#resident evil request

[aquidragon]

Halloween fic idea: You are in a haunted house with a few friends and you come across a painting on the wall. And although you leave, you couldn't get this painting out of your head, so you go back to go admire it one last time. However, much to your surprise, the man in the painting comes to life. and his name is PLAGAS LEONNNNN

DUD DUD DUH DDDDDUUUUUHHHHHH

i may have put too much effort into this than i thought, but fuck it, we ball!

---

Rating: T

CW(s): none (that I'm aware of)

Word Count: 2083

---

Everyone knew not to approach the haunted mansion on top of the hill, which casted it’s shadow down upon the small, sleepy town in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t sure why you allowed yourself to be dragged along by your friends to explore the abandoned house, especially the night before Halloween. 

You panted heavily as you reached the crest of the wheat colored hill, dried grass and leaves crunched underneath your laced boots with every step. The mansion itself must’ve been beautiful once, in it’s hayday, but now the white paint was mostly faded and chipped off. All the windows were shattered, or boarded up with wooden planks. Overgrown plants took over the main balcony, a garden of uncontrolled weeds twisting and weaving around eachother. 

Most of your friends, to your dismay, had already entered the mansion; leaving you to your own disposal. You looked up at the impressive, crumbling structure, a cold ball of dread sunk down to your stomach. You felt sick. The doors loosely hung on their rusted hinges, you were surprised that the entrance was never sealed up. 

With a deep sigh, you stepped into the mansion. You marveled at the giant, vintage chadiellor that hung from the ceiling; it’s crystals catching the setting sunlight, twinkling patterns over the tall walls. You stepped forward, in the center of the large main room, despite the chill that rattled down your spine; the decaying space felt peaceful. 

You inhaled sharply, the scent of mildew, dust and what smelled like a distinct copper filled your nose. You instantly coughed, your lungs protesting the intrusion of dust alongside the favored oxygen. You tried to peel your ears, to see if you could hear your friends’ excited chatter, but you were met with silence. 

“Guys?” You called out, grabbing the flashlight from your bag, shining it down the dark hallway to your right. 

Silence, again. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up the massive staircase that was ahead of you. Many of the wooden stairs were missing planks, with jagged rusty nails sticking up, just waiting to give someone tetanus. You walked to the base of the steps, shining the flashlight up, frowning. “Are you guys up there?”

Crickets. 

“Great,” you mumbled, heart pounding in your ears. You figured your best bet would to search the first floor of the mansion first, and was the safest. The evening breeze whispered through the gaping doorway of the entrance, as you decided to go down the hallway to your right. It was pitch black, without your flashlight, you would’ve been practically blinded. 

Portraits of what seemed to be high-ranking individuals lined both walls, you shone your light on them, a brass plaque with their name and the year was placed below each painting. You paused to read each name, getting a glimpse of the manor’s history. To your surprise, it seemed that the dates were recent, instead of ancient; like you had figured. 

You continued to walk down the black corridor, before almost colliding into a closed door. You knocked on the oak surface, hesitantly. “Are you guys in there?” You asked, more loudly than you intended. Suddenly, a freezing gust of wind blew down the hallway, as you swore the eyes of each portrait pinned on you. 

You swallowed deeply, a trickle of sweat lingered on your forehead. You turn around, ready to head back to search the other hallway, before the yellow light of your flashlight catches a dark figure. At the end of the hallway, staring back with you with empty eyes, motionless. Your knees almost buckled with dread, not recoginzing the silhouette to match any of your friends’. You felt more eyes digging onto you, watching for your next move. 

You swung your body back around, as soon as you heard footsteps coming behind you. You glanced back, the mysterious figure was gone, but the steps kept getting closer. Without a second thought, you yanked the door open, flinging yourself inside the room. Against your better judgement, you grabbed nearby desk-chair, and barricaded it underneath the brass doorhandle. 

“No way.” You gasped to yourself, feeling adrenaline pumping through your veins like morphine. Was this place really haunted? 

You looked back at the small room you had locked yourself into, noting the small fireplace; and the large portrait that hung above it. The fireplace crackled to life, making you jump, and effectively making your blood run cold. Orange light flooded the room, illuminating the painting hanging at the hearth. 

A man of ash-blond hair, with fringed bangs sat before you. His eyes were painted a brilliant shade of bloody crimson, with high, handsome cheekbones. A faintest hint of a smirk graced his pale blush lips, as his gaze pierced through his portrait. You timidly approached the painting, the bronze plaque underneath was faded, his identity wiped clean from existence. 

Strangely, you felt disappointed, not knowing the mysterious man’s identity. You looked back at the painting, a bit of his chest was exposed through the loose fitting white blouse. You tentatively traced your finger over the textured oil paint, but your fingerprint caught no dust. Was someone maintaining the portrait? 

Before you could investigate farther, your friends shouted your name from the other side of the door. You scrambled to the door, moving the chair out of the way, and peeking out the door. Your three friends stared back at you, with mirrored concerned expressions. You gave them an embarrassed grin, before starting to follow them out the door. 

You turned back one last time, to take one last glimpse at the portrait, burning scarlet eyes briefly met yours, before the fire whooshed out and the door slammed shut. Your eyes widened and you scurried after your group, with your heart racing. 

So why did you return to the next evening? You weren’t exactly sure, but you were drawn to the portrait you saw in the small room. The full, October moon hung high in the night sky, as wispy clouds drifted across the horizon. You stood at the broken entrance doorway again, staring into the dark void. 

With a deep, unsure breath, you crossed into the threshold. Transported into another world, carried on by your morbid sense of curiosity. You made a beeline to the room again, flashlight tight in your hand, as you carried yourself through the corridor. Countless painted eyes followed you as you approached the door, and your hand pushed on the cold brass doorhandle. 

It was locked. 

You felt an odd feeling of disappointment settle in your stomach. You had come all this way just for the door to be locked? It wasn’t locked yesterday. 

Hesitantly, your knuckles rapped against the oak surface, and almost instantly; the door creaked open. The fire ignited to life, and the portrait was empty. Your eyes widened, as you walked over to investigate the empty frame. “-but it was there yesterday?” You mumbled to yourself, questioning your memory. 

The door slamming shut behind you yanked you from your thoughts, as you jumped and scrambled to grab the pocket knife you had brought with you; pointing it at at the door. A man, the same man as the one you had saw in the portrait stood at the door, blocking your only exit route. His red eyes met you with an intense, cold ferocity you had never seen before. 

“Don’t come any closer!” You shouted, pointing the silver blade threateningly at the mystery-man. 

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his partially bare torso, dangerous spikes bristled from his spine as he glowered at you. “You think that pathetic thing can kill me? Please.” He rolled his eyes, carelessly approaching you. 

You cowered slightly, scooting against the wall, the heat of the fireplace radiating the left side of your face. You hid your face in your arms, maybe you were dreaming? You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you were in some sick nightmare that your conscious decided to conjure up on Halloween night. However, the stinging feeling of your hair being yanked up was real. 

Portrait man peered at your face, using his grip on your head to shift you around to different angles. Studying your appearance closely, before his eyes seemed to light up with a form of recognition. “You’re the woman from yesterday.” He commented, letting go of your hair. “Why the fuck did you come back?”

