melanchol1cs

[melanchol1cs]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your idols and you. ♡

SUMMARY: just a bunch of saja boys NSFW prompts && drabbles. <3

PAIRINGS: SAJA BOYS/you, JINU/you, ABBY/you, ROMANCE/you, BABY/you, MYSTERY/you.

A/N: I KNOW I HAVE OTHER PROMPTS TO WRITE BUT AAAA I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH. <3

the meanest. ♡

the one who’ll make you plead, make you cry from being edged for too long. slap your cunt when you cum against his wishes, but mocks you for cumming too quickly. will break you. degradation galore.

BABY, MYSTERY.

the nastiest. ♡

spit, public play; maybe make his members watch while he fucks you in full nelson. has a collection of you at your most depraved: a picture from above while you suck him off, his cock coated in your mess, the bulge of your throat when he has your head hanging from the edge of the bed.

MYSTERY, BABY.

the most obsessive—err, possessive. ♡

has you covered in his bites. loves to make you scream his name, remind you who you belong to. adores how you smell jus’ like him when you leave his room. will literally scare off other men that dared to look at your direction.

oh, and jerks off to your panties.

all of them tbh. | JINU, ABBY, MYSTERY.

the sweetest. ♡

puts you first. will have you cumming five times before he can even take his clothes off. takes his sweet, sweet time in ruining you. will talk you through it while he’s riding out your sixth orgasm with skilled, circular rolls of his hips.

ROMANCE. duh. who else.

the biggest . . 👀 ( with visual, please be advised! )

ABBY — do i even need to explain? 9 - 11 inches. he's big. thick and fucking veiny. #CE7788. manscapes. has heavy, fat balls that's 'nuff to smother you, probably. will bulge from your tummy. has a sensitive tip, too. certified cervix breaker.

JINU — 8 - 9 inches. so fuckin' girthy you can barely make your fingertips touch together. has a prominent vein that runs down his shaft whenever he's hard, especially when he's pent up. bruiser. #F1A5AA. trimmed, always has a happy trail. a little curved.

MYSTERY — 8 inches. pretty smooth with a bulbous tip. leaks a lot of pre. a lot. a little on the hairy side. he adores seeing your nose buried in those darker tufts. has sensitive balls. #E9A6B2.

ROMANCE — 8 inches. the prettiest dick eveeeeer. he prefers manscaping but if you ever asked him to, yk, be a little hairier, he'll definitely grow it out for you. maybe leaning towards the left. #B56182. plump balls. lighter at the shaft, pinker at the head. has some purplish veins running down along it when he's pent up.

BABY — 7 - 8 inches. trimmed. has a fat fucking tip. #CD9F8F. smooth, but will occasionally have some veins peeking through. not as girthy, but the length compensates. don't be fooled—BABY 100% knows how to use it. he has sensitive balls, too.

most likely to break the bed. ♡

ABBY. i don’t need to explain.

most likely to ruin you for anyone else.

will have you crawling back to him. metaphorically, literally—it doesn’t really matter. you’ll come back for more.

MYSTERY, JINU, ROMANCE, BABY, ABBY.

most likely to fuck you stupid. ♡

they'll have you sobbing, shaking while every drag of his cock's making you writhe. cradles your head while he's deep, deep in you in a mean mating press. jus' can't stop fuckin' you because your cunt's too good, your expressions just make his cock throb every time. 

MYSTERY, BABY, ABBY, JINU, ROMANCE.

most blessedcursed with stamina. ♡

ABBY, JINU.

praise enthusiasts. ♡

JINU, ROMANCE, ABBY.

degradation enthusiasts. ♡

MYSTERY, BABY, JINU, ABBY.

loves seeing you beneath him - ♡ missionary, mating press, etc.

ROMANCE, JINU, ABBY, MYSTERY, BABY.

loves having you on top of him - ♡ cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, lotus, straddling his lap, etc.

ROMANCE, ABBY, JINU, BABY, MYSTERY.

orally fixated. ♡

ROMANCE, JINU.

will manhandle you. ♡

ABBY, JINU.

who cums the most?

ABBY, ROMANCE, JINU, MYSTERY, BABY.

teases the most.

all of them. | JINU, ABBY, ROMANCE, BABY, MYSTERY.

"mine,"

JINU's teeth sink into your skin. he can smell your arousal, smell that cunt. he's practically salivating, tongue nursing the harsh bites he'd bestow on your soft skin. patterned dexterity aids in wrapping your legs around his waist as he sheathes into you for the nth time tonight.

"only i can see you like this. you're so pretty. my pretty human,"

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ──

a thick bicep locks around your neck, squishing your cheeks in the process. your whimpers are more ragged, breathy, while ABBY's rutting into you from behind; hips slamming into you harshly again and again and again. "i love your fucking cunt. look at you, slutty girl. all you've done is—," his words are punctuated by a savage, punishing slam, and ABBY keeps himself sheathed, still.

"—cream all over my dick. are you sure you won't pass out— ♡ ?"

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ──

moans are too audible in your room, alongside loud, obscene squelching that were none other than MYSTERY's fingers pumping in and out of soaked pussy. trembles visibly run through your frail, human body as he curves his fingers up, against that spot. you were so close. so, so close, but he slides his fingers too quickly, and your hips are chasing the air.

"ah-ah-ah. not yet, my pretty slut."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ──

fingers card through his soft locks, legs closing in on his head as his tongue flicks against your clit. the sting doesn't seem to bother ROMANCE, though, only digging into his favourite meal as he runs a long stripe of his tongue from your creamy slit up to your pillowy mons. "you taste so good, my love," he whispered, placing kisses on it.

