leon n reader experimenting new kinks and leon is into way freakier shit than reader was expecting(i.e. wax play, choking, slapping, stepping on him, orgasm denial, bondage, etc.)
i’ve had this idea for forever but every time i start writing istg i get dumbed down to a kindergartener’s writing level
"are you sure?" your voice rings in leon's head. he's never been more sure of anything in his goddamn life, begging for you to please just slap him. you're on top of him, and the two of you were making out- until he asked you if you guys could try out some different stuff in the bedroom tonight. you and leon really aren't the couple that is outrageously freaky. well, not until now. "you won't hurt me, i swear. i've been tossed around by goddamn bioweapons, it's fine." leon reassures you as he is really giving you the best puppy eyes he can.
your hand lightly grazes his face, and leon pouts. "i know you can do better than that." you giggle and slap him a little harder- still no real umph behind it. "baby, c'mon. think about our fight last week or something. i want you to really slap me, okay?" leon pleads, his hands roaming to your thighs to rub affirming circles into your plush skin.
"i dunno if i can... it seems mean." blush raises to your face, trying to look anywhere but leon's eyes. "that's the point!-" leon begins, a little too excited of the thought of you being mean to him. you catch this; his sudden enthusiasm brings your gaze back to his. "-i mean, uh, that's okay. if you don't wanna, you don't have to..." he trails off, but looks a little disappointed.
but who are you to deny your boyfriend? so, without a word, you bring your hand and slap him against his face. hard. leon's hips instinctively bucks up, and he gasps. "y-yes, like that. fuck," he grabs your shirt to pull you into a kiss, and as soon as his lips are about to graze yours, you smack him again. leon whimpers under you. "you want me to be mean?" he nods reverently, biting his lip. anxious on what you're going to say, what you're going to think of him. you giggle, but it's different than before. there's something more lustful about it this time.
your other hand moves from his hip to palm his cock over his sweatpants. "never knew you were that dirty, leon," as you begin to draw circles onto his crotch. "f-fuck, i'm not-" and you slap him again. his hips buck up into your touch as he groans. "getting off to me slapping you? pretty dirty in my eyes... i wonder what else you want me to do to you, hmm?" you start to move your hand up and down his cock over the fabric separating you two, and leon whines. when he doesn't answer, you strike him again- and leon whimpers once more. you swear you can see a red mark forming. "tell me," you demand, really falling into your dom role.
he gulps. "i-i want you to tie me up, play with me. use me just for your- oh god- fun, please," he moans, not knowing what he's begging for. the added friction of his sweatpants and boxers is making him close embarrassingly fast. or maybe it's the way you're treating him. "and... you wouldn't let me cum, fuck, until you- you were done with me," leon pants, hips now following the movements of your hand. "almost straight out of a porno," you mock, grinning at him. "but that's okay. i'll give you what you want," your movements speed up on his cock, hips jerking.
"ffuck, need-" and you slap him one last time. "no. you'll take what i give you," you practically snap. leon jerks forward, gasping, and you move your hand on his face to keep his mouth open, spitting on his tongue. a guttural noise escapes leon as his orgasm washes over him, eyes squeezing shut and swallowing. he soaks the front of his boxers and pants as you let him ride it out, getting your hands all sticky.
as he comes back to reality, you scooch in closer to him- grounding him. he smirks. "didn't know you had it in you," he quips.
"didn't know you wanted all that." you tease, pulling him in for a kiss.
Something something. Spamton being so tiny he can scurry under tenna's clothes. Something something. Tenna not wanting to move too much lest he hurts him/his clothes.
