98luck

[98luck]

How i love his concept arts

he looks sooo hot

[98luck]

CELEBRITY SKIN

Leon Kennedy x female reader | MDNI!! 18+ | dead dove do not eat, incest, dad-daughter incest, rape/noncon sex, female reader, Leon is washed up rockstar, implied heavily and A LOT drug abuse/alcoholism, intoxication, vaginal sex, fingering, unsafe sex, creampie, anal play(brief attempt), piss(reader pisses herself), overstimulation, puke (mentioned, not sexual), deadbeat dad, he is icky, degradation.

summary: Hate is too strong, love is locked in the little box under your bed with keys you threw out - doesn’t mean it is absent. He is cool, not enough to deserve real love. Something tells you he doesn’t understand it too. “What do you love, Leon?” Alcohol, substances, music, strings etching into his calluses and a good pussy - his answer is not about love, but preferences. That’s what he likes. You don’t like your dad. That's the right way to say it.  

notes: no way im going to proofread all those 6k words and pray to see every mistake.... same rule: if you see mistakes then you are wrong and ignore them, + english isnt my first language. i feel like this is a little bit incosistent mess, but!!! whatever! also quoted "softer, softest" by hole. reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of interractions are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

You remember the cold floor against your knees, still aching after falling off your bicycle a day before, even the light brown bandage is not able to stick to your skin - a bad habit, scratching it behind your mom’s gaze. Your eyes are full of interest studying vinyl covers and CDs - in both of them your dad is staring at you. Mostly your mom hoarded those, different posters with his bandmates from old magazines, but Leon always stood out. You remember your dad pinching your cheeks, crouching down and the bitter smell with acidic hints coming from him. He reeked with something your nose hated, wrinkling up, trying to push him back just to meet his irritated expression. His fingers were rough after years of playing guitar, calloused and lacking softness in them. You should have been grateful, your mom scolded you, dad didn’t have much free time. 

You remember your mom’s laps, sitting there as her fingers gently open the cd case, a light crack from the plastic and the smell of it. The reflection of you both on the disc, before she placed it in the slit of the recorder, disappearing in the squared black item you were so afraid to play with; too many buttons, too scary to mess with. She told you she is lucky to even be with him, to share a place with him even if it is empty with a cold bed waiting for him most of the time. Your mom was the biggest groupie, at least among the ones you knew - your classmates were crazy about Leon too, but it was a fleeting crush before disappointment hit them. 

Rockstar. Dad rockstar, not the most famous fact weirdly enough. Paparazzi have never bothered you and your mom, nor has he tried to appear with you in public. On billboards, on the magazines wherever you go there was him. Blue eyes following yours in the shops, with big striking red words: “LEON KENNEDY BARES HIS SOUL!!! What women can catch his heart?” or "New rock king, Leon Kennedy strikes again: who is that woman in red?". At some point, you saw your dad more on the glistening unpacked magazines in kiosks, on the screen of old TV illuminating with blue light your fascinated face late at night, one of main reasons you slept bad, trying to get more about your own dad or the posters in your room, but rarely ever in person. 

It comes with some sort of privilege, not expensive jewelry or good vacations in some cool hotel next to the ocean, but without any questions being able to walk backstage to see your dad was enough for you. Usually he knew about that in advance - a day or week before. Spreading a smile at your sight and your mom. You remember glancing through the gap of the door, that night you got away from your mom, losing her in the crowd just to see him - a surprise, but it ended up as one for you instead. Your dad kissing some young groupie on his lap, he pressed back on the black leather couch, this wasn’t a mistake on his part, the excuse you heard later was bullshit, as the sight of his hands gripping her ass and her nude back were imprinted in your mind - told a louder story than any gossip.

Next memory is your mom, sobbing in the empty bedroom late at night. A common occurrence, as a child you never noticed that - maybe she hid it well or you didn't wake up so often at night. Standing behind the door to hear bitterness in her tears, unwillingly passing the same sentiment. The fog in your memory faded to realize your dad's presence is lacking. Even his affection was forced, there was nothing in his playful pinch or the boop on your nose, even a light chuckle after a pet name held nothing but an act. 

The last betrayal came from your mom. Empty, dull looking apartment, you have never noticed how lifeless this place is, even on bright days your memories of this place are tinted with grey, the color of cloudy weather like it was always supposed to rain but it never did. Little paper note on the table without a ring - you expected one, forgetting he has never married her nor there was a ring. Maybe that’s for the better, marriage kills women. Pretty delicate handwritten text adorns on the paper.

“I hope you die from an overdose, you don't love anyone other than drugs, alcohol and your stupid, failed carrier!!”

She left your dad, finally. She left you too, not so finally. A child is an extension of one parent or both of them, a bitter reminder of your mom’s mistake? Even if her caress was gentle and full of love, even in videos she recorded with little you - clear trembling voice after another disappointment from Leon, red eyes after sobbing, but always with you, taking care. And you believed you were not a child anymore, 18 years old was a big number. 

Since today, the place was supposed to be lonely, cradling you in its cold embrace as Leon is never present as much as she or you wanted. So, the loud jiggle of keys. Clink! The turning and the sound of the door opening pulled you out of your mind, unsteady footsteps not even similar to your mom. Leon. You feel like you were standing here for eternity, meeting his gaze is unusual - like catching Santa Claus placing gifts as a kid, which you have never had. His appearance is still ruffled, hair falling in front of his eyes just to be brushed away in rough movement, squinting at you briefly before recognizing and confusion washes over him. Cologne mixed with alcohol, a hint of sweet, floral one from fucking one of few remaining groupies. 

You feel like you have just caught your husband cheating, dick deep inside some pretty bimbo bitch’s hole - instead Leon is your dad. 

Leon didn’t comment on that, squinting again as he read, while your own gaze stared at him with a hope to see something. Anger? Regret? Maybe realization he lost something valuable? That he loved you after all? Leon shrugs, nodding to the note. 

“She left?” He asks, not even trying to be decent. To pick it up, to read it, to realize how big he fucked up. Is he high? Drunk? Or all substances have already eaten his brain? The note is all written straightforwardly, clearly his cells are eaten by every drug coursing in his bloodstream - at this moment, even for a short one a wish passes through like a falling star, a hope for overdose to hit him right now. 

“Seems so” is the only answer that comes out, stunned to process how surreal this feels - straight out of Lynch movies, weird feeling in your chest, the surroundings look more surreal, dislocated and you don’t want to leave the room. 

“She forgot to add women too”

“What?”

“You don't love anyone other than drugs, alcohol and your stupid, failed carrier” He glances down, not hiding a smirk on his lips, about to say some funny joke. “I love women too.”

…

The gossip killed his fame and reputation, your dad told you this while being drunk on the couch, slurred words not even trying to look you in the eyes. In your honest opinion Leon was the one to kill it. Alcohol, drugs and age don’t go well forever, some are fortunate and more tolerable but a never ending cycle of scandals do irreparable damage. You know your dad, he is impossible when his mind is fogged on some of the stuff. Coke, molly, whiskey or vodka. Maybe everything mixed, maybe worse - you are no expert, everything has always led to him being some kind of mess. Pissing himself or throwing up all night loudly, depriving you of sleep. Even worse - ending up in the hospital after an unnatural amount of drugs in his blood. 

