#kennedy yap

[ultraadespair]

:3 the reason for the inconsistency beyond the political plyte of supposed Fatphobia but in something called the set point theory, a ‘set point’ is the range of weights a body can function on. There’s minimal research on how to find your set point but HAS people usually average it out to be in a 40lb range of your body (again, from what ive seen) weight now. This is supposed to be the reason that if you lose weight, you gain it back, becauase your body is happier at the ‘set point’ and you might even gain weight because your body is sacred of the restriction (ignore yo-yo dieting or diet without exercise um here *shoves in closet* no no dont look at that door umm ummm) However, the set point can increase. And you can be healthier at a heavier weight. Be this from the ‘trauma of dieting’ or aging or having children. though the latter has biological reasoning; being pregnant has stress on the body and afterwards hormones are wild, and the older you are a bmi of 23-30 might be better due to the fat protecting your brittle bones and in females especially; androgen (the hormone produced after menopause) is produced in fat cells and might make menopause easier. Saying the set point can only increase and you can never be overweight for anyyy other reason

Basically ignore science and stay fat bc ur body is happy and diets are hard work that breed self improvement, suck down that copium with that McFlurry queen :3

HAES people need to be consistent or gtfo.

i can be healthy if i lose 30-40 more lbs become 50 lbs .. and if you disagree you don’t think health at every size.

[ultraadespair]

Ok this is a moment of cognitive dissonance about my body but

Hey, if you are an underwe1ght blogger, don’t post yourself with your f@t friends. It sucks but I make an effort to make sure my best friend is never in frame of my vlogs or day photos, the idea of someone on the dog water side of 3dblr making those ‘f@t vrs th1n’ posts. “Don’t be the girl on the left” type shit, and I really became hyper aware of that after I had been put in malesp0 boards when i was at 2k, it’s honestly for their safety. Once you post a photo of yourself especially on here, you dont know who’s photo album your in, i know im on a few. So yeah ted talk over, dont post your f@t friends on here, people are cruel.

[ellieslaces]

𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

afab ; wc:499

idk what anyone says. leon kennedy’s favorite kind of sex is vanilla sex. he just likes the simplicity and intimacy of missionary. you can’t change my mind on this.

there’s something so sweet and raw about being chest to chest, foreheads touching, heavy breaths mingling in the heat of the moment that’s really only achievable in missionary. the way his hips would grind into yours, each thrust deep and powerful, but still tender and sweet. the way he can see your face when you fall apart around him. he can hold eye contact as he speaks to you in filthy, sickeningly saccharine whispers. his large hand intertwines with your own over your head, holding your hand sweetly while he desperately pounded you into the mattress. he liked how he could bury his face into the crook of your neck, pressing soft and encouraging kisses to the skin of your neck. he could smell you - your perfume, the body wash you used, just the scent of your skin. in moments like these, he liked to memorize those smells. he loved that in this position with his head ducked into the crook of your shoulder, he could hear every little noise you made. every breath that hitched, every gasp, every whine and little whimper. all because of him and how he was fucking you. it was just so raw, limbs tangled, breaths mixed.

or maybe cowgirl. a step further from missionary, but still a little vanilla. the way your soft, lovely thighs caged his hips. how your body was on display for him to gaze at and touch and worship. his hands would be everywhere - running along your arms, cupping your breasts, thumbs ghosting over your nipples, fingers trialing down your belly, grasping your hips as you moved on him. it was a little less work for him, until you got tired at least. you always tried, always put up a good fight. fucking yourself on him for a good while, hands planted on his chest to steady yourself. his large calloused hands guiding your hips. when you’d begin to grow tired, things would shift a little. his hands would grasp your hips a little firmer, his hips beginning to piston up into you. his movements much harsher and powerful than your own. he also loved cowgirl because he had a full view of seeing your face when you came. how you’d cry out his name, nails digging into the skin of his chest. he loved it because you would collapse on top of him whenever you were finished, exhausted and tired from working him and staying upright like that for so long. he liked the soft moments after missionary and cowgirl, where you’d lay atop one another. after cowgirl, you’d drape yourself over him, exhausted from such activities. in missionary, he’d lay atop you. your fingers running through his hair.

sure, you’d get freaky sometimes, but for leon, the best and most fulfilling pleasure came from the simplest methods sometimes. and they were certainly the most intimate.

