This is for the most part a Leon blog, but I might write about other characters I'm obsessing over, or simply wanna write about.
This blog does contain 18+ and some dark content so you have been warned, everything on here is basically whatever my mind comes up with so there will be a variety of tropes.
This is simply for fun and don't take it too seriously.
warnings: 18+, p in v, praise, age gap, breeding kink
summary: Sitting next to him across the couch doesn’t cut it anymore. If you’re not grabbing onto him, suffocating him, then you’re not close enough. If you did what you’re currently doing a month ago he would’ve told you to get lost, but it takes a lot to break a man and you’ve officially done it. Leon quickly realized that just accepting his fate saves him more energy than telling you off would.
words: 3k
Maybe it’s the age, or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but if he could choke out either one of you and get away with it, he wouldn’t mind.
Ever since his owner adopted you, they have shoved you up Leon’s nostrils, his mouth, his ass, basically up every orifice available. And at first, he tried to be patient, to be understanding that you’re still new here. He remembers the days when he was just adopted from the shelter, the level of attention he used to get before he became a mundane presence after a few weeks.
But your effect doesn’t seem to wane. Two months and counting, and every single day you get practically worshipped in this house. It’s not like he’s jealous, he’s too old for this kind of attention. Maybe when he was younger he would’ve been, sure; but all Leon cares about anymore is to be left the fuck alone, in peace and quiet until death comes knocking on his door—and perhaps that’s why your owner got you.
Obviously, a new young bunny doesn’t quite match his lifestyle; not with the way you run around the house, not with the way you get way too excited for meal time like you aren’t going to eat the same fucking thing for the rest of your life, and definitely not in the way where he is made responsible for teaching you basically everything without his consent.
You’re a pretty thing though, he’ll admit that. Nice long ears, a very fluffy tail, and eyes that no one can say no to—basically the whole package, so he can understand the appeal. What he can’t understand however, is why he is getting roped into this.
After your owner showed you around the house, they then introduced you to him and you immediately hid behind them.
“No come on, don’t be shy. This is Leon, he’s basically your older brother now. If you ever need help with anything you can ask him.”
His expression immediately morphs into one with utter disbelief—not that he purposefully wanted to make an unpleasant first impression, but it’s rather difficult to contain yourself when someone starts speaking straight up bullshit in front of you.
“Right, Leon?”
“No.”
First off, he wasn’t becoming anyone’s older brother. Older brothers babysit, older brothers care, and he was about to do neither of those. Secondly, they decided to expand the “family” not him, so if you need help don’t come running to him.
He did feel bad for making such a harsh introduction for a while, but eventually got over it when he realized that you didn’t speak a drop of English—nor any languages for that matter. It’s typical for hybrids to be behind on communication thanks to some of their animalistic characteristics, he didn’t manage to speak fluently till a few years ago. But he doesn’t recall himself being that bad when he was younger.
Point is, you were terrible to deal with; which he soon realized that he didn’t have choice but to do. Your owner would go to work from the early morning, and come back home later at night. You would sit by the door the whole day, just staring at it. You would concentrate on the handle, as if the more you concentrated, the quicker they’d come back.
Leon left you to it, the busier you were the less likely you were to bother him after all. But it didn’t take you long to realize that this whole telekinesis thing was hopeless. To pass time, you started bothering him instead.
“She’s weird.”
“She’s just watching you Leon, be nice.”
Apparently, being stared at all day, every day is not a form of harassment. Whenever you wanted food, you’d just stand in front of him and stare until he figures out what you want. Do you have any idea how many of his snacks he had to hand over to you just to get you to leave him alone?
And even if you’re fed, it doesn’t mean he gets a break from you idling around him. If he’s watching something, you’re there. If looking at something, you’re there. If he has to change, he’d have to physically kick you out his room to do so.
The thing is, this wouldn’t be that bad if you were looking at what he’s actually doing rather than directly at him. And it wouldn’t be that bad if you had some sort of expression on your face while doing so. You once spent two whole minutes staring at him in silence without blinking a single time-yes, he counted.
When you finally decide to stop ogling at him, you nap conveniently beside him, or on the floor besides his feet if you have to.
You never speak to him however, keeping your thoughts to yourself—and thank God for that, the last thing he needs is your squeaky voice in his highly sensitive ears. The only time you show an ounce of emotion is when your owner comes home, jumping up and down in excitement, practically throwing yourself at them.
You love the attention, the coos, the compliments even when you can’t quite understand what they say. After observing you for a while, he can tell that you’re fond of physical affection. You like curling up next to anyone who steps foot in the apartment, batting your eyelashes at them and devouring every drop of affection you get.
“Oh my god, she’s so cute!”
“Isn’t she the sweetest thing?”
“Aww look at her!”
Sweetheart of the city, what can he say.
And because you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it makes Leon stick out like a sore thumb. Your owner thinks it’s because the two of you haven’t “bonded” enough based off one answer from chatgpt. Surely that’s the reason, not because Leon has time and time again stated that he doesn’t care.
And as if thing couldn’t get worse, they somehow stumbled across an article that said that bunnies bond through cuddling. Again, bunnies and not hybrids. But thanks to you being an attention leech and for your lack of respect for personal space, they think that this behavior is a natural instinct. Either way, it’s not like anyone has been listening to him since you’ve stepped into the picture.
Bonding time consists of the two of you awkwardly hugging each other for ten minutes; and it takes one look at both of your faces to draw the conclusion that none of you are feeling the bondness of it all. Well, to be fair Leon went from hating it to just wanting to get it over with. You on the other hand, you went from being a little shy to being very comfortable with the whole concept. Another victim to add to your never-ending list.
At first, your arms would intertwine but your bodies would still be away from each other. But then you started stepping closer and closer until resting your head on his chest became a regular thing. He decided to not make a fuss about it—it was only for ten minutes after all.
Your owner had to out of town for a few days leaving the two of you alone, and Leon made it clear that no bonding time will be held during these days. Besides, preparing both of your meals seemed more than enough bonding time for him.
But with the way you were acting, it seemed pretty obvious that you were missing that time you had together. It’s either that or the lack of attention is cutting off the oxygen from reaching your brain.
Now, sitting next to him across the couch doesn’t cut it anymore. If you’re not grabbing onto him, suffocating him, then you’re not close enough. If you did what you’re currently doing a month ago he would’ve told you to get lost, but it takes a lot to break a man and you’ve officially done it. Leon quickly realized that just accepting his fate saves him more energy than telling you off would.