You tenderly rubbed your scalp, the slight sting started to ebb away. “The more important question is, how the fuck are you alive?” You hissed back, against your better judgement. 

“You shouldn’t be here!” The blond growled, eyes glancing over at the shut door behind him. “It’s dangerous for humans.” 

“I just wanted to investigate your portrait a bit closer.” You explained hotly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t know this place was haunted by walking paintings, what are you, anyway?” 

Mystery man wrinkled his nose, as if he was amused. “I think the proper question is; ‘who are you?’” He snidely commented. 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he hushed you instantly. “To answer your kind question, I’m Leon Scott Kennedy.” He hummed down at you, “and you are?” 

Your name felt strange on your lips, as you told him. Leon repeated your name, tasting it on his tongue, as it were a fine candy. “To answer your rude question, I’m a cursed man, to put it simply.” 

“Is that why you’re trapped in a painting?” You asked, feeling a bit dumb. 

“Partially,” Leon grunted in annoyance, “-also my appearance.” He flexed the spines on his back and shoulders. Small black veins bulged through his pale skin, and what seemed to be tiny worms wiggled around his chest. 

You gagged at the sight, feeling intense unease. 

“Maybe you can help free me,” the blond stated cooly. His crimson eyes bore into you, with an unreadable expression. “I just require one, simple, request.” 

“A simple request?” You breathed, hesitantly. “How can I free you?” 

Leon smirked, squatting down to your level, his tight navy tousers hugged his thighs delightfully. The amber light of the fireplace illuminated his porcelain skin, including the exposed skin of his pectorial muscles. “You know how to break curses, don’t you?” He whispered into your ear, tickling the back of your neck. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered. 

“Oh, I think you do, sweetheart.” He grinned wolfishly. “You read it in your storybooks, saw it in Disney movies, I think you know.” 

Oh. 

“You mean, a-a kiss?” You bit the inside of your lip, blood rushing to your face.

“That’s exactly what I mean, doll.” Leon sat back on his haunches to look at you. “You’re beautiful, innocent, an ideal person to break my curse.” 

You felt an odd sense of anxiety budding in your chest, as you flinched away from him. “How do I know I can trust you? Will it even work?” You asked, brain spinning. 

The handsome man shrugged, the loose white blouse drifting around his broad shoulders. “If it doesn’t, I’m quite used to this lack-of-life.” He glanced at you, a charming smile spreading across his lips. “Of course, I’m giving you a choice. There’s not much I can do to get you to trust me-” he gestured to his spikes, “-but I promise I won’t hurt you.” 

Your jaw set as you weighed your options, feeling overwhelmed by the burning eyes that stared into yours intensely, as well as his plump pink lips. You swallowed deeply, washing a piece of the anxiety that lodged in your throat away. “F-Fine, it can’t hurt to try, right?” 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

Leon smiled at you, genuinely, and his shoulders seem to melt with relief. “Thank you.” He leaned into your lips, delicately meeting your mouth his his. Your eyes fluttered shut, as one of his hands ghosted on your cheek. The coldness of his skin started to turn into warmth, as more color began to rush into his flesh. He inhaled sharply as he felt life flow back through his veins, as the plagas around his chest wiggled in delight. 

You had done it, the stange, mysterious wanderer who happened to find his portrait gave him life again. Your lips tasted like bubblegum, as he fully melted into the kiss. After a moment, Leon had finally pulled away, the redness in his eyes faded into a gentler blue. “Did I do it?” You gasped breathlessly, eyes wide. 

“Yeah,” he croaked, “I think you did.”  ---

dedicated to the re4 remake romantic skin!!

[thewritersaddictions]

Hey I saw you had requests open and wanted to know if you write nsfw, if so, can I request something with brat Cassandra Dimitrescu being spanked over the female!reader's lap with a belt before she's fucked from behind while still across the reader's lap? Also with a little humiliation and brat taming added in? If you don't write nsfw it's okay, just thought I'd ask.

Here you go lovely. Hope you enjoy, requests are open!

[wiltkingart]

at your service (or demise)

[fantaorange]

the husband and wife ever btw…

[melancholyhigh]

Happy trail obsessed reader waking up early to make leon breakfast only to have him come downstairs in the middle of it shirtless and happy trail of display? PLEASE I NEED IT 😘😘😘😍😻😻😻😍😘 (i would prefer if it was fluff but smut is just as good 😍)

GAZE.

content. 0.3k words. js fluff ‘nd some domesticity, mentions of sex. i'm sorry if it's too short.

note. grrr. i love his lil happy trail sm. ty for feeding the delusions <3

masterlist. requests & feedback are welcomed!

You hadn’t meant to wake him up. Leon was a light sleeper, so when he heard the commotion you were causing downstairs, he couldn’t help but stir awake. He was grouchy, not because you had woken him up, but because you weren’t next to him when he did rouse awake.

A creek in the floorboard alerts you he’s nearing your position in the kitchen. You felt guilty for waking him up, but who puts the utensils so high up on the shelves? Leon, because he thinks it’s cute when you ask him to get them down. It isn’t so cute when they’re falling onto the floor.

“Mornin’, baby. Why are you up so early?” he asks, his voice gruff as he calls you out.

“Can’t I treat you, sweetheart?” you reply. You’re always treating him, he supposes. Usually, you’re both in bed together, spending the morning away before performing daily responsibilities. He doesn’t know why today’s different, but Leon can’t complain. He does love getting spoiled by you.

You observe as he walks into the dining area, shirtless (you’re wearing said shirt) and stretching his tired muscles. You admire the veins that trail down into his shorts and the fading pink bruises that follow them. Most importantly, you marvel at the dark curls that lead down his abdomen from his belly button into his shorts, which were very low on his hips.

You don’t know why it makes you so hot and bothered. It drives you insane, and Leon isn’t even doing anything sensual. He’s drinking orange juice for crying out loud.

Leon also doesn’t understand why you’re obsessed with his happy trail. But he does love the look you give him. He loves it when you stop what you’re doing just to gaze at him as if he hung the stars just for you.

“You’re not treating me to burnt eggs, right?”

“Shut up, Leon.”

[lipglossanon]

Nothing But Trouble

Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

word count: 1995

requested by the wonderful @ao3-rex1223 💜🥺

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest (kinda lol), daddy kink, dirty talk, kissing, fingering, spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Proofread! ✍️

The first time’s an accident. Your mom tells you she’ll be gone on a work trip for a few days. Plenty of time to invite Leon over for a mini sleepover. So it’s a surprise when you and Leon are getting hot and heavy on the couch to see headlights splash bright light through the windows, making you pull away from him. 

“Oh my god, she’s home,” you panic, standing up from the couch and tugging Leon’s hand. “We need to hide out in my room.”

He grins, a wicked curve of his lips, “You don’t want her to see us, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes and lead him upstairs as you hear the garage door roll open, “Yeah, not with your hand down my pants.”

He pushes against your back to quicken your pace. Once inside, he shuts the door before turning to you. He manhandles you until you’re bent over the bed, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down. 

