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#moon.dc
moonrisecoeur · 1 month
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romance — leon kennedy
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author’s note: i am sick this is actually a really cute fic. although i might be a lil mentally ill. this fic is for @ovaryacted so i hope u like it nic :3 feeling re6 leon vibes hehe !!
wc: 4.7k
content: detective leon x psycho reader, fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to femininely), no d/s dynamics but reader is slightly more in control, lots of pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, my girl, sweetheart, sweetie, pretty wife), talks of marriage, unprotected sex, blood as lube. reader is like actually insane but leon loves her.
warning: this fic is dark content, containing moderate amounts of blood and gore depictions, along with discussions of murder, torture, bodies, weapons, etc. please read with caution and take care of yourself.
notes:
"i'd love to see you in a beautiful dress," he says softly. 
“i would look pretty just for you.”
leon chuckles and squeezes your hand again, it's funny how he can go from fearing you to becoming utterly enamored with you in a matter of moments.
"i have no doubts about that, sweetheart," he replies, "now come here."
“what… have you done now, princess?” he stumbles, because when you said you look good in red, he clumsily thought you meant you were going to wear a red dress for him. 
“the guy was asking for it, lee,” you tell him, taking a step closer to reach out to him, but he steps back, “are you… afraid of me?”
“kinda. i also just… i don’t want you to get blood on my work clothes,” his smile is always gentle towards you. there’s no reality where detective kennedy can get mad at you, though. he adores you too greatly.
your eyes drop from focusing on his soft, warm gaze, to trailing down his body. he really does make himself pretty for you. black blazer and black dress pants on top of a red wine button down, top two buttons left unbuttoned because obviously the s in leon s. kennedy stands for slut. or maybe selfless? sensitive? submissive? who knows?
either way, you have the eyes of a predator. he knows you know that, yet you make no attempt to ease his mind, to tell him, ‘oh, it’s alright baby. i would never hurt you’ because neither of you are sure if that’s true. 
“blood on your clothes, huh..?” you murmur, almost distantly, like your mind was somewhere else.
“we, uh, have dinner reservations, baby. why don’t you get cleaned up and we can go? i don’t think… the restaurant would appreciate blood all over their chairs and tables,” he looks away, and then back to you. your eyes are hungry, but he tries to keep you focused, “baby, you got rid of the body, right?”
“well.. not necessarily… i wanted to dismember him myself,” you pout, like you were asking for something a lot less gruesome. like, ‘leon, could we please get ice cream after dinner?’ but instead you were asking something a little bit more on brand for you. he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised.
“just… okay, whatever. just c’mere and kiss me, sweetie,” he welcomes you into his arms again, refusing to even pay any mind to the viscous scarlet liquid that saturates his velvet suit, your hand staining his neck and you reach to rest it on the back of his neck. he stopped caring about the mess and wrapped his arms around your waist.
you kiss him feverishly, stained hands and tainted souls clashing together. leon was rotten before you met him, corrupted and dark. you feel a bit more comfortable with the fact that you have not ruined him. there was nothing good about him to ruin. he lies, fabricates and destroys evidence, forces confessions, truly a brutal guy. 
and yet, for the pretty thing that clutches onto him, only feeling truly happy in his arms, he is comfort. he’s safety and goodness. he is everything that’s right in her world. your world.
you are awful. but so is leon. that is why he loves you so dearly. if people like you both are even capable of such emotions.
your dress is carmine and if leon didn’t know any better, he’d think you were a victim of a heinous crime, but he does know better. and he knows there is not a single scratch or bruise on you.
leon holds you close to him, hands wrapped around your waist, giving you his complete soul, enjoying the warmth of your embrace and the familiar feel of your lips pressed against his. he squeezes you tightly and runs his hands along your hips, his touch smooth and gentle. 
leon is your complete opposite. your touch is forceful and aggressive, but leon is gentle. all your body knows is his softness. you are erratic and violent, but leon is composed. 
as you continue kissing him, leon's breath becomes heavier and his heart beats faster. he pulls away for a moment, panting gently as an expression of pure joy and relief crosses his face. leon leans down again, this time capturing your chin between his fingers as he looks into your eyes, soaking in the sight of you.
“you… are beautiful,” his voice echoes, low and full of an adoration even leon can’t wrap his head around. scarlet covers your figure, and all he can see is utter beauty. 
“you got anywhere to be, detective kennedy?” you smile as you address him professionally, but it’s only teasing. your hand is moving to help him shrug off his suit coat and he thinks he might be here a bit longer than he thought. you throw it onto the table.when your hand starts moving to help him take off his jacket, his eyebrow raises in interest, and his eyes follow the movement of your hand until it touches his shoulder and starts undoing the buttons.
"no, nowhere in particular," he says casually, watching his coat get thrown to the side. you’re careless. that is expensive velvet, and your red hands definitely just ruined it. it’s alright he muses, he’ll just replace it. 
the coat, he clarifies to himself. he’ll replace the coat. not this memory with you. 
"excellent," you tell him, crimson fingers tangling into his blonde hair, “i wasn’t going to let you leave anyway.”
"i figured as much," he chuckles playfully, enjoying the feeling of your fingers digging into his scalp, massaging the tension away. leon's body relaxes against yours, savoring the feel of you pressed against him. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.
"i've been working way too hard today," he sighs, and he sees the soft pout that comes to your face. it’s gotta be the cutest thing he’d ever seen, "don’t look at me like that, baby. i just didn't get much of a chance to relax. it’s my job, princess.” leon squeezes you tightly against him, the warmth from his body radiating against yours.
“how does your brain work for that long?” you shake your head, “i feel like i would start losing it with how long of days you work. you shouldn’t have to work so hard, lee.”
"i swear, i was staring at the same case file for like, ten hours straight," he sighs. "i can't look at those numbers and words anymore."
"i bet," you mumble, noticing the way the blood is drying up in his hair and on both of your clothes and skin, "you look like you're the murderer now," you chuckle, "i think i'm going to have to lock you up."
leon lets out a laugh, looking down at himself and noticing the dried blood caking up in his hair and on his suit, "i bet i do," he chuckles, "i look like i've just come from a crime scene."
leon looks up at you, his eyes shining mischievously. "then i guess you'll have to arrest me," he teases, "do you have the handcuffs ready?"
you laugh, mostly because you know he’s making shitty jokes, but also because you might enjoy restraining him a little too much, “oh yeah, except the jail cell is my bedroom.”
"well, you're the officer who has to bring me in," he says with a smirk, "i don't think i'll be resisting arrest too much."
“oh, shut up, dork. just kiss me,” you groan to him, pulling him in by the hips. his white button up dress shirt being stained by your red hands feels indicative of what you’ve done to leon. it’s not like he’s perfectly pristine, he’s been a corrupt cop for years, but… you have only made him worse.
it's as if he's addicted to the touch and affection of your hands, his body becoming hot with desire. he enjoys the way you press against him, your red hands staining his shirt and staining his soul. your fingers dig into his hips forcefully as you pull him in close to you, your tainted hands staining his clothes as you do so. you've definitely made him even more corrupt than he was before you came into the picture, and he's loving every second of it.
you pull away to whisper to him, in his ear, wet blood covering his skin and his clothes, "i love you."
now, he’s known for a long time that you love him, even if that love is twisted and tainted. as blood drips down the both of you, he wraps his arms around you more tightly, burying his face in your neck as he whispers into your ear.
"i love you too, princess,”  he whispers back, not caring about the dried blood coating you both, "also, wait, where is your victim? did anyone see you? please tell me you were careful, baby."
"i destroyed his body parts already, don't worry. no one saw me."
"thank god.. or should i say thank you?" leon replies with a cheeky grin. to him, you are god. you are a religion. you are a deity who visits him in his dreams and treats him like her beloved human pet. he looks at you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your body, the dried blood of your previous victims making you look even more beautiful to him. god, you are so fucking pretty to him.
"though, i do need your help destroying evidence.." your fingers draw sweet little hearts onto his back once you throw his dress shirt off entirely, but he's certain your bloody hearts left literal, physical drawings on his skin. you are so fucking deranged and he adores you.
"i can help you with anything," he murmurs, leaning his head down to plant kiss after kiss on your neck, “that’s what i’m here for, baby.”
every trace of your blood-stained heart has been embedded and melded into his skin, like a stain that can never be washed out with bleach. he loves his psycho princess.
"but i don't want to think about that right now," you lean your head on his shoulder, "i just wanna be here with you.."
leon nods, enjoying the feeling of your head pressed onto him, the warmth from your body radiating gently, "i know, i know, baby," he says softly, "no worrying right now, just you and i."
after a moment of peace and calm, you perk your head up suddenly, a contemplative look on his face, "do you think... will i ever go to prison?"
leon chuckles, shaking his head as he continues stroking your hair, "no, you won't," he replies confidently, "not as long as i'm around, and i'm not going anywhere. i'll always keep you safe and make sure you're never caught."
leon feels the weight of your worries melt away from you. he enjoys being the one to calm you, tame you in a way. you are a monster, but with him, you’re his sweet girl with her.. mildly disturbing hobbies.
"you’ll be okay," he says gently, "i mean, if anyone does find evidence pointing to you, i'll get rid of it before it can even be used. i'm not going to let anyone come between us.”
“yeah?”
“you’re stuck with me forever, princess. i’ll make sure you never spend even one night in a jail cell. only the most comfortable living arrangements for my baby.”
you chuckle, pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “you’re the one that’s stuck with me. who knows? maybe my thirst for blood will include you some day.”
leon laughs, his body trembling slightly at your sweet kisses against his neck, he doesn't even want to think about the possibility of you deciding to kill him one day, but he also knows that it's not an impossibility. he swallows the lump in his throat and decides it's better to just push that thought away for now.
the worst part is… he knows you’d enjoy it. you’d watch the light slowly leave his eyes with glee. makes him nauseous.
"maybe," he says with a teasing tone, but it’s impossible to miss how his voice shakes, "but i'm more valuable to you alive, sweetheart."
“i know, i know.” you giggle, hands digging into the waistband of his fancy velvet slacks, “i just like playing with you. you get so nervous.. it’s cute.”
leon grins in return, but a hint of a nervous chuckle escapes his lips when he feels you start unbuttoning his pants.
he feels his heart rate start to pick up, both from anticipation and a little bit of anxiety, “you like playing with me huh…” he says in a lower, somewhat panting voice, “don’t play with your food, baby. do what you gotta do.”
you smirk, pushing him down onto his office chair, the same one you bought him a couple months ago when he was complaining about his old one. you sit yourself down on his lap, hands resting around the back of his neck, caressing him so sweetly. god, if leon closed his eyes, he could pretend this was normal and you were normal and you were both just two young lovers that adored each other. 
his hands grasp your waist and keep you close, as he's afraid you'll leave him. you can't leave him now. not after all he's done for you, to protect you, to save you from yourself. he's ruined himself for you, he's destroyed evidence and burned bodies and lied and lied and lied for you. you can't leave him now.
his psychopath. his monster. his sweet lover. him. you belong to him. 
he doesn't understand why you're so gentle with him, but you are and he's grateful, so he doesn't push the subject. when your hands pull at the waistband of his boxers, his eyes become soft and glassy and he rests his head back against the chair. you may do what you please with him at this point.
leon lets out a contented sigh as he relaxes back into the chair, his head leaning against the backrest as he gazes up at you. you are… breathtaking. a beautiful dove covered in her victim’s crimson blood.
your touch is soft and delicate, much different from the usual roughness that you've had with your previous victims. yet he can't complain that you're choosing to be so gentle with him, letting him keep this illusion of you being a normal person, just for a moment.
"can i have you, lee? right here, right now?"
it's almost amusing how normal that question sounds to him. after all this time, after everything he's done for you, after all the murders he's covered up for you, the bodies he's burned and the evidence he's destroyed... it almost makes him chuckle to hear that sentence. it’s remarkable, honestly. you’re vicious and violent and cruel… and you’re asking for consent? how adorable.
