pupdollie

[pupdollie]

Resident Evil 4 (2005) Leon S. Kennedy [ 4 / ??? ]

Mods Used: 1

[pupdollie]

ultraviolence ‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

[pupdollie]

blue eyeshadow ‧₊˚𐙚⋅˚₊‧

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the secretary and leshley ohmyvos

“We can't do this 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Why not?”

[pupdollie]

omgomgomgomg

who's a good boy? yes, it's you! it's you~!

[pupdollie]

SILENT HILL 2 REMAKE (2024)

[pupdollie]

just a cute little clip of DI Leon ♡ ;

[pupdollie]

HIT DOGS HOLLER!

MDNI: leon kennedy x fem!reader

Leon doesn’t like dogs. Really. But when he stumbles upon the poster girl of a seedy brothel, he just can’t help but take her home! Thankfully, you don’t seem to mind: what’s a pup to do when her kidnapper treats her right?

word count. 7.6k !

cws. hybrids, kidnapping but . . . she’s alright with it, dubcon, prostitution, p in v, creampies, unprotected, blowjobs, refs to past sa/mistreatment w no depiction, this is all lighthearted lmao, proofread for once ??

note. not dead dove for once!! forgive my disappearance… not the best but i’m alright w it!! comments & rbs are appreciated!!

taglist. @gor3-hound , @sqiim , @shiawaseorii , @arminsbf , @adiorxia , @localkiss , @angelstargel , @lilianrouge , @faysslut , @kcolrom , @whrenches , @nilpill , @jojissalsa , @sirenhub , @pupsmoke , @danigirls-missions , @withonly-sweetheart , @cigarett3wif3 , @milknst4rz

You’re cotton and fluff between the ears, but you’ve come up with a handful of rules to stay prettiest puppy in the brothel:

One, you don’t know how to count, but you know that “fifty” means blowjob, “seventy-five” means anal, and anything ending in “hundred” means you’re waking up sore.

Two, you don’t know what sort of jobs men actually have, but you’ve learned that yours is to let them hurt you.

Three, your own vision’s gotten a little murky, but you’re well-versed in the male gaze – so you bat your lashes and bite your tongue and pretend that it doesn’t sting when you’re shaved raw.

Four, it’s bad for the body to talk back – but it’s bad for the soul to dream of it. You’re a sex doll, born and bred; it’s best to keep your brain as smooth as your skin.

You learned the word ‘prostitute’ after you’d landed the job – snapping at your first client’s feet and pawing at the window till the curtain snagged. One of the older girls explained it to you that evening, nursing your black eye: the law was unsure what to make of hybrids, so it turned a blind eye to them – displacing them among stray dogs and sex workers. She didn’t explain why you weren’t a person in the eyes of the government, but you accepted it before she could try – quietly submitting to the reality that you had more in common with a servant than an employee.

So you kept on. You throated cock till you started coughing. You pretended to enjoy yourself unless they slipped an extra five for you to cry. You ignored every abrupt ache and fantasized about how much worse the alleyway pups had it. You were a good girl. The best damn girl. And it’d stay that way – you were paid in praise.

Really, you didn’t ask for much. But you reckoned that something was owed for your compliance. Wasn’t easy letting ugly men put their ugly hands on you. Problem was, you wouldn’t know what to do with a wad of cash, or where to find someone who would earnestly help you. You didn’t have the right to vote or take any of your clients to trial or seek actual employment – hell, you didn’t have the right to know what half of those words meant.

Still, you found yourself wishing when your guard was down, when the night air carried away the brothel’s stuffiness. It was never quite coherent enough for words. If you put it into words, you’d force yourself to stop thinking. Your prayers took the form of pictures, slid under the door to an unlabeled deity’s manor. Rested atop the boot of the personification of the universe. Something like that. You longed for something different. A new shower, a handsome man, for the brothel to burn down. You let yourself hold onto the thought till the sun rose, sweeping away your yearning like cobwebs.

Bouts of motivated forgetting muddled the intricacies of your fantasies, but you didn’t mind. It was foolish to dream of knights and chariots. You knew that. But you were still foolish enough to picture your savior in denim when the night got a little too quiet. You wondered if some god would commend you for your realism.

Maybe that’s how it happened.

Funny enough, Leon’s never been too fond of dogs.

Raccoon City does that to a guy, he upheld. He’d been refused a puppy on 1984’s Christmas and didn’t bother to ask again, so sympathy for the Cerberus dwindled with each bite. By Spain, he was desensitized. When Ashley caught sight of a Plaga-infested wolf, he’d shoot it before her bottom lip would jut out. Before she had the chance to go on about whatever White House lap dog she’d been missing since her abduction. Time passed, Umbrella went belly-up, and all looked to him when their hybrid records trickled into the mainstream.

Hybrids were one of Umbrella’s lesser-discussed endeavors – between the lack of funding and near-incurable docility, there wasn’t much to record at all. Why waste a report on hybrid fetch when γ-strain Hunters were gradually devouring Raccoon City’s sewer maintenance staff? They were initially kept in the Raccoon labs, first discovered as corpses within the disaster – but ultimately dismissed as rumor after the city’s destruction. Until Umbrella went bankrupt, and their virtual records were seized by the U.S. government.

Far from priority, the existence of hybrids was confined to the footnotes of emails and half-baked memoirs from custodial staff. They were an afterthought, a work-in-progress, a species not to be implemented until they’d matured. Their specific purpose was murky: without any injected strain of the T-virus, they were a far cry from any of Umbrella’s previous amalgamations. But records of their existence managed to stretch back into 1981 – and that alone was enough to attract the DSO’s eye. The general consensus between Umbrella’s archives was that, at the time of the Raccoon City Disaster, hybrids were intended to utilize β strain scraps – creating an undead human with the agility and aggression of an undead canine. But between piss-poor communication and extensive feuding, hybrids were forced to flee from the undead before it was injected into them.

If they’d chosen to hide, to succumb within the boundaries of the city, Leon wouldn’t have to think of them past the initial report: but puppies never knew quite how to be still.

A series of haphazard escapes and subsequent abductions ensued. Rumors of half-dog mutants circulated throughout American cities, occasionally exploited by some backwater tabloid – but largely confined to idle gossip. Till Umbrella’s leaked records prompted the exposure of a brothel. Then another. And another. Years later, the total population remained obscured by unprecedented fertility and black market exploitation.

Valentine liked dogs enough. Chambers did too. Redfield sure as hell did. He made that apparent all too often for Leon’s taste. Recently, he’d gotten into the habit of keeping his interventions subtle enough to pass as conversation – far too familiar with Leon’s decaying professionalism. He’d encourage Leon to adopt a dog anytime he caught sight of a haphazardly-obscured flask. Leon would respond by taking a sip.

Needless to say, that left Kennedy to take care of any hybrid reports. It’s not that Chris would refuse, and it’s not that Leon took joy in digging through the seedy underbelly of prostitute America, but in spite of his ever-increasing irritation with his coworkers, he bit the bullet when the higher-ups asked him to. That wasn’t anything novel. This mission wasn’t anything novel. He got a tip to investigate a brothel potentially facilitating hybrid sex work. Wasn’t the first – hell, he couldn’t put a number to it at all. So when he found himself slinking into an alleyway for the umpteenth time, his thoughts revolved more directly around whiskey than prostitutes.

His eyes scanned over the shadowed crevices of each brick to ignite some sense of urgency – but something had long dulled that. Danger seldom felt dangerous when it was like this. He frowned, somewhat dejected as he turned the corner – abruptly finding himself face-to-face with an unlabeled, decrepit establishment, nestled within an intersection between buildings. Two yellowed pillars groaned as he eased one foot onto the first cracked step. They never paid much mind to dolling up the exterior – but really, there was no need to if the girls were dolled up nice enough. Brow furrowing in distaste, he stared for a moment at the doorknob. It stared back behind dulled brass. Dull enough to tell the tale of a thousand hands. He sighed heavily, palming the knob before twisting it open.

Leon coughed upon entry, nose scrunching in reflexive disgust. It was easier to forget the stench of sex than it was to wash it out. The place was dimly lit and haphazardly carpeted – wallpaper peeling in strips from the low ceiling. There wasn’t much anything more unpleasant than sifting through a brothel. Wiping the revulsion off of his face, he turned his head to a pair of footsteps approaching from the adjacent hall.

“Uh, hey,” Leon started, making some poor attempt to clear his throat. He’d never been good at that part – posing as a client. Most of the time, his job was to apprehend whatever bastard they’d put in charge – unless the brothel under investigation simultaneously employed actual prostitutes. Like this one. His job shifted to confirming the number of captive hybrids and the building’s layout, to his dismay. Something about ensuring innocent sex workers didn’t get caught in the crossfire. Awfully inconsiderate, if you asked him – posing made him feel like a total sleaze.

A man shuffled to a wooden desk, crudely adorned with bite marks. Canine-like, Leon decided, glancing back up when he spoke: “You buyin’?”

Leon grimaced. He hated it when the pimps actually thought he was coming into a brothel for a hooker. Wasn’t his jawline too good for that? Didn’t he carry himself with a little too much dignity? The assumption alone had him pissed enough on a daily basis, but he grit his teeth and nodded along. “Yeah.”

The man nodded to a wall of meticulously-hung photo frames, surprisingly clean – compared to the rest of the room. An ensemble of smiling women stared down upon him, eyes blank. There was a way of telling when a smile was genuine. The eyelids crinkle up, the gaze lightens the frame. Not like theirs. All blown pupils and caked lashes. He fought back a shudder, turning back to the desk.

“Do you have pups here?”

He fought back another shudder, failing a bit more. Relationships (i.e. sex) with hybrids weren’t illegal – hell, there hadn’t been a single law laid out in their interest. He could gun down the brothel and the cops wouldn’t bat an eye till the bastard in front of him fell over. Not that he was fucked up enough to do that or anything. He knew that it didn’t matter what he said here, that he wouldn’t actually engage with these sick fucks – but it still didn’t make this sort of transaction ideal. Every word had to be pulled from his throat like a tooth. He bit at the inside of his cheek, forcing away an uneasy grin.

“Oh…” the man acknowledged slowly, stepping away from the desk. “Uh, yeah. C’mon.”

Leon found himself ducking through another low hallway, cursing under his breath amongst the splintering beams. It felt tacky to leave them exposed. Felt tackier to keep the puppies in a secret room. That’s what just about every functional brothel tried to pull, he’d noted. Sexual exploitation was just too much of a turn-off to promote alongside the actual employees — the blatant kind, anyway. He braced himself as the door creaked open, two hybrids scrambling over to peer out the crack. His heart stilled for a moment.

For as long as he’d been investigating hybrid rings, he’d not allowed himself to see the appeal. Felt kinda fucked up. Yeah, he was kinda fucked up, but it didn’t mean he had to drag someone like you into it. Someone bright-eyed and pretty. Really pretty. Fuck, you were pretty.

You climbed over the other pup, ears erect and eyes wide. Blinking sparsely. Like you’d never seen a sleaze in your life. Like the scent of booze and hedonism were enough to make your heart pound. The way your lashes batted made him want to believe it. Your tail thudded against the floor loudly enough to distract him from the mission at hand. Leon nudged the door open fully, and you sank to your knees prettily enough for his heart and cock to throb in tandem. Prettily enough to forget what he was supposed to think about you. Wasn’t he supposed to be freeing you? Something like that. The blood that should’ve been oxygenating his brain was currently reddening his tip.

Throat suddenly dry, he jerked his head upward – forcing his eyes away from your plush thighs for a moment. Puppies were always soft like that. But he’d yet to be enamored so instantly. His dick clearly didn’t pay much mind to his morals. He tried not to pay much mind to his dick.

Twelve… Thirteen… Fourteen.