Leon runs a very strict protocol when it comes to sleeping. Having big bunny ears means that he can overhear a conversation in another state if he put his mind to it. So, it doesn’t take much to hear and feel another person climbing into his bed.
“Oh my fucking god”
He grumbles before even opening his eyes, he doesn’t need his visual senses to confirm that it’s none other than you. His eyes crack open seeing you on all fours freezing in place once his eyes catch yours.
“What are you doing here?”
His brows wrinkle in disbelief at how far he let things get. You don’t move, instead you just stare at him with that kicked bunny look on your face. He shrugs his arms and shakes his head, waiting for an answer from you.
“…Bonding time”
“No, no fucking bonding time. Go back to your room.”
Dealing with you when he’s fully rested is already draining, let alone when he’s getting cranky. Deciding he’s had enough, he turns around and lays back down closing his eyes.
After a moment, he feels you shift on the bed, sitting down on your knees. You know it’s a problem when he can sense those eyes of yours staring into his back in a pitch-dark room.
“I said go to your room.”
You stay still for a moment before he feels your weight shift off the bed. And for a second, he felt a rush of dopamine at the idea of you finally finally listening to him. But that happiness was short lived when he hears you shuffle and curl up into a ball on the floor below him.
He takes in a deep breath, and reminds himself that things could’ve been worse. You could’ve been a serial killer, or had a hobby for setting things on fire, or a kleptomaniac—actually you’re worse, you hoard all the snacks under your bed.
And even though it’s sad that the bar had to get this low, but being clingy isn’t the worst-case outcome.
The two of you sits in silence, which gives Leon’s subconscious the perfect moment to strike. What if you’re cold? What if you had a nightmare? He recalls dealing with those after leaving the shelter. What if you end up tragically dying in your sleep and he has to live with the guilt for the rest of his life?
His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to shoo away all the dramatic scenarios that pop into his head. But rather than going away, they only seem to get louder and louder.
He caves in, deciding that going to sleep with a hurt pride is better than not getting any sleep at all. He looks down at your figure below him, knees to chest with your arm propping your head as a pillow.
“Hey.”
You lift up your head, looking over at him. You look like you’re expecting a lecture from him for not listening, which truthfully is what he should be doing.
“Come here.” He pats the space on the bed next to him.
“Bonding time.”
Your ears perk up at the last words, immediately getting up and climbing next to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, your head snapping to his chest like velcro. Leon takes in the silence after managing to shut his thoughts up. His arm is branched behind you, supporting your back—it is bonding time after all.
His eyes move over to your figure after a while, a strip of light running across your face from the bedroom door you never fail to leave open behind you; and to no one’s surprise, you’re already looking at him. Deciding since he’s already doing something nice, he might as well go all in. He flashes you a soft smile and you mirror him hesitantly.
He can feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate with your close proximity as you begin to lean in; your eyes locked on his lips. He thinks of pulling away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls the arm that’s draped around you, pulling you closer to him. His lips caging your bottom lip in a soft embrace, and you reciprocate.
It starts off sweet, his hand finding its way to your cheek before tangling in your hair and exposing the side of your face. His brain struggles to make sense of what’s happening, struggling to blame his actions on his sleepy state or his dormant feelings. You melt into his touch, your thigh stacking on top of his and he grabs onto your side; his thumb on your chin coaxing your mouth to open wider.
His tongue enters your mouth, and you give him full access by leaning in further. A whine escapes your lips, your hips bucking in need. You grab his hand, bringing it down to the aching between your thighs.
He groans as he senses your naked cunt, slick pooled and almost dripping down your thighs. The idea of you going to sleep with nothing other than a shirt makes his feel brain fuzzy with arousal, his middle finger circling your clit.
“Fuck, needy little pussy,”
You instinctively begin to rock you hips against his digits; your palms planted on his chest for support. Deciding to give you more, his fingers tease your dripping entrance before sinking into your cunt.
You moan at the sensation, and Leon feels his cock begging to be released from the confined of his clothes. You begin to ride his fingers, your fluids collecting on the base of his knuckles.
“This pussy just wanted to be filled, huh? Just wanted to feel good?”
He watches you move, his nose picking up the scent of your fluids. He shifts his attention to the ache from his cock, forming a visible bulge in his sweatpants. His fingers slip down his pants along with his underwear enough to pull himself out.
He wraps his fingers around the hot length, earning a hiss from him at the contact. The sound causes your eyes to open and look at what he’s doing. A smirk forms on his lips, his blue eyes locking with yours as his fist pumps up and down his thick cock.
“You wanna try?”
You nod your head hesitantly and he grabs a hold of your hand. He wraps your fingers around him, and with his hand on top of yours he guides your movements. A low groan vibrates from his chest, his head leaning against the headboard behind him as your fingers squeeze around him.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well.”
The movement of your hips on his fingers halt when you notice the amount of precum leaking from the head. It takes one look at your face to see the kind of ideas swirling in your head, and this is the first time he wishes that you could properly speak so he knows exactly what you’re thinking—but he has a pretty good guess.
He pats his thigh, signaling you to come closer. Moving towards him, your thighs bracket his with your arms around his shoulders. Leon’s hand snakes up your thigh before massaging the plush of your ass and you take this moment to connect your lips again.
He gives your jaw a quick kiss and teases his cock at your entrance. Sensing your impatience, he helps you sink down his length; your hands gripping his shoulders at the sudden stretch. Leon starts babbling words of praise as pleasure clouds his thoughts; and with each pulse of your walls, he actively forgives you for every inconvenience you have caused since you entered his life.
You begin to move, lifting yourself up before sinking down again and again. Leon blames the significant lack of pussy he’s experienced in these past few years for the way he feels intensely pussy drunk—or maybe it’s because your so wet it’s getting concerning.
“Shit, sweetheart. Show me those tits.”
His hand sneaks beneath your shirt pulling the piece of fabric over your head. Now met with your naked chest, his palms cup the tender flesh into his hand. He watches as the fat beneath the skin bounces with each snap of his hips, his fingers pinching the stiff peaks.
Unsatisfied, he flips you onto your back with his body caging you between his arms. Pushing your thighs further apart, his arms slot underneath your knees to keep them open as his hips move against your again.
Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he takes in the sweet scent of your shampoo tangled into your hair. With you positioned beneath him and his heart beat soaring, his animalistic instincts start taking over.
“Gonna breed this little pussy, get you so full of my cum.”
