his blue sweater.

It had been a while since you last saw him. Maybe a week since that night.

“Slow,” you sighed, returning the film to him. The colours on the box’s cover were washed out, and the actress was a blurry blob of colours. Her hair colour and body type matched yours, but that was all you could make out. So you chose to close an eye. “My boss is gonna be so mad about the sales.”

“My bad. If it weren’t for work, I’d be here more often,” the blonde commented.

“You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?” You teased, to which he placed a hand over his heart.

“You don’t know half of it, sweetheart.” Your cheeks tingled at the pet name. Wait– what? “The higher ups owe me more breaks.”

You cleared your throat. “Even if you did, don’t you have better places to be?”

“I’d say you make good company,” he grinned boyishly. Your heart fluttered a little. Wow, what was seriously happening to you?

“Anyways-” He tilted the film in his hand, “-wanna watch this together?”

Fat chance. Just because he was growing on you didn’t mean you were ready to sit in a tiny room with him on a couch, just the two of you in the dark. You’d tell him that, but he read your expression independently and laughed. When he disappeared into the viewing room, your attention turned to the register’s screen where an alert had popped up.

Invalid barcode. Please contact staff.

Huh? You copied the barcode number and manually entered it into the system. The same system popup appeared and you scratched your head, confused. Muffled noises leaked into the sales floor and you stepped away from the counter. Maybe he took a show that failed to register in the system?

You stood outside the door and listened. Was now a good time to enter? You hesitated and held the door knob. A soft moan stopped you in your tracks– followed by a whimper and some incoherent noises.

Weird. For a second there it almost sounded like you. Was the actress a sound-alike too?

You finally opened the door, peaking into the room as the door creaked ajar. It was dark as you expected, just the singular beam of light from the projector that shone onto the screen. Strange enough, you found no one on the couch, only a rolling film on screen. Your dilated pupils shifted to the screen, and you practically swung the door open.

A girl– no, it was you. You were on screen. Laying on bed with a fluffy towel crumpled beside you as your body glistened with droplets, courtesy of your bath. A bead of sweat trailed down your nape, dumbfounded as the you from that night had her fingers buried between her trembling legs. Your face was contorted with pleasure, and you bit the back of your hand to stifle your delighted noises.

How? This couldn’t be happening. You wanted to assure yourself that it was fake, but even you knew there was no denying its authenticity. The camera was shaky, and you scrunched up your brows. The angle… you recognised the angle. You were being filmed from your bedroom windows.

The scene abruptly cut to another one, this time it was of you in your bedroom, standing naked before your mirror. Your hands traced your silhouette, hands wandering down your naked body as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Sleepwear and underwear were gathered haphazardly in a pile behind you. A matching set of underwear on your bed.

It felt like a giant ball of cotton was shoved into your mouth; you swallowed dryly. Your feet moved and you stood behind the couch, your knees feeling like they may give out at any moment. This was last week. How did such a creep go unnoticed by you? Who was filming you? And how did all these get into the store? And– You searched the room frantically. Where was Leon?

The door creaked closed, and you found the devil himself blocking the way out. Another clip played on screen, and you pried your eyes from him to look back at it in horror.

“Nicely edited, don’t you think?” His sneakers thumped against the carpet softly. He stood behind you, arms trapping you against the couch from behind. You flinched at the warm breath that fanned your ear. His fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“I think I deserve a round of applause for it.”

“L-Leon…” your voice cracked. You should be screaming and pushing him off, like you did before with that man. This was a similar situation, right? So why was your heart hammering in your chest like this?

“What is it, sweetheart?”

His voice was a low murmur against your ear, and you shivered. His voice sounded like it was literally in your head, reverberating in the cavern of your mind. Your breath hitched as a warm hand slid under your shirt.

He unclasped your bra with ease, and his hands slid under it to gently cup the curves of your chest. His hands engulfed them easily, and he fondled them half-heartedly while pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck. His lips grazed over the scabbed wound, and you gripped the couch to stabilise yourself.

You should hate it, but your voice failed to protest when he led you to the couch to lay down. He bundled the hem of your top into your mouth, muffling your squeaks when he slipped his hands underneath your loose bra to run his fingers along the circumference of your areola. His thumbs prodded at your nipples, and you squirmed a little at the tingling sensations running along your chest. He pushed your bra aside and flicked his tongue against one of your nipples. Your fingers gripped the blonde’s tresses whilst he teased your perky buds with his warm tongue, lapping at them painfully slowly.

Leon’s other hand traced down your body until he reached your bottoms. He tugged it off your legs, throwing it behind his shoulder. His fingers wandered to the gusset of your panties where a damp patch had formed. The regular stroked your slit through the thin cloth, and you whimpered softly at his ministrations. All the while his eyes were fixated on you, never looking away as he licked your chest like a starving pup begging for milk.

He pulled your panties aside to squeeze a finger into your tightness, and your gaze shifted to where he was connected to you. A finger disappeared into you, and you squeezed your thighs in disapproval as he tried to fit another. Not that it could stop him when he forced into you one more, and you trembled at the stretch from his digits. The blonde wrapped his tongue around one of the swollen buds on your chest, his free hand pinching and tugging on the other.

“Mhnn,” you hummed softly. Moisture clung to your lashes.The intensity in his baby blues beckoned you into the brink of your sanity, and you threw your head back to guard yourself against his tempting call.

“Don’t be shy,” he withdrew from your chest with a pop. He tugged your top out of your mouth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Moan for me.”

His padded fingers prodded inside you experimentally , and a certain spot elicited an embarrassingly loud mewl. The blonde grinned boyishly as he fingered that gummy spot, jamming into it harder and deeper with each cry he drew out of you. Biting the back of your hand, your lashes fluttered unsteadily as you twisted and turned, a strange feeling pulsating deep within you. Your hand found purchase in his hair again, tugging on his silky strands in a silent plea. Whether to stop or for more, only god knew.

