#I fucked around and found out

[zombiepatch]

i think one of the phasmophobia steam achievements should be called "fuck around and find out" for pulling the hanged man tarot card for the first time

[macabrecake]

Fatal Attachments

↳ Should he kill you or keep you?

➛ Pairing: RE6! Leon S. Kennedy x Female! Reader

➛ Rating: Mature

➛ Warnings: Smut, Blood, Knives, Brief mentions of canon character deaths, Just dark themes basically

➛ WC: 33k yes it's a lot smh

➛ Note: Everyone's been making Halloween themed Resident Evil stories lately so I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon too! Even though I may have took the literal sense and formed a Halloween AU and, not gonna lie, not feeling extremely proud of it. It's long yeah but the idea might be a bit over used. I don't know, it is what it is. Hope you like it and Happy Spooky Month! 🎃

Raccoon City was silent and still, safe for the soft whisper of the crisp, cool wind carrying the leaves that allow gravity to claim them in the finality of their life cycle. Coloring the roads and sidewalks in an array of different browns, reds, and oranges. Adding onto the aesthetically pleasing decorations that hung throughout the neighborhood, celebrating the festivities of the spooky season. However, the night that now blanketed the city was calm. No children running up and down the cement paths with their candy buckets, laughing and chattering with excited delight to receive their treats or to show off whatever muse they chose to dress up as. All was quiet.

For the worst reasons.

Like the ripple in a pond when a stone is tossed, the still tranquility is suddenly disturbed by the echoing clap of shoes against pavement. Harshly kicking the leaves up in a frenzy as they rush by, searching for anything that will bring them safety. The owner of the frantic footsteps is breathing heavily with clear exhaustion, while struggling in vain to lock down another sob, yet she knows she can't stop. Even if her lungs burn and bile rises in the back of her throat, even if her legs ache with mountains of fatigue, even if it feels like her heart is about to explode if a break is not given. She can't stop. You cannot stop.

That's exactly what he's counting on.

You don't dare to take a chance and look back, you know the consequences of that action would be very grim. Not like you need to anyway, you know he's still there, just waiting for you to slip up. You swear you still see him out of the corners of your eyes as you scan your surroundings in a feeble attempt to make sure he won't catch you off guard, as that will be your death sentence. His obscured face floats within the darkness like a phantom. An evil spirit. The Devil.

Leon.

It's like he's taunting you, yet he doesn't need to utter a single word. But perhaps the feeling is mutual. History repeats itself- he was so close but you still managed to slip away again after all these years. Which feels like an insult to him, personally. A disgrace on him for you to try and beat him at his own game again. It pisses him off to no end but excites him all at once, for Leon loves a challenge.

You're the only victim who's not just gotten away, back then and now, but has also put up this much of a fight tonight. That's what calls to him, what draws him to you like a great white shark when blood is spilled in open waters. What drives him to continue playing this gruesome game he'll never grow tired of.

You're not getting away this time, he's waited for this moment for too long. Dreamed of it on too many occasions when he was locked away from the world within the confines of that godforsaken hospital. Simply biding his time, letting them get away with adorning his being with their petty shackles they fully believe will save them from his gruesome wrath in the end. Allowing them to poke and prod at him. See what aligns with their research they're so confident in that they'll scream whatever nonsense they want about the 'ailments' he holds. Because of fear.

Because they don't know what he is.

If Leon ever decided to speak, highly unlikely of course, he could almost admit that there's some form of irony in there somewhere. They label him as so many different types of crazy, complete mental disturbance. And yet would still waste their own time and money trying to figure him out. Not even fully understanding what they would gain either, besides some brief recognition perhaps. The stupidity is mind boggling, but he never cared, it was always so funny to watch them try anyway.

Chained down to his chair in his padded cell, hearing but not listening to the white noise of specialists, drawing on and on. Studying him as if he was nothing more than a tiger trapped in a zoo. When behind his blank expression, hidden deep within those cold blue eyes. He was laughing at every single one of them.

Because he knew he'd be free again. Free to finally pick up where he left off. Answer the curious questions he's often wondered. Like, what would your flesh look like up close once he's carved into it? He knows it's soft, easy to give. Easy to scar. Oh how he longs to scar you deeply. Make you his. Obsessed with the idea of knowing what your blood feels like when it finally gets to stain his hands, what it looks like when mixed with your tears. He would bet it's beautiful, something close to poetic even. You were always beautiful, maybe that's where his attachment lies.

