âź synopsis: you thought âphilosophy: yesterday and todayâ was a useless gen-ed requirement you could coast through. after completely bombing the exam, your professor decides to prove just how wrong you are, determined to show you firsthand exactly how persuasive a philosopherâs rhetoric can truly beâŠ
âź warnings: female reader, professor/student relations, porn with plot, slow-burn, sexual/explicit content, dub-con/coercion, slight humiliation kink, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected penetration, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie, semi-rough sex, lil fluff at the end
âź word count: 10.6k (pls it's worth it)
being a college student was not for the weak of heart. endless exams, midnight study sessions that often turned into all-nighters, and not to mention, the cost. you've had your share of failures throughout the semesterâ being late to class after struggling to find parking, failing an exam you already knew you were going to fail, missing the deadline of an already closed submission portal for a stupid discussion board you could care less about... the list goes on.
and as if you didn't already have enough problems, another one slams straight down on front your desk, a huge 'F' plastered in red marker gracing the white exam paper, tainting the surface with its cruelty. you suck in a sharp breath, quickly folding the sides in and praying that no one saw. you nearly zone out completely before your eye catches a small, hand-written note below the raging red letter you so badly wanted to hide from.
âsee me after class to discuss your grade.â it reads.
great, as if your week couldn't get any worse, you'd now have to sit and endure the embarrassment of being confronted about your (now failing) grade. you had prayed that it wouldn't get to this point, holding on to your sixty-five percent for dear-life as you struggled to keep up with the mind-boggling lectures. philosophy was a class you hated more than any frustrating math course, dry comp class, or confusing natural science lab in which you itched to snatch the annoying clunky goggles off your face.
no, philosophy was different. it was the bane of your existence, and not just because of the weird, jargon-heavy terminology, or the need to memorize every philosopher in existence from b.c. to today. although you could do with developing better study habits for the class, you weren't half as motivated to even spend more than thirty minutes on it since this wasn't even for your major. alas, colleges must find a way to drain your poor pockets even more, so why not make it a degree requirement? capitalism.
as if the hate you harbored for the content of the humanities course wasn't enough, only one thing could make it a living hell. professor leon kennedy, your instructor for the duration of the semester. after coming in late for one class and duly getting marked tardy, your professor took it upon himself to make a spectacle out of you in front of the entire class since then.
he'd call on you multiple times during a class period to answer a question, to which you'd frantically stutter out some generic, bullshit answer. he'd hum as if he'd considered your answer, only to turn back around to his desk with a simple, "not quite," and then proceed to make you look even dumber by spitting out words you'd never even heard before. it was an understatement to say that you didn't like him, you couldn't stand him.
after your professor had finished passing out the last few exams and outlined what was due for next class, you all but grimaced as he dismissed everyone, knowing you'd have to stay behind. you stayed glued to your seat, heart hammering in your chest at the quiet tension present in the nearly empty lecture hall.
professor kennedy didn't look up right away. he was behind his desk, filing away a stack of papers you could only assume would be the remaining exams he has yet to grade. you scowled at his calm demeanor, his presence almost mocking as you watched his deft hands close the file cabinet.
he was tall, broad, and annoyingly composed in that white compression shirt rolled to the apex of his veiny forearms. he wore pants that somehow never wrinkled, pressed with precision and fit his frame excellently. he was muscular, biceps nearly bulging out of the too-tight shirt he wore. he was also unbelievably handsome, his icy blue-grey eyes that were always focused, dark-brown hair that framed his stupidly sharp jawline you'd see tighten every now and then. you hated how undeniably attractive he was. it just made everything worse.
"door," he says, not sparing you a glance as he tidies the rest of his desk. "pull the blinds and close it on your way over." you roll your eyes at his curtness, but you walk down from your seat anyway. the sooner this was over, the better. you couldn't stand to look at his annoyingly handsome face anymore, even more so now that you were discussing your performance in his class.
when you make it back over to his desk, he leaned back in his chair, piercing eyes locking onto yours with that same stare he used in lectures. you stood at the end of his desk, nails digging into the fabric of your sweatshirt as you wait for him to say something.
"sit." he says curtly, nodding towards the desk in the first row that sat opposite from him. you dropped into it heavily, setting your bag onto the ground next to you as you settle into the uncomfortable desk. you turn your gaze to him, wide eyes staring into his as you shuffle uncomfortably.
"sixty-two percent," he starts, the words like a gunshot ringing through the air. "down three points from your already ambitious sixty-five. at this rate, you're looking at a solid F for the semester if the final doesn't miraculously save your grade."
you winced at his sarcastic tone, mouth running dry as you muster up a response, "i know, i'm... not really great with this stuff. philosophy isn't even my major, it's just--"
"a requirement?" he cuts you off, "yes, i've heard that one before." he says sharply, eyebrows pulling together as he folds his hands over the desk. internally, you could kill him. why do some professors make it their life mission to torture students who couldn't give a fuck about their useless class? despite your thoughts, you stay quiet, not daring to say another word.
"but you showed up late, half-ass the discussion posts, and give me these vague, surface-level answers instead of engaging with the material. that's not just "not great." that is a deliberate lack of effort." he says, the words cutting deep like a knife. you bit the inside of your cheek, agitation crossing your features as you take in his words.
heat rushed up your neck and blossomed on your cheeks, feeling exposed and ashamed. you exhale in a sigh, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as you think of a response. "you don't exactly make it easy," you muttered before you could stop yourself. "calling me out like i'm some kind of example." you say, frustration and embarrassment mixing into one ugly emotion.
his expression hardened slightly, raising a brow at your brazenness. "you are an example. you come in late and zone out during lectures while the rest of your classmates actively participate. and your grade is a reflection of that." he spits, leaning forward in his chair slightly, voice dropping as his gaze bored into you, unrelenting. "i don't enjoy humiliating students. but i also don't tolerate half-measures in my classroom. not when the material actually matters.â he pauses, letting the words soak in for a moment before he continues.
you grimace, part of you wanting to snap back and say nothing about plato or socrates fucking matters when you had other important classes kicking your ass and rent to pay. but you push the thought down, taking in his words silently as you fiddle with your fingers.
he sighs, he didn't like making students feel bad at all. contrary to what you thought, he just wanted you to actually put in the effort. he studied you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp eyes.
"here's the deal," he started, "i will give you a chance to salvage this. twice a week, my classroom, four pm. starting today, if you want to pass. bring your readings, notesâ if you even have anyâ and you come ready to work. i will walk you through the material, and challenge you until you can actually defend an argument with logic instead of hiding behind 'i don't know.' such as that, you stop the excuses, show up on time, and engage yourself in my class." he spiels, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for your answer.
you stare dumbly at him, sitting in your seat like a statue as you consider his offer. at this rate, there's only one right answer, because you sure as hell were going to bomb the final if you didn't lock in right now.
he speaks up once more upon your silence, "if you accept, i expect you to be prepared. if not, then i suggest you make preparations to take this class again next fall." you swallowed hard, the thought of having to take this god-awful class again making something stir in your tummy. you refused to take philosophy again, that'd be like going from regular hell to the blue part of hell. you couldn't afford that, not with your schedule, not with your wallet, and certainly not with your sanity.
"okay," you muttered, voice quieter than you wanted it to be. you forced yourself to meet his eyes, even though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. "i accept. i'll... try." you sigh, feeling your dignity being snatched from you with every syllable you uttered.
professor kennedy didn't smile, he simply gave you a quick nod and uncrossed his arms like he was expecting that to be your answer. damn him, you think. you glanced at the clock on the wall, it reads 3:36 pm. you hadn't eaten since this morning, your back-to-back classes not allowing for a quick stop to grab something to eat.
as if plato, socrates, and nietzsche were plotting together on your downfall for disregarding their rhetoric, your stomach makes an embarrassingly loud growl. you bite you lip and furrow your eyebrows, knowing the sound had echoed through the deathly quiet classroom. damn you nietzsche, you nihilist.
professor kennedy's eybrow twitched upwards, and for the first time, you felt like you saw something akin to amusement flicker across his otherwise stone-cold exterior.
"hungry?" he questions, voice low and dry. he didn't wait for your response. instead, he opens one of the drawers in his desk and pulls out a small, chocolate protein bar. it wasn't much, but it was something. he tossed it lightly to the desk in front of you, an unbothered expression on his face.
"eat. don't need you passing out mid-session. we have work to do." he says, nodding towards the packet in front of you. "now. plato. start talking. i'm listening." he commands, watching as you stare at him like a deer in headlights.
the protein bar sat between you like a test. your stomach growled again, quieter this time, as if it sensed food was in the vicinity. you were flushed, mortified, and now you had to explain plato while your brain was running on empty and your professor waited expectantly. you hesitated, fingers inching towards the protein bar but not quite grabbing it yet. your brain felt mushy, your nerves were shot, and the thought of diving straight into plato right now was terrifying.
instead, you cleared your throat softly and asked a question to buy yourself some more time. "um... before i explain it," you say, voice a little shaky, "can you tell me what you think is the most important part of the allegory? like, which part matters most?" you sputter out, a shy smile on your features as you swallow.
professor kennedy leaned back in his chair once more, one eyebrow arched slightly as he studied you. eyes piercing into your form as the faintest hit of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he saw right through your attempt to stall around.