I really love this idea Anon!! Because Spamton 100% would pull some shit like that-
So have a struggling TV man, doing his best to keep calm while a little gremlin wrecks his shit >:3
can we get a drabble of avery obsessing over the new baby mob models? IF U WANT OFC
The village had that soft, lived-in kind of morning where nothing felt rushed and everything smelled faintly of straw, bread, and clean cold air. The square wasn’t crowded, just quietly busy—villagers moving at an unhurried pace, voices low, laughter gentle, the kind of day that felt like it existed specifically to be remembered later. Someone had brought animals in from the outlying farms, not as an event exactly, more as a way for the kids to see the babies. Pens were set up near the well, low wooden rails smoothed by years of hands and weather, and inside them were small, warm creatures that Avery was absolutely not prepared for.
He froze the moment he saw them.
“Oh,” he breathed, hands immediately flying up to his mouth like the sound might escape and startle something. His core flared on instinct, a soft, bright glow blooming through his chest and bleeding faintly into his skin before he hurriedly tried to rein it in. It didn’t dim much. “Oh no. No, that’s—that’s not fair.”
D3r, a step behind him, followed Avery’s line of sight and immediately understood why Avery had stopped dead like he’d run into an invisible wall. Baby sheep—lambs—were wobbling around in the pen, their legs too long for their bodies, little hooves clicking softly against packed earth. Their wool wasn’t really wool yet, more like thick clouds clinging to round shapes, ears flicking as they bleated in high, startled little sounds that barely seemed possible from something so small.
And then there were the chicks.
Avery made a noise that could only be described as a whimper of pure, unfiltered emotion.
They were clustered under a heat lamp near the edge of the square, tiny yellow and brown fluffballs peeping quietly, some of them asleep, some toddling around with all the coordination of someone who had learned to walk approximately five minutes ago. One had tripped over nothing and simply accepted its fate, sitting down where it fell.
Avery’s knees visibly weakened.
“D3r,” he whispered, voice shaking. “They’re… they’re so small.”
“I can see that,” D3r said, but there was a smile in his voice even if his helmet hid most of it. He stopped beside Avery, solid and steady, a familiar anchor. “You alright?”
“No,” Avery said immediately and honestly, eyes shining. “I’m absolutely not. I think I might be dying. I think this is how I go.”
He took a hesitant step closer to the lambs, like approaching something sacred. One of them bleated again, loud for its size, and Avery made another sound, half laugh, half sob. His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore.
“They’re babies,” he said, like this was new information he had just discovered. “They’re just… little. Look at their faces. They don’t even know anything yet.”
D3r watched him with quiet fondness, the kind that sat heavy and warm in his chest. He’d seen Avery startled, anxious, curious, fierce—but this, this complete emotional short-circuit in the face of small animals, was something else entirely. Avery crouched down near the pen, careful not to cross any boundaries, eyes wide and soft, glow pulsing gently in time with his breathing.
One of the villagers noticed them then, an older woman with kind eyes and hands rough from work. She smiled knowingly at Avery’s expression.
“You can pet them, if you like,” she said. “They’re used to people.”
Avery looked up at her like she’d just offered him the moon.
“Are you serious,” he whispered. “Are you absolutely sure. I don’t want to— I mean I don’t want to scare them or—”
“They’ll be fine,” she chuckled. “Gentle hands.”
Avery nodded so quickly it was a miracle his head didn’t come loose. He reached out slowly, carefully, fingertips brushing the nearest lamb’s shoulder. The lamb startled for half a second, then leaned into the touch like it had always known Avery was supposed to be there.
Avery promptly started crying.
“Oh no,” he laughed through it, eyes wet, shoulders shaking. “Oh, that’s— that’s it. I’m done. D3r, it’s warm. It’s warm and it’s soft.”
“That does tend to be how animals are,” D3r said dryly, but his tone was gentle. He shifted slightly, adjusting the small weight in his arms.
Because somewhere between Avery melting into the dirt and the villagers going about their morning, a kitten had appeared. Grey and white, tiny enough to fit comfortably against D3r’s chest, paws kneading absently at the fabric of his cloak. It had decided, without hesitation, that D3r was acceptable.
Avery noticed.
