#cw: s*x

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

“what’re you running away for?” JAKE SULLY asks like his dick isn’t the size of an extra arm, divvying up your insides. fluid hips scooping up to stroke your pretty guts raw. opposite arm reaching across your tailbone to squeeze and give your little ass cheek a smack. he bites his bottom lip watching your poor sex struggle to house him; your arched spine twitches when it can’t decide whether to hold out or straighten. the tip of him kisses your cervix, and you cry out as you clutch the furs underneath you. “yeah, take it, baby. fuckin’ take it.” he murmurs, dirty talk from his time as a human resurfacing like a bad habit. your cunt sputters like it’s responding, a ring of white cream bubbling out while he’s shoving his cock in. when you stay still, his fingers and thumb pinch the fat of your ass, guiding you to rock and rut. “that’s my girl.” he’s proud.

[ams-puppy]

guys make sure to let your computers hook up to you every once in a while. they will enjoy it but it will be a lot (　＾▽＾)

[barleyo]

678-999-8212.

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: part two for my last fic!! ermmmm once again ily if you know the title's reference :3 this is a short addition too but idk i don't think part one required a super long part two! please read the tags, leon is mean in this one :c

Part One: here

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (21-50s), degradation, choking, hate-sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, non-con, striking/smacking of the face, alcohol mention

Wordcount: 1k

Leon had never driven this fast before. To hell with every red light in his way, he needed to get home. Foot sat firmly on the gas pedal, inching further and faster the more he thought about the series of events that led him here. 

His daughter was an absolute slut. How many men had you 'entertained' like that before? How many filthy calls had you made to men who were possibly even older than himself? More than that— how had he fallen into your trap? 

He made a silent promise to himself to put the bottle down, seeing as it left him in that situation. A promise that was an empty one, but it offered him solace in the moment as he pulled into his driveway. 

Leon's feet struggled against the pavement. He was still unbearably drunk and dizzy, now with added anger and unfounded horniness. He felt gross, disgusted by the erection popping in his slacks, but he couldn't help it. He was fathering a damn siren, and god did you know what you were doing. Your sickening voice, overly sweet moans, and your slick and noisy cunt that cried for him over the phone. It was all too much.

"You fucking slut!"

Leon had never been a rough dad. He wasn't a yeller, not one for heavy discipline. After his unfortunate discovery about you, though? He was quick to slam the front door shut and run up the stairs, feet clashing against each step with a violent speed. 

Whatever you had been watching on your television was quickly shut off when you heard his tone. You scampered under your blankets and feigned sleep. You had zero clue what he was on about, but you knew it would turn ugly just by the sheer anger in his voice. He couldn't yell at a sleeping beauty like you, could he? 

Yes, obviously he could and would. Stubborn old man.

"I know you aren't asleep," Leon spat, ripping the covers off of you. You stayed still, breath pausing in your chest. "Don't act innocent, brat."

Fine, so there was no escaping this. Damn it, what was this all about?

You begrudgingly relented and opened your eyes. Arms crossed defensively over your chest, an equal mix of fear and discomfort on your face as you scanned over your dad. 

You took in everything about him. His eyebrows were drawn together. His jaw was clenched tight enough that you thought it could pop at any minute. Fists balled up at his sides. Eyes dark. Dick hard— oh. Oh?

"You wanna tell me what you were doing earlier? Any specific calls y'made?" 

"Say it."

You had never heard your father speak so roughly, and anything close to the tone he used was never directed towards you. You were his sweet girl, daddy's baby forever. Now, though, each slam of his hips into yours made you feel like a cheap whore. 

"It's not true," you said. "I'm not a slut! I'm not, I promise."

You felt his large hand's grip over your neck tighten. Tears were threatening to spill, to run down your red, stinging cheek where the mark of his hand was freshly placed. You held it in. Daddy told you not to cry, that you had no right to. 

"Was just a mistake. I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, real convincing." Leon sneered down at you. It stung more than the unrelenting thrusts, more than the way his palm met your cheek. He never looked at you like that, like you were nothing. You wanted it to stop. "I didn't raise you to be a whore. You think you're fuckin' grown, huh? Showing off for whoever rings you up like some call-center bitch?"

You wanted to kick and cry, but the words stopped in your chest. Shameful wails sprouted from you. It was all true, every word he said.

"I just wanted attention," you were finally able to make out, despite the ever firmness of his hand around your throat. "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Promise."

Deep down, Leon felt awful for treating you like this. He tried to reason with himself. You needed to learn. How could you learn from a 'mistake,' as you called it, without a proper punishment? He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it. He couldn't have a whore-daughter, at least not such a shameless one. 

"Yeah? How's it feel now? You're getting all the attention you want now. Not enough for you, greedy bitch?"

Thankfully for you, he released you from the chokehold he had you in. He internally winced at the already forming bruise he left. His hands found your lower stomach and he pushed down. Hard. 

"There you go. Feel every bit of my cock."

God, he was so mean. His head knocked into your cervix roughly, no regard for your pleasure. It hurt, but the friction of his girthy cock dragging against your abused walls helped a little. 

Small flutters of pleasure peaked through the rough treatment, making it semi-worth it. Maybe if you came, if you focused real hard on getting over the edge, then maybe you could forget his awful words.

He wasn't nearly that nice, though. He kept grumbling under his breath, spitting out vile insults about you. Even as his voice cracked, he couldn't help but let his hips stutter forwards into you, whispering the harshest things. 

With a final, especially rough thrust, he came. He didn't bother to pull out, he didn't even try. Rather, he burrowed further into your sore walls and marked you with his seed, claiming you like the territory you were. 

As you tried to pull away, feeling utterly used and unsatisfied, you felt his strong arms yank you back. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

His face softened a little. Good, at least he wasn't scowling at you any more. 

"We aren't done...?"