"nice try," he said, voice dry but not entirely unkind. "buying time by turning the question on me." he hums, tilting his head slightly as you stare at him with wide eyes. shit, he caught on, you think, lips pursing together as you exhale softly in a defeated sigh.
he paused for a moment, watching as you look down at the desk in defeat knowing you were probably completely clueless. he taps his finger on the desk before continuing, "but fine. i'll indulge youâ this time." you look up, not expecting him to agree to answer your question. he leans forward again, resting his forearms on the desk, sharp blue eyes staring into yours in a way that makes your stomach flip.
"the most important part is the the prisoner's journey out of the cave. how painful it was for him to adjust, the confusion," he starts, the words falling from his lips like honey as he speaks expertly on the narrative. "what plato intends to tell us is that real learning... real truth... hurts." his words almost feel personal as you swallow, eyes never leaving his as he continues.
"it's not gentle, it's brutal. it's something most people don't want to face. in order to grow, you must be uncomfortable." he says, words landing heavier than you expected. you feel your mouth grow dry as you mull over his words. well, shit. maybe philosophy was more important than you thought. it actually made sense.
professor kennedy takes in your thoughtful expression, tilting his head slightly as you reflect. "that's my take. now it's yours," he says, nodding once more towards the protein bar you'd neglected. "eat something first. your stomach has been announcing it's displeasure for the last five minutes." he leans back, giving you a little more space to gather your thoughts and actually say something coherent. however, his eyes stay fixed on you, expectant and unrelenting.
"whenever you're ready. tell me what the allegory means to you. not a textbook summary. not what you think i want to hear. be honest. just think." the classroom was too quiet, the faint tick of the wall clock and the distant hum of campus life outside the windows filling the silence. you swallowed, hesitating for half a second before reaching for the protein bar he'd tossed to you like a peace offering.
the paper crinkled loudly in the lecture hall as you opened it, taking two quick, generous bites before swallowing. it was something, at least. it was enough to stop your stomach from gurgling anymore and clear some of the fog in your head.
professor kennedy watched you the entire time, one eyebrow slightly raised, but he didn't comment. he simply waited, arms crossed across his broad chest with the same patient, composed expression on his face.
taking one more bite for quick measure, you swallow down the last little part you'd bitten before setting the rest on the desk. you let out a shaky breath and forced the words out before you chickened out completely. "okay, um." you started, voice softer than you wanted, "i get what you're saying about the pain part. like... the truth hurts sometimes, and change sucks." you say, shifting in your chair uncomfortably as you try and think of a more intelligent rebuttal.
"but... i think it's a little⊠cruel. like, why force him out of the cave if all that waits for him is pain? it seems a little pointless. if people want to stay in the dark, maybe they should just... stay there." you winced a little at your answer, knowing it probably sounded childish or lazy to him. at least it was honest.
"um, i guess that's my take. it feels kind of hopeless, going into something and literally being blind." you trailed, fingers twitching on the desk as you shrugged awkwardly. the room is silent for a moment. professor kennedy's eyes studied you, considering your response before shifting in his seat.
then he nodded once, slowly. "not bad." he hums, and your eyes widen, expecting a completely different response. not bad? you thought you sounded so naive, but luckily all that mattered to him was that it seemed genuine. "honest, at the very least. at least you're engaging with the discomfort instead of giving me usual surface-level drivel. but your reading is... limited. you're focusing on the wrong part. the real cruelty is ignorance itself." he uncrossed his arms and leaned forward slightly, resting a forearm on the desk. his gaze is focused, steady as he stares at you, unrelenting. you let his words sink in, accepting the feedback openly now that you're actually trying.
"you say it feels pointless to force the prisoner out when they prefer the dark. but the prisoners are not choosing the shadows. they don't even know the sun exists. they've spent their lives thinking the cave is all there is." his tone dropped half a fraction, still perfectly controlled, composed and calm. "and you... you are doing the exact same thing right now." your breath hitches ever so slightly, seeing how his analogy tied back to your effort in the classroom.
damn professors, always trying to turn things into a lesson. what's worse? he was right.
he tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as they held your gaze. "you behave the way you do in my class because you think it's easier than admitting the material is actually important, not just a requirement." his voice stayed low, but there was a new edge to it, something heavier that made the air between you feel thicker. his fingers tap the desk again, slow and calculated as he assesses you.
"tell me, honestly," he starts, eyes scanning your figure, "when you think i'm calling you out in class, when you sit here all defensive and frustrated... is it really plato you're fighting? or is it the fact that i refuse to let you stay comfortable in your own little cave?" he paused, letting the question sit with you like a challenge wrapped in a lesson. his greyed eyes stay locked onto yours, intense and unblinking.
professor kennedy waited expectantly on your answer, broad shoulders settling back against his chair, arms still lazily crossed on his firm chest. his blue-grey eyes didnât waver for a second as the question hung between you, heavy and deliberate, like another layer of the text you were supposed to be unpacking.
you blink dumbly, mouth opening and closing as you try to muster up a response, but you canât will yourself to give him an answer. you only stare down at his desk in front of you, frozen in space as you reflect on his words.
"new method," he continued, tone measured and authoritative, like he was simply adjusting the lesson plan for better results. "since sitting here across from me isnât forcing you to feel the vulnerability the prisoner experiences when heâs dragged out of the cave, weâre going to change your position. literally." he says, your brows furrowing in confusion. his gaze never leaves yours, eyes piercing as he continues. just what does he have plannedâŠ?
"get on your knees. right here. now." he nodded, gesturing towards the side of the desk not far from where he was seated. your eyes widen in disbelief, ears hot as your heart beats faster in your throat. no way, no way this asshole was going to embarrass you like this. but your grade was at stake⊠hell, your degree was at stake, so you decide to follow along with whatever insane methods he had planned.
after a few tense seconds, you finally muster up the courage to rise from your comfortable seat, lowering yourself onto the floor with a soft thud. the position immediately made you feel exposed, vulnerable, uncomfortable, one might say. the way professor kennedy was seated above you staring down with that same, passive expression made your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
you resented him for making you feel so embarrassed. you lower your gaze, the position too compromising for you to maintain direct eye contact with him. your cheeks burned as you stared down at your hands which trembled in your lap, biting your lip to calm your nerves while pretending you're invisible. even then, you could feel the way his eyes bore into your unmoving frame, could feel the heat of his stare as he watched you from his seat.
he studied you quietly, taking in the nervous way you shifted, your heavy breaths, and the way your shoulders were slightly tense. "good," he said quietly, voice low as his eyes rake over your form. "now, close your eyes." he commands, and your breath hitches, slightly panicked at his request. you sputter ever so slightly, wide eyes finally meeting his as you look at him with a confused expression. he raises a brow, almost mockingly, as if saying, are you really in a position to argue with me right now?
you sigh, hands nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt as your eyes flutter shut. your heart is heavy and pounding in your chest as you wait for his next prompt anxiously, pulse racing as you attempt to calm yourself down. the room suddenly feels smaller with your eyes closed, every sound amplified in the darkness. you hear the way his chair creaks as he shifts, the rustle of fabric, the calm, controlled rhythm of his breathing and your shallow, uneven breaths... it all feels too much for you.
professor kennedy doesn't speak right away, only lets the silence drag on while you shift uncomfortably on the floor. your fingers twist tighter on the hem of your skirt, nails digging into the fabric as you suddenly feel so exposed. every movement you make felt magnified, spectacled. it was exactly how he made you feel in class.
"better," he says flatly, voice lower, almost intimate in the deathly quiet classroom. "this is closer to the prisoner's reality. stripped of comfort, control. forced to rely on senses other than sight... on the mercy of whoever is above you." he says, and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it's about to explode. the drawl in his voice was almost sultry, like honey dripping from his lips as your thighs pressed together self-consciously.
something about how you were completely at his will made you feel tingly. despite how embarrassed you were, you could feel yourself getting aroused from how uncertain things were. you feel the air shift in the classroom. everything felt hotâ too hot to be appropriate. but, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it even a little bit. it felt sensual, being at his mercy and hanging on to his every word.
you hear him move ever so slightly, your lashes fluttering with the nagging urge to peek. you feel his presence closer to your face as he speaks up once more, "keep them closed," he reminds you in his deep voice. there's a hint of amusement in his tone now, voice low and commanding. "tell me what you feel right now. the truth." he prompts, and you suck in a breath and shakily exhale from being so put on the spot. your heart hammered in your chest, the command lingering in the air as you shift in your spot on the floor.
he waits, patient as ever, the weight of his gaze heavy even without sight. you bite your lip, jaw quivering a bit as you struggle to speak. when you hesitate, he adds softly, almost coaxing you. "speak. or i will give you a more⊠immersive lesson." he warns, the threat hanging the air, quiet, but lingering.
you finally speak up, voice quieter than you liked it to be, "i.. feel embarrassed. like... like you're looking at me and... there's⊠nowhere i can hide." you stutter out, pursing your lips at how nervous you sounded. you couldnât pull yourself together if you tried. his presence was too overwhelming, too much for you to handle. his commands were almost impossible for you to compute in your head, brain foggy as you tried your best to focus.
a low, approving hum escapes him, and the sound sends something straight to your tummy. "good girl," he says, the praise making you jolt ever so slightly and you nearly choke on your spit. "you're learning. 'tleast you're being honest now." the praise is foreign, but it feel so nice coming from him. you shudder, the feeling in your stomach twisting into something akin to arousal. you want to hear him call you that again, to hear him praise you for your responses. it felt way too good hearing him speak to you like that.
you hear the chair roll back slightly, then the sound of him standing. his footsteps are slow and deliberate as he circles around the desk and stops in front of you. you can sense his presence, the shadow of his body in front of you behind your closed eyelids.