Groaning, he swipes his fingers across your slit, “So wet for me, baby. Like that daddy’s playing with this cute pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, burying your face into the sheets, “want you so bad.”

“Poor thing,” he mockingly coos down at you before landing a loud slap across your ass, “shouldn’t have been a little brat then, huh?”

“Daddy,” you hiccup as he spanks your ass again, “‘m sorry.”

“Shhh, unless you want your mom coming in here to see her little girl being split open on my cock,” he laughs. “I won’t mind it—show her what a tight, slutty pussy looks like.”

Slick leaks from your hole and glistens off your thighs as Leon spanks you over and over until the skin is hot. Without any warning, you feel him notch the fat head of his cock against your cunt and bottom out in one stroke. His palm covers your mouth right as you scream, body thrashing underneath his heavy weight. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” his amused voice murmurs in your ear, “I’m just giving you what you want. Don’t you want daddy’s big cock stuffing you full?”

Your eyes roll back as he grinds even deeper into your pussy, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix in a way that makes your cunt gush, pleasure-pain skating up your spine. His hand moves from your mouth to press against the back of your head while the other slips under your body, pulling the hood of your clit back so the sensitive nub can grind against the duvet. 

A stuttering moan leaves your lips, the squelching from his dick pistoning into your cunt sounding loud and salacious in your small room. His rough thrusts grind your clit against your bedspread, sending molten heat to pool in your belly. Leon’s hand grips your head and pulls you up until your body bows. 

“This pussy’s just made for my fat cock, isn’t it, baby?” He grunts, “God, your mom could walk in at any time and see me pounding your hot, wet cunt.”

His dick brushes against your g-spot, making you squeal and clamp down on him.

“Daddy,” you pant, “I’m so close, I wanna cum, please let me cum.”

“Such a good little slut,” he praises, “what if I said no?”

Tears clump your lashes together, “Oh, please. I’ll be so good, daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock. Need you to cum in my pussy.”

He chuckles and stills inside your throbbing walls, sending you into a tailspin of need. Your hips writhe back, trying to hump down on his cock, but he stills you with an iron grip on your waist. 

“Now, that’s two different things, baby girl,” he whispers into your ear, “you want to cream my cock,” he slips a hand down to your spread open cunt to teasingly rub your swollen clit, “but then, say you need me to cum inside your fat, drippy pussy? Which is it?”

“Fuck, please,” you mewl, brain hazy with pleasure, “please, daddy.”

“Aww, since you’re asking so nicely, I’ll let you have both,” he croons against your hair, “cream my cock and I’ll breed this sweet hole til my cum’s dripping out.”

Shuddering, your hips buck forward into his fingers before pressing back, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt. A few more tight circles against your pudgy clit and your orgasm overtakes your senses. Your pussy walls clamp and pulse against his cock as Leon fucks you harder and harder. He bites down on your shoulder, burying his cock deep inside your hole, cum spurting from his tip as his balls empty into your pussy. 

“Good girl,” he pats your hip, sinking more of his weight onto your back until you’re both prone on the bed.

His weight feels nice, lulling you into a sleepy daze as he pets your sides and brushes your hair away from your face. He hisses when his cock softens enough to slip from your messy cunt, slick and cum dripping onto the bed. He cuddles you into his broad chest until a sharp rap at your door startles you both. 

“Honey, you awake?”

You freeze, looking at Leon who only laughs to himself. He gets up off your bed and steps into your closet, shooting you a wink as he shuts the door. You bundle your blanket up around your shoulders and clear your throat. 

“Y-yeah, come in,” you answer her, hoping it doesn’t smell too much like sex. 

Opening the door, she walks into your room with a little smile, “I know I wasn’t due back for a few more days, but they canceled the guest speaker at the last minute.”

“Oh,” you cringe internally, knowing your voice’s a little higher than usual. “Are they going to reschedule?”

She hums, eyes scanning your room before coming back to you, “Yes, it’s early next week, so I’ll be leaving again soon.”

You nod, “Okay then.”

“Well,” she tilts her head slightly, “guess I’ll let you get back to resting.”

She pauses for a second, a little frown pinching her brows before she laughs to herself, “Say hi to that boyfriend of yours.”

“What?” You call out, acid swirling in your stomach. 

She waves you off and shuts your door, footsteps disappearing down the hall. You raise up and look over your bed to see Leon’s jacket bundled up at the foot of your bed. 

“It’s new. She won’t recognize it,” his smooth voice cuts into your thoughts as he steps out. 

“Oh my god,” you flop back onto your bed, “my heart’s beating so fast.”

You let out a little laugh while Leon sits on the edge of your bed. 

“Up for a little more?” The corner of his lips quirks up into a half smile as he trails his fingers up to your thigh. 

From then on, you sneak Leon into the house at every opportunity. Your mom gives you sly little glances when she catches a man’s jacket strewn over the back of the couch or sees a pair of shoes kicked off by the door. Somehow, you’re always able to keep her finding out that it’s Leon who’s your new beau. 

Even though he tries his damndest to get you caught every. single. time. 

“C’mon, baby, let me hear you,” he goads, fingers buried knuckle deep in your cunt as you sit next to him on the couch, “your mom’s due back any time.”

He pulls out his fingers and adds a third to your hole before pressing them back inside, tips rubbing against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy. Leon bites your neck, sucking the skin as his thumb slowly rubs across your swollen clit. 

“Oh fuck, Leon,” you slur, head tipping back against the couch, making it easier for him to suck and bite at the column of your neck. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he nips the shell of your ear, “this hungry little cunt’s just sucking my fingers in, can’t wait to feel her around my cock.”

“Daddy,” you gasp wantonly, hips rolling down into his hand, “want that, want your cock.”

“Oh, I know,” he simpers, kissing your cheek, “my poor baby and her sweet pussy need daddy to breed her all night long.”

Goosebumps prickle along your skin as your thighs fall open even wider, “God, yes, please, want you to cum in me so bad.”

He growls and fingerfucks your cunt even harder, slick splashing against his palm as it slaps against your mound. The trill of your phone doesn’t even slow him down as you shakily bring it up to see who’s calling. 

“It’s my mom,” you whimper and he only smirks, fingers still pumping into your chubby cunt, “Leon.”

“Answer it, slut,” he slows his rough pace but keeps his fingers rubbing against your g-spot as you shakily answer the call. 

“H-hi mom,” you swallow down the moans wanting to escape, “y-yeah my boyfriend’s here.”

Leon laughs into your neck and picks back up the hard and fast pace from earlier, pussy loudly squelching and making you squirm. 

“Huh? No, no, we’re just making s-some food,” you shut your eyes, hoping and praying the orgasm you feel building in your core holds off just a little longer. 

“Oh? You’re on your way home? Oh no, he’ll be gone by then,” you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as Leon’s thumb circles your clit just right, ratcheting your arousal higher and higher with every press. 

“Okay, yeah, u-uh yeah, you t-too, mmhmm,” your mind is blurring, “talk to you later.”

The hand holding the phone drops down onto the couch as Leon brings you to the edge and pushes you over. Slick gushes from your cunt, squirting out all over the couch, Leon’s arm, and onto the floor. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, daddy, ‘m cumming,” you wail, back arching as his fingers keep thrusting in and out of your hole, “fuck!”