©️ ellieslaces | 2025 | i do not own the character of leon kennedy, only this work

[lobotomyworm]

RE4 LEON THIS, RE4 LEON THAT.

CAN WE PLEASE TALK MORE ABOUT INFINITE DARKNESS AND DEATH ISLAND LEON!?!?!

I AM INSANE ABOUT THIS MAN.

HE CONSUMES MY EVERY THOUGHT.

[bobbeshwar]

y’all not ready to talk about how most fanfic writers/readers on here are JUST like the booktok gooners. Writing ridiculous shit about barely legal reader x 30+ year old characters. And yall AGE THEM UP.

i understand having parental issues and all that but this is NOT something we should be romanticizing and normalizing you don’t understand how it absolutely takes up my feed. just like how yall are tearing those middle-aged women apart for sexualizing absolutely ridiculous things, yall should realize you’re part of the problem. there is absolutely NO reason for Nanami to be 42 in that fanfic and for reader to be 20. it adds absolutely nothing to the plot, and romanticizes borderline-predatory relationships. the reader is always cute, shy, virginal, did you stop to think about how strange it is to write that???

if you’re hating on proshippers as someone who writes shit like this look in the mirror. and go to fucking therapy.

[wherenymphsroam]

getting bratty with Leon.

strung out and high off multiple orgasms he’s already yanked from you, and you swear you’re close to just going nonverbal. with the last vestiges of strength you have, you meet his eyes, squinting and letting your brows pinch in a way that is nothing short of condescending. even in your position, lying beneath him with your knees bent and thighs spread wide, you dare to laugh in his face.

“really?” you pant, head bobbing with the force of his already sharp thrusts. “that all you got? I can barely feel it..”

and something inside him just…. clicks. oh. you wanted to play real dirty tonight didn’t you?

with a growled laugh, he shakes his head, and the smile that stretches across his lips doesn’t quite meet his eyes. when he looks up at you from under his brows, his eyes are no longer that bright, cerulean blue you fawn over in the sunlight. the moon is high, and they’re now painted with a tide of dark watered desire only you could string out of him.

“hm. can ‘barely feel it’, huh?” he scoffs, entertaining your obviously baseless, outright stupid taunting. you both know he was already grazing your cervix with each burial of his hips.

suddenly, that threat, that graze of his tip is flush with the deepest parts of you as he roughly takes one thigh in his grip, throwing it over his shoulder. you can only get out a squeak of his name before he’s leaning down, bringing you chest to chest and drilling himself within you, hard and deep. a man on a damn mission.

“don’t worry. you’re gonna feel it when I fucking come inside you.”

[madisunivrse]

currently thinking about men. as always. i need to be hospitalized immediately. x reader fics are the only thing keeping me going. about to go to sleep PLEASE let me dream of men lord.

[gor3-hound]

vendetta leon stares at his phone for a good five minutes after you send him a nude just to reply with "👍"

[withonly-sweetheart]

hear me out. nsfw mentions ahead

<><><><>

re6 leon in which the events of re2 never happen, he doesn't become a police officer until chris recommends it to get over a break up, smth abt finding your purpose or fuck tht

he's got no idea what he's doing in the goddamn room, six months of training later, but theres a shiny new badge on his chest and a can do attitude that disappears as soon as he twists over his shoulder to check out his t.o.

shit, you must be at least, what, a decade younger than him? he has to hold back a scoff when sergeant dismisses the room, and suddenly he's left alone with your silent, wide eyes looking up at him.

you keep him behind you in your quick, clicking steps, allowing little time for the questions he asks, trying to pry that little shell of yours open. but you're unrelenting, in the way that he is, in your serious posture and his amused demeanor.

a demeanor that "has no place on the force", you tell him a week later, just after he's turned the corner and tripped over the felony you handcuffed just seconds ago.