"hands behind your back," he orders next, and you shakily exhale at his command, breath getting caught in your throat as you sit nervously below him. "and keep your eyes closed. no peeking." he reiterates, and you don't dare to open them now.
a part of you wants to rush out of the classroom and walk out forever. it was almost too embarrassing to be worth it. but, the other half of you is painfully aware of the growing ache between your thighs and the growing warmth in your belly, and you decide against the former.
you slide your hands behind you, fingers linking, the motion forcing your chest forward slightly, your posture straightening under his scrutiny. your compliance earns a quiet sound of satisfaction from him, and you think you might just explode from how humiliating the situation is.
"that's much better. now you see how it feels to be dragged into the light, blind to your own ignorance," he says, and you feel him step ever so slightly closer, the woodsy scent of his cologne clouding your senses. "but not to worry, i'm here to guide you..." he drawls, his voice low and dark. his fingersâwarm and steadyâpush a strand of your hair behind your ear, the touch so light and unexpected it makes you jump a little. you inhale sharply, his touch like a thousand tiny needles piercing into your skin. he doesn't pull away, instead his knuckles cascade over your jaw for a brief second, a silent reminder of who's in control.
"tell me again," he whispers, voice like smoke curling around you. "what do you feel now?" he asks, and your breath catches in your throat at the question. it was like he was dedicating his entire life to torturing you, personally. but you can't deny the wetness in your panties, and the way they clung to you as you scramble to think of a response.
the touch of his knuckles on your jaw lingers like a brand, even though his hand has already pulled away. you're hyper-aware of everything nowâthe cool air on your exposed thighs, the way your skirt had ridden up from the position, the faint ache in between your legs that had been building for way too long now...
"i... i feel small," you whisper, words tumbling out before you could stop them. your mouth was dry, voice slightly strained as you hold back a whine. "i'm... my heart's racing and i can't stop it..." you stutter, and you feel like you could just about explode from how vulnerable you feel right now. a heavy silence fills the space between you after your whispered confession. you can hear the faint shift of his weight, the slow tap of his shoes on the floor as he processes your words.
professor kennedy exhales slowly, the sound low and deliberate, like heâs savoring the way your voice cracked on the last word. "small," he repeats, testing the word on his tongue. his voice is velvety, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath brush your temple. "does it make you want to hide? hm? retreat back to your little cave?" he asks, footsteps heavy as he circles your form.
his hand returns, settling heavy on your shoulder, thumb pressing into the tense muscle there. the touch is firm, grounding, but it sends another pulse of heat straight between your legs. your soaked panties cling obscenely to your cunt, the wetness having seeped down your inner thighs now, making every tiny shift feel slick and humiliating. but you couldnât deny how turned on you were right now.
"or maybeâŠ" his lips are so close to your ear that his breath fans hot across the shell of it, voice dropping to a rough whisper that vibrates through you. "you want to confront it." you swallow hard, the sound loud in your own ears.
your fingers twist tighter behind your back, knuckles white, as a fresh wave of shame and want crashes over you. the ache between your thighs has turned into a deep, throbbing need, your clit pulsing in time with your racing heartbeat. you hate how right he is. hate how badly you want to lean back into him, to feel more than just the ghost of his touch.
"i... yes, i want to confront it. don't wanna hide anymore...." your confession hangs in the air like a surrender, soft and trembling, and the second the words leave your lips you feel him still completely behind you. his hand grips your shoulder a bit tighter, a satisfied sound leaving his mouth at your admission.
"fuck," he breathes against your ear, the single curse sounding almost reverent. "thatâs it. thatâs exactly what i wanted to hear." he breathes, hands sliding down from your shoulder to brush against your arm. goosebumps form in the wake of his touch, the light ghost of his fingertips like an ice cube running down your heated skin. his hands slide lower down your body, past your interlocked fingers and snaking around your front to smooth over your thigh.
his fingers brush under the thin material of your skirt, inching closer to your inner thigh to your wetness. you let out shaky breaths, chest rising and falling slightly faster at the tension surrounding you two. you let out a gargled whine as his fingers finally brush the ruined fabric of your panties. his fingers pause for a heartbeat against your panties, pressing just enough to feel the obscene heat and slickness soaking through. then he groans low in his throat, the sound raw and hungry, vibrating against your back as he drags two thick fingers up and down the drenched seam of your cunt.
"jesus fucking christ," he rasps, voice wrecked with barely concealed restraint, "fucking soaked." he rubs slow, firm circles over the soaked fabric, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet room. your knees wobble, thighs trembling as you fight the urge to grind against his hand.
he doesnât bother with teasing anymore. with a rough tug he yanks the soaked crotch of your panties aside, baring your slick, swollen pussy completely. the cool air hits your exposed folds and you shudder hard, a broken, gargled whine tearing from your throat as his fingers finallyâfinallyâtouch you skin to skin.
his thick fingers dip down to collect your slick, the wet sound obscene in the quiet classroom as you moan softly. bringing his fingers back up, the coated digits press firmly onto your clit, rubbing small, agonizing circles into the bundle of nerves as you twitch ever so slightly. the pressure is almost too much, too raw as the pads of his calloused fingers teasingly rub you.
his firm chest is pressed flush to your back at this point, thighs on the outside of your kneeling ones as he leans over your shoulder to watch the way your cunt clenches desperately around nothing.
"god, look at that," he murmurs, voice low and filthy against the side of your neck, breath hot on your skin. "'s like you're beggin' for me to fill you up." he whispers, fingers cascading down to your aching hole again. you choke out a moan, eyes finally fluttering open as you watch his movements. his finger prods at your slit, pushing in slowly as your cunt enthusiastically accommodates him.
a low, broken moan rips from your throat the moment he sinks the thick digit inside you, your walls fluttering and clenching greedily around the intrusion. the stretch is perfectâhot, deliberate, and so much better than the teasing circles on your clit had been. your eyes are drawn helplessly to the sight of his large hand disappearing under the bunched-up fabric of your skirt, a second thick digit pressing past your eager hole, pumping them in and out slowly.
professor kennedy lets out a dark, satisfied chuckle against your neck as you watch his fingers push into your pussy with ease. his free hand comes up to grip your jaw, tilting your head back against his shoulder so youâre forced to look up at him while he finger-fucks you.
"just had to get a peek, huh?" he murmurs, voice rough and amused, eyes drifting down to your lips as your eyes glaze over from the sheer pleasure of his fingers plunging inside you. your eyebrows pull together, lips falling open as you mewl from the way his thick fingers curl up inside you.
his grip on your jaw pulls you forward as he presses his lips against yours, fingers curling hard against that spongy spot inside your cunt on every slow, deliberate drag. professor kennedyâs mouth claims yours like heâs been starving for it, tongue sliding hot and possessive past your parted lips as you moan into him. his tongue strokes deep, tasting the desperate little noises you canât hold back, while his fingers keep fucking into you with that same relentless rhythmâslow, thick drags that curl viciously against your g-spot on every thrust.
the wet, filthy sound of his fingers plunging into your soaked pussy mixes with the slick slide of his tongue against yours, and itâs almost too much. your hands twitch behind your back, fingers still interlocked exactly where he told you to keep them, even as your hips jerk helplessly against his hand. his thumb reaches up to draw firm, tight circles into your clit, amplifying your pleasure and making your cunt clench greedily around his fingers.
you're close, the intensity of being completely at his will so delicious you feel like you could cry. you loved itâloved the way he broke you down, made you feel so powerless, yet so incredibly ruined that you almost hated how much you enjoyed it.
leon feels itâ the way your walls suddenly flutter and lock down around his thick fingers like a vice, the way your whole body starts to tremble uncontrollably against his chest. he groans deep into your mouth, the sound raw and triumphant, swallowing every desperate mewl as he kisses you harder, tongue fucking against yours in perfect filthy sync with his hand.
he pulls away to stare into your glossy eyes, small, high-pitched moans leaving your mouth as you crumble underneath his touch. "that's it... don't you dare hide from me. you gonna cum for me? gonna show me how much you need this?" his voice is low, filthy, and dripping with command. his fingers curl harder, faster, pounding that perfect spot inside you while his thumb presses down on your clit with ruthless, tight circles.
"oh, my god... professor, i'mâ"
your whole body locks up. a sharp, broken cry rips from your throat as your orgasm finally crests, shocks of pleasure running up your spine as raspy moans fall from your lips. your back arches almost painfully at the pleasure, head falling back on professor's kennedy's shoulder as your cunt spasms around his thick fingers. your thighs shake uncontrollably, knees scraping against the cold floor as wave after wave crashes through you, slick soaking his hand and dripping messily down your thighs.
leon watches every second of it, eyes dark and burning, drinking in the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your mouth falls open as you moan prettily for him. "that's it... such a good fucking girl," he growls, never slowing his fingers, fucking you straight through the orgasm. "so fucking pretty, coming apart for me like that. my good little student." you whimper softly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure-pain as you start to feel overstimulation creep up on you.
he keeps stroking you through every aftershock, drawing it out until youâre twitching and whimpering, oversensitive and gasping. only then does he slowly ease his fingers out of your fluttering cunt, leaving you empty and dripping. the sudden absence makes you whine, your pussy clenching uselessly around nothing, still pulsing with the remnants of your orgasm. a thick trail of your slick runs down your inner thighs, warm on your skin.
leon brings his glistening fingers to his own mouth first, licking them clean with a low, satisfied hum while holding your gaze. "taste so fuckin' sweet." he groans, voice rough and filthy as he wipes the remaining wetness on your bottom lip. he leans in and kisses you slowly and carefully, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. the kiss is deep and possessive, but gentler than before, almost tender in the aftermath of your orgasm.
when he pulls back, his eyes are still dark with hunger as they take in your fucked-out form. your skirt is flipped up around your waist, panties pulled to the side, and your hands rest lazily on his thighs for support. your vision is dazed and fuzzy, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, and your eyes gazed into his with dark desire.
