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casenjoys · 1 month ago

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DOLL PARTS

Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON SEX, SMUT, female reader, age gap, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, Stockholm syndrome, dumbification ig, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, finger sucking, bruises, implied physical violence, internal conflict, teasing, guilt, implied obsessive behavior(Leon) i think, dirty talk, pet names, degradation.

Summary: There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is close to lose after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. For him, to kidnap you is to save that part. Cause life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Of course you don't understand.

notes: this is a mess I fear, but I had a blast writing this tho so idc LOL!!! Also thanks @writingwisterias for letting me bother you with my rambling and my indecisiveness with kidnapper leon（╹◡╹）I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Clocks are ticking, not only in real time but in his mind - a disturbing reminder of how at his age Leon wasn’t even able to settle down. Tick - tock. Of course, men can always find a young woman, and two or three times of unprotected sex would be enough to impregnate one. Still, Leon doesn’t believe that applies to him - alcohol is not only a boner killer but also of fertility. Neither does he crave babies, he can be considered a dad to Sherry, also they would only show how time flies. She is enough of a reminder, no need for more.

He found you on the dating app - Sherry suggested he try, as a joke, probably not expecting him to follow the advice.

For him, you looked like a doll. Almost a godsend. Pretty, young, and easy to manhandle. Almost drooled at the prospect of having your legs wrapped around his waist. He should feel guilty or disgusted at the idea to fuck you… at the images of the material of your panties clinging to your hips, wrinkling up with every movement before his fingers would curl under it to tug them down. Right? No-no, he is only 38 years old - at his age men are already bald, Leon is having an easy time here. He has a chance, always had.

While he was unsure what to do, was a simple ‘hello, how are you’ enough for you? Or would it be too simple? Or repulsive? Why is he even worried about that, you probably matched him on accident.

You texted him first, something he didn’t expect from a young woman - even women of his age don’t text him first, they are dry and uninterested. Like sex with them.

“hiii ^^” This forces a smile out of him. Again, three dots appear. “You didn’t swipe me as a mistake, right?:3”

He hesitates, his thumb floats on the digital keyboard for a moment. No, it wasn’t a mistake, still, he needs to gratify his ego. “If it was, would it get you sad?”

“yep, actually, very big big sad!”

That was it. Easy and quick to get closer to you. He expected more obstacles, maybe times changed indeed or you are into older guys. All he needed to do was to open his wallet, be nice enough, and show how a ‘real man’ should treat a woman.

Leon knows a lot about you. He knows too much information - where you live, your college, and where you work. Not in a creep-like way, no-no. You were the one asking him to drive you there. Maybe your youth is the only problem to blame on - you were a chatting box endlessly and easily sharing anything with him, maybe things you should not have to. Somewhat, this only attached him to you.

There are always some subtle hints and hidden alarms, no one usually gives a shit about. Also, understandable, to ask anyone who knows him - hard to find someone with a bad opinion of Leon.

“He is okay”

“A hero. Not everyone is capable of saving the president’s daughter” or a simple shrug.

Outside his work, Leon is… just a guy most of the time. Yes, of course, not the luckiest one with the ladies, but it is unlikely someone would describe him as the type to kidnap a girl. No one understands how middle age crisis is going to be hard to handle, he is pushing 40, surely enough it is already waiting for him at the edge of the doorstep - and Leon had enough of bullshit in his life, a pretty and young woman is the panacea for this. The godsend pill to erase his problems.

And finally.

Finally, the tremendous loneliness will disappear, leaving it behind him like a bad dream. The feeling that everybody in the world is doing something without Leon. He can’t stand this ever-consuming loneliness to spread anymore, today IS the day.

He can let himself be selfish just once. Right?

To reach his goal, there is a small step though, a sacrifice to make. That’s why he set a date, in a good and expensive restaurant too.

And today is the day. This shouldn’t be forgotten. The biggest day. The most important one. No, doesn’t do the justice. The absolutely, positively biggest day, may be the right choice of words for Leon.

On the spot already, waiting for you. This time he isn’t late. That bad habit since 1998, but for once he didn’t struggle with his punctuality - too petulant about what will happen, checking clocks every second. Almost like a goddamn teenager, shifting the weight from one foot to the other on the spot. Nothing can go wrong, he tries to calm himself, there are so many ways to cover your disappearance. Perks of the job.

He didn’t notice how you arrived here too until your perfume brought him to senses. Your face is soft, your eyelashes flutter and you are so untainted. Your younger frame reminds him of himself your age. 21 years old, 1998. When he was at your age he had already witnessed horrors, you don’t realize they still exist. Leon shakes his head, that memory never brings anything good, but today his mood is not ruined and the memory has only strengthened the urge to keep you close.

Leon needs you, untouched by horrors and he knows much better how life can be terrifying.

“You ready?” He flashes a smile, his mood is more upturned than it has ever been - you can’t help yourself, a grin spread across your face too. It is infectious.

“Mmm, I am” you nod, curling your hand around his elbow, to keep yourself closer to him. And he is ready too, god, he has never been so fucking ready in his life.

“Not late this time,” His heart clenches at your words, and he looks into your eyes with a cocked eyebrow - awaiting whatever you came up with. “not like you at all, should I expect a surprise?”

“Maybe, maybe not” He brushes off with a shrug, a smile is still on his lips as you get closer to the car, but he can feel your excitement.

“A ring maybe?” You giggle. He opens the car door for you to get in, you don’t want to let go of his arm.

“A ring? Already?” He says and shakes his head. No, not a ring, but a different surprise. He kisses your lips in a chaste way, hoping you will not try to harp on this topic. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart, wait for it”

…

After dinner was different. A drop of temperatures and an easy flow of the air, dull lights of the street lamp illuminating your figures, inhaling the air in your lungs for the last time. The street is empty; no drivers, no smell of cigarettes, just you and him. And… silence fell upon you both.

Until his hand presses a tissue around your nose. It is suffocating; your nails dig into the arm, trying to worm out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, easy there” His voice brushes against your ear, soothing and intimate. The one he used when he fucked you. “Don’t make it worse for yourself...”

The warm body pressed against your back and kept you close until your body became pliant in Leon’s embrace on the silent night.

Tied up and unconscious. He is considerate enough to not let you experience the narrow space of the car trunk. With heaviness in his chest and like a scaredy cat, driving to his apartment - guilt shifts to euphoria in no time. You wanted this, no? Why would you stay with him after all? It doesn’t matter anymore. He was successful, finally. It worked. Today is his luckiest day, it should be highlighted on the calendar.

While this is the uncomfortable memory of your last date.

…

Every time you are alone, there are little things to do - you could have done some projects for college, maybe talk to friends and go to clubs. To catch a pretty guy, to have sex in the bathroom of the said club. Or fall in love with a guy of your age. It fills you with love and excitement like your hypothetical phone is going to ring as if you aren’t forced to be in Leon’s apartment.

Leon says you are a doll. Not those plastic bimbo dolls you see on social media with plastic acrylics that are longer than their eyelashes. Those reeks of cheapness by trying to be expensive, Leon has explained the difference to you. You are not Barbie or Bratz, those are ones you’d probably played with in your childhood, for Leon, you are another kind of a doll.

He is the one controlling you, making those dumb rules you’ve never memorized and you aren’t really going to. His grip around you is tight and your skin blooms with darker colors after playing with you.

Pretty, that word lives rent-free in his mind, almost becoming the most used of his. Favorite word. Your presence urges him to dress you up. A glance into the closet, most of it contains dresses and other items he has bought you. To take care of you, Leon almost emptied his wallet entirely for you a lot after getting you. It excites him. Admiring outfits he put you in and the same night, he is the one raising the fabric of your dress - two fingers or a dick inside you are enough to make you busy with moans and squirm.

He loves it, oh, he adores it. And your pussy is the best. It calms him, centers him - being someone’s center of the world is delightful, the only one time of the day in which he doesn’t feel insane. You make him feel sane, on the days when your mouth doesn’t run free.

From your point of view, he looks like he is trying to play house with you. In a wrong way. Playing house didn’t include tears or forced silence. Or forced participation. It should be fun, usually, it had been, at least in your childhood. Leon acts like this is normal like he didn’t just kidnap you during your date and force you to be here. He is still sweet, still spending his money on you (even though he doesn’t care about your preferences now), there is food on the table too. During the dinner, the silence is filled with stories from his work - names of people you don’t know. They don’t know you either, you aren’t the most famous captive girl on the planet after all. This is the bare minimum.

What’s more to ask for? Freedom, you are full of his shit actually, you would have preferred ignorance to be bliss cause his farce makes you feel insane. More unanswered questions flood your mind, they stick to your mind like a leech on the skin after a fresh swim on the summer day. You need to wash away this feeling, the only way is to question him. Right. First, you played nicely, still pitying him and holding him dear to your heart.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” And a confused expression was his answer. He doesn’t even process what you said, just moves on. This didn’t work. Nothing fucking works here.

Now you prefer to poke those facts at him - like a harsh whiplash, a cold water against his face to bring him back to reality. You shouldn’t live like this alone.

Under your flesh there is a hidden hole filled with turbulent waters, almost tearing you apart - suffocating you with confusion. You wish hatred was the only reason to keep you sane, but the deep affection towards him still emerges like a bad dream. His tired eyes with loving and sweet nothing words come from his mouth, peppering your body and face with kisses when everything is right. The memories of nights with him flash in your mind: he is nice enough not to break you, while your body reacts in natural ways. You get wet, you feel pleasure, and his fingers know just the right spot to make your back arch.

This tears you apart, it confuses you too. Maybe there is something you don’t catch on, something missing. Conditioning? You aren’t a mindless idiot, nor a Pavlovian dog, but your body reacts like one. Maybe that’s a lie to reassure yourself. Still, you can’t drive yourself close to orgasm when he is not home. Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, almost with tears trying to get yourself off. To feel like your own person without him.

But something. Is. Always. Missing. You are incomplete.

…

It is already late, really late. Leon is a busy man, at least his job seems to be really important - so important, that he has always refused to tell you, avoiding the topic like the plague and switching to that honeyed tone, talking to you like a dumb puppy. Maybe it is some government shit job, something dirty - suitable for him.

But when he is late, many hopeful scenarios emerge, the most common is his car crushing to death. Good girls get gifts, their wishes get accomplished also, and they end up in heaven too - Leon told you that and to him, you are a good girl. Corny shit. Could he be right though? What if your wish was heard finally? Then remained trouble in your life would be to get out.

And the same dreams are crushed every time the sound of the car engine goes off, the jiggle of keys reaches your ears. You know it too well, you can recognize these little details and they fill you with dread. The sound of his steps, they are so different from others. The sound of his car doesn’t sound like those outside his house. Maybe you are insane, but everything he does is so recognizable it makes you sick.

And Leon is back.

His face is the only one you see, even in your dreams. There is nothing changeable in it. Light stubble, but still him. Shaved and it is still him. Different cologne. And still him. Leon sickens you, this little play often pushes your buttons, urging you to break this act and get yourself into trouble. Maybe the remains of hope are to blame, maybe Leon would change his mind and stop this.

He plops down on the couch, drawing your attention to him - impossible to ignore, if you did, you wouldn’t stop hearing the end of his complaints. His black shirt strains across his muscular body, the fabric is not shy to outline his big chest. Black suits him, but Leon looks good in everything forcing more dread stir in your chest.

“Finally, home” Leon sighs, his hand creeping up to pull you into his lap, acting unbothered. Your legs straddle his hips, facing him. Don’t forget, you are captive. And this is the part of the routine. He is going to watch those old movies from his childhood, or work silently(maybe he will nudge his cock inside you, to keep himself warm) and then he will fuck you. A tearful routine.

“…yay..!” You try to smile, forcing it to please him. Ignoring conflicting feelings in your body, anticipation to feel his dick mixed with dread. A yearning for change. Leon kisses your forehead.

His blue eyes feel heavy on your face, making you feel so little. “I missed you” Leon cooed with a honeyed tone, pulling you even closer. That light smell of beer coming from him forces your skin to crawl. His fingers pinch your cheek, tugging it briefly too. “My doll felt lonely today, right? Without me?”

Again, that mocking sweetness. The one you’d use for puppies. You nod with a hum “Mmm”

“I had a bad bad day today, those reports dried my eyes, god” he groans, his head tipped back, rubbing his eyes as to emphasize his words. But still gripping your waist. You don’t have the mood to be nice to him, his smile and relaxed expression stir dread and hate towards him. And yourself.

“You look like you had a bad day and not me” Leon comments, raising an eyebrow before his thumb tugs on the corner of your lips - smile. You had a bad day forever, your day can’t be compared to whatever he had today. His voice is sweet, but condescending, like he knows what is better for you. Leon doesn’t know shit.

“I don’t think you have reasons to be upset, huh? Your life is easy, baby” He snaps his fingers. Like an order. “pretty smile for me, no one likes grumpy girls”

“You are fucking sick… you know that?” Words spill out quickly and mindlessly, ignoring his distorted expression - you just want him to be in pain. Like you are. There is a hint of fear in your voice, subconsciously aware of what is going to happen after your words. “… you KIDNAPPED ME and you want me to play along with this act?…” A bittersweet pause. Adrenaline rushes through your blood, like after a good shot of vodka. “That’s fucking smart… asshole”

A hard swallow, trying to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Anxiety. This time, your voice is much quieter, you feel so small. Involuntarily shrinking away to shield yourself from what is coming. “I hate you”

There is an uncomfortable silence and his face is not blurry anymore - it is the only thing you can see right now. There is no slap, which is worse, silence is much scarier than a reaction cause you need to know what is going on in his head. You should have stayed silent instead, maybe Leon was right - you can’t stop but back talk and try to get yourself into trouble. You got yourself into this, not him.

Maybe an apology… wouldn’t it be late? Would it save? God, you MESSED this up. There is no way back.

His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you with a clear discontent painting on his face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks - uncomfortably keeping you still. This time being pretty and batting your eyelashes like a dumb doll is not going to save you.

“You are so spoiled. No one likes ungrateful bitches like you” Leon shakes his head, not giving a space to you to talk back again. “I buy you pretty things, I spend my time and money on you… and you repay me like that?”

He tilts your head, the grip is bruising, almost. Leon doesn’t give you flowers, but bruises look like them quite enough. His words hit you like a slap, making you feel like there is something tremendously wrong with you, not with him.

“Is it so hard to play nice and stay pretty for me?” He adds with a raised eyebrow. His thumb caresses your lower lip, playing and tugging it down, before pushing the digit past your soft and tender lips.

“And quiet.” He tsked, feeling warm saliva clinging to his thumb as it pressed down onto your tongue. Lucky for Leon, one of his wishes is accomplished - you can’t really talk, only muffled words, while your mouth is occupied with his digit. He keeps the grip on your jaw, before replacing it with two fingers. Pointer and middle finger. You are so pretty when you keep your mouth shut or around his fingers. Or dick. The latter is much preferable.

Your mouth is always warm, inviting, and wet. Hard to hide how such act affects you, your breathing catches in your chest, as his fingers keep rubbing the front of your tongue - messy and slick, not wetter than your cunt right now. Your mouth can not be compared to your pussy though, it has much more pros than disadvantages, the only con is the lack of wetness sometimes. Not something unfixable at the end of the day, a spit or lube (if he is in a good mood) can fix anything.

Your eyes are closed, feeling his other hand keeping your head pointed up where he can see you. To be honest, you don’t really know if you are just trying to illude yourself and hide from the truth - both options are useless, they bring you back to him. Every time his fingers are in your mouth, keeping you quiet and forcing you to suck on them - your pussy gets wet quickly like it is connected to your throat. His fingers delve deeper, moving in and out slowly. You can’t help yourself. Your clit throbs uncomfortably, urging you to do something about this, and your inner walls flutter around nothing - your mind reminds you of how good his dick feels. You probably look so pitiful to him, your eyes reflect well what your body begs for while drooling around his fingers.

Your thighs try to snap close, to rub them together and get that sweet-sweet stimulation, but they end up straddling his hips tighter - feeling the outline of his hard cock press against the damp and thin material of your underwear. It isn’t a big obstacle right now, the burning heat can be felt easily. A choked whine escapes from your mouth, realizing that his pants are still on him.

“Uh-huh, you want my attention?” Leon asks, not trying to be subtle with his tone, laced with mocking sweetness. His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a trail of droll connecting you both. It is so empty without him filling your senses. His eyebrows curl up, glaring down on you like at kicked puppy. He mocks you, another squirming heat crawls in your cunt. Embarrassingly wet, dripping, and staining his jeans with your slick. God, you ARE getting off when he is being patronizing with you. “You ruined my day, baby. Do you really think you deserve anything right now?”

Your mind is screaming at you to do something, you need that relief. His cock. Anything that will fill the emptiness inside you with pleasure. You shiver when his fingers brush across the hem of your underwear, clearly amused by how wet you are. They push aside the fabric, already wet by your saliva - slowly stroking your drenching folds. So warm and puffy, even the light touch of his fingers on your clit makes your body jolt like you are in pain.

“Leon…” Your voice sounds cloying, it goes straight to his hard dick, as you look under your eyelashes at his face - it makes you feel dumb. Any sentences or words are thrown away into the bin under his glare, he doesn’t even try hard to make you feel like that, there is no need cause you are dumb. And you ache for his cock, ignoring alarms in your head. You are just a dumb, aching doll.

And his. He told you that.

“What?” Leon pressed, already withdrew his fingers from your cunt, wanting to see you more desperate. Your hips try to grind against his hard cock, to get a light stimulation. You stay silent, words aren’t enough to formulate what swirls in your mind. Somewhat, his presence and words are always tied to that deep feeling of owing him something. What? Not clear, but it is still here, even if his cock empties your mind.