he huffs and puffs on the ground, but he knows that you're the big bad wolf in his story. and he's not about to swap roles to become little red riding hood.

so after crashing at chris' penthouse with a cooler full of cold beer, a recovering heart and heavy thoughts, he realizes that he can do so much better. become what you expect.

and the man that walks in the day after? well, he's not the same old man whose back you were snickering behind when he got the captain's office and the locker room mixed up, courtesy of your fellow cops.

you feel more like a cheetah around its prey than a partner to him, especially with the snarky banter that flows easily, the subtly thrown smiles and winks during an ambush, his awkward yet sweetly charming demeanor.

and guess who can really judge a book by its cover? well, in this case, you suppose by its age.

to be honest, the only thing stopping you from pouncing is the number printed next to his name on the file that's two months late, sending all you've known about him into a loophole.

it appears that sometimes, the force of objects thrust into motion cant be stopped, and the events that ensure one night during a late night study of the rook book ends up with a pair of boots tangled in his sheets.

the thrill of getting caught is delicious, hell, its the reason you became a goddamned cop. but you've been denied that thrill all your life, and when it finally comes to you in the form of this glorious man, you should've realized there would've been some kind of problem.

your crazy big hint was the sun-crinkled eyes, salt and pepper stubble and old man advice, but that's hard to think about when his mouth is buried between your thighs, and even harder is to remember the question he asked beforehand, now somehow expecting an answer as he smothers your hips in wet, sticky kisses. blissfully broken and gazing at the book with glazed eyes.

because how the fuck are you supposed to memorize how to identify a gun when that was the best head you've gotten in years? but when he finally sinks into you with a groan, you realize that there is one gun you will always be able to identify on sight.

better pray that doesn't show up on the quiz though.

series masterlist

[strawbabysweet]

Guys um sorry for being low-key fucking dead but look! Leon Plushie!

The fact he’s near the same size as my cinnamoroll plushie is crazy to me😭 Leon the fatty

[ghostsangels]

I present, messy sketches of selkie leons

Credit goes to @phoenixmetaphor for the selkie au I love ur au and other works!!! I hope u like the little doodle and sketches I did! Also, please check out their blog!!

[ultraadespair]

(Weirdest question ever but)

Moots who remember my b0dy ch3xs, If you can have one (1) of my body parts (arms,collar bones, torso) what would it be

[ttec77]

This blew up the other day in twitter after a month of it being posted, so I decided to post it here too

[confettiibunny]

bf!leon hcs ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

note :: mentions of sex twice, straight silliness and not meant to be taken seriously !! I just goobered around for 800 something words. Also I personally thought of di!leon bcs I love that old man 😈

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

⭑.ᐟ Loves to give you hugs from behind, warm breath tickling your neck as his hands are splayed on your tummy. Feeling his stubble graze upon your skin, calloused palms slipping under your shirt to feel you. Almost on instinct the two of you start to sway, rocking back and forth and back and forth. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen, mhm. As cute as a button." No matter how long you've been attached to the hip with Leon his voice always makes you a mess, the low timbre of it tickling your ear and sends a little shudder down your spine. And he knows this and takes this moment to tease you, lips against the shell of your ear as he whispers sweet nothings and his hands slowly but surely creeping upwards to your chest. But it's not long until honeyed words turn to desperate kisses and gentle touches turn to needy. Forgive him, really, he's just a man and man has his needs. And as he scoops you up and carries you off to the nearest flat surface, it's not like he won't satisfy your needs too.

ᝰ.ᐟ Gives the best piggyback rides. No, actually please do this with him; he'll try not to act like crazy at first but deep down it makes him so happy you have no idea. Who is he to pass up the chance to have you clinging to him with your arms around his neck and legs on his hips? It's so cute to him when he starts to run around the apartment, laughing as your shrieks and yelps fill the air. Yeah, you might be choking him a little with your arms but it's okay! Nothing beats hearing you struggle for air after laughing your ass off and feeling you lift his bangs up to lay sloppy kisses on his forehead.