"Not even close." He pushed your legs back, resting them over his shoulders. "Whores don't get breaks. We aren't done until I'm good and fucking satisfied."

He leaned down, dipping his head so he could spit. He watched the dribble of saliva coat your hole. 

"If you aren't gonna be my good girl anymore, the least you could do is put out."

[gor3-hound]

can't fight this feeling

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, stepcest, panty stealing, non-con, somnophilia, perv leon, p in v, creampie, voyeurism, brief mention of baby-trapping, just general creepy behaviour from leon, photos and videos taken w/o permission

a/n: this is basically just creepy stepbrother leon. he's real weird and kind of an incel lmao. definitely written with re2r leon in mind. mentions of him being a police officer. the raccoon city incident never happened in this!!

word count: 1.8k words

Leon had never been the best with girls. It wasn't his fault - really! He just had a habit of coming off a little creepy, definitely came on too strong when he was trying to ask girls out. He fell hard and fast, convinced he was in love with a girl if she was so much as nice to him.

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance!

He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

He meets you at the wedding, and he's instantly sure you're the one. He's pretty chill for the first few weeks that you two start living under the same roof, him as your sweet step-brother. He always dotes on you, takes you out for rides in his patrol car and takes you shopping.

He deserves a reward for all of that, right?

Well, he doesn't want to scare you off. Not when you're the first girl to actually give him attention. Doesn't matter if you're his sister now. You're so sweet and cute. His cock throbs every time you smile at him, and he's starting to get used to the perpetual erection he sports in your presence.

He starts off pretty slowly. Offers to help you out with your washing, pocketing a pair of used panties for later and washing the rest of your stuff. Holds them up to his face when he's alone in his room at night, inhaling the scent of you and rubbing his cock raw, cumming over and over until it's practically just water and his dick has friction burn.

The only issue is that once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. It escalates pretty quickly. He starts spying on you in the shower, one hand rubbing his aching cock while the other records you washing yourself. He likes the souvenir, and he needs the material for when he can't sneak in to watch you.

He ends up completely cutting out porn. Why would he need it? He's got enough material of you to keep him busy for a while, and he makes it his passion to gather more. Starts sneaking into your room when you're sleeping just to slip your panties to the side and get some close-up shots of your fat, juicy pussy.

Another problem that arises is that he keeps getting bolder. You've almost caught him so many times, and he knows he has to move quickly before you catch on. He flirts with you jokingly a few times, pushing down the anger that bubbles in his chest when you make a remark like ‘ewww, you're like, my brother, Lee. That's so gross!’.

Fine. If you didn't want him, he'd take it into his own hands. It was honestly way too easy to slip a sleeping pill into your nighttime tea. You had been living together for a good 6 months now, and you trusted him more than anyone. He smiles sweetly when he brings it to you before bed, ruffling your hair playfully before saying goodnight and heading to his room.

Not that he stays out for long. He's sneaking back into your room a few hours later when he's sure your parents are sleeping. He walks up to your bed, phone in hand - there's no way he's missing out on getting this on camera.

“Hey, sis? You awake?” He asks softly, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you. He grins widely when you don't budge, sleeping peacefully with one of your legs thrown over the cover. He really is so grateful you sleep in nothing but a shirt and panties. Makes this thing a whole lot easier.

His hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, palm sliding up your soft skin. His blood all rushes to his cock, and it's already twitching eagerly in his sweats, leaking enough pre-cum that a wet spot forms in his boxers.

His eyes stay locked onto your face as his fingers graze your panties. His breath hitches when you let out a deeper breath, and he stills to make sure you're not waking up. When he's sure the coast is clear, he reaches for the hem of them and slides them down your legs carefully, phone camera trained on your legs while his eyes refuse to look away from your face. He can't afford to get caught, not yet.

He's leaky and dripping when he finally gets your panties off. He moved slowly, not willing to risk anything. He's a but bolder now that you're exposed to his eyes, taking in how pretty you are. His breath stutters in his chest, his eyes wide and lips parted.

He dips two of his fingers between your folds and spreads them apart to give him a good look at you. He makes sure his phone stays angled at you, not wanting to miss a second of this. He slides his thumb along your clit clumsily, trying to copy what he saw in a video online one time. He suppresses a whine at how wet it makes you, arousal dripping down and making his thumb all sticky.

He can't wait any longer. He sets his phone down to wriggle out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off and letting them drop to your floor. He settles carefully on the mattress between your legs, gripping your thighs to spread your legs a little wider, careful not to jog you too much.

He moves a hand to the base of his cock so he can position himself at your entrance, his eyes unable to tear away from the sight. He's forgotten about his phone which is still recording face-down in the sheets somewhere. This has all of his attention now.

He can't help but moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance. You gasp softly in your sleep, shifting slightly. He doesn't notice. He also doesn't really care, to be frank. This feels too good to worry about anything else - the way your tight, wet heat engulfs his length inch by inch. He couldn't think about anything else if he tried.

He fills the familiar tightening of his balls as he fully pushes into you, his eyes widening as he moans again, his cock twitching as he cums inside of you. His breath catches in his throat, and he just stares down at you for a few minutes.

“Fuck…” He murmurs, voice cracking slightly. He's still hard - he's not sure he could ever go soft with you wrapped around him so nicely. But he didn't think he'd cum that soon. His cheeks are a bright red, and he's glad he decided it would be better to have his first time while you were asleep. That could have been embarrassing.

He starts shifting his hips, whimpering at the sensitivity he feels from just cumming. His eyes water slightly, but the tears don't fall past his lash line. He has to bite his lip to make sure he doesn't moan too loudly. He couldn't imagine waking you up like this. Or worse, his dad or your mom.