You are still his after the dramatics you pulled, right?

You swallow hard, the sight of his unmoving hand on the belt makes your cunt painfully ache, ignoring your mind screaming at you to hit him. You don’t deserve this, it whispers. The guilty part of your brain won a long time ago, it overwhelms that soothing reminder - canceling it completely - you need to hurry up him. You are at fault, it whispers. “…Please…” Forgive me, I need you.

You gasp as in rasp motion he changes your position, shoving you and you end up with your back pressed down flatly on the soft material of the couch, while Leon hovers over you. And he kisses your forehead, with the same tenderness and affection he has given you before - like a couple, married couple on honeymoon. Your mind misses the bullseye with this conclusion, but whatever helps, right? The spot burns hot, as a reminder that you have to please him.

Clink-clink! It snaps you out of your thoughts. The sound of his belt makes your skin crawl, and more slick pools in between your thighs like at the unvoiced command. You try to buck your hips up, only to end up restrained by his hand - it grips tightly your flesh, in a bruising hold, and the signs will bloom into another purplish collection in the morning. His hand pins your hips down, - silently denying the control over your pleasure. Couldn’t be even wetter at this point.

It isn’t really visible, but his breathless sigh signaled you that his hand is, probably, wrapped around his cock. You squirm, to prop yourself to look down and maybe get comfier - again, he pushes you down with a head shake.

Your legs shake when his cock presses up in between your drenching folds, the slick clings to the skin, and his cock head nudges against your aching clit. And this hits so good too, his hard cock slides across your cunt. You can’t help but let your hips buck up back, again - to get your own control on the pleasure. Tsk. Your attempt gets easily interrupted again, as his hand pushes your hips down. His cock gets harder after every slow and agonizing rut, the wet sounds of your slick pressing and smearing his cock is like music to his ears. No wonder it is so easy to get lost, thank god your attempts to worm out of his grip snap him out of that pleasure.

You are so impatient. But for Leon, sex is so much simpler, cause he is a simple man. With age many things change, they get uncomplicated. Of course, Leon likes good stuff; tasty food, keeping you pretty, watching how your tits bounce with every thrust and feeling your flesh under his hands, how you react to him. But the sex isn’t the lovemaking or a way to satisfy you, for him, it would be useless to keep you here then. There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is so close to lose touch with after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. Life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Every time he sees you so confused, depending on him - he can’t lie, it makes his cock jolt. He wants to see every little expression on your face, - desperation, affection, confusion, misery, everything - to etch the sight into his memory.

“Baby, you don’t know what’s good for you..” Leon says, there is no answer from you and he doesn’t really need one. His eyes are focused on his cock nudging your hole before slowly pressing in - now watching your spasming and drenching hole swallows his cock. And you gasp.

Without fingers, without any preparation, but wet as hell, you still feel tight as sin. It is easier to get through though. The velvet softness of your fluttering cunt is addicting as your walls clench around him in a vice grip with every inch pushed inside.

It is dizzying how your mind empties together with your body, any remains of conflict regarding this situation is gone. Focusing on how his cock stretches your walls, leaving you breathless and trembling at the slow-filling sensation in your cunt. Your hands creep to rest on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

His cock pushes through, until its tip presses against your cervix - he is deep inside, his hips nestled right against your ass - and your pussy is so overwhelmingly full, for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“That’s okay” Leon cooed again. His hand brushes across the skin of your collarbone, caressing it. Burns and you are hot, to the point his touch felt cold. You shiver, his hand is always pleasant to feel, but at the same, the feeling of it is accompanied by something else, you can’t ever catch it. It is brief but always gives you awareness.

Your chest rises up and down unsteadily, looking probably pathetic right now as his hips start moving. Already overwhelmed without a way out.

“Awww, you are just a dumb thing, not knowing anything better” Leon drawls with an amused smirk.

The pace is set, rhythmically rocking against you, using your cunt like a toy. You want to roll your own hips back, to do something but today isn’t your day. You already forgot about your earlier lash-out, as the only sounds reaching your ears are flesh-hitting ones mixed with your moans. His lips are parted on a soft stream of pants.

“N-no..” This attempt of protest slips out easily from your mouth, without giving too much thought into what may happen. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. His hand creeps higher, to rest on your neck in a loose grip, a silent warning perhaps. Pretty faces don’t need to do anything other than being pretty, but tonight you let your mouth slip out too often.

The hand on your hip pushes it down again, the grip hurts actually. Feels like there are already bruises forming and he is clearly not pleased with you. He isn’t at all, your comments ruin his fun. They distract him from your tight pussy, how hot it is, and engulf him, begging him to thrust ruthlessly and fill you.

Unspoken rule, you should be silent and let him use your cunt without other noises than incoherent moans.

“Oh, no-no” Leon mocks you, a sharp, unexpected thrust, his cock head grinds against your cervix. To punctuate his words his grip on your throat tightens. Or you are imagining this? Another thrust, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hips start dragging his cock out of you, then he pushes it back deep inside. “I know what’s better for you.”

Every deep thrust into your spasming cunt, your thighs shake, and muscles in your body flex every time your hips connect. And his hand squeezes your throat, you can clearly feel the outlines of his fingers on the skin of your throat. God, is the grip getting tighter? Is he trying to cut the air? This fills your body with panic; it writhes even more, ignoring the painful grip on your hip and becoming more aware of the one that’s getting tighter around your neck.

Yeah, he is angry at you.

“Doll, you brought this… on yourself” Leon whispers breathlessly, watching your expression twist with a mix of pleasure and fear. Your hands travel from his shoulders to his wrist, nails dig into its flesh. “don’t resist”

His hand angles your hip better, losing the rhythm of the pace as his cock pounds into you in quick and deep thrusts. It hits your g-spot too, but the lack of air is the biggest of your worries right now. Your cunt flutters, getting tighter with the less air incoming, and more tingly wave of sensation rides over your body. The tips of your fingers feel weird, and your entire body starts to drown in numbness. It is weirdly pleasant but at the same time scary. Deep down you like it, not realizing it.

“Come on,” Leon grunts, his grip on your neck doesn’t lessen, and you try to focus on something else other than the possibility of passing out. Your walls clench around his dick tighter, and your mouth opens uselessly as a dumb fish trying to speak, but the only sound coming out is a muffled one.

“If you are so smart… fuck…” He moans, you feel so good, your walls clenched tight around his dragging cock and your body is so easily letting him use your pussy. He can get drunk on it. “…use your big mouth”

His grip tightens, and another choked moan tries to drawl out of your mouth. Nothing comes out other than a quiet, pathetic mewl. It feels like you are going to die.

“Use your filthy and smart mouth” He taunts again, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. His hips thrust into you in rough and hard movements. It feels like just his presence is overfilling you. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame. “or you can only use it for my dick.. huh? Like a whore, not a doll”

“A…m, S-s” I am sorry. You try your best, but it is hard to do multitasking when your head is so lightheaded and his dick inside you feels so good. Your body feels numb like it doesn’t belong to you anymore, writhing and squirming every time his cockhead hit your cervix - a pang of tingling mixture, something so new and pleasurable, but at the same time foreign, with the hint of pain. But it is a delicious kind of hurt, toe-curling one.

You are going to pass out, trying to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth and your nails dig into the skin of his bicep - begging, unawarely your eyes sprinkle with tears. “S-..sor-r—” This is your best attempt.

Orgasm has always been different with him, it is warm, still keeping your turmoil. This time it is crushing, but feels shorter than it was actually. It hits your body unexpectedly, filling to the brim with the feeling of his cock spouting cum inside you, while every patch of your skin is numb and burning hot.

Confusing your mind more when his hand slipped away, so close to pass out and the quick rush of air fills your lungs almost choking you, overwhelming the pleasure of your own orgasm. You are so sensitive, at the brink of tears - not having any strength to keep them in, they easily well in your eyes, blurring even more the vision before rolling down. It doesn’t hit like it should cause you are too focused on the fading numbness and shaking while inhaling the air - unreasonably afraid(to Leon) that he is going to take it away again. Breathing feels much better than sex, right now at least.

He pulls out his dick, and his cum slowly oozes out of your hole, while you are still recovering. Not hiding where his gaze is directed. It is hypnotizing, urging him to shove it back into you with his fingers and keep his cum inside you for a little bit longer. You snap him out of this trance with your sobbing and incoherent words.

“I am so—sorry!” You sob, tugging onto the fabric of his black shirt to pull him closer to you. Seeking comfort in him, you don’t have any other options. He can’t deny this to you, his arm wraps around your shoulders. And even if you had other choices, still you would crawl back to Leon. “I was mistaken… I am so-so sorry. It was a mistake!”

God, you shake like a leaf right now. He huffs as if your words were the most obvious thing. Like the sky is blue or two plus two is four. It is hard to push you away, the trembling and teared-up mess. Leon enjoys that.

“There you are, baby. I got it” Leon sighs, the crease in between his eyebrows deepens. His hand brushes away your hair from your face, to get a better glance of your state. Mistake. Everything is a mistake here - your presence, getting off only of him, texting him first, and letting him take you on dates. Leon can’t help, but chuckle. “Of course. Indeed a mistake, doll”

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casenjoys · 1 month ago

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RE: DI Leon trying to do a smut/sex hardcore scenario with his partner but that man is too soft after years on the job. And you’re his sweet baby and he keeps checking in whispering ‘what’s your light, sweetie?’ And every time you say green and he does that little mumble of ‘okay good’ before proceeding.

Like don’t get me wrong, that man FUCKS, hands pinning you down and throwing you about, manhandling you the way you like. Deep groaning voice all condescending as he tells you ‘You can hold it a second longer, baby. Do it for me, come on.’

But if it’s something more adventurous he’s constantly staring at you through whatever smug smirk he has on with those crinkled baby blue eyes thinking ‘this is hot as fuck I’m hard as a rock but I really hope they’re actually enjoying this too or I’m gonna kill myself out of guilt’

That’s not an overstatement, he probably would knowing him

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casenjoys · 1 month ago

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SEX EDUCATION

re2!leon kennedy x afab!reader // 2.5k words

summary: You tell him that you need to practice a certain set of skills, and he's more than happy to oblige. His lack of experience is simply a... bonus of the arrangement.

warnings: 18+ only. heavy corruption and praise kink. reader is a weirdo but everything is explicity consensual.

You sink to your knees before the couch, between the wide spread of Leon's legs, and a ruddy blush blooms out along his cheeks. Timid and tender, the color of ripe cherries painted beneath the skin. You know he would taste just as sweet.

“You've really never done this before?” you ask, question absent of accusation, fingers massaging his upper thighs through the fabric of his jeans. A simple up and down, thumbs digging into the muscle.

He shakes his head, eyes glassy and reverent, hands white-knuckling the edge of the cushion. Hasn't even pulled his cock out and he's already trembling, hips twitching when your touch wanders too close to the crease of his thighs. You do it on purpose, again and again, just to watch him squirm.

The rush of power triggers something dark and miasmic inside your brain. A lurking, infectious thing with its heart set on ruining the man before you, feeding on his innocence. It opens its maw and gnashes its teeth as you palm him through his unzipped pants, mouth watering at the hardness beneath your teasing fingers.

(”You've done more than I have,” he huffs, pointedly ignoring the weight of your curious gaze. “Not sure if dry humping on your girlfriend's couch even counts.”)

Poor, needy thing.

You've had this sickness in your gut for a while, an infectious miasma that grew and grew alongside your relationship with Leon. An infatuation years in the making, brought to climax when you shared your troubles regarding a non-existent sex life.

He gasps a stuttering breath, eyes fluttering shut when you slip a hand beneath his underwear. Already, the tip slicks wet with precum. Twitches heavy against your hand, seeking, a primal plea rooted deep in his DNA.

(”Haven't sucked a dick in so long I think I've forgotten how.” Catalystic words, grumbled on the same couch he's spread out on. A simple act of testing the waters, splashing your feet around to get a feel of the temperature.

He looks over at you all wide-eyed, an eagerness stamped down by his fear of rejection, the neck of a fresh beer strangled beneath his fingers. Condensation drips down the glass, a perfect circle wetting the thigh of his jeans.

You can think of a better reason for those fingers of his.)

His cock springs up when you tug down his underwear, and a long moment passes of shuffling before his pants wind around his ankles, stuck on his sneakers. You sit back, hands resting on the inside of his knees, a steadfast, calming pressure as you take him in. Muscular legs dusted in fine blond hair, thickening as you close in on his groin. The pretty curve of his cock, the flush-pink head. You swallow down a rush of spit that fills your mouth, already anticipating the taste of him on your tongue.

The sudden sound of him clearing his throat stops your starting.

“Ready?” you ask, leaning in close, nuzzling at his lower belly through his shirt. He smells good, like the fresh pine of body wash and clean, flower-pressed clothes.

How sweet of him.

“Yeah.” His voice breaks on the word, hips twitching forward on the cushion.

Cute cute cute cute—

“Stay still for me, okay?” A test to see how well he follows directions, your smile soft, tender at its seam.

His little mutter of, “Yeah,” ignites a wave of heat down to the pit of your gut. So obedient, driven by hindbrain desperation. Fit to burst down the middle.

You start out slow—a trail of loving pecks up the underside of his cock. Ghosting your lips over the skin, depriving yourself of your urges to taste him. To sate your appetite. In turn, whatever resolve he managed to collect shatters at your touch. He gasps like he's been stabbed, hips locking at the last second to avoid disobeying your request.

Spit pools in your mouth, settles in the little divot your tongue makes when you curl it, only to be spread over the vein that runs underside his length. It pulses against your touch, jerks toward his belly when you circle over his frenulum.

“Where you going?” you ask, lips spread into a teasing smile.

A second passes before he breaks into a laugh, head collapsing against the back of the couch, and all the tension is vacuumed from the room. Easy to pretend that this arrangement is long-followed routine, more for his sake than yours.

When the giggles have settled, you take him into the wet heat of your mouth. You hum at the taste of him, the salt-musk of precum, the cleanliness of his skin—

The beast settles, bares its belly from within the cage of your chest.

“Oh, fuck.” Leon reaches up to grip your shoulders, fingers fisting in your shirt when you hollow out your cheeks and swallow him down. “Shit—please—”

He babbles as you work him over, languid bobs of your head that leave him shivering, each inhale a shaky gasp. A lightning-strike fire of unused nerves, impossibly sensitive.

Each reaction from his body licks over your ego, whispers to it sweet nothings, strokes you between the legs with a timid finger. You knew he would be good (so, so good for you) but you never could've imagined this. A sweet little thing, fully ripe, tasty. Skin and all.

When your nose meets his groin, cockhead lodged in the sheath of your throat, he cums without warning—hips grinding against your face, knees locking against your shoulders to keep you in place; the poor thing reduced to basal instinct, rationale fried by orgasm. He attempts some semblance of one, a pitiful whine that dies in his throat, but it doesn't bother you.

You swallow it all anyway.

A tinge of sadness curls in your belly. If only you could have tasted him.

You pull away from him with a wet pop, eyes darting up to his face. You're no better than him. No less a kneeling dog, hungry for validation.

It was good, right? Didn't I do good?

He dips his chin toward his heaving chest and meets your gaze, eyes lidded and watery, cheeks flushed. Pretty. So so pretty.

“That was… fast. I'm—”

“Don't. I liked it.” You crawl up next to him on the couch, hand soothing the skin of his thigh. “And besides, we can always work on it.”

He blinks at you, sluggish in his haze. Can only say, “That was… Jesus. Good.”

Inside, you preen. “Guess I didn't need the practice after all.”

“Fuck no.”

He dissolves into a fit of giggles. Exhales a deep, relaxed sigh. Turns his head to grin at you, and your heart swells to the point of sickly-sweet pain.

Yeah, you can work with this.

He looks at a wet pussy for the first time and forgets how to act.

Sat on his knees before the couch, your legs spread out atop the cushions, he flushes red from the tops of his cheeks down to the neckline of his shirt, eyes alert and searching.

(”Can you teach me how to… ya know?”

You don't know, but then his eyes dart to your lap, a nod of his head following.

Oh. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Quite the opposite given the well of heat that rises in your belly.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “I don't want you to feel like you have to—”

“No, I want to.” His cheeks redden, a shy smile stretching his lips. “A lot.”)

You bite back a smile, adjusting your hips to balance on the edge. “You can touch me, ya know.”

He gives your face a glance, shoulders unfurling from around his ears at whatever expression he sees (no doubt one of anticipation, expectancy). Curls his fingers around your hips, touch gentle, almost wary in the way his thumbs soothe a path over your skin.

His lips twitch into a wincing smile. “I don't really know where to start.”

Something black and viscous twists in your belly. The source of your wickedness—why your insides clench at the plight of his innocence; why you fight the urge to grin at the smallness of his voice.

“Just give it a little kiss. Try different things.” You brush a hand through the silk of his hair, smile loose on your lips. “There's no rush, okay?”

He nods, and a warm breath of air washes over the slick of your cunt. Relief at your relaxation. You reach down and part your inner labia with fore and middle finger, your other hand stretching over the crown of his head to coax him closer.

When his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, your muscles clench around emptiness, a gnawing ache that pangs in your belly. A great chasm of need begging to be stated.

Baby steps. Patience stretched thin for the end reward.

“Have you ever seen a pussy up close?”

He shakes his head, hums his dissent as his eyes dissect you between the legs. You must look a needy mess, slicked up and spread open for him, ready for feasting.

“What do I—” He cuts himself off with a thick swallow, a blink, before the wet muscle of his tongue licks a slow path from hole to clit.

Poor, lost baby. So ready to please, to make you feel good in spite of his inexperience. But you'll teach him. Show him how to properly eat a pussy.