But then he stopped, and the heat from his body dissipated. You opened your eyes to see the man shed his sweater, pulling the navy blue article over his scarred body. With a shaky hand, you placed your hand over a scar on his chest and traced the protruding tissue. You frowned- what he had gone through to amass the plethora of scars before you?

The jingling of his belt tore your attention back to his torso. He tugged his pants down to reveal the bulging outline of his hard-on through his boxers. You didn’t mean to stare, but you struggled to tear your eyes away and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He carded his bangs with his fingers, pushing them back as he smirked.

“Like what you see? ‘Cuz my eyes are up here.”

Your ears were hot, and you held your breath as he pressed a kiss to your knee. Then he kissed the inside of your thighs until he reached your clothed core, to the drenched gusset of your panties. His lips quirk up in a pleased smirk, and he kissed it before tugging your panties off. It landed atop your long forgotten bottoms, and he swept them off the couch and they crumpled onto the floor.

He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you underneath him. But for some reason you weren’t scared, no, your heart pounded in anticipation when he leaned in. Maybe you wanted this all along, and you stared into his deep blue eyes when fists suddenly pounded on the door. The thuds echoed in the viewing room, and the both of you jumped.

“Excuse me? Hello…? Is anyone around?”

Your eyes flitted to the door and at the knob as it jingled. But Leon had locked it earlier- thank god- and the customer repeated their question once more. You hesitated before opening your mouth, but he clamped his hand over your lips. You shot him a look, but he answered you with a deep kiss. His plush lips tangled with yours, biting and gnawing on the softness of your own. His kiss was like the ocean, an uncharted wonder that submerged you deeper and deeper with each press of his lips against yours. No thoughts resided in your head, all you could think about was him and his warmth.

Meanwhile, he pushed the back of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. The weight of his upper body sandwiched them to your swollen chest, and he ran a finger between your sticky folds before finally slipping in.

He growled against the corner of your lips, and your nails wandered along his back. Pink crescents glowed red as you dug your nails under his shoulder blades, and you whimpered softly. The stretch hurt more than it did with his fingers. He shushed your cries with saliva stained kisses along the corners of your mouth. A sweet haze swirled in your mind, muffling the knocking on the door in favour of the groans from the man sandwiching you to the couch.

“Fuck-” he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. He was finally hilted within you. His hips stuttered and he struggled to unsheathe himself. He mumbled something into your skin, a hand gripping the back of your knees for support. He withdrew until there was only the tip left, then he slowly filled you up again. Over and over, he plunged deep and slow, drawing pretty moans from you. Soft plapping noises filled the room, a sound barely registered by you in your haze.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” the blonde murmured, his grip on your knees bruising. Strings of drool dribbled down your chin as you laid there limply for him to use. He weakly slapped your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Look at you. Too drunk on my cock to think.”

Leon chuckled lowly, and you squealed when he slapped your clit. You clenched him harder, and he cursed as you throbbed around him. The veins running along his length pulsated angrily against your gummy confines, and he grabbed your chin to peer into your clouded eyes.

“You’re practically begging me to cum inside, sweetheart. You’d like that, yeah? Mhn… I know you would. Such a dirty slut. All mine.”

He dragged his tongue along the outline of your jaw, and you met his tongue with yours in an open mouthed kiss. His name was a broken song, rising in pitch as an overwhelming sensation escalated with each press of his pelvis against your clit. When you finally broke, you cried out in desperation and you came hard around him. He fucked you through your high, uncaring about the overstimulation racking your body as you convulsed underneath him. His pleasure would become yours, whether you liked it or not. When the thread in his abdomen finally snapped, he stuffed himself to the base and emptied his spent into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, lulling you into sleep when his voice tugged you awake. He stood beside the couch, phone in hand. A sleazy grin played on his swollen lips.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”

You blearily raised a peace sign, the hem of your top between your teeth, bra hanging loosely. Uncaring of the cum and sweat all over your body, you managed a timid smile as the camera flashed. He snapped a photo and sunk into the seat beside you. A commemoration for today, and a little something for him (and you, if you’d like him to send it to you) to remember it.

You crawled over, nestling your head on his chest as your eyelids drooped close. Would your body suffice as a thank you for saving you that day? You hoped he’d ask for more. You nuzzled into the warmth of his chest.

Meanwhile, Leon inspected the pixelated photo. He was deeply pleased with his work, and he kissed the top of your head. You were slipping into a plane of unconsciousness, and he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

. . .

“Use your tongue,” He whispered. The heavy hand on your head stroked your hair tenderly, and you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. He laid on his back, on the couch as you knelt between his spread legs.

The projector had long stopped rolling its film, and a single beam of white light illuminated the viewing room. Who knew how much time had passed. All that mattered was pleasing him, so that you could earn his smile, and if you were lucky, his attention.

He clenched his teeth as your canines grazed his pulsing veins. You licked his tip apologetically, earning a low chuckle from him. Your stomach fluttered at the sound, and you closed your eyes as you continued nursing him with your tongue.

“That’s it,” he hissed. He tightened his grip on his phone, and his screen reflected you in it. A red icon incessantly blinked in the upper corner of the screen. In the darkness, a smile snuck onto his face, “Show me what that mouth can do.”

(BONUS)

A month. That was all the rest days he had accumulated after slaving away as the government’s killing machine for the past year. It was non negotiable, so he was going to make the best out of it- and he planned to burn through cheap booze and rewatching classics.

So Leon found himself in a rental video store, a bag in his calloused grip clunking with cans of cold beer, condensation clinging to the insides of the cheap plastic bag. He wandered along the aisles as an old fan nailed to the ceiling rotated in semicircles. The blades whirred at snail's pace, practically useless as even the dust sitting on top of the shelves barely flinched. Sun rays filtered in from the space between the top of the shelves and the glass walls. White light from the rows of blinking LED lights above lit up the dinghy shop. The store was quiet and unmanned, and as he stood at the counter, eyes searching for the clerk, the bell hanging above the door chimed as it swung open.

