#Leon is a pathetic puppy dog of a man

[ovaryacted]

Probably not at all what you want but .... kink shaming leon for his mommy kink But you are actually into it too. He doesn't know it just yet, you just like to tease him and make him flustered. You two would be making out, and he just slipped it and you were going along like "yeah? you like when mommy does this" but then suddenly you're like

"god, Leon, what a sick pervert you are" you'd say and he'd be with wide eyes like he just fucked up entirely, "is this mommy shit really turning you on? that's disgusting" then he'd say he's sorry and tell you to just drop it but you'd keep teasing him to the point he thinks you're being mean and just making fun of him. "Aw, you don't like when mommy teases you?" Well eventually you'll tell him that you think being called mommy is hot too

He gets off being when he's humiliated too, that's why even though you were being oh so mean he came like he's been saving it for weeks

cw: suggestive smutty content.

Hey anon! Thank you for the message!! So this technically wasn’t what I meant, but I don’t mind it either way! This is like if kinkshaming becomes your kink LMAO (I relate), but I’ll entertain you for a bit cause I’m down with this.

It’s like you’re both in denial of the fact something like this would turn either of you on. For Leon, he just revealed one of his deepest secrets, not knowing how you’d react to hearing him call you a name that’s considered taboo in a sexual context. He doesn’t watch porn much, but he’s not an idiot, he knows there’s videos out there depicting exactly what he’s imagining in the back of his mind. He’s just a bit too pussy to admit outright that he wants something else in the bedroom, something only you can provide.

On the other hand, you get your chance at challenging the roles in the bedroom. You’ve already been hinting that you wanted that dominance, wanted to take control over Leon and he’s been letting you. Thing is, there wasn’t a title that really fit your role, mistress was too harsh and ma’am was what Leon would usually correlate with you anyway so you wanted something new.

You didn’t have an honorific established yet, so it takes you off guard when he calls you mommy by accident while you’re kissing him so passionately and gently tugging on his hair. You couldn't ignore the shiver that went down your spine, the way your lips curled up in a grin at the sudden revelation from Leon. You didn’t let him backdown from his confession either, nor did you immediately give him what he wanted. Playing along, you decided to tease him about it.

“Mommy huh? That’s what you think of me?”, you said against his lips, caressing his chest from your spot on his lap.

“That’s not what I meant…”, Leon can’t find the words to explain himself properly, but his eyes said it all. He liked this shit.

“No, you know what you meant. I didn’t know you were such a pervert Leon”, his cheeks reddened the more embarrassed he got, but the growing bulge in his jeans told you otherwise.

“What? Don’t you want to play with mommy?”, now that got a rise out of him. The way you easily fit into the role he needed you to be no questions asked made his body pulse.

“You don’t have to hide from me baby, mommy likes this too”, you whispered into his ear, biting at his earlobe and pulling a pathetic whimper out of his mouth.

“Really?”, he asked you, voice shaky as he spoke. The desperation in his body language was almost comical, and you couldn’t wipe the smirk off of your face even if you tried.

“Yeah, really”, you watched his eyes grow hazy, going from clear crystalline blue to a misty cobalt. He was not expecting your reciprocation, much less how effortless it was for you to adapt into this persona.

You indulge him, a mixture of shame and acceptance intertwined as you enrapture him in the newfound dynamic. Things change for the better between you two, and you now hold the title Leon wanted you to have from the very beginning.

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

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warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

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Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

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divider by: @/floriseu

[dollfacefantasy]

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

[fawnsflowerbed]

hi bee!! im back again :3

okok, we know all the hype for hybrid reader, but what about puppy hybrid leon? i imagine he would be so happy to see you come home from work and start pawing and jumping on you 💔

- 🧠

UGH DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTEDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!

Puppy Leon is EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!! It's always RE2 - Darkside Chronicles Leon I think of for the puppy posts cause he's more puppy than dog if that makes sense :3

He's such a lap dog!!!! Biggest cuddly baby ever!!!! Huge whiner, has to pad around after you like a lost pup because he needs to know what you're up to!!!! Does the little circles at the bottom of your bed before slowly crawling his way up inch by inch to stare at you until you pull back the covers so he can climb in <3

HE IS A SHELTER. DOG. I TAKE THAT TO MY GRAVE. YOU GOT THAT SWEET MAN AT A SHELTER OR FOUND HIM CURLED UP AT YOUR DOORSTEP. HE SHINED HIS BIG OL' WET PATHETIC EYES AT YOU AND YOU C A V E D !!!!!!

AND YES THE JUMPING!!! He hears you get home and his feet and skittering across the floor almost sliding as he yaps and paws at the door for dear life, greeting you with rushed words of 'You're back!' 'Hi!' 'I missed you!' 'How was today?' 'Do you need help carrying that?' 'Hi owner!' 'I was good today!' 'Did you miss me?' Yappy little man you own my HEART!!!

He HATES the vacuum cleaner, bites at the air around it with perked up floppy ears and furrowed eyebrows. He LOVES tug of war and fetch, and grumbles during bath time until it gets to the scrubbing and soaping part cause then his foot is tapping when you scratch a good spot behind his ear or on his scalp all gentle!!!!

[ghosty-writes-23]

Personal Headcanons. - Leon S Kennedy Part. 2

!WARNINGS!: Slightly NSFW

Ghosty's Notes: Hello, here is the winner from the poll last week, I tired to do something a little different and hopefully none of the headcanons sound similar, I have tried to make these as gender neutral as possible so hopefully everybody can enjoy these, I also wanted to thank you for the love and support for the first part, I didn't think it would get as much love and attention as it did but I am truly grateful nonetheless.

!These headcanon's are just my opinion and are just for fun and to not be taken seriously!

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

SFW

Will teach you self defense when he isn't on missions.

Awkward comfort king.

Cheesy pickups when you first meet.

Your one of the few people he can be himself around.

Gets slightly more clingy after missions, especially after ones that are more mentally taxing.

Melts when he sees you wearing his clothing.

the prefect man to meet your parents, he maybe a little awkward at first but they will love him by the end of the night.

Craves more of a simple easy domestic relationship, rather then a hot steamy one night stand.

Doesn't get jealous easily, he is confident in your relationship, even tho sometimes he does wonder why you picked him in the first place.

has won you a teddy bear on a carnival date, that you named Leon because the stuffed bear kind of resembled your boyfriend, with soft fluffy blonde fur and cute puppy dog eyes.