Your hips jolt, a low moan punched from your chest. On instinct, your fingers twist in the silk of his hair, fist a steady weight against the back of his head. He shifts, hands moving to grasp the back of each thigh, opening you up as his tongue licks over your cunt.

He lacks rhythm and just misses your clit on each upstroke, but you applaud his tenacity. The wet squelch each time his tongue dips into your hole, a tease that makes your hips jolt.

When you catch his gaze (his eyes so pretty as they look up at you, puppy-doggish, the blue swallowed by a central sea of black just begging for praise), your teeth catch on your lower lip.

“How's it taste?” you ask, free hand rising to pluck at a nipple.

He sighs against you, pulls away a moment to groan, “Good,” before diving back in.

For all his eagerness, you refuse to cave easily. He needs to earn your pleasure, learn for himself what makes you feel good. But he's observant, malleable. Internalizes your reactions, files each of them away until he hits his mark. Unfortunately, he doesn't understand the importance of consistency just yet.

His desperation keeps you engaged, indefinitely on edge. An anxious bird flitting between trees, never settling in one place—the nest is right there, swollen and sticky and so so sensitive, and if he'd just touch it—

You end his torment by grabbing his face, palms cupping his jaw, a cooing voice that says, “Here, baby.” A finger ghosting over your clit, a map for his tongue to follow.

A jolt shocks your spine when his lips seal around your clit, fingers dimpling the fat of your thighs, and he sucks. Mouth impossibly hot, drooling down the seam of your cunt. The hum of his groan leaves you fisting his hair between your fingers, pulling him closer.

You trap him there with both hands on either side of his head, orgasm unraveling from the base of your spine, a slow spill of sticky molasses. A long-played game of accidental edging wore down your resolve.

He whines against you, suckling in uneven spurts that, in any other circumstance, would leave you groaning in frustration, but his eyes stare up at you all wide and wet. Pleading. Starving for it.

(what a sweet, pitiful thing he is; how could you not wish to keep him?)

The dark miasma of your need rears its ugly head, a steady purr vibrating your ribs—

You cum with a sharp jerk of your thighs, a tightening of your abdomen, and everything burns white-hot in the blackhole darkness behind your eyelids. He grips you hard enough to hurt in an effort to tug you closer, and pleasure-pain grinds your hips against his face.

And then everything stops. You sag against the couch with a heaving sigh as he licks his tongue over your cunt, cleaning you much like a dog would a wound.

Your very own obedient little puppy.

“Good boy,” you sigh, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “So, so good.”

Behind him, you swear you see a ghostly tail begin to wag.

The following weekend, he lets you fuck him. You only ask the question once, phrase it as polite as possible lest his brain leak out through his ears—

(”Ya know, you're missing out on the whole sex thing.”

“Is it really that good?”

“Yeah. I can show you, if you want.”)

You seat yourself on his cock and admire the honey-silk stretch, the tautness of his belly beneath your fingers, the shine of his eyes as he stares up at you. His hands suspended in air next to your waist, body frozen as all rationale drains from his brain down to the pinpoint pleasure of velvety heat.

He cums after the fourth bounce of your hips—long, languid pumps that swallow him from root to tip. The squelch from your cunt overwhelms the hush of your bedroom, following each involuntary clench of your muscles.

It took nothing to get you wet for him: the mere thought of being his first, a bit of kissing, his fumbling touches beneath your shirt. A tangible devotion. A need to impress.

How pretty he looks spread out on your bed is just a bonus.

It's the cutest thing you've ever seen. How he reaches for your hand (he needs the comfort you suppose), bucks up into you, moans high-pitched and whiny. Head pressed back into the pillow, blushed neck on full display. You wish to sink your teeth into the thrumming pulse, taste blood in the back of your throat. A gift for the occasion.

But you don't. Can't scare him away just yet—not when you've made so much progress.

You stay seated until his breathing evens out and his eyes flutter open, and then you catch them in the reflection of lamp light: a line of tears that disappear into his hairline.

“Ohhhh, poor baby. It's okay.” Your hand cups his jaw, lips pressing soft to his forehead. “You did so well.”

“I didn't last,” he whines pitifully against your shoulder.

And yet you still ache. A bottomless pit of need, the thing inside you more ravenous than ever. An ache so great you could cry, too.

But you have plenty of time to get yours.

“Then we'll have to do it again, won't we?”

He grunts in response, big hands grabbing your hips. The air thickens as if your bedroom holds its breath, waiting on a decision.

When he rolls you onto your back and crawls down the bed, your legs part on instinct.

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casenjoys · 1 month ago

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DEEP INSIDE

— sub! old! leon s. kennedy x f! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: grinding, thigh riding, riding, whimpering, hand job, overstimulation, handcuffed... bondage? dacryphilia, tits sucking.

A/N: I hate it when I have to feed myself,, I need to know if there's any old! sub! Leon fic out there, give...give... also I'll write for RE2 Leon soon just don't know when but I will. For now, I hope u guys enjoy old! sub! Leon.

You can see through him, Leon's not that good at hiding himself. Through that frown and that agitated look, you know how expressive he actually is. Face full of sorrow after hearing every bad news, eyes showing concern when someone gets hurt, he tries to hide, but you can see it.

Most people show indifference towards Leon, he hardly has a stable live life, and as he grows older, his yearning for love growing stronger despite his tongue speaking the opposite.

You step into his life and get him to follow you like a dog. Despite his intimidating look, you can see a flicker of vulnerability under those eyes. His younger self never dies, just hidden under the rough layers of what this world had done to him.

You reach out and manage to see that side of him, giving him gentle kisses and kind acts, you look so sincere, so full of affection when he's with you. Leon goes speechless sometimes, acting like a shy puppy when you say something nice about him, he tries to brush it off with a sarcastic remark or some bad jokes, but you touch his heart the way no one else could.

Same goes with sex, some might think he'd be this rough-around-the-edge guy, the look on his face makes it look like he can give you a good time and calling you princess while manhandling you on the bed.

It was like that at first, but you want to see that side of him, the young Leon who used to be so passionate and obedient.

So here you are, grinding your wet cunt against his aching cock, your nail gently sliding his foreskin down, revealing his cute tip leaking just as much as you are. His hands tied behind his back, squeezing and pulling on the bedsheets below.

Leon groans, head tilting back and eyes rolling up, you can see his Adam apple bobbing as he tries to swallow his moans. Leon thinks moaning aren't for older men like him, he's embarrassed, ashamed of being so vulnerable after hiding himself for so long. He wants to act tough, to let everyone know they can't kill him, but it seems that you've broken it.

A long whine squeezes out of his throat — high pitched, breathless and needy. He looks at you through his squinted eyes brimming with tears as you stroke his cock slowly, your hips matching your hand movement as you grind on his bare, hairy thigh.

“Shit— Shit— Mngh!” Leon frantically curses out, hips bucking up to your hand, trying desperately to get you to stroke him properly. “Fuck, fuck! Y-You can't—”

His head rolls all the way back, and you can see his face turning like those anime girls that some guys watch to goon too. Cum trickling out like a fountain, white globs running over your hand, warmth enveloping you as they trail down to his balls, and on the sheets. Honestly you'd play with yourself when looking at that too.

So you did, you took a quick picture of his blissed out face, before resuming your pace on his cock. His cum makes things so much easier to fuck, wetter sounds fill the room with glee.

“No, de-delete tha—aaah...fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—”

He grits his teeth, drool dribbling down his chin and stubble, you can't help but lick it off, trailing to his lips for a sloppy kiss, prying his mouth open so you can hear more of those hidden moans. He looks so different than usual. Brows furrowing upwards as you two lock lips, feeling you bite into his lower lip, soothing it with your tongue and sliding said tongue inside his mouth, swirling around his.

Leon cries, mumbling something about you going faster. He's so cute, trying to threaten you and taking control, yet you're not the one being tied up. You remind him of his place by squeezing the shaft, and your free palm rubbing the tip harshly, making his words turning quick into mewls.

Your own hips moving clumsily, you're so focused on making him cry, you leave your cunt aching and dripping so much. Leon feels how wet you are, and that just makes him react even worse, cock twitching and yearning to be inside you.

"P-Please—" He cries, hips buck against your palm. “W-Want you...t' feel it inside you...” Leon begs, he's pulling the sheets so hard it springs out of the mattress.

“Yeah?” You smile, biting down the juncture between his shoulder and neck, making bruises on his body. “I don't know, though. You seem content with just my han—”

“No, please!” He sobs loudly, and you have a small realization that you've never heard of an old man crying until tonight. “Need y' pussy... wanna feel your wet cunt... wanna make you feel good...”

He looks at you through his tear stained eyelashes, and the sight of him crying makes you want to tease him until he passes out, but that's for another day.

You give in, aligning your dripping cunt to the tip of his cock. You have to hold Leon's thighs down since he just keeps pushing his cock up to try and push it through.

“Relax.” You grin, and that sounds like a mock for him. Your smile falters slightly as you sink down on his hard cock, feeling the curvy shape of it bumping just right there against your weak spot.

Leon moans like a girl, and you force yourself not to moan along because it's not everyday you can hear Leon making all these heavenly noises. You breath out heavily, rolling your hips to take him deeper, finally seated on his cock, his pubic hair scratching against your clit.

You hold onto his shoulders and begin bouncing on him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet, occasionally letting out little grunts here or there. Leon gasps, jaw hanging open as his hips rut into your cunt like the pathetic man he is.

“Y-Yesss!” He's drooling all over, glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling while you bounce on him like never before. “Pussy soooo good! Mngh- hngh—!”

Your tits hover close to him, going up and down rapidly. He can't help but lean forward and take your nipple into his mouth, sucking it like a baby. You groan at that, Leon has never looked so cute sucking a woman's tits like this, lips wrap firmly around the perky bud, cheeks hollow and inside, his tongue is going wild over your nipple, flicking it and rolling it. He keeps his mouth occupied by going back and forth between your breasts, until you pull him back by his hair, earning a moan and a clear silver lining of drool connecting his lips and your tits.

“Can't hear your moans when your mouth is busy, Leon.” You say, resuming your rough pace.

His arms begin to struggle, he knows how to untie himself, but he can't really think when he's this deep inside you, inside your hot womb and in your grasps.

“Hngh! Can't—!” His hips snap up against you. “Can't hold it, pleasepleaseplease! Wanna cum...wanna fucking cum!” He begs shamelessly, the little pride left in his body has shattered into pieces as the wave of lust consumed his mind. All he can think about is releasing his hot load inside you.

“P-Please, pretty please—” He's straight up ugly crying now, snots running down his nose as his face tensed up, his wrinkles visible.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum inside—” You pant out, eyes half lidded and looking at him with such a mesmerizing gaze, he can't help but kiss you — but, you instantly push his face off, tugging on his hair one last time to hear his delicious scream as his loads fill your empty womb up, and your pussy tightens around him, his fucked up face is enough to make you cum.

God, he's cumming so much, filling you to the brim with white streaks leaking down where you and him are connected.

You pant, untying him lazily as you lean on his body. His wrists burned from the impact, yet he raises his shaky hands up to hug you close, sobbing a bit more before eventually both of you fall asleep like that.

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casenjoys · 1 month ago

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Baby Bunny

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.

But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.

That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.

A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.

That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?

He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.

You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.

He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.

You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.

You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.

He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.

It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.

You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.

But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.

He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.

You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.

The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.

For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.

He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears.

He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.

Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.

To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.

His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.

At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.

His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.

His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.

“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.

You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.

“Daddy!” you gasp.

That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.

His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.

He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.

“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.

“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”

It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.

“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.

Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.

“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.

You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.

“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.

“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”

He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.

You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.

“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.

“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”

You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.

“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.

He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.

“You ready?” he asks softly.

“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.

He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.

You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”

“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.

“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go.

But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.

“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”

Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.

“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”

That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.

Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.

“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”

You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.

“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.

He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.

He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.

More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?

“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.

Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.

“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”

You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.

He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.

You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.

You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.

“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.

“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.

“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.

You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.

“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.

“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.

“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.

Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.

“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.

You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.

“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.

It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.

He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.

“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.

“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.

He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”

You nod and look up at him lovingly.

“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.

“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.

He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

3K notes · View notes

casenjoys · 1 month ago

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FAVORITE CHILD

— dad! leon s. kennedy x f! daughter! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: incest, reader is mentioned to have siblings, spit kink, praise, slight breeding kink, choking, breath play, semi-public sex, pet names.

A/N: freaks.

“Shh, shh, princess.” Leon coos, one hand clasps over your mouth. He watches your eyes rolling up as he continues snapping his hips into you, practically making you lose control over his thick, slimy cock. “Keep your voice down. Those things your siblings are watching won't be enough to drown your pretty noise.”

You can't help it, how the fuck can you be quiet when your dad's cock is drilling inside you? It's his fault anyways! His fault who tempted you, who praised you, who favored you above the others. You can't help it if your dad is this sexy.

A single whine escapes your lips and, Leon doesn't want to risk having the rest knowing he's fucking his daughter on the bed he used to share with his wife.

His lips crash down to yours, muffling your screams and cries, but the sound of the bed creaking is increasing, he's so scared, just as you are. The idea of having sex in a room with your family sitting right outside is enough to have your pussy squeezing his cock. You don't know, maybe you want it, to see your siblings face scrunched up in disgust. But in your mind, you already knew that they would be jealous. Jealous that Leon is fucking you, not them. Jealous at how he's calling you sweet names. A tiny part of you wants that just to inflate your ego a bit more.

Leon is fucking you dumb, you don't understand why mom left him for someone else when his dick is right here! Big, thick, so alive and he can maintain for so long. You had been drooling for a man like this, and now you have it, you just didn't expect it to be your own flesh and blood, but you can't complain, not when he has been fucking the thoughts out of that little brain that he can grab and pull back to have your back arching.

“Dad—!” You cry, hands clenching the bedsheets, the look you're giving him is something he never expected coming from his daughter, but he loves it, he loves you.

He never doubts you, you're the favorite child for a reason, even if you're now old enough not to care, he always make it like a competition between you and your siblings, and you won every time.

And every time, he rewards you with his dick.

“Shit, my princess is squeezing me tight. Hngh— Honey, are you scared? Your siblings won't know, baby.” Leon whispers, rutting up until his tip kisses your womb. “They don't get to see this, sweetie. It's just between us two, right, my special girl?”

He calls you special with a purpose, you know that. He puts you above others, pleasing your needs not only financially but sexually as well, he's better than anyone you've met when you were out there surviving all by yourself.

Now, all you need to think about is his cock, and how much you two will go tonight.

With the sounds he's letting out, you know he's going to risk your sleep just to fuck you full. You could've expected that, you've been away long enough to leave him aching and frustrated, of course he's risking it.

Like, you two are having sex with your family sitting out in the living room to watch TV right now.

“Sweet girl. My sweetest puppy, god, your pussy is made to fit me.” He praises you, never once stopping and instead keeps thrusting into you. His grip is firm and tight, you can feel him shaking from how much he's feeling. “My perfect pussy that belongs to my favorite girl.”

Leon chuckles, looking at your fucked out face. He grabs your chin, prying your tongue to stick it out with his thumb pressing down on it.

“But of course, you can't prance that title around your sibs, can you? They'll know, baby. It will ruin the surprise and our...secret time together.” He spits in your mouth, thick glob running down your throat, you can taste his uniqueness, the degrading act mixing with his praises are making your arousal doubled.

You can see his satisfaction when you drink his spit like fine wine, trailing fingers around your neck, he squeezes it just enough to have you see stars and your hole clenches.

“My perfect daughter—” He grunts. “—with the sweetest cunt, you're so perfect...” He kisses you again, restricting your airflow just a bit more. Leon can feel your breath rapidly going to try and find a way in and out, through his lips blocking yours and his large hand around your throat.

Leon's pace never falters, he only seems to go even rougher on you, it's like he's begging to be seen with how much sound you two are making because of him.

He told you to be quiet, but he's the one making the bed creak. Leon doesn't give a damn really, your tight cunt is a drug so addicting that blinds his rational thoughts. You just lay there, shivering and skin flushed, hot to his touch. You're too good, and Leon doesn't know if he should be proud, do you take after your mom? Or him with the whole being too attractive thing?

Nonetheless, he's got to have you, he can't share this lovely girl to anyone else. The thought of you even wanting to have a boyfriend would be enough tk have his dick pound into you just to remind you that daddy's the best.

“D-Daddy, I-I can't...” You trail off, words disolve into nothing when he slams into a practically good spot, tip nudging your fleshy wall. “Hngh— fuck...”

“I know, baby.” He moves to your clit, circling it with his finger to get you higher to your climax. “I know. Come on, princess. Be a good girl and—”

“CUMMI—mph!” Your scream is cut off with his palm, Leon groans, feeling your juice washing over his cock as his hips repeatedly thrust into you, his little moans slip out, high pitched with needs as he sucks in a deep sniff of your hair. His eyebrows furrow and he releases himself deep inside you womb, filling you up the way you like it.

He doesn't pull out, staying there just to feel his warmth seeping inside you. He's also afraid some would leak out, he wouldn't want that.

But, he knows he has to eventually. Slowly pulling out, the tip of his cock connects to your pussy by a thin trail of white cum, then more starts pooling out.

“Bred you good, huh, baby?” Leon huffs out a laugh, playing with the cum that's been leaking out. Meanwhile, you lay there, panting and flushed, getting yourself back together piece by piece.

You feel his lips on your sticky forehead, with a small murmur of "good girl". He stands up only to pull you along as well, pushing your panties up back to its place.

“Want to join the others downstairs?” He offers, and laughs when you gave him a deadpan look. “Alright, princess, we'll stay here just a bit longer.”

With that, he hugs you close and kisses your cheek, whispering praises to you, compliments he only gives you and no one else.