You squirt again as his fingers keep rubbing and pressing against the spongy spot in your cunt that has your walls fluttering like crazy. After making you cum again, he finally eases his fingers from your swollen cunt, lightly petting your clit with wet fingers until you whimper. 

“Fuck me,” you spread your pussy open, folds wet and hole clenching around nothing, “breed me right here, right now, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he growls out, undoing his belt and jeans, quickly shoving them down his thighs to pull his cock free. 

You moan as soon as you see his sticky uncut tip, “Please, Leon, want it.”

There’s no finesse as he shoves his cock inside your overly sensitive pussy, not worried about your pleasure at all at this moment. 

“What a fucking slut,” he laughs meanly, pinching your clit, “you’re gonna get us caught cause I’m not stopping—told you that I’m gonna breed you all night.”

“Don’t care,” you gasp, pussy rippling around his cock, “just fill me up, feels so good.”

“Goddamn,” he bares his teeth at you, “fuck, you’re so perfect. Got the best fucking pussy.”

Half a dozen thrusts later and he’s spilling hot and thick inside your cunt, sticky ropes of cum painting your pussy walls white. 

“Oh god,” you whimper, cunt clenching rhythmically around Leon’s softening cock. 

“We’re not finished,” the words rumble from his chest. 

With a squeal, Leon pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you upstairs into your room. Shutting your door, he shoves you up against it, licking into your mouth messily, spit dripping from your lips as he kisses you heatedly. 

A half hour later, when your mom comes home, she can hear the rhythmic thudding of you getting your pussy railed against your door by, unbeknownst to her, the man who used to be your step dad. She only laughs in embarrassment, planning on talking to you about maybe taking your extracurricular activities to your boyfriend’s place to avoid any awkward talks like this in the future.

[5eraphim]

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭🧡

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt. 

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team. 

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat. 

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer. 

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down. 

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove. 

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity. 

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

[bweoo]

Just Leon forcing y/n to kiss him. or sedating her, whichever, you choose thank you <333

Leon would definitely drug you >:3c

[shortstrawberry]

A RL AU where Donna is Dr. Donna Beneviento, your Professor of Botany and Toxicology. Because we deserve it.

You met Dr Beneviento in a totally cliche way. By bumping into her while you're running late for your first day at college. At that time you didn't even realise she is a professor at the college. Dr. Donna has this young baby face that would make anyone think she's a senior at college, and not a woman well into her thirties.

So it's no wonder that you made a complete fool of yourself in the first meeting. You apologise 10 times for knocking her books all over the place. You also noticed her trying to hide her scarred side of face while gathering the very same books with you. Like a over enthusiastic idiot, you went ahead and tried to make your future professor feel comfortable about it with you.

"Scars are beautiful in my opinion. They show you survived so much. You don't need to hide them, at least from me."

Thankfully, Dr Beneviento didn't take any offence to your eager compliments, and instead just blushed and smile at you. That was enough for you to get your first crush at college. But like the gay panicky idiot you are, you didn't take her name or number. Still, you figured your roommates would know about her. How hard can it be to find a beautiful pale faced senior in college?

Not so hard, you figured out as the very same beautiful woman showed up in your Botany lecture. That's right, the woman you had tried to shamelessly flirt with was your Professor.

Understandably, you were mortified. You approached her after class, fully intending to kowtow before the professor in apology. Dr Beneviento though shyly waved your apologies away, instead asking you to assist her in her botanical garden.

A first year being asked to be a professor's assistant is no doubt strange. But Dr Beneviento was so insistent you take the job. She even went ahead and assured you a good pay and two days holiday in a week. Something she honestly didn't even need to do. You were already such a simp for her and would have done it for free.

And so starts you getting to know your Botany professor up close. The woman was almost always squeaky shy, the tempo of her voice barely reaching above her whisper. But when she stands on her podium, teaching a batch of 100+ students, you swear a spilt personality takes over the normally shy professor. It shows that Donna knows the shit she is teaching, and she demands respect over it from her students.

However, it soon became obvious that Dr Beneviento harbours a sweet spot for you. You'll always remember that one moment where she had caught you sleeping in one of her classes. You had stayed up all late tending to the new batch of soil you're preparing for the garden. The usually impartial professor came up to your seat, took off her trenchcoat and draped it over your sleeping form. She even went ahead patting your head before continuing with her class. She also did this in front of 100+ students.

After this, you can't help but get your hopes up high. Still, she's your professor and there's nothing you can do on your end. What if you have it all wrong and Dr Beneviento cares for you because you're her niece Angie's friend? And so you keep quiet.

Little do you know, Professor Donna Beneviento fell for you at first sight. Inviting you to be her botanical garden assistant was a ploy to get close to you. Inviting you and Angie to her cottage for dinner was a ploy to get to know you outside of classes and work. But just like you, Donna is also afraid of making the first move. Especially when you're still her student and she is so much older then you in age. For now, she is content to admire you from as close as she can get to you.

Wanna see a jealous and possessive Professor Donna in action? Let me know!

[mydarlingclaudia]

Hello! I dont know if this count as request but something something about Leon slipping the heels for us and kissing the knees :(

No pressure my love💌

hi hi!! omg yes ofc I actually had something in my drafts to remind me to write something like this!! thank you so much for requesting here’s a little blurb <3 also I think this can be seen as any Leon after re2r but I imagined re6 Leon <3

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy wc : 672

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s late when you walk through the door, you’re not sure what time, but all the neighboring houses have their lights turned out, Leon must be asleep. You’re tired, thank God you didn’t pass out on the drive home. A night out with your friends had been long overdue, Leon was fine with it, he was just going to stay home and finish some paperwork, anyway.

You make your way through the kitchen and hallway to get to yours and Leon’s bedroom, you hear the hum of the tv through the door, maybe he fell asleep with the tv on?

When you open the door, he’s awake, sitting up against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes flicking to you once you step inside.

“Hey,” Leon sits up straighter, lifting the blanket from his lap and ignoring whatever news anchor he was watching before. “Have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nod and set your purse down on the dresser as one hand rubs over your face. “Why’re you still up?”

Leon chuckles and stands from the bed, coming around it and making his way to you. “What, don’t want me waiting up for you?” You step forward and let him wrap your arms around you, you rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

“Mm, no. I gotta get ready for bed, though.”

“Tired?”

“I feel like that’s obvious.” Leon snickers and presses kisses to the top of your head, you let out a hum of appreciation.

“I got you, don’t worry.” You let out a soft groan when he pulls away from you, watching him move to the dresser to pull out your pajamas, making his way to you again.

“You don’t gotta dress me,”

“Can I undress you, at least?”

“Yeah,” You giggle, Leon wastes no time in untucking your shirt from your shirt, you lift your arms up so he can pull it up over your head. “I hope you aren’t just trying to get me naked.”

“Would you complain?”

“If you make me do the work, maybe.” Leon chuckles and gently kisses you while he unclasped your bra and slides the straps off your shoulders. He says nothing else when he leans down to press kisses to your collarbone, sliding your skirt down your hips and letting it pool on the floor around your heels.

