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Pairing: Daddy's best friend + mean!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: It was just supposed to be an easy fix. On the stuffed animal, thighs gripping it and in your mind your daddy's best friend. Surely, you hadn't planned for him to catch you. Or to bend you over his knee. Or to be balls deep into you the next moment, right?
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Mean!joel (he is back!!), huge age gap (20s and 60s), grinding on stuffed bear, orgasm denial, spanking, size kink, pet names, praise kink, slight degradation, pinv, clit rubbing, unprotected sex, crying, slight dub-con, darcyphilia, slight fauxcest (Joel calls himself uncle), dbf!joel, stern but also sweet joel, slight hair pulling, no outbreak
A/N: ummm my ADHD has been doing parkour in my brain so Sleazy!joel is taking his sweet time 😭 BUT I did write this little filler based on the mean!joel idea I had a few days ago, so enjoy this filthy mess pookies <333
Being home again is…unusual, to say the least.
Memories, emotions, things you thought you’d outgrown. You kneel besides an open box, sorting through old notebooks and trinkets, but your mind keeps wandering.
When you straighten up, your eyes catch the stuffed animal sitting in the corner of your bed, its fur a little worn, its button eye slightly crooked.
It looks like its been already waiting for you.
But you know that your dad mentioned that Joel was gonna stop by and pick up some tools he wants to borrow for a weekend project and—that could be nothing unusual, since Joel has been like an uncle to you while growing up but right now with the house so empty and your thoughts running, you find yourself giving in to that secret itch, straddling your old stuffed bear on the bed.
That plush toy, with its threadbare fur and button eyes, has been your guilty escape for years, especially with thoughts of Joel creeping into your fantasies back then—his broad shoulders, that deep voice, the way he handles everything around the house while having that strict, authoritative way about him—the same tone your dad uses, only sharper, meaner, and somehow aimed always right at you.
Your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged aside, and you're rocking slowly, the soft seam of the bear's belly pressing juuuust right against your aching clit.
But lost in the rhythm...you do not hear the front door opening downstairs.
Heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, pausing outside your door. A knock—light, hesitant.
"Hey, kiddo? Your dad around? He said he'd leave them tools in the kitchen, but I figured I'd check up here too." Joel's voice; that thick, rough, southern drawl wrapping around the words like warm gravel.
Before you can even respond, the door creaks open, and there he is...tall and big, flannel shirt sleeves rolled up over forearms corded with muscle, jeans hugging his solid thighs.
His eyes widen as he takes in the scene: you frozen mid-grind, thighs spread over the bear, your face flushing hot with embarrassment.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he growls, "What in the hell are you doin', girl? Humpin' away on some goddamn stuffed bear like a bitch in heat? Your daddy'd skin you alive if he saw this shit."
He doesn't yell. Yet. But there's an edge to it, stern, like he's caught you sneaking cookies, not this.
His jaw tightens, and he averts his eyes for a beat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, the picture of a man wrestling with himself.
'Shouldn't even be in here. This ain't right. Girl's barely outta her teens, and here I am, starin' at... fuck.' Guilt flashes across his weathered face, creasing those lines around his eyes, but his boots stay rooted to the floorboards.
He doesn't back out. Instead, his gaze flicks back to you, conflicted, a flicker of something darker stirring beneath the disapproval—his jeans tensing slightly at the crotch, betraying him.
You scramble to pull your skirt down, heart pounding, but the words stick in your throat.
"Joel, I—it's not what it—"
He steps closer, slow, like he's approaching a skittish animal, his big frame making the room feel small.
"Save the excuses, honey. What would your daddy think, huh? Me walkin' in on his little girl like this, all desperate and spread out on a damn toy? He trusts me to look after you when he's out, not to...hell, this is a mess." His tone's firm, paternal almost, laced with that sternness, but there's a coo in the way he says 'honey,' softening the rebuke just a touch.
He reaches out, his large hand gentle as he grips your upper arm, pulling you off the bear with ease.
The toy tumbles to the side, fur matted with your slickness, and you stand there on shaky legs, panties still to the side, feeling tiny next to him.
"Now, you listen here," he says, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed besides him as he lowers his weight onto the mattress.
His thigh presses against yours, warm and solid, and you can feel the heat radiating from him—the hard line of his cock straining against his jeans, impossible to ignore.
"You're better than this, sweetheart. Rubbin' yourself raw on some childhood relic 'cause those boys at school ain't cuttin' it? That's no way to learn about your body." He pauses, hand resting on your knee, thumb traicng slow circles. "But actin' like your uncle, I gotta teach you right. Can't have you hurtin' yourself on nothin' but fluff."
Your breath hitches at the contact, arousal pooling hotter despite the embarrassment.
"Joel, please...I didn't mean for you to see," you whisper, but your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, betraying your thoughts.
He chuckles low, a rumble in his chest, but it's not cruel—more like a man who's seen too much and knows how to handle it.
"Oh, I see plenty, girl. And that pretty face all flushed? Makes a man wanna help." His hand slides up your thigh, calluses rough but careful, pushing your skirt higher, taking a peek of your pussy. "But first, a little reminder of what happens when you get into trouble. Over my knee—c'mon now."
He pats his lap sternly, but his eyes soften. "It'll sting, but you'll thank me later, honey."
Trembling, you drape yourself across his lap, ass up, the position exposing you fully as your skirt flips over. He's so, so big—your small frame fits perfectly over his thick thigh and you feel his hardness press against your belly, a promise of what's to come.
"Good girl, takin' this like you should," he murmurs, praise slipping in before the first smack lands—firm but measured, the crack echoing softly. It stings, heat blooming, and you yelp, tears pricking your eyes.
"Easy now," he coos, hand rubbing the spot immediately after. "That's for bein' sneaky in your daddy's house. He raised you all good—don't need you ruinin' it on toys."
Another spank, a bit harder, on the other cheek, and you squirm, the friction against his cock making him groan quietly.
"There you go, your skin's turnin' pink so pretty."
He alternates, five or six measured swats, each followed by a stroke or a soft word—"Breathe through it, baby, you're doin' fine" building the burn without overwhelming.
Tears well up, spilling hot down your cheeks, and he notices, thumb brushing one away when you turn your head.
"Cryin' already, huh?" He chuckles.
By the end, your ass throbs, red and sensitive, panties soaked through.
He helps you up gently, but his eyes darken as he tugs the fabric aside, exposing your dripping folds, middle finger touching your lips.
"So wet from a spankin'. Pussy's all shiny and swollen—too sweet for what those boys got, I bet. But I can fix that, teach you how a real man handles it."
His middle finger stays between your folds as he stands, unzipping his jeans, his cock jumping free—massive, thick and veined, easily bigger than anything you've ever had.
"Back on that bear, c'mon" he orders, guiding you with a hand on your waist. "Gonna show you the difference, but you grind nice and slow—learn to build it just right."
You straddle the toy again, the fur already damp and sticky from before, a yucky reminder as it clings to your slick skin.
Lowering yourself, you begin to rub tentatively, the plush dragging against your clit in messy slides—gross, the way it mats further with your arousal, but thrilling under his watch.
Joel positions himself behind you on the bed, his weight making it dip, hands spanning your hips easily.
"That's it, babygirl, move those hips," he praises, voice gravelly as his cockhead nudges your entrance, hot and blunt. But he doesn't thrust yet—teases, sliding along your folds. "Feel how big I am? Your little hole's flutterin' so scared but wantin'. Your daddy would have my hide for this, but you need teachin'—can't let you settle for less."
Guilt flickers in his tone, but he presses forward, just the tip nudging you, stretching your tight walls with a burn that makes you gasp.
"Oh—Joel, it's too much," you whimper, tears starting again, body tensing as you grind on the bear, the fur chafing wetly, adding to the overstimulation.