1K notes · View notes

casenjoys · 2 months ago

Text

━━━━━━ ✧˖° 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍’ 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

‎ ‎ [ 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

female reader, inclusive language. minors dni. slightly dead dove.

kinks: daddy kink, dirty talk, leon is submissive, oral sex, cum eating, rough sex, face sitting, one mention of leon in panties, masturbation, mentions of mommy kink (not with reader), protective leon, anal play, panty stealing, fingering, creampie, some humiliation, cumming untouched, light dom/sub, kinky soulmates <3

warnings and triggers: fauxcest, age difference, leon is a perverted old freak, reader is a camgirl and does only fans, dubcon if you squint, noncon fantasies, leon is extremely pathetic and is simping hard, slut shaming, mentions of intoxicated sexual acts, sexual blackmail, reader is kind of a bad person, porn addiction, one mention of drug use, alcoholism, mommy and daddy issues

word count: 9.2k

porn with plot, slight alternate universe.

He’s too old for you. You’re too good for him. Whatever weird thing that’s going on between the two of you - that’s all it can be. Roommates. Friends. And even then, Leon knows that it’s pushing the limits of what’s acceptable.

→ You sell nudes for a living and Leon is the hot, older man who lets you move in with him. He’s the sweetest pervert you’ve ever met.

It starts, because you need a place to stay.

Leon hardly knows you. He knows your name, yeah, and he knows that you have a great rack. Perky tits and a pretty smile, lips that are always pink and glossy. You smell good, and one time you reached around him to grab a straw on the bar top and he felt your soft body press against his, and -

Okay, all Leon really knows about you is that you’re hot. Really fucking hot, like a girl from the porn he used to watch, back when he really hated himself. Don’t get him wrong, he still does harbor deep feelings of resentment for everything that makes him who he is, but it’s not as bad as it used to be.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

He met you at a bar. His bar, and by that, he means his home away from home - the local fucking bar, a few blocks away from his apartment actually. Every good drunk knows it’s mandatory to have a bar they can get to without driving, because every smart drunk knows that in order to properly drink to their heart’s delight, they’ve got to have a safe way to get home. See? Leon called himself smart - he doesn’t hate himself nearly as much as he used to.

But he also just hasn’t figured out the whole Uber thing. Oh well.

Leon, his bar - right. You’re always fucking there. Leon doesn’t understand why, because it’s a shitty place, with phone numbers scribbled on the back of the bathroom stall doors. Once, before last call, Leon swears someone followed him into the bathroom and asked if there was a glory hole. Or - maybe he followed someone into the bathroom and - doesn’t really matter. There’s no glory hole at this place, and it isn’t until after you move in, that Leon realizes you only came to this bar so much because everyone was paying for your drinks. Leon was paying for your drinks. Smart girl.

You’re a lush, that much is true. You drink a lot, and you can’t handle your liquor - but that’s part of your appeal. Just a little. It’s one thing, for a little slut like you to drink like a grown man and not show any signs of it, but that’s not you. You drink dirty shirley temples and cherry coke and jack and your eyes get misty and you slur your words and Leon always has to walk you back to your apartment that you share with three other girls. But the best part about drunk you, is that you’re always asking to suck his dick.

You’re my friend, you told him once, even though Leon doesn’t really agree with that. But fuck it, right? He could always use friends. Especially friends that are as hot as you.

Makes the other guys at the bar jealous, when you show up every Friday night with your stupidly small purse, not big enough to even hold a wallet, just lip gloss and bubblegum and, Leon, you think they take Apple Pay? Leon doesn’t fucking know, and it doesn’t really matter, because he’s paying for your drinks anyway. Can’t figure out Uber, you think he knows what Apple Pay is?

That’s how it starts.

You show up every weekend to a bar you don’t belong at, take a seat next to Leon who always arrives before you and is half drunk by the time you get there, and the rest of the night, he buys your drinks. He doesn’t know a lot about you, that’s true, but you do talk a lot. Chat his ear off. Nothing important ever comes out of your mouth, but you overshare a lot of details that mean nothing. It’s cute, and it’s not like Leon’s got anyone else to talk to. It goes on like this, for months, until Leon finally asks you what you’re doing at this shit hole in the first place.

You blink at him, fake lashes a little crooked since you fixed them in the bathroom. Oh, right - Leon knows you’re a little slut because you sucked him off in a bathroom stall. There’s no glory hole at this place, no - but he put his leather jacket on the ground so you didn’t bruise your bare knees when you let the head of his cock bruise the back of your throat.

“I live close,” you explain, looking at Leon like a clueless little kitten. He swears your nose scrunches up, so fucking cute, and then he downs the rest of his drink before the way your makeup is smeared around your eyes turns him off.

Leon thinks differently of you after you swallowed his cum. After you did that. Not that he slut shames or anything, but - what you did was kind of slutty. He feels bad about that thought, even if it turns him on, so when he walks you home that night, he tells you he’s not a creep, that you can trust him - he’s a cop.

Not that you needed that information to trust him. You’re a little naive, and you’re obviously old enough to drink, but Leon wonders what’s wrong with you. Girls like you should be on dating apps, getting guys your age to buy you dinner or take you to the movies. Or looking for men even older than him, to spend money on you and buy you those heels with the red bottoms. Leon doesn’t remember what they’re called, just that ball busting porn seems to center around that brand of shoes.

You shouldn’t be blowing strange older men in gross bar bathrooms. He thinks about how long it took you to tie a cherry stem with your tongue and how he had to pay attention like it was the coolest shit he’s ever seen, and he feels annoyed all over again - but at the same time, a little charmed?

Anyway. You’re practically a stranger. Leon doesn’t even know what your pussy looks like when you move into his apartment. It happens so fast.

One night, you come to the bar looking like shit. There’s no lip gloss on your lips, just some dry looking color and for the first time, Leon understands what overline means, and your eye makeup is smeared around your eyes, and your hair is - not done? God, Leon is the most judgmental bastard in the world. A hypocrite too, judging you like that - since last night he spent about four hours jacking himself off to porn of girls who look just like you. So much for a porn free lifestyle. It's your fault he broke his porn freak streak.

With his non dominant hand, since the other was preoccupied with jacking his cock off - he typed up, spelling errors and all, exact features of your body to get better results. He was dedicated.

Yunggbh bslut gets fucked by old sdaddyh, for example.

Some results did come up, by the way. Last night was a good night. Anyway.

He asked you what was wrong, and you sniffled, demanded a vodka lemonade, and told Leon your troubles. Here’s what went down:

You acted like a little slut. Which, in this case - meant you were just being yourself. It’s okay, baby, Leon remembers saying, As your friend, I’m being honest. Okay? You just couldn’t help yourself, and that’s okay. God, it’s like the blind leading the blind. Leon, obsessed with a girl much too young for him, with scummy, dirty, awful, perverted thoughts about her, pretending to care about her problems so she might touch his dick - telling said girl that it’s okay she fucked her roommate's boyfriend, because she was just being herself.

It’s kind of beautiful. Meant to be, in a kinky, weird way, Leon thinks, ordering another drink for you and himself. Anyway, the point is - you have to find a place to stay, and you’re not sure where to go.

Leon, shit faced, says you can live with him. And that’s how it happens.

────

You get under his skin.

You’re insane, annoying. Smoking hot. Leon didn’t know they made girls that look like you in real life, thought the women he saw in porn and online had to come from a factory somewhere, but he doesn’t see a shipping label anywhere on your body. You’re a little rude, although when someone is as hot as you are, society calls you bratty. Well, Pornhub does. Maybe not society.

Leon can complain all he wants, but that’s actually not something that’s annoying to him - Leon likes brats. Has watched enough bratty stepsis porn in his life to be okay with it, at least.

And anyway, it’s all his fault. Leon hardly knew you when he asked you to move in, which was one of his most pathetic moments. Just a drunk mistake, but how dumb are you, to move in with a man you don’t know? Sure, Leon has paid a small fortune for your drinks over the last few months, has walked you home, listened to you babble about dumb reality shows, assured you that he was a cop, and he knows what color your nipples are - but maybe that was just a long term, elaborate plan to get you to trust him so he could…traffick you or something. Fuck.

You’re so goddamn naive. But, hell - maybe he is too.

You’re a distraction - you come with a big, red warning label that Leon didn’t notice when he brought you home, because how could he? You might be a walking red flag, but you’ve covered that flag in enough pink and glitter that it’s impossible to see the true color of it.

On purpose? Leon’s not quite sure. All he knows, is that he can’t escape you.

Can’t escape the girly mess you leave all around his apartment in the form of little socks with tiny cartoon characters on it, the mugs you collect that take up space in his sink. Can’t escape the smell of your sweet perfume, the way it lingers in his car and on his clothes.

And that shit is really long lasting, because he just came home from the bar and he couldn’t even flirt with any women. Tried to get the number of some blonde in an attempt to distract himself from thoughts of you, and all she had to reply with was asking how old he was, and to tell his girlfriend that she has good taste in perfume.

Bitch. I don’t have a girlfriend, Leon wanted to say, but didn’t know how else to describe you. Even to himself. What can he say? I’ve got a little twenty something year old living in my house. Yeah, she lets me fuck her sometimes, but she’s not my girlfriend. It sounds bad to him, and he's the one living it.

Because that’s the progression. Yeah, Leon let you move in, and now there’s pieces of you all over his apartment, his car, his mind. Feels like you’re literally under his skin sometimes.

Tonight, he gets home, kicks off his boots, hangs up his leather jacket - and he runs a hand through his hair. Leon is tired. Tired of working so fucking much, tired of pretending like he has a life outside of his little thing with you, annoyed that when he was about to score with that busty blonde milf she threw the fact that he smelled like perfume in his face and tried to humiliate him - and he hates that he liked that too. Made his dick chub up a bit. What the fuck is wrong with him?

You’re not in the living room, so Leon figures you’re in your room - and he avoids that door. Likes you and all, just doesn’t want to deal with you right now. Besides, you could be filming, because - oh right, did he forget to mention? You make amature porn of yourself and sell it for money.

Yeah, that’s partially why Leon hates his life so much. You bring out the worst in him, bad habits and all. It’s just porn, Leon, you really don’t watch it? You’re so fucking old, I swear.

Of course, now he does watch it, but you're such a little brat - Leon's been looking at porn since before you were born.

And, yeah - he does think that little fact is hot.

Leon’s pretty sure he’s got blisters from how much he whacks off nowadays. Imagines you in your room, and sometimes presses his ear against the door when you're filming something. Can hear you, the little beep of your camera, the sound of your pussy, so wet while you rub yourself off and post the video for men even more pathetic than Leon to buy and -

Alright, alright. He can’t pretend like he’s not subscribed. He is. Feels a weird sense of intimacy, knowing that the mattress you lay on when you stuff toys inside of yourself is his, that the walls that your moans echo off of are paid for by him, that the cup you drink water out of after deepthroating a pink dildo on live chat is his, gifted to him by his aunt but. Whatever. He notices every curve of your perfect body, that stupid little Playboy bunny belly button ring you wear. He'll jack off in his room, then he times leaving his room, hand still salty with his spunk, to meet you in the kitchen while you're still in whatever sexy little outfit you filmed in.

“Thirsty?” He'll say, pretending like your ass cheeks aren’t hanging out. He’ll reach around you, grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “What are you wearing? It’s cold out. You need me to turn the heat on?” He’ll ask, as if he didn’t anonymously buy you that outfit from your wishlist. He’s such a fucking sick bastard.

But tonight - you’re not in your room. Leon can tell, because the light is off, and normally you’re awake this late, watching movies or dirtying up his kitchen that you won’t even bother cleaning. He won’t accept your money for rent, because he’s not that pathetic, can afford to pay for this place - but he thought you'd at least pick up after yourself. Instead, you leave messes everywhere that Leon has to clean, after he gets off work. Doing laundry naked, which you do, probably once a month, makes up for it. But sometimes you shrink his clothes.

And anyway, knowing you’re in his home, lazy and freeloading, probably playing with your pussy while he fights the urge to shoot himself in the head at work - it kind of turns him on. He’s got no clue why. Imagines you forcing him to fuck you or else you’ll tell mom and dad on the way home from work so he doesn’t drive his car into upcoming traffic and end his miserable existence right there. Porn brain. Thanks to you. Do you know what you’re doing to him?

You’re in his bed. You’re in a pair of purple panties that are the perfect amount of tight and your shirt has a weird picture of a stuffed bear on it. Leon’s half hard already, but he pretends like he’s annoyed. “Why are you in my room?” He asks, standing in the doorway. He waits for you to move, but you don’t. Of course you don’t.

Instead, you spread your legs, turn off whatever you were watching on his television. Probably deleted all his recordings too, because he’s old enough that he still does that. Has cable, that is. You asked what that was once. Leon got so hard, he almost cried when he made himself cum in the shower.

“Lighting was better in here. During sunset, you know,” you say casually, as if he’s supposed to know what that means. And then - oh. He does. You filmed in his room? You spread the lips of your little cunt and rubbed yourself to orgasm on camera on the phone that Leon added to his phone plan in his bed, and -

He pretends to be cool about it.

“Alright,” he says, sitting beside you in his bed. He leans against his pillows, watches you sit up and push your messy hair away from your face. Leon is pretty sure he sees a wet spot on your panties. Not to mention, the bed sort of smells like…pussy. It’s delicious. Gross, in a way that makes Leon lick his lips and fight back the desire to pull you up his body so you’re sitting on his face. He wants that, to taste you. Has only got to do it once, but wishes you’d make him do it everyday. Force him to. He probably needs medication.

You shirt is see through, but you break his imaginary boundaries and cozy up to his side. Grab his arm and lift it, tuck yourself against him and then place his arm around you. It’s hard to believe you’ve known each other less than a year, that you’ve only lived together for a few months. “Where’d you go tonight?” You ask, and Leon wonders if you get jealous. Knows he does, when you put on your slutty little outfits and go out with your friends.

Knows his cock got harder than it did when he went through his Viagra stage, which was before he met you, when you brought your friends over and teased him in front of them. When a pretty redhead, your bestie you said, laughed at him and then asked for a ride in a cop car which he can’t do, unless he wants to lose his job, and he doesn’t, because he wants to keep you and -

“Bar. Almost hooked up with some chick,” he says, trying to appear…like anyone but himself. He can’t tell if you’re jealous, but you throw a leg over him, definitely feel the bulge in his jeans, but you don’t say anything. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to cuddle with roommates? Not to fuck them? Probably not, since they didn’t tell you not to move in with strange men who have fantasies about younger women controlling their lives. Anyway, Leon’s winning here, why should he complain?

“Why didn’t you?” You ask, tone bratty. Should get smacked in the face for that, instead, Leon just gropes your ass.

“She thought I had a girlfriend. Smelled your perfume,” and because he can’t stop nagging, he’s old, he adds, “Because you’re always spraying it in my car and I told you not to,” and you laugh. Well, giggle. It’s so sweet and so cute and your nipples are hard against him, and Leon just lets out a deep breath.

“I knew that perfume was long lasting. Need to write a review on the Sephora app. Anyway, Lee,” and since when did Leon say you could give him that nickname? He groans. “You can fuck me, if you want. Since I ruined your hookup,” you offer, pulling yourself onto his body. You’re straddling his hips, and then you take his hands, slip them under your shirt and place them on your perfect tits. Leon moans, because he’s pathetic, bucks his hips up and loves that you’re already so wet. He can feel the heat from your cunt through his jeans. You’re ready to go. Ready for him. He can see your arousal on the fabric of your panties.

He’s only a man, okay? He takes you up on that offer, because of course he does. Tonight, he wanted that woman that looked like she wouldn’t mind a bit of mommy play, but everyday? Leon wants you. He takes his clothes off, takes your clothes off, imagines all that stepsister porn shit in his brain while he rails you, because he’s broken, sits up and maneuvers you so you’re under him, fucks you so hard your head hits his headboard and wonders idly if you’re filming this for whatever little hustle you’ve got going on. Secret cameras exist. You’re a pro, really, you are, and you scratch his back and suck his neck and call him Daddy, and Leon likes that but not tonight.

“You got any siblings?” He says, one hand by your head, balancing his body so he doesn’t crush you, the other gripping the headboard. You tighten your legs around his hips, smile a little goofy, and keep his cock nice and snug and tight inside of you. He feels your walls hugging his cock.

“Yeah,” you say, and Leon wonders if you check his porn history. Same wifi and all that. Can people do that? Because you say, “A stepbrother.”

Leon cums inside of you, paints your insides with his seed and when he pulls out he uses that dumbass bear shirt to clean you off. He goes to shower, feeling manly for banging his hot, young roommate, when you call out, “Can I have my lace panties back? The ones with the white hearts on them. They’re pink. Think they’d look cute for the video I wanna film,” but Leon cuts you off. Opens his shower door, turns the water on and stands outside while it warms up.

Quirks a brow. Pretends to be clueless, wonders why you’re just laying in bed still while his cum is probably sticking to your cervix.

You laugh, sit up in bed and toss your dirty shirt into his hamper.

“I know you took them from my laundry basket,” you say, but you’re not judging. You’re cool with it, and ultimately, that’s why Leon likes you so much. Girl of his dreams and all. Leon feels comfortable with you. He’s never felt like this around anyone. You're the least judgmental woman that Leon has ever met.

The shower is hot now, but he walks to his closet and opens his sock drawer, grabs the panties that you’re asking for and tosses them to you on the bed. You cackle.

So much for limp dick Leon. He jacks off again in the shower, all thanks to you.

────

Honest truth? Leon has never lived with a woman. Not like this.