"i don't wanna stop . . i love you, love tasting you . . "

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ──

"n, no, do—!"

the bed creaks under your weight as you squirmed, legs kicking 'n back arching as BABY pinched your sensitive clit. "i told you not to cum. who let you cum, sweetheart? you're so cute, it's pathetic." smack! oh, fuck, the way your cunt twitches against the smack of his palm. fuck . . "s, sorry, 'm sorry . . " you hiccuped, looking at him with red, teary eyes. there was an attempt to close your legs, but a firm hand ensnares your knee; a warning guised in a thumb rubbing your puffy clit.

"i don't think so."

end,

[melanchol1cs]

need abby to dick me down rn ugh

[melanchol1cs]

Made when Re9 was announced

[melanchol1cs]

happy father’s day you old hag

[melanchol1cs]

whatever you say beautiful

(so that re9 trailer...)

[melanchol1cs]

HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THE NEW RE9 TRAILER!?!?? HELLOOO leon better be there or i’ll go crazyyyyy😖🤧

[melanchol1cs]

had to rewrite an entire fic cuz i hated the way my sentences were structured, now i have to start fron scratch </3

[melanchol1cs]

thoughts on a cheating leon fic based on this? </3

[melanchol1cs]

HELLLOOOO??!!!? smash.

VERSPRECHEN

Leon Kennedy x female reader

MDNI!! 18+ | dead dove do not eat, incest, dad-daughter incest, female reader, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, Leon is full of guilt and alcoholic, age gap, a little bit of absent dad, teasing, he is sweet, pet names :3

summary: Good deeds get overshadowed by his past easily and now he has failed you, the daughter he has been neglecting unwillingly. Unaware of your existence. Alcohol doesn't favour good memory and his head is a blank, buzzing place - repeating the same scenarios of failing over and over. No time to remember the old quickie and his weak pull out game. You would understand your dad, right? Starting today, he is going to try his best. 

tags: @melanchol1cs

Being a dad is not an easy task, at least for Leon - grew old, ruffled and eyes painted with tiredness that doesnt hide his sleepless nights. A gift his job has given him. Your existence was a surprise, not sure if pleasant one or not due to the additional weight on his shoulders; his absence in your life, you never knew your own dad even though this is a common phenomenon. Men are not good with responsibility, probably genetics - he can feel it in his blood too, every day full of routine without anything good throbbing with the need to escape. 

He feels like he has failed Marvin, Claire with the chip and himself at Raccoon city, good deeds get overshadowed by his past easily and now he has failed you, the daughter he has been neglecting unwillingly. Unaware of your existence. Or not, drunken habits don't favour good memory for important tasks and his head is a blank, buzzing place - repeating the same scenarios of failing over and over. No time to remember the old quickie and his weak pull out game. You would understand your dad, right? Starting today, he is going to try his best. 

Reconciliation is weird, it is hard, unusual and nerve-wracking - like first sex as a college student in some crampy place, behind doors full of people laughing and doing their shit while one is risking his dignity just for the feel of pussy. Leon doesn’t know how you are supposed to look, but not so… neutral? Not affected by his absence? Of course your mom could have other men, but they can’t be your father figures, right? Too many doubts, full of them actually until your lips curl up, caught on his nerves. He is supposed to be the adult one, responsible, crumbling like a teenager in front of you. 

“Wow, on photo albums you had lighter hair!“ You are so sweet in his eyes, like candy rolling on his tongue, he’d have a full pack of those sweets, a cavity from you would be just a light punishment from what he has done. “We have a lot to catch up, i think”

He can’t say the same, after all Leon has never seen you before. 

“Mmm..” Leon hums, feeling his palms getting sweaty, another lump forms not letting him swallow. He needs to cough it out - the embarrassment that stuck in his throat. 

His eyes drift across your face, lingering on every detail like it is his first time seeing a young woman. Partially true. The curves of your lips, eyelashes flutter as dusty particles make contact with you - enticing, something so perfect, untainted by his absence urges him to change. To be better, stop drinking and be a man, not to disappoint you. There wouldn’t be many chances now.

How to compensate for his absence? There is awkwardness, how does one even apologize for that? How does a dad act? Uncertain

Years and years of not being present would not be easy to forgive, it is hard to get closer with him too - after all he is almost a stranger to you. So, on one of sleepless nights he realized there is a way, slow one but secure for now. Money. To spoil you.  

“Have you seen this one???” Your voice squeals from the dynamics of his phone, Leon distanced himself from it - he doesn't need to become deaf already. “This perfume is so expensive!!! Ugh, and I don't have any more on my card!”

“Does it smell nice?” 

“Like cherry!!! Daddy would adore it! I will use it everyday for you” For Leon. Your words are honest, hitting the bullseye in his heart at this point - his cock too, now straining against his jeans. Like he is back to his younger years, head full of wet dreams - with dick harder than ever but no way to get it wet. Leon can imagine vividly your pouty expression or docile look while clinging to his side to get what you need. 

“Dad got me, I hope?”

“Yea, dad got you.” Always.

First week you almost drained his credit card, watching a notification after another  pop up on the screen of his phone - it feeds into his ego nicely, like a blessing at first, the tie of guilt eases up even shortly. A relief. You’d call or send him a voice message, rambling about how nice your dad is and how much you love him, then mention some stuff - expensive makeup, pretty clothes with promise of you showing it for him. Then he’d send you the amount you needed. 