A young woman, he raised a curious brow- why was she working in a place like this? You were dressed in skimpy pyjamas when you burst in. Your hair was barely tied up, face bare skinned and lips cracking. You licked them nervously when your eyes fell on him- and he stared expectantly at you.

“I’m so sorry!” You cried as you scrambled to the other side of the counter. “I had to leave the store unattended for a moment- Please don’t tell my boss.”

Fumbling, you tapped buttons onto the register. Something must have gone wrong, because you cursed under your breath. Then you pushed your hair out of your eyes to meet his.

“I just got here,” he lied. He had waited for a while, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and at the clock with frozen hands. He was about to walk out without the tapes, even. But your frantic expression proved to be an amusing display, and he found himself smiling politely. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you so much.” You heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. You scanned his selections when your brows perked up, “Titanic? Didn’t know we had this.”

“Aren’t you working here?” Leon teased, and your cheeks flushed. Cute. He leaned in subconsciously as you flustered.

“W-Well, it’s my second day. I still don’t know where most things go- But I know we have classics and plenty of other… stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He laughed, and it was an airy one that deepened your blush.

You cleared your throat and swatted the air beside you, “You know, adult films and all. The geezer that owns this store has quite the collection.” You gestured at the back with your hand.

“Come back and take a looksie when you’re free, mister. It’ll be of great help. Y’know, for our sales,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said as he took the goods from you. He offered a friendly smile, and you smiled back. Really cute, he figured. So he promised to return.

He kept his word and returned after a single day. How could he not when you bid him goodbye, all smiles and giddy with gratitude. Did this job mean that much to you? He decided he’d spend some of his time watching more films then, since what else could he possibly do besides bar hopping for skirts and getting blacked out drunk at home? Plus, it was ridiculously cheap to rent these films, an actual steal.

As he wandered in the back, his eyes fell on a strange box with a cursive font. His curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up and stared at the model in the front. A woman with the same hair colour as you, the sole worker in this drab store. A knowing smile crept onto Leon’s face.

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

#resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fic #resident evil fanfic #cw: dubcon #cw: stalker #cw: smut #cw: corruption #cw: mindbreak #mdni #minors do not interact #dead dove do not eat #minors dni

[gilfkitty]

Where You Belong (18+ drabble)

ft. real dad Leon x fem! reader

WARNINGS!! - daddy-daughter incest, pussy slapping, anal as punishment, no prep, cum denial, dub-con 𓃹

just testing the waters with this :)

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Dad please..m’ sorry…” you cry. But it’s no use, he continues to deliver harsh slaps to your cunt, not caring about the kicking of your legs or your snotty nose from your crying. He was furious with you.

Daddy didn’t raise you to be a slut. You were always such a good girl, always made him proud. Then out of nowhere you decide to act out, giving yourself away to some dumbass boy who didn’t even know how to please you. Not like he did.

He made you, knows you like the back of his hand and he’s been there from the start. You shouldn’t need anyone else. Not when he’s always there to satisfy you the way you deeply crave.

“Was it worth it?” he asks, his palm still steadily smacking against your swollen heat. “Didn’t even make you cum, did he?”

“no daddy…”

“Good.” he replies, “Bad girls don’t get that privilege.” His fingers dip into your tight entrance, sloppily fucking in and out of you and drawing out your needy moans. You struggle to hold still as his hands move at an ungodly pace. You grip onto his worn out jeans, mewling lewdly into his pant leg as you near your climax. It never took long with him, he knew all your weaknesses.

Just as you’re about to finish, his hand withdrawals. This is what you deserved for giving away his pussy like it was some kind of prize.

He flips you onto your stomach, instead of being bent over his knee, you’re now bent over the front of the couch. He gives no preparation, absolutely no warning as he sinks straight into your ass.

“Don’t fuckin’ give me that look princess,” he growls, bullying his fat cock into your deepest parts. “Ya’ asked for this.”

His thrusts are harsh and sudden, pulling almost fully out and shoving back in repeatedly to make you clench. Your pussy aches for him, but like he said, bad girls don’t get that privilege. You have to earn it.

“I’m sorry..” you sob again, hoping for him to ease up even just a little.

He doesn’t. Only goes harder on you. “Shut the hell up and take it.”

“Wouldn’t have to be so harsh if you’d listen.”

He was right, you should’ve just stayed home. Dad knows best as he always says, especially when it comes to you and your antics.

You give in to your punishment, ceasing your struggling and pleading and just taking it as told, ignoring all the discomfort. You lay still against the couch cushions, just letting him finish teaching you your lesson.

He cums inside your quivering ass, throbbing and pulsing inside you for a bit before pulling out completely. It floods down to your cunt, painting a pretty picture for him. Even if he was mad at you, couldn’t deny his little girl was the prettiest in the world.

Makes him feel bad for treating you so lowly. Still, he knew he had to get the point across. Punishment was hard on the both of you.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #tw dark content #leon s kennedy #leon smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #older leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #dead dove do not eat #tw.incest

[alicerosejensen]

Mistake

Warning: death of the reader; indirect mention of Leon's infidelity.

This is a re-posting since my account was blocked on the same day I posted this.

It was a mistake to let you go alone. It was a mistake to believe that a stupid trip would end well and you would return to his house unharmed. And that was his mistake.

Leon holds you in his arms and the noble ladies from the old portraits look disapprovingly at the one he dared to save. You can feel his firm grip on your hip and under your armpit as he carries you to the evacuation site with a pale, cold-blooded face down which tears are flowing. What should he feel besides the searing pain in his chest from just your bloody appearance? Through the veil you hear his strangled wheeze and quiet orders not to dare to die. His fingers dig deeper into your once tender skin when you feel the cool breeze blowing under your dirty white shirt, the only thing left for you besides underwear. The hair was tangled because of blood and dirt, but for Leon it was all so unimportant. He kept carrying you to save you, promising himself that you wouldn't die.