The mattress supporting your weight creaks with each thrust of his hips, sweat droplets forming along his hairline and down his back. Your whines start getting louder, your hands helplessly grasping at anything within your reach.
He hears his name being muttered a few times, his hands tangling with yours and pinning them down to the mattress beneath you. It takes a few squeezes from your walls to make his thrusts turn sloppy, your legs wrapping around his torso to keep him close.
“Like the idea, sweetheart? Having my bunnies? Keeping you knocked up all the time?”
Your fingernails leave trails of scratches along his broad back as his hips fuck into you feverishly. The head of his cock rubs against the spongy spot inside you, helping you reach your climax. Leon squeezes your hands, his chest heaving along with yours as you pull him into his orgasm with you.
He cusses under his breath as ropes of cum shoot into your velvety walls. He thrusts into you a few times, watching the white ring around the base of his cock become more prominent with each thrust.
His hand rubs your thigh soothingly before pulling out of your spent cunt. The hot liquid leaks from your hole, the sight making him miss being inside you already. You prop yourself up on your elbows, a smile plastered on your face.
“More?”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, and nods. It’s still considered bonding time if he hugs you through it.
the only idea i have for dogman leon is him treating you like a dog and making you treat him like the owner. but shruggg idk i cant really think of anything either
That’s actually is a pretty good idea
I currently have 2 wip so i still have plenty of time to brainstorm lol
also, this mature content label is so annoying and such a dumb update. like how do i write two explicit works and one gets flagged and the other doesn't? and since when did tumblr care about "mature" content
so yeah if some of my posts aren't popping up for you its because you haven't enabled mature content in your settings. STOP LETTING AI MODERATE EVERYTHING
warnings: 18+, p in v, oral (m recieve), daddy kink, age gap
summary: He’s been keeping busy, between work, and his workouts, and sleeping with his best friend’s daughter. Couldn’t pay him to say those few words out loud. He feels guilty, very guilty to the point where it makes him nauseous; but not guilty enough to stop him from doing it again.
words: 2.4k
a/n: you're going to have to walk with me on this one, like daddy issues but if you inject them with steroids. but yeah, extremely guilty leon but still a weirdo loser, enjoy!!
“Welcome, Leon. Have a seat.”
This place never seems to get any less suffocating. You know for a place that aims to heal whatever fucked up trauma you have, some colors in this office would’ve been nice. It’s not like Leon is an interior design enthusiast, not when he lived in an apartment with nothing other than a mattress to sleep on for the majority of his twenties. But he honestly would rather look at anywhere else other than at the therapist sitting in front of him.
He takes a seat on the black leathered chair next to her. Taking in a deep breath and reminding himself that this only a one hour, once a week thing and once he’s done, he’ll reward himself with a cold drink for being responsible.
Truth is, he was going to give himself that drink anyway. Because he deserves it, because life has fucked him in the ass so many times by now that even if he turned into a war criminal it would be justified. But he didn’t, not sure why though. Not like he had a loving childhood with parents who taught him right from wrong. Matter of fact his parents are the last people he would seek moral advice from, not like he can anyways. Not when they’re six feet below.
God, this is fucking depressing.
“So, how have we been?”
He chews the inside of his cheeks, and realizes how unnatural this whole concept is. Meeting someone once a week, expecting them to dump their entire life problems onto you as you scribble down your notes on your notepad before moving on to the next patient.
Leon is convinced that she shares everything he tells her over a glass of wine with her friends; he just can’t prove it—he can’t blame her either. Or maybe it’s just about the way she looks, the bob, the glasses—he swears that she looks like someone he went to high school with; just with lip fillers.
Her lips look awfully natural though. Ashley taught him how to tell the difference when they got lunch together the last time he saw her before she left to go to Sri Lanka. Apparently, they have beautiful landscapes there; but that’s about all he can remember from the conversation.
“…I’m guessing not so great?”
“Oh, no sorry. Um, yeah I’ve been good.”
She laughs, one of those fake laughs though—because she doesn’t believe him. He can say whatever he wants, but when his progress has been stagnant for the past few weeks it doesn’t take a degree to figure out that he’s lying.
But reality is, he isn’t—not this time at least. He’s been good, like better than usual, like he still has a very, very, manageable, no issue, got it under control drinking problem but other than that he’s doing amazing.
He’s been keeping busy, between work, and his workouts, and fucking his best friend’s daughter. Couldn’t pay him to say those few words out loud. He feels guilty, very guilty to the point where it makes him nauseous; but not guilty enough to stop him from doing it again.
He’d be lying if he said that you weren’t one of the few good things to happen to him, even if you come with a price. Everything in life comes with a price, but you feel good and he isn’t just talking about the sex. You’re fresh and full of life, and he sounds like such a creep when he says this but he feels so much better around you.
You seem to enjoy your time around him as well, but it could just be because you don’t see each other often and maybe that’s for the best. If you got too close, you’d realize that he’s just a bum with a whole list of underlying issues.
You’d send him a text from time to time. A little update on your life here and there, and it’s nice to know that you’re doing well.
“Will you be in town this week? I’m coming back from college to visit my dad.”
“No, sweetheart. Maybe next time, I miss you.”
“Miss you too”
But when he does see you, he makes sure to make up for lost time. He takes you out, buys you those overpriced drinks that you like, and he never comes empty handed.
The dynamic between the two of you is complicated and no matter which way he twists it, it’s still morally wrong. He’s the same age as your dad, and your dad is your dad so technically if he had a hypothetical daughter she would be the same age as you. Did he also mention that you’re his best friend’s daughter?
Like, he cares for you like his daughter, he spoils you like you’re his daughter, he talks to you honestly more than he would talk to his actual daughter. But you’re not. And with your mom being out of the picture, you’ve become more attached to him.
Point is, you matter. Matter so much that he is in here because of you.
Typically, most of your “dates” end up at his apartment; with him sprawled out on the bed and you on top of him. Your lips move from his lips, to his nose, cheek, forehead, and back to his lips. His bulky arms wrap around you, taking in your scent. A warm fuzzy feeling fills his chest, he feels loved, and if he’s loved by someone like you it means that he’s doing something right.
Your hips grind on the outline of his cock beneath his jeans and your lips latch onto his neck. You bite and kiss the tender skin, his hands gripping your hips sucking in a breath at the sensation. You’re good at this, a little too good. Dipping lower, you whisper into his ear.
“I wanna suck your cock.”
He almost chokes on his own spit, it never gets easier to hear you say these sorts of things. You kiss from his jaw, to his neck, and down his chest.