"of course," he says softly, his tone slightly pleading and desperate, "please. take me, baby... i'm yours."
you smile sweetly, though the sweetness is undercut by the blood on your face. he would almost assume you're possessed by something demonic if he didn't already know you were evil to begin with, "you make me so happy, baby." you muse gently, "you keep me safe, protect me when i mess up... i'm gonna be your perfect little wife someday."
leon chuckles softly at your words, but there's a part of him that's a little bit terrified. in his mind, he knows that this isn't the beginning of some fairytale romance, and that your intentions aren't quite pure, but he chooses to ignore those thoughts. he's already fallen down such a dark path because of your influence, so what's stopping him from falling a little bit deeper and going all the way down into this fucking madness with you?
"i'll protect you from everything," he replies, his fingers gripping tightly around yours, "nothing will ever hurt you again, my sweet wife. i’ll keep you safe and happy, always.”
"we should get married in a big, beautiful chapel. i don't need a lot of people there, i just want to be there with you."
leon grins, "you'd be happy with just a small wedding?" he asks with a hint of surprise in his voice, "i thought you'd want something big and extravagant to show off to everyone."
“all i need is a pretty dress and you,” you whisper to him.
leon chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face with his hand, his fingers slightly trembling. a part of him can't help but wonder how this would all end: would it actually end happily? with you two walking down the aisle to an altar, exchanging vows? or would it end up with his body buried deep in the woods?
he forces himself to ignore those thoughts, for now he should stay focused on the moment. you look at him so sweetly, so earnestly, so he decides to trust your intentions with him for now.
"i'd love to see you in a beautiful dress," he says softly. 
“i would look pretty just for you.”
leon chuckles and squeezes your hand again, it's funny how he can go from fearing you to becoming utterly enamored with you in a matter of moments.
"i have no doubts about that, sweetheart," he replies, "now come here."
you smile as you lean in to kiss him again, hands finally resuming their movements to get into his underwear.
leon lets out a soft groan, his muscles tensing as he feels your hands slip through the fabric of his underwear, pulling out his cock for you to play with, or so he assumes you’ll do. you play with it like it’s a toy, something you can just have fun messing with while he sleeps or before you fuck him. he uses the verbage of ‘you fucking him’ because this is in no way him fucking you… even if it’s his dick. at some point that dick attached to his pelvis became yours.. 
he wraps his arms tightly around your waist as you begin to caress him. he's just so vulnerable to you, he's yours in every aspect of the word, physically and emotionally. yours, yours, yours.
"i'll be gentle, i promise. i'm just gonna stroke your cock, nice and slow.." you murmur. your touch is warm but teasing, and when you notice the tension in his body, you can't help but giggle, "i can't go too quickly just yet.. can't make you feel too much too soon."
leon chuckles softly, a part of him enjoying this teasing routine. he knows that eventually you'll give him what he wants, so he doesn’t mind waiting. whatever his girl wants, she gets.
"i know" he says panting slightly, "just take your time, princess..."
it's just so hard not to adore him, so malleable and soft, you could mold him into anything you want.
leon's eyes are starting to get hazy, his breath hitching in his throat and his body trembling. your touch is so delicate yet so powerful, it's making his entire body quiver. he’s not even on the edge but he feels like he is. both of your hands jerk him off so slow and sensual, and he knows the only reason they’re moving so smoothing is because your hands still have wet blood on them… which means you’re practically using that guy’s blood as lube and… this is so fucked up. you are so fucked up. you are awful and he can’t wait to make you his wife.
leon’s not necessarily the most submissive man alive, but he does listen well and you always get what you want, so take that as you will. he's always been so easy to mold into whatever you want him to be. he's followed along like a loyal dog, doing everything you ask of him. he's done such despicable things in your name, knowing that at the end of the day, you'll love him enough to keep him by your side.
he feels your thumb massaging his tip and he suppresses a nervous whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he takes in the feeling of your touch. you’re too much of a tease, but leon is patient.
“promise that you’ll always stay with me, lee. promise that you’ll never leave,” you whisper. he doesn’t know why you expect such a deep answer from him when his brain is becoming more and more mushy by the second.
“i promise," he whispers back, still panting slightly from pleasure. “i'm never going to leave you. i'll stay by your side for as long as we're alive. i'll never stop protecting you, loving you"
“i will sink my claws into you and never let you leave,” you growl.
he leans his head back against the chair again, a smile creeping on his lips as he lets out a shuddering breath. "i'm all yours, princess, and i have no desire to be anyone else's."
just as he starts to get close to the edge, riding the fine line of pleasure, you pull your hands away from him. you feel bad for denying him, but you're only doing it so you both can finish together. leon lets out a soft shiver as you tug your hands away, your teasing just making him more and more desperate.
he lets out a tense, groaning sigh as you pull your hands away, a small whimper escaping his lips as you did so. he's so close, but you're not quite ready to let him cum yet.
leon tries his best not to show his disappointment, the build up has been intense and it's frustrating to feel himself denied, but he knows you love it. you love making him desperate, making him beg.
he concedes: this is what you like, so it’s what he likes. 
but his disappointment is quickly brushed away as you get up off of him to take off your beautiful bloody dress, and your undergarments too. for all of the blood on your face, neck, chest, and arms, the rest of you is mostly untouched, and he finds the difference rather amusing. your stomach and thighs look so soft and innocent.
he gazes at you lustfully as you remove your clothes, his breath catching in his throat as he stares at your naked body. he can’t think, can’t breathe, his eyes going everywhere they’re not supposed to. he can only try so hard to be a gentleman. 
"you.. are going to make me your wife," you say, voice carrying an air of certainty. you are not suggesting. you are telling him what's going to happen, and he will obviously obey, “you’ll buy me a pretty ring. nothing expensive, don’t waste your money on something stupid like a diamond. and you’ll take me on a beautiful honeymoon, and we’ll spend every moment of those days together just fucking like rabbits. understood?”
marriage was never something he considered until you called yourself his ‘pretty little wife’ to be honest, but with the way you're demanding it now... it's something he'd easily give in to, "okay" he finally manages to whisper back, "anything for my beautiful wife."
you smile gently, settling back onto his lap, pussy aching for the cock in front of you, so desperate to fill you up, “you ready, baby?” you ask.
leon nods, his eyes fluttering briefly at your words, “yeah, i'm ready," he mumbles, his breath already short and his heart beating so hard he's surprised that you can't hear it.
you slide him inside, giving yourself a moment to adjust. leon can't help but find the slight discomfort in your face cute.
you moan gently, resting your hands on his shoulders, "o-oh, ah..."
he can hear every soft sound and breath that escapes your lips as you begin to move, and he can't help but let out a soft groan as well. his hands grip tightly around you, tightening every time you moan or gasp.
leon holds onto you for dear life, he knows he's already so close to finishing, he could really blow any second, but the longer this goes, the longer this moment lasts, the more intense it gets. you’re going to kill him one of these days. 
"l-lee.." you gasp, hips rocking back and forth, almost circular motions.
"oh god.. baby..." he lets out a tense moan as you ride him, movements gentle but somehow still so overwhelming.  his fingertips dig into your shoulders as he tries to keep himself restrained, but he's at the very edge of his control.
every movement sends a jolt through his body, his muscles flexing and releasing with everything he's got to keep himself from finishing before you.
“leon…” you groan again, and he never really realizes the effect he has on you until your body is trembling as you ride his cock. your voice isn’t quite begging, but he almost hears it like that. it sounds like a love confession wrapped up in his name. he doesn’t see it until all of your defenses are down, but you love him so helplessly that it must be scary. 
god, he wants to hold you in his arms forever and never let you go. protect his serial killer for the rest of her days.
he lets out another tense, breathy moan as you start to move even faster, you're pushing him to the limit. every sensation that he feels is so intense, he can hardly handle it, it takes every ounce of self-discipline in his body to keep himself from finishing early, but that’s what you get for edging him right before. you put him at a huge disadvantage.
“wait for me..” you whisper, “wanna cum with you..”
he nods his head, his eyes squeezed shut as a trembling breath escapes from his lips. he's trying his hardest to wait for you to finish, the urges and sensations within him are overwhelming and he feels as though he might explode at any moment.
and he does unfortunately, just a moment early, but it kick-starts your orgasm so for the most part, you’re both gasping and moaning and breathing fast and shaky and helpless together, hands grasping at any skin they can reach as you’re pulled ever closer to him. he sticks his head into the crook of your neck as your pretty pussy squeezes around him. he feels breathless and helpless, holding you like he’d die without you. he feels your heavy breath and your hands tightly gripping him, you must be completely gone, orgasm hitting you in waves that squeeze every drop of cum out of him.
you’re his, he realizes. completely, utterly his. you need him. you can’t go on without leon and there is nothing more pleasing than being your lifeline. your face makes that cute little pout, dried bloody fingers making his shoulders red, but this time it might just be his blood. your nails are digging into him, but he can’t blame you. you’re too lost in pleasure to realize what you’re doing.
once you both start to slow and calm down, breathing returning to a more normal pace, you lean down to rest your head on his chest. 
after a moment, you ask him, “are you really gonna marry me?”
“mhm,” he hums, fingers brushing against your head, licking his thumb to try and rub off the dried blood on your forehead, “i'll get you a ring and get down on one knee and everything.”
“what will our wedding be like?”
“whatever you want, princess,” he closes his eyes, “i don't have a single care in the world about what flowers you pick or if you want to invite people or if you just want it to be us two and an officiant in the empty wedding chapel. i just want to call you my wife. my sweet, pretty wife. my girl. my only love.”
you giggle, nuzzling closer into his chest, “detective kennedy. my husband,” you grin cutely, “my leon. mine.”
burgundy drips from his fingertips as he brushes them against your cheek, “yours.”
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moonrisecoeur · 1 month
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thoughts on this post aka detective leon and serial killer reader. warning for dark content obvi, mentions of weapons, blood, bodies, murder. also sub leon makes an appearance as usual lol. fem!reader too!!
sorry for the wait lol i’ve been folding laundry anyway let me cook
you know that fucking cop is onto you, he knows more than you want him to but for some reason, even when you know you’ve messed up and are sure you’re gonna be caught, you’re not. no one knows about the evidence you accidentally left behind, clues that trace back to you. when you go back to try and ruin the crime scene to throw the police off the scent, it’s all gone. just a dead body and all of the blood you love to spill.
it bugs you a little bit. where did it go? but you watch as the cops search the crime, hiding in the bushes behind the house when you see the cop you… you just know is the one who did it. he looks like he’s seen that crime scene already, and there’s something bunched into his pocket. that looks almost like your glove that got caught on something and left behind as you were escaping.
you realize he’s looking you dead in the eyes as you make painfully awkward eye contact with him. he smirks and looks away. you wonder why he isn’t telling his colleagues about how he saw you, you wonder why he seems almost amused by you. it’s driving you mad.
you’ve seen him before. you recognize him now. you don’t know his name, but he’s got blonde hair, long enough to cover his blue eyes. looks like a doll. he’s a detective, always showing up to crime scenes in those pretty, expensive suits. he wears a nice watch, cleans himself up well.
you get your hands on his file, all of his records, the time he spent as a patrol officer, back when he was younger. his hair was shorter then. his eyes a bit brighter. he was cute. and now… he’s much more than that. he’s distinguished.
leon saw you once, before you could run out when you realized the cops were coming in. he remembers how you looked. bloody, gloved hands holding a kitchen knife. you didn’t see him, but he saw you. he sees you again in the bushes, and you see him this time. it’s a moment where everything stops, and leon feels his dead heart pitter pattering like it hasn’t done in years.
you kinda lose the light in your soul when you become a detective. he’s more somber now than he was when he was on patrol, but what can you do?
he finds out everything he can about you, cross referencing the evidence he finds that everyone else seems to miss with every little thing he can gather, in hopes of figuring out your name, or anything about you, honestly.
he’s come to the conclusion that your sloppiness is caused from the pleasure you take in killing. you leave too much evidence behind, too many clues, christ it’s like you want to be caught, but leon can’t help but be fond of you now that you’re intentionally leaving clues for him to find. little messages like ‘for my favorite detective, ♡’ on notecards next to the body. no one knows what you mean. leon’s becoming more obsessed by the minute.
he’s learned everything about you, every motive, every killing, why, when, how you did it all, and his coworkers know nothing. they’re not even sure how many you’ve killed, much less know anything about you.
it’s betraying his morals, sure, but who really cares? he’s killed people before, he’s no better than you. sure, he tried to convince himself he did it to protect the innocent, but he’s got his own thirst for blood. can’t really blame you for doing for fun what he does for work. you lose your morals anyway when you’re a detective.
he covers for you, gives excuses and ideas to lead the other detectives in the wrong direction. destroys evidence for you. lies for you. he’s desperate for you attention, and he finally gets it when you come into the police station.
you’re not disguised, not dressed to hide your identity. you look.. normal. you smile at the person working the front desk. you’re polite, charming, courteous. leon almost passes you by before double taking and realizing that it’s you.