Not having the strength to scream, you would like to regret your last stupid quarrel because of which you left him because of the influx of stupid jealousy. But you just didn't have the strength to go back to your sad life anymore. Leon's jacket still warmed your body, but the stopped heart suggested that you left this world plunging into a dark space, black as the night itself, thickened in the sky where there is no longer any heat, heat, pain or abyss.

It's a nice strange feeling when death enchants you.

And now you are like a fallen petal of a rare flower, floating between the seasons. If either of you understood each other well, you and Leon would never have parted. But when Leon, after a few shouts of your name, squeezes you in his arms, he realizes that you have gone limp… his heart stops.

You left him alone. Sad and lonely.

"Don't you dare die!" Leon is screaming out of breath, trying to get your heart to beat again. As if, having heard him somewhere from the outside, you felt such pity for him. He put so much effort into finding and saving you. All the last few months of imprisonment were like a requiem before a fateful finale without a happy ending. Leon hugs you to his chest, trying to share his warmth; kisses your thin wrists and dirty face to return to your embrace and kind love. This feeling of hopelessness in his chest was never like what he experienced when Simmons attacked Ada.

He realized that he had lost you.

"Sweetheart" Leon tucked his blood-soaked hair behind his ear. Your hand is in his. Sticky and cold where the wrist does not feel the pulse. "forgive me..."

It was your ticket to hell. With all these terrifying bloody rides for a stupid girl who knows how to hold a gun, just because at the beginning of the relationship Leon took the liberty of taking you to the shooting range. No physical or psychological training. Even if you hadn't died, your brain would have turned into a recurring nightmare for the rest of your life. Fortunately, like any attraction, everything tends to end, and the road to hell led you to the gates of paradise with a white ocean, cool water and complete silence where a small flimsy boat was ready to take you to the other shore.

To your personal paradise. In which there are no mutated monsters, no blood, no pain from wounds, no deaths, no Leon Scott Kennedy, who previously broke your heart.

You've seen enough to make the desire to live leave you, but Leon kept trying to make your heart beat with useless indirect heart massage. You went to the deep bottom, as if she had never been with him and did not love him. Leon's tears are dripping on your cheeks, laying clean paths, washing away dirt and blood from you. The human brain lives for about five minutes after death and your precious seconds are almost running out. This man tore you into a thousand pieces and now he's holding you to him, but it should have been done before. The eternal scarlet sunset would never have caught up with you if the day before your trip and on the day of the quarrel Leon grabbed you in his arms, chaining you to him with hot hugs without letting you go anywhere.

This horror could have been prevented.

But when you were thrown like a mangy puppy, he cherished his love for Ada Wong. No one knows what happens in those last moments when the soul leaves the body, but that very last second of your life without hearing or seeing him, you wanted him to be as hurt as you were when you found out the truth.

One single second before your feet dipped into the water and you got into the boat, and your wish was fulfilled…

You died in the middle of the night, despite the fact that you loved him very much anyway. Every creature has a mate but you don't have anything else. Let anyone but you be Leon's mate from now on. Before that ill-fated quarrel, you could even die for him, only Leon would quickly move away from your unnecessary sacrifice.

How monsters surrounded you from all sides and the light of your soul was extinguished forever. Then why did you continue to love his light half-smile and the expensive suit in which you first met him until the end? It is always cold outside, but inside of which sabantuy is raging. Leon is a man who often contradicted himself and you're just unlucky that he didn't dare to push you away.

There was no point in saving you anymore, but Leon continued to carry your body, pressing it closer to him, as if you were just unconscious and his legs were failing him, as if you were an unbearable burden, although before he always carried you lightly in his arms. He won't have a chance at redemption and he'll always live with the guilt of your death. But if you were alive, Leon thinks that you would be sarcastic to him right now, like Ada would be able to comfort him. And Leon is angry even though he knows it's stupid. You're silent in his arms.

He doesn't care how dirty you are. He kisses your face, squeezing your wrists tightly and for some reason trying to warm you up. His lips will imprint a kiss between eyes, temples, cheeks and lips themselves, leaving him a salty taste of blood. Leon catches you comfortably so that his jacket does not fly off you. your face is pressed against his shoulder, but he's not looking anymore. He thinks that maybe there will be a first aid kit in the helicopter from which there will be no sense. And even when they're taken away, Leon doesn't give you to anyone. He strokes your hair, begging the medic in his team to do something, but she looks at him with an indifferent look and then at the gaping wound on your chest and is silent, realizing that their captain has in fact already brought a corpse.

But in the end, you still end up in a corpse bag where they put you right away, taking you out of Leon's hands. No matter how he tried to take you back, he was not allowed. You didn't have time to see the sunlight and Leon feels like he let you down. Did not save. Shouted at the doctors, shouted at those who without regret stuffed you into this black cloth with a lock hiding from him like those scoundrels who ruined you. And then when everyone cooled down, he was simply confronted with the fact.

If dead, then the body belongs to forced sterilization.

But Leon won't even get your ashes... as if you kept torturing him while he drowned his pain in a bottle, breaking all the glasses. He kept your chiffon scarf close to him on purpose so he could smell you. His weakness... he just wanted you around again.

And all because of one damn mistake he made.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #female reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy resident evil #leon #leon kennedy angst #leon x you #dead reader #re #angst

[silver-itallics]

My Favorite Inside Source

Leon Kennedy x reader

Part 2!

Warnings: Non-con, drugging, kidnapping, kind of cnc, Leon being a weird old man and feeling bad about it

Title is from Rape Me by Nirvana

This is inspired by Waste Me from @gilfhub !! super cool awesome person I love their brain

This was a stupid idea.

Most of your ideas have been stupid recently.