In a second, a thought about your dad flashes. What’s about him? Hate is too strong, love is locked in the little box under your bed with keys you threw out - doesn’t mean it is absent. He is cool, not enough to deserve real love. Something tells you he doesn’t understand it too. “What do you love, Leon?” Alcohol, closing eyes on the couch after pregabalin hits, heightening other substances, music, strings etching into his calluses and a good pussy - his answer is not about love, but preferences. That’s what he likes. You don’t like your dad. That's the right way to say it. 

“What do you know about fun?” Again, same story, for god’s sake. You ignore his attempt to talk - waste of time. Another try to brag how experienced he is, how many substances were in his nose or in his system in general like you are some sort of dumb impressive girl or a groupie. It is impressive when you are 18, in a way; “holy shit, how have you not died yet?” You heard those stories plenty of times, you saw it and had to deal with his mess for free - they get repetitive. To quote him, at your age he got his dick wet every weekend, if the week was not going well. It was the past, the rockstar one but now all you can see is a washed up musician with an ego of a star. 

No reaction, it irks him in the wrong way. Who the fuck are you? Loser daughter of his, no way you got a man hard even once - the most you’d have is some dumb guy knuckles deep in his car and Leon still has a hard time believing that. Leon nudges you, his finger pokes your waist before leaning closer. A sad hint in his features. Another second and he is going to pout to look believably upset. “It’s my birthday”

“No, it is not” You raise your eyebrow. Actually, you don’t know when his birthday is. Leon has never told you and his drunk or high appearance was not something out of ordinary - a normal Friday night, rather Saturday morning. Drinking more or less doesn’t matter much, all days are no different from celebrations - you still can’t stand it. This is probably another attempt to get under your skin, like he always does when he is sober. Or need a drink. Leon tugs your cheek with two fingers, briefly succumbing to this urge until you don't push his hand away, rejecting his touch. You are not a child. 

“Uh-huh, it is” He mocks your tone, the corner of his lips tenses briefly - evaluating you. 

“Since when?” 

“Since today, don’t be a bitch” Leon pauses meaningfully, raising an eyebrow. “No one likes bitchy girls”

You don’t need him to like you. Your dad died back in the backstage room with a groupie on his lap. Eyeing him again, you can’t ever be sure with this man. He adores messing with you for fun, sobriety doesn’t give a man a lot of hobbies. But right now Leon looks believable. Your dad is not the best actor, you think, maybe he can have some other hidden talents. 

“Do I need to buy something?” You ask and even briefly you notice a flash of excitement in his gaze. Like he won a lotto. Even kids don't get so excited for their birthday party. A “tsk” follows.

“Oh no-no, no way” Leon shakes his head, placing his arm in front of you and creating a ‘small’ obstacle. “Let me deal with this. Show you how to party, what to drink.” 

Your distrustful gaze tells him a lot. Is he real? Should you even trust him? He’d probably get drunk and leave you alone - and this gives you hope and bruises his ego even slightly, not something new with living with him. “I am a pro” 

Not so reassuring.

…

Series of different whiskey bottles on the table, looking like some chaotic statistic - one is lower, then it is higher and it repeats. You don’t really understand if those are expensive ones or cheaper, the only one you are aware of is Jack Daniels. That’s a lot, really, expecting one bottle, two at most, but there are more than enough for a group - you are not going to drink all this. 

“Come now, share a little drink with your dad” Leon pats the spot next to him, spreading his legs, a nightmare to have him in public transport. There are already two glasses of whiskey, one of them waiting for you alone. The couch dips slightly with your weight, his knee slightly brushes against yours, forcing you to clench your legs together even tighter, giving him more space to keep his spread.

The reflection in the whiskey, your hand moves and little waves of alcohol spreads making your face uneven. You are not sure if this is even right to do, at the same time you are at home, safer than around jerks at some party, even if your dad sucks. It burns in your throat, the brown liquid slips down with a hard gulp just to leave some weird aftertaste on your tongue. Leon was eyeing you, ready to shove it down in case you decided to spit it out. No waste in his house! Your glass gets refilled quickly, ready to fill it again and again - at the same time, you feel his hand bringing your own closer to your lips, inviting you to keep drinking. All while his glass looks deepless, infinite, in a way it is still not finished, even though your gaze doesn’t really focus on his drink so it is hard to judge if your sentiment is correct - still, maybe he just throws whiskey in his mouth like it usually happens every day. 

“...You don’t–” Your eyes set on the full glass of whiskey on the table, is it yours? Can you be sure it is his? Leon looks at you with a smirk, satisfied with how everything goes - not even trying to hide it right now, you are so pliant in his guidance. “Drink?”

“Don’t be silly, I've been drinking too.” No, he hasn't, two glasses were the most he has ever drunk this evening.

“Ah!” You hum, the brain processes everything with a big delay. Words roll on your tongue, but nothing comes out - and if it does, you imagined this. Leon eyes your face briefly, maybe the first time he ever stared at you longer than a minute which is still a lot for him. The curves of your lips that hosts beads of whiskey, urging him to catch them as he usually did with groupies in the past. Nostalgic.

“You don’t look like me at all” Leon mutters out with a frown. The doubt of you being his daughter always tormented him - just not too much to care about the paternity test. Even if you are 100% his, he wouldn’t try to be a good dad - the time has passed and he doesn’t care about it enough. Never did.

“What?” 

“Come here, let me see that pretty face” He grins, his own words sound amusing to him, watching your expression ease with every second passed, just like old times. “Perhaps my vision fails me.”

You fell for it. Leon’s hand grips hard your jaw, his thumb caresses your cheek and it feels weird - after many years of his absent presence you feel like a little girl again, waiting for him to pinch your cheeks in between his fingers, to cling to his leg while he’d shred one of his favorite riffs or even solo, always fascinated to stare at his fingers jumping to one string to another just to coax a melody. His lips crush on yours instead, swallowing hard the saliva pooled in your mouth your mind clears even briefly. What the fuck? 

You have kissed a few guys at parties before, invited out of pity just to stay in the corner, ignored, awkward until a guy decided to get you - easy target, desperate and they are not far away from the truth, in the end always leading to a bad car sex with them not being able to recognize your clit. But Leon kisses you differently than those boys, his grip is secure on you, there is no way to get out of this - like a collar settles on your neck, tightly but in the form of his hand. You don’t close your eyes, too shocked at the feeling of his dry lips. Your dad’s lips. He looks unbothered, focused on it. First, with utmost care you had never felt from your dad, it gets pushed aside as Leon gets used to your useless state, easy to kiss you as he wants. Weird, that’s your dad. Your dad kisses you. Alcohol dumbens you, briefly trying to rummage through reasons to excuse him, but this confuses you even further and all you can hear is heart rate beating in your ears, tasting even more alcohol on your lips before he sucks your bottom lip - a way to force his tongue in. 