You're this perfectly blank canvas for him, the horridly sadistic artist. He wants to break you. Like a pretty porcelain doll just for him. All for him. That thought alone almost pulls the ghost of a smirk onto his hidden lips as he keeps his steady pace not far behind you. Waiting. Until you finally give up, or your body makes you stop. He's not picky.

—

You finally collapse, letting out a shrill cry from where you lay, pitifully shaking like a little bunny, desperate to get away from the starving wolf. You're praying your adrenaline will give you another boost, one last great effort. Your breath comes out shaky and full of fear. Hearing the sound of Leon's boots slowly step off the sidewalk and onto the asphalt. Oh God, he's right there. You have to move now.

MOVE!

Forcing your lungs to take in a large gulp of air, you immediately spring back up and dart for the nearest house. You're certain you hear a small huff escape him, coming out muffled by his mask. Whether out of amusement or annoyance, you don't care. You just want to get away as you leap onto the porch, quickly throw the front door open, then lock yourself inside. Hoping he'll leave you alone now. Though that's only wishful thinking, you know he doesn't work like that.

You sink to the floor where you quietly sob, begging for the world to swallow you up so he can't get you. He got Helena, Ada, Jake and Piers didn't seem like they were going to make it either. You don't have a damn clue where Chris, Claire or Sherry could be. Is anyone looking for you? And if they are, will they just eventually find your corpse?

You don't want to think about it. Instead you force yourself back to your feet to lock down the rest of the house with one priority- keep Leon Kennedy out. Hoping to hold your ground until help comes. If it ever does. You bolt to the living room first, checking all the windows to make sure they're secure, then run to the kitchen next to look for any possible entries you could cut him off from. Along with the back door, that definitely gets blocked.

Once those are checked and dubbed safe, you move back to the front of the house with the intention of heading upstairs to barricade everything up there. Only to freeze dead in your tracks. Unable to make a sound as your heart leaps into your throat just as your stomach drops like a weighted block of ice. The front door you just locked…

Is standing wide open.

The lock clearly busted as if it was nothing more than tinfoil to him. Yet you never heard a sound. A weak cry falls from your lips as you plant your shaking body to a wall while your eyes frantically search around you. He's not in the living room, or the kitchen from what you could see. He's probably watching you right now, when you can't see him at all. That thought alone throws your mind into overdrive.

The door is still open, maybe he couldn't find anything useful to block it before you came back around. You pray for that to be the case, because you know Leon is crafty. Always thinking three steps ahead. But you're so tired, you want to go home, let this nightmare be over with. And with freedom practically staring you in the face, you can't help but take it. So you quickly push yourself away from the wall and race out the front door. To help, safety, some actual hope that the end of this horrific tunnel is finally within sight.

The universe works in such unimaginable ways though, and perhaps someone up there is just really testing you, or doesn't like you at all.

When that hope is stolen from you in the form of Leon's hand suddenly clamping down onto your arm before you're even fully out the door then swiftly tosses you back into the house.

"NO!" A scream rips from your throat as your back meets the hardwood floor. One of anguish and betrayal, then terror when Leon steps inside after you. The holes of his mask bore into you, like staring into the depths of an abyss. Staring straight into Hell. His hand reaches up to shut the door first, then wedges a small decorative table underneath the mangled knob and lock. Forcing your mind into the horrific realization that you did not make a fortress to keep him out.

It's your own prison with him.

Your sobs are pained and terrified as you force your aching body back up to run upstairs, unfortunately you're not quick enough. The burn of sharp steel piercing your outer thigh and slicing along your leg, almost to your knee, has you yelping as you drop again before you could get up the first mahogany step. Your death is looming over you, yet you still don't want to give in.

Picking yourself up enough to run the first few then quickly crawl up the rest to reach the second story. There you try to get back up to your feet, however the large red stain that sticks to your leg and the pain that shoots through it, reminds you of just how difficult that's going to be. Forcing you to resort to hobbling towards a hiding spot instead. Once in the 'safety' of a bedroom closet, you hastily rip off your shirt to wrap it around your thigh to put pressure on the wound. Stop the bleeding or slow it down significantly at most.

After it's tightly wrapped, but still with room for circulation, you focus on trying to calm your breathing and heart rate. Easier said than done, especially when Leon's boots echo throughout the house as he makes his way up the stairs.