"look at you, sweetheart," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lips as he takes in your expression. "you want me to fuck you, don't you? greedy little thing." he hums, low and pleased, the sound vibrating against your body. you have to bite your lip to hold back a whine, you were so fucking desperate for him. he watches the way you bite your lip, the desperate little struggle clear on your face, and his eyes darken even further with desire.
"don't you hide from me now, sweetheart," he says, thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth as he continues, "i want to hear every sound when i fucking wreck that tight little cunt."
the words hit you like a gust of wind, sending a shiver down your spine at his filth. a helpless whine finally escapes your throat, raw and needy, and professor kennedyâs lips curl into a dark, satisfied smile. "that's right... just like that." he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before rising to his feet as you remain on your knees.
professor kennedy towers over you, eyes burning with dark hunger as he looks down at your flushed, desperate face. his hand slides into your hair, gripping just tight enough to tilt your head back so youâre forced to keep looking up at him. "up," he orders, eyes staring into yours dangerously as you shift on your knees. you scramble to your feet on shaky legs, heart hammering wildly in your chest as you stand before him, skirt still bunched around your waist, thighs slick with your own arousal. your eyes stay locked on his, wide and eager, waiting for whatever comes next.
he doesnât speak right away, instead, he lets the silence stretch, drinking in the sight of you â flushed, trembling, completely at his mercy. then, without warning, he grabs your wrist, leads you to his desk and spins you around in his grasp. he guides you down, pressing your front down onto the cool surface as your hips hit the hard edge. a firm hand between your shoulder blades pushes your chest down, pressing your covered breasts flat against the cool steel.
his hands slide down your body slowly, running down the line of your back until he reaches the plush of your ass. his hand flips your skirt up once more, impatiently kneading the flesh of your ass before delivering a harsh smack to the supple flesh. you jolt forward on the desk with a startled moan, the sting blooming hot across your skin.
his hand soothes over the spot before hooking into the band of your panties to slide them down your legs. they catch around your knees, but he doesn't bother pulling them all the way down, only focused on the delightful wetness between your thighs. his hands grip the fat of your ass rougher, spreading you open with his thumbs so he can see everything. a low, appreciative groan rumbles from his chest as he stares at your dripping, swollen pussy that clenches around nothing under his stare.
"fuck," he mutters under his breath, voice thick with lust. "god, you're so hungry for it. greedy little cunt's practically weeping for me." he says, almost strained. he presses his clothed hardness against your wet cunt, grinding into you as the rough fabric of his pants catches your clit in a way that feels so painfully delicious. you choke out a moan and look over your shoulder, eyes gazing into his pleadingly as he teases you.
leon meets your gaze, his own eyes dark and blown with lust, jaw tight with restraint. a low, strained groan escapes him as he feels how wet you are, how your slick is already soaking through the front of his pants. he keeps grinding against you, the thick ridge of his clothed cock sliding between your folds, catching your clit with every roll of his hips. each pass sends sparks shooting up your spine, making your thighs tremble and your fingers scrabble uselessly against the desk.
he smirks and bends over you, chest pressed firm against your back as his lips graze the shell of your ear. "you want it that badly, huh, sweetheart?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as you shudder under him. "you want your professor to stop teasing and finally stuff this desperate pussy full of his cock?" you moan at his filthy words, eyebrows pulling together as you attempt to grind back against him. he grips your hip tightly, stopping any movement on your end.
he reaches between you, deft hand working expertly to unbuckle his belt as he shoves his slacks and boxers down his legs just enough to free himself. the heavy, thick length of his cock presses against your ass before he shifts and drags his length along your folds, head catching your clit with every forward push of his hips. you whine, legs nearly shaking as he teases you, almost giving you the tip of his cock before pulling back.
"tell me," he starts, the forearm that rested on the desk sneaking into your tresses and wrapping around the strands tightly. he angles your head to look back at him over your shoulder, eyes glossy as you wince slightly from the pain. "tell me what you want. i wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. no more hiding." the thick head of his cock nudges insistently at your entrance again, stretching you open just enough to make your cunt flutter desperately around nothing before he pulls back once more, leaving you empty and aching.
you're desperate to feel him, to have him holding you down as you take him, and you can't help the neediness in your voice as you beg for him to do something, anything. the words spill out of you before you can stop them, voice breathy, broken, and shameless, "god, please... professor, want your cock... so fucking bad. please just fuck me, need you to, can't take it anymore..." you whine, nearly drooling at the way his head presses in and out of your aching cunt.
a deep, guttural groan leaves his mouth at your plea, his hand leaving your hair to find purchase on your other hip. he leans back up, aligining his cock to your hole as he prepares to push in, "such a good girl..." he coos, and you can't stop the soft moan that leaves your mouth at his praise. professor kennedy doesn't tease anymore. he finally pushes his hips forward, hands gripping your hips tightly as he inches his way inside your tight cunt. the stretch is unlike any other. he's so deliciously girthy, and you swear you can feel every vein dragging along your sensitive walls, every thick inch claiming you.
he lets out a loud, strained groan, eyebrows pulling together as he pushes further inside your tightness. he keeps going slow, savoring every ridge and flutter of your spongy walls, until his hips finally press flush against your ass as he bottoms out completely. the head of his cock kisses the deepest part of you, so deep it feels like heâs pressing against your cervix. youâre so full it borders on too much, a delicious ache blooming low in your belly.
"christ, you're tight," he rasps, voice rough and wrecked. "grippin' me like a vice, sweetheart. so fucking perfect." he praises, rubbing small circles into your waist as he pulls out, only to snap his hips back into yours roughly. your mouth falls open, a broken moan leaving your throat as you jolt forward on the desk. he feels sinfully good against the spongy inside of your walls, and you can't help the way you flutter around his thick cock. his first few thrusts are slow and deep. long, dragging strokes that pull almost all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt, letting you feel every thick inch. the wet, obscene sound of your slick coating his cock fills the room with every movement.
but soon, his restraint snaps. his blunt nails dig into your waist harder, his breathing growing heavier as he feels every clench of your walls around his cock. with a low, animalistic groan, leonâs hips snap forward sharply, slamming into you with sudden, brutal force. the change is immediate and devastating. he starts fucking you hard with deep, punishing thrusts that make the desk jolt beneath you and your breasts press harder against the desk with every impact.
you're moaning uncontrollably at his change in pace, eyebrows pulling together as you press your forehead into the cold surface. your hands grip desperately at the ends of the desk to gain some control, face contorting in sheer pleasure with every drag of his cock against your walls. each powerful stroke punches the air from your lungs. the thick head of his cock kisses your cervix on every thrust, the stretch and fullness so intense it borders on overwhelming.
"fuck... thatâs it," he growls, voice dark and filthy as he watches your body jolt forward with every snap of his hips. "take it. take every fucking inch like the greedy little student you are." he leans over you, chest pressing flush to your back, one hand sliding up to fist tightly in your hair. he yanks your head back, forcing your back to arch deeper as he drives into you even harder.
"listen to those pretty sounds," he rasps against your ear, breath hot and ragged. "sounds so filthy getting fucking wrecked by your professor. tight little cunt's creaming all over my cock, sweetheart. making such a mess." he coos almost mockingly, fucking you deeper into his desk as his grip on your hair tightens ever so slightly.
you let out a particularly loud moan, the head of his cock battering your g-spot with devastating precision. he chuckles breathily, keeping his bruising pace as you feel a knot begin to unravel in your stomach. "that the spot, sweetheart?" his voice is low, mocking, and dripping with desire as he feels your walls flutter wildly around him.
he angles his hips just a fraction more and starts slamming into that exact spot with ruthless, unrelenting force. each brutal thrust makes your legs shake violently and your moans turn into broken, high-pitched cries. "ohâ god yes, right there!" you blabber out, gasping for breath as you feel your orgasm begin to close in on you.
with one particularly harsh drag of his hips, you cum around his cock hard, vision blurring as you clench uncontrollably around him. your hands grip the table, knuckles turning white as you writhe underneath him. your chest heaves up and down, each moan that leaves your mouth raspy and breathy. you gush around him, slick pulses of your release and dripping down your thighs in messy strings.
the filthy, wet sounds of him still drilling into your sloppy, creamy pussy grow even louder, downright obscene in the quiet room. professor kennedy lets out a deep, guttural groan at the feeling of you falling apart around him, but he doesnât slow down for even a second. "shit... look at that..." he says, gazing down at the mess you'd made on his cock. "youâre making such a fucking mess, sweetheart. soaking my cock, dripping all over my desk like a dirty girl." he degrades, hand leaving your hair to slip under your hip and rub at your slippery clit. you canât will yourself to care, the ecstasy of your orgasm still washing over you in violent waves.
