doing my bimonthly tumblr check and the notes on this HELLO???? Yâall r down bad!!!!
i just think that leon could be railing tf you, like rearranging your guts and making you cryâŚâŚ... all while holding your hand and stroking your hair n stuff :(( yeah
A hot tear rolls down your cheek. Youâve never had him like this before. This hard. This rough. Leon has always been careful with you, but tonight, you asked him not to be. Looked up at him through your lashes and asked him to ruin you, as youâd put it.
And well, youâre getting what you asked for.
âYou okay, pretty?â He says, gripping your hips hard as he pushes into you, hips landing flush against your ass. Itâs a rhetorical question; he knows youâre enjoying this. He only made you repeat the safe word close to a dozen times before pinning you onto the bed and having his way with you. âThis what you wanted?â
Your hands clutch onto the bedsheets for life, head impossibly hazy from how Leon has utterly abused your cunt for the past thirty minutes. Swiping over your clit with his thumb and pulling away when your thighs start to shake. Rutting into you hard and fast, but never keeping up the pace enough for you to climax.
Itâs pain and itâs torture, but fuck it feels good.
He wraps a hand around one of your thighs, pushing it over his shoulder, eliciting a broken whine from you. Heâs buried deeper inside you now, somehow. Stuffed like youâve never known.
âN-Need to cum, Leon,â You look up at him, glossy eyed and pouting. âPlease.â
âYouâll get to cum,â He grunts simply, lifting a hand to push some hair away from your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your temple. âYouâreâ fuck. Youâre gorgeous like this.â
Truthfully, Leon wasnât totally convinced by the idea. Fucking you until you cried, until you begged. But youâre clenching tightly around him, making the most wonderful sounds⌠youâre ruined. Ruined beautifully by the pleasure only he can grant you.
His free hand moves so heâs thumbing at your clit again, and you cry out at the pleasure shooting through your core. One of your hands moves from the sheets to clutch at his shoulder, but Leon is quick to envelop it in his own, lacing his fingers with yours and pushing your hand back against the pillow. Youâre sure youâre squeezing it uncomfortably tight, but if you are, Leon doesnât mention it.
And fuck, youâre crying again. Youâre overwhelmed and overstimulated but somehow none of it is enough, your orgasm impending yet too far away with the game Leon seems to be playing.
This is what you wanted, after all. And well, youâre not complaining.
Upon seeing your cheeks wet and your eyes wide and blinking away tears, Leon leans down, never slowing his torturous ruts into your cunt as he presses his lips to the salty liquid on your skin.
âYouâre taking thisâ mm, so wellâŚâ He utters against your cheek, hissing as you tighten around him. âSo pretty getting fucked like this.â
His lips are soft and comforting, along with the hand thatâs squeezing yours in reassurance.
When your eyes meet his, theyâre heavy and dark. Plagued with desire and a thirst for your pleasure.
You donât think this is the last time youâll have Leon like this. Itâs a thrilling thought.
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i just think that leon could be railing tf you, like rearranging your guts and making you cryâŚâŚ... all while holding your hand and stroking your hair n stuff :(( yeah
A hot tear rolls down your cheek. Youâve never had him like this before. This hard. This rough. Leon has always been careful with you, but tonight, you asked him not to be. Looked up at him through your lashes and asked him to ruin you, as youâd put it.
And well, youâre getting what you asked for.
âYou okay, pretty?â He says, gripping your hips hard as he pushes into you, hips landing flush against your ass. Itâs a rhetorical question; he knows youâre enjoying this. He only made you repeat the safe word close to a dozen times before pinning you onto the bed and having his way with you. âThis what you wanted?â
Your hands clutch onto the bedsheets for life, head impossibly hazy from how Leon has utterly abused your cunt for the past thirty minutes. Swiping over your clit with his thumb and pulling away when your thighs start to shake. Rutting into you hard and fast, but never keeping up the pace enough for you to climax.
Itâs pain and itâs torture, but fuck it feels good.
He wraps a hand around one of your thighs, pushing it over his shoulder, eliciting a broken whine from you. Heâs buried deeper inside you now, somehow. Stuffed like youâve never known.
âN-Need to cum, Leon,â You look up at him, glossy eyed and pouting. âPlease.â
âYouâll get to cum,â He grunts simply, lifting a hand to push some hair away from your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your temple. âYouâreâ fuck. Youâre gorgeous like this.â
Truthfully, Leon wasnât totally convinced by the idea. Fucking you until you cried, until you begged. But youâre clenching tightly around him, making the most wonderful sounds⌠youâre ruined. Ruined beautifully by the pleasure only he can grant you.
His free hand moves so heâs thumbing at your clit again, and you cry out at the pleasure shooting through your core. One of your hands moves from the sheets to clutch at his shoulder, but Leon is quick to envelop it in his own, lacing his fingers with yours and pushing your hand back against the pillow. Youâre sure youâre squeezing it uncomfortably tight, but if you are, Leon doesnât mention it.
And fuck, youâre crying again. Youâre overwhelmed and overstimulated but somehow none of it is enough, your orgasm impending yet too far away with the game Leon seems to be playing.
This is what you wanted, after all. And well, youâre not complaining.
Upon seeing your cheeks wet and your eyes wide and blinking away tears, Leon leans down, never slowing his torturous ruts into your cunt as he presses his lips to the salty liquid on your skin.
âYouâre taking thisâ mm, so wellâŚâ He utters against your cheek, hissing as you tighten around him. âSo pretty getting fucked like this.â
His lips are soft and comforting, along with the hand thatâs squeezing yours in reassurance.
When your eyes meet his, theyâre heavy and dark. Plagued with desire and a thirst for your pleasure.