But you feel stupid, so your antics fit.

You don't have enough self respect to care anyway.

There's a red solo cup in your hand, inside it a mix of alcohols that will probably give you liver damage in your thirties. Raising it to your lips, the drink isn't half bad.

Or maybe you're just too drunk to tell.

The alcohol burns your throat, making you feel a strange mix of nauseous and euphoric. Around you, everyone else seems to be in the same condition.

People grind against their partners in a sorry excuse for dancing, stumbling as much as you are.

It's perfect.

For the past few weeks, you've been doing this. Getting drunk or high out of your mind, sometimes both, in hopes of someone looking your way. You've exhausted your skimpiest of outfits, and worn enough makeup to provide for a beauty pageant.

You leave your cups unattended, and drink any suspicious substance you can get your hands on. You flirt without paying attention to any red flags, letting your neckline hang low enough to practically show nipples.

It's like you're begging to get scooped up and thrown in the back of a trunk.

Actually, what you want is worse than that.

All of your antics are an attempt to get bent over in a stranger's bedroom or a dirty bedroom while you scream "please, no!"

In your mind, no one will lay their hands on you unless you're one step away from unconsciousness.

Pretty girls get taken home. Pretty girls get paid attention to.

You, however, are begging to get raped.

Quite literally.

The last guy that came close enough to shoving his hands down your pants got scared away. You begged him to rape you; you were drunk enough for it to be considered the sort.

He pushed you off, calling you a freak and all sorts of names without even touching you.

Ever since then, your efforts have doubled.

You put your body on display, despite how unattractive you find it. Even in a skirt so short you can see your panties and a shirt so low cut your bra is showing, you barely get any attention.

Maybe it's your soft jawline, or hip dips. The lack of attention could be chalked up to your round tummy or the pimple below your lip. Or it could be your frizzy hair, or the fact that you only talk about three things.

You could make a list out of things you hate about yourself.

Instead, you're fishing for attention, using your tits and ass as bait on a hook.

Still, you keep coming up empty handed.

As you lean over the bar, purposely looking away from your drink, you can feel eyes on you. You push the thought away, your insecurities not believing that anyone would look at you that way. But actually, quite a lot of people look. Only because your pussy is practically hanging out of your skirt, but you catch their eyes anyway.

This time, though, you don't feel just a fleeting glance. You can feel staring.

Turning, you find the culprit. A man twice your age with shaggy dark blond hair watches you like a hawk. You're surprised, considering he's quite attractive. The guy is well built, with muscles and a sharp jawline with a bit of stubble. Pretty. You'll bite.

You give him a smile, playing up how drunk you are. However, it's not hard, considering you'd probably break a breathalyzer with how much alcohol is in your system. The fact that you haven't thrown up yet is a miracle.

Instead of walking over to him, you shift your focus to the bar once more, playing hard to get. Guys like that. At least you think they do. You've never really caught enough guys' attention to say for sure.

Shifting your hips, you arch your back to give him a good view of your panties. The skirt you're wearing is already quite short, but the angle makes the fabric slip up your behind even more. At least there's enough fat in your body to give you some semblance of an ass.

That seems to do the trick, as in a few minutes, you feel a warm hand on your lower back. Now that you've got his attention, time to reel him in.

"Hey handsome," you slur, stumbling a little. That gives you the opportunity to press your cup against his chest in hopes he takes the chance to roofie your drink.

The guy catches you, his hand slipping to your waist. You have to stop yourself from melting into his embrace and begging for it already. He smells like whiskey and gunpowder, and you can feel his strength in just the simple touch.

"Hey yourself."

You talk with him for a few minutes, making sure to compliment him as much as possible and insult yourself at every given chance. Playing the pathetic role isn't difficult, as you aren't really pretending.

Eventually, you learn the man's name is Leon, and as you guessed, he's quite a bit older than you. Almost twice your age. Which is even better in your twisted mind.

"Gonna go pee." You shove your cup into his hand, walking to the bathroom at the back of the bar. There's a long line, which gives Leon enough time to decide what to do with your drink.

At first, he protects it. His hand is wrapped around the opening, and he keeps an eye out for anyone that might have looked your way earlier.

But really, he should be protecting you from himself.

Leon didn't come here with the intention of taking anyone home. Especially unconscious.

But you played into his hands so perfectly, practically putting yourself on a silver platter for him. You probably wouldn't even notice if he slipped something in your drink.

Guilt twists in his stomach.

Girls were always hard for Leon. They liked his looks, but never stuck around long enough to appreciate his personality. At least that's what he told himself.

Except for you.

You liked both his looks and personality, easily charming jokes out of him. And you even laughed.

Some of them you genuinely found funny.

Plus, your self esteem was so low, you'd probably give him what he wanted if he asked politely. Still, there was the chance you'd fight, and he couldn't have that.

The thought made Leon feel sick.

What the hell was he doing?

As quickly as the nausea came, it subsided. The feeling was replaced with the memory that Leon hadn't had pussy in years. He knew you had a nice warm cunt that you'd turn over in minutes.

But you'd be tighter if he took it from you.

That was what helped him decide.

He was only a man, one with needs. You were a fragile, insecure girl.

This would be a cakewalk.

Leon slipped his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a few melatonin tablets. He kept them on him because he couldn't sleep most nights.

He probably wouldn't be sleeping after the guilt of what he was about to do, but the need to feel your plush walls was stronger than any morals Leon had.

Normally, he'd be better than this. But after his entire team got killed in front of him because of a stupid mistake he made, Leon hadn't been the same.

He dumped the pills into your drink.

They drop down to the bottom, fizzing as they start to dissolve. Hopefully the little tablets disappear fast enough for you not to notice. That way, the only evidence would be the effects you'd feel later. Hopefully he'd be able to keep you entertained long enough to scoop you up.

Just in time, you appear behind Leon, dragging your fingers up his arm.

