okay but like imagine a bully leon that's actually so subby when things get real…. like idk what it is but there's really something about guys that look kinda dom on the outside actually being really submissive on the inside…
Imagine some kind of high school or even better, college AU where Leon's kind of an asshole to you first semester, and then you scheme with your friends to get revenge … just not the way he expected or smth, maybe at some cliche party you end up one on one with him and after some kind of heated confrontation you make your move, and even though his bully side tries to resist, his subby side pops out and he eventually gets reduced to a begging, sobbing mess. And you just mistreat him so well, he gets all clingy and pathetic by the end of it, all whiny, and you're almost rough with him, getting him so needy and then forcing him to apologize so much and beg, and acknowledge idk something like he was wrong, you're the best, etc, he needs you
I think this would work maybe with RE2 Leon the best, but RE4 leon possibly? There's really just something about RE2 leon being subby and RE2 leon being a really bratty bully type
But yeah smth like brat taming with leon or something!! Maybe even spanking if he was that much of an asshole lmaoooo
(sorry if this sent twice i was having issues with tumblr)
this is a wonderful concept and all but be so for real my guy leon could not be a bully. especially re2 and re4. he’s too sweet and gentle to ada in re2 and ashley in re4 to ever truly bully someone.
buuuuuuuuut since u already got this idea so flushed out i might as well add to it!! sorry this isn’t as long as i’d like to to be i couldn’t really think of anything else to add!!
sub!bully!leon x slight mean dom!reader, no pronouns used, afab body parts mentioned.
leon likes your attention and feels like the only way he can get it is to be mean. the first time you both met, you didn’t realize he was trying to talk to you and just walked past him (with like earbuds in and stuff) and he was so heartbroken.
so every time he sees you in class he’ll be rude and abrasive, calling you insulting nicknames and stuff. he kinda likes the face you make when you get mad, the way your eyebrows furrow and your eyes stare sharply at him.
he’s also kinda mean to your friends because to him they’re an extension of you.
at this party, he’s been drinking, not too much because he’s cautious but enough to where he’s not completely sober. you as well.
you both start arguing when he bumps into you and knocks your drink out of your hand. he says a lot of cruel things that make your heart ache slightly. he’s so needlessly mean that you’re getting fed up with taking his shit.
you take a step closer to him, finally willing to do more than stand your ground, but actually fight back, “do you just want me to hate you that damn bad, leon? because you really seem to enjoy pissing me off.”
his body feels weak at your cold tone of voice. he’s suddenly not the evil, monstrous man that made fun of you, embarrassed you, called you names, talked down to you. he tries to keep up his front, but you see it cracking.
“i know you like it,” he says, “like it when i’m mean to you, don’t you? you want me to call you names and make fun of you, kinky bitch.”
you scoff, looking away from him. he couldn’t be more wrong.
“what? you think i’m wrong? prove it to me, prove that you don’t like me like this. show me that you’re worth anything more than being the dirt beneath my—”
“shut the fuck up, leon,” you groan as you come closer to him. it’s what he was afraid of, and god you’re so close to him… he’s worried he might explode from nerves. your hand presses against his chest as you push him away, and then suddenly, you’re up against him, he’s pressed against the wall, and your hand is back on his chest.
“uh, i.. i—” he says.
“what’s wrong? lost the ability to speak?” you ask him rhetorically, smirking, “you did get something right, i am a kinky bitch. just the wrong kind.”
“what?” he asks breathlessly. he looks like he’s about to pass out, face red, hands shaking. you would want to soothe him if he wasn’t such an asshole, “wrong kind?”
your hand on his chest drops to his crotch, groping him over his jeans, and he fucking whimpers. already. you come to the realization that leon kennedy, the bastard who’s been torturing you for months on end, is a fucking sub. good god.
“wait wait wait… hold on… i- what are you doing?”
your smirk grows, your breaths and sighs are satisfied, contented with holding him here, watching him stutter and whimper, “awh, i will admit. you’re much cuter when you’re not using that mouth to be rude. much, much prettier…”
his face is already red, his ears too. he looks messy, fragile, adorable.
“p-please,” his voice breaks, and you know you’ve won.
—
“stupid, stupid boy, thinks he can be mean to me? messed with the wrong girl,” you say, patronizingly soothing as you run your fingers through his hair, his cock buried inside of you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, “you should say sorry, baby, for what you did to me.”