Fourteen hybrids remained cramped within the room, whining over each other in anticipation. That was enough to pluck the cotton from his frontal lobe. His gaze darted back to the man at his side, arms folded benignly – impartial to his selection. You pawed at his calves. He felt his pulse in his cock before his heart. Leon didn’t bother making an even bigger fool of himself, gesturing at you in some vain attempt to preserve the integrity of his voice. You grinned and settled yourself a little straighter. Puppy teeth. He felt his stomach churn.

“Yeah? That one?” he asked, motioning to you. Leon nodded, making an effort to pretend that thirteen pairs of eyes weren’t burning a hole through his jacket. It was strange to see a brothel of legitimately excited puppies. He wasn’t gullible enough to believe that they were legitimately happy to be imprisoned, but his cock sure as hell was. Effective marketing technique; he was so hard, he couldn't think.

“Yeah, uh… blowjob from her,” Leon muttered, forking over a wad of cash nestled in his jacket. He’d been saving it for a drinking binge before he’d gotten assigned here. That might’ve been good luck, as reluctant as he was to admit it – he’d saved up enough to drink himself into a stupor. His dick had taken enough of a hit already.

He found himself repeating the number of hybrids he’d seen as the door to one of the bedrooms closed behind him. This would be the part where he’d awkwardly shift on the mattress, coaxing the hybrid beside him to cough up anything incriminating before he updated the DSO. It’d never take much. There was always this telltale misery behind the eyes of a puppy prostitute. (Breaking news: water found in lake!) If he was nice enough, the pup would tell him anything he wanted. Kindness was an unspoken commodity in a ring like that.

But he quickly found that being nice to you didn’t get him anywhere. He flashed you a smile as the mattress dipped beneath him, accommodating his weight. You smiled back. And then promptly fell to your knees. Leon sucked in a breath through his teeth, eyes widening as you fidgeted with your collar.

“Hey, you don’t have—“ he started, swallowing thickly when you freed your tits from your shirt. You stared up at him, bright-eyed and faux-oblivious, languidly teasing the bud of your nipple with your thumb.

“I’ll take good care of you, sir…,” you said, shifting to him and extending your pinky. “Promise.”

He linked his finger with yours, eyes darting between your smile and your tits. You had a disheveled sort of beauty to you — not quite perfect, but perfect enough. Perfect enough to end up between your client’s thighs within five minutes of meeting him.

“Hold on,” stilled somewhere in the middle of his chest and died as you flattened your palm across the swell of his bulge. Laughably so. Yeah, nice going, Kennedy – what sort of agent can’t lie to get out of sex? (An agent that hasn’t fucked in a year after a losing battle with whiskey dick.) You looked up at him for approval, pawing at his firm thighs till he got the hint to spread them a little wider.

You settled nicely between them, cheeks puffed and brows furrowed in concentration as you popped open the button of his jeans, tail flicking as you tugged down the zipper – and up again – and down. As if you didn’t see a dozen zippers a day. You remained distracted for a moment, fluffy tail brushing across the carpet in excitement. That really shouldn’t have made his cock jump, but it did, and you sheepishly came back to your senses.

You made quick work of freeing his cock. Quick enough to make him frown. Sure, you were a prostitute, but you weren’t like those prostitutes. You seemed legitimately thrilled to be on your knees, nuzzling a stranger’s balls. (Critical thinking had left him rather abruptly: there were about a dozen and a half reasons you could be faking your enthusiasm. Not like getting men off was your job or anything.) The frown gave as you flattened your tongue across the underside of his balls, a low hiss resonating from the base of his jaw. You pressed either lip to the swell of his sac, mouth warm enough to make him forget about why he didn’t care for puppies in the first place.

But it wasn’t much like a prostitute to work too slowly. Slowness implied intimacy, he’d decided some time ago – half the men you dealt with were probably old bastards, anyway. The sort that fell asleep when the whiskey flowed a little too heavily and the blowjob went a little too languidly. You trailed your tongue across the expanse of his shaft, confirming another one of his lust-infused takes on the sex work industry, stilling his thoughts with a groan.

“Fuck, sweetheart–” he inhaled through clenched teeth, watching your pink tongue sloppily glaze against the underside of his tip – lips glossy with pre. He would’ve been humiliated if he wasn’t more turned-on than he’d been for the past decade. Hell, two decades. You looked up, all bright-eyed and coquettish, a string of saliva breaking between your mouth and his cock.

“Can I have more?” you asked, tail beating against the floor. His cock visibly throbbed, hips jerking involuntarily. Fuck, this was bad.

“Yeah… Yeah, you can take it,” he breathed, hand moving to grasp at one of your soft ears. You leaned into his palm, easing forward to purse your lips around his tip, licking up the bead of pre that had dribbled down. You nursed the head gently, tail wagging as he scratched your ear – maintaining eye contact as you went to take him further down your throat – tongue flattening against the shaft.

Leon’s eyelids fluttered, Adam’s apple bobbing as he forced a groan back down into his chest. “Shit, yeah, like that… just like that…” He didn’t really know why he found himself talking sweet to a whore, but praise made you suck his dick harder, made your eyes light up, made your ears twitch. Something about it was endearing, in a freak sort of way.

“Mmh,” you responded, incomprehensible with a mouth full of dick. Saliva dripped down to his balls as you bobbed your head a little harder, lashes fluttering every time his grip tensed. You were methodically sloppy, somehow. Like there was a set amount of spit in the ideal blowjob. He didn’t know if that was common among hookers or not. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t have cared if you were the last whore he ever fucked, the last person he ever fucked – why stray from you when you could take cock so well?

“Atta girl,” he groaned, patting your cheek tentatively – mind too fogged to recall how one was supposed to thank a hooker. He didn’t want you to be a hooker. He didn’t dwell on it for the sake of his erection. You took a liking to just about anyone with a pretty face and a natural inclination to praise you – so your lashes fluttered in concentration as you mouthed his cock, pupils dilating as his breaths staggered.

“Fuck, taking my cock good–” he exhaled, pre dribbling across your tongue and back down his length. You shifted, feeling him twitch in your mouth. His cock was easy to take. That was enough to get you to like him – you weren’t too fond of big dick. Hurt your throat. Knocked your ovaries out of place. Leon saw your eyes space out a little in thought. The second you gazed back up at him, eyes big and glossy, he felt the coil in the pit of his stomach snap abruptly – another groan rising from his chest as he came across your tongue.

You inclined backwards, nursing his softening tip – smiling when his hand found its way to your ear again. You leaned into his touch, letting your tongue run across the length, licking him clean of cum. Evidence. Not that there hadn’t been a thousand men where he stood. The thought made him frown.

“Sorry,” he grimaced, motioning for you to stand up. You didn’t. You tilted your head, leaning up against his thigh till your cheek smushed. Fuck.

“S’okay. Nothing to be sorry about,” you hummed, somehow mirroring his exhaustion. “You could’ve given me a facial… nothin’ extra, sir.”

He felt his saliva thicken up, mouth drying. Like it was gonna clog his throat. He would’ve deserved it. 37, without aspiration, and enamored by a prostitute – what would America lose? Another sleaze? Another body to send off with a handgun and a prayer? Wiping the scowl from his face, he shook his head. Fuck shame. You could make him happy, offering all that.

“Nothing extra? Usually there’s another fee.”

“There is, but I wouldn’t tell,” you half-smiled, eyes darting sheepishly. “You could fuck my pussy, if you wanted. I don’t care about money.”

Leon’s eyes shot to his watch. Six minutes till the place got raided. He cursed under his breath, grimacing at the thought of the DSO catching you on his spent cock. Unobtainable. He forced himself to deny you, forced the first letter from his throat – before an idea splintered from his distress.

Missions like these always went the same way. Infiltrate brothel. Confirm presence of hybrids. Contact DSO. Pretend to get fucked. Watch the following raid. Optional: sedate pimp. He’d never been one to disrupt the cycle. There wasn’t any point – they always paid him back whatever he spent on unreceived blowjobs. Plus tip. Usually, the tip was nice enough to make him forget that he had absolutely no idea what the DSO ended up doing with the hybrids. Kept in captivity was what he settled on, for his own peace of mind – kept from reproducing, maybe? He didn’t bother to ask, and they didn’t bother to debrief. He knew better to ask about what he didn’t want to know.

Regardless, they were approaching closer by the minute, and he sure as hell hadn’t seen a hybrid post-raid before. So he patted the sedative in his pocket for reassurance, eyes raking over your form as his fingers slipped within.

“How about I take you up on that another time?” he asked, speaking slowly, kneeling slower – like you’d be able to sniff out his intentions if he ratted on too fast. Dogs had a way of doing that. Not you, it seemed – you nodded along, beaming up at him.

“Yeah, anytime! You could be a–”

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt the presence of a syringe in the left side of your neck, words clipped by a yelp. He’d moved faster than you could’ve anticipated. Years of experience you’d not had the chance to learn of. Your eyes widened, then drooped, then struggled not to shut entirely.

“Atta girl,” he hummed, fastening a plastic tie around your wrists while your body melted into the floor.

Look, you’re not a bad girl. Really. You’re just very conscious of what your survival entails. You aren’t smart enough for an ugly word like manipulation. Men just tend to be very, very stupid – and you tend to be very, very hungry without food. It’s nothing, bad, anyway – you just pretend to be giddy for cock, and it keeps you warm and comfortable. They’ll stay warm and comfortable no matter what when they go back home. Warm and comfortable and predictable.

Until they aren’t stupid enough to be predictable.

You’d been eager to dismiss Leon as a pretty stranger. Seemed nice enough. The ones who wanted to rough you up never got hard when you grinned at them. You figured that if you offered him free sex, he’d come back again for you. You’d never had a regular without a micropenis or a mean streak before. It’d be refreshing to look forward to his presence, to impress someone who didn’t leave your throat scratchy.

But you didn’t exactly picture kidnapping when you thought about seeing him around more often.

Kidnapping. Right. That’s where you were. Somewhere a little darker than your room was ever allowed to get. Somewhere airy. The air in the brothel always sat heavy in your lungs. You cleared your throat, ears perking up as you wiggled your wrists – whining at the realization that they were still ensnared in plastic.

The plastic still left raised lines across your wrists – scratches from yesterday’s drugged attempt at escape. Hardly an attempt. Your arms twitched feebly beneath the trunk, eyelids fighting to stay open enough to peer out the crack.

“I thought you specified fourteen?” a woman asked with absent suspicion. You watched her heel shift on the asphalt.

“Nah, there were only thirteen. Must’ve counted ‘em up wrong. They were all in this dark room. Closet-sized,” a deeper voice resonated – you registered it as Leon. You would’ve scolded your tail for wagging if you’d had the dignity to.

“It was a little bigger than a closet, Leon,” the woman argued. She added something else, but not before the stench of gasoline failed to keep you grounded, and you found yourself unconscious in the trunk of a stranger’s car.

You huffed, ears flopping as you lowered your lips to your wrists – absentmindedly biting into the plastic. Your ears perked up when you felt the plastic cave – ever-so-slightly, but effective nonetheless. You turned your head, biting at the zip tie, prying it from your wrists like meat from the bone.

Something took fortune upon you – your sharper teeth had come in some time ago, but you’d never had much reason to put them to use. Men usually don’t like their cocks bitten. You snapped the tie free, unbothered to keep track of time, flexing your sore jaw for a moment. Your wrists were covered in little indents and saliva; you couldn’t have cared less. Pawing away the remnants of the plastic, you padded across the room – wincing when your hip came into contact with the corner of a table. The room was too dark to discern anything, so you eased yourself onto the floor for a moment.

The room hummed with the air conditioning overhead. Like it was donating each breath you took. You’d not really known air conditioning like this – to you, air conditioning screamed into the night, angry and useless at dissipating the atmosphere’s stuffiness. You flexed your muscles, slowly extending your limbs in the quiet. Your hand didn’t brush another’s cheek; your foot didn’t knock against someone else’s head. For the first time in your life, you had space to stretch, space to think, space to be.