he keeps pounding into you through your orgasm, hips snapping forward with ruthless force, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every brutal thrust. his fingers stay pressed against your clit, rubbing tight, merciless circles that drag your orgasm out longer, forcing every last pulse out of your trembling body.
your legs shake violently, knees threatening to buckle, but his strong hands grip your hips tighter, holding you in place as he fucks you straight through it. youâre still cumming. or maybe itâs a second orgasm crashing on top of the firstâ you canât even fucking tell anymore. all you know is that your vision is white, your mouth is open spilling continuous broken moans, and your cunt wonât stop spasming and gushing around his relentless cock.
professor kennedy leans over you again, chest pressed flush to your back, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as his fingers never stop working your swollen clit. "thatâs itâŠ" he growls, voice dark and possessive. "youâre doing so good, baby. such a perfect little student, cumming so hard all over my cock." he angles his hips slightly and drives into you even harder, the head of his cock grinding against that devastating spot deep inside with every brutal thrust.
the overstimulation is intense, but he doesnât let you escape it, holding you down and forcing you to take every second of it. your moans turn into hoarse, raspy cries, tears of overwhelming pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes as your body jerks and twitches uncontrollably beneath him.
he groans lowly, encouraging you to fall apart for him as his tip bruises your poor cervix, "i want one more," he growls, starting to build his pace again. "one more before i fill this pretty pussy up," his hand slides back between your legs, fingers teasing your clit once more as his thrusts grow steadily harder. "be a good girl and give it to me."
your body is already trembling, oversensitive and raw, but the way he talks to you makes your cunt clench hard around his thick cock despite the intensity. leon groans at the feeling, hips snapping forward with renewed force. he starts fucking you harder again, deep and relentless, the head of his cock hitting that sensitive spot inside you with every brutal thrust. his fingers press firmer against your swollen clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that send sharp, electric shocks of pleasure-pain shooting through your exhausted body.
youâre crying now, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as hoarse, broken whimpers and raspy cries falling from your lips with every punishing stroke. your legs are shaking so violently you can barely stay upright, only his bruising grip on your hips and the weight of his body pinning you to the desk keeping you in place.
"oh.. my god⊠professor, itâs too muchâ!" you sob, voice cracked and desperate. the way he feels against you is painful, but so sinfully delicious that your can't stop your greedy walls from clamping down around him like you're trying to pull him in deeper.
"shh," he coos against your ear, never slowing his pace. "you can take it. youâre going to take it. one more, sweetheart. give me one more." his tone is deceptively sweet, almost apologetic, but the way he fucks you is anything but that. his hips keep snapping forward with that same ruthless, punishing rhythm, driving his thick cock deep into your oversensitive cunt over and over again. every brutal thrust forces another broken sob from your lips, your body jerking helplessly beneath him as tears continue to stream down your flushed cheeks.
"please, professorâ i canât.. iâm.. gonnaâ"
"cum," he growls, voice dropping into that commanding tone that sends a fresh wave of heat through you. "cum all over my cock like a good fucking girl. let me feel you." he slams into you particularly hard, fingers pinching your clit at the same time, and you shatter.
your third orgasm hits you hard, intense, and hot as you moan loudly into the desk. your cunt clamps down violently around his cock, pulsing and gushing around him in hot, wet waves. your vision whites out completely, body convulsing and jerking beneath him as the pleasure rips through you like lightning.
leon groans loudly, hips stuttering for a moment as your walls milk him with desperate, rhythmic squeezes. "good girl⊠fuck, thatâs my good girl," he praises through gritted teeth, voice strained with his own pleasure. "taking me so well⊠cumming so fucking hard for me." he doesnât stop moving, still buried deep inside your spasming cunt as you shake and sob beneath him, completely wrecked.
only when your cries start turning weak and broken does he finally slow his thrusts, grinding deep inside your fluttering, soaked cunt as you come down. he stays buried to the hilt, letting you feel every thick inch while you tremble and gasp for air. his hand strokes soothingly over your hip, the touch almost tender now, even as his cock continues to twitch inside you.
but the tenderness doesnât last. leonâs breathing grows heavier, more ragged. his fingers dig into your hip again, no longer gentle. the slow, lazy grind turns sharper, more desperate. you can feel the shift in him, the way his cock swells even thicker inside your sensitive walls, the way his hips start to lose their controlled rhythm.
"god, you feel too good," he grunts, voice strained and rough. "so greedy, squeezing my cock so fucking tight." he pulls back slowly, only to slam back in with a deep, forceful thrust that makes you whimper. his pace starts building again more frantic than before as he chases his high. his hand leaves your hip and slides up your back, pressing you harder into the desk as he fucks you selfishly with need. his hips snap forward relentlessly, the wet slap of skin against skin growing louder and more urgent. every thrust is deep and punishing, the head of his cock bullying your cervix as he uses your spasming cunt to get himself off.
"shit, i'm so close," he growls, voice breaking with pleasure. "pretty little pussy's gonna make me cum." he leans over you completely, chest plastered to your back, one arm wrapping around your neck to hold you in place while the other braces on the desk beside your head. his thrusts turn shorter, faster, almost brutal as he chases his release.
"youâre going to take every drop," he rasps against your ear, breath hot and uneven. his voice is deep and possessive, his grip on your throat cutting off your breathing supply ever so slightly, but not enough to where you're gasping for air. "gonna fill this tight little cunt so deep with my cum you'll be dripping for days." his cock throbs violently inside you, swelling even more as he gets closer. his hips stutter, losing all rhythm now, slamming into you with desperate, erratic strokes.
"fuck, sweetheartâ shit, i'm cumming..." with a deep, guttural groan that vibrates through his chest into yours, leon buries himself to the hilt one last time and cums hard. his cock pulses powerfully inside you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your already soaked pussy. he keeps grinding deep, hips twitching with every spurt as he empties himself completely, pumping load after load into you until you can feel the warmth spreading deep in your belly.
he stays buried inside you even after heâs finished, cock still twitching with aftershocks, pressing every last drop as far inside you as possible. his breathing is ragged against the back of your neck, body heavy on top of yours as he comes down from his high. for a long moment, the only sounds in the office are your shared panting and the faint, wet sound of his cum starting to leak out around his cock where heâs still buried deep.
finally, he lets out a low, satisfied hum and presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck. "good girlâŠ" he murmurs, voice hoarse and sated. "took me so well, sweetheart." he says, kissing your cheek surprisingly soft and tender after the brutal way he just fucked you. his hand slides away from your throat, trailing down your spine in a gentle caress before he finally eases his hips back.
the moment he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum drips from your abused hole, running down your thighs in messy, obscene rivulets. you whimper softly at the sudden emptiness and the warm trickle, your cunt still fluttering weakly, clenching around nothing.
leon watches it with dark, hungry eyes, a low groan escaping him at the sight of his release leaking out of you. "shit, that's right..." he says quietly, voice slightly broken. one large hand reaches down to spread your cheeks again, thumb gently pushing some of his cum back inside your puffy entrance. you whine, arching away from his touch as you feel his hot cum leaking out of you.
he chuckles and helps you stand on shaky legs, turning you around to face him. your knees nearly buckle, but he catches you easily, pulling you against his chest. one arm wraps around your waist while his other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up so he can look at you properly.
your cheeks are tear-streaked, lips swollen, eyes glassy and fucked-out. leon studies you for a long moment, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek to wipe away the last traces of tears. "god, youâre beautiful," he murmurs, voice rough, but softer than itâs been all evening. "you did so, so good for me."
you swallow, still trying to catch your breath, your voice coming out small and hoarse. "âŠi didnât think i could⊠that i wouldâŠ" you trail off, cheeks burning as you glance down, embarrassed by how wrecked you sound.
"could what? cum that much?" he says quietly, a hint of amusement in his tone. you wince in embarrassment, his words making you shy away from his gaze. he chuckles softly, the sound warm and low in his chest as he feels you hide your face against him. his arms tighten around you, one hand coming to stroke your hair while the other rubs slow, soothing circles along your back.
"i feel⊠a little embarrassed now." your cheeks burning hotter as you mumble against his chest. you couldnât believe your situation right now. it was so wrong, but maybe thatâs what made it so good.