“Open it” a light slap on your cheek seeing your eyes blurs with the unfocus. Of course it worked, at least Leon gets what he wants. Your lips part in a gasp, blinking as his tongue delves in your mouth. Saliva pools more, now the taste overwhelms your buds to the brim, his tongue feels slick rolling against yours, like passing an invisible candy. You feel your ears burn with shame, you suck at this more likely, but Leon seems unfazed at this as the kiss deepens with more grunts coming out of him against your lips. You don’t understand why your tongue tries to keep up with his now, your hand tries to reach for his wrist. To slap it, to dig your fingers in it - anything to show you want to get out of this. 

Your body feels heavy - any movement you are capable of now is useless, as alcohol messes up with the perception of whatever is happening. It gets worse, heavier like stones were tied to your legs before you got thrown in the water. His hand creeps lower, gripping one of your ass cheeks, fingers dip into the fat, slowly kneading until you feel a pressure over the tight ring of your hole. Your body flinches, lightly but not enough to push him away, enough to break the kiss. Leon is not worried, no way you will be able to do anything. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

You don’t remember. Actually your mind is full of fog, trying to find anything to stitch together for an answer, but for Leon you just stare like a dumb bitch, not giving him an answer other than a weak grunt. Probably not, college guys are not brave enough to try anal - all cool on text, big dick, promises to destroy your holes, just to lead you in their mom’s car and rub your labia before the most mediocre, dry sex, at best. 

“Mm? No?” You shake your head, this doesn’t stop him as his finger presses harder, thumbing at it slowly, observing your eyes widen, hips shift to distance yourself from him - useless. Your body is not yours, all you can hear is his voice waiting for an answer and heartbeat in your ears.  “Not even a little bit?”

His finger keeps skirting over the muscle, nudging it to slip his finger inside. It is hard to form sentences, even harder to think because your head is full of feathers. And it is already overwhelming, the idea of more makes your stomach tense. And if he decides to fuck your ass? Your heart jumps in your chest, maybe imagining this, filled with different contrasting feelings. One is fear, you can’t push him away, your eyes have a hard time focusing on his face, alcohol is dawning on your chest like a sleep paralysis and second one is your clit throbbing for need to be ignored -  just to be used like some object. By your dad. This is wrong, this is alcohol talking. Your hips buck slightly into his hand, unaware his cock jolts in his jeans. 

“N-no” Your voice doesn’t even sound like yours, some stranger’s. His eyes sparkle in pleasure, watching how your expression twists in fear and confusion as his fingertip circles against your hole now, still maintaining the pressure. Trying to relax, so you’d give in finally. “...it hurts” 

“Come on, just a tip?” Leon frowns as you shake your head again, frantically this time. A light pout on his lips as he decides to let this be. He thumbs over your hole for the last time, before withdrawing to hold your thigh. “Then next time.”

His hand caresses your skin, like a lullaby to soothe you from what he tried to do, to be nicer to your drunk state - gullible, more than he was back in time, lesson was learned a long time ago after his heart got shattered. Your skin feels soft underneath his palm, a cotton blanket that is addicting to touch every time, with every caress his hand creeps higher, at the same time your body relaxes at every second. Your chest falls down as your breathing returns to normal pace, exhaling. Tension slowly leaves, fogging everything. You need your dad’s sweetness, even if you don’t realize it. And your dad gets what he needs. Calloused fingers part your cunt, applying pressure on the clit that made you flinch and open your eyes. When did he remove your shorts? He is all over you, with the same hungry look you’ve seen from other men. They all have the same look, pupils dilated jumping from your face to your tits, then to your legs - men are not the smartest creatures, all identical too. Blood rushes into your ears, you feel every thumping sound of it. You try to push him, but alcohol messes up your strength perception. It feels like your entire energy was put to push him off, just to see him being here. Not moving even for an inch. 

“You are wet, fuck” Leon grunts, sliding his fingers in your hole. Feeling them disappear in your folds and you can’t help but flinch, the burning stretch at the lack of adjustment makes your jaw tense. It clenches at rough intrusion and you feel air knock out of your lungs for a moment. You shake your head and Leon grins, your denial is fun, giving more space to play with you. “This cunt is wetter than any groupies.” 

You want to close your eyes, not to stare at him - a bad dream, nightmare, you can’t believe your cunt gushes around his fingers so needily. Wet sounds of him pumping your hole, Maybe you are imagining this, alcohol is not the best lube - only making you drier, usually. Or those are guys you had. Leon’s fingers curl up against your wall, pressing as he finds that sweet star-hitting spongy spot - every pussy loves that and the pressure coaxes your eyes widen with a shaky whimper. “Da-ad–”

“Those bitches were desperate-desperate to be bottomed by your daddy, you know?” His fingers rut relentlessly into you, your stomach pools in more warmth that isn't supposed to be, quick pace coaxing out more sounds you never knew were possible. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to worm out of this. Blood rushes down, feeling burning warmth spreading from your clit up. Leon chuckles, shoving you harder against the couch with his weight. “Tsk, ungrateful like your slut mom.”

It is overwhelming, gushing more around his rough pumping fingers. The pace is steady, easy with the amount of slick your cunt gives. Not feeling anymore that burning stretch, leaking like some needy bitch. Every nerve in your body starts to burn up, pushing away the thought of your dad fucking drugging you and fingering your pussy. Actually, you aren't sure there were even drugs in the glasses - you just want to put more blame on him. Leon is not inexperienced in sex, even if his main interest was his own pleasure he knows the signs of approaching orgasm. No way you are going to cum first and not him, that isn’t in his interest, right now you are not better than a groupie in his arms. He pulls back his hand, leaving you empty, cutting out the sweet wave of orgasm. It is disappointing, shame hits you at the realization you wanted to cum on your dad’s fingers. Oh, fuck. Can’t get worse. 

“You are not allowed to finish yet.” He mutters with a raspy voice, eyeing his soaked fingers. Slowly spreading out just to watch the glistening strings connecting them. God, he missed that.

You feel your body getting lighter than before, there is still the feeling of suffocating and dying if you don't keep your breathing in check. Eyes are always about to close, it is hard to keep yourself awake, moving your head gives you the sensation of a quick camera flick - in reality, you didn’t even shake it. At the same time you should expect nausea, the urge to throw up and a twisting stomach. Time feels inconsistent, at some point you sure it has passed 3 hours already, but catching a glimpse of the clock tells you can’t trust your feelings. But this worry fades away as his cock presses against your wet, sensitive folds. Ignored by him, flesh-to-flesh so hot your hips buck up to rub yourself weakly. When did he unzip his pants? You miss most of the noises, actions - his movements register in your brain too late. One moment you think he is kissing you, now you are confused when his dick got so close to you. For Leon this is nostalgic, standing over your pliant state on the couch is not so different from fun he had with groupies, if not even identical. Dumb look on your face trying to recollect yourself just to fail miserably, a weak whimper escapes from your parted lips, like you are on some good crack right now all lost in it and legs spread just for him to get his dick wet - not his first rodeo, every bitch he had, they all looked like you. 