⭑.ᐟ Plays with your hair as you guys cuddle. Mainly just a lot of petting, like you're a cat of some sort. Gets on your ass about it sometimes and playfully scolds you when you practically push your head into his chest to get him to touch your hair. It's soothing for both parties, laying you down atop his body and working his fingers into your strands to massage your head. Your blissed-out expression is enough for him, he’s do anything to keep it in his memory for life. Yes, playing with your hair was a must. Unless you just washed it. The hair stays untouched then. But on the days before you rewash your hair, you let him mess around with it as you're sprawled on top of him. Leon also does his best to undoes any knots he makes during sex and he's so attentive with it. Keen eyes do wonders for a tender-headed girl, propping your spent body in his lap as he carefully works out any tangles. Thinks your hair is so pretty and dotes on it, never letting you feel negative about it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cat dad. Hates dogs, but that's not a shocker. But also, he doesn't actually adopt a cat. Instead, he constantly comes home and whips out a stray kitten from his coat, holding the little critter in the palm of his hand. Makes you a cat mom (with your permission), and does his hardest to make sure the kitten is healthy. His favorite part of the process is when he sits on the couch and lays the little thing on his chest, giving it the lightest rubs as it curls up into a ball. You snag a lot of photos of these moments and save every single one, documenting every single cat he helps. You'll also use these pics to prove the fact he has some fat tits but for now, you'll let him have this wholesome moment with his strays.

⭑.ᐟ Not a single nonchalant bone in his body anymore. Yeah no, he grew out of that after nearly fucking dying more times than he can count on his fingers. That's partly your doings since being nonchalant doesn't exist in your vocabulary either. Besides, Leon's got a girlfriend sweeter than honey on cream. Who the hell is acting nonchalant with you? He is a true romantic at heart and while sometimes there’s a struggle to show it, the effort is there. Always expect good morning hugs, goodbye kisses, nighttime cuddles, weekend love-making, holiday fucking, literally anything and everything. He'll be a dead man before he stops worrying about the world so he'll love you like it's his last. Kisses you like he'll never kiss you again; a hand at the back of your head as his lips feverishly crash against yours. It's sloppy and loud with teeth and tongue, but he could care less. Go ahead, drool all over him if you want. He'll just wipe it off and just go in for another.

[clayderogatory]

hello everyone im a curious little fella today, and today i want to see you all yap about your resident evil ocs. give me the LORE!!! give me the DESCRIPTIONS!!!! TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!!! i love hearing abt peoples ocs and i am an oc x canon enthusiast. go nuts, i will listen to every detail :3

[melanchol1cs]

LAMBS TO THE SLAUGHTER, iv.

leon kennedy x religious f!reader

word count: 4.1k summary: god hates what he can’t have. masterlist | taglist | wips

previous chapter

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. themes of religion, manipulation, religious rationalization, age gap(reader is 19, leon is 27), leon being mean for like a split second, kissing, virginity loss, fingering, praise, unprotected sex. this is pretty self indulgent, sorry.

a/n: okay so this might be the last chapter of lambs to the slaughter… i really don’t know how i want to end it so yeah, and i’d rather just wrap this up now that i still like writing about it than force myself to continue with no interest whatsoever. but i do have alot of wips and a few ideas for new series that i look forward to sharing w you guys soon :) thanks so much for the support on ltts, love all of you sm, and hope you all have a great christmas <3

he doesn’t know how it happened or how you ended up here, on the couch, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands tangled all up in your hair.

its’s the middle of the week and you went over to his place, like you usually did when your parents were out for work, and now you’re here, your breath hot against his neck and your body pressed close so to his. and it’s all he can focus on. you. you’re all he wants.

the two of you had kissed before, the first time being roughly two weeks ago when you came to him crying, your eyes were red and puffy, and fresh tears were streaking down your cheeks.

the next thing he knew, he had already smothered you with his mouth. it was hard. rough. messy.

when he pulled away, you almost immediately started to complain to him that it was wrong, that the two of you would go to hell for kissing before marriage, and he had to shut you up with another deep kiss before having to talk you through the fact that it wasn’t a bad thing and that the two of you were not gonna go to hell for it, seeing the tears start to swell up in your eyes again.

the coffee mug now sat forgotten on the coffee table, the drink now cold and untouched.

the way your hair feels, tangled between his fingers, as he threads them through the strands.

when he finally pulls back, you're both breathless. your lips are swollen, your hair is mussed, and your clothes are rumpled.