“Mmph… I'm so sorry, sis.” He whimpers as he starts to move faster, his hips rabbiting back and forth. His movements are sloppy and clumsy, every thrust pushing more of his cum out. He can't help but shiver at the sight, quickly fumbling for his phone so he can capture it.

“Couldn't help it.” He says weakly, voice breathy as he continues to fuck you, causing you to rock gently on the mattress. “You look… ah, fuck… so pretty. So nice to me…”

One hand grips your hip to steady your body as the other shakily holds his phone, recording the slip of his cock in your wet pussy. You're dripping all over his length, making the prettiest little gasps and whimpers despite being asleep.

“See baby?” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. He's already close again. Fuck. Why did you have to feel so good?

“Even when you're asleep, your pussy sucks me in… fuck… s'good. Best thing I ever felt…” He whines, thrusting harshly into you now, gripping your hip tight as he stares at the way your face scrunches up, checking for any signs of the pills wearing off.

He cries out your name as he cums again, his brows furrowing as he buries himself to the hilt in your tight cunt, shooting thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. Finds himself hoping you're not on birth control. If he can get you pregnant, you'd have no choice but to be his... right?

He shakes the thought away, pulling out of you with a whimper. He leans down slightly, recording your puffy pussy for a few seconds as his cum starts to drip out before shutting off the phone camera.

He just stares at you for a while as you leak his cum, the sight making him hard all over again. It almost physically pains him to clean it up, but he knows he has to. He can't have you catching on to what he was doing too early. He doesn't want to risk his chances of doing this again.

He cleans you up carefully, making sure that no sign of what happened remains. He pulls your panties back on carefully, patting your ass gently before giving you a loving kiss on the cheek and scrambling off to his room.

He doesn't let out the breath he was holding until he's safely tucked back into bed. He jerks off to the video he took, pouting when he realises he was too distracted to record him sliding in for the first time. He sighs, but continues watching the video, cumming for the third time that night before going to bed.

He can tell you wake up sore the next morning when your brows furrow as you sit at the kitchen counter, confusion written all over your features.

Ever the doting brother, he offers you a sweet smile and slides a cup of tea over to you, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, as if he didn't know exactly what that face was for.

"Everything alright, sis?”

[toxicanonymity]

Hello sweet toxic! May I pretty please have an age gap fic or drabble with game version of Jackson Joel ( my favorite long and grey haired man )!

Maybe something where in the beginning Joel comes off as shy and nervous and sweet but once he and reader get together he’s got the nastiest fucking mouth she’s ever heard once he’s confident that she likes him as a love interest

parts

JOEL x f!READER | 1.8k

He scanned you head to toe, then let out an alright fine sigh. "Tonight, ya can leave any time. Ya’ain’t mine yet, so ya don’t gotta do anything I say..."

NOTES: Hi sweet nonnie ❤️ I watched some tlou 2 gameplay for this, so I hope it helped. Joel is quiet, then dom / dirty

WARNINGS: 18+ Age gap (Joel 60s/reader 20s-40s), objectification of reader, slutty descriptions of men as usual. Joel calls her "honey" and one time, "little girl" (condescending). Beginnings of D/s dynamic, no arrangement, no consummation. Joel holds out, a little grumpy/mean. talk of being owned. degradation, praise, body/pussy inspection.

He stood like a man who no one could bother. Stone cold and solid, with a face that always meant business. His clothes were rugged and worn-in like a cowboy, and the obscenity of his tight jeans left nothing to the imagination, from the back or the front.

The first time you became aware of him, it was from behind, and you did a double take. He ran a hand down the back of his head, smoothing his shoulder-length mane with his other hands on his hip. He was talking to Tommy, and when you heard his voice, the twang put you at ease. He sounded like a nice guy, nicer than he looked.

Your first time at the mess hall, he was kind enough to show you around. You took that as a go-ahead to follow him around anywhere. You began to watch him around Jackson. Not exactly stalking him, but you didn't have anyone else to latch onto. You learned where he went, and you happened to go there too. You were full of questions about how things worked. He always took it seriously. He was a good teacher and didn’t seem interested in anything but helping you when you wanted help.

He taught you how to ride a horse—he must not have noticed you arrived on one. Your loins buzzed as he demonstrated how to sit. His big hands on the reins and the horn were enough to make you wet, but the bulge of his jeans and the way it shifted as he started off at a slow walk. “Now look close, okay? See how I hold it?” You were looking very close.

He taught you how to shoot. Stood behind you and you never felt more safe than holding a pistol with his arms around yours, his chest against your back.

“Attagirl,” he said when you shot the glass bottle target. “Look at that,” he marveled.

To be fair, you weren’t (just) trying to get him in bed. You had lost your traveling party and you joined another one but you felt like the odd one out. It never felt like you had someone to look out for you, specifically you. You hadn’t felt the affection or encouragement of a big, capable man in a long time.

Still, there was no denying you had a crush on him. It felt like a shock that he didn’t have women following him around in droves, until you got to know him and found out he was pretty shy. He didnt't seem to have much interest in anything but practicalities and survival. He was sweet, but never crossed a line.

Even when you started crossing some yourself. He took you on an errand one day, and he was buckling in your seatbelt, and you stopped is hand. You put his hand on your thigh, and watched his face. He kept the same, composed expression, but he couldn’t hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. He left his hand there on your thigh for a moment, then pulled away without acknowledging your move. The time it took him to move his hand made you think he liked it there. It was as though he didn’t want to take it the wrong way, wasn't sure your intentions. He cleared his throat, finished buckling you in, and ran his hand over his smooth, gray hair. It was always so well-kept. You had to wonder what it’d look like first thing in the morning,

One night, at the tipsy bison, you came in by yourself in a short dress. He looked you up and down and gave you a curious look, but didn’t acknowledge you. He was talking to Tommy. Tommy craned his neck to get a look, raised his eyebrows, and gave you a nod before grinning at his brother and resuming their conversation. Tommy was hot, too, but he was taken. Otherwise you’d love to see him in nothing but that ponytail. You sat at the other end of the bar and Joel tried not to look at you, but Tommy gave you a wink.