"Shh, easy, sweetheart," he coos, one hand stroking your back tenderly while the other fists your hair lightly, not yanking hard—just guiding your head back to arch you. "Breathe, honey. You're so tight, squeezin' like you were made for this fat cock. Just the head—feel it? Push back slow now."
He inches deeper on your movement, talking you through each bit: "There, darlin', another inch. Your pussy's openin' up so good, even if it hurts a lil'. Cry if you need to; those tears tell me you're feelin' it right."
He groans when you sob, his hips twitching, but he keeps it paternal, praising: "Good girl, takin' your lesson."
One hand grips your hips, his cock entering your walls. "Going deeper now—yeah, juuuust like that."
You rock on the bear, the wetness intensifying—the plush soaked, strands sticking to your thighs and folds, a filthy grind that makes squelching sounds with each roll. It's degrading, the childhood toy turned lewd, but his voice anchors you.
"Grind harder on that thing," he instructs, meaner now. "but don't you dare to cum yet. Earn it by lettin' me fill you proper."
He sinks halfway, the stretch agonizingly full, your small hole straining around his girth.
"What would your daddy say? Hm? His girl stretched on her uncle's dick."
Tears stream freely now, mixing pain and pleasure as he bottoms out finally, balls resting against the bear's fur.
"All in—feel me in your belly? Hold still, darlin', adjust to it." He holds, stroking your sides, cooing praises: "Proud of you, takin' every inch like a champ."
Then, after a while, thrusts start—slow drags out, then pushes in, talking through them: "Out easy...easy. Now in...deep. That's it."
You cry harder, the dual sensations overwhelming—the bear's damp fur rubbing your clit in sticky, gross friction, his massive length pounding relentlessly.
"That's it...real deep." He whispers.
"Joel—please, it hurts so good," you sob, grinding down.
"Yeah? Tell me more, honey," he urges, hand leaving your hair to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple. "How's that big cock feel compared to your toy? Deeper than any boy could go—gonna make you forget 'em all."
His pace builds, hips snapping, but he denies you—slowing when you clench.
"Not yet, babygirl. Hold it for me. Cry those pretty tears but don't cum."
Minutes drag, drawn out with his mix: harsh commands like 'Take it harder—learn it, that's it.' and tender coos like 'Almost there, baby, you're perfect.'
Your tears straining your cheeks, your cunt clenching down, as you try to hold the orgasm.
"Milking me so well. Pussy is eager to cum, huh?" He asks, stroking your sides. His thrusts quicken, head pressing right into sweet spot in you.
Finally, as your body quakes, he growls approval.
"Alright, cum now, honey. Real slow. Let go around my cock and on that bear." His thumb presses your clit against the plush, rubbing through the mess, while he pushes his cock deep into your cunt. You shatter—screaming, tears flooding, grinding wildly as waves crash, his thumb amplifying the release.
Joel follows, burying even deeper, cock releasing hot spurts and filling you up slowly. "That's it, here it comes. Take it real deep into that small pussy."
He collapses over you briefly then, breath hot on your neck, cock still releasing the smallest amounts of cum into you. He pulls out slightly, watching everything drip down onto the bear.
"Your dad's gonna kill me," he mutters, his hand strokes your back almost tenderly. "But you needed that lesson. Don't let me catch you on that toy again—unless I'm here to fix it."
I feel like i could've made him a bit meaner...but idk.
attention freak nation, would you enjoy a super filthy fic with cowboy leon kennedy x reader x cowboy arthur morgan ?? in which they rescue her (or something like that) and then they ask for payment >:)
⊱ ۫ ׅ ♱ soldier boy likes you loud and fucked stupid. mdni, 18+
soldier boy who likes having a hand around your neck while you fuck so he can notice when your pulse quickens. he never holds back however, cock buried deep in your cunt while his thick fingers wrap around your neck even tighter. he just smirks—that shit eating grin of his, all self-assurance and quiet arrogance—and when your pulse eventually spikes under him, that’s just a sign for him to go faster, deeper into your needy hole. his hands are quick to lift your legs off the counter on onto his shoulders, cock still buried inside of you, making the angle get better with each thrust, “like that pretty girl? like being fucked stupid like this?”
“fuckkingg hell, what a sight” he grumbled as his cock nudged that sweet spot deep inside of you, pace never wavering, enjoying your frantic gasps as you choked for air. “like when i choke you like this huh? fucking filthy”
soldier boy who, when you’re close to passing out, air barely entering your lungs anymore, he brings a hand to your cheek—not caressing nor gently, and definitely not in a comforting manner. he taps it twice, forcing you to turn to look at him. “a-ah, don’t even think about passing out on me doll”, he hums mockingly against your ear, voice deep and rough like gravel, “i’ll have you choking on something else after this”
soldier boy who pushes you against the wall when you’re being loud. he bathes in that shit—likes you loud and needy, whimpering about how it’s too much, drooling on his fingers as he takes you from behind. it’s no surprise honestly, he just loves when he can hear how good he makes you feel, and he sure as hell enjoys knowing that the entire vought building knows the same.
“you wanna be fucking loud huh? want everyone to know how much of a mess you are taking this cock?” he grunts, lips curled into a smirk as he comes closer, “it’s no use to act so shy now, let them hear how good i make this pussy feel”
soldier boy who doesn’t give two shits about fucking in a public display. he’ll dismiss it gruffly, tone suddenly a pitch lower than usual “you think i care about an audience?” with his hand loosely travelling down your thigh, playing with the hem of that skimpy skirt you were wearing that made him wanna grab you and take you right then and there. a dark chuckle slips past him as his other hand traces the curve of your jawline. “if i wanna fuck my girl? I'll do it right fucking here.”
soldier boy who loves it when you start whining, asking him to slow down, whimpering and begging him to stop—cause he gets too rough sometimes. when he does eventually slow down and lean closer to you, your body relaxes instantly, and you´re dumb enough to think that he actually heard you. but the moment your lips part to speak up, he immediately speeds up, smile so smug and proud of himself when he sees your teary eyes widen. yeah he’s a menace like that.
soldier boy who believes that using a condom is a waste of plastic. why use it when he can feel your overstimulated walls spasm around his length, making you feel every inch? it’s not like he didn´t look forward to having any children either, so why not better than to breed you instead? watch thick ropes of cum leave your insides, it’s just a sight that undoes him completely.
cybella’s thoughts⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ lawd save me. i’m back and as needy as ever. i haven´t even finished s5, yikes.
Summary: Daddy Joel knows how much your period hurts you. So he takes you to the strawberry field he found. He carries you when your legs give out, feeds you berries one by one, wipes the juice from your chin with his thumb. All he wants is to make you feel better, to remind you that you're his sweet, whiney girl.
Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, FAUXCEST, huge age gap (60s and 20s), daddy!joel, ddlg undertones, pinv, unprotected sex, creampie, slight breeding, praise kink, spitting into mouth, slight food play, slight cum/period eating, clit rubbing, period sex, secret relationship, idk how much it makes sense that strawberries exist after the outbreak but
A/N: guess who had strawberries AND her period in this heat? 🥵 i was craving some dada joel and some ickiness sooo...ALSO im currently writing a lot of requests (bc they've been sitting in my inbox for ages🫣) and one of them is sleazy!joel hehe. As usual: if you don't like something you can just scroll and block me. I hope yall enjoy this one pookies <333
Joel had a surprise for you.
He lied to Maria, the Guards and even to his own brother Tommy.
"Got some scoutin' to do," he told them. "Won't be long."
And once you two were out of Jackson, he slowed. His hand moved from yours to the small of your back, guiding you through the tall grass.
But the last half mile had been rough. You've been whining under your breath, one hand pressed to your lower belly, the ache a dull, stubborn throb that pulsed down into your thighs.