Step.

Step.

Step.

He's close by. And after watching your blood drip from his knife, admiring how beautifully crimson it looked in the light, Leon's patience is wearing thin. His prize is so close. Just within his grasp, he wants it now. And he's hellbent to get it. One way or another.

You jolt at the sound of hinges busting off their frame as Leon forces his way into a room down the hall to search it. A quaint little guest bedroom. There's some promise here, maybe you're under the bed, or behind the window's curtains, perhaps the closet even. The man moves fast in swift, long strides to cross the room and pull the curtains away first. Nothing. Given his mask covering his features, as well as his strong rigid stature overall, one would think he's unbothered. However by the way his large hand bears a death grip on the hilt of his blade would suggest quite the opposite.

Leon then turns around to raise his foot and kicks the bed away. You're not there either. So he storms over to the closet and nearly rips the doors off the frame before shoving clothes away. Corner to corner, full of shirts and coats but still no you. A sharp exhale leaves the man as he stomps out to raid the next room then. The bathroom is a rather decent size but still not big enough for you to properly hide in. Not even in the bathtub, he would spot you immediately. He's quick to leave and search the final room.

Which instantly sends your hands flying to your mouth to stifle your uprising panic when the master bedroom door creaks open, oddly calm compared to the first couple of times. Then those God awful slow, calculated steps.

He's in here with you.

Whatever possesses him, whatever he is. Is powerful and sinister enough to send the iciest chills down your spine while you fight to keep your breathing steady and silent. Yet you're still plagued with one scary thought- wondering if he could hear your heartbeat. How it pounds in your ears like thunder, it wouldn't surprise you if he does catch on to the sound. But you don't dare move, only clamping your eyes shut and curling into yourself more as metal scrapes against wood when the bed is shoved away for the monster to peer underneath. Then the curtains, before snapping his head over to look into the little bathroom area on his right. Negative on both. That is…

Until Leon slowly turns his head to stare over his shoulder. At the last spot he hasn't checked yet. Ah, a rookie mistake on his part for not looking there first. Yet also such a classic choice in this twisted game of hide and seek. It was fun listening to you scream again, watching you run once more, fighting for your life that was already within the palm of his hands from the beginning. It's over now. He finally gets his reward.

Not without giving you one last shot though.

That one silent, evil thought resting in his dark consciousness leaves you clueless and beyond afraid when his body casts his ominous shadow over the closet doors as he stalks by. Then silence.

Surely that can't be it. Surely he knows you're in here, is he toying with you? Did he finally get bored? You can't tell anymore. It feels as if you're simply delaying the inevitable at this point. Maybe your life was just meant to end this way. Maybe you just need to make peace with that. Hope it's swift. Even though you don't want that as your fate, then again who really does when met with a situation like this? You're outmatched, with no options. Other than to just brace for it.

Another sob wracks your frame, the dam already broken to let the tears fall. Flowing down your cheeks as you slowly stand up on shaky legs like a newborn fawn and push the closet door open. Of course he's not there, and the door is open. Giving you a clear view back into the brightly lit hallway. You know better.

So, as you mentally write out your final goodbyes to your loved ones, you move towards the door to grab the knob and slam it shut. Revealing the man right behind it. Who doesn't waste a second as he lunges forward to pin you to the wall by your neck. A small grunt escapes before your eyes open to meet a strong chest cladded in dark navy blue. Your gaze then slowly travels upward past broad shoulders until you find yourself peering at that same haunting white facade that stares right back at you.

Honestly, in Leon's mind he feels rather disappointed. He was expecting you to try and make another escape, continue the chase. However, from the looks of it, it seems you're done. Tragic. You're exhausted, body still trembling, quietly sniffling amongst the little silver streams that blanket your face. It's so pathetic. On the other hand, he's pleasantly surprised by your little streak of courage when you stepped to him like that, even though he knew you couldn't do anything to him. Not to mention, the view he's been granted.

Seeing your shirt wrapped around your leg, leaving you in your lace bra that conforms and moves with each quiet, shuddering breath you take- that he allows you to have, for now. It stirs something he can't place at the moment. But it's something that burns hotter when he feels your heart practically beating in his hand as his thumb presses harder into your pretty skin, right onto your pulse point. Amused with how it flutters like a trapped bird.