"Sorry, line was long. Miss me?" You tease.

"Lots," Leon chuckles. He gives your drink a subtle shake before handing it back to you. Without even checking the contents, you take it.

"Protected it with my life."

You smile at Leon's stupid joke, taking a big swim of your drink. You really hope he put something in it.

"Well, thank you for your service."

Swishing your drink, you make sure not to look down at the liquid. Leon is glad you don't, as the pills at the bottom are still dissolving. God, he's even bad at drugging stupid sluts at bars.

The only thing he feels he's good at is guns.

They're easy, people aren't. When his gun jams, he knows exactly what to do. But Leon's mouth goes dry when you look at him with those doe eyes of yours.

The two of you talk a little longer, and you make sure to down your drink quickly. Once you get down to the bottom, your face twists a little at the unfamiliar taste. Leon notices, and panics a little. But he needs to be calm. Pretend like nothing's wrong.

So he claps a harsh hand on your shoulder, shaking your body with the motion. He almost forgets what he's doing as he watches your skin jiggle a little.

"It's okay, kid. I didn't like alcohol at first, either."

He manages a smile, but Leon knows he's an idiot. Calling the girl he's about to take home and fuck senseless a "kid" is not the right move. Even if fucking isn't the right word for what he's about to do to you.

Thirty minutes. Leon needs to occupy for thirty minutes, so that the melatonin kicks in. Surprisingly, the task isn't as hard as he thought. Even if you're a little annoying, you entertain yourself well, talking as if he cares. You're like a puppy chasing its own tail. He almost feels bad for what he's about to do.

Almost.

Leon pulls you closer as you yawn, supporting your weight on his biceps. Jeez, you're heavier than he thought you'd be. That might be a problem.

"'m sleepy," you mutter, completely forgetting what you came here for. Well, either way you wanted someone to take you home, and that's exactly what you're gonna get.

You lurch forward, feeling dizzy and sick. Even in this dazed state, you realize: you've actually been drugged. Fear creeps up your belly, latching itself on each of your ribs. For so long, you've fantasized about this, and now that it's happening, you're getting cold feet.

There's a look of inebriated panic on your face, clear as day. Feeling sluggish like jelly, you reach up, pointing a wobbly finger at Leon's chest.

"Leon… you…" slurring, you can't even get the words out. The bartender looks curiously at the two of you, to which Leon puts on one of those charming smiles of his. The one that's gotten him so far, the one he's mastered from years of kissing up to the president.

His hand slides into place around your waist, pushing down your accusatory finger.

"Think she's had too much to drink," he chuckles, looking down at you. "Haven't you, baby?"

Baby.

The word is enough to make you compliant. Leon's voice repeats in your head, putting you to sleep like one of those audiobooks you listened to as a kid.

Sleepily, you nod, relenting your body to him. You're like a bunny chasing a carrot on a string. Except you'd follow that carrot even if it led you into an active volcano. Leon almost pities you. But he pities himself more.

He's rough when he shoves you into the car, and you drift off in seconds. You're out like a light, so he's gotta work fast to get you to his apartment. Leon could always rape you in his car, but he's classier than that. He's a private man, even if he's a dick.

When you're finally on his bed is when he realizes what he's doing. Sprawled out on his pillows, your hair drifts out like a halo. With your eyes closed and lips parted, you look sweet. Even if you're not a blonde bombshell on the cover of playboy magazine.

You're just some girl, an average one.

Some might even call you a victim.

Leon feels nauseous again. Normally he can hold his whiskey, but this is a different type of sick feeling. He's sick in the head, and he knows it. Like a parasite in his head, one he can see, but can't remove.

That same parasite is what makes him crawl between your legs as you're sleeping, pressing his face to your panties. Nice ones, too. He lifts up your skirt to get better access and a better look at the lacy fabric covering your slit. He takes a deep whiff before pushing himself back up.

Leon's gotta work fast, as you're just asleep, not paralyzed. Another amateur mistake. He might have to concuss you if you make too much noise. Surprisingly, he's okay with that. He's broken plenty of skulls, and yours would be just one more. Except you're not infected with any disease, except for a similar one that he has, and you're not a war criminal.

Looking you over, Leon notices what little clothing you're wearing. Claire would tell him it's not good to say that girls are "asking for it", but it kinda seems like you are. He's not sure whether that makes this whole situation better or worse.

Whatever.

The top of your obnoxiously colorful bra peeks out from your shirt, and Leon tugs it down. Your boobs are average, but the first real ones he's seen without paying for them. Even if he'll probably pay for this later. Just not in money.

He's old now, and can't get hard as easily as before. But that doesn't stop his dick from trying to. Man, he's stooped low.

In his twenties, he had girls throwing themselves at him, but never the ones he wanted. Before, his expectations were high. But now he's getting chubbed from the sight of some average tits.

You're an average joe in almost every way. Boobs aren't too big, and your ass isn't huge either. You're mostly fat, which is probably to blame for most of your ass anyways.

But if Leon is good at anything, it's dealing with what he's given.

So he lowers his mouth down to one of your tits, taking your nipple in his lips. He's not as good at it as he used to be, but the skin hardens anyways. Maybe you're good at settling, too. Just like he is.

You squirm a little each time he sucks on your nipples, eyebrows creasing. Leon takes them both in his hands, and each of your boobs fit nicely in his palms. Maybe this isn't so bad.

He jerks his hips forward, trying to get his dick hard. You make it a little easier for him to get it up, compared to the night he spends alone. At least he has some material tonight that's not on paper or a screen.

Your panties are starting to get wet, which is fine, even if he'd prefer you a bit drier. You'd be tighter that way.

He leaves most of your clothes on, figuring you'd be less violated than way. Leon's line of thinking doesn't always make the most sense, but he does it anyways. When he pulls away your underwear, he chuckles a little. You've got a pretty pussy for an average joe, but with a hack job of pubes.

