𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢

𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 & 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚂. 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚌𝚘𝚖'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙴𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. ⌖𖦏 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 & 𝙰𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙻𝚢𝚗𝚡. ⌖𖦏

𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 . 𝙿𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 . 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚅. 𝚁𝙴𝟿 . Original template/PSD by @cavalierfou

The idea that we can’t just write is bogus. There always has to be some sort of discourse about what you can and cannot do. Who you can and cannot write with. What is acceptable. Last time I checked we had freedom of speech. Last time I checked, REAL LIFE could be depicted in writing. I’m not out here trying to water down things for those of you who need a fuzzy blanket to hide under. ESPECIALLY, when the content for which I write is not illegal or horrible. It’s seriously just REAL. But like be shitty about it I guess?

If you’d like to drop threads just let me know. I’m going to go back to being on discord more & writing there. If you’re interested just message me.

Also, I was thinking — it’s not a ship I usually write but like I’m also for it so like….

ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM SETTINGS PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.

He has her on his shoulders, her tiny hands in his hair until they're aiming for his thick neck. He doesn't mind, he doesn't even notice the slight stickiness from the cotton candy he's allowed her to devour. She's perched on him like an angel atop a Christmas tree. Bright and beaming, a splendor to behold. New, even.

She's so new right now as she experiences this moment, this night that some might take for granted. It's simple really, attending a summer carnival, but for Emily it holds weight; for the little girl it's spectacular. Even if the lights are a little too bright and the sounds have caught her wincing more than once, everything has been followed up with a giggle or a moment of awe. Leon is proud to be part of this with her, he's got his own excitement for the evening.

" Of course, " he breathes softly, allowing her hands to move his own until he's gripping the fabric of her sweater.

He doesn't hesitate and it doesn't take much focus, but he treats the act like a ritual. His eyes never leave hers as he tugs upward, removing the material until it's a scrunched ball of green wool. The garment is then pitched into oblivion, landing somewhere in the expanse of her gigantic bedroom. Home from college and the perks of having the president for a father. She's a princess at home and Leon desired to keep her on that thrown.

" You're so fucking perfect, " he can't stop the words before they're babbling out like a brook. Her large breasts exposed and braless, heavy and soft. Pink nipples hardening as if at his gaze alone, summoning him to keep going.

They're sitting upward slightly, and he takes the opportunity to touch, to get accustomed to her frame so that he can please her the way she likes; the way she deserves. Rough hands cup her on either side of her breasts, thumbs sliding inward, gliding over hardened, rosy peaks. They're stiff and he groans audibly, his manhood thickening against the tightening material of his cargo pants. She's gorgeous and he's so lucky that she wants him. He doesn't deserve her but fuck it, he's going to take, selfishly he needs her more than wants at this point. He thinks the air will cast from his lungs if he doesn't claim her soon.

Good afternoon!

I don't know how much gas I have in the tank today. Yesterday was a rough physical health day and I'm just starting to feel a little better. Brain fog is still kicking my ass and making me dizzy. I, as always, appreciate the patience.

To: Leon S. Kennedy

From: Tallahassee

Subject: Twinkie Recovery and Preservation of Human Civilization

⸻

Leon,

Normally I wouldn’t be writing a government-looking document. That’s your thing. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Word is there’s still a box of Twinkies somewhere in the ruins of Raccoon City. Specifically, an old gas station or market that somehow survived the apocalypse, corporate greed, and whatever mutant nonsense your city was dealing with.

I need that box.

You need a mission.

Seems like fate.

Your objectives are as follows:

• Go into Raccoon City.

• Find the Twinkies.

• Bring them back.

• Try not to get eaten.

Secondary objectives:

• Shoot anything that hisses.

• Shoot anything with too many teeth.

• Shoot anything that used to be a person but now looks like a science experiment.

Potential Threats:

• Zombies.

• Zombie dogs.

• Giant mutant creatures.

• Government cover-ups.

• Ada Wong.

Especially Ada Wong.

If Ada Wong is spotted near the objective, assume she is after the Twinkies.

I don’t know why she’d want them.

I don’t care why she’d want them.

All I know is if she starts doing that mysterious spy thing where she smirks and disappears, you’re about five minutes away from losing my snack cakes.

Rules of Engagement:

1. Secure the Twinkies.

2. Keep the Twinkies.

3. Do not give the Twinkies to Ada Wong.

Yes, that required three separate rules.