NSFW - Dom Edition.

Pleasure Dom.

!CONSENT KING!, Always asking if your alright with something, or always asking for your consent because your safety and pleasure is his number one priority.

Your his perfect little doll.

Will choke you with either his hands (With his gloves on) or bicep if asked beg nicely.

Uses your body as a stress releaser.

Leaves bruises in places that can be seen, to show people your taken.

Loves taking pictures when your a mess, even keeps a polaroid in his wallet for when he goes on missions.

Younger Leon isn't that much into degrading, but as he gets older and more confident in your relationship, god help you with the flithy things this man will say to you or call you.

Loves touching, teasing you or even fucking you in risky places, in public, In bar/club bathrooms, your parents place, his office at the RPD.

Isn't done with you until either your a mess, drool everywhere, your brain like a marshmallow on the thoughts of him in your head, maybe even crying if he is feeling extra mean, or he says so, because your will be good for your boyfriend Leon won't you?

NSFW - Sub Edition.

Will be a perfect dumb loyal little puppy for his Mistress/Master.

Loves it when you use him for your own pleasure, Mark him up, Bite him, Scratch him, Bruise him, Tug on his hair, Mess him up, Just use him.

Can cum untouched if you just praise him, calling him your best baby boy, your favourite puppy.

Always wanting to be pretty for you, with cute collars and leashes, new toys and even some lingerie sets.

Loves sending you videos or pictures of him touching himself, or shaking his hips while he bounces on the new toy you recently brought him just moaning/whining your name while your at work, being the needy pathetic puppy he is, always wanting your attention. "Please Master/Mistress pay attention to me."

If you leave marks on him, he will show them proudly especially at work.

loves being loud, letting everybody know how good his Mistress/Master is making him feel, this has lead to you either gagging him, or placing your hand over his mouth.

Will try to use his adorable baby blue puppy dog eyes to get out of punishments, when he knows he is in the wrong.

whines and cries when he gets overstimulated, his voice cracks but he will still look at you with heart eyes nonetheless.

-----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Growing Pains CH3 (MWC Day 9!)

Pairing: RE2 Leon Kennedy x Male(Intended) Reader Summary: College AU! You suck hard at feelings and everyone's just along for the ride. Words: 1,425/200 Warnings: Cursing, a little angst, brief mentions of weed Notes: It feels too soft to be angsty, in my opinion at least.

Navigation | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

With how often you wake up these days, still tired no matter what you do and depressed, you wonder if a doctor would diagnose you with chronic neuroticism. Maybe if you played your cards right you could get a medical marijuana card and live the rest of your days as a carefree stoner, You stand in your kitchenette, in your underwear, with a piece of burnt toast hanging out of your mouth as you listen to Luis’ muffled voice through the thin wall. You can't make out who he is talking to nor what he’s talking about but from the sound of his steadily raising voice, you assume it must be pretty important. You shrug it off, telling yourself that it's none of your business. But, as you finish your pathetic breakfast and pull on whatever clean clothes are left in your closet, you can't help but think about the absurdity of it all. 

You sit on your bed and pull on your socks and shoes, ruminating over the past year and a half youve spent at college with the man have you ever heard him sound like that, much less talk to another human being in that manner. You listen closer, stopping everything as his voice sounds again, hoping to make out even a snippet of the conversation. He's talking fast in an angry or frustrated tone, his voice pitched up to convey that to whoever he's yelling at, part of you (the insane part) wants to stop by and check on him, maybe he needs your help. But the rational part of your brain reasons that it's most definitely not a good idea, so you give him his privacy and continue on with your routine, making it out of your door in record time. On reflex you pass by the elevator about to take the stairs only for you to stop and look back over, the caution tape that you were beginning to think was just a part of the elevator was gone, ripped off, and tucked carelessly into the trashcan in the hallway. As you mull over whether to take the elevator or not you read the note from your landlord, his messy scrawl beckoning you into the elevator with promises that it's going to stay fixed. 

You highly doubt it, the guy’s a complete deadbeat and the elevator is much more worse off––you remember moving in and using the elevator for the first time, you’d nearly had a panic attack from the abhorrent state it was in. You chuckle to yourself, cringing a little looking back on how you acted, pulling out your own pen, you scribble ‘use with extreme caution’ on the bottom corner of the note and underline it a few times. You tuck the pen safely back into your pocket where you’ll probably forget about it, you step away from the elevator, resuming your path to work, and the elevator dings just as you set your hand on the door to the stairwell. You turn the knob and Claire walks out of the elevator with the guy, who you’ve come to know as Leon, in tow behind her. They dont notice you at first as Claire storms to Luis’ door, Leon lingers awkwardly behind as Claire pounds on his door looking angry. You’re just about to slip silently into the stairwell when Leon catches your eye, he brightens up and smiles widely upon seeing you, looking like a love-stricken puppy dog. 

It's odd, seeing someone look at you like that and it puts you on edge, you’re unable to picture how he could look at you like that––or how any normal person could look at someone like you that way. Anxiety rises like bile in your throat but you swallow it down and school your expression, trying to keep cool and unbothered. You gesture to Claire and hold your finger to your lips, not wanting to get dragged into whatever drama they're stirring up––Leon's smile turns into an ‘oh!’ expression and he nods smiling as he repeats your gesture, pressing his finger to his lips then making an okay sign with his hand. With that, you slip into the stairwell unnoticed, just as you hurry down to the first landing the door opens behind you. You look back up at where you came from to see Leon stood awkwardly by the door, he closes it and clears his throat like he's trying to find the words he wants to say. 

Bile bubbles anxiously in your stomach as he descends the stairs looking like a kicked puppy, he stops at the third step up from you and takes a deep breath, “uh… i- um.” He fumbles his words, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He clears his throat before trying again; “I…” He starts slowly, dragging the syllable out like it's going to help him speak, the stairwell is quiet enough that you can almost hear his throat click when he swallows. “I was- w- uh… wondering when-” His nerves are infectious, jumping over to you like fleas. His eyes move away from your face to look at some scuff mark on the ground “w- when you were off w- um- work next?” He chews on his lip anxiously and you relax, tension floods out of your body so fast you dont catch your smile until his body language eases and his face softens up. “Uhhhh?– tomorrow or Monday probably.” You shrug, hoping if you acted unbothered the lingering nerves would settle, “I work, like, every day but I dont have any classes Sunday. Monday Uh-” The hesitation coming out as a sigh as you think. 