Another night, you showed up to the mess hall too late for dinner, and he was on his way out. He lived close enough and offered to make you something at his place, no problem.

When you came inside, you took off your boots, he took your coat, and when he finished hanging it up, he looked back to see you in a thin, low cut shirt and no bra. His mouth hung open and you gave him a flirtatious smile, as though to say, what?

“Ya’ain’t cold, are ya?” He asked with a pink hue creeping up his neck. He rubbed his beard.

“No, are you?” You asked.

“No,” he muttered, then composed himself and went to the kitchen alone.

When he came to serve dinner, your eyes were on his jeans. The heft of his manhood was always apparent, but there seemed to have been some growth in the time since you’d been at his house. You leaned over the table as you ate your meal, and he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. It was a small, round table, and there wasn’t much of anywhere else to look. He looked at his meal as he ate. You looked at his forearms.

After he finished eating, he dabbed each corner of his mouth with his napkin, folded it, dabbed his beard, and cleared his throat. Meanwhile, your foot nudged his ankle. His face darkened. Your foot moved up his pants, and reached the seat of his chair. He didn’t bat your foot away, but he didn’t look at you until your foot slid right up his thigh and gently nudged the hard bulge in his jeans.

His strong chest heaved, and he didn’t make a move, but his face was reddening as he cleaned his hands with the same napkin.

He looked up as he finished wiping his hands. “Think I’m your plaything, little girl?” He harshly smacked the cloth napkin down on the table, then his strong hand wrapped around your entire foot in his lap. His eyes darkened with a forward tilt of his head, and his voice took on an edge. “Or you tryin’ to be mine?”

You rubbed your lips together and looked at him fondly. He raised his eyebrow to prod for a response.

“Wanna be yours,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“You dunno what you want, girl.” He pushed your foot away, then adjusted himself.

When he stood up to take the dirty dishes, the silhouette in his jeans made you throb. He did the dishes, and when he was finished, he opened a beer.

He walked through the dining area on his way to the living room. “Still here,” he muttered, but didn’t stop to talk. He sat down on the sofa and turned on the radio, not inviting you to join him.

You joined him anyway.

You sat on the sofa, not too close, with your hands folded in your lap.

“You wanna know what it means to be mine?” Joel asked.

“Yes, please,” you answered.

“It means I own you,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’m yours.”

He looked at you skeptically. "I’ain’t agreed to own ya yet,” he clarified. "Ain't just something ya do. Takes work from both'a us."

"of course," you acknowledged.

“Gotta know it’s somethin’ ya really want, and if it is, we’ll agree on some rules, safe words and shit.”

“Okay,” you agreed excitedly.

He scanned you head to toe, then let out an alright fine sigh. “Tonight, ya can leave any time. Ya’ain’t mine yet, so ya don’t gotta do anything I say, okay?”

You nodded.

“But later on if ya *are* mine, you do what I say, when I say it.”

He was so serious and official about this, it sounded like he was briefing his men for some kind of operation.

“Okay” you agreed.

"so what's it mean to be mine?" He asked.

you shrugged. "You do what you want with me."

He nodded hesitantly.

“It means I take care'a ya, protect ya, and I own your body. it ain’t yours anymore,” he looked you up and down. “It’s mine,” he stated emphatically. “*if* I decide I want it.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” You asked.

He blew out air through puffed cheeks as if there was a long list.

“Ain’t got patience for brats.”

”I can be good,” you promised.

”Ain’t got patience for tears either. Too distracting out here, still gotta focus on survivin'.'

You tried not to show your worry.

”Ain’t sure ya can handle it,” he admitted

"Ain’t lookin to break in some tight little pussy while she cries and bleeds, either.” he cocked an eyebrow at you, and grabbed the massive protrusion in his jeans. “This ain’t no joke, honey. I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you insisted.

“Yeah? Well ya better fit four fingers 'fore ya 'spect me to try it."

“And I promise I’ll do what you say.”

Joel sighed. “Alright, take your clothes off.." He held up his hands to acknowledge your freedom "OR leave, and we’ll forget this ever happened”

You obediently stripped.

He took sips of his beer as he watched your body emerge from your clothes. “Alright,” he nodded. “Good girl.”

Once you were bare naked, he instructed you to turn around. You did just as he asked.

“God damn,” he whispered. “Now, c’mere.”

With him manspreading on the sofa, he made you stand between his knees and bend over.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he demanded.

You hesitated.

“Don’t have to,” he reminded you.

You reached back and tried to do it with one hand, one finger on each side of the lips. “Like this?”

”Both hands, darlin’. “

You spread your pussy lips for him with both hands.

”Good girl,” he said. “Wide as ya can. Wanna see your parts if they’re gonna be mine.”

You pulled wider

He let out a low whistle. “Juicy little thing. Sure would like to use it...But I’m thinkin’ it might not fit, honey.”

“Why don’t you try it?” You asked.

You turned around and tried to straddle him. He visibly tensed. You reached for the bulge in his jeans.

He snatched your wrist to stop you. “You don’t get to touch me without askin’,” he admonished you. “Notice I didn’t touch you that whole time?”

Your face heated in shame, and his hand loosened. You got off of him.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it? ‘

“I’ll think about it.”

Your eyes were tearing up.

“Ya did good, honey, it’s okay,” he promised. He picked up your clothes and helped dress you. “Just ain’t the kinda choice ya make on the fly. You gotta think about it too, okay?”

You finished getting dressed and nodded.

“I’ll think about it too,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he answered, rose to his feet, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he got your coat and opened the door. As you began to leave, he stopped you, “Hey,” he lowered his voice. “Ya got a beautiful body. Anyone’d be lucky to own it.”