Even more amusing to see your dainty hands quickly reach up in an attempt to pry him away. At first, Leon's almost tempted to just snap your neck right here, right now. It would be so easy. But that wouldn't be fun for him, not whenever he's finally got you after all this time. He wants to savor this moment. You still haven't changed a bit it seems, matured physically perhaps, but still so weak, soft, and delicate. Like a flower.

Whose petals he's going to rip off until there's nothing left. You're staring rather defiantly at his towering form however. Interesting. There's still a fire in you, even if it's merely a spark. A spark he wasn't expecting would light so suddenly when one of your hands shot away from where he was holding your neck and yanked his mask clean off. You're definitely gonna pay for that...

Now, from where you're standing, you could feel his eyes scanning every inch of you. Meaning it's only fair that if you're gonna be bare then so will he. But you're not sure what you were expecting to see under there. Nor stare at so intently. You never forgot about him, what he used to look like all those years ago. Smaller, slim fit, rather baby faced to where you would've called him 'cute' had he not been so dangerous. A stark contrast to what's before you now. It's rather sick to admit that time was actually very kind to him.

Leon's hair is much longer compared to when he was in his 20s, with the addition of some light stubble that frames his sharp jawline quite nicely. Of course still obviously cut and maintained while he was at the sanitarium. Makes you wonder how the caretakers there were able to do that to him without the risk of their necks being snapped. Unless they always kept him drugged. Should you feel bad? You're not too certain, all you know is that you're strangely tempted to move some of the shiny golden blonde strands that fall over his eyes just slightly. Long, but not enough to obscure those scars you left on him that last Halloween night.

One across his cheek, under his right eye, then another on his left- a long jagged cut going from the bottom of his eyebrow faintly skimming his eyelid and stopping just above his cheekbone. Would've completely blinded him in that eye if he didn't swerve his head away. Both are still intact and staring you down with vicious ferocity. And some other emotions you can't quite put your finger on. Perhaps something else just as sinister if not rage. It's hard to say as his plump, pale rose colored lips remain in a stoic, firm line. Never speaking whatever his gaze is silently wailing. A gaze that's so beautifully blue. Like an ocean, bright and full of color on the surface until you swim down deeper to the depths where nothing but darkness awaits.

It's settling in now, for you and him. What time has done to you both. How much it's changed you. Matured you over the years. Yet something has still chained one to the other.

The notion of predator and prey.

So what happens now? You don't know, you're still wondering why any higher being would make such a handsome, almost angelic, face. Only to bestow it upon the most hellish soul. And why does it sadden you so greatly?

Perhaps you're letting your own emotions speak too loudly now, watching as Leon's head slowly tilts to the side almost confused. You don't look so afraid anymore. That's rather small minded considering he still has the power to cut off your airflow until you stop struggling. Only reason he hasn't yet is because of how your gaze peers at him. And mainly flicker between his eyes and lips. He's not dumb or naive, acutely aware of what that normally leads to. The man has just never really associated those kinds of needs with his carnage seeking ones.

Never let it be said he wasn't ever curious though.

That alone is what drives him forward to smash his lips against yours, stifling your gasp. It's clumsy at first, more teeth than lip, but Leon is quick to catch the rhythm. Having it figured out to the point he forces your head back for him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which pulls a soft whimper from you. You taste so sweet, wherever his tongue goes to claim it's like taking the smallest bite out of a pastry. Or chocolate.

It's so good he doesn't stop himself from biting your lip, making you jolt with a small cry before he starts working his way down your neck once he's removed his hand. It's in his nature to leave marks. And with how every inch of you is so bare, that acts like an open invitation to him, as he hoists you up completely from the floor and traps you between him and the wall. Leaving one bloody bite mark after another. Another small gasp of pain escapes as fear swims in your eyes when Leon presses you closer to him.

'What are you doing?'

'This man has been trying to kill you!'

'He's already killed your friends!'

'And you're making out with him?'

Your head yells, begging for some common sense to enlighten you, as Leon lays another very harsh bite to your skin- this one in the crook of your neck. You flinch and start trying to push him away, until he makes you stop squirming by burying his knife into the wall. Right next to your head. Then that icy stare finds yours again, his brow irked only a fraction. Written clear as day that if he were to speak right now it'd be something along the lines of, 'This is what's keeping you alive. You might as well play along.'