“well, hello, it’s nice to meet you, detective kennedy,” you smile, reaching out your hand for him to shake, which he does awkwardly. you realize that he’s a lot less cool than he seemed when you first saw him. his lack of social skill is almost charming.
“are you… what are you doing here? are you turning yourself in o-or something?”
“i wanted to see you,” you say simply to him.
he blinks, confused.
“do you want to speak with me? or should i just go, detective?”
“i.. i think we should talk,” he smiles back eventually, “i want to talk to you. really talk.”
you meet him later, after his shift. you tell him your story, your motives. even though he knows them, he lets you talk. he likes listening to you. he tells you about his work, what he’s done to protect you, and when you ask why, he shrugs, “you’re too pretty for prison.” he matches your bluntness.
it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing, amused by leon kennedy’s mind, how his brain even works.
he continues, “but listen, if you’re gonna keep… you know, killing people, you need to run it by me after the fact. i need to get there and make sure there’s no evidence that other detectives will find. don’t worry, i’ll get you a burner phone and everything. just call me when you do it. i’ll help.”
“hmm.. alright. now.. do i owe you anything for your.. protection, detective? should i.. show you how appreciative i am that you’re helping me get away with murder?” you lean in close, suggestively. leon can’t help that he’s easy to seduce.
“i.. i think you don’t owe me anything, but.. if you’d like..” he stutters. you smile. he’s so cute to play with.
he takes you back to his place. you tell him he wouldn’t like yours, with the victim you have tied to a chair in your bedroom. he raises an eyebrow, and you try to calm his worries by saying, “its fine, i drugged him so he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow… do you wanna watch me torture him?”
“i’m… okay, baby,” he says, his voice gravelly and soft at the same time.
you hook up obviously when you get back to his apartment, and it’s the best sex of his life. maybe it’s because he likes dominant women already, but there might also be something thrilling about a woman putting her hands around his throat who’s very well capable of squeezing until he stopped breathing entirely.
thankfully, you don’t asphyxiate him. you lay in his bed with him afterwards, and there’s something so strangely normal about the way you curl up into his side as he draws shapes on your back with his fingertips.
“are you ever.. gonna kill me?” he asks, out of the blue, stirring you from your drowsy state.
you look up at him, and he’s worried you’re considering it. there’s a gun on his nightstand. he panics. you would never get away with it, he’s sure. your dna is all over his body, his clothes, his apartment, surely you’re not that sloppy of a killers.
“i haven’t decided yet,” you say simply, resting your head on his chest.
“o-oh…”
you chuckle, sensing anxiety and tension in his body at your response to his question, “i would only ever do it if i thought you were gonna betray me or something, pinky promise. no matter how… beautiful you would look dying..”
he gulps, and you feel endeared by his fear. he’s.. cute when he’s nervous.
the next day, he wakes up. he puts on another suit, and another fancy watch. he drives you home before he goes to work, and he kisses your forehead before he gets back into his car, “am i gonna be seeing you again tonight?” he asks.
you chuckle, “i’m counting on it, handsome. trust me when i say i look very good in red.”
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moonrisecoeur · 6 months
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content warning for dubcon/borderline noncon (consent is always mandatory in real life)
different scenario of best friend!leon where he’s crying and curled up against you and you just can’t help but want to take him from his girlfriend, whether or not be lets you. their argument wasn’t going to end their relationship, but he’ll never be able to look her in the eye after this <3
he whimpers loudly and pathetically as he cries. i just know he does. he’s crying over something stupid she did that he’ll eventually get over, but if you’re being honest? it would be so easy to take advantage of him.
you start out by pressing very very light kisses to his shoulder over his shirt. he doesn’t even notice, but something about him not noticing makes it even hotter. and then your lips hover on his neck, hot breath on his skin should be something that catches his attention, but it doesn’t. not even when you start to kiss his neck, until you get a little too cocky and your teeth graze against his skin.
“what… what are.. you doing?” he stutters, asking nervously, suddenly realizing that he’s not in the right headspace for this. he’s not completely sober, he’s emotionally distraught, he’s crying and sobbing into your shoulder, ruining your pretty shirt, yet you’re… kissing his neck.
“accident, sorry,” you say quickly, trying to prove your innocence, but your hand on his waist feels anything but innocent. even after you apologize, claim you didn’t mean to, you leave another soft kiss on his neck. this time, you physically feel him and hear the beautiful sound of him whining, as if crying out and begging you to keep going. you know that’s not what means. that doesn’t really matter.
he feels his heart pounding in his chest, “but my-my girlfriend… i don’t… i’m not just going to…”
“you’re not doing anything wrong, she doesn’t have to know,” you whisper as you press your lips to his jaw, hanging slightly open, “you can just let me keep going… i’ll make you feel good when she can’t, when she won’t.”
he feels the need to fight back a little more, say something like she’s my girlfriend and i can’t just do that to her. but he doesn’t feel fully in control of himself either. maybe it was the alcohol he drank earlier from the bar with his cop buddies. maybe it’s the way he didn’t realize your hand is down his pants until you were stroking his cock through them. maybe it’s something else.
maybe he liked you? he didn’t really know. he kinda liked you before he had a girlfriend, but thought you didn’t want him like that. his current girlfriend was someone new, and he just fell for her charms because she was remarkably forward and bold, always touching his leg, running her fingers through his hair, telling him how handsome and attractive he was, etc. leon was helpless in falling for her.
“can i kiss you?” you ask, bringing him out of his thoughts. the question is startling, and it’s a big decision to make.
if he doesn’t let you, he’s scared of what might happen. will you leave him? will you kick him out and leave him no where to run to like the lost puppy he’d be?
if he does let you, what does that make him? a cheater?he didn’t really want to cheat on his girlfriend, but you’re just so… convincing. and he’s not in a state where he’d need a lot do it. what would it make you? the home-wrecker? would his girlfriend hate you for it? would she hate him? should she?
his girlfriend is so passive, yet so demanding. she’ll give nothing and take everything leon has to give, and he keeps giving just to keep her satisfied. leon wonders if you’d be any different.
leon has thought about kissing you before. he’s thought about a lot worse, actually, but tried to pretend he didn’t because you weren’t his and he wasn’t allowed to think about his friend like that. but he has. he imagines your soft lips, sticky with the lip gloss he knows you like to wear. he knows it would taste like strawberries if he could just…
“yeah,” he finally decides, “you can kiss me… please… uhm, kiss me, please.”
you smile softly and nod, acknowledging your victory, before leaning in. it’s everything he thought it would be and more. he tries not to compare you to his girlfriend or her to you, but he can’t help but think you’re a million times better.
he could list off the reasons why he likes kissing you more, but he’d say the main one is how you’re giving and taking with balance, letting him touch your face gently while also resting a hand on the back of his neck. your hand down his sweats releases him and just holds his waist while he holds onto you the same. he doesn’t feel empty as he gives you his all but he doesn’t feel smothered with the intensity he knows is locked inside. he’s looking for the key.
he moans at the taste of your lip gloss, and yes, your lips are just as delicious as he imagined. he can’t bear to let you pull away, holding the collar of your shirt when you try to to keep you in kissing distance. not that you mind, you just didn’t expect leon to be so desperate so fast.
“i’m… i’m not… i’m not a bad person right?” he breathes heavily as he finally lets you pull away, and his moral conscious starts to come back to him, “our argument was so dumb, a-and i… i still couldn’t… maybe we should stop.”
“oh, sweetheart,” you mumble gently, pressing your fingers into the soft skin of his waist, while your free hand traces the lines of his face. he still can’t stop blushing, “you can’t just leave me like this. can’t just kiss me and then expect me to not get addicted, pretty boy.”
well that name was new. he certainly was not called that by his girlfriend, “i don’t.. i can’t do this to her. a kiss was bad enough, but if we… go all the way… i can’t do that.”
your hand on his waist drops down to caress his thigh, moving up closer and closer. whether or not leon admits it and lets you do anything, he’s needy. he’s extremely turned on, his body practically begging you to touch him.
“no, wait, stop, i- i know you- you’re trying to help, and i- i appreciate it! but, please, i can’t do this to her.”
but his body betrays him as he lets out a moan, his voice breaking, and his hand grasps your arm for support. he throws his head back as you finally touch his aching cock, gulping nervously.
“please, i don’t want to hurt her, this is so.. this is wrong. you need to stop, i need to go—”
and that’s when you look up at him, baby blues staring back at you helplessly. he’s begging you to keep going. he’s also begging for you to stop. he’s confused too, if it helps. you narrow your eyes at him, “and go where? you already betrayed your girlfriend by making out with me and letting me touch your cute n pretty cock, baby. you can’t go back to her.”
and when he opens his mouth to defend himself, you stick your index and middle finger into it instead, “suck, baby,” you murmur to him, and he moans as he complies. for someone so resistant and not giving in to what he knows he wants, he’s oddly obedient.
“she doesn’t want you anymore, now that you’ve cheated on her,” you say like it’s a simple fact. like that the grass is green and the sky is blue, “you’re just a pretty little toy now, aren’t you?
he’s breathing raggedly as your soft touches become full strokes. his body is tense as he shakes his head, “no, fuck, please, i-i know we’re friends but this isn’t okay, please…”
“shhh, don’t cry, sweet boy,” you whisper as you notice the tears in his eyes. you lean in to kiss him, suddenly less soft and sweet like strawberries, but now his sobs feel visceral as he moans in your mouth, his ragged breaths cutting of the kiss before you pull him tighter to keep it going.
when you pull away, he looks soft, vulnerable, dazed.
“fuck, leon..” you mumble, pressing kisses to his shoulder, “if you keep looking at me like that, i’ll have no choice to do this to you every day, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
he stutters, briefly imagining a reality where he spent all his days being kissed and touched and loved by you. he doesn’t hate it, “n-no! i… i mean kind of, yes, i don’t.. i like it, it’s just… i’m with her, i can’t.. i can’t be doing this with you.”
his insistence of putting up this wall between the two of you is getting tiring, so you up your game. you lean in to press soft kisses to his neck, enjoying his heavy breaths and the little sounds that escape his throat when your lips are on him.
“please don’t, i… my girlfriend is—” his voice sounds strained, like he’s using all of his effort to keep himself contained and controlled.
“doesn’t fucking matter anymore. all that matters is that i want you. and i will get what i want, leon, won’t i? i always get what i want.”