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Thank you for reading 🖤🖤

[comatosebunny09]

kindle | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, mutual pining, soft boi leon, stream of consciousness

Leon does these things that confuse the hell out of you while you’re on missions or around the office. You’re his partner—work partner—but sometimes you feel like a little more. More than the younger sibling caught beneath the shadow of an overbearing brother. 

You don’t really know where things are going because he’s made it glaringly obvious in the past that he doesn't mix work with pleasure. However, something’s clearly shifted in your relationship as of late. Yet, you can’t, for the life of you, pinpoint what it is or when it happened. 

Oftentimes, you catch him gazing at you in your peripheral, a fondness inhabiting his eyes like you’ve never seen with the slightest quirk to his lips. That softness remains when a battle-worn thumb swipes blood from your cheek or rubs grime from your jaw. 

Sometimes, he holds your chin between his fingers and tilts your head this way and that—much to your chagrin—to make sure you’re devoid of injuries. Though, you never miss how his irises glitter like the sunset against sea waves, and his lips part a little as he relinquishes the softest, most relieved sigh to the air. And sometimes, you stand like this for eons, confused yet enamored, until the wet garble of a zombie springs you two apart. 

You never miss how a cautious hand finds the small of your back while you’re hunched over paperwork at your desk. How it burns through the thickness of your blazer, causing your heart to work overtime. And Leon beams so boyishly, bowing over to swaddle you in his warmth and cologne as he quips how “you’ve got your work cut out for you.” Yet, as much as he hates filling out reports himself, he stays until the moon sits high in the sky to help you finish. 

He always walks you to your car afterwards, arguing that, shit yeah, you can handle yourself. You suplex the undead for a living. But he’d fling himself off a cliff if his dear partner got snatched up in the parking garage. And he always lingers around a little longer after you pull off, a tender smile cresting across his lips in your rearview mirror. 

But he’s your partner. He’s supposed to do things like that, right? 

Like, he’s supposed to bring you food when you forget to eat—which is quite often. He’s supposed to show up to your apartment to check on you on your days off, promising his company, booze, and terrible romcoms. Supposed to hold you in your bed until you surrender your consciousness to the pretty little girls of slumber. And maybe, just maybe, it’s standard for your partner to kiss you quietly behind your ear and embrace you tighter when you squirm and chuckle and sigh wistfully in your sleep.

Through the wispy haze and the grogginess and the darkness inhabiting your bedroom, you shift to gather his cheeks in your palms—maybe you’re awake. Perhaps you’re still lurking below the shadowy depths of sleep. Who knows—and you kiss him. Cautious, but you kiss him. And though he’s initially thrown off kilter by the suddenness of it all, he relaxes against the suppleness of your lips. And his brows furrow as if he’s waited millennia for this moment. And his throat crackles with a quieted, hoarse sound as his hands perch on your hips, drawing you ever closer until your wrists cross behind his neck, and—

And…

Well, this is totally normal. Right?

part 2 >>

[puppetmaster13u]

Drabble-ish Prompt? Drabble-ish Prompt.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Beloved,” the beast’s maw parted, terrifying growl turned apologetic even as it drew itself up from where it had been snarling at their intrusion, words suddenly becoming comprehensible to their ringing (mortal) ears. 

Another beast crept, or perhaps it was more accurate to say slithered from the surrounding coils of green, even if there was none of the color to be found on it. A gigantic serpentine beast of feathered wings and gleaming crimson eyes as it stared at them all with open contempt. 

“Dearest,” the other being’s words were short, almost uninterested if not for the near-human curl of a lip that belayed its distaste for this situation. “As much as I too would like nothing better than to rend their flesh from their bodies and tear their souls from their still beating corpses-” Oh Yikes. “-they sadly do still hold importance to the timeline.” 

The first beast snarled, rising to its full monstrous size with a rattling of scales and thrashing of shadows. Like the monster under ones bed turned flesh and scale. Smoke crackled from angry nostrils as it let out another angry noise, twisting around with a lashing tail as it slipped back into the pulsing green around them. 

Leaving them with a serpentine drake they could not see the end of, if there was even such a thing. “Now,” it purred, the sound anything but kind or friendly. “Perhaps we can talk, so-called heroes...” 

Honestly You can ignore this, But also have their FR Designs lol.

[Pariah, Clockwork & Fright]

[Danny, Dan & Ellie]

(Yes this is slightly inspired by some of @radiance1's stuff, hello mutual <3)

[liltaireissocute]

[PERC'ILDAN]

I united with my husband an we came here to hurt everyone. This is an art for his very angsty but beautiful fic. Basically it's Percy's death but make it Perc'ildan for it to hurt even MORE. Also Cassandra is there. Read it, don't be scared of cyrillic.

[confettiibunny]

hold me, console me ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

Note :: puppy hybrid!leon, knotting + aftercare, idk I just ramble for 555 words and I wrote this with re2 leon in mind also mdni

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

The most romantic part about having sex with Leon is aftercare. You lay ragged on his mattress and barely know where your limbs are, more occupied with pulling air back into your lungs and the fat knot buried deep within your pussy. With every twitch of Leon’s body, you feel him, filling you to the brim and threatening to rip the seams of your puffy cunt.

Dark bruises and angry red bites wounds are a testament to Leon's fervent passion, along with scratches that adorn your hips. But it's all a patchwork of love to you and it hardly hurts in the moment; the line between pain and pleasure blurring when he's buried to the hilt in your cunt.

There’s something so tender about all of this, to quite literally be stuck together even after sex. To feel his chest rise and fall with every erratic breath. To hear him whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his voice so soft and innocent as he asks if you feel okay. To giggle as his tail thumps against the mattress. It’s a tangle of limbs and laughter and sweat and it’s beautiful in its own strange way.