“I work in the morning and I think I have two classes in the afternoon.” That feels right and you nod, he eases up more and smiles sweetly. As you look at him, you notice what you think are dimples on his cheeks. “Okay, I guess I'll text you, then?” You physically have to stop yourself from swooning, dimples were your weak point. You bite your lip hard and nod, turning to resume walking down the stairs, “See ya’ then.” You force yourself to sound casual and not trip over your feet as you walk away, you hear him agree but you dont look back. Once you make it to the third landing for the floor below you, you hear Leon ascend the stairs and leave the stairwell. 

You slump down against the wall, sliding all of the way down to the floor as you exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding. You don’t even get a minute to yourself as you hear the rowdy teens that plague your building snicker, you shoot up onto your feet and peek over the edge to see the three boys sat two landings below you with cigarettes and cans of cheap (probably stolen) beer littered around them. “He’s so in love with you~” The middle one teases, the one to his left snickers, and the other one makes kissing noises. You roll your eyes, maintaining a cool facade as the thought settles in your head, you descend the stairs and without stopping you snatch the middle one's cigarette and bring it to your lips. “You better get the hell outta here before I get your dad.” You scoff and take a long drag from the cigarette before flicking it at their feet, the boys’ eyes go wide, they know you’ll make good on your word having already done it once before. 

They scramble for their belongings and take off back through the door, leaving their empty cans littered on the ground. You press your palms to your eyes and groan tiredly, not ready to unpack the idea that Leon might genuinely be in love with you, instead of just harboring some hopeless puppy crush that he'd be over in a week like you’d hoped. Of course, you found him cute, he was cute and maybe in a perfect world you’d consider something like that but now? You pull your hands from your eyes, ignoring the shapes and bursts of color that decorate your vision to scowl down at your hands. Leon was ungodly sweet and smarter than people gave him credit for, and he was awkward in the most endearing way, You groan again and scrub your hands down your face. 

This was not what you wanted to be thinking about, and with that last thought you resume your walk to work praying to whatever god listening to give you just one moment of peace.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A/N; this was a little harder to get out today so I apologize for the lack of words.

[captain-mj]

Maybe someone already asked you but could we please have a part 3 of the korangi Mafia Au ?

I adore how you write König's character and I need to know what happend after the car "incident". They are both freaking adorable!

I did not realize how long ago I wrote that?? My bad y'all!! Part 2

König made a motion outside so a guard would clear the area. He helped Horangi sit up, seeing his bruised and bitten he was. Horangi looked soft and sweet on the cushions, but König needed to get him out of the car and inside.

The guard he had gotten the attention of earlier came back once they stepped inside and König ordered him to bring them a robe and something for Horangi to drink. He wrapped the robe around him and made him drink the juice the man brought.

“König, don’t ever do this to me again. What if someone heard me??” Horangi moaned and complained, shielding his face with his hands. König’s arms were so warm around him as he scooped him up to take him inside.

“Alright…. I do apologize, liebling.” König did not sound very apologetic. He patted his head and brought him inside the house. He passed Horangi’s bedroom and to his own, laying him among his sheets. Horangi looked up at him. His dark eyes were striking against the red of König’s sheets. The scars Horangi loathed only made his face more gorgeous to him.

Horangi flushed and looked away. “I need to get cleaned up. And back to my room.”

“In a moment.” König ordered as he kept looking at him. “I love this view. I need to hire someone to paint you.”

Horangi blushed and looked away. “I do not wish to be painted.”

König kissed him hard and licked into his mouth. He pinned his wrists above his head.

Horangi bit him. “No. I went twice already.”

König pouted but let go. He cuddled him instead, pulling him to his chest.

Horangi’s body ached as he panted. His legs were sore from the position in the car and his back ached. But more than that, he felt empty. He wanted König to shove back in him and keep him stretched out but instead of saying that, he just breathed and tried to push down how needy he felt.

König kissed his hand gently and squeezed him. “You’re so cute. Been wanting to do that since I saw you cleaned up.” He put his hand on Horangi’s bare chest, over his heart. “Wanted to do much more honestly but you made me so shy.”

Horangi flushed. “How could I make you shy?”

“Quite easily honestly.” König smiled.

Horangi lifted the mask and saw Leon. His shy nurse.

König blushed and immediately looked less sure of himself. He smiled awkwardly and Horangi kissed his cheek. “I see. With your mask on, you’re a big tough guy and without it…”

König huffed. “I’m pathetic.”

“I was going to say handsome ball of anxiety.”

König yanked him closer. “I don’t need the mask to do this.”

Horangi froze in his grip. He flushed. “I… um…”

“Not so confident now, huh little tiger?”

“I…”

“You what? Huh?”

“I think you’re adorable.” Horangi smiled. Yes, König caught him off guard earlier, but he handled men all the time. He was a man himself after all. He wasn’t going to let König get him too flustered.

It made König turn red.

Horangi kissed his cheek and König leaned into him. “You think I’m… adorable?”

“Yep.”

“You’re funny, Horangi.” König nodded. “You’ll make a brilliant bodyguard.”

“I don’t think you need one. You took that guy out before I even blinked.” Horangi grabbed König’s arms, feeling the wiry muscle there.

“Cheetahs when in zoos have to have golden retrievers with them.”

“Why?”

“For their anxiety.” König explained. “Maybe bodyguard is inaccurate. You’re the retriever that keeps me calm.”

Horangi blushed. “Are you saying I’m a therapy dog?”

“Precisely!” König preened, leaning in and kissing Horangi’s face. Horangi reluctantly let him continue. He had such a pretty face and giant puppy dog eyes and it was hard for Horangi to say no to him. “You’re going to be here for when I’m freaking out or need support.”

“How about instead of me being your therapy dog, it’s like the buddy system?”

König shrugged. “If you’d prefer. You just need to go out with me when I leave. You’re not going to be paid the first six months, that’s how long it’ll take you to pay off your debt. But you can stay here and I’ll give you money if we’re going some place public.”

Horangi didn’t point out that was still technically getting paid. “After the six months I can go?” Perfect. An end date. Kept things nice and clean for him. Six months in, he’d probably be bored of the situation anyway.