“Sit down,” He puts your pajama shirt in your hands, you sit down on the edge of the bed while you pull on your shirt. Your skin tingles underneath Leon’s fingertips when he trails them down your legs, kneeling down in front of you.

Leon’s quick to undo the straps of your heels, his forehead pressed against your knee while he watches his hands. You giggle when he lets out a small huff of frustration, grabbing your foot and putting it in his lap so he can see better.

He eventually gets your heel off, tossing it to the floor at the foot of your bed then moves to the other one. Leon sighs when he’s done and looks up at you, you smile down at him.

“I love you,” You tell him.

“Love you more,” Leon knocks his forehead against your knee, after a few seconds he starts kissing at your knees and calves, trailing his lips up and down, making sure to get the insides and outsides of your legs, too.

“That tickles,”

"Sorry," He doesn't stop, continuing to plant kisses over your knee-caps before giving the skin above gentle nips, then finally pulling away and standing up again. "You look tired."

"Then stop distracting me from going to bed." Leon sits down next to you and shuffles onto his side of the bed, patting the spot beside him for you to lie down. You don't hesitate, it's routine, one of his arms wrapped around you, your head buried in his chest or neck.

"This good enough for you?" You nod, his arm tightens around you while his hand absentmindedly runs up and down your spine.

[qvrcll]

Hello :) I saw you are tking requests and I have something on my mind for a quite some time...If you maybe could write Leon Kennedy ID x younger (like in her early 20s) girlfriend reader where they are making love and chris walk on them. But if you dont want to write it you dont need to so feel no pressure. have a nice day :)

rosemary

summary: whilst you and leon share skin to skin contact in the fervent heat of your bedroom, a gentle intrusion seems to knocks things out of prospect. still, does it have to be so complicated?

warnings: female reader, ID ! leon, nsfw under the cut, getting walked in on EL OH EL, fluff if you squint i swear

a/n: hi lovely thank u for the request!! i had a great time writing this and i hope you enjoy :-)

Leon was 180 centimetres of hard, breathing flesh — that, put up against you in such a compromising position as this, made things all too complicated. Brooding, in a sense that make things sweat, heave with pounding release.

Of course, he never played the fair game, however many times he swore he would.

He’s got you folded in half already, quivering cunt spurting a heat so delicious, it sinks him in like a vice when he gives into it. His hands, dangerous aviaries that hold every part of you in place, scavenge across your body like he has never seen you like this before. Never had you quite this deep, this desperate and thrashing before.

But he has, and he knows it all too fucking well.

“Like it when I do that, hm?” he spits out, throat abused by the abundant swell of groans and other string of pathetic noises that leave him. Still, he’s zeroed in on you only — the way you croon against him like a helpless little thing, bundled up beneath him in a mess of nerves, an assortment of pleas, pitching high from “r-right there!” and “m-mhm… just—like that…”

He’s learnt it all — your noises, twitches. The sensitive grip of skin underneath your thigh that leaves you breathless and moaning. Two, three, four slick fingers intruding your cunt, leaving you sore and satisfied the next day. He’s made love to you, and this only seems it, that familiar beckoning gush of your walls pressing against his cock like it had so many other times before.

And it’s barely coordinated, when your hand sinks lower, between the fervent slaps of either of your bodies in a distorted rhythm, seeking to pay attention to the awful throb of your clit and you mewl when his own hands quickly supersede yours in quick fashion. They’re larger, cover more space and bear more weight beneath the flesh, when he grants you some mercy by slathering any wetness against your clit and doing the work for you.

Aw, how sweet of you, Kennedy.

Is what you would have uttered. Smirked with a superlative sense of ungratefulness, if he wasn’t aiming to drill another hole into you.

“Fuck—“ he curses above you, and it all falls out of rhythm. A delicious combination of all your senses. A sign of your impending release.

You remember the gruelling trip back in his car.

You remember the awful coldness of the elevator as he pressed you against the familiar glint of it, mouth all full of the taste you and a raging sense of impatience.

You remember tripping into his room, already bare. Already responding to his cut-throat presses and licks in seconds.

“You close, sweetheart?” He calls you. But for you, it’s a reminder, that you are still here, underneath him. Writhing, thrashing, but with him nonetheless. Heated and throbbing, but fingers interlocked with his in ceremonious fashion. And the thought makes you smile, sloppy and twitching, through the lewdness of the thick air.

And you can do nothing except claw at him, use him as a living, breathing grounding machine. Can do nothing but hold him so desperately as you break, count the wrinkles against his forehead as he pushes into you again. Await the swift hit of release as you choke out, “Y-Yeah… I—I’m… close… mnng—“

“Leon? You in here?”

The additional voice is distant, airy almost. You almost wonder if you’d imagined it, sorted it out of nothing from your deeply calibrated mess of a brain.

The sex must’ve driven me mad, you think. Almost laugh, but don’t, as light hits your eyes.

And that familiar coil in your tummy dampens, aches, is reduced to ashes as Leon scrambles for the blanket with a large scoff, wraps you gently with it and shields your body against his — the heat of your sweat and the lathering material from the blanket does more to irritate you, but it would do, when Chris himself was standing calcified and struck dumb with confusion in the arch of your doorway.

So much for locking the door.

“Chris, get out!” Leon yells, sifts for his shirt. Cards the floor for his pants and undergarments. He’s almost fully dressed as Chris grumbles out an apology, staggering out of the room with a limp you didn’t recognise he had ever worn before.

And you’re moth-eaten, hot, underneath the covers. Some part of you is mortified, but the larger part is aching for relief. Your legs are tense with the course of your muscles and sweat coats you in a messy sheen. But the ache between your legs is stagnant, mulling in sick waters like a beaten soldier.

“Sweetheart?”

It takes you a few counted minutes to realise your current predicament — Chris had seen the two of you in bed by pure accident, and with the last shred of consciousness you possess, you burst with colour. Still, Leon’s voice is molten. Electric. It sends sparks flying and frothing at your skin, as his arm skirts over yours in that familiar fashion — a silent kiss inked into your skin by touch alone, a low voice muttering ‘It’s alright. It’s okay.’

And he smiles, wide and large, smile lines soothing the ache and bringing you to be. You’re almost relieved, almost rid of that throe in you, sex nearly forgotten until he speaks again,

“Don’t touch yourself until I’m back. You can do that, can’t you? Hm?”

And as he leaves, smirking, you swiftly melt into the suffocating creases of your shared bed, charged up all over again.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[pixelscutz]

punishment - leon kennedy oneshot ꩜

warnings :: nsfw,, mdni,, anal,, oral,, etcetc

word count :: 1.1k

“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” Leon yells, the sound straining your ears into a relaxed humming as he grabs onto your arm. You roll your eyes, ignoring the amount of care he has for you. “I’m sorry, i’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”  

"Damn right you won't," he snaps, letting go of your arm. "Because if you do, I'll let the next enemy deal with you for good. This ain't a picnic. It's life or death. Grow up.” 