You donât think this is the last time youâll have Leon like this. Itâs a thrilling thought.
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for smut week... leon pov. (re4r leon mayhaps). just wanna know what could possibly be going on in his mind during the deed, or if it's even functioning at all (either way, i know it would be an absolute treat to read as always); y'know, when he's praised, teased, edged, choked, etc. could he still be fucked to tears i wonder. maybe reader could also make that a challenge; to render him to tears, unable to even think or talk. just wanna know how this would all unfold and look like in his head
this is a mess and i'm sorry but i love ur writing sm!!! ur an absolute treasureâ¤ď¸
oh bestie.. bestie bestie bless u for this.. i combined like three other requests to make this masterpiece so we get a lil bit of everything in here.. i wanted to make this longer so fuvkin BAD too
also included: spit kink, thigh marking, teasing, dumbification, bindings
18+ only
Youâve tied him to a chair just like he asked, ankles to each leg, hands behind his back, and the world starts to color at the edges, sharpen into focus. When he arrived home from Spain, everything melted into muted grey tones. Itâs always like thisâcoming back from missions, the reintegration to normalcy, the transition from survival mode to⌠not. Something his brainâs always struggled with.Â
You help. Know exactly what he needs, how far to go, his thoughts before he even says them. Youâre glad to take control, to give him a break from the decision-making and the life-saving and the trauma that accompanies the weight of those things. He shuts everything off, everything out. He can when heâs with you.
âYou remember the word, right?â
âFlashlight.â A beacon on his tongue, a saving grace, a white flag. He says it, everything stops. He finds comfort in that⌠how different from the world outside this room.
âGood boy.â His scalp tingles beneath your fingers and he exhales a pleasured sigh, gazes upon your face as if you guard the gates of heaven.Â
Maybe if you say it enough, heâll believe it.
You tug his head back, slot a knee between his spread thighs. Say, âOpen,â and his jaw slackens on instinct. You spit on his tongue, spread it out with a thumb. âSuck.â
He obeys. Would do whatever you asked, because youâre so good to him and you actually care and he loves you.Â
When you kiss him, his cock twitches against his thigh, smears precum over the skin.
He wants you already. He always does. You look at him like he controls gravity, like he crafted the stars, devout in your worship. Heâs loved and safe and welcome hereâall of him, the good and the bad, and no matter how many times you bloody your fingers on his jagged edges, you come back.
You come back.Â
âSo beautiful,â you say, fit your lips against his, trail a soft hand down the front of his neck. He shudders and you squeeze, a budding pressure that leaves him groaning into your mouth.
You control this place. Control him. Rend him down to each individual atom, make him forget, make him feel worthy again. Nothing matters beneath youâhis past, his mistakes, his failures. You donât care, still love him regardless, and because of that, he doesnât either.
You drop to your knees, naked below the waist, and lave his thighs with attention. With licks, kisses, the sharp suckle of your mouth, the bite of grazing teeth. You inch closer to his cock, curved up toward his belly, and he braces himself. If he moves, youâll pull away. Has to take what you give himânothing more.
And you pull away. Admire the bruises and bite marks and spit-shiny skin with a smile, the soothing of your palms. âI like you best like this.â He does, too. Marked up by you, places hidden and sensitive. âBut I still think we can do better.â He knows what you mean, swallows thick, a nervous anticipation crawling inside his chest. âHow much more can you take, sweetheart?â
He finds his voice, says, âIâll take whatever you give me.â
Your eyes soften, and heâs unsure how he ever lived without you. Canât believe someone like you could care for a fuck-up like him.
You take him into your mouth, all molten heat and a curling tongue and fuck. Fuck. If he watches, heâll cum, but you want him to. Donât even have to say it. Your eyes speak for themselves, mesmerizing, beautiful, donât look away.Â
He knows this wonât lastâyouâll leave him just before he peaks, remind him of the reward for patience. Fruitâs better when it ripens.Â
You bob your head in rhythm, drool down his length, swallow him to the root. He tries to stay still, to be good for you, he does, but your mouth is wet and hot and velvety, and he wants all of it. All of you, everything you offer.Â
He cants his hips and you gag around him then pull away, a string of spit the only thing connecting your bodies, and he fights against the bindings around his wrists because no, Iâm sorry, Iâll be good, I didnât mean it.Â
You rise to your feet, rake your gaze over his body, tilt your head to the side. âYouâre still thinking, arenât you?â
You determined the goal before this even began: fuck him silly, fuck him stupid, make his brain unusable.Â
âYeah.â
âA more direct approach then.â
You straddle him then sink down on his cock, all tight and slick and impossibly hot. Clenching muscle, liquid velvet, and his brain scrambles a bit. His vision blurs at the edges.
âIâm gonna fuck you now,â you say, curl a fist in his hair, tug his head back, kiss and suckle and bite along the pulse of his neck. âYou wanna be ruined, donât you?â
When you lift your hips, fuck him slow, swallow up his cock, it takes everything in him to verbalize an answer. âYes.â
You curl a hand around his throat, press in with your fingers, and he chokes out a moan. âOh, I know you do, and I wonât stop until you forget your own name. Would you like that?â
Heâs never craved anything more in his entire life. That state of peace only you can subject him to, a never-ending well of nothingness. Nothing but white-hot pleasure and him and you.
âPlease.â
You fuck him within an inch of his life then stop just before he crests. Coax his mouth open, lick over his tongue, and the kiss is wet and messy and your hand tightens around his throat and he whimpers.Â
âWeâre making progress,â you say. Wipe the spit from his chin. Press a tender kiss to his cheek. âStill want more?â
Always. Always when itâs you. Could never have enough, never take enough, never give enough.Â
âPlease.â
Your hips rise again.Â
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