"hey," he reaches up, gently brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair. his other hand slides down your lower back, pulling you flush against him. you're quiet, your eyes fixed on his throat as he speaks. your breathing's harsh, and your body's tense.

��what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft. you don't answer. can't answer. the words are lodged in your throat, threatening to choke you. all you can do is shake your head.

he kisses you again, his mouth slanting over yours. he shifts you slightly on his lap, so that you're settled on one of his thighs, one leg on either side of it. this new position allows for even closer contact. your body molds against his, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. his hands slide up your waist, his fingers gliding over your back, leaving trails of warmth in their wake.

“leon,” you shiver at the contact, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

his hands tighten on your back, fingers digging in just enough to ground you. “hmm?" he asks, his voice soft, but with a hint of something else. his hands move, one cupping the back of your head, the other on your hip, rocking you softly against his thigh.

one of his hands moves to your knee, gently pushing it forward. the action forces you to spread your legs slightly. the other hand's still on your hip, holding you in place. the hand at your knee begins to drift upward and under your dress, fingers dancing on the skin of your inner thigh. you tremble at the touch, your body reacting before your mind has a chance to process what's happening.

"feel good?" he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. the question is rhetorical, and he doesn't wait for an answer.

fingers slip further beneath the dress, fingers splaying across your lower back and creeping up towards your bra clasp.

you try to complain, to object, but all that comes out is a stuttering mess. words jumble in your head, and your mouth refuses to form the right sounds. it's almost as if you've lost the ability to speak, overcome by your body's reaction to his touch.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

his fingers reach the clasp of your bra, and he gently unsnaps it. your body betrays you, arching into his touch despite your protests. his fingers find the underside of your breasts, and you jolt at the sensation.

“leon,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “leon, please… don't want to do anything wrong,"

"baby, there's nothing wrong with this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "do you trust me?” fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, and you tense, ready to push him away.

"please don't..." you shake your head, unable to find the right words to say. "what if... what if god doesn't understand?"

he pauses at your words, considering them for a long moment. "god gave us free will," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "and i think he'd be pretty damn disappointed if we didn't use it." his fingers continue probing into your clothed cunt, tracing the lace trim of your panties, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit through the fabric. you tremble at the contact, your hips shifting slightly of their own accord.

you arch into the touch, your back bowing, and your breath catches in your throat.

"doll," he whispers, the word is almost lost in the kiss he presses to the sensitive skin just behind your ear. "look at me."

you can't, can't bring yourself to do so. your eyes are screwed shut, and your face is flushed.

"c’mon, baby, open your eyes." he prompts again, his tone gentle. and when you refuse to comply, he stops moving his fingers altogether, leaving his thumb pressed to your clit through the lace of your panties.

the pressure is just enough to make you squirm, a constant stimulation that leaves you teetering on the edge.

he gently takes your chin in his hand and tilts your face up towards his. slowly, almost hesitantly, you crack your lids open, peeking through the slits.

"please," you whine, your voice high-pitched and desperate. failing to hide the need and desperation stirring within you. you can't form words, can't string together a coherent thought with his skilled fingers wreaking havoc on your senses. instead, you let out a feeble whimper, your head thrashing from side to side as pleasure mounts within you.

“there you go,” he coos, as if praising a small child for completing a task.

"see?" you search his face, seeking some sign of deception, but find only sincerity and unwavering devotion. "nothing bad is happening. it just feels good, that's all." your lashes flutter, struggling to obey. and yet, you yield. your body melting into his touch, and your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder. leon's hand slides up to cradle your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as he whispers reassurance against your hair.

"breathe for me, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple.