It took thirty seconds of quiet for you to decide that your prayers had been granted with a blowjob and a sedative. You couldn’t have wiped the grin off your face if you tried – you knew it! You knew that you wouldn’t be rotting in that cesspool forever! Even if you didn’t know much, you’d been right!

Your self-praise was interrupted by the pop! of the room’s lock, body rigid as your neck craned to face the door. Light filtered in through the crack, revealing your surroundings to you – you’d been locked up in a bedroom. Bigger than you’d ever seen up close. You quickly identified half of the furniture as corners you’d banged into while clamoring through the darkness. Just as abruptly, a tentative footstep piqued your interest, and your eyes darted to the door.

Leon stood, slowly cracking the door open with one hand, palming his gun with the other. You’d never really had much of a survival instinct, so you hurried from your spot on the carpet to the one at his feet. His expression faltered, caution giving way to concern – how the hell had you gotten free? He opened his mouth to speak. Closed it quickly. You yipped at his feet, eagerly pawing at his calves from the ground.

“Leon!” you smiled with all of your teeth, punctuating his name with the thud of your tail against the floor. “You’re back!”

He stood rigid, brow raised in disbelief. You could see his face better here – he looked a little more tired than you recalled. Stubble peppered his face, grey smudged his undereyes. Maybe everyone looked a little more tired than the brothel fluorescents had allowed. His mouth opened and closed again before he spoke.

“You… what?”

You cocked your head to the side, unsure of what he was getting at, till your eyes darted sheepishly to your now-bare wrists. That was probably it.

“I didn’t like ‘em,” you whined, jutting out your bottom lip. “Uncomfortable.”

He shook his head, closing the door behind him as he cleared his throat. “No, not that, you’re… you’re happy.”

You didn’t really process that most puppies wouldn’t be too happy to wind up kidnapped. Why wouldn’t they be? The floor here didn’t give you splinters. Felt like common knowledge, so you accepted it as such.

“Yeah!” you chimed, nearly panting. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He didn’t look any less bewildered. Like you’d just killed the president.

You knew how to say all the right things, he’d give you that. That wasn’t unexpected. What was unexpected was that you kept up the act. Had they trained you to accept captivity from strangers? Probably. Who knew what they’d done with you?

“You shouldn’t be happy to see me,” he muttered, avoiding the sight of the indents the zip ties had left. You followed his gaze and came back with nothing, tail bruising against the floor as you pondered.

“Are you gonna keep me here?” you grinned. “Really? Are you?!”

He ran a hand over his face, pausing before he spoke. “Yeah, I’m keeping you, alright? Keep your voice down—“

Your entire face lit up as you answered with the exact same volume: “Yeah! Yeah, of course, anything, Leon!” Your excitement was palpable; he visibly grimaced. Not too hard, though. You were adorable.

“Whisper,” he reminded, looking around — as if he hadn’t been living alone for the past decade. (That was a lie — it’d been nearly two. But that made him feel old.) “Listen, this… isn’t gonna be normal, alright? Not like— God, I don’t know. You’re gonna have to stay here all day, stay quiet. They can’t know. Got it?”

“I’m used to that!” you said, voice bubbly amidst rather traumatic implications. “I’ve never gone outside!”

Leon blinked, chiding himself. No shit. He’d kidnapped a prostitute, not a pup. “We, uh… we can go outside, sometime,” he suggested slowly. “At night. When half the complex is on vacation.”

You visibly swooned, nodding along as he described the limitations to your freedom — not that you cared much for freedom anymore. He was nice.

Oddly enough, the days were chaste. You whined and pawed at his bedroom door when he didn’t let you sleep by his side, but forgave him by the morning when he opened it again. You shared meals together. He bathed you once. Cleaned up the resulting soap flung across the tile, too. Leon gave up restraining you when you passed up every escape opportunity to follow him around. Thank God. He didn’t like to feel like an actual kidnapper.

He tried to explain to you that he’d done something bad. That this arrangement shouldn’t have happened. That he acted irrationally. But you never listened, too preoccupied with clawing at his bedsheets or trying to pry off the pink collar he’d picked up for you. The cashier had asked what his dog’s name was. Felt wrong giving out yours, so he’d stood there, flushed and awkward.

And nobody talked about the blowjob.

Look, it was out of necessity, alright? You did it before he could convince himself to stop you. Because he would’ve. Definitely. You were doing a job, and he’d lost his head for a second. There wasn’t anything more to talk about. Sure, he thought you were a pretty girl — and sure, when he’d gone out to get you a collar, he’d ended up with a dozen pairs of panties he imagined you’d look nice in, but that was it.

Except for the fact that you wouldn’t stop going on about that deal. The one that’d convinced him to abduct you in the first place. But he didn’t like to dwell on the past — all-too-eager to forget your vow to let him fuck you again.

Every night, you’d get a little too close to him. Conveniently splay your thighs apart. Exaggeratedly gaze upon his cock instead of his eyes when you spoke. He didn’t understand you; wouldn’t anyone want a break from sex after a career like that? This felt like a test, somehow — a test he was hellbent on passing. The only way to effectively suppress the guilt of kidnapping you was to take care of you like you’d not been before. He couldn’t see how fucking you was for your own benefit.

But you were relentless. Chastity was fun and all, for fifteen minutes. Maybe going cold turkey had fucked you over. Maybe the brothel had turned you into an incurable sex addict. You hoped not. That wasn’t cute. Leon might give you back. The thought made your tail tuck between your legs — catching his attention in half a second.

“Hey, pup,” he called to you, waving you over to his lap. “C’mere.”

You obliged, scheming quietly — guilt tearing in between your ribs as you eased yourself onto his clothed thigh. He patted your hip, settling his arm around your waist: “Atta girl. What’s that look for?”

You bit your lip, fighting against the idea blossoming in the back of your mind. Losing battle. You were desperate to get dicked down. Besides, you’d be doing him a favor, right? Each day you went without paying him back for your abduction made the guilt sit heavier in your heart.

So you lied through your teeth. “I’m in heat,” you started, tone verging on a whine. Ears flattening against your hair as his face went blank.

“Oh,” he said, as if he was going to continue. He wasn’t. It wasn’t like Leon was oblivious to the fact that hybrids went into heat. He’d seen it before: sweaty pups confined to miserable brothels. Made him shudder. You didn’t look sweaty, or miserable — but fuck, he’d hate to see it.

“Yeah…” you trailed off, trying to make yourself look worse for wear than you actually were. You parted your lips like your airflow wasn’t sufficient, inclining your head back for a moment. “Feels like I’m burning up…”

He put his palm to your forehead, brows knitting together in concentration. You averted eye contact. You were really fucking horny, sure, but other than that, you were just fine. Heat was weird for you, anyway. Months away. You were too cute to stay chaste, surely—

“Kinda warm, yeah,” he concurred, because men are very stupid. “You, uh… don’t have to sit with me.”

You whined before he could push you off of his thigh, pawing at the air. Of course his first instinct was to kick you off. Did he even want you if he didn’t want to take advantage of you? The prospect made you stiff with worry.

“Look, I don’t know how to deal with this, pup. What am I supposed to do?” he asked, hesitating. Like you had any authority to get offended. You bit the inside of your cheek, trailing your gaze to his — parting your thighs to slot his between them.

He blinked, hand trailing to your hip. “You’re sure this’ll help?”

You nodded immediately, heart swelling, arousal pooling between your thighs. “Please?” you hummed, punctuating yourself by rocking your hips. Stifling a gasp. You hardly kept it subtle enough for deniability.

Leon thought on it for a moment, rubbing circles into your side with the pad of his thumb. “Have at it, sweetheart. Can’t have you sick.”

In an instant, modesty became obsolete — you hummed as you pressed your clothed clit to his thigh, trembling in relief. It’d been too long for a girl like you. Like you’d been getting punished for abstinence. Nights were long when your kidnapper was asleep and your libido wasn’t. You grinded languidly, forcing yourself to seem polite. Even as you fucked yourself on a man’s leg. You’d be damned if Leon ended up thinking less of you within your own lie. He furrowed his brow — this didn’t make sense. You didn’t make sense. You knew that well enough, but your heart pounded as his hand slipped.

More, you begged internally, thighs clenching around his. More, fuck— why couldn’t he fuck you?

“You’re doing it wrong,” he said pointedly, as if you’d not dedicated your life to sex work. As if he somehow knew how to get you off better than you did. You huffed, ears flopping as you hung your head — limbs going rigid when he took hold of your hips. “Don’t make this longer than it has to be.”

His hands were nicer than you’d forced yourself to grow accustomed to. Cleaner than your clientele. Calloused, but in the rugged way, not the way that made your skin itch. (He wasn’t exactly rugged, you thought — too brooding, too neurotic. Yeah, he was your savior and all, but even you knew what counted as one too many Jack Daniel’s.) You let him settle his palms onto your waist, holding still as he grinded your clothed cunt into his thigh, flexing the muscle as he rocked your clit into it. You gasped before you could think about it — before you could recall just how long it’s been since you’ve been flustered.

Slick leaked out to your inner thighs, soaking the panties he’d just bought you — darkening the lace before your tail could tuck in shame. You were too wet for shame. You whimpered in ecstasy as he raised his thigh, sandwiching the swell between your labia — like you weren’t still divided by fabric, for a moment. You were entirely helpless to this man grinding his thigh into your pussy, and every second more made your clit throb harder — every inadvertent graze to it prompted another gasp from you.

But it didn’t matter, you realized, whining in frustration as your eyes fell to his bulge. Maybe you were in heat. Maybe you’d just never actually been horny for a man you liked before. Shit had you delirious. You frowned, shaking your head, panting as you strained against his hands.

“S’not right,” you whined, putting on the best set of puppy eyes you could muster. “Want you to feel good… Please?” (Men tended to like that, right? Having everything revolve around them? You weren’t too confident after getting kidnapped.)

And Leon froze. Fuck, he was supposed to reassure you, he knew. He was supposed to tell you that you were allowed to get off without him, that it wasn’t wrong or bad or disappointing. But the words got lodged in his throat and his cock chubbed up in his boxers before he could spit them out. You had a better eye for erections than you did for ill intentions. In an instant, your focus entirely settled upon his dick and not the pale tint his face had taken on. You took his silence as a command, tail swiping across his knee as you fidgeted with his belt. Freeing cock was second nature to you. You palmed the length as it strained against the fabric, grinning before you could wipe it off your face.

“Hey, c’mon… too slow, pup, you’re killing me,” Leon complained, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back the last of his dignity. Went down like medicine. If your pussy hadn’t been throbbing, you would’ve pulled away. Well, you would’ve thought about it. Something like that. You froze when he took hold of your thighs, settling you before him — patting your inner thigh as he spoke again. “Open up.”

And you did, spreading your thighs wide open on his lap. He nodded to you again: “Wider, pup.” You obliged, dipping your hands between your thighs to expose yourself further. Leon looked upon your form, laughing under his breath as he dipped his index finger beneath the gusset of your panties, tugging the fabric up. Your arousal lifted in strands, slick serving as an adhesive. He shook his head, letting the elastic snap the fabric back down.

“Already ruined these, huh, sweetheart?” he raised his eyebrows, forearm settled beside your thigh. Your clit pulsed without your consent. You nodded bonelessly, ears lowered till he pulled the fabric aside, cunt bare against his index. It was weird — you’d shown a thousand men your pussy. Why did you suddenly care about being exposed?

“Please,” you panted before you could control yourself, arousal surging as he parted your lips with the pad of his thumb. Leon responded with a furrowed brow, languidly scissoring you open. He pushed your hand away every time you tried to reach for his cock. Hell, you’d never been this horny. He had you desperate in the way you were used to seeing in men. You’d pay him, if you could. Just for kidnapping you. Just for this.