Compensation:

Upon successful completion of the mission, you will receive:

• One bottle of whiskey.

• One fully operational cowboy hat.

• Lifetime honorary membership in the “People Who Found Twinkies After the End of the World” club.

Current membership: one.

Failure Conditions:

• Death.

• Mutation.

• Twinkie loss.

• Falling for Ada Wong’s nonsense.

Again.

⸻

Signed,

Tallahassee

“Time to nut up or shut up.”

P.S. If Ada already has the Twinkies, I authorize you to use every government resource at your disposal to get them back.

P.P.S. Actually, on second thought, she’ll probably outsmart you. Just ask nicely and see what happens.

" Man, I'm stone cold sober but reading this makes me feel like I just relapsed.....did we drink tequila out of your boot again in a truck stop parking lot? Fuck, that feels like ages ago. Didn't think we'd be there again but here we are.

25 spicy prompts - remember to stay hydrated. 😈

Violent and near shaking; that was the orgasmic high and post comedown that currently filled the lead singer's body. She felt incredible. Every night for the past 3 weeks they'd ended up this way, unable to separate, not wanting to be apart from the other.

They'd been home from tour for several days, spending most of their time in his bed. Then there of course was the black, leather sofa in the den, the granite countertops in his kitchen and the hardwood of his flooring. Porcelain bathtub held their connected bodies twice last week, followed by the all-glass shower and the in-ground pool in the expansive backyard. Perks of living in California these days, it was warm weather most of the year.

Tonight however they were tangled in one another, wrapped in silken black sheets that adorned his king-sized bed. His arms held her close as he remained snuggly inside her spasming core. The aftershocks still ever present and he couldn't help but smirk. The way he owned her body and she did his, it was unbelievable and oh so satisfying. A comfort they both had needed for a long time and now here they were, having found each other; a match made in heaven. Leon was always one to honor all that he'd been given and that included his new dark-headed temptress.

25 spicy prompts - remember to stay hydrated. 😈

Leon couldn't remember if he'd been this aroused prior to Grace Ashcroft. His brain aimed to span to a time until he unlocked memories of his sexploits, but none seemed to hold a candle to the way she'd made him feel. His cock throbbed, straining against his DSO issued cargos and he knew without a doubt she could feel his desire.

Light eyes penetrated her own ocean spheres, and he swore he'd give her something to think about after he'd gone home. He wanted to imagine her fingers shoved deep inside her cunt, trying to fill the void in his absence. Greedy and wet, slick leaking down her thighs as she panted his name. Never quite able to stretch her inner walls the way he could, the way he was made to do. The imagine alone made him feral, his much larger frame slamming her harder than intended against the wall in her compact apartment. The cabinets seemed to rattle from the sheer force of his intentions, his calloused hands running the length of her torso before reaching for her hands and pinning them swiftly above her head.

It was an arrest of sorts, her wrists pinned together, his large hand holding them plastered to the wall at her back. The squeezing leaving marks already against her pale flesh. God she was so delicate and smooth. So eager as he felt her practically vibrating against his frame.

" What smutty little book of yours did you pull that line out of ? " he smirked, " spread your legs. " The command came from low in his throat, as he slid his thigh against her core. Popping the muscle slightly, aiming to apply pressure to her sensitive center.

25 spicy prompts - remember to stay hydrated. 😈

How had they gotten here ? Completely unprofessional and selfish on his part. It felt like taking advantage of someone in a state of trauma. A state of panic even, but they'd known one another a long time. Even if he hand't remembered, even if he tried to block everything from this God forsaken place out of his head.

The death. The violence. The crimes that had been committed on those to innocent to defend themselves. It made him sick to his stomach to think of all that was lost here and for what ? To protect those in power. Power ? In a place like this, it was a joke. Yet, here he was investigating a town he'd long since bleached from his mind. The memories that had kept him up at night, that had led him to the bottle more times than he'd like to admit. Now stone cold sober in the moonlight he took and he took, something he'd denied himself for a long time. Connection and intimacy with another.

His hand around her throat but not for long as it reached up to her chin turning her neck to the side so that he could kiss the slope downward. His mouth moved with a heated fury, as if he was angry at her, as if he was furious for her even asking. The truth was that he wanted this, more than he cared to admit. She was beautiful and she felt like a home he'd never had. Something familiar about her in a true comforting way and not the false sense of safety that his own childhood had created.