“Want you, daddy.”
Leon feels a pang in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Sweetheart… don’t call me that.”
You move back closer to him, a smile plastered all over your face like this is funny.
“Why?”
Cause it makes him feel like shit, cause it makes him feel like an asshole who can’t keep his dick in his pants. But you’re not even listening, you’re too busy rubbing his cock through his pants.
“Because- It’s just kind of weird, baby.”
“I’ve literally called you that before and you didn’t mind.”
“What? When?”
“New years, when you came over to our house.”
New years to Leon is just another excuse for him to get piss drunk and blackout without anyone judging him for it. He can’t even remember what he did that night, let alone what you said.
“Okay, I was drunk so it doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, well drunk you really liked it; besides you never listen when I tell you to stop calling me pumpkin.”
“That’s different.”
Your eyes snap back at him, your face morphing into an expression he knows too well. The same face you used to make when your dad wouldn’t let you attend those high school parties with alcohol and drugs because he’s a good parent; right before you would stomp to your room and he’d have to intervene to make you see your dad’s perspective. Honestly, he used to only do that because he couldn’t stand the idea of you crying upstairs.
You start getting off the bed before he grabs your arm.
“No, no, I’m sorry.”
He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you against him, teasing you for holding in your laugh. He manages to get you on top of him again, with you still putting up a fight.
“Come on, give me a kiss.”
He puckers his lips out for you, making kissing sounds. You laugh, feigning disgust before caving in. The kiss starts off soft and sweet at first, Leon’s hand caressing your cheek before pulling away and looking at you.
“You know how much you mean to me, right?”
You nod your head in response. He moves some of the stray hairs away from your face.
“Daddy’s princess”
At this point, he can’t blame you for acting like a brat when he’s been enabling this behavior since you can remember. When your dad didn’t agree to buying you that three story barbie dreamhouse on your birthday, Leon did. When you were drunk and out of the house when you were supposed to be grounded, Leon was the one to pick you up every time. And even now, he can’t ever so no to you.
If he wants to be completely honest with himself, he doesn’t entirely hate this whole daddy thing. It’s just his morality getting in the way, or whatever is left of it at least. But either way he’s going to hell so it doesn’t matter.
His hand gropes your ass as he trails soft open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You go back to rocking your hips, delicate sighs slipping from your mouth. It doesn’t take long before his cock starts to get hard and he can feel himself getting dumber and dumber as the blood rushes all the way from one head to the other.
Grabbing your hand, he guides it to his crotch. His hips buck against your hand making you feel how hard he is.
“Wanna suck daddy’s cock, baby? Make me feel good?”
You nod, giving him a final peck on the lips before moving back and fumbling with his belt. He helps you undress him before pulling his cock out. Your hand wraps around the base giving it a slow stroke before kissing the tip.
You make sure to keep eye contact with him as you kiss the tip again and again, a transparent string of his arousal connecting your lips to the leaking head. You take him into your mouth, your pillowy lips wrapping around him with your hand at the base making up for what your mouth can’t accommodate.
He moves your hair from around your face, putting it in a makeshift ponytail with his fist and feeling your tongue slide up and down his length.
“That’s it, sweetheart. So good f’me.”
You moan with him in your mouth, the sound sending waves of pleasure through him. He lets you do what you want, your spit along with his precum coating your hands and dripping down to his balls.
Eventually deciding to take a bit more of control, he gently pulls your hair to move you according to his pace. He guides you slowly before picking up the pace, you handle it pretty well the wet sounds coming from your throat making him groan in pleasure.
With his orgasm building up he pushes your limits a little more, pulling your face down to take more of him into your mouth. He cusses under his breath, watching his cock disappear into you. You gag when he pushes too much, a few tears running down your cheeks out of reflex.
Letting go of your hair, you pull away. Your chest rises and falls as you regain your composure, your face shiny with your mixed fluids. He smiles at you, grabbing the base of his cock and slapping it against your lips a few times.
“Such a good girl. Making me proud.”
You smile weakly, placing an openmouthed kiss on the head before he pulls you towards him. His hand sneaks past the waistband of your underwear, collecting the buildup slick and circling around your clit.
“Fuck, sweetheart. This pussy is practically crying to get filled.”
You slip off your underwear, his hands gripping your waist as your straddle his lap. He grabs the base of his cock, rubbing the leaking tip against your clit. Your sensitive bud gets coated with a transparent layer of precum; his eyes take in your expression as he applies more pressure on your clit.
Moving your hips forwards, he nudges at your entrance as you sink down on his length causing the two of you moan in unison at the stretch. You place your hands on his shoulders, and he begins to thrust into you from below. You sigh and your face scrunches up in the crook of his neck in concentration. A smile creeps up on his lips from your reaction.
“Not in the mood to put up a fight anymore?”
You tut in annoyance, your arms wrapping around him even tighter. He reciprocates, one of his arms snaking around your lower back with the other pulling you against his chest. He picks up the pace, his cock slamming into you feverishly.
He keeps up the same speed until you start to squirm on top of him, your walls squeezing around him a little too tight signaling your orgasm being around the corner. Deciding to prioritize you, his hips remain bucked making sure his cock is buried deep inside your aching cunt as he guides your hips in a circling motion.
Your thighs begin to shake as his tips rubs against your g spot again and again. He shushes you, his hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly.
“Gonna cum, baby? It’s okay, daddy’s got you.”
It takes a few more seconds before you begin to whimper, the fluttering of your velvety walls causing his grip to tighten on you as he tries his best to not lose composure himself. He makes sure that you get the same stimulation throughout your orgasm before he starts chasing his own.
You slump against his shoulder, your thoughts god knows where as he feverishly fucks into you. He takes in your scent, the smoothness of your skin, and the curves on your side; and as the pleasure floods his brain he silently begs for your father’s forgiveness.
He makes sure to pull out of you despite your mumbled protests. His cock now exposed to the cold air of the room throbs before shooting hot spurts of cum over your abdomen. He hisses as your fist pumps up and down the length, his balls emptying all over you.
Completely spent, you lean against his chest and he pulls you into a warm hug. It’s usually at this point where the post nut clarity hits him like a bus and he vows to never do it again. But he’s also done this enough times to realize that next time won’t be any different.