At least you smell nice.

He slides your underwear off your legs, tossing them into a drawer in his nightstand. A keepsake. Trophy. Or maybe material if you ever get away. Probably evidence if you ever go to the police.

Maybe Leon's life will turn around if he gets arrested. Or the president will just break him out and he'll be back to fighting nightmares day and night.

He's trapped in this stupid job. But he's not trapped with you. With you, Leon finally has control. He can make you jerk by playing with your nipples and whine when he kisses your clit. But being nice is boring.

Normally he'd eat a girl out, for the sake of chivalry or whatever. But this is about him, not you. You don't have control here.

He pushes his jeans to his knees, just enough to get his dick out. At least it's hard now, from the sight and smell of your pussy. Probably your best feature.

When he presses the tip against your pretty folds, you gasp. The first sound you've made tonight. Leon doesn't find the noise to be unbearable, so he keeps going.

When he pushes in, he's the one that makes a noise. You're tight as hell, and just wet enough to slip in, but not too much to be sloppy. Christ, you squeeze him like you're trying to kill him.

This is when you wake up. If the state you're in can even be considered consciousness. You feel like you're dreaming, but you fight Leon off anyways. Or try to. The way you push at him is pretty cute honestly. Similarly to how a kitten plays with a piece of string.

"Leon! Stop… it hurts…"

Your smaller hands push at his clothed chest, and he easily catches both of them in one of his larger hands. Sure, you wanted to be raped, but now that you are, you're scared. The fear in your eyes is laughable.

"Thought you wanted this," he mumbles out, struggling to push into your tight walls. You bleed a little, which helps him slide in. Leon's used to blood on his hands, or really everywhere. But never his dick.

Now you're crying. You feel stupid, incredibly so. But Leon's only focusing on the bounce of your tits and stomach, the tight squeeze of your cunt.

"I did!" You hiccup. Your hands still push at his own, despite the fact he's got you pinned and straddled. "I- I don't know!"

Your sobs subside as you focus more on the feeling. The pain is still there, of course, you haven't had dick in years. But it feels good in the same way that popping pimples does or sticking safety pins in your fingers.

Even in sex, you're self destructive. You stop fighting, even starting to enjoy it a little. With the melatonin still in your system, you drift in and out of sleep, which probably helps your case. Leon's thrusts are a little too rough to take fully conscious.

"There we go," he says, speeding up. He's taken to a rhythm that feels good for him, and if you like it too, that's fine. He'll hate himself afterwards either way.

Leon grabs your chin, squishing your chubby cheeks between his fingers. He lets go of your hands, which fumble for his shirt, but not to push him off this time. You're pulling him in even closer. Wiping the tears off your cheeks, the older man smiles down at you. It's sadistic, but a smile nonetheless.

"Good sluts take what they're given, yeah?"

You whine, nodding dumbly. Your tongue feels numb in your mouth and your pussy feels sore. In a way that you probably shouldn't like. Leon's fucking you in a way that will probably cause you to book an appointment with a pelvic floor therapist.

He grunts, and your eyes go all starry. Leon ignores the stupid look you're giving him, splaying his hands on your fat thighs, spreading them further. He's close.

Maybe fifteen years ago, he'd be able to last longer or be kinder to you. But the squeeze of your cunt and soft, slick noises are driving him crazy. Crazier than he has to be to do something like this.

He's about to tell you of the predicament, figuring you'd be relieved. But you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush with yours. The pain of his dick hitting your cervix makes you a little nauseous, but you're sick enough to like the sting. Your head is thrown back in a moan as he cums inside of you.

For a moment, Leon feels like he's actually fucking someone he cares about, not just some slut he drugged at a bar. There's a sense of normalcy as his brain goes fuzzy with the orgasm. Your tight pussy makes him cum so hard he sees stars. Something that hasn't happened in years.

But when he comes down, slumping on top of you and breathing heavily, he realizes what he's done. Leon rolls over to the other side of the bed, giving you more than enough space. You're falling back asleep already when the post nut clarity hits him like a truck.

He almost cries, even if he's not the one that is currently bleeding onto his sheets from being treated so roughly. There's even slight bruises on your jaw and hips from where he'd been grabbing you all night. Feels like the night he planned to kill himself all over again. That time he had Sherry to keep him alive, but now she's all grown up and better off without him.

You mumble something in your sleep, causing Leon to turn his head to look at you. He didn't even have the patience to undress you fully; your tits are haphazardly pulled out of your shirt, and your skirt is bunched up around your hips. He didn't even look close enough at your body, the way you deserve. The way he can't give you.

God, he's an asshole.

Or probably even worse than that.

Leon watches you sleep. You're not the prettiest, or the most confident, but now he's stuck with you. Trapped the way he is with his job. In a strange way, he feels connected to you. Not in a love way, but in the way that the bruises on your jaw are in the shape of his fingers. Not anyone else's.

Maybe he won't end it tonight. Maybe he'll stay alive another day. Since he roughed you up so badly, and you're still living. Even if you're leaking a mixture of cum and blood on his sheets. Stupid thing, did nobody teach you to pee after sex? But Leon's not going to wake you. He's probably not even going to get up, either. You'll have matching UTI's and be stuck even closer in this fucked up spiderweb he's created between the two of you.

Sometime past five in the morning is when Leon falls asleep. Surprisingly, he's been given a decent vacation after his last screw up. God knows how long that'll last.

When he wakes up, blinding light filtering in through his dusty apartment, the first thing he sees is you. You're laying on his chest, still barely dressed. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you're drooling a little on his shirt.

He's not even considerate enough to try not to wake you, shoving you to the side so he can go pee. You fall to the side, blinking slowly as you wake up.

"Where are you going?" You ask, voice scratchy from sleep and all the crying you did last night. Screaming, too.