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moonrisecoeur · 6 months
Text
sub!leon x gn!reader short blurb <3 mentions of cnc!! pls be careful with what u read!! >,<
"baby..." you murmur, slowing down your movements as you catch a sob escape from his throat. you worry for a moment that you barely noticed it, and tragically wonder what would have happened if you didn't. you try not to dwell on that outcome.
he shakes his head, begging you to not bring attention to the fact that he was about to cry. he doesn’t want to talk about it. he can’t.
but you have to try, "leon, baby, hey... it's okay, just let it out. it's okay. you're safe with me," you mumble against his forehead, pressing soft kisses to his temple to distract him from his emotions.
part of him imagines something that won’t happen. you using him like this, taking his body as is and doing whatever you want with him, to him. he's too defenseless and vulnerable to stop you. he truly couldn’t stop you from violating him, and he revels in that helplessness. he wants to feel it. he wants to see more than just the soft, authoritative dominant side of you. he wants you to be bad, evil, horrible to him. he wants to see your cruelness. to just let you do just terrible things to him. he wants it so damn bad.
but part of him relaxes as you hold him, assuring that he's okay, that he's safe with you. he believes you, believes he's safe to feel these emotions. and once he's not so overwhelmed, maybe you'll fuck his brains out and make all those bad thoughts go away.
let me know if i should make this a full fic <33
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moonrisecoeur · 1 month
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carnage — leon kennedy
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author’s note: this is a secondary piece to apathy, another fic of mine!! that fic was mostly a vent fic, as i wrote it to kinda soothe myself and my own worries about how i feel as a person. however!! this fic was requested to be significantly darker and sadder, so if you don’t vibe with that, then i have good news for u !! leon and reader actually lived happily ever after in that universe!! the original intent of that fic is that the reader just has the self perception of a bad person but is actually not at all!! but this fic… is not that haha.. 
author’s note: if you see typos, no you don’t. they’re not real. this fic is... really messy. i'm kinda ashamed but i've been working on it so long that i need to just post it lol.
word count: 5.3k 
content: leon x reader, sub!leon, dom!fem!reader, angst angst angst, biting, hickieys, riding, choking, leon gets lightheaded and passes out, violent language. there's also a reference to a scene from apathy but from more of leon's recollection and memory! :)
warning: this fic is dark content, containing the topics and depictions of emotional abuse, manipulation, love-bombing ish, narcissistic reader, along with dubcon as reader doesn’t listen when leon expresses a boundary around choking. 
notes:
“you’re killing me here,” he says, a soft tone to his gravel-like voice. he is tired, exasperated. you are ripping him apart, stealing any sense of joy from his aching soul. he gives and gives and gives and he doesn’t know how much longer he has in him before you…  before maybe he admits that you were right. maybe you would ruin him.
you don’t know the half of it, you think. maybe i will really kill you one of these days.
leon is growing.. tired of you. 
not really. that’s a lie. he loves you dearly, so much that it kills him. you refuse to open up to him and he respects your boundaries. he just can’t keep begging you to let him in. he can’t do this forever. 
he’s not mad that you’re closed off, that you’re a loner and you’re introverted. he accepts you for what you are. he loves you regardless, but can’t you see this hurts him? can’t you at least make an attempt to make him feel better? pushing him away only hurts him, and why did you agree to a relationship if you knew that all you were going to do is hurt him? 
he supposes you warned him. that beautiful night that he convinced you to let him stay in your heart. he looks back at that moment, how you looked close to tears, pushing him back, telling him that you’ll ruin him and anything else you touch, and all he could think about is how badly he wanted to kiss you, to hold you close and wipe away the tears of frustration. he’s fond of that moment, when you decided to stay with him. when you said you’d take your time, move slowly, but you’d eventually let him in. he just had to be patient.
but its been months, and leon hates being wrong, but he might have been that night. 
leon’s always seen the good in you. he admires how gentle and sweet you are. you say it’s just a facade, and you know what? he doesn’t believe you. he knows you’re trying to protect yourself, but you’re lying. the version of you that you think is the real you is actually the facade. he knows it. he believes it, believes in you.
“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?” you said to him that night, and he just shook his head, smiling. he adores you, almost amused at how you were making yourself out to be an awful monster in hopes he’d have understood that he could never fix you.
“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he said, and then followed it up with a whisper, under his breath, one you might not have heard, “i will let you ruin me.”
your touch is lethal, that much he’s certain of. he knows you’re not trying to hurt him, he’s convinced it's not in your nature to be intentionally cruel, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”
but what was he supposed to do? listen to you? heed your warning? he’s too foolish, too lovesick.
“it’s okay,” he reassures, reciprocating your harsh touch with his gentle one, fingertips making acquaintances with the way your skin feels in his grasp, the warmth of your touch. he’s starting to feel like this beautiful monster in front of him is a lot more human than she feels, “i like you as you are.”
-
leon doesn’t quite remember when you got so overbearingly possessive. maybe you were a little controlling, a little too demanding. it didn’t really make sense because anytime he tried to be possessive over you, you hated it. you certainly weren’t clingy. leon learned to control the instinct, the one that screamed in his head that you were his.  he gets it. you’re independent, not exactly into the jealous boyfriend type, sure. it only hurts his ego a little bit. 
he doesn’t really even remember when your behavior started going downhill. it was just like.. one day, he woke up, and you had left. not actually, you were just outside, but it feels symbolic somehow. he calls your name, and you don’t answer. he takes a couple steps closer, but he gets this eerie feeling he’s stepping into dangerous territory. he wonders if he should turn back, give you some time and let your soul come back to your body. 
“i don’t love you,” you said to him that day. 
it shattered him momentarily, but he knew your ways. he was aware of how you act and talk, your bluntness didn’t even surprise him anymore. he learned not to try and fight you on this stuff anymore.
that’s not true.. is what he wanted to say.
“…since when?” is what he actually ended up saying. 
you sigh, “i don’t know. i just woke up today and i realized i didn’t love you anymore.”
“do you… feel love for someone else?” he asks, but that’s not what he’s really asking. leon would never believe you if you said you cheated on him. you don’t even like people. you could count on your hand the amount of people you liked to talk to. 
leon maintains being one of them, of course. how could he believe that you made a connection with another man when you can only tolerate him? 
so, what he’s really asking is ‘do you… feel anything right now?’. sometimes emotions go away. sometimes you find yourself sitting outside in the early morning even though it’s cold and you’re shivering, wondering why you don’t love your boyfriend anymore. 
he puts his jacket over your shoulders. that feels symbolic somehow too.
it usually passes, but there’s something so final in your tone. like… for the first time, leon was worried you’re being truthful. he was worried you didn’t love him.
he had every reason to be. you used to pull away and then come right back to him, and now… you almost seem to resent him. crazy, it’s almost like you said this would happen. he hates that he was wrong about you, he hates that you were right. 
you flinch away when he touches you sometimes. your words are harsher than usual, more venomous, more lethal. you’re slipping away from him, you’re running away, and he’s begging for you to come back to him. just come back to him.
and even now, he looks at you and you aren’t the girl he fell in love with. but maybe you never changed. maybe he has just been blind. 
maybe you were exactly who you said you’d be. 
did you even want him? or would you get off anyway on taunting him?
did he mean anything to you?
-
“i am your… sculpture. your muse. i am everything you made me to be,” he says softly, one day during a vicious argument (only one of you is truly venomous), his eyes still red from the tears you made him spill, “if you do not like me, or if you don’t like what i’ve become, it is your own fault. i am only what you… did to me.”
he says pretty words that tug on your heartstrings if only to get some kind of empathy out of you. you’d normally scoff, spitting at him that he was a broken mess before you fixed him up, made him useful to somebody. 
“you act like i ruined you. like i made you worse. i did not drag you down with me. we were both broken. both disasters who just wanted to be loved,” you know you’re bullshitting just for pity points. doesn’t change the face that leon almost falters. almost gives in, lets you win. you were right, in a way. you were just being intentionally oblivious. 
“me wanting to be loved was… so much different. i wanted to be cherished and…held dear to you. you wanted a trophy that would make you feel better about yourself.”
“i am not the monster you say i am,” you scowl, finally he sees your harshness, your cruelty, and your dismissiveness in full force. how was he so blind?
“you’re right…” he says, “you… are so much worse.”
“then push me off of you, make me leave,” you groan, pinning him down like a caged animal. 
“i’m not… i..” i stutters, looking up the ceiling, “oh my god..”
“i am the only god you get to call out for,” you say as you press kisses to his collarbone, “i hold that power over you. i am your god.”
“i won’t worship you anymore,” he gasps, but his hands reach up to hold your hips, latching onto you for support and intimacy, like you are everything he’s ever needed and he despises you for it, “not what you’ve become. i can’t accept this…. version of you.”
“this is me, leon,” your voice is distant. resigned. he’s given up on you. and you’ve given up on him. 
so why do you demand his reverence so desperately? if you didn’t want him to run, why didn’t you treat him right in the first place?
“i love you, you know,” he says, tears pricking at his eyes, “i am just your design, molded to how you wanted me, but you designed me to love you… so that’s what i do.”
“i didn’t ask you to destroy yourself for me.”
“but i did anyway,” he closes his eyes, breathing ragged, “but i did and i did it because i loved you. i did it so that maybe one day you wouldn’t run away from me if i loved you too much. i.. i don’t act overbearing or clingy like i am inside because i am horrified of you leaving me. if i try too hard, if i want you too much, if am too desperate for your company… i will lose you. i can’t live with that.”
“then why do you call me worse than a monster? if you need me so badly?”
“because i..  i wanted you to destroy me and build me anew. recreate me in your image so you could have exactly what you wanted. make me exactly what you wanted!” he’s desperate for you to understand, but you never will. you don’t know desperation like he does, “i.. i just made the naive assumption that you would love your creation more than you loved what i used to be. that somehow.. if i let you ruin me, you’d finally love me.”
“i do love you,” you whisper, voice heavy with a tragedy you are all too familiar with.
“no… you don’t love anyone,” he bites, his teeth grazing his own lip like he would draw his own blood, “not even yourself. you’re incapable.”
“then it is your fault..” you say, cruelty laced into your voice, but how could you not be cruel when leon’s finally biting back? “you did this to yourself. you ruined yourself for someone you knew couldn’t love you.”
he feels broken. betrayed. how is this his fault? how could you hate him so intensely? how could you want him to suffer? do you enjoy watching him suffer? is that the only way he can make you happy anymore?
is that the only thing you want from him? his suffering? his tears?
does he give that to you? just… as one final way to make you happy? he’d ruin himself again and again to please you if you said so.
he’d give you anything.
you push him down, and he stumbles back onto the bed, looking up at you nervously. he notices the look in your eyes, the look of possession, you see him like an object or a toy. maybe he is. a trophy. you look at him like he’s something that makes you feel proud to carry around. leon kennedy. he’s a survivor, he's a killer, been through literal hell on earth. yet… your hands on him make him feel weak. he feels like he’s 21 again, on that bridge holding onto the last girl that dug her nails into his heart. 
“you’re fucking mine,” you growl in his ear, and he gasps and shudders, when did you get so close to him? you can’t put your hands on him like this, you can’t do this, his mind will go numb to the pain you cause and suddenly he’ll be held beneath you, inescapably yours. 
“you.. you need to… oh my god..” he was so close to saying it. so, so close. he tries so hard to push you away. to get you off of him. not in a way that he couldn’t stop you if he really didn’t want this. but that's just it; he’s trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want you for his own sake.
you make it so hard to hate you, truly. 
“you’re mine,” you growl in his ear, your nails digging into him like claws of a predator into its most delicious prey, “i own you. say that back to me.”
he cries like a baby, hating that he was naive enough to believe that the devil could love him, she could never love him and he could never please her enough to make her stay, “i’m yours, and.. and you own me,” he says, sniffling. he buries his head into the pillow. you push him, hold him down like he’s your captive. he might as well be. 
“and that means i own your pretty body, doesn’t it?” you smirk, god this control over him has always been addicting. you.. really own him.
“y-yeah..” 
“that means i can do whatever i want with you, doesn’t it? i can break you in every way possible, like a girl scribbling on and cutting the hair of her barbies. you don’t exist outside of me, outside of my pleasure.”
-
“fuck, you’re so hot when you’re sad..” you groan as you press kisses to his hip, and he didn’t even realize you had gotten his shirt off and his pants pulled down. he must have dissociated again. he sighs, upset but unable to will himself up to stop you.
at least you’re trying to please him, he supposes. your hands wandering all over him makes him feel alive, but he wonders if you’re imagining wrapping your hands around his throat and squeezing until he stops moving. maybe you would take a liking to killing. 
or maybe it’s just because it’s leon. leon is your weak, pathetic boyfriend that you’ll play with like a ken doll until you’re bored of him, and then you’ll either put him out of his misery or leave him to rot. maybe murder is mercy for him. the worst part is he looks just like a ken doll, blue eyes and blonde hair, except he’s a bit more broken. a bit scarred. damaged. is that why you don’t want him? he’s not perfect enough?
and then it happens. 
everything stops, his breath catches in his chest, he flinches almost like he’s surprised you still had it in you, but you kiss him. it’s not possessive and dark and commanding like he expects, like he’s begun to tolerate, but it’s you. it’s your softness, hidden underneath, that gentle lover that he misses so desperately. she’s back. she’s real again. 
you rest your forehead against his as you pull away from the kiss, leon chasing your lips briefly before remembering this is your moment, at your pace, but he’s looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky, his eyes sparkling with magic and passion and hope he hasn’t felt in a while. 