Still it doesn’t help with the guilt, nothing does actually. But this especially makes it worse now, you don’t even need to call daddy the dearest anymore, even though it saddenns him, more independent, far away from him while Leon is all alone in his office, thinking about your face: eyes glancing up through eyelashes, that curtains your iris pretty, a docile look. He misses you, wishing for a more dependent girl leeching at his side so your voice would ring in his ear all day. Leon already gave you his card, it would be a bad taste to take it away just to get more attention from his daughter. 

Panacea for his guilt is whiskey, it never left his side, like the best lover coddling him with sweet whispers about you now. He never expected his daughter to fill his thoughts like an alcohol fills the glass in his hand. The latter may be bitter, burning his throat just to get warmth spread in his stomach - easing his mind. But you give this immediately, accompanied with the thoughts of you in between his legs: a hand on his thigh, looking up with the same look you have been giving him all this time, palming his cock. And your nails would look so good with his cock in your fist, neat with pretty pastel color or even better french manicure - he paid for this, looking pretty thanks to him.  His money, not some young brainless boy’s. The former one’d abandon you, while Leon has promised to be here. For you. 

Perfect shaped lips too, plush flesh that begs to be kissed or to be enveloped around his cock. Or your pussy, puffy folds glistening with arousal, begging him to taste it - so fucking wet for your dad, like a good girl spreading her legs in front of him, so sweet and nice certainly letting him indulge in your body - the image of it fills his brain every evening - drunk or not, while you cling to his side, watching cheap action movies on TV. He got plenty of CDs of those, they are no brainer - good food for it to rest, easier now with you as his gaze would stay on your body. 

This is wrong, this is not dear dad’s thoughts - he is pent up, to the brim that’s why his head is a mess. Leon can’t help, he is not above this by imagining you in different poses like those girls in raunchy magazines. Full of you, you bent over or your legs pressed up to your chest, showing your pussy shamelessly, glistening with slickness. He wishes it was you every time they get pulled out another, old ones out of stock - some sperm tainted brain men would kill for these. At some point he glued your face on those models, printing your photos just to cut out carefully - vivid imagination is good, but his drenching and painful throbbing cock kicks it out. The same little cut out photos of you get ripped, nut clarity hits hard. Like a bat, swearing this was the last time. Leon has never had good luck with women and his job took roots in his life, it has the role of a jealous lover, deeply murdering all possible will to catch something better. Tinder is a failure too, in his case, a match every once in a full moon. 

Glancing through the gap of your unclosed room, he drinks on the sight of your frame laying on the bed; unaware of his presence, scrolling through some dumb social media and not chatting with someone else, he hopes. His eyes caress your body, drifting from your back - pretty, would look even prettier under him arching as his cock would hit all the right spots. And the roundness of your ass accentuated by those shorts, so tight on your curves he wants to sink his teeth on the softness, bite it, to feel you flinch and wiggle, to mark you.

God, you are so fucking pretty.

“What is my pretty missy doing?” He grunts, landing on top of you. A little bit too close at first, his chest pushes against your back, knocking you forward ever slightly. Alcohol makes him clumsy, even worse than college girl tripping over their high heels - he settles a knee on one side, propping himself with an elbow and boxing you underneath him, unbalanced or not - a good excuse for his hand to creep on your waist, it is impossible to keep his hands to himself. You are soft and warm, lacking the hardness that his body possesses after years of training and being thrown like a ragdoll. The bed cracks underneath your frame and air fills with whiskey. Not a cheap one at least, you are grateful for that. 

“Nothing!” He leans closer, nosing the sweet curve of your shoulder, burying his face in the base of your neck for a moment - filling his senses with a cherry smell. Emerging images of a garden with cherry trees blossoming and you stand there, waiting for him. And he’d be the happiest man alive. It is intoxicating, addicting and you were right - Leon adores it, too much. 

While at it, Leon hums at your answer, giving a kiss on your shoulder blade. The hand caresses your side, sliding easily lower to grip your hip. A squeeze, you flinch with a chuckle.

“You okay?” Leon watches you nod. It is weird, alcohol supposes to kill his boner or make it harder, usually it worked like that before you began looming in front of his eyes. Better than porn, better than magazines - their front shots don’t have you. 

Leon shifts his weight lower, not really listening to your answer - a small talk, a question without looking for a real answer as his focus is on his straining dick. After years of his dick barely here, it is something refreshing, returning back to his young years while the biggest problem was to get his dick wet. Or not to cum too quickly. Serious ones, still suffering even at his big age. His knee presses more into the mattress. Leaning back even slightly just to end up almost being pushed by an invisible hand on you. New strategy, his hand squeezes harder for the last time before abandoning and with it, the warmth withdrew too.

“What are you doing?” There is an evident confusion in your voice, usually you don't question his doings - alcoholic and old man, leaving him to deal with his own burden. Leon wouldn’t tell you anyway. Your eyebrows furrow, darting to him before he clicks with his tongue, pushing your head back to its former position. 

“Don’t frown. I’m just getting…“ Leon murmurs, a pause as his eyes dart around your body again. His throat feels drier, thank god you can’t see Adam's apple bobbing often after every swallow. “Comfortable, there is not enough space for me..”