The walk had begun to feel endless, every step a small betrayal as you dragged your feet through the wild grass, letting out a little huff of complaint.
"Joel…where are we goin'?" you whine, your voice thin and pitiful.
He doesn't answer, just keeps walking ahead, his broad back a quiet wall of patience. The afternoon light catches the gray in his hair, and you watch the way his shoulders move under his flannel. He's carrying a small canvas sack, but you don't know what's in it.
"Dad," you try again, letting the syllable stretch into a whimpering plea, knowing the name gets him.
He glances back, and his eyes are soft, the corners crinkling. "Hush now, sweet girl. We're almost there."
You let out a dramatic sigh, but you keep walking.
Your underwear is already damp with blood again, the fresh pair with a slip he helped you into earlier felt already too sticky. You remember the way he knelt in front of you in your little room, his big hands gentle as he peeled off the stained panties, knowing you're embarrassed. "That's alright, honey. S'just your body. Nothin' to be ashamed of." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your hipbone, then another to the swell of your belly, and you'd felt the tension crack open, just a little.
The first thing anyone noticed about Joel Miller was his rough edges; knuckles permanently shadowed by old scars, deep-set furrow of his eyebrows. A voice that could drop into gravel and command a room by sound alone.
But you...you noticed his soft edges.
Maybe it was the way his fingers moved with a deliberate gentleness on your skin. Pressing a warm hand on your belly. Smoothing back your hair when you dozed off against his shoulder. The way he cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly, before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
Or maybe the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that kept him grounded in this God abandoned world.
You noticed it first, when you called him 'dad'.
It slipped out, honestly.
You were curled in his lap after a nightmare—something about clickers, about teeth, about the cold. He had held you, rocked you, murmured soft, sweets words into your hair. And you had looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks and said, "Thanks, Dad."
His hands had stilled. His eyes gone dark and soft and hungry all at once. He didn't correct you. He just kissed your forehead and said, "Anytime, bun."
Later, when he was on top of you, cock hard against your thigh, he growled (or begged) for you to "Say it again," and you did.
But nobody needed to know, of course.
What would everyone say? A sixty year old, together with a woman whose youth made him feel almost ancient.
And oh, how much he tried to forget your face, to ignore your touch, to dismiss his feelings for you.
You were too young to remember the world before, too soft, too sweet. He said that as if it was an accusation, but his eyes said something else.
Now you're outside, and the world smells of earth and green, and you're following him like a child, trusting blindly.
Halfway up a small rise, you stop, leaning over with your hands on your knees. "Can't," you breathe. "Cramps are real bad."
Joel turns, and there's no impatience in his face, only that steady, watchful tenderness that makes your chest ache.
He walks back to you, and without a word, he crouches, one hand reaching for your wrist, pulling you gently towards his back. "C'mon. I got you."
You don't argue.
You climb onto his back, your thighs wrapping around his waist, your arms looped over his shoulders. He stands easily, one hand cupping your ass, the other holding the sack. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing that comforting smell he has.
The sway of his walk is hypnotic, and your cramps start to ease slightly with the steady motion.
"You're so good to me," you murmur against his skin, pouting.
"S'what daddies do, peanut." His voice is a low rumble, the vibration felt more than heard.
He carries you for what feels like forever, until the path opens into a small clearing. You lift your head, and your breath catches.
Strawberries.
A whole patch of them, sprawling over the ground like a spilled paint of red and green. The vines are tangled, the berries fat and gleaming, some half-hidden under leaves. The sun falls directly on them, and the scent rises up—sweet, earthy, soft.
It's impossible, a tiny miracle in this broken world, a secret pocket of something beautiful.
"Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with wonder.
He sets you down carefully, and you stand there, staring.
"Found it last spring," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. "Thought you’d…I dunno. Like it." You didn’t give him time to second-guess it—just threw your arms around his neck, pressing sticky kisses to his stubbled jaw until he huffed and swatted your ass. "Quit it. Pick some before the birds do."
You let out a sound—something between a gasp and a laugh and you immediately dropped to your knees in the middle of the patch, the soft soil giving way, the leaves brushing your knees.
You plucked a strawberry, fat and crimson, and bought it to your mouth. The first bite is a burst of sun and sugar, juice running down your chin, and you moan, closing your eyes.
Joel chuckles, a low, warm sound. "That good, huh?"
You don't answer.
You're already reaching for another, and another, stuffing them into your mouth, the red juice dripping over your fingers, staining the front of your dress.
The sweetness floods your tongue, and for a moment, the cramps, the heaviness, the embarrassment of earlier—all of it just fades.
You're just a girl eating strawberries in a field, and your daddy found this for you.
He settles down across from you, legs crossed, watching you with an expression of pure, quiet adoration.
"Messy girl," he coos.
You look up at him, your lips smeared red, your hands sticky. You grin, a wild, happy grin. "Dad. Open your mouth."
He raises an eyebrow but complies, his lips parting slightly. You pick a perfect berry, hold it up to his mouth, and press it gently past his lips. He bites down, and you feel the slight brush of his teeth on your fingertips. You giggle, pulling your hand back, but he catches your wrist, sucking the juice off your fingers with a slow, gentle pull.
Heat flares low in your belly, a different kind of ache.
"Gonna bite your hand off if you ain't careful, bunny." he murmurs, his eyes darkening.
"Don't you dare," you say, but your voice is breathy.
He lets your hand go, and you pop another strawberry into your own mouth, chewing slowly, watching him. Your dress is hiked up a little from kneeling, the hem bunched around your thighs.
You're not wearing a bra (you never do when you're with him) and the thin cotton of the dress clings to the curve of your breasts.
You feel his gaze travel down, lingering, and then a slow smile spreads across his face.
"Lemme see, babygirl."
Your heart stutters. "Dad…"
"C'mon. Just a peek."
He leans forward, his fingers hooking into the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch. The air kisses your thighs, your belly. You shiver, but you don't stop him.
His eyes drop to the patch of white cotton between your legs, the damp spot visible, pale pink. He hums, low and appreciative.
"So pretty," he breathes, and then he's leaning in, pressing his mouth to the inside of your knee, then higher, his lips brushing fire along your skin.
You forget about your strawberries. You forget about everything. Your head falls back, a small moan escaping your lips.
His fingers find the waistband of your panties, sliding under, brushing through the soft curls. You gasp, the touch electric, and then he cups you, his palm warm and firm, pressing against the ache.
"Daddy," you whisper, your voice small. "S'full of blood. It's…messy."
He looks up at you, his mouth still against your thigh. "Don't give a damn, honeybun. You think I care about a little blood?" He shakes his head slowly, his eyes holding yours. "You're my sweet girl. Every part of you. Even the messy bits."
Your cheeks flush red.
Then he shifts, laying you back on the grass, the ground soft and cool under you.
The strawberry vines brush your arms, the leaves tickling your skin. He moves between your thighs, settling his weight over you, and you feel the length of him pressing against your hip, hard even through his jeans.
"Let's make you feel even better, huh?" he asks, his voice a low, rough whisper.
You nod, your mouth dry.
He strokes your hair away from your face, his thumb tracing your jaw. "Are you gonna let dad see your pretty pussy?"
The words send a shiver through you, a wet heat pooling deeper than the cramping. You nod again, your eyes half-lidded, already sinking into that warm, foggy space where there's only him, only daddy.
He lifts the hem of your dress higher, bunching it around your ribs, and then he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulls them down slowly, deliberately. The damp cotton slides over your hips, your thighs, and then he's lifting your legs to slip them free. The air hits your cunt, cool and tingling, and you feel the slow, thick trickle of blood sliding down to the grass. A sensation that would make you flinch if it was anyone else.
But it's Joel.
He looks down at you, at the smear of red on your inner thighs, the way the ground beneath you darkens. He makes a sound, soft and almost reverent. "Look at you," he murmurs. "Bleedin' into the grass."