“come back to me..” he whispers gently, “i miss you.”
“i.. know,” you frown, and leon can tell you feel guilty. you are the monster in his nightmares, but you are also his guardian angel, “i told you, leon-”
“i know you did, i- i don’t want to fight with you right now,” his eyes flutter closed as you press your lips to his forehead, god he feels so cared for in moments like these.
but he knows they’re not real. he knows this version of you isn’t real, that your love is a false pretense and he is a fool for being swept off his feet by such an obvious facade. a monster that loves you is still a monster.
and leon knows it. knows that you love him, despite his insecurities and doubts. maybe it was safer or easier to ponder whether or not you loved him, to listen to you when you said you didn’t, instead of realizing that you did… just not enough.
he feels your grasp on his waist, the way your hands and mouth ravage his body. he knows you’re possessive, but it still shocks him how truly cruel you are. 
“please…” he whimpers, “be gentle with me..”
“ah, leon.. survived the apocalypse but can’t handle his girlfriend biting him a little too hard..” you chuckle, and it’s soft and you’re being sweet with him again and everything is okay. 
“don’t be like that, come on. it still hurts,” his voice is shaky, making you smile. such a sadist.
“don’t be such a baby,” you tease.
“just- okay, fine, but i don’t want any hickies or bite marks or anything. n-not anywhere visible, at least,” he stumbles when your fingertips drag across his collarbone, “please, baby. i need to hide them, my… my coworkers will get worried.”
he sees it in your eyes. mercy. begging always saved him.
“hmm… open your mouth,” you say, and he’s not even trying to follow the command, but the surprises causes his jaw to drop slightly, and you lean closer, before spitting directly into his mouth. 
your saliva tastes like your favorite flavor of gum, and leon smiles as he recollects that fact. it’s sweet of you to only do something like that to him when it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant. maybe you didn’t think it out that far, but he likes to think you did. he wants to think you were considerate. he groans as he swallows it without even having to ask, almost sounding dehydrated, like you are his lifeline. 
your intentions, while a tad bit humiliating, are not cruel. but again, you’re showing possession. leon is yours to do whatever you please with. it’s marking your territory, in a way.
“thank you..” he shudders, hands clutching your arms, keeping you close. he’s not truly grateful, but he’s learned his place. 
“you’re welcome,” your tone is condescending, but leon’s thoughts are too far away to realize that. all he knows how to do anymore is be obedient.
a brief silence settles for a moment, as you rest atop of him, gazing at him like a predator does their next meal. 
“do you… want to fuck me now?” he asks awkwardly, cringing at how completely uncool he is. 
maybe someone else would laugh at his lack of charisma, but you just smile softly. 
“is that what you want?” in truth, he does want this. he does want you. and he prides himself on giving you whatever you want, everything, absolutely anything. it’s too bad all you know how to do is take.
he sighs, feeling heavy-hearted and drained. he can’t pinpoint why, “i love you. do whatever you want.”
you blink, and he wonders for a moment if you feel guilty again, but part of him can tell you’re not.
you narrow your eyes. he seems.. broken down by this point. honestly, ‘broken down’ might not exactly be the right wording. ‘broken in’ might be more appropriate. like a pair of boots that are only comfortable once you rough them up a little. 
it’s at that moment that he realizes the softness he saw in you just now is fading away rapidly, replaced again by the monstrous beast that is his darling lover. at least she’s familiar now. it’s his fault. you are exactly who you said you were. he should have believed you. 
he thinks this is it, that this is the last time he’ll get to have you before you leave him. you steal all of his sunshine like a parasite, robbing him of all of his life energy and taking it for yourself. the only way you can feel whole anymore is to take leon apart and use him for everything his mortal body and soul has to offer. 
he remembers being the light in your life, cheering you up when you were down. you were his moon, and he shined his light onto you like the sunlight gives way to moonlight. 
but that isn’t real anymore. you aren’t the damaged but loving person he used to know. 
“are you… going to leave after?” he asks. he’s pouting ever so slightly but he doesn’t realize it.
you just gaze at him, eyes soft but knowing, and he can’t help but crying. he tries so hard not to be clingy or ‘too much’. makes himself less and less to make you comfortable. 
“please don’t leave me,” he cries, “please, i can’t bear to think about it. my… my love, please..”
part of him feels like if he lets you leave again, you won’t ever come back.
he can’t understand why he’s so desperate for you to stay. he feels your hand around his neck as you lean in close to kiss his shoulder, you don’t squeeze but your presence is known and feared just like you like it, your other hand falling lower and lower until… 
leon can’t fathom just how wrong he was about you, about everything in general, but what hurts the most is putting the timeline together. it starts with him realizing he loved you. you realizing you loved him. the gentle, sweet months he got to spend with you. sure, you were unconventional, but he’s not the nuclear family type either. 
to him realizing you didn’t love him, actually. 
to then realizing that you did love him, but not enough to change for him. that one hurt the most.  knowing that you’ll always choose your comfort over him.
and to finally coming to terms with the fact that your love is strong and real but it is rotten, that you and your heart are corrupting him and made something tragic out of him. 
he sighs, letting it all happen. he might as well let you have what you want. he feels your hand rubbing against the fabric of his pants over his crotch, teasing him. 
he’s almost happy you’re using him one last time for sex. it’ll give him something to distract his mind from the sadness that’s creeping into his heart.
“i think… my boy needs to feel good.. so he can stop thinking sad thoughts..” your free hand pulls his sweats down and feel him up over his boxers, and he hates that he’s getting hard. that he likes this. he likes being taken by the big, bad monster.
he lets you touch him, lets you strip him down both metaphorically and physically, until he’s bare, a blank canvas ready to be ruined. he has literal scars from bites that drew blood, teeth bared into his skin like you’re trying to consume him alive. 
maybe you are.
this isn’t intimate sex between two lovers. this is carnage. this is ravaging, taking what is rightfully yours. it may not be violence in its usual form, but you are no less deadly. 
you really can’t help yourself when you have the urge to grab his throat, can you? hold his life in your hands, why don’t you?
he wants to make love to you, to hold you close like he used to, fuck you until your mind let go of its need to be in control, to be apathetic and composed and cold and just let you be the soft soul he knows is in there, fucking somewhere in there. 
instead of that, he gets something completely different. claiming. ownership. you mark your territory like an violent dog, biting and scratching and ruining him until everyone else in his life got the hint that he wasn’t allowed to play with anyone else. 
you’re violently possessive, that’s the only way he can put it. and even now, when he should be kissing you and moaning in your ear about how good you feel around his cock, how perfect you are for him, how he wants to be good for you, exactly what you want in your man, he.. can’t. 
all he can do is whine and whimper like an injured puppy. 
instead of kissing you, he’s begging for mercy. instead of making love to you, he’s lost in a daze of pain, mixed in with the pleasure of his cock buried inside of you. your teeth fucking hurt when you bite him like a damn vampire. just like the last time you were in a possessive mood, you bite him hard enough to make him bleed.
“i… i love you,” he whimpers after the fact, his voice is shaky like he’s desperate, “i love you but you’re… i don’t like it when you’re like this”
“who do you belong to?” you ask, suddenly. 
it feels unrelated, but even though leon’s eyebrows furrow at the question, he responds, like it’s an instinct, or rather more it’s a response he’s gives hundreds of times, “you. it’s.. always gonna be you.”
“… i love you too, you know. sometimes i think you don’t believe me,” rich coming from the ‘i don’t love anybody’ girl, he thinks, “but i do. i’m always gonna love you. you just don’t like the way i love you.”
“because the way you love me is killing me.”
“i’m not a killer. you asked me to let you in. this is the real me, leon. if you don’t like what you see… then don’t look.”
“i do but i-”
“you wish you were the exception to the rule. you want to be the reason i change. honestly, leon? i’ll never get better. and i told you that months ago, but you never listened. you thought you could fix me.”
“you aren’t broken,” he whispers.
“then why do you insist on changing me?” 
he scoffs, “that’s rich coming from you.” he knows you’ll get annoyed at him for his sass, but he can’t help it. you’re a violent hypocrite and he adores you, but he can’t ignore the irony of you feeling forced to change.
you tighten your grip on his neck, and he should have told you months ago but he hates being choked. brings up old memories that he’d rather not remember. he doesn’t really know why he lets you do it, why he tolerates it. maybe it’s because you seem so pleased to be in control of his life like that. he can’t afford to piss you off too much. you might like murder a little too much. 
“why do you insist on fixing me?” you ask again. loosing up your grip to let him talk.
“i… i never wanted to fix you. i just wanted you to love me. i wanted… to make you happy.”
he lets out the cutest gasp when you finally use your free hand to pull his cock free, not even bothering to pull his boxers down all the way.
“awh, you’re still so soft, baby. do you not want me?” you taunt him, and he quickly tries to reassure you, shaking his head. 
“n-no! i do! i want you, just.. just give me a second..” he stutters helplessly, but his voice gives out when you lean down to kiss his hip bone, and then your lips trail down lower and lower, adoring his thighs with the remnants of your lip gloss, “oh god…”
he’s pretty. pretty like a prey animal. 
you decide that maybe its not fair to him that he’s almost butt naked and you’re still fully clothed, so you undress too. leon appreciates that you do it to please him. 
“i… you’re so fucking pretty,” he whimpers, begging you to kiss him again. can he just pretend like you’re making love? instead of… whatever this is? 
his cock isn’t super big, so it’s not hard to fit inside, especially since he’s just barely getting hard. seeing your body was enough to get him going. he likes everything about you. every beauty mark or mole or freckle, every scar and each divot and curve, he adores you.
your smile isn’t appreciative. it is greedy. avaricious. you.. need more of him. 
“you feel… so perfect inside of me..” you groan, the grip on his neck tightening as he obediently rocks his hips up to fuck you. his hands grasp at the sheets, white knuckles displaying how tense he feels. 
a shaky, almost fearful moan escapes his throat, “please.. please don’t squeeze that hard.”
again, leon doesn’t like being choked.. so many times he’s almost been killed, and yet… you don’t seem to care. you don’t squeeze hard enough to make him pass out, but he’s getting lightheaded, so much so that you’re having to pick up the slack of bouncing on his cock since he’s unable to keep pace. he just lays there helplessly while you steal away his life.
“leon..” you tease, holding in a giggle, and trying to stir his attention, but his eyes get cloudy and he can’t focus on you, can’t look you in the eye meaningfully.
all he can respond with is a half-hearted attempt at a ‘huh?’. it’s honestly kind of cute how easily fucked out he gets. you ease up, and he breathes deeply for the first time in a couple minutes, gasping out ‘thank you’s like you just saved his life instead of almost killing him. 
“i’m sorry you got stuck with someone like me, baby,” you murmur, you’re not really sorry. tears fall down his cheeks, and you lean down to lick them up like a dog drinks her water. he cringes, disgusted at the feeling, but you own him so intrinsically.. how could he ever stop you from doing exactly what you wanted to him? this was your world. he just lived in it.
leon wakes up the next morning, expecting to be alone in your shared bedroom after you had left. you’re not completely awful, you clean him up and bandage any cuts after you finished with him… and leon realizes he doesn’t exactly remember anything after you choking him a little too aggressive, he must have passed out. did he cum even while unconscious? he’s almost impressed.
he doesn’t remember you leaving, just the looming thought in his mind that you will leave. there was no doubt about it.
you’re not there, clearly, and he doesn’t hear you anywhere in the bathroom or in the kitchen. the silence is deafening. 
maybe you’re on a walk to clear your head? 
maybe… you’re really gone.
but your stuff is still at home, so he thinks you might still stay. he cant decide if that’s a good thing. sure, he can’t exist without you, so codependent it’s pathetic, but… you’re not exactly good for him. maybe it’d do him some good to pull himself together and get over you. if he even can.
he loves you. helplessly. desperately. but you love his pain more than you love him. that’s the truth and there’s no denying that. you are.. exactly who you said you’d be. it’s his fault for not believing you.