"because no oneâs ever taken the time to push you properly," he says gently. he tilts your chin up again so youâre looking at him. "youâre smarter than you think. just needed a bit of⊠guidance. someone willing to push you out of that comfortable little cave and show you how bright it can be when you finally step into the light." he says, raising his brows as he stares down at you.
your cheeks burn even hotter at his words. you squirm a little in his arms, an awkward cough escaping you as you think about how this situation started in the first place. "don't try to tie this back to plato..." you say teasingly, eyes narrowing at him as you feel more of his cum drip down the side of your thigh.
he lets out a low, genuine laugh at your teasing words, the sound warm and rumbling through his chest. his eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks down at you. "oh, sweetheart," he says, voice dripping with fond mischief, "iâm a professor. tying everything back to plato is basically in my job description." he says, a playful expression gracing his face as he gauges your expression.
you scoff, not believing how nonchalant he can be about it after doing something so intimate with you, "whatever..." you say, half-laughing, half-embarrassed, lightly smacking his chest with your palm. "you're not real."
he catches your hand easily, bringing it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. "i'm very real, sweetheart. there's proof of me between your legs right now." he smirks, tilting his head to the side as he grips your hand to his chest.
your eyes widen and you let out a mortified little squeak, trying to pull your hand back as fresh heat floods your face. "youâre the worst professor ever." you lie, rolling your eyes as you hold back a laugh at his boldness.
leaning down, his lips graze the shell of his ear as he whispers sultrily, "and yet," he starts, pressing a short kiss to your earlobe, "you let this worst professor bend you over his desk and fuck you until you were crying. so, maybe iâm not that bad." he purrs, pulling back from your ear to watch your reaction.
you bite your lip, trying (and failing) to fight the shy smile spreading across your face. "âŠyouâre... not that bad," you admit softly, almost reluctantly. you sigh, giving in to his irresistible charms and voice as you stare into his eyes.
he smiles softly, tilting his head as he gazes into your eyes with that amused, knowing look., "don't forget you have a reading due next week."
your jaw drops in genuine disbelief, and you let out a scandalized little laugh, lightly shoving his chest again. "you did not just say that," you gasp, eyes wide. "after everything, youâre seriously bringing up the reading assignment right now?" you say, a little embarrassed as you think about the reading youâve yet to start on.
professor kennedyâs smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction far too much. he gently pulls you back against him, voice dropping into that smooth, authoritative tone youâre becoming dangerously familiar with. "iâm still your professor, sweetheart," he says, lips brushing your ear. "and youâre still my student. plato doesnât grade himself." he drawls, chuckling deeply.
you groan dramatically, letting your head fall forward against his chest. you bite your lip, smiling shyly as you whisper, "okay, i get it." you say, tone changing as you start to feel appreciative. "thank you⊠for pushing me." you say shyly, mumbling into his chest as you smile softly at the comforting smell of his cologne.
his expression melts into something tender. "don't mention it," he murmurs. "my doorâs open for you. whether you're questioning your existence or simply need someone to talk to, i'll be here." he says sincerely, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back as he holds you.
you smile at that, pulling away to press a shy kiss to his lips before pulling your drenched panties up and over your hips. he helps you pull your skirt down over your waist, straightening out the material as best he could before gazing down at you, hands resting on the small of your waist.
"go home and get some rest. you need it," he pauses, then adds with a small, playful glint in his eye, "but donât forget that reading for next week. i expect your full attention in class⊠even if you are still sore." he teases, kissing you one last time with quiet affection. he murmurs against your lips, the words half-teasing, half-warning.
you roll your eyes as you grab your bag that had long since been abandoned by the desk across from his, slinging it over your shoulder as he walks you to the door. "yeah, yeah. i get it." you say, adjusting the strap of your bag so it sits comfortably against your slumped shoulders.
professor kennedy chuckles softly, his arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep your shaky legs steady. he leans down, lips brushing your temple as you both reach the door. "you say that now," he teases, voice low and warm, "but i know you. get it done." he reiterates, narrowing his eyes at you teasingly, a soft smile present on his features.
you let out an exaggerated groan at his persistent nagging, tilting your head back dramatically against his shoulder. "yes, professor," you reply in a mockingly sweet voice, batting your lashes up at him. "iâll do the reading. i promise." you mock, voice raised a few registers higher as you gaze up at him.
"good," he murmurs, clearly pleased with your playful obedience. "thatâs all i ask." he says, brushing a finger over your cheek to push a stray hair behind your ear.
you smile at him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before turning on your heel and stepping into the hallway. you steal one glance back at him, and heâs still there â leaning against the doorframe with that amused, satisfied look on his face, muscular arms crossed casually over his chest. he raises his hand in a small, lazy goodbye. you do the same, giving him a little wave and a shy smile before turning the corner.
you smile to yourself as you walk down the hallway with shaky legs, anticipation brewing in your chest as you think about when youâll meet again next wednesday in his classroom. you sigh, biting your lip as you think back to the point he was trying to get across to you. maybe philosophy wasnât so bad after all.
as much as it pains you to admit it, you actually did learn something valuable today in his class. not just about plato.
that vulnerability wasn't a weakness... maybe it was just your ticket to something better.
nierâs note đïž: right soâŠ. i really hope im not the only one thatâs thirsting over this leon mod because he looks DAMN GOOD. i mean he does anyways but he somehow got even hotter. also lowkey this was a self indulgent af cuz *cough cough* i have finals coming up soon and needed to⊠take the edge off. also lowkey fibbed a bit cuz i took phil last semester and it was easy peasy but for the sake of the plot i made it seem like reader was lost af. anyways, i hope you all enjoyed, and thank you for waiting ever so patiently for this blog update! probs gonna make a masterlist soon too bcus my fics are kinda getting lost with everything else on my blog. anyways, thank you for reading, as always! âĄ
summary: you and dante have a one night stand and he abandons you after, you later find out youre pregnant with his kid. years pass and he shows up to see if he still has a chance to make up and be with you and is shocked to find his daughter there instead. this is how you two make up
warnings: my shitty writing as always, dante might be ooc idk ive only ever written for him twice, takes place after dmc5, this is fluff with slight angst? lots of me yammering, dante being a silly needy desperate guy, dante is a mess but hes trying his best, uhh the daughter is an oc cause i didnt know what else to base her off of, no mentions of y/n, mom gets used a few times? but no other pronouns or skin color or anything is used to describe yall, i hope most of you can read it!
a/n: this was from a req on ao3, figured i should start getting these done, even though im still HEAVILY hyper-fixated on leon. wait for me slimes im trying my best!! i hope this is okay to read lol. likes, comments and rbs are appreciated! have fun!
You had met Dante, as Tony. Tony redgrave. You used to work at a bar he frequented, trying to make some money on the side whilst you got your degree. You two had grown quite close, you think you had intense feelings for him, and on a fateful night, you two slept together. In the heat of the moment, he had revealed his true name to you, cracking a joke or two (while still inside you, fucking goofball). The morning after, you woke to a cold bed, and Dante nowhere to be found. It broke your heart, but oh well. What can you do? (Other than mope around feeling used.)
If you had known you'd get pregnant from it, you might have just kept your legs closed, but you really loved your child, so you're not really sure if you'd actually change a thing from that night. (Well, you might've woken yourself up earlier to give Dante a throttling for daring to leave you like that and disappearing from your life.)
What followed was you freaking out of your goddamn mind, because you were pregnant and alone, just trying to get your damn degree. You didn't have the guts to go ahead and get an abortion, so you were âstuckâ going insane over being a mother in your early 20s. But giving birth to your little girl, Emilia was the most beautiful (and fucking painful) moment of your life and you wouldnât give her up for anything.
Stupid bastard kid had your eyes but his hair, and most of his features. She was in your goddamn womb for nine months, and she came out looking like a carbon copy of him! The audacity! But you adored her anyway.
She had grown into a gorgeous woman, though, still looking like him, strong and with a great sense of morality. You had always known Dante was special and you hoped your little girl wouldn't have inherited any of that, but alas, she did, and she really wanted to fight and protect the weak. She was so sweet, but she really had taken years off your life when she sat you down and told you that.Â
You had never tried to track him down, because, why would you? He had left you, cold and alone after the most intense sex of your life. Vanished off the face of the earth for all you knew. At first it was because of that resentment and fear that your child would be brought into dangers you couldn't comprehend nor protect her from, but over the years it turned into you being afraid of telling him. You knew you'd get an earful and possibly (metaphorically) get skinned alive if you just appeared in his life and told him he was a father. You were scared, selfishly so, and also, truthfully, really lazy and too busy to look for him. You didn't want him in your life if he was going to up and disappear without a word, you couldn't risk hurting your little girl's feelings like that.Â
Well, she was a little girl no more, but she'd always be your little girl, even if she could kick your ass without breaking a sweat. She was exceptionally smart, having gotten her own degree in microbiology and excelled in her field of work, whilst also fighting and protecting people from the few demon attacks that had happened where you two lived, together.
Your house was modest, and you were glad Emilia had chosen to live with you despite her age. You two had your routine and were really close, which made you happy that she trusted you like that. She never had complained about her father being absent, only having asked about him once when she was a teenager, to which you answered truthfully. Or, as truthfully as you could. You had told her that you weren't sure if he was alive, because he had left you after her conception and that you thought he was âspecialâ. She didn't press you on further details, which you were glad, because thinking about him always brought up that feeling of despair you got when you woke up that day.
Today was a day like any other, you were at work, and it was one of Emilia's rare off days, so she was at home playing video games. (Even smart people like her had to have a hobby!) There was a knock on the door, which she found peculiar as she paused her game and got up to open the door.
There stood a tall, older man, with white hair and blue eyes, who looked just as stunned to see her as she did him. She cleared her throat after a moment of surprise, âuhh, hello? Who are you?â
Now, Dante hadn't thought much about you over the years since he left you after that night. He had to not think about you, because if he did, he knew he'd go back to you in a heartbeat, and he didn't want you, a mere civilian, to get mixed up in his world. His very dangerous world. So in his head, leaving had been the best option. As soon as he realized he loved you it had been over. He was fucked. So he tucked tail, ran and tried his hardest to forget about you and that night. He only found you now because he thought that⊠Well, things were safe. He had his brother back, a nephew, too, but he didn't feel complete without you, he realized. So, he searched and searched and⊠found you.