His hips jerk, his cock slides across your puffy, wet folds smearing his flesh with your arousal. He wants to be slow, indulging in every single inch of you before even notching his tip. His cock twitches, bumping against your clit and your back arches into him more.  Your cunt is already warm, burning hot after being so close to cum - thanks to his fingers. A warmth spreads in his chest, pride. It is not hard to get laid even nowadays, still it is much rarer than in the past. But after this? Leon is sure his dick is going to get wet more often, daughter should help him. And you will in his opinion, in case of contrary nothing drugs can’t fix. 

Leon is not patient, he has never been one - one of reasons condoms were a rare occurrence in his wallet, never sure if they aren’t spoiled and if they are that is not his worry. He can overthink after sex, before consuming whiskey. Realizing nothing is so bad as he thinks - hey, his pull out game is not so terrible, Leon believes. Guiding his leaking tip to notch in your hole, it glistens after smearing your arousal across the flesh. And at contact your body clenches - begging him to slam his hip, to bury himself in you finally. Leon wants that too. A push is enough to see his cock disappear in your folds - sliding inside so perfectly, feeling how your walls stretch around his cock accommodating to the intrusion, the warmth of your cunt is welcoming, like the best thing after drugs. Sucking him in so sweetly after every inch sinks into you. Your walls clenched around him, quick to adjust to the curve of his dick that presses so nicely on your g-spot. 

“A bi-i-ig stretch!” That supposed to be a warning before he slides in, to prepare you - instead the timing was wrong. Would be useless, you are no different than any groupies from the past - tell them anything and their brain wouldn’t even process that with the amount of alcohol. It heightens pleasure, but not the thinking process, even worse if you are a dumb bitch - for Leon you are. You blink fast, his cock filling your cunt to the brim, hard and with no other way to feel the emptiness. Almost overwhelming, to tears if you didn’t start already. Leon would have commented if that was the case. 

“Fuck…” You. It doesn’t come out, it remains on the tip of your tongue.Talking is hard. 

“Oh, come on,” Leon bucks his hips, punctuating his words just to see your eyes widen. “I’m already doing that.”

A low grunt, his head dips down to nibble the flesh of your neck - sensitive, scratching you with the light stubble on his face. It is hard to focus on something one, his dick throbs within you, like you were born to have him inside your pussy - never vice versa, he is your dad. His hips slam, your body arches into him, his cock grinds every time hitting deep inside your pussy, to the brim - to the point you feel it so deep you overthink it is in your throat for a moment. Anatomically impossible, maybe it is puke. Fuck, you wish it is not. Thoughts fade as your clit even briefly gets the sweet friction every time his pubic bone presses - coaxing more moans out of you.

His orgasm approaches quickly, one would think it is too quick - he’d blame age first, then maybe tell man’s pleasure is on pedestal. Why would he bother with someone’s pleasure if alcohol gives him whiskey dick. His balls tighten with every slap, the sounds of flesh-hitting, your moans all that invite him to be rougher, to bully your cunt and not caring about stingy redness forming. Every slam inside you, grinding up against the sweet spot just to drag it.  Your body shudders eventually, all teasing, edging didn’t disappear fortunately or not - cumming on your dad’s dick is not the best achievement, it sickens you, fills you with the urge to scrub his touch away. Your walls spasm harder around him as a new wave of hard, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. 

“Cum.” Your teeth sink in your lower lip after murmuring weakly. Your hands try to dig into his arms, to hold yourself just to end up in a weak grip, sliding down to keep resting uselessly. “Gonna cum— dad!”

It’s a song to his ears - sweet, kicking him back in the past, all groupies identical to each other. They are young, they have legs, they have breasts and hips to hold, more importantly a hole - you have this too, unlike them your eyes are not full of scaring adoration. You don’t look into his eyes as much as they did. And he likes that. Leon noses your jaw, biting the skin of your neck harder than you ever felt, filling his taste buds with mild iron taste and forcing a squeal, light thrashing that fades away after another slam. Your pussy spasms, more fluid gushes easing strokes. It slides nicely, more freedom to bully your clenching hole. You want this to stop, your vision blurs and tries to keep focused - hard, like a kick in your head as Leon shoves his dick deeper. Overwhelmed, guilty, ashamed but arching and wiggling underneath at the non-stop pounding. 

You try to push him away - useless. Another attempt, another hard shove that hits air out of you. He needs his fill, you are not leaving. Your lips open weakly, begging to stop in a breathless whimper. A pressure in your bladder, an uncomfortable press intensifying with every thrust, every hit to the gummy spot making it worse. Too full, too overwhelmed. Your breathing gets even heavier trying to push him off again - useless, everything you try is. Still the irrational panic is present, something is going to happen, you don’t know what. Your pussy clenches harder around him, tightly than ever, trying to stop the upcoming mess, before his pace stops at one last thrust. Deep inside, messy grinding for the last time. The weight of his body presses on you, grunting against your neck leaving no escape. Thick ropes of cum spurt inside you, for a moment everything feels too real - his sperm is warm, sticky and there is too much. And it hits you again. Your legs tremble, trying to push yourself away weakly, but his weight blocks you. Crushes you like a punch in your abdominal. Not the one he expects at least, feeling stuttering spurts drenching his front and the couch underneath you both. 

“Did you just…” Leon leans back, looking down at your pussy filled with his cock. Brow knitted together trying to understand what the fuck just happened. Young girls are nasty, his dick experienced almost everything; puke after a dumb one thought she’d be able to give him a good deepthroat - in some cases he was the one forcing it deeper. Or coke off his dick, a blonde girl eating ice cream before sucking him off - too many, list goes on and he won’t remember everything sincerely. Words don't come out, a little bit shocking as he tries to reminisce in the past just to find something similar: Did you just squirt? Or is that piss?

And you look confused, even more than him. First, unaware of what happened accompanied with lightness in your bladder. Goosebumps wash over your skin, your body sticks together with uncomfortable wetness. You wish it was just a slick with his cum oozing out of your hole, you fucking wish your body didn’t betray you further than this. Leon presses harder against you, his wrist is on your neck, slowly suffocating with pressure. A squeal escapes, not understanding what you did wrong this time. “S–stop!”

“Your daddy made you squirt, what a nasty whore” Leon grins, watching realization slowly settle. “Or you just pissed yourself, grown up pee girl. Pee girl gets a belt. ”

Leon keeps you like this, watching your face go redder and redder with every second before easing the pressure. His soft cock slips out easily from your already leaking hole.  It delves on you, even more when the warmth of his body withdraws completely.

“Fucking mess” Leon grunts. Barely intelligible, you can hear that.  It is a mess, you made this mess - not him. His footsteps slowly dissipate in the loud bam! The calming, muffled sound of water dripping comes from the bathroom. He is showering. You are alone and alcohol doesn’t help. A wave of nausea, it fades just to return in the same violent intensity. 

Dirtiness and shame wash over you. Your body is not yours, like a big wound in your chest that will leave a black, bleeding scar. This is wrong, this shouldn’t have brought you pleasure, you should have been more defiant, kicked him off you, to bite his lip - anything. Dull pain flashes through your body. Sometimes it is okay to kill yourself - no, it is not, you are being dramatic. You still feel his touch, his dick like phantom pain. It does hurt too, he did take something from you. Awkwardly, curling up with your knees close to your chest, arms wrap around them to bring you some sort of peace, like a dog remaining on the couch.