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moonrisecoeur · 17 days
Text
refuge — ada wong
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author’s note: hi, hello, this is a piece i was really considering not posting. i know how resi tumblr feels about dark content and i didn’t want to subject myself to harassing anons or people commenting how gross and disgusting i am for enjoying writing and consuming content like this, but after some reassurance from a couple mutuals of mine, i decided to go ahead and post it. please read the longer author’s note at the end of this post if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts. also feel free to ignore it if u don’t care lol!!
tagging @xoxostarlet bc star's my hypegirl :3
wc: 5.5k
content: fem reader, dom reader, noncon, fingering, strap in v sex, possessive language, lots of pet names for ada (sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl, baby, etc), ada calls reader a bitch a couple times, ada and reader are partners during re4. 
warning: this is heavy dark content. this piece contains noncon, the r-word, somnophilia, and mentions of weapons (not in a sexual context). there is no implication that this is cnc or consensual in any way, please read with caution! if you don’t like it, just don’t read it!
no adas were harmed in the making of this fanfic and this is just fiction. 
notes:
as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions. 
you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing she’s still asleep, “i own this pussy now…”
final warning: this is rape, in which reader forces herself on ada while she sleeps. please heed the warning. i don’t know any other way to make this clearer other than...
DON’T READ THIS IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK CONTENT! 
“stay here, i’ll find us a way in,” ada says, and you’d be remiss not to believe her. if she says she can do something, then she can do it. don’t ever doubt her. 
she uses her grapple gun to get to the roof of the abandoned home, slingshotting herself into the air. she lands gracefully, of course, and finds an opening that leads her into the top floor bedroom. it’s got some decorations befitting for a young girl. it almost pulls at ada’s heart strings, but… she tries not to pay much mind to it all. it’s hard to not feel sympathetic to the people in this village, honestly. 
she walks down the stairs and unlocks the door to find you, standing there obediently as ever, “fancy seeing you here,” you mumble to her, and she rolls her eyes like you’re the biggest annoyance to her.
“we’ll stay here for the night until wesker can send a helicopter to get us out of here. the weather is too bad for a pilot to fly through right now,” she says, heels clacking against the floor as she makes her was to the master bedroom, gun in hand in case there were people she didn’t notice on her first check of the building. 
you follow behind her, shutting the front door and entering the bedroom on the ground floor. it’s nothing crazy fancy, but it’s nice and the bed is big and comfy looking. 
“because of the gaping hole in the roof, i wouldn’t recommend sleeping in the upstairs bedroom,” ada chuckles, but she almost seems shy. it’s odd for her, “and the living room couch looked too small for either of us when i checked so..”
“well.. we’re both girls, you know? i’ve had sleepovers before,” you tell her, and she scoffs looking away and looting drawers for anything she can find, “we’ll.. be stuck here all night. might as well get comfortable.”
“by all means, make yourself vulnerable to an attack. i couldn’t care less,” her voice is sharp but there’s a warning deep down that’s a little more palatable. ‘don’t let your guard down just yet’ is basically what she’s saying. 
you don’t heed the warning, though, shrugging off your gear and your jacket as you sit down on the bed. a couple minutes later, ada sits down next to you. you look up at her, and she seems off. maybe she’s not used to people blatantly trusting her like you do, but you’re her ally. you have shared interests and she has no ulterior motive. 
should she be wary of you? maybe? she’s not very sure, but she does like the way your eyes wander even though you try to be polite and not look at her in that kind of way. you’re respectful, and she admires that. even if she did want to watch you suffocate between her thighs. 
so she takes off her gear and boots too, leaving her just a pretty girl in a red dress and stockings. she seems.. softer, without all of her weapons and tactical pieces. and something about that softness drives you wild, leaves you aching for more, craving for more. 
ada doesn’t notice despite how observant she usually is.
“i think.. i’d like to go to sleep, honestly.” she hums, running her fingers through her black hair, “we should both get some rest. don’t want to have you shooting yourself in the foot tomorrow,” she chuckles to herself before getting up to stretch and laying down on the bed as you still sit on the other side. 
“sweet dreams,” your words are sarcastic but sweet, and ada doesn’t miss the double meaning.
“thanks,” ada is almost… quiet, in a way you've never seen her before. she's sitting next to you, not even hiding the fact that she trusts you. something you've never seen her do before, at least not this quickly. it's almost off-putting, honestly. 
as she gets up to stretch, you notice the way she moves. the way her dress shifts and rises as she walks, the little shift of her breasts as she stretches, and the way she looks at you. even something as simple as a stretch is... entrancing. ada is gorgeous, you know this, she knows this. 
but there’s something about this kind of moment, where she’s not even trying to get your attention or trying to pull you in. she just exists in a graceful, elegant way. 
your eyes wander over to her again as she lays on the bed, turning onto her side, facing you.
she's laying on her side, facing you and your eyes can't help but fall on her curves. you watch the way her body shifts slightly as she readjusts, the subtle movement of her chest as she settles. it's both enticing and frustrating because there’s nothing you can do with all of these feelings of attraction to her. a part of you wants to do something, to make yourself known to her, but you know that it's too soon. you have to move slowly with ada, but moving slowly is growing tiring. 
"let me look for a blanket for you," you say as you look around, "don't try to tell me you don't need it. it's cold out."
"i don't need it, really." ada says with a soft chuckle, shifting her position slightly, “don’t waste your time."
she's being stubborn about something as simple as a blanket, but that's just her personality. ada is stubborn to the core, and even the slightest amount of advice sets her off. that's just how she is, and you've gotten used to it.
ada isn’t used to people trying to take care of her.
"ada," your eyes come back to ada, glancing at her almost patronizingly
ada rolls her eyes at your gaze, shifting her attention away from you and back to the ceiling. she seems... irritated? not at you necessarily, but at the fact you aren't listening to her.
"i'm fine, i promise." the tone of her voice sounds just a slight bit annoyed as well, as if this conversation was really tiring for her. she keeps moving her eyes away from you, unwilling to make eye contact.
you're a little confused. is she really fine? or is she just being stubborn?
"you're cold, ada. i can see that."
ada keeps staring up at the ceiling, but eventually she looks over at you with a soft sigh.
"i'm... fine." she says again, her tone softening just a bit once she realizes there's really no point in fighting about this.
you find one in the cabinet in the hallway and come back to the bedroom where she's at, "here," you say, laying it over her.
ada's eyes shift to you for a brief moment as you place the blanket on her, but she soon turns her head away. her body shifts slightly, and she wraps her arms around the blanket in a gentle grip. she isn't saying anything about it, but you can see that she's relaxed a bit, no longer shivering in her dress.
her eyes are soft, almost... grateful.
"you should stop trying to fight me when i try to help you," you smile as you gaze down at her.
"i'm not... fighting you." ada responds softly, still not facing you. instead, she keeps her arms wrapped around the blanket, refusing to give in to the fact that you're right.
in a way, it's adorable seeing her so stubborn about something like this.
"mhm, whatever. just go to sleep," you say, walking over to the desk in the corner.
she shifts her body once again, now facing away from you entirely as she cuddles in the blanket, secretly grateful for your tender care. you can see her closing her eyes softly as she tries to fall asleep, her breath slowing down as she tries to relax.
she really isn't fighting you anymore, she's letting you get your way. not only that, but she's accepting your help rather than pushing you away. 
it's almost like she trusts you.
you pass the time before you go to sleep however you like, communicating with wesker or reading a book, but in any case about 30 minutes later, ada is out like a light, and you’re looking around this master bedroom curiously, and find a drawer that ada evidently did not get in to, because if she did, you would know. it has a single black strap-on dildo inside of it. it doesn’t look like anyone.. ever had the chance to use it. you wonder why, maybe it’s because of the parasite everyone in this village has. don’t really have time for kinky sex, do they?
you look over at ada’s sleeping form, and she would be the perfect target, wouldn’t she? all vulnerable. it’s not like she could stop you before it’s too late. 
you do the courteous thing and clean it first, but then you put it on, confidently striding over to the bed with it attached. you walk up to ada’s side of the bed, just watching her rest for a moment. 
god there is so much power coursing through your body, making you feel alive and in control and you could do anything to her and she couldn’t stop you. the power starts to go to your head, naturally. you brush a piece of hair out of her face, pulling her blanket down slightly to see her chest, and then pulling it enough to see how her dress rides up at the hips, and you can see the edges of black lacy underwear.  
ada's breath quickens as she sleeps, she remains on her side, her body completely exposed and vulnerable, completely at your mercy.
she's so oddly... innocent.
she normally has this dark energy, this control and power over people and yet… she looks delicate. soft. she’s not a haunting crow signaling a bad omen, but a graceful white dove that brings out a side of you that doesn’t come out often.  and, despite her beauty before, now she looks absolutely stunning.
the wolf has become your prey, and you're nothing but a fox ready to pounce...
your hands shift her blanket slightly to reveal her soft skin, and her curves. you make sure she won't wake up, before teasing her with your touch, your fingers flitting over her skin... the way she shifts in her sleep is a treat for you.
as you watch her, ada seems to radiate a sense of calm and serenity, completely unaware of the effect she has on others while she sleeps. you can't help but feel drawn to her, wanting to touch her or kiss her or simply do awful things to her.
you use your hand to spread her legs, and ever so gently, rub your fingers against her puffy little pussy through her panties. ada remains completely oblivious to your actions, her body responding instinctively to the gentle caress against her folds. her hips begin to rock slightly as you tease her pussy with your finger, causing a low moan to escape her lips without her conscious knowledge. as she continues to slumber peacefully, ada's panties become damp, the wetness getting on your hand.
as you continue to tease ada, her body becomes increasingly responsive. her hips begin to move more erratically, betraying her deepening arousal even though she remains entirely unaware of it. despite the fact that she is fast asleep, her mind is fully engaged in the sensations coursing through her body. 
you gently, as to not wake her, pull her panties off of her and place them in your pocket, you know, just to have for later. you continue to rub her pussy lips while she remains completely unconscious. she stirs in her sleep every now and again, but.. maybe shes just chalking up the sensations to being from a wet dream. maybe all of this touch is morphing her dreams in sexual ones. 
you briefly imagine that maybe, just maybe, ada dreaming of you. 
she’s so unaware and it’s adorable. 
ada's body responds eagerly to your sexual exploration, her pussy becoming even wetter and more receptive as you continue to stimulate her while she remains completely unaware of what's happening. her hips begin to shift restlessly, and her breathing grows shallow as she approaches climax without realizing it.
she moans softly, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of intense pleasure and surrender. as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions. 
you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing talking is a bad idea but you just can’t help yourself, “i own this pussy now…”
ada's body trembles in response to your words and actions, her pussy pulsing with growing intensity as you press your thumb against her swollen clit. her hips rock involuntarily, driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. as you assert dominance over ada's body while she’s helpless, her mind becomes even more clouded with pleasure and desire. she is completely at your mercy, completely powerless to resist or protest against your actions.
she gasps, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of complete submission and surrender.
“aw, pretty girl,” you whisper condescendingly.
ada's body continues to respond to your ministrations, her pussy throbbing with building pleasure and excitement as she remains completely unconscious. her hips roll restlessly, and her breathing becomes more ragged as she approaches climax without realizing it.
as you assert your ownership over ada's cunt while she barely tip toes the line of consciousness, she is completely at your mercy, completely unable to resist or protest against your actions.