Your face heats. "Daddy…"
"Shh, baby. S'beautiful." He leans down and kisses your soft belly, just above the mound of your cunt.
Then he's unbuckling his belt, pushing his jeans and briefs down just enough for his cock to jump free, already thick and flushed, the head glistening with pre-cum.
You watch him stroke himself once, twice, his eyes fixed on you, nodding as if he is counting his strokes.
"Tell me if it's too much," he says, but his voice is thick, and you know he's as desperate as you are.
He lines himself up, and you feel the blunt pressure at your entrance, warm and heavy. Then he pushes in, and the sensation is a shock—tight, wet, the blood acting as a slick, silky glide. You gasp, your fingers digging into the grass. Your body clenching around him, the fullness making you dizzy.
"Dad, oh—"
"I know, I know," he hushes, stroking your hair, his forehead pressed to yours. "Let go, honey. Let daddy in."
He pushes deeper, the squelching sound is loud in the quiet field, obscene but intimate. The blood and the wetness and the heat—it all blends together into that perfect, cozy feeling.
That feeling only Joel could give you.
He starts to move, slow, deep thrusts that rock your whole body, the ground beneath you soft and yielding.
"Somebody'll see us," you whimper, but the words come out as a moan.
He shakes his head, his breath hot against your cheek. "Cleared the whole area before. It's not patrol time. Just us, baby bun. Just you and me."
He picks up a strawberry from where it fell, pressing it to your lips. You open, bite down, the juice running down your chin. He leans in, his mouth catching yours, and he swallows the bite from your lips, his tongue sliding against yours.
As he pulls back, you see him gather a bit of spit and juice in his mouth, and when he opens, he lets it drip into yours.
"Swallow," he murmurs, and you do. "That's my girl."
His cock is a steady, dragging pressure inside you, sliding against that deep spot that makes your toes curl. Your hands find his chest, clutching his flannel, and you arch into him, desperate for more. The cramps start to dissolve under the pleasure, only the squelching sounds of blood being the proof of your period.
The red and his cum will mix later, but for now, there's only that gentle rhythm, the wet slap of his hips against your thighs, the soft grunts he makes against your neck.
He looks down between your bodies, at where the red is pooling around you, staining the green leaves. "Aw, honey," he coos, and there's a tenderness in his voice that makes your heart clench. "Makin' a mess of yourself." He reaches down, his fingers dipping into the warm slick, and he brings them to his lips, tasting. "S'just life, baby. Nothin' bad."
Your eyes well up, a mix of embarrassment and overwhelming love. "Dad..."
He shushes you, kissing your eyelids, your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You're doin' so good. So beautiful. Just let it happen."
He slows his pace, making each thrust a languid, deliberate drag, and you feel every ridge of him, every pulse. Your body starts to tighten, the pleasure building like a wave, slow and inevitable. You're gripping him, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.
"Close," you breathe. "Daddy, I'm—"
"I know, sweet girl. What did we speak about? Focus on that feeling. Focus on daddy." His voice dropping low.
He reaches between your bodies with that, his thumb finding your clit, pressing in tight circles.
The sensation spikes, your mind trying to focus on his thrusts and on the pleasure while a foggy cloud wraps around yours mind.
Joel coos and coos, persistent with his thrusts and rubs.
"C'mon, peanut."
And you shatter, your back bowing, a cry torn from your throat. Your cunt clenches around him in rhythmic waves, spilling blood, and he groans. His hips stutter as he drives into you one last time, spilling deep inside, the warmth spreading through you like honey.
He stays buried, his forehead resting on yours, both of you panting.
The world is silent again except for the hum of insects, the distant rustle of leaves. You can feel the mixture of blood and cum seeping out of you, pooling on the grass, and for a second, embarrassment flickers.
But then Joel shifts, lifts himself, and looks down.
He scoops his fingers through the slick, gathers a pearl of red and white on his fingertip. He looks at you, his eyes soft and dark, and brings his hand to his mouth, tasting it slowly.
"Tastes so sweet," he says, his voice husky.
You bury your face in his chest, hiding your blush, and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. He rolls to the side, careful not to crush you, and you curl into him, your head on his shoulder. The strawberry leaves are crushed beneath you, the juice and blood and cum mingling with the earth.
He picks a fresh strawberry from a nearby vine, holds it to your lips. You open, and he feeds you, watching you chew with that soft, paternal satisfaction. Then he plucks one for himself, eats it, and kisses you, sharing the taste.
"This was a good surprise," you murmur, your eyelids heavy.
"The best surprise is seein' my girl happy." He strokes your hair, his fingers catching on tangles, his thumb tracing the shell of your ear. "You feelin' better?"
You think about the cramps, which are still there, but muted now, cushioned by the glow of pleasure. You think about the blood, the mess, and how he didn't flinch, didn't make you feel less. You think about the way he looked at you, as if you were something precious and holy, even with red smeared across your thighs.
"Yeah," you whisper. "Much better."
He hums, satisfied, and pulls you tighter. The sky is deepening to gold and pink, the sun lower now, casting long shadows across the field. You're sticky and sore and perfect, and he's here, solid and warm, your daddy in a world that doesn't deserve him.
You reach for another strawberry, and he catches your wrist, bringing it to his mouth, biting it in half, offering you the other half with his lips. You take it, and the sweetness blooms on your tongue, the last light of day catching the red on his lips.
"My messy girl," he says, so softly it's almost a prayer.
And you smile, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the blood and the cum and the strawberries all blending together into one warm, pink, perfect afternoon.
This is so short🫣 i hope you all stay hydrated especially while taking antidepressants or stimulants!!! Also, i think the past tense and the present tense is very confusing in this, it's the one thing i struggle with most so im sorry...🥲
please go and educate yourselves about everything that trump is doing. ice agents are going out and ripping families apart, killing innocent people, kidnapping people, raping women, etc.
if you support ANYTHING that is happening in the world right now don’t ever interact with my account and block me. you are not welcome here.
children are being KIDNAPPED and held in facilities for simply just existing. if you can reason with the people who are doing said things you actually need to choke.
my entire heart goes out to the families that are experiencing such violence. please educate yourselves and spread the word because i don’t see enough people speaking up about this.
not really a request but I love your step-dad Titus blurb. I haven't even finished the movie but hes so hot I hate him. I can imagine him having you over his knees to spank you about what the hell ever, but seeing youre wet and getting cocky ab it. I hate him hes gross ugh
ohhhh my goodness— and this is what gets titus to finally cross that line with you unfortunately >_< as terrible as he is, he’s really been trying to keep his touches to a minimum and save it all for your intensive punishments, but then there’s a wet patch on your panties and he can’t ignore that !!! he’d be stupid not to.
content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, f!reader, stepcest, impact play / spanking, use of daddy, crying, hint of mind break, dubcon.
there’s only so much you can do when you’re placed over titus’s knee.
he limits how much you can kick, pinning your legs with one of his own so you can’t move properly. you can only squirm and wiggle your hips against his thigh when the pain gets to be too much. when your soft skin is tender and hot to the touch. you’re left to cry and hiccup and count your lucky stars that he’s not using your hairbrush this time.
all your common sense has fizzled into nothing from the pain and humiliation, so much so that you’re wailing for him— begging your daddy (something you would never call him otherwise, only when he’s broken you down like this) to stop punishing you and make it better. he sighs as if it pains him to treat you this way. you both know he loves it. a firm hand rubs over your burning skin and you’re petrified it’ll come down on your sensitive flesh once more. he watches you shiver at the action, hears you sniffle and whimper quietly into the velvet of the sofa.
suddenly your panties are bunched up and pulled taut against your aching cunt, making you yelp and lift your upper body so you can peer at him over your shoulder with big teary eyes. titus’s thick thumb rubs over your cunt through the thin, sheer material. he can feel how sticky your soft folds are already, and your hips press against his thigh on instinct, running away from the relief despite how bad you need it.