He says it’s hard to live with you, because he’s a negative bastard, but he really doesn’t know if it’d be like this with any woman. Isn’t sure if it’s normal for stuffed animals to cover every square inch of the house, doesn’t know if all women sit on their roommate's bathroom counter and get their little toe marks on the mirror when they do their makeup, because his bathroom lighting is better. One of these days, Leon swears you’re going to ask him to switch rooms with you, and he honestly doesn’t know if he’d be able to say no.

You’ve lived with him for six months now.

Today, Leon’s off of work. And you? You’re driving him crazy.

You’re ruining his couch, drenched yourself in coconut oil after your shower and you’re completely naked, drying off on the couch which really means just destroying the leather. And Leon’s dick is hard because he accidentally sat on your bunny stuffed animal, and you smacked him on the arm and - yup. It’s that easy these days. He's that easy for you.

Doesn't hurt that you're naked and shiny.

“Do you have an Instagram, Leon?” You randomly ask, while he sits on the ground of his own living room since you’re hogging the couch. He’s flicking through channels, leaning against the end of the couch where your feet are, and he swears you're purposely bumping your cute, pink painted toes into his head. Ruining his hair, you little brat.

He makes no move to change seating position though. Too busy dealing with the emotions of realizing that he’s upset you haven’t called him Lee in weeks.

“No,” he says, scoffing because he’s a drama queen. Probably picked that up from you. All he can think about is the fact that you smell like a tropical vacation, one he’s never taken, and that you’re all oiled up and so is your pussy because you shaved. He could slip right in. Taste you, feel you melt on his tongue, bend you over and rub the head of his dick through the oil on your thigh and fuck you in your ass -

“You’re so old,” you reply, sitting up. Leon turns his full attention to you, sits on the couch, loves the way your stomach has a roll and that you’ve got stretch marks on your tits yet you’re so young and so hot and so tight in the way that only women your age are. Don’t get him wrong - he likes older women too. It’s more about the personality of a woman then the looks that get him going, but you? You’re every wet dream he’s ever had come to life. Put the girls in the porn he watches to shame.

He wants to lick your pussy. Instead, he says, “Can I see your account?”

Leon plays dumb. He’s got an Instagram, no pictures and his user is rookiecookiecop, but he only uses it to jerk off to pictures of girls in bikinis that look like you. He doesn’t get it, all this talk about don’t objectify me from girls your age, when all you lot do is show your body off online in skimpy clothes. Begging for attention. At least you make money off of it, link in your bio and everything.

To be fair though, sometimes Leon logs on and watches fridge organization videos, or loyalty test street interviews. Podcast clips, depending on the algorithm of the day. God forbid he accidentally finds one of those Republican blonde chicks hot. You can’t tell someone's political affiliation just from their bikini pics, but a mistake like that will fuck up his Explore page for sure. But they're entertaining enough, all those videos, while he’s warming his dick up with a hand in his pants in his bed at night.

You hand Leon your phone, and your page is cute. Coffee everyday, pink hair clips and little keychains on your purse and lots of cleavage and little skirts and friends just as hot as you. Pictures of the dinners Leon has taken you out to, or when he drives you in his car somewhere, or when you watch a movie together. His arm is the only thing showing in these photos, of course, but his chest feels full of something like love, because he’s a pathetic idiot loser pervert, but it’s kind of nice you want to document your time with him. His arm looks sexy too. His new protein powder must be working.

A lot of guys comment on your stuff, and then Leon can’t help but ask, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? Why do you type in all lowercase?” You laugh at the second part, scoot closer to him, take your phone back and set your phone on the coffee table and place a hand in the middle of his chest to push him down. You shrug, before climbing up his body, settling on his face.

Your confidence - it’s fucking sexy. Treating Leon like you own him. You sort of do, he’ll admit it. He wants you to know it too.

“‘Cause I got you,” you say, possibly the most romantic thing Leon’s heard in fifteen years. “You're such a good friend. Take good care of me. You don't judge me," and then you add, "Lick my pussy, Daddy?” And Leon does. ‘Course he does. You’re his roommate, his crush, the girl of his dreams - but most of all, you’re his baby, aren’t you? You give him hell, need his protection, live with him and he provides for you and -

He sucks your clit into his mouth. On his face, you cum three times, all from his tongue which makes him feel pretty good. You’re the only girl he knows who is so willing to have her ass played with, his perfect little slut, so he fingers your hole and nearly gets a charley horse in his bicep when his arm tenses up keeping you in place in his face. It feels good, holding you down and prodding at you. He wants you to squirt, but he’s not sure he’s got the skills for that quite yet.

Probably needs more practice. He’ll ask you for some more later.

But Leon’s pretty content right now, smothered under your pretty pussy, two fingers knuckle deep in your ass, your soft skin suffocating him because you’re right about the oil, you feel baby soft. Which works, being his baby, because you keep calling him Daddy and Leon loves it so much. You moan like he’s the best mouth you’ve ever had, which is sweet, since he hears you get yourself off in your own room constantly, and you get much louder than you are right now.

You don’t squirt, but you’re satisfied. Thank Leon for the orgasms and his enthusiasm (ouch) before walking off to your room. You don’t offer to return the favor or anything, but it’s okay.

Leon came in his boxers, untouched. Forget all that shit he saw online about how to fix a dick that won’t get hard. No need to cut out alcohol, no need to take magic pills, no need to eat healthy or workout less or stop porn.

Apparently, all Leon needed was to meet someone like you.

Phew.

────

“There’s no more alcohol,” you say one night, cutting up strawberries on the kitchen counter top with no cutting board. Leon’s got to ask about the way you grew up - it’s like you know nothing about living as an adult, but who’s he to judge? Your immaturity works in his favor. He, and he knows it's sick, wants you to rely on him.

“Okay,” he says, mood a little sour from yet another shitty day at work. Another shitty day in his brain, so bad he sort of thinks he should look in his bathroom cabinet and see if those pills a doctor prescribed years ago for depression might still work. “Go buy some. You need some cash?”

You snort, which is unattractive but cute, and Leon feels a little better just being around you. You’re eating fruit salad for dinner, and even though he bought the groceries and he just came home from work, you don’t offer him any. Makes his dick stir, at your selfishness. He needs therapy, badly. But a quick fix, he realizes, can be found at the bottom of a liquor bottle.

He just can’t believe all the alcohol in the apartment is really gone - just figured you stopped looking after checking one cabinet, but. He can’t take that risk. It’s a Friday night, anyway.

“Wanna come with me to the store?” Leon asks, shutting the fridge door after he sees nothing on interest. You nod, and then you hand him what he thinks is a strawberry, but it’s just the leaf part. You want him to throw it away, so he does.

“Yes,” you say, so excitedly it actually almost makes Leon smile. You like him, want to hang out with him, want to be around him. Someone like you - sweet and pretty with a pussy that makes more money than his brain and his brawn, and you want to spend time with an old fuck like him. It’s flattering, honestly.

So he drives to the store. Leon doesn’t open your door to the passenger seat, and you get all upset, huffing and sighing until Leon asks what’s wrong. “You didn’t open my door,” you bitch, and he rolls his eyes, hands you his phone that’s already connected to the bluetooth because he knows you, and he knows you want to play Katrina, Sarina, what is it again? Sabrina Carpenter? Yeah, that’s it. Leon thinks she’s pretty cute.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” Leon answers, maybe a bit too rudely, because you don’t have a snarky comment back like usual. Instead, you just dramatically look out the window while the new Britney Spears sings about trying out fuzzy pink handcuffs. Drama queen.

You go to a corner store, because Leon doesn’t want to deal with an actual grocery store right now. Not when it’s dark outside, not when you’re in an outfit that you can’t even bend over to grab a basket in without your whole ass showing. It’s hot, shows a lot of leg even in the car, but Leon cares about you and he has a jealous streak, even if he got off last night to the thought of someone who wasn't him giving you the fuck of your life (while he watched and played clean up boy), so he opens the car door for you and takes off and holds out his jacket so you don’t flash anyone on the way out of the car. You smile a little.

“I’ll buy you anything you want,” he teases, because it’s the cheapest 'date' in the world, and then you grin. There's a little lip gloss on your teeth, and Leon wants to lick it off. “Cigarettes?” You ask, teasing right back. Heard Leon’s drunk and coked up rant last month, about how unsexy it is when women smoke.

As if he didn’t, in his youth, ask someone a woman to put cigarette out on him. He’s got mental problems and he knows it.

He tells you no to the cigarettes, puts his jacket back on, walks you inside the store and lets you go nuts. He picks up a basket that’s falling apart, stuffs it with too much junk and too much alcohol, and he’s a really bad person because he’s so much older than you, should be showing you good habits, but the honest truth is that he doesn’t have any. Not one. Can go months without eating a piece of broccoli, okay? He only buys healthy shit for you, like the fruit.

He walks around to find you, can see the way the other men at this corner store are looking at you, and it makes him sick - because he wonders if that’s how he looks. Is it? Like a wolf, licking his chops, ready to pounce on poor Red Riding Hood? The fact that he even remembers that fairy tale sort of makes him embarrassed, so he focuses on finding you in one of the aisles, where you’re looking at the calorie difference on powdered sugar donuts or chocolate ones. You settle on an apple pie scone thing, put it in the basket.

“You’re an alcoholic,” you comment when you look in the basket, a little too loud, and Leon forces out a laugh. People are looking at you both, probably wondering why you’re shit talking him, or why you’re even standing together to begin with. He wonders if he looks old enough to be your dad. Hopes he doesn't, but maybe he does. People look your way, but Leon ignores them, knows you’re trailing behind him on the way up to the cash register.

Everything is fine. Normal. The smell of your perfume lingers in the air and the sound of your little heels on the ground are comforting in Leon’s ears. He gets his ID ready while he waits in line, as if he really needs to show it with his greying hair and the lines on his face when he smiles. But then -

You shriek. Leon turns around so fast, and when he realizes what happened, he drops the basket he’s holding on the ground and looks to you. You look so scared, and it’s all happening so fast but Leon realizes what’s going down and he feels an anger he’s never experienced in his entire life.

He feels like a bad guy all the time, true - but the fact is, he’s really not. Sexual deviance aside. He had dreams of serving his community, wants to help and wants to do what’s right. He’s done good for so many people in his career, and just because he has a crippling porn addiction and an Only Fans model living in his home doesn’t mean all the good he's ever done didn't happen - or that he doesn't have an ounce left of it in his body.

Leon doesn't like what's happening, and he's not going to stand for it. Fuck no. Not when you're so upset. Some loser just smacked you on the ass - and this time, it wasn't him.

“I recognize you,” a random guy says. Ugly, reeking of marijuana and something stale. Since you moved in, Leon’s sense of smell has changed. So used to vanilla and floral and expensive and sweet that anything bad is extra noticeable now. You've changed his life. “You’re that girl, hey, John,” he calls out, and his buddy turns around. “She’s the girl I’m subscribed to.”

You’re getting recognized at the gas station. The men standing there know what your pussy looks like, know what your nipples look like, know what you look like when you cum. Leon looks at you, and you’re about to cry, but he knows violence isn’t going to solve anything. He thinks fast, but he’s always been good at that. Leon steps towards the guys.

“Subscribed to what? You want to explain to me what the fuck you're talking about?” He asks, and you grip his arm but he shrugs it off. Hears you tell him to let it go, it’s not worth it. But Leon’s not going to do that. No, he’s not ashamed about what you do - doesn’t think you should be either. Thinks these two punks, two guys your age that are so fucking stoned they don’t know they’re seconds away from Leon pulling the cop card and calling someone to drag their ass to the station for a drug charge.

But every cop knows - better to just scare them. So he does.

“I’m her father, and you just smacked her ass in front of me. In public. Some man, huh? You want to tell me what that subscription is? I should beat your ass just for looking at my daughter wrong."

Leon doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Words just fly out, and he scares the fuck out of the two guys so bad that they both drop their shit and leave. Leon pays for the stuff you want, a hand on the small of your back while you try to calm down, and then he opens your car door and helps you with the seatbelt, feeling oddly protective.

But once he sits on the driver's seat, starts the car, you break down in tears. Sobbing. Little sniffles, rubbing your face full of makeup onto the white sweater you have - and Leon knows that it’s ruining it. Staining it. He’s the one that washes it.

“Sweetheart,” he says, the nickname rolling off his tongue. “It’s,” he doesn’t know what to say. “It’ll be okay. I’m sorry I didn’t hit them, or beat their ass, or whatever you wanted me to do but,” but you let out a wail, and undo your seatbelt, throwing yourself over the center console to wrap your arms around his neck.

“That was so scary,” you say, and Leon feels so fucking bad. “It’s one thing when it’s virtual, you know? But in real life. It's just awful,” and you cry and cry and cry, and all Leon can think of is - duh. It’s horrible that this happened to you, makes him want to shoot both of those dicks in the, well, dick - but you had to know that real people were looking at your pics. Your videos too. Truth be told, Leon should’ve asked this a long time ago but - where are your parents? Do you seriously not have a decent adult to guide you?

“I know, baby,” he says instead. You go back to your seat, makeup smeared, and Leon knows he’s falling hard for you because he doesn’t think it makes you unattractive. He still thinks you’re beautiful, just. A beautiful raccoon.

He takes you home. Carries the bags from the store. You sit on the couch and pull a blanket over your lap, one of your fuzzy ones that are too small for Leon to use but fit you just right, and he puts the snacks and some of the liquor away. He’s about to take a swig out of a bottle to calm his nerves, when he hears your voice from the living room.

“Leon,” you whimper. He walks over to you immediately. “Do you subscribe to any other girls?” Your voice sounds like you’re worried about what his answer might be, and he doesn’t understand why that’s something you’re worried about right now.

You know that Leon likes you. Look at everything he does for you. He's made it clear that even if you didn’t let him fuck you, he’d still let you live here - but at this point, you really could afford your own room somewhere. You’re friends. Why would it matter if he subscribed to -

Wait.

Other girls?

Does that mean you know that he’s subscribed to you? He flushes red, flustered as he sits beside you on the couch. Hands you a little bottle of vodka to swig out of that he carried in from the kitchen, and you do. Don’t even make a face or anything. Maybe you are related. You hand the bottle back.

“I know you subscribe to me. Rookiecookiecop. Who else could it be? You've said that before when you told one of your stupid jokes.”

Leon shakes his head, takes a swig of his own. “Could be anyone. Lots of cops. I don’t,” but he gives up. Shakes his head again and taps a finger on the bottle he's holding. “Fine. I do. Just you, though. Why’re you worried about that?”

You shrug. You look so sad and small all of a sudden, and Leon just wants to wrap you up in your stupid blanket and rock you to sleep. He doesn’t know if it’s fatherly, or a feeling a boyfriend would get. It doesn’t really matter - he just wants to take care of you.

“I just don’t know why you don’t like me like that. Like…more. I know that you’re hot and you’ve got your shit together,” and as these words leave your mouth, Leon genuinely thinks you’re pulling his leg. That you’re teasing him. Because - you’re out of your mind. You think that he’s got his shit together? He can’t even walk past your laundry basket without grabbing a pair of your dirty panties. He let a random girl move in, he secretly subscribed to her online porn page. He’s a depressed alcoholic who shouldn’t have access to a gun for his own mental health, and you -

You’re beautiful. Sexy. Caring, when you want to be. Leon loves you, but he doesn’t know what that means. Doesn’t know what that looks like. So he scoots closer, puts the bottle down on the coffee table, wraps one arm around your shoulders and then places his other hand on your thigh, so he’s all in your space. Your fake eyelash is falling off but he doesn’t even care, really. He presses a kiss to your nose.

“You’re so wrong,” he whispers, because that sums it up. “About everything. You have no idea, the things you do to me,” and he’s going to regret saying this, but he has to let you know. Would feel guilty, keeping this truth from you. “You’re too good for me. You see that, don’t you? Could do so much better than all this. I can’t be your boyfriend, because you deserve someone better, baby. Okay? But I’ll be what you need me to be, as long as you need it. Just you,” you nod. You understand. Leon doesn't even need to finish his speech.

You kiss him, and you’re good at all sex acts but you could use some work with your kisses. Too much saliva, that Leon slurps up because it's you, and this is the closest he's ever gotten to a woman spitting in his mouth. Your teeth knock into each other for a second. Leon loves it. Reminds him of his first kiss, and his dick swells up in his pants. “Lee,” you whisper against his lips, and Leon missed that nickname but he still cringes, cups your face with one hand, uses his thumb to try to clean some of your makeup up. “Want you to be Daddy tonight.”

Leon can do that.

────

You like to call Leon Daddy, and he gets it. Understands the appeal, because anytime he sees a woman over thirty with big tits he wants to call them Mommy. There’s something comforting about choosing your own authority figure - to just relax, turn your brain off, have someone else make all the rules for you.

Leon wouldn’t consider himself dominant. Sometimes he worries he’s only two porn categories away from having a foot fetish, truth be told, because he just likes the feeling of someone else taking control.

And, because he paid for your pedicure last month and you let him look at your toes close up to see where his hard earned government money went. You're so sexy to him, you bring out new fetishes - and Leon thinks that's beautiful.

He loves your bratty behavior. Loves that you tease him about his drinking habits and his porn addiction and his age, loves that you disregard his needs unless you need something from him, like cash to get your nails done or to buy something dumb at the mall. He’s pretty sure that even with all the money you make, he’s the one solely funding your coffee habit. You’re selfish, and rude, but you’re so hot and you’re so young and Leon likes that about you. Loves that he can take care of you, be your Daddy, someone you trust and look up to - even when he bends to every single whim you have, and sometimes feels like your bitch boy more than anything else.

Your dynamic gives him a chance to be the pathetic loser he wants while also tricking him into thinking of himself like a winner. Because yeah, you might wear his balls around your neck because even when you don’t sleep in his bed, he lets you keep your stuffed animals in his bed all night with him just in case you come in there if you have a nightmare, but you’re dumb enough and sexy enough that everytime he gets a chance to play with you he feels like the man. Other men can only dream of living the kind of life he lives with you, and for the first time, Leon really does feel like he’s a winner.