With a heavy grunt pushing himself up with his elbow to sit on his knees now, straddling your hips - quick and getting to his head - light dizziness, clearly close to failure again, not now though. His palm presses on your back briefly applying more weight before he recollects himself. His eyes fell down, now noticing how close your ass is to his bulge. Maybe he is imagining, from this point of view your ass perks up - two perfectly rounded flesh, silky shorts tighten around them and his jeans are suffocatingly tight. A light pressure on the button and it pops out, without even doing anything - seeing a damp patch on his boxers. God, he is pent up, of course, that’s the reason. The shame washes away as his fist grips his cock. Maybe alcohol messes up with the perception of temperature, but his dick feels burning in his palm. It throbs with the need to be inside you, or to be in between your cheeks, tip rolling and smearing your soft rounded flesh - cumming on them, would be a perfect sight to see his cum on your ass, rolling down on its curve. Slit is hidden by half transparent beads, a prominent vein pulses in his hold or maybe it is his heart.  His cock leaks pre-cum, like some sort of inexperienced boy and that’s embarrassing. It is normal, normal to be hard as rock and leaking like some virgin man. 

But for his own daughter? Not a common experience, certainly unique. Impossible to share without being a creep, not everyone understands what years of no sex can force a man to do. And alcohol? A certified mess, big one, enormous. 

Your hips wriggle underneath him, before he leans to box you back, propping on the elbow as he tries to slide it inside. His cock slots in between your lips just right, folds press against his tip before giving a sloppy thrust forward - you are so wet, squelching noises with every slow slide. Pussy straight out of porn, he imagined them like that - puffy, greedy and leaking like some kind of slut against him. Your slick sticks so right across his flesh after every slow motion of his hips. This can't be his daughter, no way. He stops briefly just to be sure this is real. You are wetter than any woman he has ever been with, no way he is going to use lube or spit tonight.  “Stay still for dad now”

Guiding his cock to your soaked hole, even notching his tip feels amazing right. Those are years of not being laid, he missed that. He missed feeling a soft body beneath him, to watch body jiggle with every thrust too - finally, he can find comfort and satisfy the need in you. The angle is hard, but he still tries to watch as after a push his cock disappears in your folds - sliding inside so perfectly, feeling how your walls stretch around his cock accommodating to the intrusion, welcoming even by coating with the warmth of your cunt. 

“I give you so much, let me show my love for you” There are too many words floating in his mind, all about you and only you, maybe your pussy too as his cock slips in so easily. Leon buries his nose in your hair. “Be a good girl, babe, you know what good girls get, right?”

Daddy’s love. Daddy’s dick too. A gasp escapes your lips, your breath hitches in your throat as every inch sinks deeper, batting your eyelashes at the stretch of your walls in a slow motion, giving you time to adjust. Your stomach pools more squirming heat, making you want to buck against him. And his words? They make your pussy clench hard across hard flesh, next ones make you weaker than any man has ever had. “You know dad loves you?” 

A moan escapes, your hips wriggle at the fullness in your hole. Clenching hard, a squirming heat tingles in your body, urging you to slip your hand to play with your clit. No way it is possible right now, Leon is pressing against you, his hips sit nicely against your ass while fingers dip on your belly - keeping hold of you. Dragging out his cock, before thrusting back with a choked grunt coming out of his throat.  

“I love you too..” You murmur with a breathless voice, it is hard to speak right now. All your focus is on how nice his cock fills your pussy, every vein of him etches in your velvety walls, the light curve of his dick that at right angle hits your spongy spot so well your eyes roll back and mind goes blank. His thrusts dip you harder in the mattress, your back arches into him.

“Fuck..” His voice is throaty, fanning against your ear. Hell, your eyes roll back arching into him trying to get his cock deeper inside you. Leon noses the base of your ear. “So good… you feel so good inside, my good girl” 

“Ugh… Harder…” It escapes out of you, drunk on this feeling. And Leon can feel his cock jolting inside you, almost cum without doing too much. His hips thrust deeper, to keep it there for a moment - to recollect himself.

“Harder? You need your dad to fuck you into the bed?” He grunts, dragging his cock before pushing it at a similar pace. You nod and how can he deny you tonight? He kisses the side of your head, rolling his hips harder, intensifying the rhythm - as his best girl wanted. 

Your pussy gushes more slick, it is getting embarrassingly wet - not sure if he realizes how drenching you are. Leaking for your dad, made right for his cock. Easy thrust, his tip knocks to the hilt, before pushing out and in with a squelching noise. Clenching harder every time his cock drags out, body begging for him back before it returns in a quick deep thrust. Your ears burn, sensitive and Leon seems to get too deep into this. But he is already deep into your pussy, hard to beat that. His tongue peeks out to brush across your hot cartilage, leaving wet trails with every lick and bite -  probably the sheets beneath have a see-through spot. Rutting in your hole, keeping you pinned in place with a hard grip moving to your hip, under him. The place you belong. And your body feels lighter, like a feather with an empty mind - how perfect his cock fits in you. 

He wishes he would be able to watch your face twist in pleasure, to see your eyes full of need to be kissed and groped. Fuck, his head fills the hypothetical images of your chest - filling his palms perfectly, squeezing and kneading your tits like some kind of stress toy after a long day of work. This makes his cock throbs harder inside you, his balls tighten with a flame burning up in his stomach - he is going to cum. Leon presses harder against your back and another moan escapes. “Baby, oh– you are so good for me, the best, my best, sweetest girl. I’m going to–” Wrong. “You are making me cum”

You are the reason his cock pulses inside you, getting harder and harder to keep himself in control. God, you feel how rough his thrust inside you right now - hitting your G-spot and the squirming heat starts to spread even more across your body at a quick pace. Your legs tremble, feeling the need to cry as it gets more overwhelming with each thrust. Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, you were the first to cum. Trembling beneath him, Leon kept kissing your hair, your body is weak and your sweet sobs fill the room. Crygasm, he’d call it, keeping to rut and trying to catch just the right moment for him. And your cunt makes it hard, tight, begging to cum already - no, he doesn’t want to cum inside you - not tonight at least. God, no! That’s wrong, this is just the moment of his weakness.  With a low grunt, Leon leans back to pull out, his cock throbs for the last time and sprouts long ropes of his cum on your ass, with heavy breathing watching it cling on your soft flesh - certainly, his pull out game got better with age. 