“look at that,” he breathes out, taunting you with every syllable as he grins down at the growing wet patch on your panties, “is this why you couldn’t behave earlier? does daddy’s girl just need her cunt played with? … i bet you were a mess before we started.”
“no, daddy!” you sniffle and whine. you’re fully expecting another five to ten spanks for moving so much, but they never come. not even when you shake your head and hiccup, “no, i don’t need it!”
“be grateful i’m doing this for you,” he snarls over your ear, before forcing you to turn your head and look at him, using his freehand and a tight grip on your throat, “good girls don’t make a mess from their punishments— you’re lucky you didn’t earn yourself another one.”
attention freak nation, would you enjoy a super filthy fic with cowboy leon kennedy x reader x cowboy arthur morgan ?? in which they rescue her (or something like that) and then they ask for payment >:)
i was wondering if you could do something with leon re9, age gap but he’s the older one. friends with benefits with the obvious rule of no feelings even tho leon is definitely falling in love, sex in his Porsche 😛, after care and then he confesses his love to you and you do the same. something around that idea LOL i love your writing
【⠀new ִ ࣪𝑠ᴀvᴇ 𝑓ɪʟᴇ ׅ🎮 】 hello dear bunny reader !! thank you for this request, and sorry it took so long, uni has been kicking my ass fr. i hope you love it !! ♡
🇹🇦🇬🇸 : established fwb relationship, slight fluff, implied age gap, car sex, leon is a talkerrrr, happy ending yaaay!
"Hngh—come on, pretty girl." Leon murmurs against your skin, teeth scraping gently. "I know you can. You're my good girl, right?"
He leans back into the seat slightly to get a better look at your face, all wrecked by pleasure that was rippling through you.
"H-Ha— yes, yes, 'm your good girl.."
"Goddamn." he groans, thrusts growing more erratic now as that familiar coil starts to tighten again, the sweet edge of release so close. "Look so damn good right now, baby, all fucked out f'me. Gonna— shiit.. Gonna come again?" He pants, eyes locked on yours. "Show me how— how much you enjoy this. How much you like it when I fuck you deep just how ya need it."
"I-I love it—" Your eyes are shut tightly as he fucks up into you, your elbows barely holding you backed up onto the dash board. "Oh, mhh, Leon~"
One hand moves from your hip to the place where your bodies meet, his fingers teasing your puffy clit with cruel circles.
"This what you wanted, sweetheart?" he hisses, his voice rough and breathless. "This what you thought about, when you called me during that meeting earlier? Wanted to get me mad— wanted me like this, deep enough to feel me in your lungs, huh?"
"Y-Yes, sorry, 'm sorry!"
His fingers press down harder, an edge to his touch that borders on ruthless now. "Look at you— Taking it so well, baby.. Yeah, look at her.." Leon tuts, his other hand roughly palming at your exposed tits while his hips buck up with insane speed.
"L-Leon, 'm gonna—"
Leon growls as he feels you clench around him, his fingers pressing down just a little harder, punishing on your wet bud.
"Do it." he orders roughly, hips slamming into you with enough force to make the whole car shake. "C'mon for me— Let me feel it."
His hand slides up and tightens in your hair as his movement turns brutal and uneven. "Fuckin' hell— I can't get enough of this tight pussy." Leon rasps against your ear before nipping at the lobe sharply.
"Oh my god, shit—!" You squeal.
Leon growls as he feels you shatter above him, his rough palms pressing down on your hips to keep you there, dragging out every last second of your climax.
"Thaaat's it.." he rasps against your throat, teeth biting flesh. "Fuckin' perfect, sweetheart."
His hips stutter wildly as the sensation of you squeezing around him pushes him over the edge too and with one final thrust, Leon buries himself deep in your cunt as his orgasm rips through him.
"Shit, shit—"
He holds onto that high for a few rough pants before your body finally collapses on top of him in a sweaty heap.
"Goddamn, doll.." he breathes against your neck, his heart still hammering. "Hell of a way to wind down."
He presses a tired kiss to your shoulder before lifting his head just enough to look at you with a lazy, sated grin. "You okay? I didn't hurt ya' too bad?" His hand moves to trace light patterns down your side.
You hum all tired, fingers dragging lazily across his damp chest. The leather seats creak softly when he shifts beside you, one large hand still spread over your waist like he forgot to let go. Outside the windows the city glows gold and blurry with late night rain, the windshield fogged long ago.
Leon watches you quietly for a moment, not in the way he usually does after all this, smug or amused because he made you come like five times.
It unsettles you more than it should. "You sure you're okay?" he asks again. You nod against his shoulder. "Mhm. Yep." His thumb keeps tracing absent minded circles into your skin. He looks exhausted, hair messy, lips swollen.
Usually this is where one of you makes a joke. Usually this is where he lights a cigarette with the windows cracked open while you tease him about eventually dying of lung cancer. Usually this is where you both pretend none of this means anything.
Leon exhales slowly through his nose and leans his head back against the seat. "We gotta stop doin' this."
Your stomach tightens immediately. There it is. The inevitable end.
You force out a laugh. "What? Finally getting tired of me?"
He turns his head sharply. "Don't." The smile slips from your face.
His jaw flexes like he's irritated with himself for saying it like that. A long silence settles between you before he mutters. "You know I don't mean it like that."
You stare down at your hand resting on his chest. "Then what do you mean?"
Leon doesn't answer right away. His fingers stop moving against your waist, then quietly, almost bitterly, he starts "Means I can't keep pretending this is casual."
The rain taps softly against the windows.
Leon laughs once under his breath, but there's no humor in it. "Jesus Christ." He rubs a hand over his face. "Look at me."
You do. His eyes are tired but honest. A little scared, maybe.
"I tried." he says. "Believe me, sweetheart, I tried real hard to keep this where it was supposed to be." Another dry laugh. "Friends, sex. No feelings. Simple."
"But?"
"But somewhere along the line I started wonderin' what the hell you were doing when you weren't with me." His gaze drops briefly to your lips. "Started getting pissed when other guys looked at you too long, or when you didn’t call every day."
Your chest aches. "Leon.."
"I know. I'm way too old f'you and—" He shakes his head immediately. "I know this wasn't the deal."
The vulnerability in his voice nearly kills you. This is Leon Kennedy. Leon who flirts through everything, who smiles when he's bleeding, who keeps every ugly thing buried under charm and whiskey and really stupid one liners.
But right now he looks terrified.
"I just.." He swallows hard. "I love you. That's the problem."
Oh.
Leon looks away first, jaw tight like he already regrets saying it. Then your hand moves before your brain actually catches up, fingers grabbing his chin gently and pulling him back toward you.
"You dumb idiot." you whisper and his brows furrow slightly.
You kiss him before he can say anything and the kiss that strips everything else away. When you pull back his expression looks almost stunned.
"I love you." You smile softly despite the tears threatening to leave your eyes. "I was waiting for you to say it first."
For a second he just stares, then he lets out this quiet, disbelieving laugh and suddenly his hands are everywhere, pulling you into him like he can't get close enough.
"You're serious?" he murmurs against your mouth.
"Unfortunately."
That earns a real laugh from him. "You fuckin' brat."
His forehead rests against yours, eyes closed for a moment. Outside, rain continues streaking down the windows of the Porsche.
Leon kisses you again, slower this time, smiling against your lips like he finally let himself have something he'd already convinced himself he couldn't keep, or maybe didn't deserve.
Suggestion: puppy themed pet play with the adorable rookie!Leon
Thank you for your time.