Since neither one of you is moving away from the other, aftercare is Leon easing you to lay down all cozy onto the mess of clawed-at sheets and pillows. You feel him drag his tongue over your tear-streaked face, licking away the salt of your body. You often huff at his less-than-sanitary habits but he’s been such a good boy you let him. Ever so subtle whines escape him as he trails his lips all over your body like it’s the very first time he’s seen you, nosing into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and let it fill his lungs. Vulnerability invites a person’s truest self and with Leon laid bare before you, his eagerness to smother you in affection is clear.

And like a good lover, you reciprocate his affection with ease. You scratch him behind those floppy ears of his, holding back a giggle when you hear how he whimpers so beautifully. So receptive, it's as sweet as candy. Manicured nails caress his back, getting a rise over how he shivers from the feather-light touches. But you can't tease him too much or he'll get all excited again as much as you love your puppy, there's no way you'll be able to go for another round.

Eventually, his knot eases its way out of you with a pop and yeah, you really should get out of bed to wipe away all the slick cum caking your thighs but...nah. And you don't really have a choice to begin with Leon, as he keeps you pinned down to the bed. No if, and, or but you’re not moving and depriving him of the sweet comfort that is your body. 

“We can take a bath tomorrow,” he’ll argue. “Don’t want you to leave me.” Acting as if you’d disappear like a puff of smoke if you moved an inch from him. But it's not worth it to see those damned puppy eyes from him and have him nip at your fingers to keep you from leaving. Just once you can be lazy and indulge. For once you’ll shelve your problems for early in the morning. 

[omkookie]

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, size kink? Breeding, crying, just horni

I'm tired af but my ovaries I want demon Luci so here's something short I wrote🧍... Fem!Reader btw

No normal thoughts, head full of Lucifer fucking the cute little reader while he’s in his full demon form. His big demon body towers over her little one, and his giant hands grip her hips to hold her in place over his huge dick. He uses her like a fleshlight, mercilessly thrusting her on him and fucking her brains out. Meanwhile, she tries to hold on to the last of her sanity.

The stimulation is too much, and tears spill down her cheeks as Lucifer bites her shoulder. His teeth leave deep purple marks on her skin, but his tongue runs sweetly over the bite to soothe it.

“LUCIFER!!!” She screams his name when he slams into her cervix painfully, and he pins her down underneath him. “ Mmh..” He lets out a short sigh as his lustful eyes take in the sight of her sweaty body, her chest heaving, and the drool running down her lips.

“So, So beautiful.” He purrs into her ear, “Maybe I’ll use you as my cute little fleshlight every day from now on.”

“At least then, Someone as stupid as you would be useful.” He rasps out whilst tearing off the cute lacy bra that was still covering her breasts. “My cute little fucktoy.” Lucifer praises her. “Aren’t you happy to be useful for something?” His hands run over her breasts, and he stimulates her nipples by rubbing and twisting them between his fingers. She whines in pain at his roughness, and Lucifer feels her squeeze around him.

“Lucifer- please” She begs him, although she doesn't know for what. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull as she feels his dick once again slam deeply inside of her. She hears Lucifer's D.D.D ring and Diavolo's contact pop up, But Lucifer ignores it and merely throws the device to the side,

“I’ll fuck you like a cheap whore and then treat you like my princess.” He tells her as he forces her close legs to her chest.

That's perfect for a human exchange student. She moans as he readjusts his grip on her, his beast-like claws digging into her skin whilst fucks her vigorously, leaving her a screaming mess with tears on her face, and their mixed fluids seeping out of her cunt.

He finishes in her, his thick cum shooting deep inside of her so that he can fill her womb with his child.. And she feels completely stuffed by the time that he pulls out... Only for him to stroke his dick a few times before realigning it with her cum filled cunt again.

FUCK BEING AN EXCHANGE STUDENT... It would be too stressful. I wantttt to be Lucifer's whore, and pretty princess.. just give me that damn demon cock prideful boy (⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠)

[eddies-silly-art-gallery]

Pots n’ Picks Week

Day 5: Dessert

I thought it would be cute to have them drink a milkshake together in a 50’s diner.

Gave Senshi a poodle skirt, but with a Kelpie instead. Thought it’d be cute.

Also, mutton chops Chilchuck <3

Really proud of how these came out.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

JAKE SULLY abuses that pussy. Makes sure you’re some stupid mute mess when he’s done with you, fucking you into the ground until you’re a babbling hot tangle of limbs. Sweaty sex hair sticks up and shaky doe legs. He’s snickering at you like some fuckboy while you’re struggling to get up so you can go clean yourself. The kind of heinous plowing that keeps your pussy drooling an hour after the dick appointment. She sputters and bubbles, forcing out fat strings of mixed cum and squirt to bleed a wet spot in your panties. The moment always carries him away, and you’re always the one taking the brunt of the punishment, letting him fuck you up because he feels how your tiny cunt clenches down on him, making sure he finishes the job.

[s-dei]

has been workin on a zine piece and needed this as follow-up xD

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[toxicanonymity]

quickie (18+)

1k words. M/f pair (raider/sweet pea if you like). manhandling, restraint, spanking, praise, unsafe PIV, semi-public, 2x use of daddy. not what I was working on last wk :').

She comes to see him when he's working–-resting, it looks like. Leaning back with one foot propped up on his desk. A bemused sparkle plays on his eyes when he gets up and approaches, hands on his hips. "Look who it is," he mutters, eyes darkening with a forward tilt of his head. She shifts her weight and fidgets with the zipper of her open leather jacket. After slowly circling her, looking her up and down, he nudges her (his) jacket off her shoulders, and tosses it to a nearby chair. He stands close behind her, admiring her pretty little dress, running his hands up and down her sides. With his front pressed up against her back, he reaches around to grope her breasts. His nose nuzzles her hair as he takes a slow whiff of her scent, then murmurs, "Need somethin’, baby?"