König laughed. “Depends on how well you do your job! If it’s good, we’ll talk.”

“What happens if its bad?” Maybe he could just get fired.

“I’ll slit your throat.” König smiled. He tugged his hood and it recovered his face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, ja?”

Horangi nodded. “Yeah.” Firing was not an option then. Not an option at all.

Would König actually kill him?

Horangi did his best. During every meeting, he stood right behind König, sure to look as menacing as possible. He practiced shooting and once he found out where the home gym was, he started working out more. It was partially out of boredom as König always had some paperwork to do or calls to make. The man always dreaded them even more than Horangi but he would have to handle that fight alone.

Right now, Horangi was checking out his scars in the bigger mirror in the bathroom. It was three of them at an angle so he could get a good look at himself.

They were ugly. Raised and gnarled looking things. Thanks to König’s care, they were not as bad as they could be, but they were undeniably bad. He traced his fingers over him before noticing the tall and dark shadow over the mirror.

“Hello, König.” Horangi smiled and went to turn around to look at him. König grabbed him tight though, looking at his body using the mirrors. The sheer want in his eyes threw Horangi off. It was too intense. Too hungry for him. He shivered and looked away, but his only options were himself or König.

König stepped closer. “You look stunning.”

Horangi shook his head but he was used to König’s eclectic taste by now. The man loved the way he looked for some reason.

König pushed him front first against the mirror. He looked at Horangi for a moment, just… watching. Viewing him and appreciating every little detail.

Horangi shuddered and closed his eyes. “Perv.”

König sank to his knees. “I appreciate the finer things in life.”

“I am most definitely not one of the finer things.” Horangi protested before he felt König’s hands on his waist. He started to kiss down his back and Horangi kept his eyes closed to hide from his reflection.

“I should fuck you here more often. Give me a good view of you.”

Horangi groaned. “Don’t you get a good enough view of me all the time?? You’re constantly staring.” He couldn’t deny that he liked the adoration though. Especially when he was letting König do what he wanted.

König pulled Horangi’s pants down slowly, taking his time. He trailed his fingers up his thighs and grabbed his hips. “Pretty boy. I want to take pictures. I want to capture you forever.” His mouth was sinful. Horangi stayed still as he felt him mouth at His inner thighs, tongue flicking out to lick along one of his scars.

“I’m nothing special.”

König bit him and flipped him around, yanking his underwear down. He grabbed Horangi’s legs and put them over his shoulders. “You’re special to me. My tiger.” He lifted his hood and covered what he was doing. Horangi tried to find something to grip but the mirror was too slippery, the only thing keeping him in place were König’s broad shoulders and his back being pressed against the mirror.

König’s Mouth wasn’t sinful. It was heavenly. Horangi squirmed as he felt his mouth on his cock, getting the sense that he was being devoured. Pleasure sparked through him and he couldn’t help but squirm. König didn’t budge, just started to Bob his head. One of his hands let go of Horangi to palm himself and it was like he got more pleasure out of this than Horangi did.

Horangi saw himself in the mirror, disheveled and mouth open. He looked down instead, focusing on the blue eyes that were staring into him. He felt König swallowing around him and his head fell back with a moan.

“You feel so good…” Horangi praised him, reaching under his hood to grab his hair.

König moaned and Horangi closed his eyes. The vibrations made their way up his spine and down to his toes.

Horangi came with a small groan but König didn’t stop. He could vaguely hear the sound of König stroking himself as he kept sucking.

König pulled off with a small groan and buried his face in Horangi’s tummy. “Much better. You’re perfect for stress relief.”

“I’m glad. I’m your buddy after all.” Horangi mumbled, tugging his hair a little.

[icollectyoursins]

Holy shiiiiiiit! Asnsks, I love your blog! Thank you for this amazing content! 😍❤️ Could I please request an Abbacchio x fem! Reader, where she tries to convince him to role play as a police officer for her? Thank yooou! (also, I'm sorry for my terrible English) 💮

No, absolutely I can write that! I have no idea how to do role play (which, you would think as someone training to be an actor, I would, but I just don’t get it.) However, I also said I didn’t see the point of liking Kira and after writing that I discovered so many things about myself. I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me, ahah.

Update as of finished writting: This awakened something in me, hence the length. Oops.

You may have bitten off more than you can chew with asking Leone Abbacchio to dabble in robber/cop role play. Your fantasy has become a reality, however you’re starting to think the power is getting to his head (in the best way possibly, of course).

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Role play (obviously), handcuffs, man-handling, fingering, making the reader taste their own uh... juices?? (I don’t know what to call it), spanking, dildos (not masturbation, but used on reader, I just can’t remember what it’s called), rough sex, cream pie.

Word Count: 1794

Oh, dear.

     “Oh, come on! It could be fun,” you wrapped your arms around Abbacchio’s waist, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Trying to convince him to role play with you was proving harder than expected. He was more than apprehensive to indulge in your fantasy, but the look in your eyes and the sway of your hips had him weak, only one more word away from breaking to your will. “What could go wrong? Me, in handcuffs, helpless. You could do whatever you wanted.”

     He huffed, looking away from you, clearly blushing. You would look so good bare in front of him, hands behind your back, ass red from smacking it so much. He could already feel something churning in him. “Fine.”

     Your face lit up at your victory, standing up on your toes to peck him on the lips. “But, no clothes.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I’m going out, I want you to be here. All day. No clothes. Try not to do anything suspicious.”

     Oh... oh, no. Warmth spread through your core as well as on your face as you nodded, grinning. 

-----------

     True to your word, you spent the entire day after that wearing nothing, opting to spend most of the time under a blanket until he sent you a message saying he was on his way. At that point, you walked around the house, putting things out of place, hiding things, you know, normal criminal stuff.

     You were in the kitchen when he gets home. The minute he steps in, you can feel energy change in the air. It’s serious all of the sudden, sending excitement down your spine. There was no mistaking, he’s going to be hunting your ass (possibly quite literally). In a spur of the moment decision, you hide behind one of the walls so you’re out of view. You can hear his footsteps as they walk into the living room, away from you. A breath of relief rushes through you, but you can’t help shaking, whether it was the cold or excitement, you don’t know, but you hoped he couldn’t hear you.