“What are you gonna do if I fuck up? Huh?” You sit down on the bed with a hairbrush in your hand. “If you care so much about me, why don’t you show it?” You feel your hair slip through the bristles of the brush. Leon sighs in response, moving towards the dimly lit bathroom, and taking off his shirt.

He looks at himself in the mirror, a twitch of sympathy being hinting on his face. “You know I love you y/n.” He turns to you, putting his hand on his hip. “I’m just.. worried something might happen to you. I care for you the most on this theme. Understand?” 

You nod, turning back to starting at the floor, trying not to cry. The next couple of minutes go by as Leon gets into the shower for the next couple of minutes as you try to settle into bed, avoiding the elephant in the room. When Leon walks back into the room, only wearing a slim pair of shorts, you shut your eyes trying not to look in his way. 

“Y/n.” Leon says, suddenly. You open your eyes to find him looking above you, with a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry.” He sits next to you, and moves your feet onto his legs. “How can I make it up to you?” 

You stay quiet for a second, thinking of all of the possibilities of what you can get him to do this time. “Hmm.” You say, in almost a teasing voice. “Maybe..” 

Leon rolls his eyes. “Well? Hurry up, or I’m going to take matters into my own hands.” 

You snort and shake your head. “I don’t want to say it. I’m not going to.” 

“Fine.” He says, ripping off the blanket from you. “You're not going to talk, I’m not going to listen.” He suddenly gets on top of you, looking straight into your eyes, his breathing leaving a warm tingle on your neck. His icy blue eyes are full of lust and desire. “Do you want this?” He says, while crashing his lips into yours, without waiting for your response. You feel you two fight for dominance with your tongue, feeling him win over you every second. He slowly leaves from the kiss and moves down to your neck, leaving bright red hickeys along the way. The stress between you two leaves, as he removes your shirt quickly, going back down to the end of your waist. 

“May I?” He asks quietly.

“Please” you whimper as he removes your sweatpants and notices the white pair of underwear you have on. “No lace?” He whispers to himself quietly. “It’s fine, as long as this pussy is mine.” He forces your legs as wide open as he could and put his head in between them. You can feel him licking your clit, the sensation giving you desperate tingles in your stomach. As he moves down he inserts his fingers abruptly into your ass. 

“Fuck!” You yell, louder than you expected. “Leon!” His response is him moving up to your throbbing pussy, inserting his tongue, while flicking his fingers towards your clit. You grab onto Leon’s hair, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. “Please.. please let me cum.” You say in between moans. As soon as you finish your sentence he jerks up and looks at you. 

“Not yet, I haven’t gotten to even show you this pretty cock.” He says, pulling off his shorts quickly. “I want to fuck you so hard, that you’ll forget your name by the end of it.” You notice his dick twitch as you slowly get up to take off his boxers. You slip it through your hands, feeling the pre-cum already being coated in your hands. As you slowly move it back and forth through your hands you feel Leon jerk his head back, making a soft groan. 

The sound brought music to your ears, so without a hesitation you push his cock into your mouth. Leon instantly grabbed onto your head and wrapped your hair into a make-shift bun. as you bobble your head back in forth. “Fuck..” You hear him mutter his breath. The heat between you two increases, and he starts to control you head back and forth, making grab onto his hips as you gag.

As you remove him from your mouth you look up to him with a teasing face. “Want more?” You ask as he rolls his eyes and turns you around onto your back. He grabs onto your hips, feeling evevery single part of you and your body. 

“I can’t believe all of this is mine.” As he continues to moving down to your ass you give a sudden squeak as he slaps you ass. He moves close to your ear. “You ready?” You nod, as you feel him insert himself into you. You shut your watering eyes as he thrusts forward, making you realse a soft moan. 

“Such a good fucking girl. I can’t believe this pretty pussy is mine.” Your hands tighten onto the sheets, as you push your face deeper into the pillow. 

“Leon. Please, fuck.” You whisper, “Let me cum.”

Leon grunts, “Should I?” He says as the clapping of skins grow louder. “Hmm..” 

“Please.” You beg. You feel his cock brushes against her G-spot, knowing you’re about to reach your climax. Leon grabs onto your shoulder, as he starts to find the extact spot to realse himself into. "I can't." You mutter, "I'm done.” 

 “Come all over my cock.” Your entire body tightens, screaming Leon’ name into the pillow and his hand lays on top of you.

 “Good girl.”

[spicerackofblorbos]

Home | Leon S. Kennedy x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon just came back from a mission and you missed him.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world, mentions of bruises and cuts, suggestive (MDNI)

☾ wc ➼ 750ish

The sound of muffled thumping coming from Leon's office wakes you up from the sofa where you had fallen asleep on. Instead of the movie you had playing in the background, the TV was off. Now, soft acoustic instrumentals sing through the record player in the corner.

Your eyes pop open as you're suddenly pulled out of your sleepy stupor and sit up quickly. Your neck turns to see the office door ajar, a faint yellow light glowing through the crack.

The blanket you were wrapped in falls to the floor as you stand. With new vigor, you start stepping towards the hopeful light. When you push it open gently, your heart skips a beat.

There he was, Leon currently organizing miscellaneous papers with a wary look on his face. A few day old scratches and bruises mar his pretty face but he was there, and he was whole. At the movement of the door, he looks up. Those blue eyes of his light up at the sight of you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. I didn't want to wake you.” Leon says with a lopsided grin.

You don't say anything. Instead, your face pulls into a large smile as you make your way over to where he sat behind his desk. He knows you well enough to pull away enough so that you can crawl into his lap, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and his arm around your waist. You nuzzle into his neck and sigh in relief.

Leon must have just gotten home because he still smelled of blood and sweat and his combat uniform still covered his body. Even the holsters were still in place, though now devoid of weaponry which is no doubt locked up safely in the hidden compartments of his office.

“Miss me?” Leon chuckles, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against your body. He starts to slowly rub circles on your back in a soothing manner. You nod slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter. As you hold on to him, you can feel him start to organize his mission reports.

Leon had been away for about a few days, which isn't long compared to his other missions, but the importance of the mission had you biting your nails down to the quick and wishing he was home instead. It's not every day when the assignment consists of rescuing the president's daughter in rural Spain.

“How did it go?” You eventually get out after a few minutes. Your soft voice comes muffled against his warm skin.

“The usual. Got my ass handed to me a few times, but I survived.” Leon jokes, pressing his cheek against your hair.

You pull away a little to be able to see his face better. You inspect every part of it from the side profile, and even more when he looks down at your sleepy face. The bruises were starting to turn yellow and the cuts were scabbed, not as angry red as you imagine they were at the beginning. The little freckles that dot his face, his captivating blue eyes that narrow in focus.

“Thank you for coming back to me.” You whisper softly, raising your hand to touch Leon's cheek. You pull him down until your lips press against his. He smiles into it and puts down the file he was holding so that he can hold on to you instead. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him as his kiss lingers.

Leon pushes himself away from the desk and stands up, carrying you bridal style effortlessly. As he does, he starts peppering your face with kisses, eliciting quiet giggles from you.