She turns her head and rubs her lips together before whispering, "maaybe," with the mischievous hint of a smile.

“And I'm guessin’ it can't wait.”

She bites her lip.

His big, weathered hands snake around her torso, one of them working its way lower, and he teases, “Can't wait... turnin’ into your old man, huh?”

She exhales a quiet laugh.

With his arms wrapped around her, one large hand gropes her breasts while the other reaches between her legs, under the dress, to cup her sex. No panties. He slowly runs his middle finger along her slit, all the way forward and back a few times. He lingers with his palm pressed against her sweet spot, feeling her swollen and needy. “Please,” she whispers.

“Please what?”

“Please... daddy”

His hands both stop for a moment, one cupping a breast, and his other palm warm, wet and snug between her legs. His heartbeat quickens.

Her face tingles. “I–you take good care of me.”

“Yeah?” Growing stiffer and thicker where it counts, he holds her close and pushes his hips forward, letting her feel how hard he is. "The things I wanna do to you..." He sucks in a chest full of air and the wind of his exhale hits her hair.

He holds her a little tighter. “What is it ya want, sweetpea?”

She looks back with a slight mist in her eyes. “To feel you deep,” she whispers.

“Mmm,” he responds with hunger, then withdraws his hand to admire the glisten and bring it to her face. A growl rumbles from his chest as she licks it clean, the gentle slide of her tongue making him twitch against her.

Without bothering to go somewhere more private, he lifts her slightly off the ground and carries her over to the desk. He sets her down then nearly slams her into the desk as he bends her over. He holds her down with one hand near the nape of her neck. "Stay," he commands, and she doesn't move as he lifts his hand. "Good girl."

With his warm, hard bulge pressed against her crack, his belt buckle jingles behind her. He puts her wrists together and uses one hand to hold them, while his other hand slides his belt off. He secures the belt around her wrists, with his pants growing tighter as he finishes the double cuff.

"Mmm, baby." He pushes his hips forward, his hardness making her gasp. “You're askin’ for it.”

He backs up and slaps her ass and she lets out a little whimper with the way it makes her need him even more. He smacks her ass once more, then nudges her foot to spread her legs. He urgently scrunches up her dress. His cupped hand hits her cunt, and the smack sounds harder than it landed. With his fingertips on her mound and a thumb on her ass, he beckons her parts, and she tilts her hips in obedience.

“Good girl,” he mutters again. “Gotta be quick, okay?”

He grabs onto the belt with one hand and with the other he aligns his stiff manhood where she's dripping for him. With his naked arousal prodding at her entrance, the contact makes her gasp. He pushes half his tip inside. Then he checks the belt around her wrists, giving it a tug to make sure it stays secure. His hips press forward, pushing her soft walls out of the way as his thick, stiff length slides into her. Holding onto the belt, he bottoms out.

He pauses and slides his broad palms up her arms to her shoulders and on their way back down, he withdraws half his length. Then he holds onto the belt for leverage and slams back in.

Then, a sharper, deep thrust. And another. The way her body hugs his, his hips are soon on auto pilot. He pounds her unforgivingly. . .grunting, breathing vocally, gripping the belt. “Good girl,” he mutters. Relishing in her sounds of pleasure, he has his way with her, not holding back. His primal instinct pushes him deep and fast. "You're doin’ so good," he pants. "Bein’ so good for me–ohhh,” he moans when the praise makes her squeeze him. “God damn,” he mutters. His strong, bare ass flexes as he fucks her with his jeans sitting around his thighs. The force of his rhythm has her drifting forward on the surface. He slows down, anchors his hands on her hips and pulls her back into him hard. After bottoming out hard with moan, he's back to the same pace and power. After a couple more minutes, she lets out a tell tale whimper.

“Take it so good,” he pants, close to exploding. “Go ‘head–ugghh– come for me, baby.”

She whimpers again.

Without stopping, he bends forward and forces a hand under her to grope her breast. “Come on, baby,” he pants, “come for me.” He breathes heavily for a few thrusts, and she spasms. “Good girl,” he pants, “yeah, come for daddy.”

A white hot pleasure seizes her. Her chest lifts off the desk and she squeezes his cock as she throbs, setting off his own peak. He erupts in a series of moans and muttered curses, seeming to push deeper with every burst. She moans every massive twitch.

His warm spend fills her up over what feels like half a minute, then he stays inside, catching his breath as her pleasure echoes. “Good girl,” he repeats.

Still inside her, he unfastens the belt and loosens it, helping to free her hands. There are impressions on her wrists.

When he pulls out, she whines, “mMM."

“C’mon, baby.” He puts her dress back down to cover her up. He pets her head reassuringly, then pats her butt. She pushes herself up and turns over to face him, leaning against the desk. He runs his hands up and down her sides and looks fondly into her eyes. “You know i’d do this all day if I could.”

“I know,” she says with a shy smile, then it fades to worry as she hears someone coming. “Was I bad to come here?”

He shakes his head no, and his eyes go from her eyes to her lips and back. “You're my good girl, sweetpea.” He cups her head with both hands and gives her a soft kiss on the forehead. Then he grabs a tissue and hands it to her with a wink.

-----

-----

Ty for reading 🖤

and it hasn't been easy lately so ty very much for the encouragement & support, including belt enthusiast @theblackarmor , raider devotee @milla-frenchy , lincoln wife @missannwinchester, slasher wife @thesummerpetrichor, night walks pumpkin @aurorawritestoescape, and mean girl @dark-scape, to shout out a few. but I'm grateful for each one of you.