“fuck, i- i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry about what i said to you a- and your friends! i’m sorry!”
you scoff, “no, you know that’s not good enough, try harder. tell me how pathetic and dumb you are.”
he whines, his lips pressing against your neck sweetly as an apology, and as a way out of giving you a real one. he grasps onto your body like you’re his only anchor to stability and sanity.
you try to coax him out of his shyness and get him to tell you all the things you want him to say, “c’mon sweetheart, you gotta tell me. tell me how mean and degrading and cruel you were to me, just to be my stupid, obedient boy after i flipped it on you. the second i was a little mean to you, you completely gave in to me, didn’t you?”
“y-yeah, i… i’m sorry, i know i haven’t been- ah, good for you, but please let me be. give me a chance to be good, please. i can be good.”
you just laugh, clearly annoyed with him, “stupid fucking thing, thinks he can make me forgive him by begging to give him the grace he never gave me. you will have to earn your forgiveness, baby.”
he whines, “can i please fuck you? please? i’ll show you how good i can be, how good i can make you feel, i’ll so whatever you say i promise!!!”
“no, sweetheart, you’re going to sit still. you’re going to cry and weep and sob about how sorry you are, about how much better i am than you, how you don’t deserve me or my pussy, and how badly you need me to treat you like you’re nothing.”
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Fuck the Trauma Bond
A Lucas and the Party version of this
…
Lucas was bouncing the ball on the pavement of the basketball court at the playground. It was surrounded by high chain-link fences and the hoops on either end were worn and rusted and the pavement itself was cracked worse than the Upside Down ground.
He had never looked happier.
Dustin and Will looked on from where they sat at the top of the slide on the playground. Lucas was tossing the ball around with a couple of other kids from school that neither of them knew.
But Lucas knew them, and that was all that mattered, apparently.
Max, El and Mike were a little farther back from Lucas, past the lame excuse of a basketball court and in the street, where Max was showing Mike how to skateboard while El loitered and watched.
It was absolutely sweltering. Ranging from 92 degrees to the Devils fucking asscrack, in Dustin totally correct opinion.
He was bored out of his mind but didn’t mind watching Lucas bounce the ball. He looked happier bouncing an orange sphere than he did playing DnD, which unsettled Dustin in a way that made him lightheaded.
“Hey, Will.”
Will hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his sketchpad.
“Does Lucas look happier?”
Will looked at Dustin with a raised eyebrow before focusing in on Lucas.
“Huh. I mean sure.” He shrugged. “But it’s cause it’s basketball. Lucas really likes basketball. And if he really likes it then why not be happy while doing it?”
Dustin flipped the thought a few times in his head.
It wasn’t that he was mad about Lucas playing basketball. He got over that a while ago after Lucas and Mike had a full-blown argument/mental breakdown that included Mike’s abandonment issues and Lucas’ FOMO (fear of missing out).
But Dustin also wasn’t outright vocally supportive. He didn’t go to the games, he didn’t hang around for Lucas’ practices. He would (probably), but even after Eddie’s name was cleared and he was painted a hero but the government goons, Mike and himself were still targeted heavily in school alongside the rest of Hellfire.
“I don’t really see the appeal, I guess.” He told Will, instead of voicing his inner thoughts.
Will shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s Lucas’ interest. But simply showing you’re willing to listen to him about said interest can go a lot farther than you’d think.”
“Are you saying I don’t listen to him?”
“I’m saying you guys dismiss him.”
“Dismiss him?” Dustin watched Lucas more intently.
Will hummed. “Literally yesterday. He was talking about his encounter with Steve and how they’d made a really cool new play and you guys all so obviously tuned him out that when he stopped you guys just kept nodding because you hadn’t noticed.”
Huh.
That was really shitty.
“Did we really?”
“Yep.”
“Damn.”
“Damn indeed, Dusty-buns.”
Mike, Max and El joined them a couple minutes later.
“What’re you nerds talking about?” Max asked, sitting at the bottom of the slide with El while Mike climbed up to sit behind the boys and lean on Will’s back.
“How we’re apparently really shitty friends,” answered Dustin with his chin in his hand. He was still watching Lucas. One of the guys playing— a curly blond kid a head shorter than Lucas— pulled him into a weird hug thing where they slapped each other’s backs and immediately went back to playing.
“What?” asked Mike, muffled from where his head was shoved into Will’s shoulder.