"it's alright," he soothes. "i've got you." your head starts to spin, and your heart pounds in your ears. your skin feels too tight, like it can barely contain the heat rising to the surface. his fingers finally find the edge of your panties, and with a swift motion, his thumb rubs against your clit, and you jolt, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“leon,” you whine out, his name torn from your throat. his fingers continue their assault, rubbing and pressing against your cunt.

he chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrates against your body. “yeah? you like that?”

you nod, unable to speak.

his tongue plunders your mouth, taking what he wants. you submit to the kiss, your body pliant against him.

you're sprawled across his lap, your legs draped over each other, your skirt riding up your thighs. his hands are everywhere at once, palming your breasts, teasing your nipples, rubbing your clit. you're panting, your breath coming in harsh gasps.

your skin's flushed, your cheeks burning, and your heartbeat's pounding in your ears. "fuck," he mutters, his eyes locked on yours.

two of his fingers swiftly push inside of you, and you cry out, your body bowing off his lap, nails digging into his thigh. he holds you steady, his other hand gripping your hip.

"relax, princess," he coos. "so tense."

you squeeze your eyes shut, your body trembling. his fingers move, sliding against the slick walls of your pussy.

you tremble and shake, your body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. his fingers move, curling and straightening, rubbing against that one spot inside of you that makes you see stars. "lemme hear you, baby," he prompts. "make some noise for me."

you whimper, a broken, keening sound escaping your lips. he chuckles low in his throat, the vibrations of the sound seeming to reach down and press against your clit. "that's it, such a good little doll f’me. feels good, doesn’t it?"

he's right, it feels amazing. you've never felt anything like it before. his thumb is relentless against your clit, your hands fisting in his shirt. you're lost in a sea of sensation, his fingers and thumb working your cunt like it's the most important thing in the world.

“there you go, baby," he murmurs. "just a lil' more." you're not sure what he's asking for, not really. but you feel it in your bones, in the way your entire body is tightening up like a coil spring.

"lemme hear you," he prompts, his voice low and gravelly.

and then you do. you scream, the sound ripping from your throat as your body convulses and spasms. your vision goes white, and for a moment, you're weightless, floating in a sea of bliss. when you come back to yourself, you're slumped against him, your body limp and boneless. he's still rubbing your clit with his thumb, his fingers still curled inside of you, milking out every last wave of pleasure.

"so pretty when you cum," he breathes, his lips brushing against your temple. "so beautiful.”

you can't form a coherent response, not that you'd know what to say. your brain's gone mushy, and all you can do is sag against him. his fingers slowly withdraw, and you whimper, feeling the empty ache of your spent cunt.

“i wanna try somethin' else," he starts to maneuver you. "c'mon, baby, let’s get this off you," he says, pulling your dress up and off.

you don't protest, letting him strip you naked.

he helps you scoot further up the couch, until you're more reclined, your back pressed against the cushions. he settles between your spread thighs, his body looming over yours.

he positions himself at your entrance, the thick crown of his cock notched against your slit. he pushes forward, and you feel him start to penetrate, your body resisting his invasion.

"aah—“ you whimper, forehead creasing.

"n-no, don’t.." you try to protest, but it comes out as a moan. he chuckles softly, the vibration of his laughter sending shivers through your body.

"’m not doing anything wrong," he reminds you. "think you're forgetting that you’re the one who came to me."

his hands grip your knees, holding them back as he sinks more of himself inside of you. you whine, the sting of the stretch causing you to gasp. but it's a good stretch, like after waking up from a long nap. he sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rocking against yours. your hands reach out, grasping at his shoulders for balance.

"shh, 'm sorry, baby," he grimaces, his pace slowing. "gotta break you in real quick, ‘ts only gonna hurt a bit.”

you try to push against his chest, but he's too strong. he keeps pushing forward, forcing his way into your resisting body. the intrusion is painful, making you instinctively flinch and and jerk away.

"jesus, just fuckin— fucking relax, okay? you're only makin' it worse for yourself,"

he leans down, claiming your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss as he bottom's out, buried to the hilt inside of you. "mmpff—“ you mewl against his lips.

your cunt clenches around him, trying to coax him deeper. he groans into the kiss, the vibration of the sound sending tingles through your body.

he starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deep grind. you're still sore, still stretching to accommodate his size, but with each passing moment, the pain fades, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure.

"feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "i know, dolly. i know,”

he nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he sets a slow, easy pace. his hands slide up your legs, your thighs, your hips. one hand comes back up to hold your knees, pushing them down to spread you open.

"gonna take my time with you, princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "work you open, nice and slow,”

he's huge, and it hurts, but there's something else, something that makes the pain worthwhile. pleasure, building at the base of your spine.

he sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rocking against yours. your hands reach out, grasping at his shoulders for balance. you take a shallow breath, and then another, your body starting to unclench. he starts to pull back, sliding out of you, and you whine in protest. but he's just switching it up, angling himself and pushing back inside. and this time, it doesn't hurt so much. in fact, it feels downright good.

"you gotta breathe, baby," he pants, forehead pressed against yours. "just f'get about it. breathe."

he kisses you again, the movements slow and languid, like he's savoring something delicious.

you're not sure how long he works you open. it could've been minutes or hours. time seems to blur together into nothingness. at some point, he tilts his hips, and you feel him nudging against a spot inside of you that makes your whole body jerk. he does it again, and again, until you're writhing beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"yeah, baby, that's it," he groans, forehead pressed against yours. "show me how bad you want it." you try to speak, to tell him that you don't know what he's talking about, that this is all wrong. but the words won't come.

all that comes out is a keening moan, a sound that's equal parts pain and pleasure. he's still easing you open, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. but it's no longer painful, not in the way it was before.

it's... pleasant. yeah, that's the only way to describe it. pleasant and good and right.

"fuckin’ hell, look at you, baby. takin' it so good, you were made for this, doll. made to take my cock," he starts to speak, his words a stream of praise and nonsense, but you barely register what he's saying. the words are distant, a blur of noise as your focus narrows down to the sensations raging through your body.

his hips are moving in a blur now, slamming into you with a rhythmic intensity that's pushing you towards some unknown precipice. he's saying things, praising you, telling you how good you look, how perfect your cunt is wrapped around his cock.

the words are lost on you, drowned out by the escalating tide of pleasure.

“i knew you'd fit me so good," he pants, his hips snapping harder now, driving deeper. "every inch of you made just for me. so perfect ‘nd pretty. and this perfect fuckin’ cunt... fuck, baby... tightest pussy i’ve ever had…" his words are a blur, a stream-of-consciousness praise that washes over you in waves. you can't process them, not really. all that matters is the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you wide, hitting that spot that makes sparks fly behind your eyes.

your nails dig into his shoulders, your back arching off the couch as he pistons in and out of you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. your inner muscles are fluttering, clenching around him like a vice, urging him on.

"s'not fuckin' fair," he grunts, his pace faltering for a moment as he fights for control. he's chasing something, you can tell. his movements become jerky, erratic, like he's on the verge of losing control.

"feels too fucking good." he regains his composure, redoubling his efforts until the room is filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and your high-pitched moans.

the pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your gut until you're sure you'll snap. he's hitting that spot inside of you again and again, and you're teetering on the brink — it's all too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

"please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for.

"yeah, baby?" he prompts, his hips stilling deep inside of you. "whatcha need?" you can't form the words, not really. your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. all that manages to slip out is:

"more."

his hips flex, and he slams into you again, the force of his thrust sending you sprawling back against the cushions. you gasp, your eyes widening as he bottoms out once more, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

"so greedy," his hips start to move again, slowly at first, but picking up speed as he senses your desperation. "atta girl.”

each thrust jars you to your core, and you can only cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you're fucked into oblivion.

his fingers weave through your hair, holding your head still as his lips trail over your face. he kisses your eyelids, the bridge of your nose, your cheekbones. each press of his mouth against your skin is gentle, soothing, a contrast to the roughness of his lovemaking.

"easy, baby," he coos, his voice a low, rumbling vibration against your ear that seems to seep into your very bones.

his fingers tighten in your hair, holding you as he peppers you face with a series of gentle, soothing kisses. he's a paradox — the way he's caressing you, holding you, so gently, delicately. but the way he’s been fucking you is anything but.

you feel the change in him, a subtle shift in his movements, his breaths. he's close, you realize, and so are you. there’s that coil in your stomach, something that’s warm and fluttering, building towards something you can't quite reach yet.