You don’t like your dad.

…

Insomnia torments you, the sound coming out of the streets gives nothing but fear. You still feel out of your shell, even if he hasn't shown up since forever. You think he is dead, buried in some trash can - the end your dad deserves. Every news gives you hope to see his face, not in some scandals or to show nostalgia to the ex-rock king - too see the sweet word, death. 

So close to fall asleep, so close to avoid the bitter black hole growing in your chest every night. Loud noise, forcing you to flinch. You wish it was a bulgar, maybe it is. You’d give him your dad’s guitar, if it was not already sold. You don’t think so, a treasure of his fame, success - something to brag about, remains to gratify his fragile ego. He is home. Another trashing, something falls and a loud “Fuck”, then silence. You can’t live like this anymore. Getting out of a warm bed, the blanket won’t shield you from the blues of this place. Peeking out of the corner, you can’t really see what has fallen but you can clearly see your dad. On the couch. 

Leon looks like a mess, ruffled hair all over his eyes, laying on the couch. He smells awful, unfamiliar now. Maybe you just missed it - not possible. The smell reminds you of death, not so cool as he was in your child's eyes. Now, much cooler is dead. You pour the water in the glass, no way he is going away with this bullshit, you want to see him drown, to be hurt like you were all these days. Quick motion and chilly tap water splashes on him. Easy sober up method! Watching him shudder and flinch, blue eyes filled with confusion, darting around as his hands run through his hair, slickening it back. It eases the emptiness he left. You feel better. 

“What the fuck?” Leon mutters, wet fabric clings to his body, almost see through. Following wetness, it guides you to his jeans. A big damp patch. 

“You made a mess, again” Lie comes out easily. Not really, there is a drop of truth - that’s his fault. He hums, lips corners tense again as if he wants to say something. He is drunk, not helping with the thought process - slower, dumber. Like you were.

“Did I…” Leon inquiries for a moment, then a pause. Piss myself?

“Yea, of course” You nod, your hand hides the glass behind you. “Looks like the Apple doesn't fall far from the tree” 

[98luck]

A little self indulgent study of Leon Kennedy. Was so much fun rendering his hair!

[98luck]

cowboy leon never dies

[98luck]

Omg the gameplay is something for sure lol but keep going I believe in you

when i die in a game for the umpteenth time and the game suggests i switch to an easier mode

[98luck]

[98luck]

Are Leon’s lips wide as hell in Re4r or is it just me?? 😭

I wouldn't personally call them wide, but they're definitely got some plushness! But, "wide" is subjective so they might look wide to some and small to others.

[98luck]

when i die in a game for the umpteenth time and the game suggests i switch to an easier mode

[98luck]

DEATH ISLAND: LEON KENNEDY

Since I haven't seen any GIFs of this scene, I decided to make them myself. ( LEON DILFFF ♡ .ᐟ.ᐟ )

[98luck]

“Nettles.”

cw: slight angst, babytrapping, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy. // alt title: “american wedding.”

synopsis: after leon broke the news he’d be leaving your hometown to follow his officer dreams, you choose a last resort to make sure he stays with you instead.

You never envisioned yourself as a young bride. You always wanted to get married though, to have a big fairytale wedding. To have a handsome prince come sweep you off your feet. You were halfway there, even if it didn’t happen as conventionally as most marriages do. It wasn’t pretty like the movies. You’d found yourself your prince. Your soon-to-be husband. You didn’t have to kiss any frogs to find him either!

Leon Kennedy. You’d known him since you were teenagers — swiftly falling into a messy relationship neither of you could find your way out of. Now in your early 20’s, it seemed your boyfriend had big dreams. (bigger than you ever did.)

He had dreams of becoming a police officer. He was going to make something of himself. Be somebody, join the field and help people. You were more than proud of him. More than happy to see him be so passionate about something. That is until he announced he was leaving. You were nothing short of devastated. Leaving? Leaving you?

Leon couldn’t do that to you. Not when you’d finally found someone who loved you for who you were. Things made sense with Leon. Everything made sense. You couldn’t fathom not having him just down the block. Not having him wake up next to you? He you assured that he'd stay in touch. He'd call you daily, write letters, anything you wanted. When you could afford it, you could come with him! Right?

You couldn’t let him go that easily. Every way he said it just sounded like abandonment to you. To leaving. You’d be left alone in your hometown without him. You had to do something. When Leon told you, you’d gone and had a bridezilla-level breakdown. Leaving you? He’d scramble to assure you he wasn’t “leaving you.” He hugged you, kissed your face and told you all the sickly sweet promises he couldn’t keep. That’s where it started. You had to do something.

You’d seen all the movies. Juno, Baby Mama, and all the Teen Mom reality TV. In your case, this baby wasn’t a part of your fairytale ending. It was your way to keep the love of your life tied to you. He always would be, one way or another. What made men stay? Not many things, you feared. But a good man like Leon? He was different. He’d never do anything to hurt you or betray you, lie to you. Unlike yourself.

A baby. That’s what would make him stay. The right person will stay.. Maybe with a little push.

You scribbled that part out of your journal entry, bent over your childhood dresser in a thrifted wedding gown. (even had your mom alter the dress.) It was everything you’d never dreamed of. You wanted a big wedding with a ballgown, lavish jewelry and expensive flowers. But you don’t always get what you want. You flipped the pages back, pretty-press on nails tracing the gel-pen words.

Scribbles about how you stopped taking your birth control. You felt a bit bad, knowing you’d lied. You’d blatantly schemed. You knew that lying and going behind your lover's back was no way to build a healthy marriage. But you were never the conventional type. Your eyes glanced up to the mirror beside your dresser. You did your own makeup and curled your own hair. You looked pretty. Like you were going to prom. Not getting married. Your wedding day should’ve been something beautiful.

It was a shotgun wedding, to put it plain and simple. Your wedding night should’ve been the night he gave you that baby. Not before. Leon was hesitant though. You knew it wasn’t part of his plan. (or yours.)

Everything changed the day you handed him the test and pointed out the pink lines. He looked like you’d told him bad news. It was like someone had passed away. Bad news. A baby? Leon was excited to be a father. But now? It wasn’t the right time. Marriage? He’d planned on saving up for your wedding in a couple of years. He’d have a secure job and an apartment, then he’d give you the wedding and life you deserved! But you had him in a tight spot. Exactly where you wanted him. You knew it was wrong. A good part of you knew this was a recipe for .. you paused, scribbling out the words: unhappiness.

That’s exactly what you were setting yourself up for. It was your wedding day! The happiest day of your life. Only, it wasn’t. If anything, this was the biggest mistake you’d ever made. A few knocks on the door stopped your melodramatic journal session.

“How’s my lovely bride doing?”