“Fuck, you’re pretty like this,” he mused, voice raspy with arousal — cock pointedly drooling precum across his abdomen. “Can see why everyone paid for this pussy. All mine now, huh?”

You bit your lip, heart pounding as his hand trailed back to his cock — fisting the length for a moment as your hole fluttered. You parted your labia with your fingers, thighs trembling as you watched him smear precum across the head, pressing it to your cunt. Like a kiss. You fought back a smile for a moment at the imagery, quickly winning as he eased himself into you.

It felt better than you remembered, having a desperate man bully your cunt. You whimpered as his grip on your waist tightened, knuckles going white as he bottomed out before he could stop himself. “Fuck… Sorry, pup, can’t—“ he panted, jaw going slack for a moment. You filled in the blank for him: can’t stop. That didn’t matter to you. Your slick coated his length as he pulled out to the tip, audibly lewd as he rocked his hips back into you.

It wasn’t like Leon was inexperienced. Obviously. It was just that it had been a really fucking long time. He’d hardly realized that he was pent-up till you sucked him off prettily enough for him to abduct you. Somehow, you made him feel inexperienced — your cunt pulsed in tandem with his heartbeat. Hypnotic enough to make him forget self-restraint.

Desperate for some sort of relief, you bit your lip hard enough to bleed, watching him pump into your cunt. You felt his left hand trail to your chest, fingers dipping into the swell of your breast as his grip solidified. Couldn’t help the way you tensed up as his fingers sandwiched your nipple between them. Knuckles pressing against the raised bud. Your ears twitched with your clit; you whimpered in overstimulation before you could make the distinction.

“That something you like, sweetheart?” Leon muttered, shifting his palm down your tit to pinch the bud between his forefinger and thumb. Your cunt clenched, walls restricting his aching cock — tongue lolling as you nodded. He fucked your own arousal back into you, ruining any chances you had at formulating a response.

“Look at you,” he panted, pace sloppy. Condescending, somehow, despite the way his cock twitched. “Lying to me about heat, ruining the gift I just bought you — and I’m still letting you go dumb on my cock. What do you have to say for yourself, pup?”

“Gonna cum— Gonna cum, please—“ you whimpered, the coil in your lower belly rapidly unwinding. You didn’t have anything else to say. You were a liar. Damn proud of it, too. You were fucking yourself stupid on your kidnapper’s dick and loving every goddamn second of it.

He swallowed thickly, practically bruising the fat of your hip as he tweaked your puffy nipple, eyes glazing over as the tag of your collar dangled before his vision. Yours. Right, he owned you — not your clientele, not your bastard pimp. He took that right. He’d regret getting off to it later — stuffing you full of cum the second your walls started to clench around him. You went rigid, tears beading across your waterline, body spent after cumming like that.

You stayed still as he pulled out, lids fluttering as you watched his cock soften. You’d never actually had the sort of orgasm that makes one want to have sex again. Leon blinked slowly, hand finding its way to the top of your head, scratching the spot on your ears that you actually didn’t mind too much.

“M’sorry for lying,” you mumbled, leaning against his chest as he leaned back against the cushion. He laughed — it reverberated against your cheek.

“Nothing to be sorry about, pup,” he said, calloused hand rubbing slow circles into your shoulder blade, fingertips grazing the back of your neck.

Maybe he was wrong for taking you; maybe you were wrong for being alright with it. Maybe you loved him. You could love him for that, you thought, curling up on his lap with a yawn. There wasn’t much anywhere for you to go, if not together.

[pupdollie]

Ugh I found the internet browser on the treadmill at my gym and I walked for like two hours and just listened to music and stared at this stupid white man istg

[pupdollie]

FILL HER UP AND LEAVE HER DUMB!

SIREN IS TYPING! | FINALLY! PISS FIC IS OUT! i wanted to apologize for taking sosososo long for putting it out, ive been juggling college and writer’s block HORRIBLY >< i’ve written this like 101380203 times and i guess this one is the least mediocre one.. thank you to my babe pillsy & pups for proof reading this and dealing with the fact ive written this like a million times now.. 6.5k words!

WARNINGS! | NSFW! PISS! URINE! PEE! leon will be pissing while he’s balls deep so if you don’t fw piss do not read! don’t! torture! yourself! age gaps, leon isn’t like? the best person? gross, sleazy, i guess! damnation leon is in his mid thirties, reader is in her early twenties, dumbification, semi-public sex? bar bathroom drunk sex, sloppy fucking, creampie, mediocre orgasm cuz leon is gross and only really cared about himself, clit playing, etc etc idk

SYNOPSIS! | damnation! leon kennedy x bimbo! reader — bar hook ups are rare when you’re in your thirties and go to sport bars filled with men, but when a pretty face comes in wearing the sluttiest outfit and doesn’t have a thought in her brain, leon knew he needed to get in a quick fuck. but after a full night of nursing whiskey, he can’t help his bladder filling up mid fuck!

dim lights, chatter, and old men — that’s what this bar was. 

so why were you here? 

leon was surprised, pretty girls like you don’t come around to places like these often.

look at you! dressed in the sluttiest crop top and skirt you could find. were you stupid? coming to a bar filled with gross middle aged men dressed like that? it was like you were asking for trouble. 

leon had been seated at the bar, staring down at his glass blankly, mind fuzzy and blurry while his face stayed void of emotion. he had been on autopilot, maybe if he was at another bar he would be doing something else— but that was empty wishful thinking, once a sip of alcohol enters his system his mind blanks. a way to cope, simply. that was the intention tonight. but that’s when you came in — practically skipping to the bar and taking the empty seat next to him. 

he had glanced over at you, a thoughtless action, but when he saw you, he was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. 

you were cute, sitting up with perfect posture, your tits practically spilling out of your shirt while you stared at the bartender with sparkling eyes, and you were sitting next to him? god must’ve heard his prayers and thrown him a bone. 

he kept a sly gaze on you while you ordered, watching you bat your eyelashes at the bartender while you ordered, biting your glossy lips in thought while you leaned against the counter. leon felt envious of the bartender, as he stood on the other side of the bar, he must be getting a nice look down your low-cut shirt. asshole. 

as you ordered, leon expected to hear you order something fruity, a frozen piña colada or whatever younger girls like you liked, but leon’s eyebrows raised in amusement once he heard your order. “uhh, can i have a cola? thank you!” you said, sounding so eager, leon’s brain reeled, did you really just ask for a soda? at a bar? are you stupid? the bartender simply nodded and turned away from you. you smiled dumbly and shifted in your seat, pulling your denim skirt down to cover your thighs. barely. you pulled out your phone, a cute iphone 4s with a hot pink cover, it suited you. 

moving to grip his glass, leon pulled it to his lips before he took a long swig of the drink, a small breath leaving his lips as he put the glass back.

“if you wanted a soda you could’ve gone to circle-k, you know?” leon said, turning his head to face you, a lazy smirk curling at his lips. 

your head perked up, and looking over at him, you smiled dumbly. “yeah! but, like, i wanted an excuse to go out! but alcohol is so gross.” you replied, a small laugh leaving your lips as you turned your body to face him fully, leon let out a low hum. “so, you decided to get all dressed up and go to a bar.. just to get a soda? c’mon, at least get a drink.” leon pressed, glancing over at the bartender before looking back at you. “it’s part of the bar experience, sweetheart.” he said, waving his hand in a swift moment as he spoke, you squirmed in your seat, biting your bottom lip, “mmm, i don’t know.. what do you think i’d like?” 

leaning back against his stool, leon let out a small laugh, “i don’t know, sweetheart. a strawberry margarita? you like strawberries, yeah? it’s a nice fruity drink, something you can handle.” he nodded, watching as the bartender slid over a glass of soda. 

taking the glass, you moved it over to your lips, popping the red straw into your mouth before taking a sip. “are you gonna buy it for me?” you teased, batting your eyelashes up at him before you crossed your legs. huffing, leon let out a small laugh, “what’s in it for me?” did you really think you could drain his wallet and not give him anything in return? c’mon.

“uhm.. you’d make me, like, super happy,” you said, a smile curling on your lips as he stared at him. 

“as pretty as your smile is i’m gonna need something more.” he said, you’re already smiling, why would he pay ten bucks to see you smile more? sure, he had the money, but did he want to give it? nah. 

“aww,” you whined, “okay, you can get anything you want, mister!” you caved, voice high pitched and cheery. “but, like, as long as it’s not like, i don’t know..wanting my organs or something, i can totally give it to you!” you said, giving him a playful wink. were you being serious? anything? c’mon, that was just too easy, a small smirk curled on his lips at your words, anything?

letting out a breath through his nose, leon crossed his arms over his chest, his leather jacket squeaking at the movement. 

“you’re way too eager, sweetheart. you’ll end up in the wrong hands if you continue like that.” he said, moving his head to the side and shifting in his seat, pushing his hips forward, his thighs spreading slightly. manspreading like any other guy at the bar, but your eager eyes flickered down to his pants, watching as the denim fabric curled on his lap.

a spark of thought hit you, your thighs clenched together as a small laugh left your lips, your head moved to the side and you waved his words off. 

“c’mon, mister, i’m a big girl— i can toootally handle myself!” you giggled, moving your finger to curl around your hair. 

leon let out a hum, not believing a word you said. 

“yeah? you can?” he mused, he knew you didn’t.

you nodded though, perking up on your chair, arching your back slightly to keep your posture upright and your tits pushed out. leon took a glance, leopard print shirt that barely fit and a push up bra, your tits were squeezed together in a full display. were you good at tit jobs? with a rack like that, he sure hoped you were.

“well, duh! i’m like, super good at handling myself, mister!” you rebutted, putting your hands on your hips as you hit the power pose, trying to prove your point. 

“leon,” he said, your head tilted to the side, “leon?” you asked stupidly. 

“that’s my name.”

“ohh.”

you were real cute, but damn, you were real stupid too. 

it didn’t take a scientist to figure it out, fuck, look at you. 

you stared at leon like a puppy— a stupid puppy look. not a single worry behind your dumb little eyes, you believed the world was at the palm of your hand, and it probably was. from the stories you told him you were nothing more than daddy’s princess, one pout, and dear old dad was pulling out his checkbook and writing off a fat check with how much money you asked for. he was even paying for your apartment, you had it nice, no need to study or learn, daddy’s inheritance would cover any of your worries. 

you reminded him of ashley, like a far memory, but ashley was a sweetheart. a smart girl, but you? you were just spoiled and stupid, he didn’t mind though, he could easily deal with you if he wanted to. 

leon noticed how you stared at him when he spoke, wide doe eyes focused on him intently like he was the messiah while you were nothing more than an apostle, like the words that slipped from his tongue were the route to salvation. it was silly, he was just some guy in his thirties, buzzed, and in a bar— were you one of those girls that were into that? the cute bimbos that wanted nothing more than a taste of cock from guys over half their age? probably, he’s already caught you sneaking glances at his pants, each shift and adjustment had your eyes glued to his crotch, thinking you were being slick. 

god, what a cock hungry whore. 

he had noted that as he spoke, you would nod along to his words with such eagerness, it made him wonder if you were even listening to him. 

c’mon, his mundane stories weren’t that interesting, maybe if he was honest about his job then he could understand why you seemed so interested, but he was sure if he uttered a single word about the undead the government would have his head. a red little glow dot resting against his forehead and that would be the end of leon scott kennedy. 

the government blew up an entire city with the infected and innocents without care to preserve their image. after all, one more life wouldn’t worry them. well, maybe his, leon’s the president’s lap dog after all—

nonetheless, those were secrets he wasn’t going to share with a nice pair of tits. you probably wouldn’t even understand.

you spoke a lot, with a cute little valley girl accent, the words like and totally were practically engraved into your vocabulary. If leon took a shot everytime you said any of the words he would’ve died of alcohol poisoning. 

the more you spoke, the more leon realized you didn’t have a sense of safety, it was almost funny. why did he know what high school you went to? what state were you born in? what your favorite doll growing up was? you had just met him and you were letting him in on all your secrets, like that one time you ran over the neighbor's mailbox and fled the scene immediately after, then playing the innocent angel card. or when you cheated on all your trigonometry tests in high school by writing the answers on your upper thigh and then wearing a skirt to have easy access to the answers. in your words, you never got caught because if the teacher asked you to lift your skirt he would be a sick perv! 

he wasn’t complaining, your stories were entertaining at the very least, a nice distraction from his own world. 

by now, leon had given in and gotten you that margarita, only one, sure he wasn’t a saint— he was a guy in his mid-thirties wanting to fuck a girl almost a decade younger than him— but he wasn’t horrible. 

you, on the other hand, had no sense of how to drink alcohol, sipping down the juice like it was juice and the effects were beginning to become apparent by your tittering and giggling. 

you were having a great time, getting looser and sloppier as you continued.