He’s such a loser.

You wanna be babied tonight? Leon will do that. He carries you to his bedroom, eats up the way you compliment his big, strong arms, is supposed to be in charge but you tell him exactly what to do. How you want him to fuck you, how many fingers you want him to use when he opens you up, if he’s allowed to give you any hickeys (no, and it’s just a slap in the face at this point because Leon’s never marked you up - but you’ve done it to him, make it impossible for him to get laid by anyone else).

“Daddy,” you say, when Leon gently takes your clothes off, positions himself between your legs and softly licks up your slit. You’re not even wet yet, which means this Daddy thing is more than just sexual for you. Truth be told, Leon did always figure you had no relationship, or a strained one with your father. On Father’s Day this year, you did a 24-hour broadcast on your camming account, and Leon’s pretty sure any woman doing that has daddy issues that run bone deep.

But who’s he to judge? Imagining that he’s your father can get his dick so hard, sometimes he can literally cum without touching himself.

“Yeah, baby,” Leon assures, licking your pussy and running a finger lightly around your clit, teasing before he drags his finger down and pushes it inside of you. Your back arches off the bed like it feels so fucking good, and maybe it does, but Leon doesn’t know how it compares when he knows you shove ten inch dildos in your pussy on camera. He’s bought you one before. “Daddy’s here.”

“Fuck me,” you say, like you changed your mind about the foreplay. You’re wet enough now that Leon doesn’t feel bad for fucking you without getting you all properly good and wet, so he positions himself on top of you, spits in his hand and rubs it on the tip of his aching hard dick, because yeah, he’s already that turned on, has a hero complex and the fact that you were all over him with tears, well - he's a cop for a reason.

And then he pushes his dick inside of you, and you cry and scratch his back so hard that he hisses - but he knows he just stretched your tight little cunt out without much warning. It's what you wanted though, what you demanded from him, right?

“Tell me something sweet,” you beg, and Leon looks down at you, taken aback. You’re always the flirty one in bed - saying filthy, sexy things. Bending yourself into crazy positions, but right now you really seem upset. Maybe you’re more emotionally disturbed than Leon thought. Maybe you really do have problems that lead you to live this kind of lifestyle. Maybe Leon’s a worse guy than he thought -

But you being so vulnerable is making his balls tighten, much faster than usual, and he fucks you so brutal and so rough and the only sweet thing he can think of really isn’t that sweet at all.

“Perfect little slut,” he manages to say, pulling out so he doesn’t cum inside of you. "You make a real pretty cumrag." If you’re filming tomorrow, he feels bad about giving you a creampie - doesn't know if you can get it all out in time to get a close up of your pussy. Not fair to you. So he pulls his dick out before he can cum, jerks himself off for a second before he busts his nut all over your sweet little stomach and that sexy belly button ring. He’ll help you properly clean it when you're both done.

Leon sucks. He didn’t get you off. Came in about five minutes. But -

“Lick the cum off. Finish me off,” you whine, so Leon does, licks his own seed off of your stomach, your skin warm and soft under his tongue. To be honest, he doesn’t taste that bad, which makes sense why you’re so obsessed with sucking his dick. Protein powder for the win again, he supposes. Leon cleans you off, and then he licks you out. You cum from his tongue pressed hard in your hole, his thumb circling your clit.

He’s Daddy, so he carries you to the bath and lets you tease him about being a grown man in a pink bubble bath. It’s your bath bomb that you're both using, but, yup, you guessed it - Leon likes the humiliation. Dick half hard and pressing into your back while you two relax together and raise the cost of his water bill. You love your baths. Take one almost every day.

“You feel better?” He asks, rubbing up and down your soft thigh. Leon kisses your head.

“Yeah,” you say, a little happier than before. “I really like you, Leon. You take such good care of me. You’d make a really good boyfriend.” You’re silent, while Leon absorbs the compliment that gets rid of about two years of emotional trauma inside of him. Then you break the silence.

“Why’d you tell those guys you were my dad?” You giggle, and Leon shrugs. He’s embarrassed, because he doesn’t even know himself. “First thing I thought of,” he admits, and you lean back against his chest. All is right in the world. Until -

“Don’t get mad, Leon, but,” and then you tell him. You tell him the truth.

That you’ve secretly been filming every single time you've had sex with him. You explain that it gets the highest views, and you always crop out his face, and now that people know he’s your dad they’ll probably tell the internet forums, because after all, you are a very popular creator. So it works out, you say, that Leon pretended to be your dad today. People online are into that kind of shit, you tell him, and pretty please don’t be mad.

Leon, he’s - he doesn’t even know. Doesn’t even know what to fucking say. You’ve been secretly filming him fucking you, putting it online and -

That’s a crime. That’s literally a fucking crime. Men go to jail for that sort of thing. For a long time. Leon is speechless. He feels betrayed. Violated. Even worse, you pocketed all the money you got from those videos?

You must take his lack of talking to mean he's not mad. So you start lathering yourself in soap, chatting about the pink flip phone you want Leon to buy you, one you saw on eBay a few weeks ago, so you can get one to match his artifacts. Leon wants the bath to swallow him down the drain.

“I,” he says, pulling away from you just slightly. “I don’t,” he can’t form a thought. “No.” But he says it like a question. “You know that’s illegal, don’t you? I could lose my job.”

And then you turn to him, eyes big, the makeup almost all washed off after crying. Your lips are in a pout, and you rub your ass against his cock. You're manipulative, Leon sees it now. You're smarter than you look, and Leon feels queasy and...a little scared?

“Daddy,” you say, and he guesses you're back to that now. You know how to play him. Forget selling pictures of your body - you need to make a fucking online course to teach women how to get away with murder.

“Please?” Another pause, and you lick your lips like you’re thinking and it makes Leon want to groan. “I mean, if you told anyone, they’d know it was you. Plus, if you really did get fired, we could probably just make more videos for more money. It’s not a big deal.”

Leon feels like he hates you a little bit. Feels like he walked into a trap, a prison with his eyes closed, and now he's stuck.

But somehow, by the end of the bath - Leon steps out with his dick painfully hard, dries the both of you off, and pulls his phone out while you cuddle up to him in bed. He buys you the phone you asked for, all while you read the comments and requests from your viewers and subscribers out loud to him.

“Put your dad in panties,” you read, literally throwing your head back in a laugh. Leon is red in the face, but the truth is?

He’s never been so hard.

And he’s pretty sure you do have access to his porn history -

How’d you know his favorite category was Blackmail?

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casenjoys · 2 months ago

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Sugar ‘n Spice, Turn Off the Lights

Sub!RE6!Leon x Dom!F!Reader

word count - 1.4k

tags - MDNI, not proofread, porn with plot (kinda?), BDSM, cock cages, leg humping, collars, leashes, marking, begging, overstimulation, submissive re6 leon kennedy, whimpery and needy leon kennedy, masochism, cock tease, p in v, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, light cock stepping, dom/sub

Leon is one of a select few of the highest ranked agents in the newly-established Division of Security Operations. Through his heroic feats and courageous exploits into BOW-infested locations, he’s rightfully earned the respect of peers and politicians alike. He’s the president’s formidable sword, an icon that rookies look up to but little do they know who and how he really is behind closed doors. It’s assumed that he’s in charge at home as it is at work but it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Everyone that knows him is also aware of you as his wife, a framed image of you kept in his work desk. He doesn’t hesitate to bring you up in conversations, either to shower you with praises and adoration or to use you as an excuse for missing out on after-work drinks in town. Leon wasn’t one to shy away from showing everyone that you’re his, always keeping a hand around your waist when you walk together outside or running his fingers up and down your spine when standing in line for something. It’s assumed that he’s in charge at home as it is at work but it couldn’t be farther from the truth as he’s currently naked on the floor of your dim bedroom, sensitive and desperate to cum; your foot is pressed firmly against his caged cock, the poor thing straining against its metal confines. His hands are behind his back, his fingernails digging into his palms to stop himself from grabbing on to your leg and humping his poor cock.

“Such a good boy for keeping this on for 2 weeks,” you coo as you dig your heel into his aching balls. You’re like a goddess as you lean down and sneer at him, cackling at the delicious torture you’ve put him in.

“T-Thank you, mistress…” He still has it in him to be polite, such a cute puppy.

You press down harder, knowing Leon loves it most when the line between pain and pleasure blurs. He whines and whimpers, shivering underneath your foot; his confined cock kicks beneath the sole of your foot, the reddened tip drooling more precum. Satisfied with the display of submission he’s been putting on for you so far, you take your foot off and set him free.

“You’re my good puppy, aren’t you Leon?” You ask whilst petting him, ruffling bedraggled blond strands even more.

“Y-Yes,” he breathily responds.

You move your hand to cup his face, a thumb stroking his pink cheeks. He nuzzles into the warmth of your touch, eyes closed as he soaks up the gentleness you’re showing to him as a sign that he trusts you with whatever you wish to do with him.

“Then hump my leg,” you command. “And don’t stop until you’ve cum two times.” You punctuate your words with a tug to his hair, eliciting a whorish moan from a mess of the man beneath you.

“Ma’am yes ma’am.”

Wasting no time, he clung to your leg and began madly thrusting. He expected to last a little longer but his sensitive cock barely lasted for more than 20 seconds, his milky essence painting your skin in a goop of white.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he whines through the overstimulation. His hips stutter though that does not stop him from his frenzy.

“It’s okay baby, you were always a pathetic mutt anyway.”

This time, he manages to make it past a minute before shooting his second load. He leans against your leg, catching breath but you know he’s far from tapping out– his cock’s still hard.

“Can I please be inside you now, mistress? Please?” he asked so sweetly, looking up at you with glossy eyes and pouty lips. “I’ve– I’ve been good, haven’t I…?”

You already know the answer to his plea but you pretend to think for a moment, keeping him on his toes.

“Go crawl to your collar.”

If he was a mutt, his tail would’ve been wagging madly as he crawled on all fours to the black leather collar laid at his bedside table.

The accessory fit snugly around his neck, perfectly suiting your submissive husband. You settled in bed, slowly inching back to the headboard whilst tugging on the leash as Leon crawled up to you. Besides the lust-induced haze evident in his stormy blue eyes is adoration and unquestionable love; he’d die for you– kill even, if worse comes to worst. He’s loyal to a fault for his darling wife, that’s no question; if she commands him to jump, he’d ask how high. Sure, you terrify him sometimes especially when you’re pissed off, but that’s fuel to the fire you set in his loins– he’s got a penchant for intimidating women.

“You know what to do next, pup.” You command, emphasizing your words with another strong tug.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, parting your legs wider to make space for himself as he settles in between. Leon dives tongue-first into your sopping heat, lapping up your juices at a mad pace; his feverish tongue is a temperature contrast to the cold air of the room, making you all the more sensitive. His stubble adds a prickly sensation as he moves to press wet kisses at your clit before giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck, Leon. J-Just like that,” you encourage him. “You feel so good…”

You push his head closer to yourself, muffling a needy whine from him. As he nipped and licked, his whimpers grew louder and much needier. He wanted to see you come undone, locking eyes with you as he humped his terribly hard cock against the mattress for stimulation while he sucked.

“Holy shit,” you breathed as you gripped his blond tresses harder and rocked his face against your pussy. “S-shit, baby– I’m going to cum–”

Your words only spurred him on, getting his face even more soaked and glistening with your essence. As you reached your high, he dug his nails into your thighs as he licked and drank every single drop you had to offer to him. Your husband twitched and whined, reaching a release of his own as his sensitive cock dribbled out pathetic spurts, it’s a miracle that he’s still able to cum.

“Let me fuck you mistress,” Leon begs as he kneels, trembling hands resting on his thighs. “Please, it hurts so bad… wanna cum again…”

He glances down at his cock twitching against his abdomen, a steady flow of pre flowing down the shaft. The sight is nothing short of sinful, promiscuous even; his hair is rumpled, face glossy with your cum with his pink lips curved into a pout as he caresses his hard cock, cupping his balls.

“You’ve been such a good pup for me,” you drawl. Still attached to your leash, he stumbles forward when you pull on it. “So I guess you can fuck me good, puppy.”

Crazed by the idea of finally being able to shoot his load deep inside you, he pulls you closer by your knee and lines himself up at your entrance with trembling hands.

“Make it fast or else I’ll change my mind,” you complain.

“Yes, master.”

He notches his spongy cockhead at the entrance, slowly pushing in until you locked your legs around him and made him go all the way in.

“Ngh–! Sweetheart, w-wait…” he whimpers as he needily clutches at your hips to calm himself down. He’s so sensitive, he’s sure that he isn’t going to hold on for much. “Might cum fast, don’t wanna…”

Leon’s words die at his throat, replaced by a high-pitched whimper, as he feels your walls tighten around him. Driven by uncontrolled lust and the need to cum deep inside you, he hovers above your body and starts plowing deep; each thrust is punctuated with a squelch and thud of the headboard against the wall, finally accompanied by your moans and his crazed whimpers.

“You’re so good to me, Leon– shit– this cock’s all mine,” you breathily whisper to him.

“Y-Yours,” he stutters. “All yours– ah!”

You press kisses to his Adam's apple that trails to the side of his neck until the sweet spot behind his ear, nipping at his ear lobe. Letting your possessive side out, you bite and mark up the pale skin of his neck with reds and purples before soothing the spots with your moist tongue.

“Baby, I can’t– I– shit–! I’m going to cum, gonna cum,” he rambles as tears stream down his cheeks. “Ngh–! Ah…–”

He’s only able to give 2 more thrusts before his hips stutter and twitch, pulling you closer to himself as warm ropes of his sticky release paint your walls. He holds you tight, keeping his cock inside you despite the overstimulation that borders on pain.

“Did you cum, sweetheart?” he asks while he catches his breath.

“No,” you hiss. Despite his embarrassment, blood fills his cock and he’s sporting another hard-on in no time.

NOTE - i'm not seeing a lot of submissive leon fics, especially older leon, in here or on ao3 so i decided to waste my time writing this to satiate the 5 thirsty people in need of seeing leon get slutted out. i was supposed to post this on my birthday like 3 days ago but i was too damn busy and tired so yeah -_- i'm not rlly having any ideas for fluff on the main blog so i'm going to breathe some life in here for now :3 also, i found this game called 'The Wolf Among Us' earlier and it's honestly so interesting!! like the story and the adult spin on fairytales is a cool concept and i'm hooked (started watching a playthrough from 11 years ago...). anyway, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!! this is also up on ao3 under the same title <3

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casenjoys · 2 months ago

Text

BUNNY LOVE !

pairing: leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

cw: smut, ddlg, daddy kink, innocence, piv, virginity loss, creampie, reader is a bunny hybrid

note: super insecure ab how bad this turned out wow… first time writing leon so whoever reads please take it with a grain of salt! older leon in mind duhh.. very disjointed n clunky sorry. hope it’s readable still. any interaction/feedback appreciated!! (works of rimqueen/rigorwhoring used as framework!)

For pestering Hunnigan with his dad jokes and unintelligent quips as it were, Leon receives instant karma in the form of shitty weather. Angels must’ve chosen her side today. He gets it. Worn out all his lucky stars, said all his prayers, counted all his blessings, no more good cards to play. Just Leon Scott Kennedy and his misfortune back to their old ways.

Made a fool out of himself, one-sided bickering making it seem like Leon’s some kind of looney. Only gets that Good job! when he’s within an inch of his life, has totally fucked up, or under the false pretense that someone was speaking to him. Back in the day he got ‘em as easy as pie. Pie but no pussy. Leon in a nutshell. Leon is the nutshell at this point.

Got his ass thoroughly kicked today to say the least—a blossoming bruise on Leon’s shin out of all places ‘cause he stubbed it on the coffee table, ran out of change in the cafeteria and lost a couple dollars, people outright refusing to laugh at his jokes and witticism. Plain disrespectful. Where’s the love?

Paperwork and office days are tough, man. Makes field work seem like the lesser evil here, and Leon nearly dies each time on duty. Least it makes him feel alive, as paradoxical as that sounds. Prefers fighting in B.O.W. infested domains rather than battling the confusing ways of social interaction. One he’s good at, the other? Not so much.

He’s got a girl waiting for him at home that is not much too keen on social interaction herself. Being locked up in the confines of his apartment and all. God, Leon feels bad. But you don’t mind. He thinks. You’re smart enough to know how to handle a door, could just open up and walk out if that were a problem. Leave him alone with no one but Matilda and the restless phantoms of his past haunting him to no end. Guess Leon will never really be alone in that way.

Makes it to the parking lot garage in a ratty umbrella. Leaves it in his trunk tucked away for a rainy day that might be tomorrow given Leon’s series of unfortunate events as of late. Vintage real leather of his jacket thankfully unscathed, same horsehide fabric Claire shoots him those nasty glares for. Sorry Ms. Hybrid Rights, this one was fullblood, it’s fashion. Lasts longer.

He is more worried about what you think in all honesty. Horses probably eat your kind in one big bite, so with that in mind Leon’s certain you’ll be on his side if the debate ever comes. Not that he’s especially knowledgeable about animals or hybrids either way.

Leon has sacrificed his Costco coupons for your monthly carrot supply. In turn, you bite his arms.

You came to Leon in a box. Literally. Ordered a package of… something. Not sure he wants to think about what was initially meant to be inside that package but let’s just say it was pretty damn big. A pleasant surprise when he unboxed what he thought he ordered, nice costume and everything, bit naked—Playboy Bunny sort of look—thought to check his bank statement if they charged him extra for that.