You dropped your pen and sighed. Bride! The words were so sweet. It made your stomach churn. Or maybe it was morning sickness. “Soon to be. We aren’t married yet, Leon.” You corrected, hearing the door open. “Hey! You aren’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding!” You went to grab the doorknob but paused. “It’s .. bad luck.”

“Bad luck?” You heard him repeat on the other side of the door. Leon sounded amused. So full of life, unlike you. “That’s just an old wives tail.” Always quick to reassure you. You sighed, shaking your head. “What do you want, soon-to-be husband?” You asked, unable to fight the smile on your lips. Husband. You couldn’t believe the words that had come out of your lined lips. Husband.

You heard Leon laugh. “I just wanted to see my beautiful wife. Is that such bad luck?” He asked, leaning his forehead against the door. You knew he was pouting. The poor boy just wanted to see his pretty wife. You knew these were still unconventional circumstances. It was all unconventional, you knew both knew that.

Leon wanted to wait to get married. He was saving up to give you the wedding you deserved. Not a wedding at the chapel with what was left of his college fund. But you were pregnant.

A baby, his baby.

“Come on. Let me see you.” He tried the doorknob. “It’ll only be a second.”

“A second?” You scoffed, giving him space to open the door.

“Uh-huh.”

“Just a second. You get one second.” You stifled a laugh, opening the door for him. You stepped back, taking in the sight of Leon. Your soon-to-be husband. He had on the same black tux he’d rented for prom and a boyish smile that always melted your heart. “Wow..” Leon reached out to you, hands carefully brushing up your arms to rest on your elbows. He was almost at a loss for words. You smiled, face flushing red.

“Look at you.” He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your hips. “You look beautiful.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Don’t, don’t mess up my makeup.” You whined, pushing him away with a laugh. “Oh-? I’m not allowed to love on my wife?” Leon kissed you again, making quite the show of it.

You laughed, unable to resist his charms. “Soon-to-be!” You corrected between giggles. “Mm. ‘can’t believe it.” He spoke against your lips. “Me neither.” You deadpanned but still gave a smile. “How’s .. How are you feeling?” He asked, thumb brushing over your belly. The reason you were even getting married. “Good.” You placed your hand over his on your stomach.

“I’m so happy, Leon.” You smiled up at him. “You’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. Just by being mine..” You squeezed his hand. Yours. You saw his smile. Genuine and kind — but you could tell he wasn’t ready. At 21, Leon planned on moving away to chase his dreams of being an officer. In time, you could come with him and build a life. Maybe this was bad luck.

“That’s sweet.” He kissed you again, pouring all that puppy love into it. Kissed you like he could never get enough.

“Mhm .. Leon. I think your second is up.” You smiled against his lips. “Baby,” Leon reluctantly pulled away, hands resting on your hips. “You look so pretty. I love you, you know I do.” He rested his forehead against yours and gave you another gentle kiss. “I know you do.” You whisper back, feeling a surge of emotions. Love. Leon loved you, and you loved him. You wouldn’t be there if he didn’t love you.

“Cars waiting,” Leon spoke up, leaning back to see your pretty face. “I would’ve gotten you a limousine but-" He shrugged, at a loss. “Don’t start with me.” You laughed, slipping past him to check yourself out in the mirror. You knew he was honest though. If he could’ve afforded it, you would’ve had the wedding of your dreams.

“I’m missing my earring!” You hissed, looking around the dresser for it. “I’m gonna search the bathroom, maybe it fell off in the sink. Can you check in here?” You turned to Leon, biting your lip. “Calm down, I’m sure we’ll find it.” He rubbed your shoulders. “Go check the bathroom, I’ll check in here.” You nodded, heading off for the bathroom.

Leon scanned your dresser, cluttered with makeup and jewelry. “Feels like I’m playing eye spy.” He mumbled, pausing once he spotted a small journal. A diary. Your diary. He knew it was an invasion of privacy to read someone’s diary. To snoop in what wasn’t his. But you were getting married. What was yours was his now. Wasn’t it?

“Let’s see what you’ve been hiding, Mrs. Kennedy.” He laughed to himself, flipping through the pages. It was all written in colorful gel-pen. Cute. But nothing about what he was reading made him feel warm inside.

Leon’s smile dropped, the corners quivering as he muttered the words to himself. The diary entries. You wrote about how you stopped taking your birth control, assured him he and how happy you were that he was staying. How you’d .. planned this.

“I didn’t see myself becoming a bride so young. This is a recipe for unhappiness...” He read aloud, that part scribbled out.

“Leon? Have you found it yet?” You asked from the bathroom. Voice tight and fearful. Just like your writing was. He set the diary down, hands trembling. The truth was out. You lied to him — This wasn’t an accident at all.

“Leon!” You poked your head out, a pout on your glossy pink lips. He was quick to act natural, fixing his tie when you shouted at him. He looked like he was about to cry. Like a scolded puppy. “Did you find it?” You asked, hands on your hips. He looked back to the dresser, picking up the first earring he saw. They all looked the same to him anyway.

“This what you were looking for?” He put on his bravest face, presenting it to you. “You found it!” You let out a breath of relief, grabbing it from him. “Aw, Leon.. You’re a lifesaver.” You smushed a kiss on his cheek and hugged him tight. Women..

He rubbed your back, feeling the bare skin from your wedding dress. “I like your dress.” He thought out loud. “It’s beautiful.” Leon kissed the top of your head and rested his chin on it. “Even more beautiful with you in it.” He held you close, arms tightening around your back. It was true. You were a beautiful bride. One that had gone to drastic measures to get him to stay.

“You mean that?” You asked voice muffled against his broad chest. “Do I .. Are you serious?” He pulled you away, holding your cheeks in his hands. You looked pretty, so pretty. “Yes. Yes.” He nodded, his eyes as glassy as yours were. “You’re breathtaking. The dress ..” He pulled away, scoping it out “It could use a little work.” He teased, squishing your cheek a bit. “Oh, shut up. It’s the only decent one they had. I can’t help it I..” You trailed off, playful smile dropping.

“You look pretty. Really.” Leon took the missing earring from your fingers and fumbled to put it in for you. “You do too.” You whispered, looking up at him. The look of love. Love? He knew you weren’t happy about being pregnant. Knew you lied about being on the pill to what .. baby trap him? He would’ve waited for you, he had your lives planned out. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now, but go up from here.

“I look pretty?” Leon asked, trying to stay lighthearted. “Gee, thanks.”

“Leon.” You rolled your eyes, bumping him with your hips to move away from the mirror. He caught a good look at your reflection. At the both of you. A nice looking couple. You looked together. Husband and wife. You .. He couldn’t hate you. He couldn’t hold it against you. Not for long, at least.

“Awww, look at us.” You gushed, squishing Leon’s cheeks. “Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy.” You grinned. Yet it didn’t quite meet your eyes. Before your soon-to-be husband could say anything, a horn interrupted this bittersweet moment. “That’s our cue.” Leon kissed your fingers and took your hand. He cleared his throat, giving your reflections one last glance.

“What are you two lovebirds up to? You know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” You heard your mother-in-law outside. Oh, the woman you’d be living next door to.

Bad luck? Maybe that’s what this was.