He feels like a fulfilled man at this point, your body is spent in pleasure and trying to recover. He is no different from that, burning face with heavy breathing, nor does he have energy to clean up. Falling down next to you, his arms snake around you to keep your body closer to him. It trembles, slowly fading to sleep in his embrace. 

…

Leon fucked up, fucked up so big he regrets there is no Matilda on the bedside table, the shame washes over him like a cold water has been thrown. There is no way to get out of this, you cling to his side like one of pillows. Cuddling almost, any notion would wake you up - to face you, his bad attempt of being a father. Showing affection. 

Vivid thoughts of the trigger under his finger, this time directed to him and not to zombie. Little pressure and… your finger bumps his nose. You are awake. 

“…Good morning” your voice is still sweet, like nothing happened that night. Like his cock wasn’t deep inside your pussy. Leon’s cock. Your dad’s. A silence falls, avoiding your gaze like the plague and it makes you frown. Uneasy. Your eyes drift for briefly, hard not to catch how pale he is - did he have a nightmare? 

Your voice rings in his ears again, Leon wants to cry. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost…”

“Do I?” His voice cracks, hoarse and lower in the mornings. But a bird may whisper, that crackiness is not linked to that. Your hand reaches to lay on his cheek, to force him to face your eyes. Leon’s eyelashes flutter for a moment, at your sleepy sight. Looking almost dreamily at him, like the best thing. The look one would give to a lover. Fuck. 

“Dad doesnt love me anymore?” you suggest with a disappointed expression crossing across your features and he needs to die at this point. To be put down like a stray dog.

“No, sweetheart..I–” Leon is quick to speak up, but slow to think how he should say. Get a grip. “Last night, I am sorry. I’m fucked up, big.” His hand reaches for yours, squeezing it softly before trying to swallow down the shame. “That’s not dad behavior, I’m so sorry” 

You stay silent, looking at him with wide eyes. Did he disappoint you? Failed you? “I am really really sorry, I don't know what to do to clean up this mess…” He looks so… Ashamed, guilty after being deep balls inside you, ravishing your body and fucking you dumbles. Unaware, your dad is so unaware of how this gets your pussy clench around nothing. Awaiting for you to speak up, to forgive him and act like he didn’t cum on your ass last night. More slick gushes in between your legs, begging to play with your clit. Or to feel his cock again. “...This won't happen, I promise. Do you need something? A dress, maybe new perfume? Or make up. Please.”

[melanchol1cs]

guess who

[melanchol1cs]

Older leon definitely falls for that AI stuff and i’m dying thinking about it. Like he sends you an obviously AI picture with a text following like, “😳😳” or “Have you seen this sweetheart? Be careful.” Like something like that and i’m DEADDD he’s such a millennial.

[melanchol1cs]

woah. best thing ive ever read. i would eat this if i could

WHERE YOU START THAT'S WHERE I BEGIN

Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, DUBIOUS CONSENT, reader is captive, SMUT, female reader, age gap, implied alcoholism, BIG stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, abuse, light physical violence(he hit her only once anyway), light hint of misogyny??, bruises, begging, masturbation(fantasy), vaginal sex, reader has masochistic tendencies i guess, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk.

summary: Blonde hair rarely stays the same, but this feels like a clear reminder there is little to nothing remained of the past rookie - innocence is gone with the clear, light wheat color. He wishes it was possible to start everything from scratch - maybe excessive drinking will black him out, memory loss or whatever just to be given a chance to create new him. Probably wouldn't work, everyone would still remember him. And you would still be here. 

notes: i didnt proofread if you see mistakes then you are wrong and ignore them, english isnt my first language. reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of interractions are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

“Top ten bruises on my body!”

Your fingers stretch the skin of your thighs, presenting as a group project. You tilt your head to the side, staring back at your reflection in the mirror. Not only a mirror, right now not for you at least. More like a camera, pretending to be one of celebs having an interview - you’ve always watched before getting locked here. You don’t have rights to watch TV unless with Leon, Tarantino shit or similar to his style. You find them boring at this point, at first they are nice with cool shots, but after two movies they become repetitive and even dull. With a clear fetishistic content, the same violence you can find in other films. A naive eye would think Boondock saints is Tarantino’s child, maybe Leon is a victim of that too. Don't tell this to him though, at drinking hours Leon would only roll his eyes at your possible statement or give you a slap - a man knows better than some young woman. Do you know many good female directors? Leon doesn't, unlikely there are anyway.