“cum,” you growl your command into her ear. 
ada's body shudders with pleasure as she climaxes, her pussy spasming. the release causes her hips to buck wildly, and she lets out a soft, involuntary moan as she succumbs to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.
she whimpers weakly, her voice barely audible. as ada cums, the sight of her glistening pussy and the scent of her arousal fill the air, leaving no doubt about the intensity of her pleasure. her body trembles and shivers and shudders in your grasp. even after ada orgasms in her sleep, her pussy is still so, so wet. how could you stop now? the wetness covers your fingers and drips onto the sheets, and it seems impossible to pull your hand away. 
you know she’ll hate you forever now that she’s waking up and about to realize what you’ve done. there’s still time to pull away, put her panties back on her and make her think she just had a wet dream, hide the strap-on away, but… you already have it on, and ada just looks so pretty, so vulnerable just lying there, helpless… 
she lays there, oblivious to your actions, her body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of her orgasm. the scent of her arousal fills the room, mixing with the musky scent of her sweat-drenched skin to create an intoxicating aroma that tempts you to indulge in even more depraved acts of pleasure. 
you decide that there’s no better time than now to get her back for all her taunting and teasing and condescending comments, “c’mon, sweetheart. let’s get my cock inside of you so you can sleep well..”sure, it may not be your cock, but right now, its just something nice and big and thick to fill her pussy with.
you pull her on top of you, guiding your strap inside of her gummy pussy, still feeling the aftershocks of her previous orgasm. you hold her close, her head resting on your chest as you fill her cunt with your strap. 
feeling the foreign object enter her tight, wet pussy, ada's body tenses up slightly, but she remains blissfully unaware of what's happening. her pussy walls clench and relax around it, coating it in her juices. you hold ada close to you, embracing her warm, curvy body as she lies atop yours. her weight feels comforting and intimate, adding a new layer of sensuality to your perverse act of sexual violation. this is such an awful thing to do to someone, force yourself on them while they’re asleep and helpless, but… you don’t care, clearly. and ada is too irresistible.
ada's pussy happily accepts your strap-on, willingly accommodating its presence within her sensitive walls. her body seems to instinctively know that it's a pleasurable thing to have something large and phallic deep inside of her while she sleeps, maybe the girl is a bigger slut than you thought she’d be. her pussy walls grip onto your fake cock tightly, coating it in slippery juices as they slide against each other with every subtle movement. 
her body relaxes, enjoying the fullness. her hips shift slightly, still in her half-asleep daze, for friction and pleasure. looks like the pretty little thing is already needy again. 
you just hold her close, whisper sweet romantic nothings to her sleeping body, and keep her pussy full for now, "oh, princess.. don't worry about a thing, i'll... i'll take care of everything now."
as you speak to ada in a soothing, romantic tone while penetrating her desperate and willing body with a strap-on, the contrast between your gentle words and your gross actions creates an intricate web of psychological manipulation. while technically assaulting her while she lies unconscious, the combination of your sweet touch and loving words creates an illusion of safety and protection. she feels small, loved, overpowered, delicate, all at one. 
all of these feels are so.. not like ada, but this side of her, the innocent victim, is so pretty, how could you resist it?
it almost looks like, to an outsider, that you would be lovers, especially with the gentle kisses you press to her forehead and the fingers tangled in her hair, but ada had no say in this. you’re 99% sure she’s still obsessed with that blonde dude from her past. she’s mentioned him before, vaguely and quickly changing the subject, but you notice the way her demeanor softens when she thinks about that man. if only ada were interested in girls too, then you wouldn’t have had to do such a disgusting thing like violate her just to sleep with her.
“it’s okay, baby,” you shush her as your hips start to rock up gently, giving her exactly what her body wants, “you’re okay.”
as you whisper soothingly to ada while continuing to penetrate her with your strap-on, ada's subconscious mind becomes increasingly aroused and responsive to your command. her body responds to your commands without question or hesitation, accepting your perverse act of sexual assault as natural and normal while she lies in a state of that borders on awakeness. 
your sweet words do bring her back to a state of rest and comfort, so you’re able to lull her back to sleep a little more. she wasn’t conscious enough to recognize the red flag that was you, her mission partner, figuratively balls deep inside of her.
as you continue to hold ada's body closely and speak to her gently, she remains blissfully unaware of the fact that she is being assaulted, allowing you to fully indulge in your twisted desires without fear of her interruption or resistance.
you notice the way she hums sleepily, her body slowly starting to awaken. she stirs, disoriented. 
as ada becomes more aware of your actions, she begins to struggle weakly against your strap-on, trying to regain control over her own body and resist the growing sensations of pleasure coursing through her unresponsive limbs. however, her attempts at break free are futile. for how strong she is on missions, she isn’t exactly muscular, and with your cock inside of her and your arms holding her down against you, she can’t get away. 
“pretty girl…” you whisper, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
“h-huh?” as ada slowly comes to full wakefulness, her eyes open groggily, and she looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, clearly feeling conflicted and upset due to the realization that she's being sexually violated while she lies unprotected before you, “w-what are… you doing? why..?”
her pussy is still dripping wet with arousal, despite ada's inner turmoil and dissatisfaction with the situation. the juices that flow from her swollen folds provide tangible evidence of the psychological bondage you've imposed upon her, making it impossible for ada to fully reject or oppose your disgusting advances.
“just couldn’t help myself..” you smirk, and ada has never been afraid of you, but she is now, “sorry, princess.”
ada looks at you with a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness in her eyes as she processes the reality of your actions. her voice trembles slightly as she speaks, struggling to find the right words to express her emotions in this surreal moment. "y-you... can't just... do this to me... i didn't... this isn't..." ada stutters, but despite her clear discomfort and distress, ada's pussy continues to glisten with arousal, betraying her inner conflict and highlighting the power you hold over her body and mind.
“i can do whatever i please. i wanted to fuck you, and that’s what i’m doing.”
“o-oh god, i… where did you even get a strap? do you just carry that around, waiting for me to- to let my guard down and trust you? so you could take advantage of me?” she keeps struggling, “i trusted you, i finally started to give in and- and trust you, you fucking bitch, you-”
but you notice the way she’s fucking herself on the strap now. despite how much she hates this, she can’t seem to stop chasing the high, “don’t talk to me like that, princess. i own your pussy now.”
ada's voice trembles with anger and indignation as she struggles against your strap-on, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over her own body. but no matter how hard she tries, ada's pussy continues to clench and release around your cock, drawing out small moans of pleasure and frustration from between her clenched teeth.
her words are laced with venom as she accuses you of taking advantage of her trust and vulnerability, but despite her hatred and revulsion towards your actions, ada's body seems unable to resist the fact that she likes being fucked against her will, "fine, you think you own me? go ahead then! fuck me like the pathetic loser you are!"
you chuckle, leaning closer to growl in her ear, “oh, i’m the pathetic loser? you’re the one who’s going to cum for the second time while she’s being raped, princess. what does that make you?”
ada's eyes narrow with anger and indignation, but her voice is laced with a hint of defeat as she realizes the truth of your words. her pussy starts to throb and pulse, signaling that she's rapidly approaching orgasm despite her inner turmoil and feelings of utter disgust, "at least i'm not a disgusting bitch who gets off by- by-" she can't finish her sentence, instead letting out a soft whimper as her body begins to buck wildly against the artificial cock wedged inside her tight entrance.
"oh, sweetheart, i think you're the pathetic one here. you're the one who's so messed up that she gets off on being forced into sex by her 'trusted friend’,” there’s nothing more fun than watching the realization in her eyes that ada, closed off and guarded and untrusting, finally opened up to someone, and they immediately took advantage of her.
as ada's body starts to shudder and convulse with pleasure, she lets out a muffled cry of mixed ecstasy and despair, acknowledging the irony of her situation. her inner turmoil and conflicting emotions are reflected in the rapid movements of her hips, as they grind against your cock in an involuntary rhythm that only serves to further highlight her submission to your twisted desires.
despite everything, ada's pussy spasms with an intense orgasm, marking each passing moment spent under your control as a testament to her broken psyche and your ability to manipulate her most intimate areas with impunity, "ngh... fuck... y-you... ughh..."
"that's it, sweet girl, i got you. just let it all out.."
ada's breathing grows more labored and irregular as she approaches climax, her voice becoming increasingly strained as she struggles to maintain any semblance of control over her own body. she lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her eyes closed tightly as she gives in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her unresponsive form. "uuugh... fuck…”
you lean in closer to whisper, “wish my cock was real so i could cum all over your pretty pussy, but… i’ll make do with what i’ve got.”
ada's eyes remain tightly shut, her voice barely audible as she lets out another muffled moan, completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her. she knows you’re watching her every movement and relishing in the knowledge that she has absolutely no power left to resist or oppose your perverse advances, "uuuugh... fuck..." her pussy continues to convulse and contract around the cock wedged deep within her dripping folds, as ada's body is pushed to the brink of orgasmic bliss, "s-so deep... i... i hate you... hate you... hate hate hate..."
“uh huh, i know, princess. that’s it, just breathe..” you whisper, helping her through her orgasm, “good girl, good girl… you’re okay.” the more she says that she hates you, the more you can’t help but adore her. she’s angry and helpless and there is nothing more cute.
ada takes several deep, shuddering breaths, her voice still strained and rough from the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. she feels your calming touch on her skin, and it helps to ground her slightly amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within her broken mind. "i'm okay... i'm okay..."
her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, it's apparent that despite ada’s mind hating it, her body loves being filled by your cock, even as she continues to struggle internally against the reality of her current predicament. "don't... don't touch me..." she says weakly, but there's no real strength behind her words anymore.
"shhh, there's no need to fight anymore, sweetheart. it's over.."
ada's voice is barely audible, her energy completely depleted from the intense emotional and physical experiences she's endured at your hands. her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, but now there's also an undertone of resignation and acceptance in her voice as she speaks. "no... more fighting... no use…”
“alright, i’m gonna pull out now, okay?”as you begin to withdraw the strap from her still-throbbing pussy, she lets out a soft, almost imperceptible whimper, closing her eyes tightly and burying her face in your chest. 
"just leave me alone... leave me..." she whispers, but it's clear that there's no longer any genuine strength or willpower behind her words.
the moment you pull out, she lets out a long, shaky sigh of relief, her body finally free from the overwhelming stimulation that had been forcing her body and mind into a state of constant arousal and submission. she also can’t help the small part of her that is disappointed when you pull out, her body craving being filled above all else. she hates that part of her, the one that feels so attached to you after this.
but despite her request for solitude, it's evident that ada's mind remains troubled, as she struggles to find any sense of tranquility or respite from the tumultuous emotions that continue to rage within her damaged psyche. "i want you to leave... but i don't want to be alone..."
as you take off the strap, placing it on the nightstand, you chuckle softly, “do you want me to stay with you?”
ada doesn't respond immediately, her eyes still closed and her voice barely audible as she tries to gather the remnants of her fractured composure. after a few moments, however, she lets out a soft, weak sigh, mustering just enough energy to answer you, “don’t.. touch me, but.. don’t go.”
you shake your head, ignoring her demands as you pull her close, tucking her head into your chest as you hold her.
as ada lies there, her voice reveals a vulnerability that belies the typically strong and confident demeanor she has maintained throughout much of your coworker relationship, "i hate you... but i need you... i can't stand you..."