“Ugh. Do I have to call her mom?” You asked, rolling your eyes as you took Leon’s hand. He didn’t answer that silly question. He simply followed behind you like an obedient puppy. People did say he followed you like one. He loved you like a dog, and you’d betray him like a man.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The car ride was tense, you sat thigh-to-thigh with Leon, holding his hand tight. You gave him a smile. “You okay?” You asked, shifting in the backseat to see him better. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” You frowned.

“No. No, It’s not that.” He looked away, squeezing your hand. “Then what is it? Leon.. If you’re not ready-"

“I am.” He cut you off. “I promise. You’ve made me the happiest man alive. Don’t doubt that.” He brought your hand up to his lips. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” His voice trembled as if holding much more back. You both knew the truth.

“Look at that. We made it in one piece.” Leon smirked, nodding as the car pulled up to the chapel. It was better than the courthouse. You deserved better than this though. As you checked your makeup in the window reflection, he was starting to think maybe he deserved better as well.

“Ready?” You turned to him, reaching out to fix his tie. “You look so nervous.” You met Leon’s eyes. Baby blues once full of so life now seemed .. empty. It was almost as if you were going to a funeral, not his own wedding. “I’m not nervous.” He held your hands on his tux. “I’m just .. “ He searched your face. Pretty, you looked so pretty. Pretty as the day he met you.

“Excited.”

“Excited is one way to put it.” You gave his lips a peck. Leon closed his eyes, even chased after that kiss — before you pulled away. “We should go. Don’t want anyone to think I’m the one who got cold feet.” You tease. You reach to open the door, but he stopped you. “Hold on. I’ll get it.” He patted your thigh. Glamorous, but not what you deserved.

“Hmm,” You smiled and sat still. “What a gentleman.” Leon was a gentleman, in all the ways you could ask for. He was polite, considerate, and putty in your hands. He smiled at your words, giving your thigh a squeeze before circling the car. He stepped out and looked over at the Chapel. A wedding. His wedding.

He opened the car door and took your hand. God, you looked beautiful. “Forgetting something?” He looked you over, feeling that something was missing.

“Oh! My veil!” You nodded, turning around to search the backseat. “I can’t believe I almost forgot that. I would’ve like, called the whole thing off without it.” You joked, retrieving it off the floor of the car. “Okay.” You held it out, letting Leon take it from you. “Let me.” He shook it off, turning you around by the shoulders. “Thanks. My sweet husband..” You tease, looking back at him. “Not yet. Remember?” He repeated your earlier quip. You weren’t married, not yet. You still had to sign those papers, Mrs. Kennedy in fancy cursive.

“Almost husband. Soon to be.. Jesus, I can’t believe it.” You held your stomach, taking deep breaths. “Neither can I. Trust me.” He fastened the veil into your hair. “I’m really happy, Leon. I just..” You reached back to make sure it was in nicely. “Is something wrong?” He kept his hands on your shoulders as you turned to face him. Poor thing — He looked at you like you’d broken his heart. In a way, you had.

“Never mind.” You shook your head. “I don’t want to ruin our special day with my .. emotions.” You waved your hand and touched up your false lashes as if on the verge of tears. “Hey, hey ..” Leon took your hands. “You’re not ruining anything. You hear me? We’re doing this together... Because we love another.” He smiled.

“Cmon. We’ve got a wedding to attend.” He kissed your forehead and led you towards the Chapel. “It’s my wedding. I could be late if I wanted to.” You tease, elbowing his stomach. Made him scoff softly. “I’d rather not be late to my own wedding.” He led you inside, slipping through the back to avoid the guests.

You followed him, hand in hand as you rethought your vows in your head. The same ones you wrote in your diary at home. All those pretty words couldn’t save either of you now. “Hey, Leon?” You turned back to him, leaning back against a stained-glass window. “Do you remember when we met?” You ask, running your fingers over his knuckles.

Leon’s once troubled expression softened. “Of course I do..” He took your dolled-up face in his hands. “I remember it being like this. Running around like we’d get caught together.” He was smiling again, the same boyish grin you fell in love with. “You’re just as beautiful as the day we met.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and smiled.

“If not prettier,” Leon mumbled between kisses, arms wrapping around your back. He held you tight, close. If he kissed you long enough, maybe things would be the way they used to be. You were once teenagers in fumbling love, twisted in bedsheets, (how you get here..) and now, what awaited you? Motherhood? An unhappy marriage?

You pulled away at the sound of a worn-out piano. No doubt used for spur-of-the-moment weddings like your own. “Guess that’s our cue.” You whispered, resting your hands on his over your cheeks. Maybe you were doomed from the start. At least you’d be together. Misery loves company after all. “Think of all the time we’ll have together. All the memories we’ll make..” You sighed wistfully as if those days were already long gone.

“I love you.” You say once more, voice quiet. As if it was sacred—like you weren’t about to tie yourself to the boy you loved forever. You knew Leon would never leave you. No matter what you did to him. No matter how much you lied or betrayed him - He’d be the one person left at your feet.

“Love you too.” Leon let you go, resting his hand on your belly. You could pass off as bloated, nobody would expect a thing, but you knew they did. Most 21-year-olds were busy chasing a career, not putting a ring on it before your second trimester. “And .. I hope it’s a girl.” He whispered, sounded happy. Even if it’s not what he wanted—not like this. In years time, he’d love to be a father. “Mhm. Maybe she’ll get your pretty eyes.” You rest your hand over his. Palms sweaty — hands trembling.

A daughter. A pretty little baby .. a baby. Maybe he could save her from turning out like you. Jesus, he was in deep. Kiss Racoon City goodbye.

“Cmon. The guests are going to think we eloped.” He took your hand, leading the two of you off to the altar. A small venue, almost suffocating.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You stood at the altar, taking his shaking hands in yours.

“Do you take __ As your lawfully wedded wife?” The priest asked Leon, who blinked back tears at the sight of your face. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all.

Hours ago, he was more than happy to marry you. Now? It was as if reality was setting in. An uncertain future — one he had naively planned out for the both of you. He parted his lips to speak — almost hesitant. You both knew he wouldn’t do that to you.

“I do.”

You felt the tension leave your body, everything else drowned out by your heartbeat — everything but your husband’s trembling breath. Your pretty face was stained with mascara tears, sealing your vows with a kiss. Maybe it wasn’t pretty like the movies — but it was yours.

Whatever was to come, at least you wouldn’t be alone — you’d suffer each other together.

[98luck]

i have to look at leon daily or else i start to get withdrawals

[98luck]

[98luck]

di leon & his new younger girlfriend that nobody rlly comments on bcs he’s been through an awful lot & he treats her well so who cares… opens the car door for her & unbuckles her seatbelt & lets her max out his work credit card vs vendetta leon & the daughter he found out he had two decades later that he conveniently forgets about until he’s in town & his dick is working

[98luck]

LITTLE MISS ༺☆༻

vendetta!leon x afab!reader

WARNINGS: dead dove: do not eat, smut (mdni!), toxic relationship, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation, emotional abuse, degradation, overstimulation, choking, probably more…

Summary: Leon loves you with an intensity that hurts. No matter how hard you cry or how much you ache, he’ll make sure you remember: you’re his, forever.