He looks at your face against his chest, your eyes closed and your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A soft kiss is placed on your temple, his head resting against yours.
summary: He watches for a while, analyzing and comparing how your face contorts with each sigh that escapes your lips. He picks up the speed at which our fingers move, the circles they make, and how your chest rises and falls. He wouldn’t mind painting this.
words: 1.8k
a/n: i yearn for down bad, filthy Leon, do you? (rhetorical question), enjoy!!!
Ever since you became part of Leon’s life, his world started orbiting around your presence. He says it time and time again like a mantra, how you’re the best thing to ever happen to him; a gift delivered from the gods on his doorstep.
Usually, hybrid owners complain how chained they feel to their hybrids, how sometimes they can get too much and they just need a break from all the chaos and constant attention they require. Usually in these conversations Leon sits there looking as clueless as he did back in calculus class in high school.
He can’t imagine being sick of you, if anything he feels like a leech on your side; too greedy and nothing ever feels like enough. Not quite sure what exactly the scientists who curated you in the lab mixed in, but heroin is definitely an ingredient. One kiss is never enough, nor two, seventeen will do for the next two hours before he needs to replenish again. Sometimes he feels like you’re the one who’s had enough of him and will throw him in the shelter yourself.
He wouldn’t want anyone to see how you have him wrapped around your finger, would be detrimental for the brand. The only person who even came close to see a quarter of what you have to put up with was Claire, all because he didn’t know she was at his place when he came home. She teased him for a while, saying shit like “never knew men can experience cuteness aggression” blah blah blah.
Anyways, he could go on and on about how he’d let you rip his heart out and use his body as Christmas decoration; but these sorts of wholesome conversations he can carry later on. The two of you have fucked a lot, like a lot a lot, like he doesn’t do cardio in the gym anymore kind of a lot. And he blames it in this whole stereotype of how horny bunnies are, and how in the wild they just hop, eat, reproduce and die. Obviously, he isn’t trying to sexualize you or objectify you or whatever buzzwords he can think off; he just wants to make sure your needs are met—except he’s the one to almost always initiate every time the two of you have sex. He says almost always because this time it’s different.
Coming back home from yet another day in hell, he parks his car before grabbing the pizza box from the passenger seat. He came back home early today, lucky him. But seriously, it is nice to be treated like your agency’s golden boy and pretend like they won’t turn around and replace you the minute they find you dead in a ditch somewhere.
Point is, he needs to work on his “pessimistic mindset” because it blocks your chakras or whatever bullshit that random show he put on when he couldn’t sleep said. Now he’s more focused on getting fat and drinking till he passes out on the couch.
That was the plan at least, until he heard your soft whines coming from the bedroom. He’s aware that he just said how bunnies are fond of sexual pleasure, but it was always a way for him to feel a bit better about himself for not being able to control himself around you. But seeing you pleasure yourself was a sight to see.
Perhaps it’s his fault, ruined you a little too much with his lips either constantly chugging liquor straight from the bottle or between your thighs. He doesn’t even regret it, not with the way his cock is throbbing watching the outline of your fingers do the work. A twinge of jealousy is definitely present though; how many opportunities has work taken away from him when those fingers could’ve been his. Not an artist himself, but this is what he would imagine Micheal Angelo felt like staring at the Sistine chapel after months of work. Instead, each panel is a different memory of each time the two of you had sex—he wouldn’t mind painting that, actually.
He watches for a while, analyzing and comparing how your face contorts with each sigh that escapes your lips. He picks up the speed at which our fingers move, the circles they make, and how your chest rises and falls. He wouldn’t mind painting this either.
You finally open your eyes and catch his figure leaning on the doorway. Immediately pulling your hand away and laying on your side with your back towards him. A part of him disappointed with how quickly he ruined it for himself because he was too busy ogling at you. Smiling, he steps closer.
“What were you doing?”
You remain still, is this like a survival instinct that bunnies have that he wasn’t aware of? Playing dead? He sits at the edge of the bed next to you; leaning in over your frame looking at your closed eyes.
“Are you playing dead, baby?”
You start snoring, mimicking the same snores he makes when coming back home from a 34-hour mission; and he kinda hates you for it.
“Ohhh asleep, my bad.”
His hand slots on your thigh, and he watches your reaction for a moment.
“Weird, people usually frown in their sleep.”
Knots immediately form between your brows and it takes everything in him to not bust out laughing. Listen, he said you’re the cutest thing out there; not the smartest. But alas he has to be supportive.
“Well, since your asleep; I might just help myself out.”
His large arms hook your thighs and pull your body to the edge of the bed before slipping off your shorts. Pushing your legs apart, he tuts as he grabs the waistband of your panties, his eyes glued on the wet spot in the apex of your thighs.
“Completely soaked, you’ll catch a cold.”
He releases the waistband from his finger, letting it snap against your skin. Your panties slide off with ease as he twirls the piece off fabric on his index before shoving it in his pocket. His eyes catch one of yours opening to watch what he’s doing before shutting again. Choosing to play your games, he clears his throat and faces your weeping cunt; pulling your lips apart taking in the amount of slick dripping down.
Impressive, but he’s done better.
A soft gust of wind blows from his lips, the cold air hitting your sensitive clit making your hips buck. He holds you down, taking in a deep breath before going in again and again and again—he’s about to pass out, and again; before you finally have had enough.
You lift your head, utterly offended; and he didn’t expect any less than that.
“Hey, sleepy head.”
Your nose twitches, and he retorts with the widest grin he can muster.
“Was drying you up. Can’t have you getting sick, sweetheart.”
“No.”
“No? You want more?”
You nod your head.
“What do you want?”
“Kisses.”
“On your lips?”
Your ears flop in frustration as you shake your head.
“Where then?”
You point between your legs. Usually, he’d have you say it out loud, but he’ll let it slide this time because you’re embarrassed—and because he’s so hard it’s actually starting to hurt. Either way, he wasn’t planning on giving you what you want.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I think you’ve had enough foreplay.”
Before you could protest, he pulls your thigh flipping you onto your stomach. He gets up and works on unbuckling his belt and you arch your hips like its second nature. Climbing on the bed behind you, he circles your clit for a bit before swiping his fingers at your slit collecting your slick on the digits before tasting them. Just because he’s not eating you out, doesn’t mean he doesn’t get to taste.
He strokes his aching cock a few times before teasing it against your entrance. A playful pat being placed on the swell of your ass.
“Having fun without me? Really hurt my feelings, baby.”
Bucking his hips forward, the two of you let out a moan at the stretch.
“Sorry, daddy.”
Placing his arms on either side of your head, he moves your hair out of your face.