     Abbacchio looked around his living room, noticing little bits and bobbles missing. Whoever “broke in” to his house left the valuables, thank god, at least in this room, perhaps he should check in the kitchen? Soft, slow footsteps made their way towards your hiding place. You couldn’t help shyly covering yourself when you heard him round the corner, stopping at the entrance.

     He knew were there, but just to tease you; make you wait, he looked the other way towards the window. Hands in pockets, he walked over to it, closing the curtains. It doesn’t take long to notice the clinking of metal on his hips as well as the shine. Handcuffs, proper handcuffs. You also noticed the bag hanging off his hand. From what you could make out in the plastic, there was something very long and very pink.

     Leone hears a shift behind him, then turns around to see what made it. The sight he saw would have knocked any other man onto his knees. He knew better. A woman he had never met standing in his kitchen completely bare. She hadn’t even had the decency to properly cover her tits. He narrows his eyes, sighing.

     There was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel so small and afraid. You broke into a run, turning around the corner and up the stairs, holding your breasts so they wouldn’t slap. God knows that is the last need you needed. A sore chest from-

     Hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into something solid, then pinning you against the wall. You’d only made it to the bottom of the stairs when he caught you. He placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, snatching one of your hands, twisting it behind you. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan as he growls in your ear.

     “You’ve got some nerve,” he trailed a hand across your back, down your side and then to the front of your crotch, lightly teasing the outside of your lips. “Were your hoping I wouldn’t be home? Thought you could take what you wanted and then leave, thief?”

     “I’m not a-”

     “Don’t deny it. Do you know who I am?” Abbacchio presses into you, lips brushing against the crook of your neck.

     “N-no.”

     “So, you don’t know you’re stealing from an officer? And poorly, at that.”

     “Uh-no.”

     “Tch, pathetic. What? Did you decide to get off while you were here? Thought you’d have time?”

     “This is an abuse of power,” you say shakily. He laughs lowly.

     “No. This is an abuse of power,” he grabs your other hand, pinning them to your lower back. You hear the clinking of metal and then a cold around your wrist. Instinctively, you tried to move; to escape, but he was too strong, pushing harder into you as a warning. You’re trapped now, there was no way to get out of this. What was your safe word again?

     Leone’s hand returns to your vagina, from the other side this time, groping your ass cheek on the way down. You hadn’t even realized how wet you were until you heard the squelch of his finger pressing into you lightly. He chuckles again, pulling his finger back, putting it in his mouth. He hums at the taste. 

     “What a tasty thing you are, thief. Is this what you wanted? To be bound and fucked? What a whore.” He turns you around, quickly lifting you up over his shoulder. You kick your legs for a bit, but soon discover that it’s pointless. He’s going to do whatever he wants with you and you fucking love it.

     He walks into the living room, stopping at the arm of your couch, setting you down and then flipping you around, pushing you over it so your ass is in the air. You hear some shuffling behind you, then in mere seconds, his fingers are back on your slick entrance sliding up and down, putting extra attention in to your little bundle of nerves, pushing harder against your clit. Occasionally, he changes the direction, keeping his rough fingers on your bud, swiping back and forth before returning to your wet, needy hole.

     You moan loudly, pushing back against him. Your moan is met with a firm smack against your plush cheeks. Abbacchio wraps his hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back arches. 

     “Do that again,” he growls. You furrow your brows and are about to say something when you feel something large against your entrance. It’s cold, plasticy. He’s not going to-

     Your thought is cut off by the thing pushing into you, making you mewl. The tip goes in, but then he pulls it out, only to push it back in, deeper. The process repeats until what you now know is a long dildo is almost fully in you. Your face is red and your scalp sore from how long he’s been holding you there. He lets go, letting you flop to the soft cushions. 

     He moves to your side, bringing the dildo to your lips. You open your mouth willingly, eyes rolling back at the taste of yourself on it. Abbacchio mumbles something about you being a whore, but you’re not sure, not that you’d mind. At this point, it was well past being confirmed. He smacks your ass again, then gropes it which makes you jerk forward, taking just a little bit more of it in your mouth. His hand continue to come down on your cheeks until they’re red and there’s a visible bulge in your throat. 

     The dildo is removed from your throat far too soon, a string of drool still connects you to it. You pant, barely calling out his name when he walks behind you, tossing the pink thing away. The sound of his clothes coming off is unmistakable. You’re already so out of energy, but there’s something in you that never wants this to end. He rubs his thumb down your slick again.

     “Is this what you wanted, puttana?” You whine, nodding your head. “I better make this worth your while, then, shouldn’t I?”

      You nod again. “Please.”

     You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance. “Please what?”

     “Please~ah. Please fuck meee~” He chuckles darkly, then slams his length into you in one quick motion. You scream, voice cracking. His hands wrap around your handcuffs, using them as a handle while he pounds into you, pulling out completely, then filling you again. Eventually, his thrusts are so powerful that he’s using your own momentum to fuck you. 

     You’re not aware of what you’re saying, but you know words are coming out of your mouth, babbling like an idiot as he fucks out every brain cell you have. Abbacchio hears every word, though. And he loves it.

      “Ah! Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me, please. Oh, don’t stop. God YES, don’t stop! Abbacchio, ~uuuh.~ Leone!” Fuck, he was getting close. All he wanted to do right now was fill your walls with his seed. He groaned. Thinking of our cum dripping out of you drove him insane. He let go of the handcuffs, doubling over you, picking up the pace of his hips.

     The feeling of his cock pounding into your walls over and over and over again quickly drove you over the edge, orgasm washing over you in a white sheet. Your walls spammed down on Abbacchio, clamping down on him tightly, your juices flooding over the side and down his leg sent him flying into his own release, spilling into you. The combined feeling of your cum and his leaking out of you had both of your heads spinning. 

     To him, it was everything he imagined it would be. He pulled out, breathless at the sight, not even realizing he was moaning at it. Your handcuffs were undone, not that you noticed. You were too fucked out at this point. After he briefly cleaned you up with a warm towel, he pulled you into his arms, keeping you close to him while you relaxed on the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

     Guilt started to settle in his chest as he kissed your forehead. 

     “You’re on the pill, right?” He asked, trying to hide his concern.

     “IUD, but yeah. Don’t worry about it.” You felt him relax as you said that. You opened your eyes a crack, then laughed.

     “What?”

     “The curtains were open,” you laughed dreamily. Leone looks over and sure enough, your curtains were wide open and the window was open just a crack.