He turned, saw the kitten, and made a sound that might have cracked something in his soul.
“You didn’t tell me there was a kitten,” he accused softly, like a betrayal.
“I didn’t know,” D3r replied. “It climbed up on its own.”
The kitten yawned, mouth impossibly small, then tucked its face under D3r’s chin. D3r adjusted his grip instinctively, one large hand carefully cupped around the kitten’s back, thumb resting lightly to keep it from slipping.
Avery stared.
“I love you,” he said abruptly, eyes flicking between D3r and the kitten. “Both of you. This is too much.”
His core brightened again, glow spilling more noticeably now, reflecting faintly off D3r’s armor. D3r felt it, that gentle warmth, familiar and grounding, and he tipped his head slightly toward Avery.
“Come look at the chicks,” D3r said, as if Avery hadn’t already clocked them the moment they entered the square.
Avery shuffled over, still half crouched, like standing fully upright might break the spell. The chicks peeped softly as he approached, one of them wobbling toward him with determined little steps.
He clasped his hands together to keep from touching.
“They’re like living dandelions,” he whispered reverently. “If I breathe wrong I’ll knock them over.”
One chick promptly tripped again.
Avery laughed, a bright, broken sound, then covered his mouth as tears slipped free anyway. “I can’t handle this. I can’t. They’re just… trying their best.”
D3r watched him from a short distance away, kitten still settled comfortably in his arms, and felt something deep and steady settle into place.
“You’re very soft today,” D3r said.
Avery glanced back at him, eyes red but smiling. “This is your fault. You brought me here.”
i've said before vic is a fantastically written character who is by basically any standard far from incompetent — and in fact demonstratively powerful, successful, and capable — but who, through a combination of trauma and cultural worldview, sees himself as unworthy of the position of Thinking. he very comfortably and consistently outsources his own thinking to his brothers who he has decided are suited to the task. it doesn't matter that he is a physically strong, socially influencial, militarily successful, and generally authoritative man. he has decided (not even consciously) that thinking is an activity reserved for his three brothers, while he is concerned with the practical matters of carrying out their will.
sometimes in his povs he comes dangerously close to truly experiencing a thought before shoving it back down and assuring himself that daddy euron knows best and he'll just go with that.
digital era was truly one of the best fics i have read this year, i hope you will explore their relationships further, i feel like robby would also like to be praised in bed as much as she did, and also i feel like they would be best friends aside from lovers, i really hope you will continue exploring their journey together, great work 🩶
Thank you so much, anon❤️ I didn't expect to love this couple so much, and I definitely didn't expect others to either! I loved this ask so much and kinda ran away wiht the answer until it became a blorbo/oneshot/stream of-consciousness answer, so if you wanna read about Robby's praise-kink you'll find it below.
First of all, YESSS, their relationship would evolve on two separate fronts simultaneously: as best friends and partners.
Based on that, I think they'll notice things about each other similar to how long-term friends do, which you might not usually when dating someone entirely new. At the same time, they'll be able to push the boundaries a bit further because they're dating and not solely confined to a friendship.
That's why I think DE!reader immediately clocks Robby might have a praise kink, bc he reacted similarly to how she did the first time she attempted to praise him (i.e., distracting her by kissing her silly in Digital Era part 2).
She'll know it's repressed by his work persona (attendings mostly give not take compliments), his doomerism, pessimism, and whatever else he should discuss with a therapist.
She also knows Robby isn't exactly insecure, but he has his moments. When he feels out of his element is one. When receiving affection without having done something he considers worthy is a second, and a much bigger one.
So, she knows she can't press too hard. Not go too fast forward to test the theory. But she will get to the bottom of it.
I think it would all begin really light, not heavy bedroom praise, just a compliment to gauge where his limit and consequently his avoidance starts...
You've spent the weekend together. One where you stayed at his place with an overnight bag packed for totally two nights and days.