“I missed that sound. I wouldn't leave that for anything in the world.” Leon mumbles in between each kiss. He starts down the hallway where your shared bedroom lies. You can't help but squirm as your laughs get louder. He heads straight to the bathroom. “Wanna know what other noises I missed?” Leon looks down at you with a smirk.

“Leon!” You playfully slap his chest. “You just got home, get cleaned up first.” You chastise, but you can't help the bright smile.

“Oh, I intend to. And you're coming with, baby girl.” Leon suddenly shifts you so that you're thrown over his shoulder, then he slaps your ass playfully. The bathroom door closes in front of you as Leon kicks it closed.

[melancholyhigh]

sooo... i just read your "sunrise" fic and i'm obsessed. the plot was great and the way you narrated the feelings and the setting??? i'm in love. i live for your subby!leon. i don't know if you're taking requests right now but i would love to read more about him:)

MIDDAY.

ft. brother’s best friend!leon x afab!reader

synopsis. your mom thinks leon is a bad influence on your brother, but only if she knew how much of a good boy he is.

content. 0.6k words. smut. subby leon, handjob, begging, praise kink, thigh riding (?), edging, marking, sneaking around.

note. ty for the requests anon !! <33 it’s basically a 1.5 to sunrise. sorry for being so inactive :( tryna get through some requests <3 lmk if u guys would like a full sequel to sunrise tho!!

masterlist. reblogs & comments are appreciated :3

You couldn’t fathom how your mother could dislike Leon. He was one of your brother’s friends who didn’t actively try to be a nuisance to your neighbourhood, and it was shocking when they even became acquaintances – let alone best friends. 

She says he’s a bad influence on your brother, but he’s the kindest boy ever met. You must be biased because you think he’s a very good boy. He’s especially good when he’s beneath you, his blue eyes brimmed with tears, begging you to let him come, but, oh, doesn’t your perfect boy have such nice manners?

“Please, please, please, ‘m so close,” he’s sobbing as you continue to move your hand up and down his throbbing cock. Your digits are stained with tacky precum, thumbing the sensitive head. He was so gorgeous, rosy cheeks stained with tears, and his lips all swollen and slick with spit.

You told him a few minutes ago to quiet down — you’ll get caught, but he continues to whine and plead. You're beginning to think he wants to be seen at your mercy, crying for you. His soft whimpers and quiet moans get you aroused, soaking through your shorts, and Leon can feel you on his thighs where you’ve made yourself comfortable. It drove him mad when you rut against him, trying to soothe the ache between your legs that he caused.

He wants nothing more than for you to strip down and sit on his face for him to lap at your cunt like a starved man. Instead, you are entranced with him, admiring the cute expressions he makes when you give his dick a firm squeeze. He’d say it’s humiliating if it didn’t feel so good to be under you, panting and sobbing.

Arching his back, Leon feels his impending orgasm creep up on him, only to dissipate rather than crash when you cease your movements on his erection entirely. Head digging further into your pillow, he whines loudly, only to be muffled by your lips moving against his. Despite the seemingly delicate way in which you touch his body, your lips are hungry against his, tasting him as you stifle his moans.

Your lips trail from his to the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking red marks that were too difficult to hide, but that was the point. Your brother had congratulated him for finally getting some when he saw the purplish bruises on his fair skin. He chuckled at the irony of him fucking his sibling, boyishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“P- please, fuck, angel. Can I come?” he pleads. Leaning back on his thighs, you let your nails scrape the flesh on his chest and stomach, allowing red scratches to rise in its paths. He feels you shift on his thighs, subtly grinding your needy cunt on him as he begs for your attention on his cock. 

You had been denying his release for too long now, but you finally had time with him for yourself, so you wanted to abuse it to the best of your ability. When he peers up at you, gripping your hips so eagerly as moans slip past his parted lips, you want to give him to the moon and more. 

“You’ve been so good f’me, Leon. So pretty ‘nd obedient. I think you deserved to come,” you whisper back to him, gripping his length once more and pumping him slowly. Your words are almost enough to make him come undone into an incoherent mess, and when you squeeze the tip of his cock, his soft tummy clenches as ropes of his thick cum spurt out his overtly sensitive dick onto his chest.

Peppering his face with kisses, you mumble soft praises as you take care of him.

“You’re such a good boy for me, baby. I love you s’much.”

[weskie]

O Captain, My Captain! (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | 2100 words, dubcon, gunpoint blow job, sex fantasies, gender neutral reader, wesker being a little shit but somehow still a lil soft | Fic Directory

original request

You always were his favorite.  So smart and perceptive, sharp and witty.  Of course you would be the one to find him first.  It almost pained him to devastate you in such a way.  To see the way your face fell when those words left his mouth.

“I’ve always been with Umbrella.”

The way you whispered his title in disbelief when he pointed his gun at you was… perplexing.  He figured you’d have one of your usual wise-cracks to chuck at him.  Instead you–

“I trusted you, I–” You quiver, staring down the barrel that could spell your undoing in a mere flash. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the tank containing the Tyrant.  “Please don’t kill me…” 

Beautiful, isn’t it?  Wesker thinks to himself.  He wonders what you must think of his good work.  What you must think of everything.  

Deep down, he doesn’t want to do this. In fact, it had been his plan to grab you before death could take you in some twisted form or another.  You were the only one he wasn’t keen to place in this experiment.  He fully intended to run off with you in his arms, play the hero, whisk you away to safety and maybe finally allow some of his affections free to make an attempt at something more.  You weren’t supposed to find him.

You’ve certainly dashed his plans.  So what now?  

“I’ll do anything!”

Of that, he’s certain.  Most people staring down the barrel of a gun would say the same.  Perhaps…

Now that’s a thought.

“Anything?”  He asks with a cock of his head.  “And just what could you do for me, my dear?”  The corner of his mouth twitches in a small smirk as the term of endearment hits you.  He saunters forward, handgun still trained on you.  Little do you know he’d clicked the safety on before raising it toward you to begin with.

It’s precious how you shiver under his gaze.  Like you know exactly what he’s thinking, or you’re at least partly aware of it.  

This situation has obviously ruined his plans to pursue you once the dust had settled.  Perhaps he should take what he can get now while he’s got the opportunity.  Sure there’s terror in your eyes, but he’s seen the way you looked at him before.  The glint in your gaze, the pining glances and shy smiles.  Wesker was no fool.

But he is an opportunist.

“I don’t kno–”

“Oh, but I think you do.” He purrs, pressing the muzzle under your chin to force you to look right into his eyes.  He glides his thumb across your lower lip, tongue peaking out to wet his own.  “Ah, ah… Don’t squirm.  You wouldn’t want my finger to slip, would you?”  It isn’t even on the trigger.  He smiles sweetly as you take a breath to still yourself.  “That’s it, sweetheart.  Very good.”

You’re adorable like this.  Eyes wide, lower lip quivering beneath the pad of his thumb.  Wesker leans forward until his lips are next to your ear.