“y’know, leon? you’re like, totally hot! likeee, i haven’t met a guy your age that looks this good!” you babbled, giggling at your own words.

nodding, leon raised an eyebrow, “yeah?” he replied, he was getting force fed compliments by you, it was starting to get annoying, but he wouldn’t say that. 

you were like a puppy, he already made that connection,

but you were definitely one of those overly clingy puppies, the ones that whimpered and whined when their owner wasn’t in the same room they were in. you’d probably do anything to please your hypothetical owner, you already offered to do anything for a margarita, god knows the skies the limit with bimbos like you. 

he wondered if you would follow him out of the bar, like a puppy. where are we going? can i come with you? can you take me in?— okay, maybe not that last part, but he couldn’t be too sure. 

you’d have some cute floppy ears as a pup, leon thinks, but that was enough of the puppy metaphors, you were still giggling and babbling stupidities. 

after a bit of buttering up, leon decided that if he wanted to make a move on you, it was now more than ever.

you would be more than willing, that’s for sure.

taking out his wallet and calling over the bartender, leon fished out his black american express— sure, it was a silent brag, but he didn’t care. 

“i’ll pay for the lady’s drinks too,” leon explained as he signaled over to his side, the man nodded and took his card before stepping away to finish the transaction. you stared at the older man with stars behind your eyes, sparkling under the dim yellow light, “you’re so sweet,” you began, leaning in against his arm, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

your arms wrapped around him, hugging it, squeezing and feeling the muscle under the jacket that just so did a good job at hiding his build. 

your brain was starting to melt as you squeezed his biceps, “can i make it up for you? i can pay you back,” you cooed, words slurred slightly as you nuzzled your head against his jacket. it smelled nice, he smelled nice. his cologne was almost sweet, and masculine, but not musky and gross, it was so nice, he was just so nice. 

leon glanced down at you, taking back his credit card as he did so. 

you were so fucking desperate to get fucked it was almost laughable.

“you can make it up to me,” he hummed, his arm slipping around your smaller waist, his hand coming to rest against your hip, squeezing the flesh. 

“c’mon,” he nudged, patting your hip before he stood up from the stool and took hold of your hand, leading you away from the bar. it almost seemed like he was taking you to the back exit, was his car back there? you followed behind him, clinging onto his arm, you were nothing more than arm candy for him. 

as the music got softer and the chatter died down, leon lead you down the small hallway in the back of the bar, by where the bathrooms were. 

you assumed you would just walk past them and slip out through the back door, but instead, leon’s arm moved to rest behind your back, letting you walk in front of him before he pushed you into the men’s bathroom. 

stumbling, your gaze moved around the new setting. “leon! you didn’t need to push!” you whined, fixing your skirt as you looked back at the older man. leon was by the door, his hand holding the door knob as he shut the door behind him and locked it. “sorry, sweetheart, couldn’t have anyone see you. you’re not supposed to be in here.” he said, a small huff of amusement leaving his lips as he moved to face you. “men’s,” he reminded, pointing over at the singular urinal by the toilet. 

“oh, yeah,” you said, suddenly not seeing an issue with his actions. 

“why are we here?” you asked curiously, leaning against the sink, the bathroom was small, just a single-person layout. “you said you wanted to make it up for me, right?” leon reminded, you nodded, your head tilting to the side. “well, you’re gonna make it up to me here, that’s not a problem, right? there’s no harm in a bit of thrill.” he waved off.

“wait, we’re gonna fuck here? but that’s like, totally gross!” you whined, your lips curling into a small pout, leon stepped closer, “it’s not that bad, it’s just a bathroom.” he shrugged, he’s been in worse situations. he’s ran through sewers, lived off scraps in spain, and didn’t have access to showers, he’s been covered in blood and zombie guts before— safe to say, a meek little bathroom at a bar was the least of his worries. 

“but like, the floor is gross and sticky!” you whined, why couldn’t he take you back to his place? that’s so not cool! 

leon hummed, moving to press your body against the porcelain sink of the bathroom, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your hips nicely. “i’m not gonna throw you against the floor, sweetheart, relax,” he said, a small breath leaving his lips as he moved one of his hands against your upper back, applying pressure and bending you over the sink. your manicured hands moved and gripped the sides of the sink as your head leaned up. 

you locked eyes with leon through the mirror, he had the same brooding expression he’s been holding for most of the evening. 

leon’s gaze moved from your back to your pretty face as he gazed at you through the mirror, icy blue eyes meeting your warmer ones. “i’m gonna keep you here, yeah? bent over and pretty, so relax.” he explained, his hands moving back down to your hips, sliding down to grip your ass. he squeezed the flesh of your ass before his hands slipped your denim skirt up. 

“cute,” he complimented, tone coming out more monotone than he intended. you were wearing these cute literally lace panties, they were a cutesy little pastel pink. 

did you always wear these out or were you wearing these just so any guy that wanted to fuck you saw?

your face heated up, your eyebrows furrowing up slightly at his words as you glanced at him. a small whine left your lips, “do you like them?” you asked softly, arching your back nicely, popping your ass out, the curve of it showing off the cute little panties like it was a lingerie ad. or screenshot of a porn video. “yeah,” leon replied, “who are you trying to impress, sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing the curve of your ass idly. 

you bit your bottom lip and swayed your hips twice to side in a slow motion, “you?” cheeky. leon let out a scoffing laugh as his hand moved away from your ass before it came back down, smacking your flesh, your body jolted in surprise. “leon!” ouch! what the fuck! “sorry, i couldn’t help it.” leon said from behind you, looking at the mirror, you noticed the lazy smirk on his lips. 

“you’re mean, at least give me a warning.” you whined, “that would take away the fun, don’t be a baby.” leon grumbled.

pursing your lips, you let out a small huff, asshole!

leon’s hands moved to your panties, hooking his fingers around the waistband before he tugged them down unceremoniously. he was sloppy and drunk, besides, this was a quick bathroom fuck, he wasn’t going to play like the man of your dreams.

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you felt the bathroom breeze caress your exposed skin. 

leon didn’t care enough to push your panties down to your ankles, deciding to just leave them by your mid-thigh.

his hands reached back up to your ass before he angled your hips up slightly and slipped down to his knees. “leon—?” you were just about to ask what he was doing before you were cut off by a gasp being ripped out of your lungs, feeling his warm tongue press against your puffy pussy. 

leon’s lips were pressed against your cunt, one hand holding your thigh up as your weight rested on the porcelain sink, the edge of the sink still digging against your pelvis uncomfortably— but the attention to your pussy was making the discomfort a forgotten thought.

“leon!” you squeaked, your hand squeezing the sink as he sloppily licked and sucked on your cunt. 

was it the best head you’ve ever gotten? no, but you didn’t care— given that it was an older man and hotter than any grimy guy your age, you didn’t really care! 

huffing against your cunt, leon slipped his tongue between your folds, he wasn’t doing this to get you off either, but he didn’t have lube, so spit was the second-best option. with his eyes shut, his nails dug into your thighs, savoring the taste of your cunt. 

you kept your back arched and your ass stuck out as small mewls and whines left your glossy lips, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as your breathing got shaky. 

his licks were quick and sloppy, his own spit rolling down his chin, making his skin glossy before she pulled away from your cunt— a line of drool connecting his tongue and your cunt. 

you let out a noise of displeasure, that was so quick and anti-climactic!

standing back up, leon huffed as he stared down at you, catching the pout on your lips. “what? did you want me to go in without prep?” he asked, letting out a small breathy laugh, “should’ve just told me.” he shrugged, his hands slipping down to his pants as he sloppily undid his belt, fumbling with the leather.

“what? no!” without prep? that would hurt! 

“then stop pouting.” leon bit back. 

slipping his cock out of his pants, he let out a shaky breath as his hand wrapped around it. beating his fist around his dick, leon huffed, feeling his cock come to life slowly— the whiskey was making it hard to keep his cock up, but eventually, he managed a semi. 

good enough. 

moving his cock against your slick cunt, leon nudged the tip against your warm pussy, teasing your folds. letting out a small breath through parted lips, your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling. 

tilting his head to the side as his gaze stayed focused on your cunt, watching your spit covered folds spread as he rubbed his tip up and down your slit, slipping it under before he slapped his shaft against your puffy clit, watching your shoulders tense at the feeling:

“g’nna put it in,” leon mumbled, slurring his words slightly.

“o-okay.”

slipping his tip back against your slit, leon nudged his cock forward, his tip pushing apart your walls, they eagerly spread— warm and wet, welcoming his cock nicely. 

sucking in a sharp breath, leon clenched his jaw as his lips pursed, fuck, was the only thought in his mind.

feeling his cock push past your pussy walls in a slow, savoring pace, your eyes fluttered as they rolled back, your lips parting as a shallow gasp left your lips. gripping the porcelain sink, you whined. “leon..” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip as you raised your gaze to look at him through the mirror. 

“yeah?” he mused, his hips and thighs resting flat against your ass as he held your hips. meeting his gaze, his own eyes were lidded, face flushed pink, “i haven’t even started n’you’re already whimpered like a puppy.” he huffed, moving one hand to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he yanked it back— making your back arch almost painfully. 

a sharp yelp left your lips at the movement, “..leave me alone,” you replied to his tease, your eyes shutting. 

leon said nothing in reply, instead, he pulled his hips back, feeling your walls hug him snugly, a shuddering breath leaving his lips as he did so. you might be a fucking idiot, but your pussy was making his brain numb. 

gasping out a moan, you felt his cock pull back before it slipped back inside your cunt, his cock nuzzling against your cervix. your pussy was practically a fleshlight if leon thought about it. 

drunk bathroom sex wasn’t something out of a dream or a porno, it wasn’t meant to be meticulous and romantic, it was gross and sloppy— that’s what this was. leon’s cock stuffing in and out of your pretty pussy at an uneven pace, hard, fast, and sloppy. 

