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tarantulasnot · 4 months

Text

Okay fine I'm a stalker

Like bad.

But whatever a girl can dream.

Sub! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Stalker! Reader smut lolzzz

Dark content! Stalking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, elements of stockholm syndrome, Leon doesn't ask for help cause he's Mr. Independent so his brain messes with him, reader does come in, Ada mentioned if you squint your eyes like 9999.99999%, Leon just doesn't know wtf too do with himself, my crk account got lost so now I'm torturing Leon

©©©

He was a trained military officer, he had survived countless injuries and perilous situations both willing and unwillingly. Of course he knew there was someone there, at all times.

He went to the store? There was someone there, watching him as he made his purchases. Were you that interested in what he was eating for dinner?

Even when he was eating it, he felt it from somewhere outside of his dining room window. It inspired him to stand up and close the blinds, however it was too late and his appetite was ruined.

Over time he felt it more and more as that strange presence seemed to adjust to his schedule, one he wasn't fully aware he had. Like how he always took the same roads to go to his part-time job, never taking a single detour. Or how he stopped at the same gas station every day to get one of three drinks, always settling on the same one every Wednesday. This was something he didn't notice until you made him notice.

Then you started hitting a little too close to home. Or rather, in his own home.

Whoever you were, you were good at what you did. He would come home to his dishes washed, or maybe his clothes. With a couple of things missing of course.

He thought about calling the police, but who was he kidding? He was the police. He can't just hit up his co-workers about something a trained military officer can't do. Well, maybe one. But she wasn't all that helpful. So, he started doing his own little investigating.

However, the paranoia was so relentless. He couldn't dress without thinking you were there, watching him, maybe not even through human eyes. Cameras maybe? The man couldn't even eat without throwing up because of the anxiety you caused him. Constantly forcing him to imagine what you were planning.

How could Leon be reduced to this? He was a man of power, of status... and yet here he was quaking in his boots over some person who he could probably kill in one swift kick to the temple.

But you weren't physical, you weren't tangible. You weren't something he could pin down and fight. Were you even real?

You seemed to notice him looking into it, and that omnipresent energy seemed to sputter at the knowledge. Like usual though, you had accustomed yourself to it. He had accustomed himself to it too. Maybe, the reason why the energy seemed to shift was because he simply was being paranoid. Maybe it was the trauma from always having his life threatened, maybe it was just his memory going bad.

Or maybe, there was someone out there.

Maybe you didn't want to hurt him at all.

You never seemed to do any harm, whoever you were. In fact, you seemed almost helpful sometimes. Even though it was odd that something he'd mutter under his breath, barely audible, would somehow come to reality- it was still free in the end.

So why was he being so serious about this? It was probably no big deal. Maybe he just needed to relieve some stress, clear his head a little.

But what would that make him? Normal for wanting a little bit of self care, but what about the fact he's doing it with his window wide open, facing the woods he feels like someone's in?

Maybe it was something in him that liked this, liked the danger, the anonymity of the eyes. Maybe he dreamt about it one time, the pretty girl he found out was stalking him was maybe a little too pretty. Maybe she was an ideal, maybe he wanted those keen eyes watching him.

As he sat on the edge of his bed, facing the open window, he could practically feel the inquisitive nature about you. He could feel your gaze on him.

His member strained against his pants. He had refrained from touching himself, from doing just about anything because of the extreme obsession going on within him. But you weren't so much of a stranger anymore. At this point, you had been in his home, in his life- you were a part of him he'd struggled to accept.

But he was accepting it. Maybe he even craved it.

You were so normal to him, so comforting, like a last resort. He really had no one else. His blue eyes fluttered shut and his face bloomed red as he slid his fingertips over the ache he'd been denying. Already the pressure made him sigh, his long lashes resting against his cheek as he teased himself.

What was he doing? This was just to prove that there was no-one there, there was nothing to be afraid of, but what if there was?

He gasped as he heard something outside, and he accidentally squeezed himself in surprise. He'd be lying though if his dick didn't twitch. Jesus... maybe he wanted something to be there- someone? Someone just to prove he wasn't going crazy, he wasn't just imagining things. Why couldn't he make up his mind? He kept thinking to himself as his other hand lifted up under his shirt to pull it up a little.