Waking up to a sweet smell that drags you from bed and into the kitchen, you spot Robby by the stove. He's just plating a fluffy pancake, reaching to pour in a new portion of batter the moment after.
Before you now it, you levitate towards him.
"Hi, handsome."
It's instinctual, because he looks so goddamn good in a domestic setting. In the soft white t-shirt and plaid pants combo, his hair ruffled and his beard not as smoothly combed down.
But what makes him look even better is the hint of pink across his cheeks as he glances over his shoulder, suddenly aware he's not alone anymore when your arms wind around him from behind and kiss th space between his shoulder-blades.
Robby is accustomed to Myrna's flirting and teasing, and threats but it doesn't affect him because he knows she says them to rile him up. But when you say it? Oh, that's a whole different story because you always utter them in a slow, drawn-out way. Honest, warm, meaningful.
It makes a flutter spread through his chest like he's the nerd back in high school who got a crush on one of the hot girls in a class above him. The one who dishes out compliments with ease and flirts like she's done nothing else.
Despite not being older than him and nowhere near as desperate for attention as those girls he remembers from back in the day, you make him feel just like that. Squirmy, flushed, having trouble meeting your gaze.
***
When Robby eventually doesn't react to the terms of endearment DE!reader uses by flustering, I think the compliments would shift, now aiming to complement him as a person.
And I think she'll quickly notice that they can't be work-related, because Robby knows he's good and competent. So, despite liking those things just as much as the rest of him, she choose something else to focus on, things he wouldn't outright admit to himself.
It's still not flat-out dirty praise. No, no yet. But she voices things she likes about him that won't elicit a proud smile as he brushes it off with a 'I've worked as a doctor for decades, hopefully I'm decent': Rather something he open and closes his mouth to and rubs the back of his neck before averting his gaze.
I imagine her and Robby going on a more… let's say formal date, when she kinda intentionally, kinda unintentionally, tests it out the first time. Think restaurant with a dress code, requiring pre-booking at least a month in advance, and alcohol that's expensive but tastes good when paired with the food.
Both of them had had too much to drink to be road-legal. Not drunk, but still tipsy enough they decide to walk home from the restaurant along the river together. The champagne, wine, desserrt-wine has made her tongue a little looser than usual and Robby's blush easier to provoke…
You've pulled Robby to a stop, leaning against the railing behind you, his arms caging you in on either side.
Since you elft the restaurant, you've stared more at his profile as you walked side by side, now finally giving and pulling him into kiss.
You're thankful this is one of the less populated routes for walkers and runners, because you couldn't stand the embarrassment of making out in public like this otherwise.
It's on the verge of too much . Your head craned backwards as Robby bows his head to kiss you, some tangling of tongues, soft sounds, your gripping his arms to keep yourself steady, slightly wobblier on your heels than earlier in the evening.
"God, have I ever told you that I love how big you are?" You smile against Robby's mouth when you part. "Tall, broad, strong, such turn-ons."
You giggle when Robby ducks his head, trying to distract you from the way he blushes at your compliments and stop any more with a kiss. He succeeds until the second you both need air.
"It makes me feel so small," you continue like he hadn't interrupted you.
Your eyes drop, slowly taking in his entire body until your eyes connect with his again. This time, your voice dips into something more suggestive when you speak.
"Yeah, really fucking sexy having you tower over me."
"You're killing me, sweetheart," he groans, his face now growing red.
"Not like you do with that dashing smile, though," you bite your lips and gaze up at him.
Robby breaks into a smile as he chuckles, having to shake his head and look away because he feels his stomach churning with the look you gave him.
It's still twenty minutes until you're at his apartment; he won't walk through the city with a semi. To be honest, if you continued likee this it would be a full hard-on.
Suddenly, he feels your face get close to his. The hair on his arms stands as your breath puffs against the side of his face, only for goosebumps to spread when you speak breathily straight into his ear, "There it is."