When put like that, and also displayed so eloquently, it would seem that's why there's no common sense here. So you go with it. Letting your hands move down to unclasp and peel your bra away then unbutton your jeans. Once they're out of the way, you glance back up at the blonde man. And would've laughed some at how his eyes shift between your breasts, his expression is unreadable however, either he's looking for the most vital spot to stab you in or he's actually admiring. It's difficult to tell but you would hope for the latter.

Now, suppose someone up there doesn't completely hate you. No tip of a knife gets embedded in your chest, but the bite that's laid to one of your nipples isn't so great either. Of course Leon is still going to be mean. "Ow!" You gasp while lightly pushing on his shoulders, "Easy, you don't have to bite that hard!" Fierce cobalt eyes train on you again, he knows he doesn't have to, but he wants to. What are you gonna do about it? Better change your approach.

"Please?" Begging. That's better, he can work with that. Fine, he'll reward you just this once. A reward that he supposes ended up working in his favor as well. Once he pays attention to the other breast, giving a softer bite and swirls his tongue around your perky bud, your hands suddenly end up in his hair as your head falls back with the softest moan he's ever heard.

Leon has always despised when the caretakers would get too close to his hair or neck, or anywhere around his face for that matter. Too close when they cut his hair, too close when they shove a light in his eye for check ups, too goddamn close when they force another round of medicine down his throat to keep him docile. Keep his mind floating so he can't fight back.

Now you're doing it too. He should break your wrists for that, he could. They're so small. Gentle in the way they card through his locks and lightly tug at his roots, just as your hips grind against his clothed bulge.

He likes it.

So much it spurs the blonde's blood seeking frenzy even more. The little trickles of red from where his teeth punctured your skin just isn't enough for him. That's when Leon's knife gets pulled out of the wall. Making you gasp from the sudden stinging sensation going down your left arm, then another just below your collarbone, and another into your neck. Cuts that aren't deep enough to be fatal but certainly enough to make you bleed. You quickly glance at Leon, finding him abandoning your other breast to stare at your blood as it drips, before bringing his hand up to smear it, watching with hidden delight as it stains your skin. He knew it'd look pretty.

And normally that would be enough to satisfy him, but you've done something. Awoken some new carnal hunger within him that he must feed. One that he's determined to satiate by cutting the rest of your clothes off, and never letting you touch the floor once thanks to his strength, until they're in pieces around his feet. Leaving you completely bare before him. Your petite hands suddenly reach out slowly towards the buttons on his suit, but stop as your eyes trail back up to meet his. "May I?" You ask, voice soft and almost timid. You're asking for his permission.

This is new territory to Leon, he shouldn't be letting you get this close. You should be dead, he should be stabbing you in the heart right now. Breaking your bones. Something. Why are you looking at him like this? Why does it make him feel warm? The thought of your demise at his hands won't even stay in his head anymore as he leans closer until your hands splay against his chest. A silent yes.

A little smile tugs at your lips as you undo the buttons and pull down the zipper until his erection is finally freed from its confinement. That's when your smile turns timid. It's plain to see he's certainly well endowed by just the tip alone, which is beat red and leaking precum like no tomorrow, there's girth to it as well. With a visible vein that runs long. From the head all the way down. How is that going to fit?

While in the midst of trying to figure out this dilemma, you almost miss the tiny huff that escapes Leon. The way it came out, almost sounded like a quiet laugh. Looking back up at him yields even more of a surprise, it's quick to disappear but you could swear you saw his lips were curved. In a very very faint smile. Of course he finds amusement in your worry. But the fact he's maybe capable of other emotions besides rage and bloodlust is surprising, all things considered.

You let curiosity get the better of you then, seeing how he'll react with this- by wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and start moving, making sure to gather the cum on the tip to lube him up easier. Leon's entire body uncharacteristically shudders as his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, drawing out a low hum. The first noise you've ever heard emit from this man, this killer, why did it have to sound so beautiful? It was low, deep, and gravelly as it vibrated against your chest. But still holding a smoothness to it, like taking a swig of bourbon.

The way it shot straight to your core to light it up like liquid fire was just as mind boggling. But it's a good sign to keep going. Listening to his sharp exhale before his teeth quickly clamp down on your neck to stay quiet. Leaving the only sounds to be his hot breath panting against your skin, and the soft squelch as his hips rut into your hand. This shouldn't make you as wet as it does but it's far better than what else he could do to you instead. However, your hand was starting to cramp. To the point you have no choice but to release him. Bad move.