“No, you’re not. Dirty fucking bunny.”
A trail of kisses is placed from your neck till your lower back before grabbing a handful of your ass.
“Come on, baby. Apologize.”
You begin to move your hips, forwards before pushing all the way back. He lets out a few groans, placing his hands on your hips for encouragement but letting you do all the work.
“That’s it. You take it so well, baby.”
You pick up the pace with every word of encouragement dripping from his lips. He encages you again, picking up your chin and connecting his lips with yours as your hips keep on moving.
Your legs get noticeably weaker after a while, and he’s afraid that princess treatment still applies even when you’re not on your best behavior. Deciding to have some pity on you, he snaps his hips causing your whole body to jolt forwards earning a chuckle from him. Claiming his lips with yours again he picks up the pace, the sounds coming from where the two of you connect making more slick drip down your thighs.
“Feel good?”
“Yes.”
He places his hand on your head, bringing your head flush against the sheets as he feverishly penetrates into you again and again. You whine beneath him; your orgasm being sensed with how your walls twitch.
His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together comforting you. Even after experiencing you for the thousandth time now, he still can’t believe how good you feel around him.
“So good, sweetheart. So good f’me.”
“Little hole made just for me.”
Sweat begins to coat your bodies, the hair at the base of your neck sticking to the skin as the smell of sex fills the room. It takes a few more snaps from his hips before your body begins to shudder beneath him.
With you reaching your orgasm, his movement gets increasingly sloppy. Your hips quake and your thighs turn to mush, his hand being the only form of support. His back is flush against yours; his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck taking in your scent as he reaches his.
A few choaked out moans escape his lips, feeling his warm release encapsulate his cock. He tries his absolute best to not crush you beneath his weight, pulling out his cock from your filled cunt with a wet schlick earning a moan from the two of you. He watches your mixed fluids run down your folds, his fingers collecting the white colored fluids and fucking them back into your spent pussy.
Leaning over, he places a few wet kisses on your clit; his mouth lapping at your cunt. He tastes the two of you on his lips till you whimper from overstimulation beneath him causing him to chuckle against you.
regarding the zombie!wife reader.. it doesn’t have to necessarily be smut, but maybe angst and/or fluff. i really hope you’re able to navigate a way to write this pairing.
a little late to answering this sorryyyy but i have some ideas in mind😗
Hiiiii! I just read your hybrid Leon x reader story and it was soooooo good 😽 I loved it!!!!!I just wanted to say I’d love it if you continued it 😊 (No pressure of course if you don’t want to!)
Hiiiii I'm so glad that you enjoyed it!! i have a feeling that i can squeeze more out of dogman leon, so hopefully he'll make a return soon
warnings: p in v, oral (f receive ), spitting, light spanking, degrading
summary: “Can I make it up to you?” His sleepy voice whispers against the shell of your ear making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “How?”
words: 3.4k
a/n: this took me so long idk why lol, but anyway rough old grumpy s3xually frustrated Leon here. And per usual not well behaved. enjoy!!!!
Adulting sucks.
Paying bills, going to work, having to fit a simple outing into your schedule weeks in advance. But it does have some perks, like finally affording your own place; funded with your own hard work.
Your apartment is pretty spacious, has decent natural lighting, and affordable. Honestly a steal, practically ticking off all the requirements off your list. But like with everything in life there is always a downside
The neighborhood you’re in isn’t the best. It’s alright during the day, but you’ve been having trouble getting a good nights rest recently with some of the stories you’ve been hearing from your neighbors.
In the midst of complaining to your friends about the situation, they suggested getting a cute puppy hybrid. Keeps you company and loyal enough to protect you.
You didn’t hate the idea; it would be like having a roommate but cuter. You’d get to watch movies together on the couch, go on cute walks in the park, and have someone to complain to about your long days—you know, like a best friend.
The experience of going to the hybrid shelter though was not what you expected. It was supposed to be cute, getting to sit and know each one that catches your eye before deciding. Instead, you spent the whole time pitying the sad faces you were seeing as you walk down each… cell? Enclosure? Room? You couldn’t even tell.
The middle-aged worker continued giving you a tour, your face visibly uncomfortable with how loud and overwhelming the place was.
The two of you stood a few cells down before the end of the hallway as the worker talked to you about some of the most suitable options. You took note of how most of the cells next to you were empty; until you saw the back of a pair of ears peeking out of the cell at the end.
“Blake is an excellent choice, well behaved. Joy is also a good option-”
“Who’s in there?”
The worker stops and looks at you before looking at where you finger is pointing behind her.
“That’s… Leon. But I wouldn’t umm… recommend him.”
Your brows furrow in confusion.
“Why not?”
The worker took a deep breath, scribbling a few things into her notepad as she spoke.
“He’s a bit of a hassle. Used to work as a government dog, got old, decided he’s not useful anymore and dumped him here.”
“Poor thing…” your lips purse in concern.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. He makes sure we all suffer as much as he does.” She scoffs, shaking her head at what you can only assume some of the things he’s done.
“Any behavior problems…?”
“Oh, plenty.”
“I can hear you, Janet.” A guttural voice from the cell grumbles.
She rolls her eyes, before continuing. “So yeah, it’s either between Blake, Joy, and Evan.”
Your eyes remain attached to the cell at the back. He used to work for the government, surely he knows a thing or two about protection. A bad neighborhood needs someone with a bad attitude after all, right?
“I’d like to see Leon, please.”
She looks up at you, a judgy expression plastered all over her face. You both turn around to face Leon who is now looking in your direction.
The adoption center made you sign at least four papers ensuring that you do not dump him on street in case he gets hard to handle. But they didn’t look like they wanted you to bring him back either with the way the workers looked a little too excited at his departure.
To your surprise, you haven’t had the urge to get rid of him a single time.
Yeah, he’s a little rough around the edges. Very reserved, not too chatty, and extremely sassy. But you can tell that he doesn’t entirely hate it here. You have noticed his tail wagging a few times when you got home. How he tries to hide his smile every time you crack a joke. How he scolds you for falling asleep on the couch when you come back home exhausted; harassing you until you change and sleep properly on your bed.
Your friends’ reaction to him was as predicted. Staring at him almost in horror when they walked in and saw him sitting on your couch.
“I thought that he was your uncle.”
“I thought we agreed on a puppy.”
They whisper to you in the kitchen, loud enough only for you to hear. They acted like you let an evil spirit into your home with open arms.