A shiver works its way throughout his body, and he drops his head to your shoulder, hiding his face that feels like it burns through his blazer draped across your shoulders.
You're laugh is bubbly, but your voice doesn't lose its purr as you push on. "Do you know what I like even more?"
It's like a siren's song, drawing him from his hiding to face you again, all against his better judgment. "What?"
Robby should've known it was a trap from the way your eyes twinkled, but the alcohol made his mind fuzzier and your soft, warm body more enticing in the chilly night.
"I love your smile, but I love the look on your face when you get lost in it-"the way you enanucate it has him knowing exactly what you'ree implying, "-even more, you fuck me so good then."
"Jesus- let's get you home," Robby moves instantly, his hand finding your hip to pull you along with him as he continues the walk.
"Don't need to convince me." You're all smiles as he loops an arm around your waist, keeping you steady against his side.
He sends you a look, trying to force himself to be stern when the rosy colour of his cheeks gives away too much. "We'll sleep."
"Tell yourself that." Yeah, he is, Robby thinks, because he's fighting a erection with everything he's got and he can't imagine anything else becaus eof it. "But I will go to bed naked and gush about how good you've planned this night, how I want to thank you by mhmp-"
His big hand hastily covers your mouth when his arms go from your waist to loop over your shoulders.
"God, you're impossible when inebriated," his eyes close harshly for a second as he rubs the side of his face with his other hand. "I understand why you didn't drink the first time we met."
He feels you giggle beneath his palm, the sound escaping as repeated puffs of air through your nose and against his fingers.
***
From there, I imagine it just continues with more teasing-like praise, until they're officially together and have been for a while.
Because when they are, they've reached that point where she doesn't have to be shy about pawing at him out of nowhere, and Robby instantly knows what she wants. Nor that he knows what you want when you whine 'Michael, baby?' Or that h always answer with a very smug 'Yeah, sweetheart?' .
THAT is when she's finally warmed Robby up enough to compliments that he surrenders to your sweet, sweet praise...
"Fuck you feel so good," you moan, throwing your head back. Your fingers dig into the back of the couch as you ride him. "You always fill me up so good."
A throaty groan sounds from the man below as his fingers dig into the meat of your hips. Your head tips forward, watching Robby's twisted features. Eyes wrenched shut. Mouth hanging open. Head resting against the same pillowy surface you're twisting the life out of.
"Oh fuck," you moan at the sight. It catches his attention, making him peel his eyes open.
With brown eyes gazing at you half-lidded and unfocused, no furrow creasing his brows or the skin around his eyes, all pleasure-drunk as you bounce on him, a swell of emotions makes you whine.
You move a little faster, chasing the pleasure that's mounting fast from how deep he reaches inside and how your clit grinds against his pelvis.
"Michael!" you gasp. He twitches inside you, a groan that pivots to a moan following.
You know he's getting close, and you want to see him finish, not only feel it. You know exactly how to push him over the edge. One of your hands wedges beneath his neck, his beard brushing your palm as you cup his cheek.
Maintaining eye contact, you say, "You make me feel so good, baby." His eyes flutter, and you feel more weight against your hand, but he keeps facing you, holding your gaze. "Always. You're so good at fucking me."
"O-Oh, shit-," he grunts, nails digging into your skin now as he curls his digits. "Close, Jesus fuck, m'close-"
The sentence is choppy as he starts meeting your bounce with thrusts, pushing himself slightly deeper. It punches a sharp sound from you, bordering on too much but still on the side of pleasurable.
"I-I wan't you to come in me, want you to fill me up s-so good like you a-always do," your sentence is partly slurred as you keep yourself from orgasming. But there's no chance you can hide it from Robby; you're becoming tighter around him, that rhythmic flutter too telling.
Desperate, you beg him, "Please, please Robby, I need you to come, you feel too good, I-I feel too good, I can't-want you-"
That sent Robby over the edge.