【⠀new ִ ࣪𝑠ᴀvᴇ 𝑓ɪʟᴇ ׅ🎮 】 hello dear bunny reader !! thank you for this request, and sorry it took so long, uni is almost over and well i had to lock tf in !! sorry if it sucks, im not that good at writing dom reader also i diverted a tiny bit from the og idea and instead of pet play i decided to do hybrid leon. hope you like it ♡
🇹🇦🇬🇸 : puppy hybrid leon, established relationship, dom reader, head f recieving, face riding, whiny leon with a praise kink ( i mean he is a dog so.. )
You sit at your computer, typing away at some boring report you told yourself you'd write and finish a week ago.
Behind you stands Leon, the dog hybrid you've been assigned to, despite your refusal, babysit. That was a few months ago, and it turned into something else completely. Leon imprinted on you, as your colleagues from the lab said, and ever since then, you've become his.. girlfriend? owner? You're not sure, really.
Leon nudges your shoulder with his head, a soft whine escaping his pouting lips in an attempt to make you pay attention to him.
"Don't be a brat, Leon." you smile, still looking at the glaring computer screen in front of you.
"It's just so boring.." Leon murmurs in a childish tone, putting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind the chair. He starts placing little kisses on your neck, and it's easy to tell that he won't let up soon.
"Then be patient." you sigh, turning to face him slightly. "Find something to do."
Leon groans. "But I don't wanna entertain myself, I want attention from you.. attention and affection! " He tightens his grip on your waist as he continues to kiss and gently bite at your throat. He looks up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, hoping you'll give in soon.
You huff "Leon." a bit firm "Be good."
He perks up instantly, his tail wagging behind him in sudden excitement. "Be good?" he repeats eagerly, nuzzling against your cheek
"What do I gotta do to be good?" his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
So he wants to play that game, huh?
"What do you think?"
Leon grins mischievously before getting down on his knees and sitting back on his heels. He looks up with his shiny and eager eyes as a small smirk plays across his lips. "You want me to beg?" he asks "You want me to be obedient, is that it?" His tail wags faster behind him.
"Wow, baby." Teasingly, you reply "You're soo smart. Smartest boy."
Leon's entire body tenses for a split second. His hands slide up your thighs with a feverish urgency before pausing just short of your clothed heat. "T-Then.. Please tell me what you want? Please?" he stammers breathlessly, pupils blown wide as they flicker between your face and his hand between your legs. "Do you want me to use my tongue? My fingers?" A shaky whine escapes him when his nose brushes over damp fabric of your panties, already proving how much control this is costing him not to dive in headfirst like an, well, animal.
"I said you're a smart boy." You shrug, eyes averting from him back to your report. "You know what to do."
"Anything you want, I'll do it." he promises fervently. He slowly starts to shift backwards a bit, moving his hands towards the waist of your panties.
"I'll do it so good, I swear.." he whispers, his voice swimming in desperation. He stares up at you, expression pleading as his fingers hook the waistband. "Can I take them off?"
You nod, looking down at him again, your palm patting him softly on the cheek. "Of course, pup."
Leon hums at your words, whole body shuddering as he practically rips your panties down in one frantic motion.
"Fuck, you're so—so pretty.." he groans against your bare thigh before diving in headfirst. His tongue drags slow and filthy from base to clit with zero hesitation. One hand grips your hip down while the other eases two fingers in just slightly, curling them shallowly.
You gasp, hands gripping at his fluffy hair. "S-Slow down, Leon." you let out a little laugh, your legs now pushed up on the armrests of the chair.
Leon freezes mid lick, ears flattening against his skull as he looks at you with wide eyes. "So—Sorry.." he stutters, voice muffled against your folds before reluctantly pulling back, leaving a glistening trail of spit in his wake.
He nuzzles apologetically along the inside of your thigh while his tail thumps anxiously against the floor. "Slow, yeah? Like this?" His tongue drags an agonizingly slow circle around your already sensitive clit.
"Leon.. You know what to do. Stop asking." you say again. He nuzzles against your inner thigh again, pressing a wet kiss to the soft flesh down to your knee. His chin glistens with spit. "Can you.. Sit on my face? Please?"
You blink a few times before you smile crooked and gesture him away. "Lay down on the floor. Now."
Leon wastes zero time doing exactly as he's told. He lays down on the floor, flat on his back with his head tilted towards you. He looks like he has never wanted anything more in the world than this.
Finally, he lets out a choked noise as your weight settles on his face, whole body tensing up for half a second before melting into pure bliss. His hands scramble to grip the back of your thighs, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he devours. Every muffled moan vibrates against your clit as you roll it over his tongue.
"You—You can touch yourself." You manage through breathless moans as your hips move in slow circles.
Leon's gaze is hazy as he struggles to focus on anything but the overwhelming throb between his legs. He's almost shaking as he reaches a trembling hand between them to wrap around his length, and the contact alone makes his brain nearly short circuit.
He squeezes around the base, choking back a whine. "Thank you— Mmph." he rasps, words slurring "Thank you.."
"Uh-uh, don't stop licking, did I say you could stop?" you tut, lightly slapping his chest.
Leon shakes his head, tongue immediately snapping back into action. His eyes go wide in an instant. "Sorry, sorry—" he stutters out the word "I just— I just got so close—"
"Shh, I know baby, just keep going, I want you to come in your hand, mkay?" You pat his head as you lean back, hands now on each side of his waist.
"Y-yeah—yeah, yeah, anything." Leon murmurs obediently. He picks his pace back up, his hips buck unconsciously as he continues to lick long stripes between your dripping folds.
"Keep y-your tongue out.." you huff.
Leon's mouth drops open without a second thought. His tongue sticks out eagerly and curls as it tries to meet every little one of your movements. "Is it good?" he mumbles, voice hoarse "Am I good, please— tell me I'm a good boy. Please."
"Yeah— such a good boy, baby.." your brows pull together as you close your eyes trying to focus.
"Then can I—I need—please let me—?" He's barely even coherent anymore. He looks already undone from your words alone.
"No." you say simply, hips grinding down on his lulled out tongue. "And stop stalking."
Leon chokes on a little sob, his entire body locking up in protest, but he nods frantically, hips stuttering as he forces himself to stop touching. His tail thumps weakly against the floor like a broken metronome.
"Y—Yes ma'am.." he rasps, tongue still out pathetically as his free hand grips lightly at his aching cock. He hums, immediately clamping his mouth shut though the way his tongue keeps lapping messily at you says he's still very busy. His eyes screw shut as he gives up on words entirely, focusing only on the sweet taste and feel of your pussy.
His hips jerk helplessly into nothing, precum smearing over his own stomach with every aborted thrust. The only sound left is wet slurps and shaky little gasps from him.
He looks wrecked, but he'd be happy just laying here for hours. As long as he could eat you out, as long as he's being a good boy, as long as you touch him even just once, he'd be content. He'd do anything just to hear you, taste you, feel you.
"Just a—ah.. A bit more, baby." you whine, changing how you sit, now back facing his face, hovering above slightly so you reach down to his pulsing cock "Let me help you.."
Leon cries the second your fingers wrap around him, his entire body convulsing like he's been electrocuted. His mouth falls open, drool mixing with your slick as his hips jerk up into your grip helplessly.
"Fuh— fuck, fuck, you're gonna kill me.." he babbles mindlessly against your folds before remembering to shut up again, tail thrashing so hard it's kicking dust off the floorboards beneath you two. Every slow stroke of yours has him seeing stars behind his clenched eyelids.
A little sound comes from your puffy lips, knees giving up as you sit down fully, grip on him hurrying cruelly as you feel yourself close to the edge "O-oh my god, Leon—"
"Please~" he whines "Please say I was a good boy. Please tell me I can come, I've been so good—"
"Shit— Hah, good boy, Leon, my good puppy." Finally, your body starts locking up, the heat in your belly unbearable as a hot wave washes over you whole, hands not giving out any second. "G-go, go ahead, baby— come." you instruct, pussy still clenching around nothing.