Sure, Leon isn’t a cute adorable puppy. But he’s quite handsome with some cool stories to tell—which you have to drag out of him but you’ll take what you can get. Besides he’s not that old, more like… bee keeping age. But yeah, all the puppy plans you had originally are now out the window.
You like to believe—or actually you know that deep deep down, beneath all that austere attitude is the puppy you originally wanted.
Deciding to do something nice the other day, you brought him a squeaky duck toy; maybe he’d like it. Once you pulled it out, he looked at you with sheer disgust.
“Oh, grow up.”
Only for you to hear the sound of muffled squeaking coming from his room a few days later. So, young at heart for sure.
Honestly, you can’t imagine what behavioral problems the other owners were complaining about. Leon just had boundaries, and he made it clear from the start—no leashes, no loud gatherings, and his own privacy, all to which seemed like fair game to you.
In addition, he’s been taking this protection job extremely seriously—a little too seriously actually. Standing next to the windows, arms clutched behind his back, his ears perking up at any sound coming near the front door. Having to practically shove him out of the door frame when talking to the poor mail man. But he feels like he has a purpose now, and you’re getting the rest that you need so it’s a win-win situation.
To be fair, you think his demeanor is pretty attractive. For a hybrid, he’s the manliest man you’ve met. Perhaps it’s his rough background that’s molded him into what he is today. Or maybe you just have a soft spot for overprotective men you weren’t aware of.
Coming back home late one day, you open the door as quietly as possible as it’s way past Leon’s bedtime. Your face cringes as the sound of the door creaking open remains loud no matter how slowly you push it. Only to be greeted by the same blue eyes glaring at you from the couch; arms crossed and his signature frown.
“Hi…”
“Where have you been?” he shifts, placing his hand on his chin.
“Sorry, manager kept me overtime.”
“And you walked home alone at this hour?”
You put down your keys on the table near the door. The sound of the metal clanking against the wooden surface breaking the awkward tension.
“Yeah…?”
He nods his head slowly, an immediate sign of disapproval.
“Unbelievable.” He scoffs to himself.
Unbelievable? Wait, who’s the owner again?
Your face twists to an annoyed expression. Yeah, you came home late. So what? Not like you were out partying. Even if you were its none of his business. You can take care of yourself, you only needed him to protect the house, not be your personal bodyguard.
He stares at you momentarily, almost like he can read your thoughts before stepping closer towards you.
“I’m not a lap dog y’know. You can depend on me.”
His tone is soft, juxtaposing his rough voice from earlier.
Long story short, he walks you to work and back home now. Ok, you’ll admit that it’s actually quite nice having someone escort you around. Staring at his back isn’t such a bad view too… the broad shoulders, the back muscles contorting beneath his shirt, his musky (pet safe) cologne practically suffocating you, his dark hair cascading to his neck… the ass—we’re not going to talk about the ass.
Over his past week, you’ve noticed some changes in his demeanor; changes you’re not particularly fond of. Growling at random people walking on the street who came a little too close, picking fights with stray hybrids; and once he starts getting aggressive, he won’t even listen to you anymore.
Are these the behavioral issues everyone was complaining about? Did he only put on his best behavior just to not end up back in the shelter? You bite your lip as you zone out on the white tile of your kitchen, letting worry eat away at whatever braincells you have left after another horrible workday.
You hear the sound of Leon’s feet shuffling into the kitchen. Your eyes meet his, barely able to keep them open with sleep clouding his vision.
“Still awake?”
You place your hand on the counter behind you fixing your posture before leaning against it again.
“Yeah, can’t sleep.”
A low hum escapes his throat before walking over to the fridge. You watch in silence as he grabs a water bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You feel your brows instinctively crinkle as your thoughts go back to overthinking, the image of him being hostile replaying in your head against your will for the thousandth time since you first seen it.
“This is his real identity, it’s only going to get worse from now on.” The little devil on your left whispers.
“But its Leon, sweet grumpy old Leon. Just because he snaps every once in a while, doesn’t mean he’s all bad.” The angel on your right retorts; and all you could wish for in this moment is for both of them to just shut the fuck up.
Leon’s eyes snap back at you, his brows mimicking the knots between yours as he steps closer. His arm reaches behind you and grabs your wine glass off the counter bringing it over to his lips.
“You can’t have that.”
“Yeah, well I’m older than you so.”
“Leon, I’m being serious.”
You reply, your tone coming off harsher than you intended.
He drops the wine glass off his lips and stares at you, one of his ears dropping down as he tries to decode the upset expression on your face.
“Okay, jesus.”
He whispers, putting the glass back where it was and you feel a twinge of guilt at his expression.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I just- “
You look away, unsure on how to approach the situation.
“I’ve been an ass.” He says.
“Excuse me?”
“No, I mean that I have been an ass.”
You look at him, a part of you relieved that he’s taking the initiative in this conversation.
“I’ve been a pain in the ass to deal with this week… and I’m sorry.”
You smile nodding at his statement.
“Leon, I just want you to help me understand that’s all.”
He stays quiet for second, and you can feel him unfold in front of you.
“I just go through rough patches sometimes, didn’t mean to scare you; I’ll do better I promise.”
You smile softly at him, expanding your arms and inviting him in for a hug. You expect him to react how he normally does when you show any signs of affection, stick out his tongue in faux disgust and walk away. But instead, he hesitates for a minute before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. It takes you by surprise, but you thank the sleepiness or whatever it is that is allowing you to see the softer side of him for once.
Your hands tangle in his hair, and you feel him melt into the crook of your neck until his hot breath is close enough to send tingles down your spine.
“Can I make it up to you?”
His sleepy voice whispers against the shell of your ear making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
“How?” you giggle awkwardly.
He inches closer feeling his body heat radiate against yours. His arms snake around your waist pulling you flush against him as you feel his tongue swipe across the hot skin of your neck. Your cheeks heat up and you instinctively put your hand on his chest. The lick morphs into a wet kiss, nuzzling his head further into the crook of your neck, his straight nose brushing against the skin.
“Smell so good.”
He whispers groggily, his hands running up and down your sides.
You don’t move, nor push him away. And it’s at this point where you have to admit that you have thought about this a few times, more times than you should’ve. Or maybe you just haven’t hooked up with someone for too long and the aching between your thighs is dominating every rational thought you have in mind.
His hand sneaks beneath your shirt, moving upwards slowly before cupping one of your breasts in his hand. His fingers pinch and flick the hard nipple earning a soft moan from your lips. His lips move away from your neck before lifting your shirt and latching on the hard bud.