He stills beneath you, head snapping back, throat tense as he moans out his release. It's drawn out, just like the thick, warm ropes of cum spurting inside you, filling you up until you feel it leaking out.
Robby looks absolutely gone when his whole body goes slack, head nearly hanging off the back of the couch as he pants through an open mouth when you don't stop moving.
"Fuck, so hot, you're so hot," you babble to yourself, now chasing your own high by concentrating on rocking back and forth as you replay what you just witnessed in your mind.
Robby's head bobs once, twice as he tries to lift it and watch you. In the end, he has to roll it sideways; his muscles lax and uncooperative.
There's a smile tugging his lips, more of a curl in the edges of his mouth. It's pleasure drunk, but the furrow between his brows tells you it's close to edging on too much as your warm heat teases his softening cock into overstimulation.
You're already feeling your body seize whenRobby to open his mouth, "Give as good as you take praise, sweetheart," it's a mumble, a grittily strung-together sentence. Yet, it's his following words, sighed beneath his breath as his eyes closed again, that make you reach your high, "So good."
You cry out, thighs shaking as you immediately fall against Robby's chest, convulsing as your orgasm finally hits.
Despite how his hand had dropped from your hips to rest motionless by your knees upon his orgasm, he catches you in his arms when you tip forward, enveloping you when your body vent lax and your mind blanked.
The wave of your high envelops you, frying your nervous system as you can do little but whine into his shoulder and fingers twitch where they're trapped between your chests. A grunt filters through the cotton in your ears, blissfully unaware of how hard you clench around Robby's slowly softening cock.
You swear you feel tears trail down your cheeks and a sob work itself up your throat when you finally gasp for a breath. Not far after, you vaguely feel Robby turn his head, kissing your temple before his lips are smushed against your ear.
"Let it out, you deserved it. Made me feel so good, sweetheart." And you know you can't be coming any harder, probably already coming down from your orgasm, but you're panting and shivering with his praise. Robby notices, his hand starting to rubb your back. Warm and soothing.
"Fuck me," you laugh breathlessly once you find your voice and your breathing isn't as laboured.
"Yeah, I agree," Robby hums lowly.
You blink open your eyes, feel the wetness making your lashes sricky. Twsiting your head on his shoulder, you face him despite the awkward angle for you both.
You smile at each other, sharing a satisfied sigh.
After one of Robby's hands reaches between you to wipe the stray droplets caught on your cheeks, you hum, "Knew you would like being praised."
He huffs softly, "Goating when I'm on my lowest? That's just rude."
"You do it all the time; this is just my revenge." You inch closer until your noses are touching
"Mhm?" He questions with a hum as your lips brush.
"Mhm." You confirm with a kiss.
When you part, you sit up again, carding your fingers through his chest-hair like you always do. Liking not only the feel but how Robby relaxes beneath your touch.
He watches you, silent for a beat, then, "Would you do it again?"
Your mouth ticks up into a smile. "Are you asking for it?"
Robby worked his jaw, tipping his head side to side. "If we keep it to a nice 10-1 ratio."
"In my favour?" You tease him with a loopsided smirk.
"No," he says, sitting up, bringing you chest to chest and almost at eye-level. He scoots to the edge of the couch. "In my favour."
"We'll see about- that!" Your sentence ends on a squeal as Robby heaves himself, consequently also you, from he couch.
He shifts his grip as he slides out from you, and by the gods, you hope your panties sliding into place without his cock out of the way stops the rush of liquid because it will be a nightmare to come back out and see a trail of mixed fluids on the floor.
"We both know you fold quicker than me." Robby muses as he walks to the bathroom wht you in his arms.
You tilt your head to whisper into his ear, smug because he hadn't gotten the taste of your dull effort just yet, "As I said, we'll see about that."
A/N: Am I turning Digital Era into a universe? Well it’s starting to look like it as I have another reqauest about this couple as well. So I guess if you guys got any thots or ideas about DE!reader, send them in!