     “Shit.” He grumbled. He was never going to hear the end of this.

----

Translations:

puttana = slut

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City

I’m a bazillion years late and probably no one cares about my opinions about this movie, but here are my thoughts on the newest movie that I wrote as I watched it. Obviously spoilers ahead.

Plot!

The movie is a mishmash of Resident Evil 1 and Resident Evil 2 with a handful of references from other parts of the franchise. They make it so that the outbreak mostly starts in Raccoon City, but is almost concurrent with Arklay Mountain/Spencer Mansion. In my opinion, this decision makes sense, but doesn’t work well in execution. Some of these things were interesting, like Lisa Trevor making an appearance since I think she gets left out of things a lot even though her story is absolutely heartbreaking.

I also thought it was interesting that the orphanage got woven into the Redfield backstory in a more meaningful way. I knew that Claire and Chris’ parents died, but honestly couldn’t remember when, so this was an interesting way to add in the family.

Raccoon City being a ‘dying’ city at the start of the movie felt weird, but a lot of the locations looked true to the games and ultimately at the end kind of lowers the stakes if it’s a city where most people aren’t even there anymore. All in all the movie ends up feeling rushed and confused in terms of plot. Characters: Jill Valentine Actress is pretty good and could have been great with better writing. Characterization is WEIRD. At one point just seems kind of trigger happy and odd. Also for some reason the only lockpicking in the movie is done by Claire instead of Jill. Like fun referencing the Jill Sandwich shit but like, c’mon. Lockpicking IS one of the main traits of RE1. Why is she dating/in love with Wesker? Leon S Kennedy Why is he a dumbass who can’t shoot his way out of a wet paper bag at first? Why does he only have this job because a favor got pulled in? How fucking loud was his music where he didn’t hear a goddamn truck crash? Headphones were not that fucking good in the 90s, especially not the ones Leon was wearing. He was listening to a goddamn walkman. I need answers. Actor is hot and I’m glad he got to shoot a rocket launcher at Birkin. Chris Redfield Actor’s pretty good I hate that he’s angry with Claire and also a yes man to Umbrella in the beginning. He’s honestly barely in this movie other than being there to kind of sort of rescue Sherry. Claire Redfield Actress is pretty good Hate that she’s at odds with Chris at the beginning. Fine with her being very involved with investigating Umbrella, but mad that they had her just immediately destroy evidence in a fit of rage. She should have said “I told you so”. I’m also not sure how she watched the weird film reel of the Ashford twins pulling wings off a bug and immediately knew experimentation was happening to children. Was there originally other footage that was supposed to be there? Did I miss something gazing at Leon in the background? I’m not rewatching to find out. Albert Wesker Actor is confusing since he just seems like a handsome puppy dog which is kind of the opposite of Albert Wesker. His interactions with Jill, cannot stress this enough, are so weird. His involvement got switched from actively and actually involved with Umbrella to just being tasked to steal the research for money. It feels...wrong. Also, he’s killed by Jill and he uses his final breaths to tell Jill how to escape. Y’all really couldn’t just commit to him being evil, huh? Honestly he just seems kind of pathetic. Congrats on your shitty midcredit scene where he wakes up in a body bag. Boo to you actually needing dumb sunglasses because of the virus. Chief Irons Not creepy enough, especially considering this is a man that was heavily involved in Umbrella and was a goddamn serial killer. Glad he died again. Birkins Not creepy enough and also Annette Birkin just literally doesn’t know what William was doing and then she’s killed by Wesker during the confrontation in the lab. Why the fuck did they do that? Also, William seems to still be an employee and is trying to run off with the G Virus DURING this movie. Seems really rushed. Wesker personally kills William Birkin (who injects himself before he dies) instead of random Umbrella people. Also, he dies IN FRONT of Annette and Sherry. Chris saves Sherry???? His transformation is stupid and looks like shit. He also has no interest in seeking out Sherry while transformed or at least it’s not made clear. Brad Vickers Hey, that’s the guy from Letterkenny. Didn’t expect to see him here as this role. He’s fine. A little bummed his death happens because he was playing snake on his phone. Barry Burton JUST KIDDING. HE’S NOT FUCKING HERE. Honestly so fucking rude.

Marvin Branagh Also not fucking here.

Rebecca Chambers Also not fucking here. I miss you, my favorite child prodigy medic. Ben Bertolucci Actor is fine, I guess Killed by a random zombie in the cell with him instead of a Tyrant. Huge bummer ‘cause his death scene in the game is great. Lisa Trevor I’m glad that the movie didn’t treat her like a villain, since she isn’t one, she’s just tragic, but also they kind of skirt over her story to a point where she might as well not be there. I’d say the actress is good but she’s barely visible through what looks like a weird mask just shoved onto her face. IDK if they mostly ignored the deformities Umbrella gave her or erased them or just did them badly. I also do not understand why she was in the orphanage at all or how Claire was the only person who spotted her. Ada Wong SHE GOT RELEGATED TO A FUCKING MIDCREDIT BONUS SCENE? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Also why does she seem like she’s the one who’s actually in charge of this shit instead of just a complicated morally grey character? The actress looked good though. Overall rating: 3/10 if you’re a fan of Resident Evil. They’re better at recreating imagery with practical effects and referencing shit like the Ashford twins than they are actual story/character components. They’re terrible at CGI. No Tyrants show up, but William Birkin transforms with the G Virus (pretty sure that does not count as a tyrant since it’s not the T Virus) AN HOUR AND A HALF INTO A MOVIE THAT’S ONLY 1 HOUR AND 45 MINUTES LONG. 5/10 if you just wanna watch a random zombie movie with pretty people doing things alongside shitty CGI. I gave it a 5/10 because of the cow being flung across the screen during the annihilation of Raccoon City.

[neilthechiseler]

This Story Used To Be About Joan

(Or “How To Finish Writing A Story In Ten Easy Years”)

[Reveries of a wannabe writer after the cut.]

This story used to be about Joan. 

That was about a dozen drafts ago. For the purposes of this testimony, I’ve moved past Joan as a character, but since this used to be her story, I feel compelled to tell you that Joan was a sweet-natured, mildly trippy woman in her mid-to-late 20s who had just given up smoking and her boyfriend of seven years. It was over a clash of life approaches. For Joan, life was about singing the song of herself, because she contained multitudes, and what was true for her was good for anybody. Dennis, on the other hand, was hung up on the world. Petty things like keeping the power bill paid. Food in the refrigerator. You know, crap like that.