“leon, leon— feel weird, again..” you stumble on your words.

"weird's good, doll. means you're gettin' there,” he assures. “just... f'get about it. breathe,”

at the same time, he picks up his pace, his hips slapping against yours with a rhythmic intensity that threatens to shake the couch apart.

"gonna cum soon," he warns, his words a guttural groan, his thrusts even more erratic. "when i do, i want you to let go for me, 'kay? just... just fall apart," he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath washing over your skin.

"gonna fill you up," he grunts, his voice strained. "make a mess of your perfect little cunt.”

and your body responds, as if driven by an outside force. your muscles lock, your back arching impossibly high. your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock for all it's worth as it finally rips through you. a blinding, white-hot rush.

his cock throbs inside you, his hips stuttering against yours as he finally reaches the same peak.

hot strings of cum paint the inside of your walls as he empties himself deep inside you. he stays buried inside of you for long moments after, and you’re not sure exactly how long. but when you finally come down from the high, you find yourself draped across his chest, his hands rubbing slow circles on your back, your sides, soothing you as the aftershocks slowly dissipate.

you're a puddle of warmth and satisfaction, your body splayed beneath his, his softening cock still buried deep inside of you.

you're still limp and pliant in his arms, your breath coming in soft pants against his chest.

he shifts slightly, easing his himself out of you with a soft squelch. you flinch at the sensation, and he notices, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you into his arms. he strokes your hair, your back, your sides, his touch gentle and soothing.

"stay a little longer, alright? just... a little bit more," he asks, his tone sweet and pleading. you blink slowly, trying to clear the haze from your mind. it's hard to think clearly when he's speaking to you like this, his words dripping with affection and adoration.

he's saying things, nice things, telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are for him, how much he needs you. it's all a blur, a warm, fuzzy haze that surrounds you, envelops you. it makes you feel cherished, special, like you're the only person in the world.

and you feel like you'd do anything to please him, to make him happy.

your mind flits to the clock on the mantle, its numbers seeming to mock you. you should go home, you know that. your parents will be back soon, and you can't afford to be late again.

“leon… i can’t,”

“c’mon, baby," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "just a few more minutes,” you swallow hard, your pulse fluttering in your throat. it makes you weak in the knees, it takes everything in you not to give in to his request.

“but—“

his arms tighten around you, holding you impossibly close as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "please, doll," he murmurs in a low, honeyed tone that seeps into your very bones. "i need you. just a little more time, 'kay?" his words are a gentle persuasion, a tender plea that tugs at your heartstrings.

he's been so gentle with you, so caring. "i'll make it up to you," he promises, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "i'll take you out, wherever you want to go. just... stay with me a little longer, okay?”

the room feels smaller somehow, as though the world itself has shrunk to the space between his heartbeat and yours. your lips part, the beginnings of another protest forming, but the weight of his gaze stops you short. there’s something in his eyes —dark, pleading, a flicker of vulnerability that you can’t quite name.

“okay,” you whisper at last, the word barely audible, a ghost of sound that slips past your lips before you can think better of it.

his face softens instantly, relief washing over his features like a summer tide. “yeah?” he breathes, his smile curling slow and dangerous, like he knows he’s won.

you nod faintly, unsure of what exactly you’ve just agreed to, or why it feels both terrifying and impossible to resist. your thoughts churn, hazy and fragmented, but his fingers are already lacing through yours, grounding you, tethering you to this moment.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvet hum that sends shivers down your spine. “i knew you’d understand.”

you close your eyes, letting yourself sink further into his embrace. it’s too easy, the way his words coax you into letting go of the worries clawing at the edges of your mind. for now, it feels safe — his arms, his voice, the way he holds you as if you’re something precious, something he can’t bear to let slip away.

he pulls you closer, your head resting on his shoulder, your legs tucked up against him. you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong. "rest, baby," he soothes. "you had a long day.”

tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae @clitorphosis