He cleared his throat and blinked at this young woman, who was looking at him in irritation? She seemed to be in her 20s, and she had your eyes. And⊠white hair. Dante swore he felt dizzy as he looked at her dumbfounded. âHey there, you are?â
âIâm Emilia, now, who are you old man?âÂ
Dante huffed a laugh and combed a hand through his hair. She couldn't possibly be⊠his daughter, could she? That was a silly, silly thought. Surely not??? âDante.âÂ
âOookay edgelord, what do you want?â she asked once more, growing more and more irritated with how weirdly he was looking at her. As if she had grown a second head! She knew she hadn't!
Dante managed to ask Emilia if this was where you lived, which only made her more suspicious about him. âOh, mom? Yeah, she lives here. But she's at work now, should be home soon, why?â
âIm, ah, an old friend.â
Despite her suspicions of him, Emilia knew deep down. I mean, not many men had hair as white as this⊠Dante guy, and even then, this guy looked like her. Or to be more accurate, she looked like him. She invited him in to wait for you and tried to make small talk to gauge his personality.Â
You didn't take that long to get home. You had been so tired and just looked forward to getting home, eating and sleeping. You unlocked the door, looking down at your phone as you put your things away and muttered an âiâm homeâ to let Emilia know you were back. You hadn't even noticed Dante sitting on your couch looking at you like something had just clicked in his head.
âHey mom, your âfriendâ here decided to pay you a visit,â she snickers, because at this point? Yeah, she's sure this is her dad.Â
You look up from your phone in confusion, then, utter mortification, when you see Dante sat there looking like he owns the place. (Which you knew was him trying to be cool, he tended to do that back in the day when he was freaking out but trying to keep his persona up.)
All color had drained from your face and you were feeling extremely dizzy, âoh, fuck,â you manage to squeak out. Emilia laughs, and (you think, you were too out of it to be sure) says something about leaving you two to âcatch upâ before she makes a beeline for the door and leaves.
âUh. Hi,â you eventually say.
âIs she mine?â
Of course he would ask that first thing in. You sit down on the couch, mostly so you don't pass out and nod faintly.
All hell broke loose after that. No pun intended. You and Dante argued and argued and argued, for a good hour or so, about you having kept Emilia a secret. He said he had a right to know and be there for her, which had made you blow up at him, because he chose to leave after that night, how should you have known he'd want to be a present father? He hadn't even wanted to wake up next to you and deal with the conversation that would have come up that morning, why would he want to stick around for his kid? He had taken great offense to that (even though he knew you were right) and kept arguing his case. When you got up and all but threw a scrapbook in his face, decorated with âfor daddyâ in pink glittery letters he finally shut up and drew in a deep breath as he opened it and looked at the contents.
Emilia had kept that since she was a little girl, you had started it just in case you ever did get the guts to tell him, and she filled it with all her big moments, even now as an adult. It broke Dante. He wanted to be there to witness these things first hand. He hadn't. He knew he had to make up for all these years he missed out on his little girl's life. He never regretted leaving more than he did now. To be fair, he couldn't have known that you'd get pregnant, let alone have kept the kid, but he would still beat himself up over it. All these years lost, the highs and lows of his goddamn daughter's life. And he thought Vergil had been the deadbeat dad. At least he had an excuse for the absence. What did Dante have? He had been a coward and he didn't want you to be dragged into the mess that was his life, didn't want you to have to deal with the debts he had, the things that were after him, even Dante himself and how shitty his depression got. He wanted to keep you out of it, far away, somewhere you could be happy and unharmed, but it seemed that one choice he made in panic came back to bite him in the ass harder than any demon ever could. What a fucking joke.
After that, you two finally quieted down enough to have a decent conversation, where you told him more about Emilia and he finally cleared up details about his lineage to you. Your little girl's strength and irregular regeneration made a lot more sense, considering. He wanted to get to know her and be in her life. He promised he'd make the effort. You guess you would find out if you were right to trust him. When Emilia had returned from her walk, she didn't seem surprised when you two sat her down and told her that he was her father. Things felt like they were moving too fast for your liking, but she was a grown woman, so you trusted her to make her own choices. This was her dad afterall. The one, who, you knew that deep down she always craved to meet but never asked you for details because she didn't like how sad you got over it.
Over the next few months, the two had really hit it off, Dante hesitantly helping her train and teaching her how to control her demon powers better. It had been rough for you, you're not gonna lie, seeing how easy it was for him to be her parent, while you had struggled to be a good mom for her for so many years. Not that you were bad, but it had still been hard for you not to fall into despair when things got difficult. He had just shown up and it was like he never had been absent in the first place. You kept yourself busy and chose to put as much distance between you and Dante as you could, because you were still hurt and upset, and despite his apologies and efforts, that ache wouldn't go away. He was good at everything (except paying his bills), of course he'd be an amazing dad. Not that the two didn't have their disagreements, but still.Â
Lately he had been showing up more and more when you were home too, and tried to spend time with you, which you always managed to dodge and avoid with excuses varying from shitty to decent. He knew he had hurt you and that it wouldn't just be fixed from one day to the other, but he was starting to get really impatient. The original visit to you, before he found he had a whole ass daughter, was meant to see if things between you two could be repaired. If he still had a shot. He knew it was foolish to expect you to still be single after all these years, let alone want him, but he was nothing if not a (hopeful) fool.Â
Emilia had gone on a trip with her new friends, Dante's nephew, Nero, and a few of his friends, which meant you had the house to yourself. What a glorious day it would be! You first cleaned up a little, then treated yourself to a nice, long shower, and then it was time for you to sit back and pig out whilst watching movies. What could possibly ruin that?Â
A knock echoed across the room. You groaned, because who the fuck could it be at this hour?! Your first instinct was to ignore it, which you unsuccessfully did, because the offender kept knocking. You huffed in frustration and trudged to the door, seething. You yanked it open and barely held back an annoyed whine when you saw Dante, standing there with a pizza box in hand, smirking smugly at you.
âKnew you were in there. Câmonnn, let me in.â
You glared at him and stepped aside, "Emilia isn't here, you know?â
He stepped in, handed the pizza box to you and took his coat and shoes off, âoh, I know. What, can't a guy treat his other favorite girl to some pizza?â
âNo. And since when am I your âother favorite girl?ââ you scoffed and moved back towards the living room, set the pizza box down on the coffee table and sat down, before you took a slice out to eat. Dante had, of course, followed you and did the same.
âSince forever, of course!â
âRight, sure,â you said blankly. The audacity of this man frustrated you to no end.
âSooo, are you single..?â
You almost choked on your pizza bite. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and finished chewing before responding. â...Why?â
He groaned. Did you really have to be so evasive!? âJust answer the question!â
âNot until you answer mine,â you countered. Why was he even curious right now? Did he want to rub it in? That, what? You hadn't gotten over him, even after all these years, while he had moved on with someone else? Bastard man.
âBecause! I'm curious!â
âBut why! Why do you care?â
âI just want to know if I still have a shot!â
His outburst shocked you. That was so unlike him. A shot? At what?Â
You fully turned to look at him, your mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. He⊠wanted you?Â
Oh. Oh, fuck.
âCâmon, don't look at me like that! Answer the question,â he grumbled.
âMind your business,â you cleared your throat. You weren't about to make this easy on him. He had âghostedâ you, as your daughter would say. Why should you?
âOh, come on!â
âDonât you âoh, come onâ me,â you snarked. âWhat, do you think you can just waltz back into my life and have everything handed to you on a silver platter? Greedy old man.â
âHey! Firstly, I'm not old, just experienced! And secondly! That's not what I thought. I swear, I want this. I want you. I want to prove it to you, if you don't believe me. And I'll keep proving it to you even after you do. Just, gimme a chance, please?â
He was using that stupid puppy eyed expression that always had you folding back in the day. And he sounded like he really believed (and meant) what he was saying. He also really had been making an immense amount of effort with your daughter⊠Maybe you should⊠No. Nuh-uh. You got fooled once, you wouldn't be fooled again!
âIâm not convinced,â you say after a while.
âPretty please, baby?â
You leveled him with a serious look. He dropped the act with a huff and combed a hand through his hair in frustration.Â
âI didn't want to leave you, you know? I panicked. And bolted. Didn't want to bring you into the danger that was- no, is- my life. But I guess that didn't work out so well for me, eh?â
âUh-huh.â
âAnd I really am sorry for it. I should've been there for you, for⊠our daughter. But I wasn't. And I'll spend every day of the rest of my days trying to make up for that. So⊠please?â
âOkay, fine,â you said in exasperation. âI am single. Do with that what you will.â
He fist pumped the air in celebration. You rolled your eyes and tried to hide a smile. He was still a goofball, through and through.
Over the next few months, Dante had really been trying to âwooâ you. It was like he'd turned the dial up to eleven, constantly flirting with you, complimenting you, and, surprisingly, acting like a needy puppy when you two were alone together. You were still reluctant about this whole thing, but he really had been making a great effort, both with you and with your daughter. It had almost been a year since he walked back into your life and you can't lie⊠you had been really happy. Reluctant, but happy.
The amount of debts he had worried you, but he said he would âtake care of itâ which did little to actually reassure you, but it's not like you didn't have a house to live, so you figured you'd let him do as he pleased. Though, where he got the money to take you on dates was beyond you, but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, so!