Only, he didn’t have the time to ‘cause you opening your eyes and blinking at him caught him rightfully off guard. Strange. Like a programmed robot. Not what he ordered but alright, a blindfold should do, but before he could finish thinking, you fucking hopped out and stumbled to stand up. Took Leon that long to realize that things went wrong—either he unintentionally financed a black-market sex trafficking ring by shopping there, or somebody switched out his package. Still haven’t gotten to the bottom of that yet. Maybe someday, likely after he’s dead. Blown his brains out ‘cause the suspense was killing him.

Of course, Leon being Leon, of course he was going to do the right thing. Call law enforcement to get you justice, lax on his assholery and capitalize Claire’s TerraSave hybrid rights movement, fund Billy and Rebecca’s hybrid shelter… key word: was. What he wasn’t going to do is explain what he was doing—more specifically what he was buying—to have this transpire. So like any normal, dignity-having, modest man, Leon decided to keep you.

(A secret.)

Whole thing had him contemplating if things were supposed to be this way—God’s plan or whatever; which entails Leon dying alone and fuckless for longer than a man should ever go fuckless. That’s just a crime against biology. And his dick.

Leon is lonely, okay? He’s old. Old and lonely and he can damn well buy a sex doll if he damn well wants to. Just his luck, his punishment due that it was an off-limits bunny hybrid. One that cannot be fucked under any circumstances. Doll was expensive as hell, too, sacrificed major funds that Leon surely will need when he gets the boot. Shit was custom made, designed specifically after an old flame and her red dress which should’ve been the first giveaway, really.

(Her name is unspoken in this household ‘cause Leon himself knows as well as anybody, that one mention is more than enough to send him spiralling. The only pull of the trigger, all it takes to fire the instant depression bullet through the endless barrel and if Leon wasn’t an alcoholic before, you best believe he is now.)

It was a horny mistake—let the head of his dick control him. No way he’s buying another one just to have it happen again and be walking around with two bunny girls hogging up every square inch of his apartment.

God, that sounds nice. But Leon is a good man. An aspiring one anyway, so he won’t. Won’t think about it. Honest. Will just sulk with his pussy-starved dick and balls that so desperately yearn to slap against some ass, empty themselves into a warm tight clasp. To impregnate a womb before the biological hourglass runs out, sends the last grain of sand into sterile territory. Missionary ‘cause he’s a sap nowadays.

…

Are you even human? Sure, you’ve got the body, put the ass in assets, thanks to the multitude of carrot cakes you’ve got him baking thrice a week. But you’ve also got your floppy ears, perky fluffy cottontail—and let’s not forget the bunny chompers. Leon’s felt enough of those. A very nice addition to his scar-littered skin are now the chewing marks irremovably indented onto his forearms. ‘Cause apparently you think Leon counts as a vegetable. He doesn’t mind. Really. It’s fine. He has not thought of filing your teeth down. Promise. Claire’s snippy, passive aggressive questions regarding Leon biting himself do not bother him.

(Leon has considered upping his biotin supplement intake in order to boost arm hair growth to hide them. Only time mama’s Italian genes have ever failed him.)

Oh my God, Leon. You look like shit!

Thanks.

What are those? Have you been chewing on yourself? Are you insane? Don’t answer that by the way, it was a rhetorical question. Jeez. Take your meds, Leon. They’re going to institutionalize you. Listen, I’ve gotta go, in the meantime you should cover those things up.

Claire—

Conclusively, it wouldn’t be wrong to fuck you. Immoral, maybe. Stupid? For sure. Tempting?

His dick rising like Jesus every time he’s around you speaks for itself.

While at it, Leon’s not even entirely sure that you aren’t just a figment of his imagination—a schizophrenic hallucination or something of the sort. He has been slacking on the meds recently after all. Could very well be that this entire thing is just one long-ass episode. Being a nutjob is par for the course with Leon as many would agree. As even his therapist would agree.

He has not yet given you a name. Leon ain’t good with those, whether that’s remembering ‘em or coming up with ‘em. Was thinking of Matilda as unoriginal as he is, but that one’s reserved for his trusty gun. Closest thing Leon’s ever had to a wife, she’s a real cougar, 7 years older than him. Or maybe he was the cub all along.

After taking on the role as a marionette for all these years, he is completely clueless as to how he’s supposed to manage this situation. Apparently the skills of controlling and handling things, let alone a crazed bunny, don’t come naturally for a man of Leon’s age, total fucking bogus by the way. Right now he’s just going with the flow—his so far unsuccessful flow—and seeing where it leads him and if that is down into another hole, well that’s just Leon, ain’t it?

Things between you and him used to be just fine before Leon got headbutted by a star-crossed streak, and now you’re resolved to being this stomping and pouting angry little thing, while Leon’s struggling to deal with his completely non-consensual attraction towards said stomping and pouting angry little thing. It’s a delicate balance—you get a sugar rush during the hours he so desperately needs to sleep, and Leon in turn struggles to keep the bulge in his pants down.

He does everything for you; cooks, cleans, brushes your teeth, appeases you with pets, buys you clothes, helps you get dressed up, cuts a hole in the back of each of your panties to make room for your tail. Yet you’re some sort of fucking rebel, a revolutionary. ‘Cause you insist on not wearing any. Which causes Leon himself a great deal of embarrassment when he has to continuously hide his boners around you.

Not that you even know what it implicates which then makes Leon’s dick even fucking harder because he’s a pervert. And the situation escalates from plain fucked-up to downright catastrophic. A torrential downpour of filthy, forbidden, absolutely out-of-question thoughts overflowing his mind. Much like D.C., shit just doesn’t stop. Evolves into a flood of fantasies and an obsession with someone (read: something) Leon should definitely not be having, but perversely allows himself to drown in. Can barely get any paperwork done ‘cause all he’s thinking about is stuffing you full. With his cream. Like a cannoncini.

Pull yourself together, Kennedy. That was last week. It’s not going to happen again. It’s not. It isn’t. Don’t worry, just have a drink—One. One drink. And everything will be—

“Daddy!” A weight in his lap. Plushness spilling past his fingertips. Floppy ears nearly smacking him right in the face.

Oh lord, his back.

“Shit. Fuck.” Leon bounces you up and down a little—adjusting his hold on you ‘cause he was very prepared for that. You’re climbing him like a tree and he hasn’t even gotten a chance to close the front door yet. “Uh,” great example he is, can’t even keep track of his own swearing, “you didn’t hear a thing, bunny.”

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, pouty lips brushing against the skin there. Thankfully unbothered by Leon’s slip-up.

“Daddy missed you more, baby.” He breathes in your scent, nuzzling your hair and finally getting to shut the door of the shitty day behind him. “You have no idea.”

Pulling back, you’re giving him these glossed over puppy eyes, staring up at him all curiously. Pretty ironic. Your pupils are so big Leon can see his reflection in them, wow, real nice. Really makes his wrinkles and eyebags pop in the overhead lighting. Claire was right, he does look like shit.

Shit doesn’t cut it, he looks like a pile of shit ate a second pile of shit then shat out a third pile of shit. Leon being the third pile of shit. If his therapist could read Leon’s mind he would say Leon, you’re spiralling again, take a deep breath and count to ten and let’s continue this total fucking waste of time and money.

(See, Leon’s doing just fine unmedicated. The screams of agony late at night are a part of the healing process, insists a voice in his head he’s named Kevin after a late buddy back in the cop academy. Not late as in dead, just Leon fucking things over as per usual. Friendship’s long gone—the real Ryman ain’t.)

Then you close them and lean in. Leon’s convinced you’re playing with him till you press your lips smack bang against his.

Oh?

He sees it, feels it, processes it, before he realizes.

Catches him so off-guard he nearly drops you, feeling around to get a better grip and ends up grabbing a handful of your asscheek and a handful of your tail.

“Hey.” Leon tries to remove you, detach your lips from his and it’s like peeling off an actively bloodsucking tick. Damn near impossible. “Where’d you learn that?”

‘Cause Leon did not teach you that. Sure he kisses you—everywhere but your lips, and they’re more of a peck, really. Once in a while (every night before bed) you get an earnest forehead smooch and that’s that. But that? That was a lover’s smooch. A boyfriend and girlfriend kiss. The beginning of a make out session. So who broke in and robbed your innocence under the fleetingly long hours of his workday? Taught you how to kiss like that? …Did they also steal Leon’s shit?

Reaching your finger up to press it against your lips, Leon receives a very impractical “shh” paired with a girlish giggle.

“Nuh-uh,” he lowers your hand, “tell me.” Using not his Leon voice, but his daddy voice which is a timbre lower and a tone sterner. “Tell daddy.” Seems to work, shake your little bunny boots so awfully Leon almost feels bad.

With a fallen face, you point to the TV screen through the open lounge. Currently airing… ad break.

Late bloomer, huh. Well, fuck. Hope Leon didn’t stir that up, incite your heat cycle or whatever by letting you watch the TV. Can’t say he knows the first thing about bunnies, but he wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what happened. That’s just ol’ Leon business—always the first to press the big red button, to walk into a trap, to situate himself deeper into the grave that he’s been digging for more than half his life. To fuck up.

At least now the fallacy of burglary can be ruled out. Though Leon coulda sworn he left Disney Channel on. He remembers dialling 24 before taking off for work this morning, prompting whatever kids watch nowadays. What he does not remember is leaving the TV with some Baywatch or Bachelor bullshit on, you know, the ones with the raunchy shit. Kissing’s probably the tamest action they’ve ever aired on there. Uh, common knowledge. Obviously. So unless Disney Channel’s the perpetrator…

You’re watching Disney Channel!

Oh.

Cinderella and that other guy. Prince Charming? Some felons they are, stealing your innocence like that. As a govvie, Leon will let it slide. Might’ve been your way of showing him that you proclaim Leon as your personal Prince Charming, but that’s just wishful thinking—well past his prince days by now, scruff and wrinkles and canities and all. Retinol, Tretinoin and whatever-the-fuck-noin don’t help with that. He’s tried.

See, initially, you insisted on calling Leon mama which was just a punch in the fucking gut. An inflicted testicular torsion, even. By yours truly. Made him so insecure he considered going under the knife and getting a haircut for quite some time after that, just to help you distinguish between man and woman. Leon then decided against it when you said you liked his hair out of the blue. First time anybody’s told him that. Still mulling over the plastic surgery part though.

The daddy situation was surprisingly not Leon’s idea. He may be the occasional pervert but no way in hell does it go that far. Impossible to get you to give the word up as well ‘cause you’re one stubborn fluffy little thing, so eventually Leon just went with it. Went and had a little too much fun with it. Has a visceral reaction to that word, just hearing it awakens something inside of him that’s so sinister even his balls get the heebie-jeebies.

He puts you down, lets you scamper over to the couch and lets it squeak! when you jump onto the sectional. Lying pancake flat on your tummy with your feet swinging in the air, watching vintage fairytales like it’s the most interesting thing since sliced bread.

You’re wearing his boxers. Okay. You put them on funky, right? That’s how Leon was able to feel your—

There’s a hole.

Of course there’s a hole. There’s always a hole. Whether that be a loophole, an asshole or a… boxer-hole to fit your ball of fluff.

He didn’t peg you to have the motor skills to use a pair of scissors yet. Well, on the bright side—you’ve no longer got an excuse to not help him around the house. Nah, that’s just mean. You’re a little bunny, Leon’s little girl, you don’t deserve that. Leon’s the one who wears the pants ‘round here anyway. Figuratively. He’ll make do of it.

“Daddy’ll get changed, okay, baby?” He shrugs off his leather jacket, toes off his dad shoes as some have insisted. “You just stay right here.” Leon speaks into the open air. ‘Cause you don’t even look at him, too engrossed with the antics of a Disney princess.

Leon returns in lounge clothes, bit later than necessary ‘cause he was not scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror like he’d do before a date. He did not brush his teeth and reapply his cologne and smooth over his hair, he did not spend an additional five minutes plucking off stray greying strands.

At least the newfound scent gets your nose twitching. In the blink of an eye you’re springing up like a slinky, hopping from cushion to cushion and once again landing on Leon. When he catches you his hands land on the peaches of your ass. God. He does not feel the heat between your legs when they’re wrapped around him so tightly and he does not let his mind go places it shouldn’t.

Sitting you on his lap—the normal way—Leon showers you with headpats and general pets, moreso in order to settle himself down rather than you. Pacifies your constant itch for physical affection though. Wool tufts of Leon’s cheap carpet are clinging to your fur, he picks them off, flicks them away into the horizon of his apartment. Poor baby, probably rolled around on the rug like a disheveled beetle while waiting for your daddy to come home.

Okay, fine. Sympathy pecks. That’s it.

Leon’s gut is already getting queasy from having you on his lap alone—queasy in a way that says he might not be able to keep his wandering hands in check. But Leon has enough self-control to not fall victim to the cradle-robber phenomenon. He does. Just loses his inhibitions from time to time, particularly around pretty young things. Pretty young, fluffy, bunny things shaped like you. You’re just too cute, terribly adorable, he could eat you up. In more ways than one.

After petting and pecking your head till your ears stand at 2 o’clock rather than upright, watching TV with you and failing to dodge the smooches you try to place smack bang on Leon’s lips every time you see a similar scene—he figures enough is enough. Damn Cinderella and her damn Prince Charming for kissing so much.

(Thank the Lord.)

Drunk off endorphins ‘cause no one’s ever loved Leon as much as you do—and you’ve got no clue what love even means—he indulges in you and your kisses. Leon’s not blushed in twenty years, let alone to the point where his ears are getting second degree burns. Probably looking more like a clown and less like your King Not-So-Charming.

His initial hesitancy of kissing you back wears off when you start letting out all these noises, cute frustrated huffs and puffs ‘cause you’re still new to the concept of kissing.

No tongue ‘cause God knows that will throw every last ounce of Leon’s dignity, morals, and integrity—everything he’s ever stood for—right out the window. So he lets you clumsily slot your lips against his until your jaw grows tired, until you’ve successfully raised Leon’s dick like your mouth alone is a conjurer of Viagra spells.

Then you snuggle up against his chest and fall asleep. Just like that. Blue balling men like it’s nothing. Okay. Looks like somebody’s been reading up on how to be a total fucking tease.

No idea when Leon passed out but he’s awoken by his own snoring, most likely ‘cause of the fucking hard-on that sprung up so fast there wasn’t enough blood flow left for his head. Hopefully his balls have gone back to normal as well, less painfully lonely and more… ballsy. Dick’s dead again, as is to be expected.

Might’ve been a dream.

Schizo. States a voice suspiciously identical to Claire’s in the back of his mind.

“Daddy.” You’re loafing in his lap, ears flat against your head as you stare up at Leon. Unorthodoxly close to his dick. Shit. Tilting your head, you keep calling out for him till the murkiness of his hearing clears out. “Daddy?”

“Princess,” Leon groans, tasting the sleep on his tongue, stretching his arms out before petting your head once again—in case everything really was a dream, “how long was I out?”

Raising your brows, you shrug and pout.

“Why don’t you wait in bed, honey? Dad’s—I mean, uh, daddy’s gonna…” Leon was hoping that would’ve gone unnoticed, too late when you’re giggling at his umpteenth slip-up today, “‘m tired, okay? Gonna help you.”

(God, does Leon want to help you—help you cum, help you make him cum.)

He sighs at his heart fluttering when you do what you originally do best, being a good girl for Leon and listening to every word he says. Not being a pissed-off and spiteful fluffy bun, no matter how cute it may be.

Feels like somebody’s lobotomized Leon with a needle of your fur, pierced through his skull and switched out the frontal lobe for tufts of your cotton. Swear he feels you inside on a regular basis—a mini you poking and prodding at his cerebrum like a call bell for attention. You’re living rent-free in his mind and in his house and Leon is powerless when it comes to you. Willfully enslaved to a ball of fluff.

It’s not the fact that Leon purposely overlooks the orange bottle wrapped up in this piece of paper with his name on it—it’s you.

The one driving Leon crazy is you and you know what? He is completely fine with that. Needs something to get his mind off the horrors and tragedies, focus on the simple pleasures of life. Like sex for example. ‘Cause soon he won’t be having any of that. Leon has not been having any of that for too fucking long now.

You’re all but his last shot.

All this thinking’s giving him a headache. Leon needs a drink. What time is it? Monday? 9PM?

Whiskey o’clock.

Pouring the drink down into the stubby glass, sight is about as disappointing as Leon’s soft dick. There is not much. The hell? Bottle’s so dark he can’t even tell if there’s actually nothing left or if it’s fucking with him just for the sake of it. Well, no worries, ‘cause Leon’s got an endless supply of—

…Nothing?

The worst possible outcome takes shape: an empty bar cabinet. Leon runs his hand over his face, settles at his stubble, feeling it disconcertedly. Only thing he’s thinking is what the fuck. Finishes the little pesky pint of alcohol—chugs it like water, doesn’t even feel the burn—and after the whole ordeal he is still thinking what the fuck.

What the fuck is Leon supposed to do now? How’s he supposed to pesticide away the invasive species that are his thoughts and urges to fuck your little bunny self into oblivion?

Tonight Jack Daniel’s was supposed to be momentary. A band-aid of some sort. Patch up more like wash away all the happenings of today. And yesterday. And the past 25 years of his life. One that he can then rip off, peel away the crusting scab beneath it and reopen the wound till it festers, patch it back up with 40% liquor filling the infinitely gaped lesion. The uroboros cycle Leon has come to know as coping.

Seems like the only thing he’s going to be filling is you. With… love, of course. With love. And a snuggle. Nothing more, nothing less. A morale safekeeping measure. Just a bunny and Leon embrace—that’s the extent of it.

Yes, Leon is a fully grown-ass man, 47 years of age.

Yes, Leon wants to be held like a baby at night.