[comatosebunny09]

warm-bodied | leon k.

genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female reader, soft dom leon, choking, clothed petting, mentions of bodily fluids, language, light dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, size kink, brief somnophilia, dry humping, stream of consciousness, lowercase, not proofread, written while under the influence now playing: some days - stella jang

he prefers you like this.

without the knit of your brows or the upturn of your lips. defenses buried beneath the gravel, your voice soft with sleep. no sharp quips, no biting comebacks. just your lids dancing and your mouth parting slightly with each exhale.

he likes it best when he can get away with stroking your cheek with the flat of his nails as you dream of pretty things. when he can root his nose into the curve of your shoulder and inhale.

you smell like earth and heady things, and you shift the slightest bit in his arms, nuzzling further into the safety of his body. cling to the fabric of his shirt like a grabby child, and the notion makes his lips—and dick—twitch.

the rain taps a steady rhythm on your makeshift shelter—a tarp he fashioned between two trees to shield you from the elements. 

you needed the rest, your bones shaky with fatigue. leon insisted after you reconvened following a split-up to gather intel. after you stumbled into his back when he took the lead to resume your search for the president’s daughter. wasn’t like you to be so out of sorts. so naturally, being the good partner leon was, he herded you to safety—or some semblance of it.

you allowed him to hold you beneath the veil of night. to ward off the insistent chill because you were soaked to the bone, your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. and he was warm and so very big, and…

well, he was just helping out his partner, right? definitely not swelling with something feral at the sight of your body wrapped snug in his coat and you burrowing into his armpit like a scared little bunny.

besides, it isn’t often he has you like this. in the clench of his arms, his fingers meandering along the skin of your neck. dragging further downward towards the divot between your collarbones, grazing over your breasts. further still, on an unhurried excursion to your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt. from the cold or his touch, he isn’t sure. but the sight of them makes him bite his lip as he chokes on a groan.

you stir when you feel him. clear the phlegm from your throat, your lids still heavy with sleep.

“leon,” you warn, voice rivaled by the patter of the rain overhead.

“i know.” humor hangs in the depths of his voice, interweaved with something sensual. something disarming. “just tryna help keep you warm, is all.”

snort. “we don’t have time for the nonsense.” 

leon scoffs. feigns hurt, his ministrations never faltering. sure, danger looms between each crackle of a tree branch. between every hoot of an owl in the distance, every whisper of wind, but—

a well-placed nipple pinch invokes a bitten-off growl from your throat. and he smiles at that, sighing hot and open-mouthed against the space behind your ear.

“we’ll make time, sweetheart.”

a promise clings to the air like the oaky aroma of petrichor, and he doesn’t miss how your thighs clench at the rumble of his voice. how you arch the slightest bit, pushing your breasts into the calluses of his hands, still feigning sleepiness. give him the go-ahead to touch you more, and he’s every bit of smug now as he kneads, plucks, and flicks his fingernails over your pretty, pretty nipples.

and, oh, how he wants to taste them; roll them over the bumps and grooves of his tongue, between his teeth. but given the angle and the timing, he’ll have to settle for this.

“gonna take care of you,” he huffs into the delicate hairs at the nape of your neck. hands dip a little further down, coasting over the ripples of your rib cage, massaging the meat of your belly, melding to your hipbones. “promise.”

you shudder, growing a little boneless, legs instinctively parting. and leon heeds the invitation, his nails raking up and down the inner sanctum of your thighs, all honey slow and teasing. and he intentionally nudges your meaty outer labia with the knuckles of his thumbs, and they’re swelling and fat in your pants, pulsating with each touch. he coos alongside you, infatuated by the beautiful noises he invokes upon touching you there.

you shiver again, a cute whimper easing past your lips. the sound shoots straight to his cock, painfully hard.

“want me here?” he croons. you nod all too quickly, earning a chuckle from him.

leon needs no further goading, taking to massaging your pussy through your pants with a cupped palm and artful fingers. revels in those breathy little sounds leaving your mouth and how your head falls back against his shoulder. and he’s there, mouthing over your carotid, sinking his teeth into whatever flesh he can reach.

his name drifts from your lips in a gentle cadence—in a dulcet supplication that makes his head spin, and he unconsciously grinds in tandem with the steady undulation of your hips. mind filled only with you you you. with getting you off. with tasting the briny tang of your cum. with being buried deep in the searing clench of your pussy, and the notion makes him nip at your shoulder to mask the pathetic little whimper burbling in his throat.

“right there?” he dotes at a particular buck of your hips, and your thigh craters beneath his fingers as he squeezes to anchor you down, keeping your legs spread so he can play at the seam of your pussy. “keep ‘em open for me, baby. yeah, just like that. gooood girl.”

he’s breathless now, sweat beading on his temple, because watching your resolve wither away has him leaking pre-spend and rutting into the cleft of your ass like a beast in heat. you burn hot as he shackles your neck with his hand, unraveling you little by little, your cunt so very wet and warm and weeping into his palm. and his hold on your throat tightens until he feels your pulse beat violently against the lines of his palm and your breath hitches.

“oh fuck, leon! so—so close! i’m gonna…i’m gonna—”

“yeah? gonna cum, baby? want you to. so bad. fuck. please.”

like a frayed bowstring stretched taut beyond its limits, you snap. topple as quickly as leon built you up, your slick saturating his fingers through the thickness of your cargo pants. and fuck fuck fuck, it’s embarrassing how quickly he cums after, drawn to his peak by the erratic stutter of your hips and that sinful tongue of yours curling around his name. he soaks his pants like an overzealous teen, fighting against his labored breaths and the urge to push you onto your back to fuck his cum into you.

but as the dust settles and the rainfall filters back in through the static of his mind, you look at him with a lazy smile. with a quirk to your brow, your gaze all-knowing and swimming with exhaustion.

“well, that’s one way to keep a girl warm.”

to which leon snorts, tugging you back into his arms, lips pursed and tender on the crown of your head.

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