“f—fuck—“ you choked out, your hand moving to rest against the mirror as you clung desperately onto something. your eyes were shut, lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as his cock bullied your pussy, “s-slow down!” you squeaked. leon groaned, “you can take it, relax.“ he muttered, hips snapping against yours, heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit. 

letting out a drawn-out moan, you shook your head dumbly, your brain mushy, “no..” you mumbled. yes, you could take it, if anything, you wanted it, but what happened to having fun? leon let out a small grunt, gripping your hair and making you arch more— he leaned over slightly and pressed a small kiss on your forehead, “your pussy is telling me otherwise, sweetheart.” he cooed, letting go of your hair before he gripped your forearms and brought them to your back, keeping them flush against your back before using them as leverage to continue fucking your cunt.

your eyes rolled back as your body rested against the porcelain, fuck! you were so turned on it was hard to place it into words—! you couldn’t even speak. 

guttural moans were leaving your lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, squeezing and gripping, sucking his cock back inside you greedily. 

while leon fucked you, he realized how increasingly louder you were getting. your pretty moans were nothing but an ego boost, but he shouldn’t be fucking a twenty-something-year-old girl in a public bathroom, he doubts the shitty country music that played through the bar speakers was going to be able to drown out your noise if you continue, so he moved to grip your wrists in one hand before he reached out from behind you and clasped over your mouth.

your cunt squeezed, “shhh,” leon cooed, “can’t let people hear you, remember?” he reminded, making sure you kept quiet. nodding, you moaned into his hand and squirmed, cheek pressed against the porcelain. 

mid-fuck, leon’s drunken mind realized something— 

he needed to fucking piss. 

he hasn’t realized it before, but now, his lower belly was aching, his full bladder making sure it’s known. 

he tried to ignore it, he just wanted to cum, honestly— but as he continued to slip his cock in and out of your cunt, the more his bladder ached. the organ crying out at him, all that whiskey from earlier was now aching to come out.. how many drinks did he have before? he doesn’t even remember. 

the pressure in his belly was increasing, he could feel his bladder tossle as he moved, if he pressed on his lower belly right now— right above his pubic bone— it would probably be hard. it was like a balloon, jesus. 

letting out a small hiss, leon muttered an “oh, fuck,” moving his hand from your mouth back to your hip, gripping the fat of your hip tightly. his brow furrowing and jaw clenching as he shut his eyes. 

he could pull out, sure, but he was already do fucking close— “..what happened?” you babbled after hearing the mutter coming from the older man after his hips stilled.

leon glanced over at your face through the mirror, you looked fucked out and faced, face of a fucking pornstar. 

“i gotta take a piss.” he mumbled, his hips stilling, but his cock still nuzzled inside you. “huh?” you mumbled, peeking your head up to meet his gaze through the mirror. “i have to piss.” he repeated, his face was flushed, was it because was embarrassed? because he was in the middle of fucking? or because he was drunk? he didn’t know. 

your mind wasn’t going— too stupid and fucked out to even think straight. 

“then go pee—“ you mumbled, assuming he needed to pull out and take a piss before coming back. 

leon stared down at your cunt, feeling your gummy walls squeeze him real nice, “how about i piss inside you?” he breathed, finding his words humorous, this seemed to bring you back to reality as your head perked up. “w-what?!” you squealed, “ew! don’t do that!” you argued, pee was gross already! and inside you? that’s worse!

leon let out an amused breath, “it’s just pee, sweetheart, why the fuzz?” he mumbled, sucking in a breath and feeling his bladder squeeze, making him shudder.

he already made up his mind.

leaning over you, leon pressed his body weight on your back, keeping you sandwiched over the sink. “everyone pees, don’t get all shy on me now.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder as you whimpered, your cunt squeezing him nicely. “no.. it’s so icky..” you mumbled, letting out a small breath.

“then why are you squeezing me so tight?” his lips pressed against your skin, one of his hands slipping under your body and moving to press against your own lower belly, right above your pubic bone, he kept a firm pressure against your tummy.

“why lie to me?” he mused, “you’re practically choking my dick, if anything it’s like you want me to piss inside you.” he laughed, the alcohol in his system was staining his conscience in his moment. if he was sober, he wouldn’t have even thought about taking a piss inside of someone, but he wasn’t sober, and alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t. so here he was. 

you shook your head slightly, but your cunt stayed tight, fluttering around him, were you really getting turned on by the idea of this man pissing inside you? what happened to you? what would your best friends say if they found out you were letting an older guy fuck you in a gross bathroom and finding it hot he wants to piss inside you? 

leon shuddered, okay— wait, it was getting harder to hold it in. becoming borderline painful. sucking in a breath, he shut his eyes, pressing his nose against your skin, he took in a deep breath— taking in the smell of your sickly sweet strawberry perfume, “i’m gonna piss.” he grunted out, a final warning for simple generosity. 

he might be a creep for fucking a dumb girl in a bar bathroom, but he wasn’t fucking evil. 

at least that’s what he tells himself.

keeping his body pressed against your own, his belly pressing against your curved back, keeping you trapped against the porcelain. 

letting out a shaky breath, leon let himself go, a type of bliss he hadn’t felt in a while enveloped him as the pressure in his bladder released. 

your eyes widened at the feeling, it was so weird! it was an icky full feeling, you could feel it slip out of you, staining your pretty pussy, thighs, panties, and floor. you winced, your eyes shutting, a small frown on your lips as you imagined who was going to clean this mess up. leon’s stream was long and hot, your shoulders were tense, feeling your pussy get filled with his warm piss— ew! 

“s’gross..” you gasped, squirming. 

“shh,” leon mumbled, keeping his hand firm against your lower tummy. 

once he finished, leon let out a deep moan, pissing with a hard-on was fucking hard! but finally, his bladder didn’t feel like it was going to explode, he pressed his face against your shoulder, his body shivering as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you. he let out a panting breath, his hips resting flush against your ass, you let out a small breath, with his body pressing against you and forcing you against the sink it was making it hard to breathe. 

“i can’t breathe—“ you gasped, clawing at the sink.

a small grunt left leon’s lips as he heard you, “shit, sorry.” he mumbled, pulling his body away from yours. moving your head up, you arched your back and took in a deep breath, feeling your pussy squelch, you swear there’s still some piss clogged up inside your cunt. 

your face felt hot, you were about to ask what he was planning to do now, but he beat you to it, moving his hips tentatively, feeling your cunt squeeze and squelch. his hands moved to your hips, squeezing your ass, his dull nails digging into your skin as his thrusts picked up the speed— finding the same sloppy pace from before. 

your brain was fuzzy, your head tilting to the side as a high pitched moan left her lips. 

leon’s cock rubbed against your gummy walls, rubbing against the spongy little spot right by your tummy that had you gasping. you bit your bottom lip and then whined, you had to keep quiet, remember? 

his balls kept slapping against your clit, kissing that bundle of nerves whenever his hips pressed against your ass. leon groaned— another sensation filling his lower belly, blossoming like a pretty flower as his balls swelled up. shutting his eyes, his pace started to get erratic, fucking into you like you were some sex doll, mumbling curses, he leaned his head back, his lips parting as he panted. 

squealing as he bullied your cunt, you whimpered, your words getting caught in your throat. you couldn’t think, you could barely even breathe, your pussy hugging his cock. 

“are you on the pill?” leon asked through gritted teeth as he fucked you— you couldn’t even process what he said, so you only moaned pathetically, “sweetheart,” he said, a little louder to bring you out of your brain fog, his hand moving to rest against the back of your head, “w—wha?” you babbled, “are you on the pill?” he repeated against, tugging at your hair, you whimpered and shook your head, birth control gave you ache! you quit it immediately! 

letting out a small groan, leon nodded, mumbling a small, “okay.” before he let go of your hair. 

your head fell downwards as his thrusts stayed rhythmless and sloppy, his balls felt like they were going to explode, but he didn’t want to pull out, fuck.

“cumming—“ he gasped, his cock twitching eagerly before his cum spurted out of his tip. moaning, he gave you a final thrust, nuzzling his cock inside your pretty pussy before his cum came out in small drools, filling you up nicely. 

your lips quivered as your walls pulsed around his cock, leon stayed still for a few moments, enjoying the last bits of his orgasm before he pulled out of your pussy— watching as his cum leaked out of your cunt before he shuddered. he stepped back, giving the puddle of piss on the floor a glace as he scowled— post nut clarity hitting him. 

oops.

he pulled his jeans back up and shoved his cock back inside his pants before letting out a small breath. 

whining, you moved your hand to your pussy, nimble fingers finding your clit as you rubbed it, “m’leon..” you mumbled, sticking your ass up as your back arched. leon looked back at you, “mhm?” he hummed, “help me.” you whined, still toying with your clit.

oh yeah, you haven’t cum yet. 

he typically wasn’t the type to stick around after a hookup, the magic dies after cumming, but he did piss inside you, the least he could do was get you off. 

“yeah, yeah, gimme a sec.” he mumbled as he zipped his pants up and fumbled with his belt before he stepped closer. 

he reached out, pulling you away from the sink, “c’mere,” he said as you finally got to stand up straight before he stumbled back and plopped down onto the toilet, sitting you on his lap before he spread your legs. he pulled you flush again his body, resting his head on your shoulder as his hands slipped down your tummy before finding your puffy clit. 

once his fingertips pressed against the nub, you shuddered, biting your bottom lip while you grasped his other hand as it was wrapped around your waist. 

leon was quiet as he rubbed your clit, feeling your squirm and twitch in his arms. 

whimpering, your eyebrows furrowed upward as your head leaned back, your orgasm wasn’t too far at least, after a few minutes of moans and gasps, your body tensed. your pussy felt hot, full, and soppy, “leon,” you gasped, wishing his fingers worked faster! 

he let out a small hum in reply, not really bothering to put effort — he was too drunk for that. 

as the tight coil in your lower belly tightened and tightened, a sharp gasp left your lips as it snapped, your hips shuddered as you came. 

your thighs clamped together, trapping leon’s hand between your plush thighs as you rode out your orgasm. your grip on his arm was still tight, your manicured nails digging into his leather jacket while you rolled your hips against his arm, practically humping his hand as you savored the friction against your cunt. 

“there you go,” leon cooed, pressing a small kiss on the side of your neck before he fished out his hand from between your thighs, watching his fingers glisten from your slick.

your legs trembled as you took in a deep breath, leon pushed you up, making you stand. he fixed your skirt and glanced down at your piss-stained panties, “uh,” he began, “you can throw those away.” he said, feeling guilty for ruining such a cute pair. you frowned, “but they’re my favorite..” you whined, they were so cute! and sure, you could take them home and wash them, but you didn’t want to parade around town with pissy panties, getting pissed in was enough for tonight.

sighing heavily, leon scratched his chin, feeling his stubble scratch his skin before he dug into his jacket pocket and dug out his wallet, “here,” he said as he finished out some cash, “get yourself a new pair, sweetheart.” he said, see he wasn’t so bad. “get yourself a plan b while you’re at it.” he said, handing you the cash.

blinking dumbly at him, you took the money, “huh?” 

leon stared back at you, god. fucking idiot. 

“get yourself a new pair of those cute panties, yeah?” he began, you nodded, “and get a plan b too.” he repeated. the clueless look on your face was both making him want to bash his head against a wall while also wanting to shove his cock in your mouth. “do you wanna get pregnant?” he asked, his tone having a hint of frustration in it. 

you shook your head, “exactly.” he sighed. 

“a plan b will help you not do that.” he explained, finally, a look of realization hit your fucked out face, “ohhh.” you said softly as you fisted the cash. 

“well—“ what the fuck does he say now? ‘thanks for letting me fuck you!’ no! that’s sounded stupid, fuck. 

letting out an exhale, he took your arm and nudged you forward. “come on,” he said before he guided you out of the bathroom, his steps were sped up since he didn’t want to be seen leaving the bathroom with a fucked out girl. 

once outside, leon noticed you were still following him like a lost puppy. 

“what are you doing?” he asked, did you not have better things to do? you were practically attached to his hip, “what?” you asked as you blinked slowly, “why are you following me?” he asked, a bit perturbed by your clinginess. 

you paused, “i don’t know.. i wanna go with you.” 

leon chewed on the inside of his cheek. he should’ve known you would’ve wanted to stick around— he had that thought before, but he didn’t think you would actually want to stay at his side.

moving to rub his forehead, leon let out a breath. 

c’mon, don’t pull on his heart strings like that. he couldn’t just leave you on the side of the road after a fuck like that. besides, you stared at him with those doe eyes of yours, you really looked like a lost puppy. 

“fine, okay, c’mon.” he sighed as he lead you to his motorcycle.

what the fuck did he get himself into?