Leon can't even look at you. He's still stuck in that state of realization. Because now he knows what he is. Before, he was the golden boy, the president's favorite. But now he's a rapist and overall a big splotch of a mistake.

"Gotta piss," he grumbles, already halfway in the bathroom. You watch him curiously, as if you want to come in. Leon immediately shuts the door, a bit too harshly.

He stays in the bathroom too long. Your blood and other fluids dried on his dick and pelvis, which he only cleans off because it's itchy. But also because he doesn't really want to be reminded of what he did. Leon wishes he could clean off last night like the dried blood on his skin.

But he knows he can't.

Once he's done, he stumbles into the kitchen, planning on downing a bottle of whiskey for breakfast. Or lunch. It's already past noon.

Leon's plan comes to a screeching halt as he smells food cooking. You're fully dressed again, albeit, without underwear.

All of the guilt he's been feeling all night can't compare to the absolute misery he feels watching you.

The girl he raped last night.

You're cooking breakfast for him, like a little housewife.

The fact that you're not crying even hurts more. You're humming softly, poking around some bacon in a pan with a spatula. Somehow, you found something to cook for him, though he's been living off of takeout and microwave meals for about a week now.

After a few minutes of staring is when you notice that Leon is there. You turn, confirming the fact that you're cooking for him.

"Hey," you're smiling at him, bright doe eyes and rosy cheeks. "I just wanted to say thanks for last night."

God. What the hell has he done?

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #dark content #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon smut #dead dove do not eat #leon kennedy x you #x reader

[alienguts]

Spectacular (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Y/N needs glasses and wants Ash to help her pick some out.

Warnings: fluff, friendly teasing

Request?: No

A/N: This one goes out to my glasses wearing babes out there. I am not one which is a shame because I look good in glasses. Also, I know that it takes much longer for prescription lenses to come in but this is a magical fictional opticians where they have things instantly.

Ash had spent fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs in the optometrist waiting room, watching the rerun game show on the world’s smallest television set. He’d told Y/N multiple times that she didn’t need him to accompany her to her eye test, but she’d insisted so much that he eventually caved. He didn’t know anything about eyes except what it felt like to stand on one, and that was something he wished he didn’t know.

Eventually, Y/N came out of the exam room, the eye doctor in tow and a piece of paper in her hand. He looked up as he heard them come in and saw how her lips were pursed into a hard line.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between Y/N and the doctor.

“I need glasses,” she said. 

Is that it? Ash thought as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, ignoring the doctor.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world, honey,” he soothed. “I bet you’ll look cute in glasses.”

“I’m not worried about that, Ash,” Y/N said as she shrugged his arm off of her. “It’s how much they’re gonna cost. I don’t exactly have all the money in the world.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll figure something out.”

The doctor cleared his throat briefly, drawing their attention back to him.

“If you’ll both follow me, we’ll try some frames out.”

Ash had expected to spend another fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs while Y/N tried on glasses, but it turned out that he was quite keen to help her find a good frame.

“What about these?” he asked as he held up a thin framed pair with perfectly round lenses. Y/N immediately scrunched her nose at them.

“Nah, I’d look like John Lennon in those,” she said but still took them from him. She placed the glasses on her face and took one look in the mirror before turning back to Ash. 

“See?” she said. “They’re too Lennon for me.”

“I dunno, I think you look cute in them,” Ash said. 

Y/N immediately turned back to the wall of frames, embarrassed by him complimenting her in a public place. She picked up a pair with square lenses and settled them on her face before turning back to Ash.

“How about these?” 

“Now those are cute,” he said as he took her face in his hands and angled her chin around, as if he was trying to get a good look at her from all angles.

“I like these too,” Y/N said as she tried to suppress a laugh. 

“You look like a cute librarian,” Ash said and let go of her face before kissing her gently. He felt how her face immediately heated up against his and smiled against her lips before drawing away again.

“Okay,” Y/N said, trying to not look so flustered. “These are a definite yes, I just need a spare pair.”

“You mean we gotta keep looking?” Ash whined. “Can’t you just get two of the same?”

“I could, but I want a different pair too,” she said and turned back to the wall to look at the frames again.

Ash let his eyes wander over the display and immediately pulled a random pair off the wall.

“How about these?” he asked and placed them onto his own face.

“Ugh, no,” Y/N bristled. “I’d look like a serial killer in those.”

“I guess they are a little creepy when they’re not sunglasses,” Ash said and put the frames back. “Hey, I’m gonna leave you to it, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said. “I’ll probably be here a while so don’t rush yourself.”

Ash took his time, as Y/N had said to, coming back to the store just as she was paying. Her back was to him as she took a bag from the assistant, presumably with her new glasses inside. He took quiet steps as he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She jumped slightly when she noticed him but rested a hand on her wrist as she finished her conversation and thanked the assistant.

“Ready to go?” he asked as she turned round to face him.

He was surprised to see Y/N already wearing her new glasses: a pair with black frames and mid-sized lenses that sat perfectly on her face. They were better than any pair he would have picked for her and just made her cuter.

“Hey, you made a good choice,” he said and gently took hold of her chin to turn her face to different angles. “You suit them.”

“You think so?” Y/N said, her face warming. “I was worried you wouldn’t like them for a second.”

“You kidding?” Ash said as they left the store together. “Nah, you look cute in them.”

Y/N smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to gently kiss him. “Thank you, honey.”

 “You’re welcome, poindexter.”

“Why did I have a feeling you would end up teasing me?” Y/N said with a laugh.

“You just know me so well, baby,” Ash crooned. “I could say other things to you. How about if I said you look like a sexy librarian?”

“I’ll think about that one, just don’t tease too much or you’ll get it.”

"Can't wait," he said and took her hand in his to lead her to the parking lot.

#ash williams x reader #ash williams x you #ash williams imagine #ash williams fluff #evil dead x reader #evil dead x you #evil dead imagine #evil dead fic #fluff #female reader #*my writing