Since Joan was a free woman again, she’d gone back to her default mode of dressing like the best rack at Goodwill and furnishing her apartment like the worst end of large item pick-up day on the garbage route. She had dark bangs that she’d finally gotten right, just like the woman on TV. She was going to get an iPhone just like her (and that should tell you how long this has been on the to-do pile) until she realized that she’d screwed up her credit rating several years ago when she wasn’t paying attention to what she was signing. You see, she was really into textures at that particular moment, and the feel of the paper was a monumental distraction. Besides, minimum service agreements were tools of corporate hostility, and she felt the same way about paying early termination fees. Sunk again by philosophical differences.

In fact, it was as she was walking back from the cell phone store, tripping along to music that only she could hear, that she found a puppy, the kind her mom used to call a “Heinz 57 mutt”. It was sitting in a cardboard box which was apparently its current home, foraging in the garbage for its breakfast…which, being in the bin behind an appliance store, is drilling a dry hole, but dogs find a way. Joan picked up the little guy and got a flood of instant-validation affection. The decision was made. The dog was coming home.

From there, Joan’s story would be heading into the adventures being a single pixie in a fair-to-middling town and how she has to adjust to the puppy way of doing things, pulling Joan out of herself and dealing with the needs of another living thing for the first time in her life—never mind that she’d just shared a life with another living thing for seven years, because continuity is for cowards. The story would’ve been warm and kind, full of the wonderful lessons that animals can teach us, because they’re so like us, you know?  In other words, it would’ve been a copy of Chicken Soup For The Soul soaked overnight in an indie rock soundtrack until it was a soggy mess that just fell apart in your hands.

So you see why I had to ditch that crap with great speed.

Then I started thinking about the previous owner of the puppy. After all, somebody finds a puppy, somebody loses a puppy. Either that or somebody tells a puppy to get lost. So now we were on the story of a brown-haired boy with skinned knees and a crooked smile who promised his dad that yes, he could take care of a dog. His mom went behind the old man’s back and helped the boy pick out a dog from the shelter. 

While the boy was in the process of losing his mind, Liz, mother of one (“but some days it feels like two,” she usually tells her friends), noticed that her husband was looking on with an almost rictus grin. “It’s going to be fine, Tony,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder as they settled into the porch swing. “A boy that age needs something to get out of his own head. Care about things other than himself. Y’know?”

Tony finally snapped out of it, just enough to wrap his arm around Liz. “Yeah. We’ll just see about that.” 

The first three days were filled with the type of kid/dog romping that used to be underscored in family movies with a lonesome harmonica and guitar accompaniment. On day number four, however, the boy left the back gate open, and the puppy (who, even as a puppy, had become rightly freaked out by the boy’s strenuous, hands-on type of love) made a break for it.

It took the boy awhile to notice his mistake. He was busy burning ants with a magnifying glass, and wondering how long it would take to burn the squirrel that had ruined his pine cone bird feeder. When he finally figured out what had happened, an ungodly piercing wail of misery went through the air. The old man was on deck first.  “What’s got into you, champ?”

“Daaaaaaddy, the (blub) puppy (blub) got (snort) awaaaaay!” Through blubbing and snorting and snot bubbles, he relayed an edited version of the past hour that he thought would let him off the hook. “Help me find him?”

A kind of hardness crept into the father’s face, possibly because he had heard nothing but the puppy and the puppy and the puppy all week, and he was the one feeding the dog and cleaning its “peeps and poops”, as the rest of the household insisted on calling them. If this is a test, the boy’s failing, he told himself. And here comes a teachable moment. “I dunno, champ, this dog is your responsibility, so maybe it should be your responsibility to bring him home.” Then, just to twist the knife, “Better get your umbrella. Looks like a storm’s coming.”

What was coming was a torrential downpour that flipped the child’s cheap plastic Ninja Turtle umbrella inside-out almost instantly. Because of the miserable visibility, he ended up walking well past his “safety zone”, calling for the dog with a name the animal would never recognize because the baby genius had never bothered to tell the dog what its name was. That was the least of his worries, though, because when he was barely 100 yards from his subdivision, the driver of a tractor-trailer, fresh as a chemically-preserved daisy on his 30th working hour without sleep, suddenly lost control of his rig.

And at this point, with the steel behemoth close to spilling its presumably-toxic-to-humans cargo all over the suburbs, its indifferent headlights staring down a child who didn’t think he’d have cause to regret not mulling over his life insurance options this early in the school year, and two years away from the divorce hearings that would take the boy upstate with his mother while the dad dedicated his basement to a massive train set that he was convinced would make everything right again, let’s take a brief intermission.  

You might have noticed that I never named that child, and there’s a good reason for that: the little punk was a unsentimental aggravation. In a “write what you know” sort of way, I used to be that kid…and I couldn’t stand me either. At the same time, if I actually did the kid in, I’d either be drawn and quartered by a sentimental public, or I’d run the risk of clicking with an audience who kind of gets off on stories about kids being run over by diesel-fueled death. Since their money spends just as well as anybody else’s, I’d have to find new and “exciting” ways to flatten children, and who wants that on his head? If that makes me a coward, then fine, I lost my nerve.

(Occasionally someone reminds me that there’s a third much more likely option, that people could continue to ignore all this noise. My response is always the same: “Who the hell gave you this address?”)

Anyway, this is the point where I started thinking about the truck driver. At the time there were reality shows, news reports, and darkly amusing YouTube videos about truckers and the grueling lives they lead. Why not the truck driver?

His name was “Sweet William” Dallas, entering his second decade of cross-country freight hauling. William’s nickname was from a Leon Redbone song, and he had a tattoo of the man himself from the cover of Double Time on his left bicep, both of which he regretted once he decided Lynyrd Skynyrd was a better fit for him. 

Bill, as he now begged friends and coworkers to call him (which was the primary reason why they didn’t), was trying to finish a big-money run a day ahead schedule because his silver-haired mother was fading fast. At least that’s the way she put it after spending a week dealing with his aggravating brother, who had broken an arm trying to fish the TV remote out from behind the big dresser. "Get Richie out of here,” she had texted him a few days ago. “He’s really screwing up the schedule for my krav maga lessons.”