Leon's head is quick to move away from your neck to glare down at you, eyes lit up with fury as he squeezes your supple hips tight to the point you know it'll leave bruises. And that's only a warning. Thankfully, before he could take his knife from the wall and pin you with it, you manage to calm him down. "Here." You speak quietly then maneuver yourself to where he lines up with your entrance. Hoping he understands what you're trying to do, and he does but it was probably better if you did it. The lack of patience in Leon makes him hold onto your hips incredibly tight and push himself all the way inside you in one go.

"W-Wait! Not- AH!" Holy FUCK he's huge. It hurts how quickly he stretches you around him, but there's also an underlying sensation of bliss. Especially when he starts moving, because Leon can't help himself. You feel so tight, so fucking tight around him, and hot. His hips act on a rhythm all their own. He would've gotten lost in it for a moment, until he feels one of your hands move down between him and you. Curious at your action, his sharp eyes glance downward to watch as your fingers rub and caress your little bundle of nerves. And after looking back up at you, Leon sees why. There's new tears running down your cheeks as your face morphs into one of discomfort.

He shouldn't care, but… fine. He could do better than what your dainty little fingers are trying to accomplish anyway. Leon immediately smacks your hand away to replace it with his. His fingers are big, calloused, and so warm against your sensitive rosy pearl. It instantly melts the discomfort away like rain on a hot forge. Making your head fall back and your whole body shudder as you arch off the wall to press against him with a loud moan. "Leon!~"

Damn you. You shouldn't sound like that. Shouldn't be saying his name that way. Damn him too for liking it so much. For letting it spur him on to go faster and bury his cock in you deeper. For wanting to hear you say it again. This is wrong, you both have fallen too deep. His pleasure was always found in terror. Chaos. In watching someone choke on their last shred of life. In painting this whole city red with it's own blood until it drowns. He's a killer. Truly a Godforsaken monster. What have you done to him? For once, he's not certain what to do.

Leon Kennedy.

The Shadow of Raccoon City.

Was truly at a loss. Should he kill you or keep you? He doesn't know, nor can he think on it more when you're pulled so close to him. Feeling your arms and legs wrap around him tight. Listening to the way your moans, soft whimpers, his name fall from your lips into his ear like a song. Subtly letting his eyes cast down to see the way your shared arousals mix and coat your inner thighs. It makes such a pretty mess every time he sinks back into your soft, fluttering walls. You wrap around him too well, it's like he belongs there. It's a problem.

A problem he doesn't know how to solve except by throwing your legs over his shoulders and fuck you harder against the wall. Letting his hot, heavy pants mingle with yours and the lewd sound of wet skin loudly slapping against each other. Drool begins to run down the corner of your mouth, just as your eyes roll in the back of your head when stars cloud your vision. "Ah!~ Leon, wait I- hm! Slow d-own! I'm g-onna cum!" You whimper, trying with all your might to form a coherent sentence.

Luckily he heard you, given how his eyes open to look at you, and lets out a deep growl. The sound takes hold and sends your body shivering beneath him. But was it out of fear? Or excitement? You can't tell. No, is his clear answer though, he's not slowing down. In fact he leans in closer, his lips just barely gracing yours to kiss, and keeps his stare locked on you while his hips move faster.

Your eyebrows crease upward and your mouth falls open with a silent scream of euphoria as you stare back at him, unable to look away. And he loves it. If that word can work there. Seeing how needy you are, so desperate, all because of him. This is his doing. Leon has brought the whole city to its knees tonight, and now has you begging for him. He couldn't be happier, more content, more obsessed than now. You're close, he can feel it. Your pussy hugs him tighter, gushes more. That coil in you is winding up, so close to breaking. Leon wants to see it, see what you look when you fall apart.

It's not long before his silent wish is granted, your grip on his arms clamp down for some kind of leverage. Cries of pure ecstasy fill the room for him when your cloud nine is reached, making you cum hard around his cock. The man never knew how a sight that isn't blood and gore could still be so beautiful. Basking in the view of your pleasure as you squirt and drench him until the lower area of his coveralls are soaked. What a mess you've made. He likes it, maybe a little too much, but it's more than enough to pull him into his own release.

Leon's breath suddenly hitches in his throat, the sensation is unlike anything he's ever felt before. Like his nerve endings lit up with electricity and shot through his whole body. Too good for him to keep a cognitive thought other than to just shove himself as deep into your dripping cunt as he can go and squish you against him more with a low groan. You lightly flinch at his strength when he squeezes you so hard. But you don't really mind, not while hearing that groan in your ear.