“Lucas likes basketball.” Dustin confirmed.
Mike and Max looked at him.
“Yeah? We know that, Henderson.” Max snarked.
“And we know nothing about anything including him and basketball.”
They both seemed to pause.
“What do you mean?”
“Will says we’ve been dismissing him every time he brings it up.”
They both looked at Will, Mike peeling himself off of his back to do so.
Will shrugged and harshly erased something on his paper. “You do.”
“Which is why it’s stopping now.” Declared Dustin.
Mike blinked at him owlishly. “Um, dude? We can’t really go to him games or practices. You know we’ll both get mauled,” he muttered quietly.
The other three looked between Mike and Dustin.
“You’re both having problems still?” Will asked, looking stricken.
“I thought Jason dying would mean they’d fuck off.” Muttered Max.
Mike scoffed. “Just cause Carver’s dead doesn’t mean shit. They still think Eddie’s the Devil and that we’re his fucking worshipers or whatever. They chased me all the way to the back of the school on Wednesday.”
Will winced and Max glowered. Dustin felt the slide shake a little.
“El, relax. It’s not that bad.” Dustin watched El’s gaze soften slightly and the slide stopped rumbling. She looked at him sadly. They’d all heard about the bullying in Cali at some point. Dustin smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.
He turned back to address the whole group.
“Sure we can’t go to every game, but maybe we can get Steve to go with us to some. You guys know he wouldn’t let anything happen. And besides— Steve likes sports to.”
That struck a thought in his mind: how many times had he dismissed Steve?
He pushed it back for now.
“And even without going to games—“ he pressed on, “—we can still try and listen to him more.”
Mike and Max nodded slowly. Dustin takes it they hadn’t realized they hadn’t been listening before.
“And speaking of,” Will said, placing his sketch pad and pencils into his bag. “Here comes the man of the hour.”
Sure enough, Lucas was walking backward to them while waving to the guys who were leaving the park altogether. They were all waving back and laughing.
“Hey, guys!” Lucas jogged up to the slide.
“Hey, stalker,” Max greeted cheekily when Lucas bent to give her a kiss.
“Hi, Lucas!” El cheerily added. “Did you have fun?”
Lucas smiled. “Yeah! Daniel— the dude who was wearing the red hoodie like a damn maniac— was stupid fast and really cool! He showed me how he pushes off his feet for speed and when I—… never mind.” He tried for a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Dustin frowned.
“Why’d you stop? Keep going, dimwit. When you what?” Mike prompted.
Dustin snickered when Will slapped his arm lightly.
Lucas looked stricken for a split second before his face broke out in a grin.
“Well—“
And the rest is history.
.
Bonus:
When the first game came up, only 3 months later, Steve took the whole Party— older teens included.
They took Eddie’s van, the kids piled in the back while the teens took the actual seats.
When they got to school it was hectic chaos of Steve taking a headcount and leading everyone in. They struggled to find seats where their whole group would fit and in the end they sat on the bottom line of the bleachers with half of the them on the floor.
It was actually fun, much to Dustin’s and Mike’s surprise. Even if the looks shot at them and Eddie from some of the players were downright hostile.
Steve went with them every time they got up to do anything. No one left without someone else there— so Mike wasn’t alone when Adrian Gonzales tried to corner him by the concessions. And Dustin wasn’t in as much trouble when Treyton Klink pulled him by the shirt into the bathrooms.
So yeah— it wasn’t the best. But that was ok, because the hug Lucas gave them afterwards was worth it. Dustin would go through hell (again) to get another hug like that.
Mike looked about ready to agree with the flush that now littered his face and shoulders.
Will laughed at him and poked fun at him about the blush the entire ride home. Max and Lucas himself eventually played in with it as well, only worsening the blush and making the teasing better.
Lucas was over the moon for the rest of the night.
They slept over at Casa Harrington (as the Party so lovingly called it), piling blankets and pillows and dragged mattresses and discarded cushions on the living room floor while Lucas went on and on and on with Steve for what felt like forever.
Dustin wouldn’t have it any other way.
Especially with the matching smiles on their faces.
Dustin’s never seen them so happy, and he caught Eddie staring at Steve the same way Max was staring at Lucas, so Dustin figured he agreed.
He’d endured literal hell for his friends; what’s so wrong about one interest?
Dustin’s dreams were filled with buzzers and cheering and scoreboards. But that was a problem to complain about tomorrow.
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