Your fingers squeeze the edge of the counter behind you for support, as his tongue flicks over your nipple a few times and you can feel hot slick set in the gusset of your panties.
“Leon, kiss me.”
Wasting no time, his large hand cups your jaw before slamming his lips against yours roughly. You whine as his teeth capture your bottom lip, closing in on it possessively.
“Open your mouth.”
You oblige; he takes a moment to look at you before spitting in your mouth. Keeping your eyes glued on him, you swallow. He lets out a deep growl, sealing his lips onto your again. You kiss him back, trying to keep up with his feverish pace.
One of his knees slots between your thighs, pushing them apart. Unable to take the lack of stimulation, you begin to rock your hips on his thigh. The hot slick pooling in your underwear making you roll your head back in pleasure as you easily slide your clit across the clothed surface.
He watches you rock against him hungrily; his eyes fixated on the apex of your thighs.
“Let me lick your pussy please, smells so good.”
A smirk tugs on the side of you mouth as you move back. He takes your expression as a yes, hastily pulling down your shorts and leaving you in your soaking underwear. Now on his knees, he buries his mouth between your thighs. His hot mouth wraps around your clothed cunt, his tongue running up and down the slit. You bite your lip in pleasure at the sight, moving your legs apart to give him further access.
He kisses the area before nuzzling his nose in. You notice his hand moving over to the tent formed beneath his sweats, he rubs himself through the fabric as he takes in the scent of your weeping pussy.
You let him take his time, watching him bask in the feeling and you realize that you have never seen him look so pleased before. It doesn’t take long before his tail begins swinging left and right behind him, earning a soft chuckle from you.
“Laugh all you want, but have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.”
“How long?”
“Since I’ve first seen you in that slutty skirt of yours.”
His hand slaps your ass, catching you by surprise. He smiles against you, placing a soft bite against your thigh before yanking your underwear down. He helps you step out of them before pushing your thighs apart for him to see.
“Fuck, yes.”
He takes in the view for a minute before flattening his tongue against your slit and swiping across it. He laps at it a few times before latching onto your clit earning a moan from you. Placing your thigh on his shoulder, he moves in even closer towards you, his mouth sucking and flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer against you; his eyes glued on your face.
“Tastes so good, best fucking pussy ever.”
His thumb pulls back the hood of your clit as he starts flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud causing your thighs to shake in pleasure. His free hand runs up your side before fumbling with his sweat pants pulling out his leaking thick cock. You sneak a glance at the sight, the dark line of his happy trail moving all the way down to his cock, the sound of hissing causing you to snap your eyes back to his face as his hand wraps around the tip, before moving down to the base and distributing the shiny precum along the length.
He picks up the speed against your cunt, as well as the speed of his fist pumping up and down his length. It gets increasingly harder to keep your voice down with the sight in front of you single handedly making your mouth water.
Leon senses you orgasm coming closer, his mouth immediately moving away from you. You whine in protest, earning a low chuckle out of him. He pets across your clit a few times, watching as your hips instinctively buck towards the sensation.
“So needy.”
“Leon, please.”
Getting up, he steps out from his sweatpants and underwear pooling at his ankles. His lips press against yours again, you hand reaching over and stroking his cock gently. He grunts against your lips, his hands cupping your face.
“Turn around.”
He whispers, his hands now guiding you away from him. A mixture of anxiousness and excitement rushes through your veins. You bend over against the cold marble counter, and it doesn’t take long before you feel his leaking tip tease your entrance. His large hand grabs the fat on your ass, groping it before giving it a smack.
Spitting on his hand, he rubs the saliva across your cunt before penetrating two of his fingers inside of you. He pumps his digits in you a few times before he pulling them away and grabbing the base of his cock, the tip notching at your entrance before slowly bottoming out inside you.
You struggle to accommodate the size so suddenly, your fingers digging into the rigid counter next to you. Leon’s bulky frame encloses around you, his chest flush against your back. He places a few tender kisses on your neck as his hips begin to move. Taking notice of your scrunched up face, his fingers sneak between your thighs to rub circles on your slippery clit.
The stinging pain eventually subsides and is replaced with pleasure. His pace picks up and your mixed fluids begin to drip down the side of your thighs.
“Fuck, that’s it. Take it.”
He mutters between heavy breaths. You look behind your shoulder at him, his eyes locking with yours. He pauses momentarily before grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them behind your back.
A snap from his hips causes you to squeal, then again and again. The blend of pain and pleasure causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
“Look at you, taking my cock like you’re made for it. Like a fucking slut.”
Another smack gets placed on your ass; your brain turns to mush as he whispers pure filth into your ear. You feel your orgasm bubbling inside you, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.
“Gonna cum.” Your slur.
“I know, be a good girl and cream my cock.”
It doesn’t take long before you feel the band of your orgasm snap, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Leon moans at the sensation, his hand snaking around your neck and pulling you flush against him. His hand squeezes around your air pipe enough to make you light headed, his mouth latching onto your shoulder and biting the soft skin as he slams into you relentlessly chasing his own high.
“Feel so fucking good”
“Yeah, cream my cock.”
“Been dying to fuck you.”
His hand lets go of your bound wrists as he reaches his high. You feel the hot liquid shoot inside of you, his cock throbbing with want. He wraps his arms around you possessively, as he pumps his load into you a few more times coating your walls evenly before his hips come to a halt. The two of you remain still for a moment, and your brain tries its best to function normally.
You feel his palms run up and down your sides soothingly, as he reaches down to place a kiss in the middle of your back.
hiii everyone!!! i finished finals a few days ago, took a few days off, and now i'm back to working on the fic i was writing but omg it's giving me such a hard time. hopefully hopefully i'll be done with it soon cause ive been staring at that word document for too long lol.
This might be a weird request but do you think you’d ever do a cow hybrid! Reader and bull! Leon, I don’t really have anything specific in mind but it’s a pair that’s been in my mind all day ^^
Wait i actually havent heard of that trope before.If i can come up with a scenario that works for this trope i think it would be cute!
could you write leon x zombie!wife reader? i’ve only seen a couple ppl write this trope🙈🙈
Im not gonna lie it sounds really funny and sad at the same time😭😭 like not letting the reader go out much to not get her taken away cause he’s too attached and for the sake of public safety. Definitely sleeps with one eye open when sleeping next to her lol.
You might need to elaborate on the idea cause i unfortunately don’t see how anyone can get freaky in that state lol