Leon howls a raw, animalistic sound torn from his throat as he spills all over himself in hot and messy stripes. His hips jerk violently into your fist as he comes.
The second the high passes he collapses bonelessly beneath you with a wet gasp, mouth agape. His ears are flattened against his skull in pure exhaustion.
You laugh sweetly, finally getting up on wobbly legs. "Lets go take a bath, pup, then we can sleep, okay? C'mon."
He staggers against you when he gets up, all but dead on his feet as he slurs out a groggy "mkay" and leans on you for support.
"Did good?" Leon finally speaks up again.
"Did great, baby." you reply, placing a soft peck on his blushed cheeks. "The best."
𑣲⋆ soldier boy who gives you a few 100 dollar bills bundled up in silk as soon as you get into his car whenever he is picking you up. you whisper yell at him "ben you're making me look like a damn hooker infront of my friends!" he hands them to you with a smug grin "isn't that what you initially are sugarpuss?" you furrow your eyebrows at him "christ, untwist your panties, they all know you're financially dependent on me, doll"
𑣲⋆ soldier boy who always has his weird way of comforting you whenever you are in a bad mood. his free hand massages your tense shoulder blade while the other one is on the wheel "you are so tense doll. rough day huh?" you huffed out and massaged your temples "it's been such a rough week, everyone was testing me, so help me god" he mocked your pout "awww it's okay baby, daddy is gonna fuck you silly at home till' you're gonna forget about your blues. maybe you should just give up college, you're too dumb for it sweetheart. you are meant to be a housewife"
𑣲⋆ soldier boy who makes you dance and walk around the room in lingerie while he watches. he always picks out the skimpiest lingerie and makes you walk around in tall heels so that you struggle. he even went so far as to buying a stripper pole in his mansion so that you can dance for him "feels real nice havin' my own private whore. you're doing so well baby" his tone drops "now get on your knees and start slobbering on my balls, bitch. daddy is goin' to pay you real good if you do a good job"
𑣲⋆soldier boy who takes you out in public whenever you get drunk. you cover your face and giggle every time you stumble. his hand is holding onto your waist tightly "look at you bein' such a messed up slut, depending on your old man"
HIIII!!! how r u :3 i love ur acc we’ve been moots a while this is me taking our relationship to the #nextlevel😛😛😛😛
oh my gosh-ness hi mootie !! i always stalk your reposts for new lads fics to read ( thank u ). thank you for being courageous and taking the first step, i actually and/or cliterally peed myself a lil when i saw your ask teehee
"you filthy, filthy girl.." he tuts, landing a harsh tap to your already red cheek, the skin on his palm sticking to the tears that kept falling from your glassy eyes. Ben, squeezing your snotty face with a firm grip, pulls you closer, his mouth right by your ear. "you like this, huh? you like when i fuck you like a bitch?"
you barely register what he just asked. another slap to your face shakes you and makes you more receptive and, well, conscious, if only for a few seconds, to babble out a weak 'yes, daddy.'
your breathing grows ragged as he fucks deeper into you, the little sobs you let out fueling him, making ben want to see how more you can actually take. "so fuckin' useless, kid. what would you do if it wasn't for daddy, hm? if i wasn't here to get your ass out of trouble.." ben sighs, holding your thighs open with one hand, the other pressed firmly on your lower belly. "makes me think y'hate me when you act like that. do ya? do you hate yer daddy?" he tilts his hips to perfectly hit that spongy spot, making you more overwhelmed, when you're already a crying, fucked out mess.
"n-no— please.. i don't, d-daddy, you know i don't.." you manage through little hiccups as a rough hand comes down on your tits. you arch your back from the pain.
"don't seem that way, doll. you get on my fuckin' nerves everyday, s'amazing how good you're at it." he laughs, all mocking, brows knitting together. "seems like i gotta remind you all the time where your place is."
ben grows restless, his cock slamming harder into you, and you swear you can feel it in your lungs. you blink away more tears as you shake your head in vain. "stop cryin' now. you know daddy hates it— i'm doin' this for you, baby. you gotta learn to stop misbehavin'."
but deep down you know, no matter how much of a good girl you are, he'll always find a reason to treat you like the cheapest whore. (not that you mind♡)
Make it where soldier boy or homelander fucks u real rough pounds u makes u cry and sob he slaps u he bruises u he degrades u alot hes real cruel and mean to u and calls u his sex doll😭 i may be asking for alot lol
I fucking love this. You literally live in my mind.
Warnings: nasty smut, everything that was mentioned in the request, dubcon, non con if you squint, choking, drooling, mentions of snot, hair pulling, reader passes out mid-sex, photographing without permission while unconscious
Ben being rough with you and treating you like a sex doll. He rips your clothes off, and rams into you with no prep whatsoever.
He fucks you so rough that you start crying, and he just can’t help but get on off it. “Aww, you gonna cry like a little girl cuz you can’t take dick, huh?” He pounds into you even harder and you yelp and choked out moans, cries and whimpers escape your throat.
You sniffle and sob, begging him to slow down and take mercy on you. “Ben— pl— please.. I— can’t— I can’t t—take it..” Your breath hitches and he wraps his thick rough palm around your throat. His free hand tightens on your hips so ever tight, it leaves dark colored bruises and marks.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You know you love my cock, take it like the fucking whore you are. You’re nothing but a slut to be used. Nothing but a sex doll.” He grunts. “My personal cum dump. Shut up, you filthy girl.”
But it’s a no go. It’s too much for you, and you continue nagging. “Ben— I’m- serious— I can’t—“ His hand squeezes even tighter around your throat, practically cutting off your airways. His other hand roughly connects with your cheek. Loud slap echoing through the room. A quiet choked out sob escapes you, more tears trailing down your cheeks. Messy crying, sniffles, snot forming around your nose.
“Yeah, I don’t care. Keep fucking crying whore. Keep whining, it’ll only make my dick harder.” He says roughly.
He finally removes his hand from your throat letting you breathe, but he fists it in your hair and harshly tugs. “Keep testing me, we’ll fuckin’ see what happens when you’re being a little bitch.”
Before it even ends, you quite literally pass out on him with his still dick inside of you, he speeds up his thrusts finally spilling inside your cunt.
He just stares at you after, looking at your tear streaked face with snot around your nose and drool running down your chin. Your body, full of bruises and scratches. And maybe he snaps a picture to jerk off to when you’re gone.
my brain is being infiltrated by the thought of stepdad!Jack taking reader on little “bonding days” but it’s just them going dates and fucking in the backseat— OMG WHO SAID THAT????
UHH THE WIND IS GETTING MIGHTY LOUD THESE DAYS.
warnings: stepdad!jack, perv!jack, fingering, semi public sex.
you both leave the house smiling, your mother waving with a “have fun you two!”
and before long he has you in his lap chest to chest, your little skirt hiked up as he’s thrusting his fingers up into you. your whines filling the car, melodic and sweet. having driven around to deserted parking lot under the guise of going to dinner on a “daddy daughter date” as jack put it. instead pulling you down into the backseat of his truck kissing you desperately between your giggles.
rough hands finding their way up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through the slick there with a “oh you’ve missed me honey…” voice low and teasing, his tone drips with condensation. his nose skims up your neck leaving pecks and bites there. you whine, feeling him smile, as he slips his fingers into you. the stretch makes your lips part in a long whimper, and jack is delighted, hearing your surprised gasp as your hands grip his shoulders nails digging into him through his jacket. “she sure has..” he hums at you hushed noises, pants heavy against the junction where his shoulder and neck meet as you rock onto his digits. he curls them and you lean into it hiccuping, the pads of his fingers stroking that special spot inside you. making your thighs twitch and legs tremble on either side of his spread legs.