That gave William at least two deadlines to beat, and to that end, a twitchy neighborhood kid sold him a cluster bomb of caffeine pills and other stimulants, which our driver had been popping like M&Ms since Fredericksburg. Bill was either so tweaked or so zonked that he thought Unnamed Kid was a deer (a deer in jeans and a Polo shirt) when his truck told him to screw off and turned itself into a telephone pole flattener. 

(At which point I tell myself “Now that’s a pathetic way to put a button on a story. What about the drug dealer? Yeah, the dealer, let’s roll with that for awhile.”)

Andy was as thin as nothing squared, wearing a Make America Great Again cap pulled down tight over his sweaty forehead and an army jacket from the dumpster behind Goodwill buttoned to his neck, even in summertime. As far back as he could remember—that’d be last Tuesday—he wanted to launch a career in recreational pharmaceuticals, and attempted to jump-start a weed concern. Unfortunately, not only did he have a “black thumb” for agriculture, but no sense of effective camouflage, as his arresting officer told him. So he ended up in the bottom-feeding world of ordering pills from the ads in the back of High Times and selling them with a markup to people who couldn’t find a better connection. His primary clientele was desperate people on a deadline (mostly reckless college students), but sometimes he got special cases, like a young twentysomething woman who was just coming off of a long-term relationship…

Hold on a minute. That’s Joan, isn’t it? You do remember Joan, don’t you? This used to be her story, you know.

Not only is Joan more tenacious than I thought, but she turned out to have a few more jagged angles than she appeared to on first blush. She claims that her plot refused to launch because it kept blowing sunshine up my ass. No argument there, but to remedy that, she decided to go dancing on a patch of ice, screw her back up, and get hooked on under-the-counter pain killers...a shocking number of them homeopathic, which is a hell of a trick if you can pull it off. Joan insists all that had nothing to do with me, but there’s this hopeful look in her eyes when she says it that, under the circumstances, scares the crap out of me. So negotiations with Joan have resumed, because as much as I don’t want fictional people to wreck themselves for attention, there’s a mercenary streak in me that wants to see if this goes anywhere marketable.

So watch this space. Maybe the next time you read this, it’ll be about Joan again. Who knows?

That kid’s not coming back, though.

--enw

[ovaryacted]

Damnation Leon does something to me. Like? I want this man to be below me while I’ll ride him to multiple orgasms. Something about this guy crying from overstimulation then babbling about how he loves me makes my brain go BRRRR

Even though Damnation Leon is a version of him that I personally don’t vibe with (he scares the shit out of me sometimes okay!), I get it. It’s probably because he’s so pathetic and depressed and just completely messed up that it makes you go “yup, I want that one!”.

He just gives oily puppy dog vibes I mean, the scruff, he probably smells like vodka and gunpowder, and his bootcut wranglers really accentuates his thick thighs. I get it, sometimes I just wanna pull him to the side and force him into bed cause that’s what I think Ada would do in a heartbeat. Leon and Ada also technically slept together after Damnation (I forgot exactly when but I’m pretty sure they did), so giving this man any type of human affection will probably make him combust.

I see the appeal anon! Riding him until he cries, or pumping him so vigorously you’re practically milking him for what he’s worth. Leon will just let you take it, every orgasm you give him more intense than the last, and the release is so much better than anything he’s ever felt in his life. He feels like he’s high, the strength of your touch does more for him than the alcohol he carries in his flask.

He’s just so tired of not being wanted, not being cared for, and here you are giving him everything on a silver platter. You’re a god amongst men, bestowing him a bite of forbidden fruit he never thought he’d be able to taste. He whispers praises and *thank you’s* under his breath, saying your name in unintelligible mumbles mixed in with everything else that comes to his mind. He’s so far gone that his brain doesn’t have a filter, he can’t bring himself to care when you’re making him feel so alive.

“I love you…fuck…I love you”, Leon’s eyes remained unfocused and lined with tears, hands loosely holding on to your hips as you bounced on top of him like you’re depending on it. He’s not entirely sure if he means it, but he doesn’t give a shit.

You didn’t care how long it took, you were going to ruin Leon and mend the pieces of his broken persona. He thinks this is how he’d want to go, to die underneath your touch and overwhelmed by so much ecstasy his heart gives out. It’s the closest thing to heaven he’ll experience, so he’ll take as much as he can before he needs to wake up into the hellscape that was his reality again.

[ovaryacted]

Random thought.

People underestimate re2r Leon's sexiness so much. Like sure, he's cute. Of course he's pretty and beautiful. He's our babyboy. But that man is also hot as fuck.

I wanna suck him dry so bad :((

Horny thoughts go brrrrrr sorry Nic I'm ovulating and I'm making it your problem <3

-🌑

Hey, new moon anon. Hope you’re doing well boo, it’s nice to hear from you. I don't mind you making your ovulation thoughts my problem, I'm happy to feed into those delusions.

To your point, I agree. I feel like a lot of people default to the older versions of Leon because that’s when the “grown sexiness” kind of kicks in, and believe me, I get it. But RE2 Leon has a certain boyish charm to him that makes him sexy. Like he’s always been attractive, by real-life beauty standards he’s considered “pretty”, and has features that can be seen as soft or feminine which differentiates him from other character styles (I mean look at his Karen haircut, literally who thought of that?). I also think that his softer appearance is intentional to highlight how he doesn’t fit in the harshness of this world he was forced into so it’s a stylistic choice that’s done strategically.

Leon as a character gives me the impression that he doesn’t know that he’s attractive, or considers himself desirable, but RE2 Leon in particular is just completely oblivious, which is expected from a 21-year-old man who probably just developed a sense of stability and independence. I mean he’s corny for a reason, it’s to make up for his insecurity because he’s just a guy.

I think that obliviousness is what makes him attractive, plus the fact that he’s a sweetheart and kind of has that puppy-dog type of vibe, it just makes you want to do whatever the hell you want with him because you know he’ll just take it. Leon is pathetic and a loser in canon, but he just comes off as so sweet it’s like a “let me suck you off” because that’s his reward.

He’s just cute, and sexy at the same time, and his actual physique is slim-fit. He’s still carrying biceps and has a nice back, which gets more broad as he gets older with the added muscle mass. But I’m with you, RE2 Leon holds a soft spot in my heart cause all I want to do is top him, but then that’s me with every version of him LMFAOOO.