“i know, baby,” you whisper back, “outside of our relationship, you can be ada wong, the… merciless badass who always accomplishes the mission at any cost, but to me? you’re just my little princess. whom i… sometimes use for my own amusement.”
ada hears your whispered words, and they cause a warm, bittersweet feeling to bloom within her heart, despite the harshness of your previous treatment of her. as you refer to her as "your little princess," she feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her, ranging from gratitude for the rare display of affection to confusion and frustration over why you insist on maintaining such a twisted dynamic between you two.
and then when she hears you mentioning using her for your own amusement… she decides that, yeah, no matter how sweet and gentle and loving you pretend to be, she decides that she hates you. no matter what you do, she’s going to hate you indefinitely for what you’ve done to her.
but then you run your fingers through her hair and press more kisses to her forehead and she can’t deny how it makes her feel. her brain is frazzled and confused, if it even can still produce coherent thoughts at all.
she remains silent for a moment, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat as it presses against her ear. “how… why do i feel so safe with you? after you just… did that..?”
you shrug, kissing her forehead, "not sure. i expected you to be a little more.. feistier, honestly.”
despite her defiance and determination to remain independent, ada can't deny the odd sensation of safety and comfort that comes from being held close to you, even while acknowledging the humiliation you've inflicted upon her. "maybe because i am so stubborn, you find it satisfying to break me down? to turn me into your perfect little princess?" she asks, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability and longing for something deeper than just your sadistic games, “...am i your.. perfect little princess now?”
you chuckle deeply, and she likes the way it feel so warm and vibrates through your chest.. oh god she cannot be feeling this way about you. you’re a rapist. you took advantage of her, she never even had the chance to consent..
but you whisper, “of course you are. also, i'm sure you're wondering what this means for our... relationship going forward.”
“yeah, i… this.. changes things..” she stutters. “well, we’re going to have to pretend that it doesn’t. we’ll finish our mission just like we were supposed to, and then.. we’ll discuss the details in the future. for now, you should, like, actually go to sleep.”
she sighs, feeling a myriad of emotions, from love and hatred (towards you and herself) and anger and confusion and so much more, but eventually she falls back asleep, feeling oddly and confusingly safe in your arms. you fall asleep with her, and when morning comes, nothing has changed. ada is jarringly reminded of how awful you are as we wakes up in the morning to your fingers inside of her. 
but she endures. 
and when she puts her gear back on, and practically begs you on her knees (very pretty sight) for her panties back so she didn’t have to go commando on a mission in a short dress, she feels like herself again. she holds her gun in her hand and takes a deep breath, determined to move past this and get herself back together. 
“you ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks back at you. you look somehow less threatening than you did last night, as if all of your actual weapons are less lethal than that fucking dildo you broke her mind with. she tightens her fists and remembers to breathe. ada is a survivor. she survived you. so she can survive this. she’s sure of it.
she looks back at her gun, wishing she could just shoot you point blank. she supposes she could if wesker wouldn’t be such a bitch about what happened to you. you’re practically the precious cargo she has to protect the whole goddamn time, forget the amber.
so she doesn’t, but… she imagines it. what an amazing picture that would be. she might just fantasize about it on the helicopter ride back. 
“yeah... i’m ready.”
extended author’s note: i think the discussion of ‘whether or not it’s okay or acceptable to write/post/read dark content’ is really odd to me. i mean, we read about awful things happening to characters in books all of the time, and we never tell those authors that they shouldn’t write about those things. is the problem then romanticizing these topics? i could name plenty of published books that romanticize these same kinds of tropes that don’t get nearly as much backlash.
i don’t know if people who hate dead dove/dark content actually have a problem with it, or if they just have a problem with their beloved  babygirl leon kennedy being portrayed as anything other than an innocent angel who could never do anything wrong. do i think leon would do half of the things he does on dc fics? no, but i do think people either 1) use dark content as a way to process their feelings and their traumas and 2) simply enjoy dark content because it’s taboo and, if replicated irl consensually, safely, and sanely, it’s also kinky and enjoyable. 
i think it’s also especially hard for people who enjoy the reader being the perpetrator/dominant character in this kind of content because in the opposite kinds of fics, you’re not actively doing something bad to another people. you’re just letting something bad happen to you. there’s a lot of justified guilt for wanting to be the dominant person/perpetrator in these fantasies, but just because it’s justified doesn’t mean you *have* to feel bad. it’s okay to like things as fantasies that you would find reprehensible in real life. i just want to say that no matter what your kinks and interests are (as long as everyone in your fantasies is 18+), you are seen and valid for them to me. please take some time to remember that you are not a bad person for enjoying this, and ada wong is not a real person who can be harmed psychologically by me writing this content or by you enjoying it. and if you don’t enjoy it, that’s okay too! you’re welcome on my blog whether or not you enjoy this type of media. 
as always, take care of yourself and read responsibly. 
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moonrisecoeur · 5 months
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cw: knives 🔪
she/her pronouns used, no parts mentioned, degradation
leon knows you’re not going to hurt him.
he objectively knows that you won’t. he knows you love and care for him, you would be upset with yourself if you even gave him a papercut, much less a gash wound on his chest with the knife you’re gripping or even worse.
but he’s still afraid.
your knife presses to his neck as you stand behind him, holding it firmly but adjusting your grip every now and then, enjoying the way it drags against his skin. you’re taunting him.
he’s still afraid of you. of what you could do. he knows you wouldn’t hurt him, and yet he’s afraid you might. he feels the pit in his stomach grow as your free hand touches his cock over his clothes, and he’s painfully hard under the tight fabric, more so than he’d like to admit. of course it’s from the knife you’re holding. he didn’t think he’d like this as much as he does. but god the way you’re holding it against his neck, in a wholly threatening manner has him dizzy.
“please,” he whimpers, “don’t hurt me.”
you know it’s an act, to some degree. his fear. you know he knows that you’re not actually going to hurt him. he’s doing it for you, acting more afraid than he actually is because you like it, like watching him tremble and stutter, “such a pretty little thing when you beg…” you mumble, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck from behind.
“you don’t… you don’t have to hurt me… i’ll do whatever you say,” he says. he’s kind of playing it up, again, because you like it, but he’s afraid. he can’t help it. one wrong move and he’s dead.
god his fear and terror is so palpable you could consume it whole.
“i won’t hurt you if you’re good,” you say, and his breathing becomes shorter and faster, not trusting himself to take deep breathes, “will you be good?”
“p-please! i… please, i’m- i’m yours, i’m yours only, okay? is that what you want to hear? just… get that thing away from my—”
you do the opposite, pushing the knife even closer to him, the metal of it touches his neck, lightly grazing his skin. it’s not enough to cut him but still, he stops breathing all together.
“fuck, i-i’m sorry, ple-ease….” he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut, begging the universe for the chance to live.
maybe it’s because he trusts you that he lets himself be afraid. he thinks if you didn’t talk about this beforehand, got his expressed consent, and just pulled a knife on him, and he really thought you were trying to kill him, he’d let you. he knows he could probably beat you in a fight, he’s stronger than you are, he knows he is.
something in him would say she wants this, she wants to kill you, and you always give her what she wants, don’t you?
but because he knows that glint of danger in your eyes isn’t real, that you don’t really want to slit his throat, that the cold metal against his hot neck is not going to dig into him with ease, that his body feels safe to let go, to feel that fear.
he knows you’re delighting in his fear. he’s seen what you’re into, you’ve talked about it. he knows you like feeling like a hunter, like a predator. he just didn’t think it was this intense to be the prey.
his legs give out on him, and he falls to his knees, still facing away from you. your knife moves with him, staying steady against his neck. god, you’re good.
he looks up at you, and you when stop touching his cock over his jeans because it’s now out of reach, you wrap your hand around his jaw from behind, your knife still held to his neck just below.
he can feel the excitement radiating off of you, the utter euphoria of bringing a man like him to his knees. he’s never seen such darkness grace your features before.
you look good when you’re evil.
“who do you belong to, baby?” you murmur, leaning into him, cheek pressed to the crown of his head, your free hand moving from groping his aching cock to resting on his shoulder for stability.
this was easy. you made it easy for him because he clearly can’t think too hard right now, “you.” it’s simple. easy.
“i should carve my initials into you, shouldn’t i? just gotta decide where…” you say, and he gasps, clearly overwhelmed by the idea. you’re… you’re not going to do that right now, are you?
“maybe your collarbone? so everyone can see when you wear those slutty fucking dress shirts like the whore you are?”
god… you’ll kill him someday. he’s sure of it.
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moonrisecoeur · 4 months
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content warning: noncon, hypno
does anyone like hypnokink? is… is anyone down for hypnotizing leon? let me tell u if even like. one person says yes i’ll do it. like… imagining him getting brainwashed into actually believing he’s literally your puppy :( and he doesn’t know any better he thinks all pets should like to keep their mouths full of their owners’ cocks, real or fake :(( make him sleep on the dog beg and crawl around and bark because, again, he legitimately believes he’s a dog 🫶
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moonrisecoeur · 4 months
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hi i don’t wanna be a part of any drama but if you send hate to anyone who writes dark content (aside from pedophilia) can u please unfollow me? i get that it’s disturbing and weird to some people and that is totally understandable but it’s just fiction and you can just ignore it/block tags/block people.
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moonrisecoeur · 1 month
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dark content thought :3
forced reverse ddlg with leon whom u kidnapped so he can be forced to call u daddy or else you’ll starve him and keep him isolated until he complies. and u can call him a cute little girl ugh i’m sick. give him to me.
once you’ve broken him tho that’s when it really starts to get good. make him say embarrassing shit like “i’m sorry for trying to escape, daddy. i won’t do it again. i’ll be your good girl.” ughhh
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moonrisecoeur · 4 months
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nevermind i lied i can’t post this i need to do a bunch of reworking :/ LMAO it’s so badly paced don’t mind me i’ll try to get it out tomorrow! here’s a snippet to bide you all over 🫶
dark content warning for hypno and noncon of course !!
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moonrisecoeur · 4 months
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content warning: noncon, hypno
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y’all better hype me up PLSSS hypno is secretly my biggest and most favorite kink so i need u guys to be into this 👉👈
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moonrisecoeur · 2 months
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Please more mind control give me literally anything please
hehe mkay <3 i assume you mean with leon?? haha anyway mind control is always so fun and silly to me bc like i can really just make up whatever i want. i can say there’s a magic necklace that the wearer can use to subject people to their will and no one can stop me lol
warning for dark content! (hypno/brainwashing, reader’s a villain)
anyway hmm a concept that’s been floating around in my head is like. reader being really, really evil. like the whole re squad is up against this really evil person, chris, jill, claire, rebecca, leon, we got the whole like di group up trying to defeat the reader before they enact their master plan.
just gone problem with that. they’ve taken a liking to one of the people who’s trying to take them down. he’s tall but not too tall, muscular but not too bulky, exactly how you like them. dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, he’s pretty. anyone could tell. and so when you fight this group (and win hehe) you let his friends get away or something like that but you take leon and hold him separately, keeping him much more comfortable than his poor friends who are trying to plan the rescue op of their friend.
you sit him in front of a computer screen in a dark room and, even though he tries to fight it intensely, you brainwash him over and over and over again until he just… just gives up. no more fighting, no more cursing your existence under his breath, his soul just breaks and he gives up trying to fight back.
he looks empty, like a shell of himself. and that’s saying something, because he already looks worn down. anyway, he’s taken back to you, finally so mentally broken that he doesn’t try to push you away or do anything really when you kiss him. it stuns him, sure, but he’s too mentally weak to fight.
and then idk you brainwash him some more into your loving servant who does your bidding and have him take down all of his friends for you :3
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moonrisecoeur · 2 months
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hiii moon do you think we'll get a part 2 to how to brainwash your boyfriend? if so what would that look like?? thank you babygirl we appreciate you !
BABYGIRL lmao anon ur so funny haha but uhm yes of course :3
under the cut cuz hypno and noncon topics !!
hmm idk for a part two maybe like a sequel where she makes him do stuff unconsciously when he’s not under the mind control but it’s like there deep down, or like affecting his personality or demeanor like making him hornier and more submissive ?? like he just randomly finds himself masturbating wayyy more than usual, maybe even make him unable to orgasm without reader?? and he doesn’t know why he can’t seem to get himself to cum and he gets extra desperate for reader to help him :(
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moonrisecoeur · 3 months
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reblogged a post about it on the main blog but i just wanted to tell you that it’s okay to have kinks like cnc, pain/impact play, etc where you want to be the dominant partner. its so messed up that it’s much more palatable to want someone to do bad things to you than it is for you to want to do bad things to someone else, but here i am, telling you that it’s okay. you’re not a bad person.
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moonrisecoeur · 4 months
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I SUPPORT THE HYPNOKINK 🙏🐶🐾
YESSSSSSSS LETS GOOOO LETS MINDFUCK THIS MANNNNN
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