“First place! This is my favorite” A reddish patch similar to nebulas. The shape isn’t even linear, slowly forming, but even a blind would see it looks like a heart. If he hits it means he loves, right? Your finger traces around it, emphasizing the shape. “It looks like a heart, I love it”

“Heart shaped cause he loves me”

Your fingers slowly trace up to the straps of your dress. You pull them lower, they are loose cause you never bothered to adjust that - no one other than you and Leon will see. There are different sized bruises; some are already blooming on your skin like the prettiest flower, slowly descending to your stomach which is covered with the fabric of your silky dress. “He said my tits are the prettiest, prettier than porn stars’”

Your eyes drift across the reflection of your neck, covered with hickeys - a minute pause to think. Are hickeys bruises? Hickeys do look like bruises, but does the act behind them matter? Do they become less violent when his lips suck on your sensitive skin, breaking vessels to coax them to bloom on your neck?

“What the fuck are you doing?” A new reflection appears behind you, a hoarse voice after no consecutive dry days pulls you to the earth. Leon is back. Leon is back home! His face is confused and tired - not because of your stupid antics, no-no. You are the best part of his life, unlikely Leon will ever admit that, still the thought lives in your mind rent free - maybe coping with the lack of freedom. 

“Nothing!” Your hand creeped to his, pulling closer so it'd lay on your waist. You lean in to kiss his cheek, the stubble grazes your soft lips. Leon doesn't comment on this. “I’ve missed you”

He hums, making a bad choice to let his eyes drift across your skin. Not looking into your face though, his mom has always said they are mirrors of the soul. No way you will catch his guilt. Bruises, hickeys and they look pretty on you - something he’d define as a guilty pleasure to observe. Blooming slowly like it’s a spring season, warm, full of love. Love is the warmth, like the inside of your mouth. And every single proof of his love that covers your flesh is full of turbulent emotions - those violent delights have violent ends. Shamefully or not, this gets him harder every time.

“Would you kiss me better?” Of course you notice him staring at your body. Good fucking job, Leon Scott Kennedy.

It is hard to meet your gaze, he always tries to hold it more than a second. As his mom said once, keeping eye contact is the key to success - a lie, if it was true then he’d have already become the next president. Soberness is not for the weak and he needs a sip, to drink away his building shame. It snakes around his neck like the worst tie in the world before an important meeting, slowly tightening just to add another one - guilt. Whiskey calms down this, then your pussy removes it completely. 2 months have probably passed after bringing you here - against your will, now Leon is not so sure if the idea was a good one. Alcohol never encourages good deeds, but his life goal isn’t to become another Saint, not anymore. His addiction kicks out any hope, pushing him to drown himself in the guilt even more - full of whiskey, full of guilt, there is no space for anything else other than your presence. And kidnapping you only strengthened it furthermore. 

“You don't look wounded” he brushes off, out of habit untapping the flask to bring it closer to his lips. The rich taste of bitter liquor burns any remains of taste buds. Leon knows a lot about injuries, hell, not better than Rebecca - she is a doctor, while he is just an unfortunate government agent with a lot of experience. Maybe too much. Your eyes follow, lingering on the bead of whiskey there while pressing harder into his side. 

He misses your thrashing, biting his hand to silence you while he slips cock inside your pussy, kicking him just just you to end up with your body painted with bruises, forcing you to stare at him - now all you do is cling to him even worse than a leech after a day on the swamps. Staring at him willingly, an idiot struck in love, even dogs don't have that look, like the best thing in the whole world is in front of you. Before he had a reason to be angry, now you are just the proof of his failure in life. Your behavior changed steadily, so naturally it felt surreal to realize, in his mind a young girl with a bright future wouldn't settle on being kidnapped by a 40 years old alcoholic so quickly, crawling to him in the evening to suck his cock. 

You both stand in front of the mirror, but your gaze isn't focused on it - forgot about the glass reflecting your frame and dreamily blinking at him because the world stops on Leon. While all he can see is his washed look, exhaustion doesn't suit anyone, but it is the biggest gift his job has given him that he can't even brush it off. Blonde hair rarely stays the same, but this feels like a clear sign there is nothing remained from the past rookie cop - innocence is gone with the clear, light wheat color. He wishes it was possible to start everything from scratch - maybe excessive drinking will black him out, memory loss or whatever just to be given a chance to create new him. Probably wouldn't work, he is too old and everyone would still remember him. And you would still be here, he’d be forced to remember everything. 

While you had everything, all the time in the world before he got you stuck here. Even now, your appearance didn't get worse, at least in his eyes you are still perfect; the short gown clings to your thighs, emphasizing them as a quick reminder you are his. No way for you to escape because you cling to him even worse than any sugar baby would to a rich man. You like him, his grumpy expression wearing it like a coat, you like and pity him. So much it hurts from the inside - tearing your heart apart, not realizing how humiliating it is to cling to his leg almost every evening just for an ounce of affection. Maybe a little bit crazier, but four walls without alcohol or any other ways to escape are suffocating even for him - no wonder Leon became your favorite person to bother, an unusual way to find escapism. 

“You look like black cat!! I love cats!” and he’d shrug it off, while putting a black cat on his phone wallpaper. It is flattering after all.

You’d try to do everything together too, like a couple while you are not actually. But it warms his heart to find a warm body next to him, rambling into his ears while he drinks his brain out before his fingers would slip under your underwear to part your cunt . And you don't seem to mind his trouble with the boner that whiskey has given him. Together, no matter if one of you is miserable. 

Leon presses you against the mirror, his chest is pressed against your back. Your tits are squeezed against the cold surface, easily can be felt through the thin fabric of the dress, not only this but also his cock strained against his jeans - you can feel it too, he is so close to the point that if you had the urge to escape you wouldn't have any way to exit. His hand crawls up to grip your jaw, forcing this time not to face him directly - but your own and his reflections. It is much easier to handle your gaze like that. He is not drunk enough, nor is he sober enough to drown himself in shame and you are here to center him with your pussy. One believed the sun moved around the earth, for you Leon is the center of your Universe. Not so far away.