Cuddled and coddled like his very being is God’s greatest gift, entire form smooth and clean and unscathed to the naked eye. Lulled to sleep by the sweet voice of an angel’s singing hymns that might just be the Devil in disguise because that’s just his luck. A comfortably overbearing presence, nonetheless—a personage blanket Leon is in desperate need of. Something to take the weight off his diligent shoulders.

But when your only seeming purpose in life is to save the world, you don’t get that. You get something between a nonchalant pat on the shoulder, a snobby dick in whatever hole the possessor deems fit, and a fuck-you if you’re unfortunate. What you’ll never get is a little fucking appreciation. Five minutes of fame, maybe. At most. Then you’re back to being pretty much no one. Just another forgettable face in the presidential bootlicker squad. That’s Leon for ya.

He is not conceited for wanting some affection.

(He is conceited for wanting some affection.)

Leon’s master agenda is to get you to spoon him. Shitty. Total shocker. Classic Leon. But by God will he fucking wake up decomposed if he walks touch starved a moment longer. Loneliness is actively disintegrating his skeletal system into fine grains of sand. Melancholy induced osteoporosis. All that’s gonna be left of him is specks of Leon-dust that you’re probably going to snort like coke ‘cause you got ahold of Pulp Fiction. Also ‘cause no one else is coming for him.

Can’t have that happen now, can he? You’re here, he’s here… two’s company or whatever they say.

Leon’s utilizing the last of his strength into letting the intrusive (instructive) thoughts go.

“Bunny? You up?” Leon knocks twice, creaks the door to his bedroom open like he doesn’t own the place.

With a ruffle of the sheets, you peek out from under them. Warm light of his bedside lamp casting this homely glow across your face, like a fireplace, makes Leon feel oddly domesticated—and you’re the pet here.

You stare blankly at him, like there isn’t a single thought running through that little bunny head of yours. Leon bets it’d echo if he gave a knock or two to the side of your skull, and that is immensely sexy. No.

He gets into bed next to you before something in his mind clicks, the mystery of the navy pile on the floor solving itself.

“Baby,” Leon’s trying to approach this matter delicately, sneaking glances at the discarded pair of underwear on the floor. His underwear that you’ve been prancing around in all day, given away by the unmistakable choppy hole cut to fit your tail. “You, uh… you leave those on the floor?”

“Accident.” It’s said simply, playing with your fingers above the sheets. Okay. Leon sees right through you.

“Now, you know that ain’t true, bunny. Remember the rules daddy told you about? Those still apply.” Hand dwarfing both of your cold ones when Leon stills your fidgeting, tries to squeeze the information out of you without giving you a mouthful. “Why’d you take ‘em off?”

…

“Uncomfy, daddy,” you mumble, still avoiding eye contact, ears back to being flat against your head.

“Uh-huh,” Leon says unconvinced, stroking his finger along the length of your unusually warm bunny ear, “they weren’t comfy, huh? So you just… threw ‘em on the floor?” Always complaining about your underpants, Leon’s underpants in this scenario. Too tight, too rough, too fast, too hard, too—naughty? “They’re just lying there, baby. We’ve been through this.”

“Sticky.” Is your argument.

“Sticky…” he repeats thoughtfully, squinting at nothing in particular and trying to figure out what the hell that could mean. ‘Cause rest assured Leon’s boxers are not sticky. Not on their own, and those were a fresh pair.

“They got sticky. When daddy was kissin’ me.”

“Hey, I was not—“

Oh.

That was real?

And that’s what you meant by sticky. Lord. You’re… naked. Pantless. Pantieless. Bare. Nude.

Sticky.

“…Yeah?” Leon breathes out hoarsely, a big horny lump building up in his throat as he speaks. Impossible to swallow, ‘bout as big as your tail. Wouldn’t be surprised if the lump’s somehow made of your fur as well. “They were all sticky, huh, baby? Daddy did that?”

“Mmm,” you nod, absentmindedly flicking against his fingers. “N’ swollen.”

Hearing you describe the way you got all sticky and swollen from Leon kissing you just about did him in. Planted him six feet under along with his dignity. Tout de suite. “You’re gonna give daddy an aneurysm if you keep talking like that, bunny.”

Or an orgasm—possibly both. Not that you even know which either of them mean and yep. You guessed it. Hard again. God. That is not why he came in here. Leon tries his best to be good, he loves you, but you’re just so untiringly hellbent on turning him into a dirty old man.

(More so beckoning out the already existing dirty old man inside of him. The one whose eyes linger just a little too long on each curve and outline of your body during bath time, the one whose hands accidentally brush against the plushness of your ass, the one who gives you feet rubs just to keep his hands occupied, the one who tickles you to feel another body against his, the one who deliberately feeds you large carrots to watch you struggle to fit them into your mouth.)

“Didn’t know what to do,” you continue, “so bunny was checkin’ what was wrong…” You’re not done? Just exposed your true intentions—you are plotting Leon’s demise.

“Checking?” Leon swallows hard, hoping you didn’t hear how loud of a fucking sound it just made, “how’d you check?”

“Touch. Touched.”

“…Touched what, bunny?” He asks even if he knows damn well what it is you touched. “You touched yourself between your legs?”

You shrink.

“Show me, baby.” Lifting your chin, Leon searches for your eyes and lets the perversion sink its venomous, infectious teeth into him. “Show daddy what you did.”

Judging by the anxious chewing on your bottom lip, you’re still a bit shy about the whole thing.

“It’s okay.” Leon lets go of your hands, giving you a heartfelt yet equally as unbearably horny smile. “Don’t be scared, alright? ‘S just daddy.”

If his arousal was slipping through the cracks of his tight smile, it mustn’t have been very obvious ‘cause you pull down the sheets, revealing your body to Leon. From the cutesy eyelet top with a teensy ribbon adorning the lace that cost him more than a pretty ugly penny, to your naked lower half. Jesus.

Your hand snakes down your frame, leaving Leon to picture his own hands in imaginary cuffs—for both of your sakes. Thinks he’s about to get the show of his life but you look over at him before going any further, like you’re not sure if it’s okay. Almost makes Leon want to shake you, finish the job himself.

“Go on, let daddy watch,” he says like he isn’t about to explode.

Fingers finding your pussy, you aimlessly rub away, movements as uncoordinated and unpracticed as ever and it’s the hottest thing Leon’s fucking witnessed. Producing sticky noises that bounce off the walls the way you should be bouncing on his dick. You let out a small whimper as your ears flop back up.

“Fuck,” he needs to know, needs something to stroke his ego if something is not stroking his dick, “were you thinking of daddy, baby? Thought of me when you played with yourself?”

“Maybe…” you reply so quietly Leon can’t tell if he imagined that or if it was something you actually said.

He takes it. Wilful hearing’s better than nothing.

“God, bunny.” Leon wants it to be his hand, his body against yours. He needs to rip off your flimsy top and replace your hand with his. “What were you thinkin’ ‘bout daddy?”

“Daddy. Without a shirt. Daddy’s cute without a shirt.” Only then does it click, the last piece of this lewd puzzle that creates the full image of you with your hand between your thighs.

“Think daddy should take his shirt off, little girl? So you can see him?” Leon is the dirtiest, filthiest man to ever exist.

And before you even get a chance to nod, he’s on it.

Leon’s never taken off his shirt so fast in his life, baring his torso so you get to see the battlefield—the war zone that is his body, cicatrices scattered about like cracks in old porcelain. Relatively tan porcelain ‘cause Leon’s making an effort to dump his vampirish habits lately, D.C. sun don’t do much though. “Still think daddy’s cute?”

You moan, loud, he takes it as a yes.

“Keep going, baby, don’t stop.”

“Forgot how to…”

Leon hasn’t indulged in Christ or anything revolving the man—much less his entire religion—since mama passed all those years ago, but right now he’s praying for the strength to keep his hands to himself. Passio Christi, conforta me, o bone Iesu, exaudi me… Uh, how the fuck’s it go again? Imperet illi Deus, my growing erection? Damn. Thyne dicketh shalt not rise? Thyne hands shalt not wander to—fuck this shit.

He needs to be inside you and he needs it now.

“Aw, it’s okay, bunny, daddy’s here to help.” Leon grabs ahold of your hand, bringing it up to his lips to place an earnest kiss to the back of it, quickly sucks the tips of your slick fingers till they’re dry. “Daddy’ll show you how it’s done, baby. How to touch between your legs.”

“Okay, daddy.”

“So fuckin’ cute, baby,” he pulls you closer, snuggling up against your side and spreading your legs wider, fingers finding your heat. Lets out the biggest sigh of relief anybody’s ever let out, Leon bets. Your stickiness clings to his calloused skin as he circles your clit nice and slow.

One hand gripping the sheets and the other Leon’s wrist, you mewl and buck your hips.

“Yeah?” He noses at your neck, inhales deeply till you’re squirming, ears flopping around. “Like it when daddy touches you like this?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble and his dick pokes into your thigh through his sweats like the fucking tower of Pisa.

Leon moves his hand again, palm cupping your mound and brushing against your clit as his fingers shift down to your slit, gliding up and down. Can’t help the low noise that slips out of him, can’t remember the last time he’s felt a pussy. “Gonna go inside, okay?”

Sliding a single digit inside, you gasp. “Oh!”

“That’s it, princess, just let daddy take care of you.” You’re sucking him in so tight Leon gets the notion your walls might be intent on getting his finger stuck there forever. To prevent that, he slips another one past your dripping entrance. Leon moves ‘em in and out carefully despite his raging need for you, meeting that sweet spongy spot that has your back arching.

“Daddy!” Poor baby, can barely get the words out through your moans. Leon tries to placate you with neck kisses. “Daddy, what’s happening?”

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, bunny,” he mumbles into your sternum, voice resonating against you, not letting his movements up, “just let yourself feel it, daddy’s got you. ‘M right here, baby.”

Legs kicking, back bending off the bed, thighs snapping shut ‘round his hand—Leon thinks it’s safe to say you’re cumming, first orgasm creeping up on you from your curled toes to your erratically flopping ears. “Ohh!”

Your walls contract, very obviously trying to milk what they think is a cock ‘cause they know no better. Against the heel of his palm Leon feels your clit twitching in tandem with your nose. Awfully adorable, might just shed a tear. Beautifully guileless you are.

“Jesus Christ,” Leon beholds the entire thing, your orgasm damn near rubbing off on him—no pun intended—dick so fucking pent up it’s going to take off like a rocket with the final destination being between your legs. “Such a good girl, baby.”

His brain practically short-circuits, thoughts disappearing like erased off a whiteboard. Leon’s heart rate is probably high enough to land his ass in the ER, organ pounding hard and fast in his ribcage the way his dick should in your—No. Self-control.

(Yes. Very much yes. Self-control went out the window the second he stepped foot into your secret session.)

Panting like you’ve just run a marathon—which, if Leon’s being technical, you sort of have with the way your legs were hopping away into the air like that—you bonelessly loll back. Limbs spread out like a starfish except for the rigid hand gripping his wrist, chest heaving up and down.

“Made such a big mess, princess,” that you did, slick pooling beneath you and completely coating his fingers. Leon could just… slip right in if he tried. Pull out and replace his digits with his dick. Just like that.

He should take things slow but the realization’s starting to dawn on him, you’re mature enough. Never connected the dots till now but he’s seen the sticky patches in your panties while doing the laundry, noticed the way you walk funny probably ‘cause of that ache between your legs. Leon would be doing you a favor.

(That is his dick speaking.)

“You trust daddy, don’t you?” He’s already peeling off your top, raising your arms and tugging it off your dampening body.

“I… trust daddy.” You’re doing that thing again. Looking at Leon in a way that turns him into straight mush.

Leon’s stomach is doing somersaults, flipping like a fucking gymnast coin. Heads and tails—nausea and arousal. Throw up and kill yourself or fuck the shit out of your baby girl.

Must’ve landed on tails ‘cause as bad as it sounds, he ain’t gagging or retching or itching to reach for his gun right now. But Leon’s dick is jumping like it’s warming up for something. Even God is scared of what that something may be.

“You do? That’s… good.” Leon feels a little sick still, can’t tell if it’s ‘cause of how overwhelmingly aroused he is or if it’s your naïveté—the way you blindly put your faith in him. He swallows the feeling, nothing he ain’t had before, seeing monster guts on the daily and all. Kind of used to walking around with a pit of unease in his stomach by now. “Daddy’s sweet little girl.”

Bringing his fingers slick with your essence on ‘em to your mouth, Leon nods for you to lick them clean.

And you do. Fuck.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby, but I need you.” Leon says into your throat to spare himself the embarrassment of facing you when he’s about to do such a depraved thing. “Gonna take care of you just a little differently, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

Leon pushes down his sweats and boxers while you blink at him.

“Don’t look, just close your eyes, bunny, take a deeeep breath and count to ten, alright? Might sting a little but daddy’ll be right here. Just hold onto him if things get… rough.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you take a deep breath, arms wrapped around Leon’s neck as he shifts to brace himself on top of you. Can feel you exhale onto his cheek, scratching yours with his scruff.

He springs his cock free, shit’s furious. Angry reddish tip after going so long without any action. Slicks his fist up and gives himself a couple of strokes.

“One.” Leon counts with you, forearm already cramping next to your head but he will be damned if he lets that stop him.

“Two.” He lines up the head with your lower lips, taking a deep breath himself, trying to not flatline.

“Three.” You puff out your cheeks, eyes squeezed tightly shut and face pulled into a grimace as Leon pushes forward.

“Four.” His dick is forced out. Okay.

“Five.” Leon tries again, you whine, snap your legs tighter ‘round his hips. “I know, baby, I know. ‘M sorry.”

“Six.” Shifting forward again, he manages to get an inch inside of you.

“Seven.” Is mumbled into your neck, an attempt to stifle Leon’s groans as he slowly but surely sinks inside of you.

“Eight.” He’s halfway inside, halfway ready to combust.

“Nine.” Leon pulls himself together, a quarter left ‘fore he’s stretched you out all the way.

“Ten…” You’re still making this puffed up little face, something between a blow-up doll and childbirth.

“All done,” he says finely and dandily like he isn’t actively resisting the urge to plow you into oblivion. “So perfect, bunny, look at that.” Leon nods to where you’re bumping uglies. More like his ugly bumping your pretty. Surprisingly without blood.

Peeling your eyes open, you blink down curiously before the discomfort sets in again.

“Daddy’ll be gentle, baby,” Leon kisses your face, everywhere he can reach, genuinely unable to stop his hips from starting to rock into yours. “Promise.”

“Daddy…” you’re moaning again, breathy noises spilling past your open mouth as you stare Leon right in his eyes. Thankful that the room’s pretty much dark besides the singular lamp so he doesn’t have to see his reflection in your pupils again—watch himself make the biggest, sexiest mistake of his life.

“That’s right,” he grunts, holding your body tight like a lifeline, “daddy’s your daddy.” Is the best Leon can come up with ‘cause his mind blanks from the way you’re gripping his dick so fucking tight. Might snap it in half and leave it stuck inside you forever

Leon fucks you harder, till you’re squealing and till he has to muffle your noises with kisses on the mouth. Till clammy foreheads are pressed against one another’s, till the bed is on its last legs, till damp bodies are sticking together.

And every word he’s taught you these past couple of months is nothing but a memory.

Daddy, daddy, daddy!

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” most beautiful you’ve ever looked—taking your daddy’s cock like a champ, walls pulsating around him. Legs kicking so rabidly your hips hump against Leon’s, unintentionally fucking him back as you drown in your second ever orgasm with a loud gasp. “My perfect little baby bunny.”

Balls slapping against your ass, Leon tries to rush his first coming so you won’t have to deal with his dick bullying your sensitive insides for much longer. Pushes your shoulders down into the mattress so he can reach deeper, base disappearing into your hole.

The sight of your face is enough to send Leon over the edge, spilling into you before his somatic system even has time to process what’s going on. Moaning like a pornstar ‘cause it’s been so fucking long. Hips stuttering and stilling, shooting thick hot ropes of cum where one should never shoot thick hot ropes of cum.

Probably the last of Leon’s sperm storage, would be a miracle if they impregnated you but that’s just a tender and sappy ol’ fantasy. Swears he feels his orgasm prolonging itself by imagining you round with his babies. Lord.

“I love you,” he’s cupping your face, panting into your mouth and petting your head with shaky hands.

“Daddy…” tip of your nose brushing against his, Leon’s heart twists at your earnest declaration, “bunny loves daddy.”

Leon savours the moment, waiting a couple of minutes before pulling out of you with a sticky pop! and watching his load drip out of you. Body going slack—worn out from all the banging, you blink at him heavy-lidded, lazy fucked-out smile lining your lips.

He flops down next to you, sweaty and guilty and out of breath.

Shit, everybody’s gonna know, see right through Leon like the fucking ghost he is. Smell your bunny scent on him. If he didn’t already get the judgmental, knowing once-overs at the office then, you best believe he will now.

Claire’s going to bite him in the ass for having been balls deep inside you. Hunnigan’s gonna let out one of those disappointed mother sighs she does on the regular, Rebecca and Sherry will look at him like vintage damsels in distress. Chris is going to go Oh my God, Leon in his constipated voice, Jill won’t even spare him a second glance. Ashley will gasp and clutch her heart like it is the biggest betrayal since the ‘09 presidential election.

When the day comes, he’ll take it, face it like a man.

(Take Matilda in his hand and set you free.)

But when you cuddle up against him all sweetly like that, spooning Leon like he’s your personal oversized teddy bear, he might just reconsider. Reconsider taking the easy way out, reconsider his position, might retire and take on the full-time job of being your Daddy for the rest of his life.

Leon’s got everything he needs right here. He is ready for the long haul that might be the next couple of decades of his life, or the next twenty-four hours.

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