TAGS! @nilpill @rigorwhoring @dollivication @gor3-hound @v0lturiaq @withonly-sweetheart @pupsmoke @flutterylust @angelstargel @ghosty-the-doll @mydarlingclaudia @lolachannel @t1nyb0nes @mj_el2709 @kerredgraveblog @tr3nzit444s @lilbunnyelle @cigarett3wif3

[pupdollie]

just finished spending days traveling and have wifi again 💔💔 who gaf 💔

[pupdollie]

BUG HUNT !!! :3 this took like a month DONT do thsi to me AGAIN!!!!

[pupdollie]

slobbers all over you affectionately

[pupdollie]

Her Leon

[pupdollie]

im sad right now but im thinking about dad leon...again.. whoops. he sees you sitting there all sad n' shit, frowning. "the hell are you depressed for? i give you everything you could ever ask for" without warning, he pulls you onto his lap, giving you a sloppy kiss that makes you all squirmish while his huge hands cup your asscheeks with a light smack ahhhh;;; and then he pulls back, looking at you with a smirk "how bout' we go on a shopping spree hm?" knowing you love going shopping and spending his money... hes like your personal sugar daddy (quite literally!) it works like a charm everytime! he makes you giddish, buys you whatever you want and most likely dicks you down to make you feel better n' you fall for it every time <3

IM SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT HIM TERRIBLY

FAWKKKSKWKSKSKSKD PUBBY MY LOVE!!!! FUCK THIS IS SO HOT I CANTAUSJJEJDD DADLEONENSSDD NGHHSSSS…. cums in my pants…nghshshhsdhhhh….

no cuz i heart this breed of dad leon where he’s like a dickhead and gross?? i heart you pubby FUCFUCKFUCKKKK OKOKOM adding my two cents :3

i can def see that happening, he’s like so stupid. type of dad that thinks that material things are the way to apologize after an argument 😒 but it’s okay cuz who doesn’t like using daddy’s money, right? besides, dad likes to spoil you, especially when he gets you the cute clothes you like. like, yes baby you look really pretty with that skirt, but make sure to not wear any pants under it for daddy, you know that’s how he likes it!!

and YEAH! he’s gonna fuck you, cuz LOL we said so!! when you get home you make sure to put on all the clothes he got you on as a small fashion show, leon isn’t really interested in the cute clothes, but he likes to see you smile and likes to see how your ass peaks out under the skirt as well as how the low neckline shirts you have on push out your tits nicely.. and yeah.. he gets hard after.. time to see if that cute skirt from before has easy access!

[pupdollie]

he thinks he's funny

[pupdollie]

And if you were my little girl

you've never been close to your dad on a surface level way, or even in a deep way. but after he finds out some of your illicit activities, you guys share your deep, twisted ways.

warnings: incest (real dad leon! X real daughter! reader), noncon/dubcon, degradation/condescension, humiliation, choking, oral (m receieving), mentions of sex work, spitting, filming during sex, unprotected sex, mentions of aftercare. leon’s basically a sexist pig who thinks his daughter is a slut, and deserves to be fucked like one (kick him in the nuts for me plz)

word count: 4.7k

an: HAPPY (belated) FATHERS DAY!! in celebration of my daddy issues i am finally finishing this WIP i've been sitting on :3 i hope y'all enjoy it and more will be on the way!! much luv <3 as always critique, reposts and requests are welcome!

18+ under the cut. MDNI, go touch grass.

Leon’s been a single dad for a while, and ugly girls like you have been ugly for a while. And he looks at you like an ugly girl. Tells you not to get tattoos, never let you get a boyfriend, shit like that. Like it's still the 50s. Probably because that's the only time in the world where he could get pussy. That's why he treats you like shit, and why you and him are addicted to sex. The performance of it. It's all you do ever since you turned 18. And you clean up nice enough. But deep down you're still an ugly, lonely girl. You’d expect your dad to understand, since both of you hide your sickening flaws from each other and the world.

You remember when your mom first told you why they actually got divorced. Cheated on her with your friend’s mom. It sucked, and it made you feel guilty. But after a while it started to form this formidable snowball of awful shit he did that you had no idea about. Money spent on her, money spent on a bunch of random young women, it's all he did. Your mom didn't even have to tell you about it, you found it yourself. You don't exactly remember the age you were when you went through his laptop. You were just a horny preteen trying to watch porn on anything that wasn't your flimsy IPad Mini (thanks dad). His files were still open when you flipped up the screen, and you could see the thumbnail of him having sex with a woman.

Same woman, you could tell from the botched boob job and chunky blonde highlights. You never knew why your dad went for the trashiest type of woman. He was like a Greek god, sculpted in the womb to be gorgeous. Every synonym for gorgeous could apply to him. You could never understand why your mom had the dignity to divorce him and fuck you up in the head, because if it were you? You’d stick by his side even if he was the biggest piece of shit since his own father. But the difference was your mother was also just as pretty, and you aren't. That's probably why she says all the things she does to you. Why she had enough of you, so much so that she forced you to go live with Daddy instead, so she can finally move on from the mess he created with someone new. Because you're Daddy’s girl. Always has been. At the end of the day, as much as you and your dad refuse to say it out loud, you're all you two have left. No mother, no siblings, no partner, no friends. Just two sex pests left to fuck the entire world until you both die.

That image of him fucking that woman never left your mind. It was dirty, and downright disgusting. But some sick part of you got addicted to it, like a parasite eating away at your brain. You tried to act like he was horrible while you grew up, acted like him fucking women nearly your age was a deplorable act. Until you got that godforsaken porn addiction, then you started to understand the appeal, and why girls even bothered with him. You blame everything wrong with you on him, because when you look in the mirror, all you can see is traces of him. His eyes, his nose, the two moles on your neck, even his legs. But they don't fit on you. They don't make you as pretty as him. Maybe that's why you're so cold and angry. It's not the depression or whatever the fuck the psychologist told you it was. It was his fault. All Leon’s fault for creating such a screwed up daughter.

Turning 18 was the worst thing that could've happened to you. You didn't even expect to get to this age, but you didn't expect dying to be that scary either. But now you can legally fuck anyone. It's even worse because you're not a virgin either. Well, physically, at least. You took it yourself a while ago because that one summer job gave you enough money to get a plethora of sex toys. You had already met up with a few guys on Tinder after a couple of months, and this one guy just had to hype you up. 

“You look hot when you get fucked.” “Really? And where did this come from?” You were just teasing, because you thought he was doing the same. “C’mon, I’m trying to be serious here. You ever thought of doing Onlyfans or something?” “What? No, why? You think I have potential?” You're really trying to laugh this off, because he must be high if he thinks you'd do well on something so heavily based on looks. “Hell yeah, you already fuck on camera, for free too. Why not use it to make money?” You're silent for a moment, letting it simmer in your head before you verbally brush it off with a simple “I’ll think about it”.

It was nerve wracking, setting up an Onlyfans account. You haven't been able to get a job since that fateful conversation, and months before that too. Your dad hounding you about it hasn't helped either, even though you know he can pay for you and 5 other women without you getting a job. Fuck it, and fuck him too. You could care less about the social or even moral implications about any of this, especially when you're doing this out of pure pettiness. Sure, it annoys you that Leon’s habits make you jealous, but why think about it? If you do, you might just realize how badly you wish you were those young women. How badly you wish he paid for your things and did it with a smile and praise. If only.

“Y/n? Get off your phone, I gotta talk to you.” You slip the right side of your headphones off to your dad’s booming voice, sitting up slightly on your bed to give him your attention. Just making eye contact has your stomach doing somersaults, but you try to ignore it. Put on the face of someone who isn't deathly obsessed with your hot dad. “I get that you're trying your best to find a job and help me out, but what is this?” You're a little confused at first, until he tosses his phone at you, a screenshot of your Tinder profile stunning you in place.

if you fuck me good enough, be ready to get your camera out ;)

You finally regret that bio you spent hours on. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, but it snaps a neuron in your brain. Why hide this from your dad? He’s the first person you know who should get this. “What do you mean? You know what it is.” You shrug and give him a nonchalant expression, looking back at your phone like it meant nothing to you. “You're damn right I do, now start explaining yourself.” “What is there to explain? I feel like you'd be the first person to know what I get out of that.” He looks at you dumbfounded for a moment, but it seems like the realization that he put an ungrateful slut out into the world seemed to settle in his dark features. 

“So that's it? You're becoming a pornstar?” “That's not the only reason I'm on that app and you know it.” You finally set your phone down, locking it as you turn your headphones off. Seeing how pissed he looked nearly made your thighs twitch, but you're really trying to reel it in. All the times he got pissy or smug at you, he had to have known how wet your panties would get. “Don't tell me you have actually gone out and fucked one of these old creeps. I didn't raise you like this.” “Oh? You didn't?” You finally raise your voice like he has, sharing his outburst of anger. Like father, like daughter. Even in the way your brows scrunch together to form the same scowl as him. “You've been those old creeps on those apps for as long as I can remember but the second I become one of the sluts you fucked it isn't okay? How is that fair?” The look of disgust or maybe horror plagues his face, and it surprises you a bit. Did he really have no clue that you knew? There was no way he was so stupid that he didn't realize why you were always so cold and short with him. He really never figured out why you never had a boyfriend? He scared them all away anyways.

“Just because you know something you shouldn't doesn't mean it's true, that was adult business that had nothing to do with you.” You scoff and roll your eyes, he always tried to act like nothing was his fault. Such a man. “Nothing to do with me? You introduced me to them! Do you have any idea what that did to me? Of course you don't care,” You throw your hands up in mock defeat, standing up from your spot on your bed, ready to get up in his face. “All you care about is being right.” Your expression is the definition of fuck around and find out, because you're at your breaking point with him. You're always at your breaking point, but him acting so much better than you was just bullshit. He's just as deplorable as you, because you learned from him. “That's all I care about? That's what you think? And what, you're some cute little saint above it all?” You get stumped a bit by his question, because you never said that. You can sit there and admit you're just as bad as him, but the difference is he made you like this. Why can't he understand that? “That's not what I said-” “Show me your phone.” You're stunned into silence, your face heating up in an odd mixture of embarrassment and sick arousal from his harshness, backing away from him slowly. “Why are you asking to see my phone?..” “Don't be fucking stupid, you know why I'm asking.” You shudder as his voice escalates, and you scramble to grab your phone, scared to open it in front of him.

You sheepishly hand it to him, knowing you just made the worst decision of your life. You basically sealed your fate the second you tried to go toe to toe with him. He even makes you open the phone in front of him, and the first thing he’s greeted with is you bent over with a belt around your neck, a man behind you tugging on it. “Jesus, so this is what you do when you go ‘hang out with friends’?” Your face burns hot, and you can’t even think of a witty remark. “Fucking answer me.” His voice booms louder, making you jump and whimper. “Yes, I lied, I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t mean to..” Your voice becomes frantic and broken in mere seconds, looking down at your feet. Leon’s hand grabs at your jaw, your eyes wide as you’re forced to look him in the eye. “When did you become such a slut?” “‘M not-” Your words are cut off by his palm slamming against your cheek, not bothering to soothe the sting as he grabs hold of your jaw again, pressing your cheeks together as he shakes your head, as if he was rattling around a pebble in your skull. “You and your fucking lies, if you’re gonna be a goddamn slut then admit it. Say you’re a slut.” 

You can feel the stinging on your cheek match the pulsing in your cunt, your thighs twitching as you look up at him like you do to all those men. “I- I’m a slut..” You can’t help but glance down in embarrassment, catching his cock stiff under his jeans. He’s hard from this. “God, and you can’t even keep your eyes up here.” He presses his thumb harder into your cheek, snapping you out of your state. “Even if it’s your own father, you still crave dick, don’t you?” You couldn’t help but shudder at his words, his voice husky and condescending. It made you sick to your stomach, but your whole body was hot with need. “I don’t, this isn’t right, Dad-” “This isn’t right? So fucking people behind my back like a whore is what’s right?” You shake your head, barely able to move in his grasp. 