“Keep your eyes on me” He shakes your head slightly, your eyes widen before darting at his reflection and teeth sink into your lower lip. “You didn't lie, right?”

You nod, at least try with the lack of movement right now nor you know what he meant. Leon clicks with his tongue. 

“Missed me… have you thought about me?” his hand unbuttons his jeans to free his hard cock, it twitches briefly in the air, he grips it before giving a slow stroke - a soft grunt escapes from his lips, brushing against your ear and you get wetter like on command. Ears are sensitive, after all. “Did you touch yourself while I was out?”

You squeeze your thighs together, a silence is enough to confirm. Leon hit the nail on the head, - of course you did, but there is more for that too; his shirt is one of many comfort items that you snatched two weeks ago, his smell is still there or it is already engraved in your brain like some kind of drug. Burying your nose against the fabric while your fingers play with your slick folds, thinking about him. Even better, imagining him being in front of you, while you are dripping wet, probably leaking on the bed you both sleep on, he’d be watching your fingers part your cunt, exposing those sweet, slick folds to him before your fingers would slide across your clit and the mound of it swallowing your fingers coaxing wet with obscene shlicking sounds as their pace would quicken. 

What Leon doesn't know (or he does?), you like to press on one of your bruises if there are any - that pain feels too good, sweet and only intensifies your crushing orgasm. It was a weird discovery, accidental and now there are two things that can get you off - Leon, of course, and pain from bruises. You have been imagining this over and over, like good food never gets old. Your fantasies come to nothing as his hand shakes your head roughly. Earth is calling, darling.

“Tsk, stop looking so dumb” His voice is loud in your ears, reflections of your figures doesn't try to veil anything - maybe at the edge of high arousal it looks even better in his eyes - gown rose, its folds cling to your hips and hugs your curves in a soft embrace while not hiding different little to medium sized bruises. And your face? Pretty, flushed with teeth sunk into the plush skin of your lip with the eyes full of need and affection - your entire body begs him to fuck you. Again, even dogs don't have this look.

This time your sweet inseparable fingers are not the ones to part your cunt, but his cock. It slides against your folds coaxing out wet noises after every drag - his cock head bumps against your clit, making your flinch and his grip on your jaw gets tighter; don't forget you need to focus on his reflection. Your cunt gushes at every little bump across your aching nub, sick coats his flesh, lubing his length in it before he pushes his cock into you with a grunt - Leon is not really a patient man. You arch into him, like a piece of puzzle made for him - perfectly settled in the curve of your bodies, leaving no free spaces all skin-to-skin. 

Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch at every unevenness of its hard flesh with pleasant pain and letting it slide until his cock got buried deep inside you. His presence, cologne and cock overwhelms you per se - there is no space, if you try to turn, to face Leon and confront him directly, not to stare at his reflection like he isn't here, all your body would have felt would be him. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help, but tightly clench around him. His cock drags out, your walls cling to the prominent vein of his cock, the one that pulses hard before cumming inside you almost every night. Pulling out until only a tip remains inside, the base of his cock is glistening with your slick, easily slamming it back - relishing how tight and warm your pussy is, the best and most calming feeling for Leon. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies, more wet and flesh-hitting sounds slip out of you. His hand forces your head to roll back while his free hand rests on your stomach, like the snake keeping hold and not letting any other movement - try and get bit. 

“Feel better than those fingers?” Leon grunts, every man's weakness is their ego - it is hungry for satisfaction and needier than you after denying your orgasm on one of nights. 

“Yes - yes! Much better!” 

“Of course, dummy,” Leon shakes your head again and your eyes are unfocused for a moment - blurred, looking at the tip of your nose as you try to recompose. His hips slam harder against yours, burying his cock deep to the hilt and another squeal.  Amusing. “What can you know about pleasing a woman?”

Leon doesn't know much either. Women lie, even in bed - they fake their orgasms, but he refuses to believe you are the only girl that he was able to make cum. 

His hand brushes slightly across one of the bruises. Fuck, a hint of sweet pain and your body flinches. Your cunt gushes more, feeling the stickiness of your slick cling to your thighs now too, his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. Your walls clench harder around him with a light moan escaping out of you, the tightness of them almost makes him cum. Your expression tells him everything, hell, even body language is enough to confirm that you get off of that - not sure why, maybe younger girl thing or you just got crazier than before with him. He doesn't even know what’s better, but not like it matters right now cause your little kink is beneficial for Leon. 

Will you cum if he presses intentionally? God, his cock throbs inside you even harder at the thought. Those marks were made by him, in big percentage of situations he was drunk to the point he didn’t even remember them, or maybe too ashamed to confront he messed up, other ones were hickeys - they don't count, those are evidence of him fucking you dumbless. He is not shy to play with you. Now particularly. 

“What? Are you getting off of this?” You can see him in the mirror and hear him. Omnipresent. his voice caresses your ear with his lips, brushing across the sensitive cartilage and your insides flutter. You can bet those veins and other imperfections are imprinted in your pussy after this. “Freak.”

“No, hell! Ugh– Waitt!” You can explain! Or can you? Your words get thrown out of your brain after another thrust, knocking so sweetly your spongy spot. His cock doesn’t stop pounding, grinding its tip inside you every time he buries it deep to the hilt - you can feel it almost into your stomach at this point. That’s for the better anyway, your open mouth would only end up confirming his words. Freak, dumb freak. Mindless cunt. 