“I want you on your knees, my dear.  Think of it like a new training exercise– just you and me.”  His breaths fan against the shell of your ear, words shocking your eyes even wider.  He can hear you gulp in anticipation before you start to descend.  “Show your Captain what you can do, hm?” The sight alone has him twitching in his pants.  He’d never admit to the overflowing excitement in watching you kneel before him, knowing full well he was about to have you in a way he’s only dreamt of.  God, the thoughts he’s had of you– the way he’s come apart at mere fantasies all because of you…

His breath stutters as you work him free from his pants, halting entirely when you grasp his cock and stroke.  He can feel the tremble in your grip, so he smooths his free hand through your hair to coax you to relax.  He nudges you forward gently. 

He knows you can’t see his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, but he almost wishes you could.  If you could only see the exhilaration in his eyes coupled with the lack of genuine hostility, maybe you wouldn’t be so afraid of the gun in his right hand.  Maybe you’d know it was all for show to keep you from getting any bright ideas.  And fuck, he could’ve dropped the damned thing the second your tongue grazed the underside of his tip.  It’s been so long since he’s been touched by another; he never has the time to even consider it with his double-triple-agent life. It’s almost embarrassing how sensitive he is to the warm wetness of your tongue.

But he needs more.

His fingers curl in your hair to pull you nearer– his signal for you to open wide and take him. He releases a shuddering breath when your lips wrap around him, descending nice and slow.  The sensation of you sucking him is simply beyond words, completely and utterly tantalizing in the way it combines with the hot drag of your tongue.

A soft moan works past his lips when that pesky gag reflex of yours makes your throat clamp deliciously around him.  He doesn’t let you pull off.  He can’t drop the facade quite yet– can’t be too gentle lest you get any stupid ideas.

“Ah, ah… Hold it.”  He breathes, fingers gripping tighter in your hair, pushing your head down.  “That’s it, dear…”  For all of your sputtering below, you manage to resist the need to release him by the time he finally jerks you back.  

He gives you a minute to gasp desperately before pressing the gun to your temple. Your eyes flutter open as if you'd forgotten the lingering threat.  Your pupils are blown and the way you squirm is all too obvious.

He knew you'd like this. 

Somewhere, deep past that layer of fear, there was a part of you so aroused by this that you couldn’t help but let it affect you.  Maybe, with his cock down your throat, you realized that this was what you’d always wanted too.  That all those sweet little looks you’d hide when he’d turn your way weren’t for nothing.  That your lust for your Captain was coming to fruition in an unorthodox way that was still just as delicious as whatever sinful thoughts you’ve kept of him all this time.

“I'm impressed. But you can do better for me, can’t you?”  Wesker’s eyes roll when you dive back in of your own accord, suckling and swirling the tip in a way that screams more than mere survival instinct.  It takes no time at all for him to give in and start with slow thrusts into your mouth.  Paired with the way he controls the bobbing of your head makes it truly like heaven itself.  Wesker could damn well forget everything– where he was, all that had happened, even the Tyrant mere feet away meant nothing right now.  Your little gags and chokes around his shaft ring like music to his ears, drowning out the hum of machinery preserving his subject, echoing in his mind to wash away every scream he’s heard since this mission began.

There’s just this.

Just you and him.

“That’s– mmh, that’s it!”  Wesker’s breaths grow heavier by the second and he presses the muzzle harder to your temple, wordlessly demanding that you keep up with those wicked glides of your tongue, keep swallowing his cock, keep fucking taking him.

His mask begins to slip with every weakening moan that was never meant to make it past his lips until finally– fucking finally– he holsters that damned gun and grips your head with his other hand, hips rolling until that familiar tightening sensation grows and grows and your name chokes breathlessly from his lips.  With one last sharp thrust, Wesker buries himself to the base, hands pulling your face flush to his groin as he paints your throat with his release.  His thighs quake and he can just barely register your hands grasping to still him.

He tries so hard to be quiet and maintain that perfect decorum of his, but it’s useless to try.  Not when he’s balls deep in your mouth, not when he knows he’s claimed you from the inside out.  He’s thought of this too many times.  Of how he’d have loved to have you on your knees under his desk back in his office.  You’d suck him just as sweetly as you’ve done now, one hand stroking the base of his cock while the other smooths up and down his leg.  He’d let you get him close– so fucking close. He’d let you get him right on the brink of losing himself and then kick away in his swivel chair and fuck you senseless on the desk.  He wouldn’t even care if the rest of the team could hear the sweet sounds you sing for him.  He’d fill you over and over again until his come leaks from you.  He’d kneel down and eat you clean just so he could fill you all over again.

Every fantasy flashes in his mind as the throbbing bliss tapers away.  This absolutely cannot be the last time he has you.  

It won’t be.

Wesker pulls out slowly, staring down intently to watch every inch slip free.  His thumbs wipe away at your tear tracks before kneeling to your level.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”  He asks as if he hadn’t just put you in an impossible situation and made you think your only way out was to let him fuck your mouth.  He smiles at you, though, try as he might, he can’t quite manage that same wicked smirk he’d given you earlier.  The facade has faded, and he’s back to the same old Captain Wesker who used to hide his smiles at your quips.  The same one who now feels the tiniest pang of guilt at how spooked and used you look.

There's one last thing he needs from this moment. He couldn't possibly let it pass him by knowing he may never have the chance again. And, if he's lucky, you'll understand every unspoken word. 

Wesker leans forward, hands cupping your face to bring you into a kiss that was far from the depravity he'd shown you mere moments ago. Your squeak of shock is swallowed by him, and it's the perfect opportunity to wiggle his tongue into your mouth and explore to his heart's content– pleased to no end when you reciprocate.

“You've always been,” he pants between wet pecks to your lips, “my favorite of the bunch.”  One of your arms loops around his neck, and that’s when it hits him.

Cold steel presses beneath his jaw and he smiles against you, proud beyond measure that you'd pulled one over on him so easily. 

“Still trust me?”  He asks.

“Should I?”  You counter, panting softly against him.  He can see the way doubt blends with belief.  You’re the picture perfect specimen of indecision and he would just love to see your reaction to this…

“Go on.  Pull.”  Wesker murmurs. “Trust your Captain.”

When you make not even so much as a twitch to flinch from what you’d expect to be an exceptionally loud mess, he grasps your hand, finger creeping over yours to direct it onto the trigger.

How peculiar that, much like he’d done, you hadn’t even put it on there.

You look at him with wide eyes for the hundredth time since you found him, suddenly looking much more terrified than when he’d first aimed it at you.

“Wesker, I–”

Click.

You flinch for nothing, and Wesker simply gives you a smug grin as he watches you realize you were never truly in danger.  You run through a variety of emotions.  Anger, betrayal, disbelief, acceptance… 

“What's wrong, my dear?”  Wesker purrs, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.  “You didn’t think I’d actually kill you, did you?”

The look on your face elicits a deep, amused chuckle. 

“Foolish.  I suppose you’ll need to be made to understand just how deep my appreciation for you goes, hm?”  With his free hand, he removes his gun from your grasp before pushing you slowly onto your back.  Your chest heaves in anticipation, though you lack that deer-in-the-headlights look from earlier.

Good.

Wesker removes his glasses, placing them on your head to rest against your hair.

“Remember,” he whispers, leaning down to nibble at the side of your neck. “Trust your Captain.”

[evilvvithin]

@margaretoakgrove requested: LORD HEISENBERG resident evil village