“You know what? Since you wanna be a slut so bad, let me help you.” He moves his hand to your scalp, forcing you on your knees. You struggle to push away from him, your hands clawing at his thighs, but his hold on your hair is too strong. Unable to get away, you kneel in defeat and watch as he fumbles with his belt, salivating at the sight of his cock under his boxers. You gasp when he finally pulls it out, your eyes trained on the bead of pre-cum that drips onto his knuckles, your lips pressed together tightly as he inches his tip towards you. “C’mon sweetie, I know you know how to suck dick, don’t make me open your mouth for you.” How much had he really seen of you? You still struggle and try your hardest to keep your mouth shut, until he groans and pinches your nose, making you gasp for air before pushing his cock between your lips. He wastes no time shoving your head down, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as his fingers move away from your nose, gripping your jaw again but less rough. 

“Seeing you like that was fucking infuriating, I raised you better.” He groaned as he felt your nose press against his pelvis, his cock kicking on your tongue. “But if living like a depraved whore is what you want, I’ll give it to you,” He tapped your cheek, making your nails dig into his thighs. “So hollow your fucking cheeks and suck my cock like a good whore.” You moan around him, doing as he said and letting go of any moral high ground in your head. What’s the point in fighting it? He’s trying to give you a fatherly lesson, and you’re happy to make him dad of the year. You stop struggling, letting him move your head as your tongue swirls around his length, drool spilling down your chin as you gag with every thrust. The messy sounds you make send shivers down your spine, the throbbing in your clit becoming unbearable, so much so that your hand instinctively slips under the waistband of your shorts, moaning as you feel how soaked your panties are.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Leon, who moves your legs more open with the toe of his boot, making him laugh at you. “Fuck, would you look at that? Can't keep your hand off that needy pussy, huh sweetheart?” You pull away from his cock, his hand still cradling your jaw as you press kisses to his tip. You can feel small tears in the corners of your eyes from how deep he went down your throat, and for just a moment you think he's going easy on you. “Get off your knees.” You yelp as he tugs on your hair to get you off your knees, practically tossing you onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Bend over. You wanna be a star, right? Daddy’s gonna help, sweetheart.” 

The way he manhandles you makes you feel weak, pathetic as you watch him grab your phone and set it up on your desk. “What are you doing?” Your voice is hoarse, craning your neck to see what he’s doing. “What do you think? You wanna be a pornstar, right? Why have sex if you aren’t gonna film it?” He must’ve lost his mind, does he seriously think he can do this? That no one is gonna realize it’s him in the video? You can barely speak any of the questions in your head when he comes up behind you, roughly wrapping his belt around your neck like the video that was on your phone. Leon pulls you up by the belt, his cock slotted between the fat of your thighs. “You can breathe fine, right, princess?” You can feel the belt tighten on your airways, his question clearly said to wear you down even further. Your hands come up to claw at the belt, but he grabs your hands away and holds them behind your back. “Nod your head.” You shake your head, still resisting when you realize he isn’t even wearing a condom. Not that you’re scared of getting pregnant, you’ve been on the pill for years. You’re just worried about what vile shit he could be ridden with. You’re doubting that initial thought when you consider that sweet government healthcare you two have. “If you don’t nod your head I’m not fucking you.” You can barely suck in enough air when his grip loosens for a couple seconds, desperately nodding your head in hopes that he’ll let you breathe properly. “Good fuckin’ whore, how hard was that, huh, sweetie?” You gasp and choke, having no chance to catch your breath when he notches his tip at your entrance. “You’re not gonna touch me more? I’m barely wet-” Your words are cut off by his cock pushing past your walls, stretching you out. “Who said you deserved it? Whores don’t get princess treatment.” You wince at the feeling, jolting when you feel him spread your ass and spit. “There, now you’re wet.”

You always wondered why women even bothered with your dad, assuming it was the money he had to spare for anyone but you. Fuck all of that, it must be his dick. He’s moving so slow but so deep and it’s driving you crazy, the mere seconds you feel empty making you squirm in his hold. The feeling of his cock leaving you for only a few seconds has you writhing on its own, desperate to feel even more full. “Daddy, please, I want more,” You try to resist the hold he has on your arms to get his attention, making him tug at the belt to pull you closer. “Please? You're moving so slow..” You’re still embarrassed and meek, that isn't gonna fly with him. “Is this innocent act supposed to convince me? C’mon, ask me like a real pornstar, sweetie.” He asks you with that smug look on his face, the smell of his sweat mixing with his cologne more prominent as he leans in. It's hard to muster up a lot of courage when you're fucking your dad on camera, Leon can tell you're hesitant even now. So he tightens his belt on your neck, stilling balls deep inside you to force you to talk. “Daddy, fuck me harder, please! I’m begging, please-” He loosens his grip on the belt, his hips finally slamming into you harshly. “See? How hard was that? Should be natural for a slut like you, just need some dick to coax it out.” He lets go of your arms to sink his nails into the fat of your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you with reckless abandon. You've lost any sense of shame, your voice getting hoarse from how loud you are, the force of Leon’s hips rocking your bed frame. 

You're so cockdrunk you don't notice his hand moved from your hip to your ass, his thumb pressing against your hole. “Dad, what’re you-” You scream when his thumb slips past the resistance of your ass, tightening around his thick digit as he hammers into your cunt. “Dad, stop, it’s too much!” You’re unable to wiggle away from him, his finger hooked in your ass and keeping you like a fleshlight on his cock. “Jesus, do you always bitch this much? No wonder you’re single, you don’t shut the fuck up.” You can practically hear the grin on his face widen as you whine pathetically, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his tip kisses your sweet spot. Leon forces your hole to gape so he can spit in it, making you shudder and keen in disgust as he fucks his spit in your ass with his thumb. “Ugh, god, you’re fucking disgusting..” You mutter under your breath, but Leon picks up on it anyways, god forbid you say what he is. “What was that? C’mon, say it louder.” He tugs you flush against his chest, his hips stilling again. “I said you’re gross.” You’re getting annoyed with how many times he’s stopped moving, but it’s stupid to think you deserve any consideration from your demented father who’s balls deep inside you.

Once your words hit his ears he throws you forward, grabbing your waist to flip you on your back, yelping as he pulls your legs apart. His hand shoots out to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him and ignore his cock twitching against your slick coated thigh. Leon doesn’t even warn you, he just smiles and spit on your cheek, watching as you shiver and recoil away as it drips down your face. “Aww, poor baby, is spit too gross for you too?” He laughs at you, leaning down and licking up his spit from your burning hot cheek. “I’m just trying to teach you, hun, don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” His cocky tone makes your brows knit together, your anger barely getting the chance to fester as he slaps your mound, your hips bucking from the sting. “You’re gonna be good now, right? Are you gonna let Daddy take this pussy as his own?” You violently shake your head, but it isn’t even out of disdain, you want this. You want him to teach you to be good, you want to belong to him. Even if it means being demeaned and spit on, who cares if it gets you off? It’s not like Leon minds. He slaps your pussy again, scoffing at your sad display of pain, sniffling and whimpering in his hold. “Don’t be so mean, princess, you want Daddy to make it all better?” He peppers kisses on your face, licking your tears as they stream down your cheeks, the smell of whiskey drying on your face. 

“Mhm, want Daddy to make it better..” You speak a lot softer than you usually do, and it makes you cringe as he pulls away, only for him to spank your pussy again, crying out from the stinging pain. “Be a good girl and say ‘thank you, daddy, for putting a slut like me in her place’.” His voice gets that mean, commanding tilt to it, like he doesn’t need to force you to look at him anymore, it should be muscle memory. “T-thank you, daddy-” His hand slips down from your face to your clit, his thick fingers rubbing over your chubby folds. “Thank you for putting a slut like me in her place.” You finally get the words out, even if it sounds soft, like it’s a secret between the two of you, yet now it’s gonna be out there for a bunch of degenerates to see. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He slips his cock in, his thumb resting on your clit as he inches his dick in little by little. Leon watches as you lean your head back in ecstasy, that syrupy feeling in your brain coming back as he fucks his cock against that spongy spot in your cunt. “Don’t hide from the camera, sweetheart.” Your thighs twitch around his waist as his thumb starts rubbing hard circles on your clit, making your head jerk forward and back in frame. “You look way too sexy to hide right now.” His hips start hammering into you again, the sound of skin slapping against wet skin barely able to overpower the sounds of your screams. 

He’s clearly proud of how loud he makes you, starting to mock your moans and whines. He isn’t doing it to be an asshole, he just does it because you clench so fucking tight, and he knows it won’t be long until you’re a stammering mess under him. “Daddy, it’s so good, so fucking deep.” “It’s just so good, isn’t it?” He coos at you like a cute, dumb dog, scratching at his leg for attention. “Daddy makes you that fucking dumb, huh? Daddy’s fat cock makes you say stupid shit?” You pout and whine, your tongue weighing heavy in your mouth as you get closer to cumming. “Fuck, so goddamn tight, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum from that? You like being mocked?” He doesn’t let up, grinding his cock deeper inside your cunt, his thumb rubbing even faster circles. “N-no, Daddy, don’t be mean, please..” You sniff and cling to his forearms, feeling the coil in your stomach get tighter and tighter with every moan Leon’s cock punches out of you. “Daddy, don’t be mean,” He mocks you again, laughing as you start to squirm from it. “You sound fucking pathetic, you know that, right? How is anyone supposed to get off to a depraved whore?” He scoffs when he realizes you can’t even listen to him, because you’re too busy cumming on his cock. 

“Fuck, all it took was a few words to get you milking my cock.” You don’t get a chance to sit in your humiliation, his dick still rutting into your soft pussy, his thrusts getting sloppy. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know he isn’t gonna pull out, so you start squirming again, clawing at his shoulders. “Daddy, not inside, please, ‘s not right.” “You’re still going on about what’s right and wrong? Look at what you’re doing. I’m creaming your tight cunt whether you want me to or not.” You can’t argue with him when he has you thrashing under him, crying out as he pulls another orgasm from you. He hisses at your nails nearly piercing his skin as you cling to him, his dick twitching from the pain as he bottoms out inside you, letting his cum paint your walls white. You lie there limply as he slowly pulls out, making sure he gets his cum leaking out of you on camera before ending the recording, a smug grin plastered on his face.

You don’t pester him about how you woke up in his bed that night, because any nice gesture you can pry out of him, even if it’s through sex, makes you happy enough. What you do pester him about is the video, and what he did with it. Your jaw drops when he moves to the side in his desk chair so you can see his screen. Hundreds upon thousands of views and comments on PornHub. He’s a bit confused by your look of shock, it’s not like he labeled the video as incest. Everybody loves step-cest porn, though. Of course he milked the video for all it’s worth, only posting a couple minutes of it for free and linking the full video to your Onlyfans. “You don’t have to give me that money for rent, save it for whatever you wanna do. Trade school, college, I don’t care.” You look up from your phone, not bothering to hide your wide eyed grin. Or that you were checking your bank account. “Thanks, Dad.” You sit in his lap and hug him, but nothing can ever just be sweet and short with him. “Don’t go thinking I’m gonna let you off scot-free. You’re only making videos with me. That app is already off your phone, I don’t want you talking to anyone else.” He makes you lean back so you can look at him, desperate to hide your blush from his steel gaze. “Got that?” “Mhm, only you, Daddy.” He smiles, pulling you back in to kiss you. You’re surprised by how quick and gentle it is, and the fact that he’s smiling at you in the first place. “Good girl,” He pats your ass to get you off his lap, complying with his signal as you step back on your feet. “go wait on the couch, I should be done with work soon. We can watch a movie or something.” You can’t help but get giddy as you leave, closing his office door behind you. Even if it means you’re stuck with Leon for life, you at least have someone there to bask in all your depravity.