His finger presses on the red spot on your side, a light pressure, just a try - an investigation, just to see if it wasn’t an illusion and quickly a moan follows after, even better your pussy flutters, unclenching just to grip harder than you’ve ever been while cumming on his cock. Wow. “Sure”

And you didn’t cum yet. Will you if he presses harder? Your body is in front of him, the mirror doesn’t hide all the blooming colors on your skin. Hickeys don't count, bruises from his biting neither - those born with violence are the ones. To apply pressure on a violet one? They are the most mature. 

His balls slap your skin after every thrust, keeping the rhythm to his taste - rough, quick with the result of leaving you sore and full. And you are sucking in his cock so good, a greedy thing not wanting to feel emptiness again - after all he is the only one that can fill you, fingers aren’t enough without him. His eyes focus on his hand, caressing your curves before finally getting to the sweet bruise on your thigh - heart shaped one, the one you were so excited about because the proof of his affection is in the most popular shape. Marked down on you. He loves you. Pareidolia twisted by Stockholm syndrome, still he likes you cause you too. His finger traces the shape, watching you flinch at the contact with the sensitive patch. It is hard for you to keep attention on that, while his cock drags so sweetly inside you - fits so nice, easing your body with pleasure. Something is missing still, not for too long he presses his finger on your bruise. Now nothing is missing.

Your face twists in pleasure, your teeth sink into the soft plush of your lower lip to the point he can notice light beads of blood forming - clearly would be sore and sensitive to kiss later. Your eyebrows furrow, creating a light cease in between them, the one he usually pokes to ease. If not for Leon, he believes you’d be already wrinkled. This sight is almost better than alcohol, drinking into it as your cunt clenched tight around him - pulsing so sweetly as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you. His sperm fills you, grinding his hips against you as your mind is all focused on the warmth of his cum - settling inside you, while his slowly softening cock tries to prevent the leak - doesn't work well, it drips slowly, sticking to your thighs and now not so warm. 

“You love me, right?” Leon’s voice comes out breathy, brushing against your ear shell. It is a plea to hear your confession, that someone can love him even in the most wrong way. You like him, love him. There are no other words that can explain - in the hell you’d crawl to him, you would not turn to look upon if that meant you would not see him anymore and if he ever dies you would mourn him to your death - you are tearing apart every time you see him, touch him and kiss him. His calloused fingers creep down to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly just to prolong your orgasm - to see more those mindless eyes directed to him. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock. 

“I looove love love you!” Your voice is weak, hoarse from moans and sounds like a mewl. To prove you mean it, to shove out of your chest everything he makes you feel so he’d validate your needs. Leon isn’t deaf or stupid, the clear intention behind them is clear, you are genuine and transparent - more transparent than see through lingeries, he can see your thoughts in that dumb head of yours. And this fed into his ego better than anything. 

Your body drops down as his grip lets go of you. Like a corpse, god, no – wrong thought, Leon. His fingers are wet, sticky with your slick. Everything clings to him, he isn't sure if he sobered up or it is just sweat. Untapping the flask to take a sip. Bitter liquid burns in the back of his throat, slowly reaching his stomach just to heat him up. And whiskey numbs everything, it cradles him in the almost mother-like embrace. Then he’d need you to coddle in your arms like a child, to feel your chest against his face.  “I need to shower”

“... Can I join?” Your head flicks to him, trying to stand up but for his luck you are still recovering from your orgasm. Weak in knees, still full of urge with the need to leech at his side. 

“No” And you beg and cling, reaching to grab his shirt just to loom in front of him, reminding what he has done - to confront his deeds, shame is sticky like oil, damp and cold - he knows this too well, it washes over him with soberness. His ruffled expression covers with sweat, wide pupils cause everything feels like a joke. Crude one. 

“Please, Leon! I’d be good” Your thighs clench around nothing, as his cum oozes out to cling to the inner side of your plush skin. “Don’t leave me here, please, I love yo—“

Loud slap. His hand connects with your cheek. Actually, it is a first - to hit a woman in the face is too much and he can’t fall so low. Your expression dries his sweaty face, confused and surprised. Thank god your grip lessens, he slaps it away too. His wide eyes stare at you - he can’t believe what he has done, well, he can but to face it in a half-clear mind is not his best way. Red mark on your cheek that is going to bloom into something more violet, Leon has never given you flowers, but bruises look like ones enough. 

His hand burns from the slap, still can’t let it fall to his side like nothing happened. And you like this, thriving into this more than he has ever expected you. Your eyes glimpse with more affection, like a stubborn dog not knowing any better. 

What do you even know?

You are the shame that washes down on his frame, you are the guilt tie on his neck. Your entire existence warms him, but at the same time Leon needs to wash you off of him. 

[melanchol1cs]

szia! you may find me on: instagram, pinterest, spotify, last.fm ~

[melanchol1cs]

wanna eat that ellie williams cookie soooo bad rn 😪

[melanchol1cs]

♡♡♡ send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ♡♡♡

omg ily mads,, right back at you!! sending kisses xx >.<

[melanchol1cs]

OMG GREY GREY GREY DID YOU SEE THAT THE NEIGHBORHOOD MIGHT HAVE A COMEBACK???

OMG WHAAAATTT??!?!? WHERE DID YOU ACQUIRE THIS INFORMATION?

[melanchol1cs]

halfway there…. 😵‍💫