he coos clicking his tongue, “sweet girl couldn’t wait to get me inside, i’ll give it to ya be patient for your old man…”
꒰ ✶ ꒱ … ❛ COWBOY ! LEON KENNEDY ❜ : a collection of head canons.
val’s notes ⟡ nsfw. minors do not interact. re2!leon kennedy x fem!reader. content warnings: fluff, smut, reader is a farm girl, semi-public sex (late night skinny dipping), pet names (my girl, baby, pretty girl), unprotected sex, and praise. word count: 1.5k notes: contemplating writing an actual fic for this au because cowboy. is this realistic? no. but let a girl dream. also, here’s the inspo: one. two. three. and here is the moodboard. — please like & reblog if you enjoyed !
cowboy!leon was hired as a ranch hand by your parents while you were away on a trip. your mom couldn’t say enough good things about him. insisting he was the most kind, dedicated, and handsome boys she’d ever seen. in passing, you knew your mother to be a rather sweet woman. but it wasn’t until you actually met him, between semesters one summer, that her words truly hit you. he addressed your parents with “yes ma’am” and “yes, sir.” but with you his tone, or maybe his inflection, softened. you noticed over the course of the first couple months back home, that leon reserved that tone for you and you only. you chalked it up to professionalism and him wanting to keep the rapport with his boss… aka, your father and mother.
cowboy!leon is up bright and early every morning to feed the horses, check the perimeter of the farm, and of course, is promptly sat on the front porch of your home with a cup of coffee. but not just for himself, one for you as well. he’d gotten quite good at making your coffee, often eyeing you as you’d take your first sip. your reactions always told him everything he needed to know. your face never lied and it was a trait he greatly appreciated. he’d always ask, “sleep well?” and smile softly behind his coffee mug. it made all kinds of thoughts cross your mind. but he was just being nice, right? you were growing increasingly unsure, as well as flustered.
cowboy!leon starts bringing you a flower while you're painting outside. it'd become a routine at this point. you'd set up your easel and paints and sit in the sun as you worked. he'd pop up when the sun was just starting to set, with a daisy or a poppy (sometimes both) and he'd put one behind your ear. humming to himself with approval as his hand dropped from your cheek. it was this that made you question everything. he wasn't just being nice to be nice. you were convinced that he was trying to flirt or court you. just the thought of him flirting made your stomach flip and your heart hammer. even as you cleared your throat, somehow thanking him without stammering; you questioned if it was obvious. your growing affection for him had plagued your mind. maybe it plagued him too.
cowboy!leon approaches your parents one day, insisting on a private conversation, to which you were promptly booted. you took that time to brush the horses in leon's stead. only for him to return when you've already finished, sitting amongst the grass and clovers as you searched for a four leaf. he sat down next to you, this time a rose in hand. clearly from the rose bushes your mother just planted near the front of the house. when you met his eyes, his face was flushed a delicate red and his free hand cupped the back of his neck. "looking awfully guilty," you joked. leon rolled his eyes with a soft laugh as he watched you take the rose from him. he reached for your hand that was in the grass and lifted it, kissing your knuckles. "i'm guilty of adoring you." he admitted. to which your face promptly grew hot and your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. "i want you," leon spoke quietly as his lips brushed your knuckles. "i want you to be my girl." without allowing yourself to second guess and overthink, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, lingering for a few moments before pulling away. you could hear him breathe in sharply as his body went rigid. but he soon relaxed, melting into your touch. you realized he must've asked your parents for their blessing.
cowboy!leon makes it his life’s to make sure you feel every ounce of his affection. with one or two flowers turning into a full bouquet and your morning coffee turning into a sweet kiss and his braiding your hair to keep it out of your face. he shows up in little ways, ways you hadn’t thought of before. ways you didn’t know you needed. but Leon knew, somehow, you wondered how. but you were always grateful. he was gentle with you, always making eye contact, then brushing his thumb against your lower lip before he leaned in to kiss you. he never pulled away first. he savoured it, the taste of you. he wondered how he got so lucky.
cowboy!leon lightly knocks on your bedroom door one night after dinner, peeking his head in with his cute smile. he invites you on a nighttime swim in the lake attached to your family's farm. it's the dead of july and the heat sticks to everything, even at night. so you agree, even if you're screaming in the back of your head. leon saddles himself on his horse and then helps you up. your thighs bracketing his own as your hands rest at the front of his waist. your fingers grazed the skin on his lower abdomen, where his tee shirt rode up just a bit. you could feel his body shiver and part of you wanted to push it. part of you wanted to dip your fingers lower, feeling every line and curve of his abs. but you restrain yourself. carefully, leon ties his horse to a nearby tree, holding your hand tentatively as the two of you walk down the pier of the small lake.
cowboy!leon you don’t let him get lost in his head. you slowly start to undress, completely ready to move forward. and he watches as you shed your clothing, fist tightening as his side as he stares. cock throbbing in his jeans as his eyes glazed over, dragging them over your body. every curve, every plush surface, and every single inch of you. he wanted it all. god he wanted it so badly. as your lowered yourself into the lake, he began making quick work of his own clothes and slipped into the lake shortly after you. leon couldn’t keep his eyes off you, so drawn to you that he felt pulled in. his arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand using the pier for stability. with your bodies pressed against one another, you could feel all of him. even as his cock began to harden, probably due to his mouth on yours and your tits pressed against his chest. your hands caressed his face as your lips slotted together, short breaths and shivers passing between the two of you. “so beautiful, baby,” he sighed against your lips.
cowboy!leon tangles his fingers in your hair as you kiss him with more urgency. he’s barely able to process you climbing up the pier, pulling him after you. he watches you lay back, beckoning him with your hands until he was caressing the underside of your thighs, his own spreading your legs wider. he couldn’t tear his eyes off you, with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. leon groaned as his cock throbbed painfully, the tip hanging inches from your slit. “touch me, leon.” you begged quietly; guiding one of his hands to your tits as your other hand pulled him down by the neck for a kiss. he was in heaven and he hoped this would be burnt into his memory long after it was over. he heard you whimper, his cock brushing against your throbbing clit. “f-fuck.” leon moaned as his cock sank into you. followed by a long and satisfied sigh that escaped your lips.
cowboy!leon is convinced your pussy was somehow made for him as your walls squeeze and ripple around his cock. leon starts slowly, hips pulling almost all the way out before slowly sinking back in till he’d bottom out. he couldn’t help the moans that fell from his mouth but it was yours that truly drove him crazy. all your muttering and whimpering, every “feels s’good leon.” your eyes were glassy and he felt his restraint drop. his hips started snapping, the sound echoing through the tree filled clearing. the way your walls tightened around him had him moaning, “pretty girl, fuck, pussy is squeezing me so tight.” his eyes don’t know where to look, your blissed out, cock drunk face or every bounce of your tits as he thrusted into you.
cowboy!leon spent so many days, weeks, even months watching after you and trying to find anyway to make you smile or look his way. he has a hard time fathoming the utter perfection that is your body pressed against his. leon thinks, maybe he was pussy drunk off you. he could barely hold it in, the urge to fuck you senseless and ruin you for any other man. and as the two of you unraveled together under moonlit skies, you kissed him like no one had ever kissed him before. deeply and with something dangerously close to love. he lowered his body, pulling yours as close to his as possible. heavy breathing together as you found your comedown. “you’re so perfect, pretty girl.”
꒰ ✶ ꒱ … ❛ AVALON'S NOTES ❜ : not enough cowboy leon crosses my dash. so i have taken things into my own hands and i am not even the tiniest bit sorry. i am unhinged. anyways, hope you enjoy! lemme know if you wanna see more cowboy!kennedy bc i am more than willing to delve deeper.
⸝ ⸝ ⠀i do not consent to any of my work being translated or reposted on any platform. do not feed any of my work into ai software.