You were loving the display. His eyes weren't fixed on you, they were above you to the treeline you were crouching in front of. You weren't even in a bush, you were just sitting on the ground in a very black outfit in a very dark forest. You weren't sure what he was doing when he sat on the edge of his bed like that. You almost debated the fact he might just call out to you. He had been investigating you, in fact you helped him. You gave him a false lead on some random girl who had no clue who he was.

How clever. He thought it was some silly girl with a strange obsession for him, he would never suspect his coworker.

His coworker, that's why your fingerprints were on his things. You'd redirected him so many times. When you'd come over, he'd stare outside to the treeline, where you weren't, but usually would be.

But now, you were right in front of him, with his big hand lifting up the black fabric of his tank top- gasping and subconsciously rutting into his hand. Ever so cautious, as Leon pretends to be when he's all alone.

In the safety of his own home.

You teased him, shifting just once, just to test his reaction. It's the best decision you've ever made because the sweet little gasp he makes as he suddenly grips himself is priceless. You'd record him if the stupid light attached wouldn't give you away.

However, he's right back at it. This time, he's panting, and his thighs are twitching.

Leon swears he means to have some shame, or maybe he's pretending because he can't seem to rip his pants off fast enough. He grabs the lotion beside him and puts it on his hand. God, the slut even puts on a show. Dragging his calloused hands over his thighs before he reaches his aching base and he gives it a light squeeze, bobbing it in the air. Teasing you.

Or what he believes to be that girl from Kansas. "F-fuck..." After having no contact for so long has him laying on his back now. He pumps himself slowly, small strokes to get him fully hard before he starts to speed up a little bit. The cold air blowing through the window reminds him of how exposed he is right now, and the thought makes his fist move faster. His other hand comes up to swipe his thumb over the tip, forcing a huff from himself. God it feels Soo good- so good!

He hopes someone is watching now, or he did all of this for nothing. All this worrying, all these late nights looking around his room, all this whining against his palm as his hips jump into his own fist. his knees rub together as his back arches. His muscles flex as he furiously strokes himself, his eyes rolling back in his head while he tries not to cry.

He's so humiliated, but it turns him on so fucking much. He wants to be seen, noticed. He loves this-

And you know he does, you know he's in his own little world. Because you're leaning against his house now, just under his windowsill as he cries and whines, too conflicted but so overwhelmed with pleasure. He's so overwhelmed in general.

His knees tap against each other as his hand leaves his lips to accompany his other palm on his member, stroking in two different directions. The squelch fills the air as he becomes louder, heaving and groaning furiously as he gives himself what he's been denying for so long. Yet, you tease him one more time. You make yourself openly known for the first time. You knock on the side of his house.

The sound sends a frigid chill down his spine, but it's replaced by a searing hot heat. Someone was watching him pump himself to the thought of a stalker. But he realized he loved it- he loved everything- it slammed him over the edge and his eyes roll back into his skull. The coil in his stomach bursting into a climax with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh FUCK!! 'm cummingg!!! I'm cummin- f-fuhuhhhck!" He's sobbing as wave after wave of his orgasm slams into him, his hand is squeezing himself and the sheets for some sort of purchase to cope with the way he's practically screaming. "Ohhhh- mnh! FUCK! can't stohp-!" God, he wails like a fucking bitch. His back is arching off the bed and he explodes into his own hand, he's terrified but fuck, fuck, fuck he's cumming, and he's cumming hard. His cock pulses as the ropes of cum spew out like some dumb teenager. Fuck you're right there- you're watching him- he should be hiding, calling someone-

"Please!" He cries, and you know what he wants.

You both know what he wants, even if he doesn't admit it out loud.

So he closes his eyes, and he hears your footsteps. He's covered in his own cum, he's whining and crying- all he's saying is please over and over again, his body twitching with every footstep. Pleading you to leave him alone? To not look? To touch him? Fuck if he knows, he just wants something from you, but his brain's all fucked up from the months of psychological torment.

You're on your knees now, and he's basically hyperventilating. You take his sensitive shaft into your hand, and you lick the underside. The lotion makes your tongue buzz, but you dont care. Lotion is temporary, having a braindead Leon is forever.

LOL IM THE KING OF UNFINISHED FICS!!!

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