Notes: hii everypony !!! i kinda hate this one but it's been rotting in the drafts for a while so it's time for her to shine i guess...i promise i'm working on pt 2 of fratboy leon i just need a little more time !!! i hope you like this one. if you don't, i get it. take care my loves <33

Leon loved you in the only way he knew how. Ugly. Possessive. Bruising. He stood over you now, hands still tangled in your hair, your cheeks flushed and wet with tears. Not from pain…not exactly. From the way he kissed you like a punishment, from the way he shoved himself inside you like he was trying to brand you, like he could shove all his darkness deep inside and chain you to him.

“You’re mine.” Leon rasped against your mouth, thrusting up hard enough to make the counter creak, to punch the breath from your lungs. “Say it.”

You nodded frantically, gripping his broad shoulders, your nails biting into his scarred skin. “I’m yours, Leon.” you choked out. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his expression a twisted one caught between reverence and rage.

“That’s fucking right.” he snarled. “No one else touches you. No one else looks at you.”

You whimpered when he shoved in deeper, the swollen head of his cock nudging your cervix, the stretch almost painful. Almost. “Bet you love this, don’t you?” Leon gritted out, thrusting brutally. “Love it when I fuck you so hard you can’t think.” You sobbed, tears spilling freely now, but you couldn’t deny it. Your body clung to him, shaking with need, helpless against the way he was tearing you apart.

Leon laughed, a low, broken sound, and pressed a harsh kiss to your throat, his teeth scraping your skin, leaving angry red marks. “You’re such a good little thing” he muttered, hips slamming into you harder, making you cry out. “Always so sweet. So easy for me.” He grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head against the cabinets, his other hand squeezing your throat just enough to make you gasp, your vision hazing slightly.

“You think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he growled against your ear. “Think anyone else could even handle you?” You shook your head frantically, your body trembling under his punishing rhythm. “No, Leon.” you sobbed, the words slurring together with broken, desperate moans.

“Only you.”

His hand tightened briefly around your throat in approval before sliding down to grab your hips, forcing you to take every brutal, punishing thrust. “That’s my girl” he murmured, almost tenderly. “Fucking bitch, ruined for anyone else.”

When you finally came, it was violent, you were a wrecked, whimpering thing, barely human. your walls clamping down so tightly around him that he lost control. Leon came with a low, guttural growl, hips jerking hard, forcing himself impossibly deeper, burying every last drop inside you like he was planting a flag. A low, broken snarl ripped from his chest, his hips slamming against you one final, brutal time. He stayed buried deep inside you, cock twitching, flooding you with his release. So much that you could feel it leak out around him, messy and hot.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull out.

Didn’t let you go.

Instead, Leon crushed your body against his, wrapping his arms around you so tightly it almost hurt. His forehead pressed hard against your shoulder, his breathing ragged. “Don’t you fucking move.” he growled against your skin. “You’re staying right here. Stuffed full of me where you belong.” You whimpered weakly, overstimulated, body aching, but you nodded, helpless to do anything else. He hadn’t just claimed your body. He’d broken you.

Leon’s hands roamed roughly over your back. Aggressively groping your hips, your thighs, like he was reassuring himself you were still here. Still his. His cock stayed buried inside you, softening only slightly, keeping his seed deep inside like a mark of ownership. “Look at you.” he muttered, pulling back just enough to stare down at you, flushed, ruined, teary-eyed. “Fucking perfect. No one’s ever gonna want you after this.”

You shook your head weakly, tears slipping down your cheeks. You didn’t want anyone else. You just wanted him. Leon cupped your face roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Say it.” he demanded. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’ll never leave.” 

“I’m yours.” you sobbed, your voice barely a whisper. “I’ll never leave you, Leon.” He kissed you then. His teeth scraped your lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating you even in the kiss. When he finally pulled back, he was smiling, a dark, twisted smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Good girl.” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “My pretty little mess. All mine now.” You thought maybe he would let you rest, but Leon had other plans.

Without warning, he rolled his hips again, his cock still inside you, half-hard but growing against your overstretched walls. You cried out, your whole body flinching. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he said darkly, pressing slow, shallow thrusts into your overstimulated cunt, making you squirm. “I need you to really learn who you belong to.”

“Leon, please—” Your begging only made him grin wider. “Shh.” he crooned mockingly.

“You can take it, baby. Just one more for me, yeah?”

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly off the counter, carrying you toward the bedroom, his cock still locked inside you the whole way. You clung to him, dazed and wrecked, your head spinning. As he laid you down on the bed, Leon leaned over you, trapping you under his weight, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “You can't leave me.” he said again, as if daring you to try. “Not now. Not ever. You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

He started moving again, slow at first, dragging it out, building you up until you were sobbing. Leon was relentless. He wouldn’t stop until you couldn’t think of anything, anyone else but him. Until you became his.

Forever.

∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ 

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the grimy blinds, painting pale stripes across the tiny kitchen. You sat at the table, legs tucked under yourself, wearing nothing but one of Leon’s old T-shirts, the one that smelled like him, the one he made you put on after he finished ruining you the night before.

Your thighs ached. Your throat was raw. You could still feel him between your legs, sore and messy.

Leon stood at the stove, frying eggs. He looked so casual, so domestic, like he hadn’t spent the whole night using you like a cheap sexdoll. You watched him silently, heart hammering too fast for no reason. Maybe he could feel your stare, because after a moment he glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes catching you, pinning you.

A small, dangerous smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s the matter, pup?” he drawled lazily. “Can’t even sit right after what I did to you?” You flushed, curling in on yourself instinctively. Your throat bobbed, but you didn’t say anything.

Leon snorted under his breath. He plated the food, two eggs, two pieces of toast, and dropped the plate in front of you with a heavy clatter that made you flinch. He leaned down, crowding you against the chair, his rough palm sliding possessively up your bare thigh, squeezing too tightly, not enough to bruise, but enough to remind you who you belonged to. “Eat.” he ordered. “Gotta keep my puppy strong if I’m gonna fuck you like that again tonight.”

You picked up the fork with trembling fingers. Forced yourself to take a bite under his watchful gaze. Leon stayed there for a moment longer, looming over you, his fingers idly stroking the inside of your thigh, tender and terrifying at the same time. “You’re not leaving.” he said softly, almost conversationally, like they were simple words. “Not today. Not ever.” You swallowed hard. Nodded. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to.

Leon straightened up finally, ruffling your hair in a mockingly gentle gesture, before grabbing a beer from the fridge, at barely nine a.m. He popped the cap, leaned against the counter, and watched you eat with a dark, unreadable expression. Like he was daring you to even think about running.

And you sat there, obedient, broken, loved too much and not enough, the echo of his hands and his teeth still written into your skin. You were his now. You always would be.

No matter how much it hurt.

[98luck]

[98luck]

Me pushing Capcom HQ's security guard out the way so I can free Dante, Fiona, Jill and Claire from capcom's basement

[98luck]

happy pride finger a femme today