Aka another pretty damn sexy sound you wouldn't mind more of. Much like the thick warmth that settles in your lower belly as Leon's hips thrust into you a little more, milking himself until you're fully stuffed with every last drop of his hot seed. There's so much of it that some even leaks out of your spent hole once he finally slows to a stop. Tugging a soft, blissful hum from your lips as you bury your own face in his shoulder, exhausted and content.

But, as the relaxation fades away with the high, the ugly face of reality starts to creep back in. He's still a murderer. The whole city is after him, others are probably trying to find you before he does. You don't like the heaviness that gives you, how conflicted it makes you feel. "I'm gonna die now, aren't I?" You softly ask before your brain could stop you. It's a valid question you have to ask. But you're still shot with a streak of fear when Leon moves his head away for his intimidating gaze to find you again. Making you curl up slightly, shrinking before him.

Fierce blue eyes shift to stare at the knife still stabbed into the wall just inches away from his hand. Leon could pierce your heart right now if he wanted, cut you open like Thanksgiving turkey. That's what his original goal was anyway, what he strived to achieve for so many years. So it angers him now when every time a lethal thought enters his mind of what he should do with you, the rest of his body fights to turn it away. There's a battle being waged within the man.

And you can see it, how the ocean in his eyes abruptly shifts and uproars into a great powerful storm. Then that knife is in his hand again.

Fear races in your veins, making your eyes screw shut, about to scream. A powerful stab through your sternum doesn't come however, instead it's another little sting. Then another. And another.

You count eight altogether until Leon pulls away, letting you open your eyes and peek at what he did. There, below your collarbone close to the area where just beneath your crimson stained skin lies your heart. That suddenly soars and falls all at once. Small cuts, forming letters. Spelling out his possessiveness, his need to make you bleed so pretty for him and remind everyone who's prize you are. That he plans to keep a while longer.

'L S K'.

[silentgrim]

i fucked around with my files on my pc and now i lost a lot of shit so aha whoopsie

[nepthys-merenset]

FUCK

I FORGOT THAT THIS WAS THE CONSEQUENCE OF HAVING LOW INFLUENCE IN THIS DUMPSTER FIRE OF A STORY

I'M SORRY PIERCE

also, uh, the way this choice is phrased? andrea is one cooooold bitch. it couldn't have even been "i can't save him"? it had to be "eh i don't care, just kill him"? fuck. i hate this story.

[tinylittlelee]

got destroyed by a couple of lers in a server today 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈

[cookiequeenfish]

Hello my Bitches and Bros and Non-Binary Hoes✨

[charlieandluigi]

Ao3 is down and I’ve literally just been sitting here for hours rewatching my favorite episode of my current hyperfixation cause I desperately need serotonin and rn I have no other sources of joy.

[anonymocha]

yurification is an actual word

[deweydecimalchickens]

I finally got to try nattō (chilled fermented soybeans)! I was excited to try some in Japan but it all had fish in.

Um. Oh. Oh no.

It's fucking horrible! It doesn't taste of ANYTHING, so you really get to focus on the texture. The texture is very very very very very very bad. Awful. No good. Terrible. Horrible. BAD.

[fairy-grotto]

Hahah recoup day 🙃

[allthebestscreennamesaregone63]

BREAKING: local woman on clown behavior gets fucking obliterated. MORE AT 11.

[xgutter-glitterx]

Instead of using 3tbsp milk and 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract I used 2tbsp heavy whipping cream, 2tbsp water, 1tsp of rose cocktail syrup and only Jesus's left middle toe knows how much Chambord from the tiny liquor bottle I got bc I wanted the bottle not the liquor

[aro-ortega]

omg wyll is dead oops oops oops

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

I had to choose between judging Hérbert or Danton (the other would go to another judge and probably be guillotined) and I chose Hérbert. He started yelling at me from the stand. I asked him like two questions then let him go and now both the aristocrats and Robespierre want me dead. Girl help.

Also the other judge must have also let Danton go cuz he's still alive?? Hérbert ran away from Paris but fuckin Danton stayed here??? And he knows I betrayed him. Literally no way I'm getting out of this alive

[ruvigapo]

Working out the issues

[velvetsands]

finally found WHY my therapy for cancer will usher in a new forefront in immunotherapy extremely casually on a monday afternoon