Sometimes, however, you really worried about him and your daughter, this whole devil hunting business leaving you uneasy, but you also trusted Dante would protect her, if push came to shove. So you were (somewhat) reassured. You still couldn't help but worry, though.
These last few months, you had also met the rest of his friends. They seemed like wonderful ladies, you were glad they were in his life. And Vergil⊠you surprisingly got along with him well. He found how you interacted with his brother rather amusing, and you had also put him on classical music, which he appreciated a lot. Not that he didn't know of it, but it had been nice of you to treat him like just another guy rather than what he was. Those interactions between you, the love of his life, and his brother, really seemed to also please Dante, despite you two always ganging up on him, although he'd never say it out loud.
You had also ended up getting really, really fascinated by his devil form. You knew you were always a little weird in the head, but when you saw him transform into that for the first time, and your first thought being âI can take himâ really cemented that in your brain. But anyway! It had been a few really eventful months (almost a year) in your life since he chose to come back, and by now, you didn't mind. Emilia had also been having the time of her life, finally getting the big family you always knew she wanted. It made your heart full with joy and love. You were so glad Nero had been so accepting of her, taking her under his wing, even though he was a few years younger than her. It was sweet of him. He also seemed glad to have a cousin he could (somewhat) relate to.
What surprised you the most, however, was just how sweet Dante was with you. How smitten. Not that you were any better, but you still would pretend to be skeptical about him from time to time, if only to tease him when he was being a brat (affectionate).
He often would return from contracts he took covered in blood and stinking, and he always would insist you take care of him, which was adorable, for someone like him to trust you to see him vulnerable like that, when in the past, he wouldn't have been caught dead doing so. Your relationship with him definitely had blossomed into something that should've been from the start, but you guess, right person, wrong time? It certainly felt that way. But at least you had each other now and that's all that mattered.
would you mind writing Isaac x reader falling for each other while they make videos with tgc? maybee during ltlvc when they start seeing each other all sleepy and silly and they both think the other is cute like that :3 and maybe he ends up carrying her to bed or something
just a rlly shy romance, cute kinda thing yk! no pressure ofc ^^
ahhh thank you!!! ; this is so super cute, hopefully i can cook something good up for you! ; tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy!!
ISAACWHY ; delirious
summary ; during ltlvc, you and isaac start giving each other googly eyes while delirious and off zero sleep
warnings ; language, not following any ltlvc timeline idgaf
disclaimers ; super super short im sorry đ
word count ; 804
masterlist
"More Monster!"
"More Bangggg Energy!"
"What's up, brother?!"
"Shut up, Mom!"
"Silence from you!"
"You're cut off!"
Laughter erupts like a damn volcano. It truly is not that funny. You both know that. Nick and Tanner have been yelling at you that it isn't funny for over an hour now. But still, referencing and mimicking memes when surviving off zero sleep, energy drinks, and fast food, is peak fucking comedy.
"Peak comedy!"
"Peak?! Like the game?"
You notice Nick glaring at you from afar. Afar as in the couch. Like, five feet from where you and Isaac sit at his odd ass setup.
"Shut up, bruh!" Isaac exclaims, tossing an empty Monster can at Nick.
"The way I didn't say a single word," he laughs, tossing the can back.
You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him before he turns back to his anime. You look back at Isaac with a lopsided smile. He'd given up on the glasses and mask on camera, deciding that since it was the last LTLVC, he'd just spend hours and hours editing to blur his face out. Plus, it was hot as hell. He couldn't stand sweating in it anymore.
That being said, he'd taken notice of your inability to stop staring at him. He's not oblivious, even if he's drunk off a lack of sleep. He giggles, staring back at you.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" he asks, holding back the urge to add a 'baby' to the end of his question.
You feel your face flush as your stomach fills with butterflies. You try to play it off, leaning back in your desk chair. "Nothing."
"Mhm..." he hums, biting back a wide smile, "I think you're thinking about something in there," he replies, tapping your forehead with his index finger.
You feel a bit of boldness to reply something along the lines of 'yeah, how cute you are', but you dont have the balls in the end. You just sit there, staring at him, tracing his facial features with your eyes. You eye his curly hair tied back into a bun, fuck, he's just so goddamn pretty.
A small smile paints his face. His head is slightly tilted as he stares back at you, just taking in every piece of you, every piece of you that he adores and admires and loves.
Nick takes notice of the silence, fearing you may be falling asleep. He speaks before looking up, allowing you both ample time to return to normal human beings. "Focus! Who wants the money?"
"I do!" you exclaim, "I'm gonna pay bills and give money to stray cats," you smile, lips lopsided as you do.
"You're handing out cash to the stray cats?" Isaac questions with a laugh, admiring your tired eyes, "Buy food for them so they can't buy drugs."
You giggle, "Nooo, to a charity, dumbass."
Nick snorts. "Dude, you're so tired. Listen to yourself."
"No, I'm notttt," you grumble, slapping yourself down on the cold hardwood floor. You'd been sweating for so long. The floor feels like AC straight all over you. "I'm wide awake. Tanner isn't winning. Stupid Tanner playing Roblox."
Isaac and Nick chuckle, watching you roll over to press your face against the floor. Nick turns back to his anime while Isaac turns to his phone, doomscrolling for a while to try and give you some peace.
It's not for another ten or so minutes when Isaac realizes you've been pretty quiet. He nudges you with his foot to find no response. He does it again. Nothing.
He sighs before setting his phone down and kneeling down to your level on the floor. He rolls you over, discovering you're out cold, a light snore and everything. He snorts as he picks you up bridal style, planning to take you to bed.
Nick looks back at him as he raises himself to his feet. "Did they fall asleep?" he laughs.
Isaac quickly shushes him, then nods.
Nick raises his hands in defense.
Isaac continues his mission, carrying you up the stairs to your room to put you to bed.
He nudges your door open with his elbow, using the glaring light from the hall to locate your bed. He gently sets you down on your bed before pulling a light blanket over you to keep you warm once your body chills in your sleep. He rubs your shoulder before retreating to the door to close it behind him.
He has to go announce your elimination and do something about the broken AC, but it can wait a moment as he stands in the doorway. It's not a creept stare. it's a loving and longing stare. He just wants to make sure you adjust from floor to bed well. Plus, he thinks your fuckass snore is kinda cute.
sam headcanons because i love my gay husband âșïž
- heâs so close to abigail and sebastian to the point where they all just sleep in one bed whenever they have sleepovers, lazily draped over eachotherâor more accurately, sam and abby are draped over sebastian who always âgets saddled with in the middle.â
- he likes the end of the bed but when you entered the friend group (and inevitably joined the big sleepover party bed) he swapped to sleep in the middle with you , sandwiched between seb and abigail.
- doesnât outright cuddle with you but his chin will sometimes find its way on your shoulder as he leaves big and steady breathes on your collarâ not that you minded.
- who walks you home from the saloon after every friday night, since the day you got here. he says itâs because he thinks thereâs monsters that come out at night, but he isnât too sure because heâs never seen one himself, only heard tales from various older villagers.
âbetter safe than sorry, right? canât let a pretty face like that get hurt.â oh if only he knew about your cave adventures. also what did he say?
- blushes everytime you call him samson, because âshe just says it sexy. not like my mom says it.â is what he told abby while they were exploring the woods. âiâd sure fuckin hope so.â
- who frequently invites youâand the two other dummiesâ to dinner with his family. his mom, admitted or not, tends to feel lonely sometimes even with her two boys in the house, so; sam started inviting the group to have a big family dinner. he even does the dishes afterwards.
- who has been getting better at being fake-bad at mortal combat for your sake. youâre good, sure, but good enough to naturally beat sam? maybe if he was blindfolded and couldnât touch the controller whatsoever.
âwait- sam! i think im getting better!â you move to sit on your knees closer of the tv. âoh yeah?â he smirks from behind you as he continues to randomly mash buttons.
- he lets you sit inbetween his legs with your back against his chest while you cry, while he messes around with his guitar and talks with you. eventually you both fall asleep like this, him slumpt against the back board, holding you while you hold his guitar to make sure it doesnât fall off the bed.
- is so terrible at pool that he started paying abby (literally under the table) to distract sebastian while he quickly grabs a ball and places it in his pocket. âput it back, sam.â sebastian calls out, still looking at abigail. âhow the FUCK did you even see that.â
- takes his brother to zuzu city every few months so he can show him that theres more to life than the same 5 people the little one interacts with every day.
- who randomly comes over because he, âmissed your dogâ that he is so painfully allergic to. âoh boy, guad i⊠ACHOO! sure love plauying with you...good boyâŠ.â with awkward little taps on the bed
re9 leon s. kennedy x gen!reader â reader is same or similar in age to leon!
no warnings needed other than leon lowky sucks
word count : 1.1k
divorced!leon who expected dating to be a breeze. he knew he was a good looking-enough guy with a charm nobody could deny. but when it came to conversations? he was timid and limited. he beats around the bush when asked about his line of work. âI uh,, work for the government.â is the farthest heâs gotten before saying, âthatâs all i can really tell you.â
divorced!leon who misses the unspoken agreement: donât talk about work unless we need to. you both worked for DSOâgranted; completely different titlesâbut both of your jobs were unbelievably hard, and borderline mentally-corrupting job. you understood the needed distance between work and everything else.
divorced!leon who sits at home after each awkward and boring date with his face in his hands. cursing to himself as he slips his shoes off. his apartment is cold and bare, with minimal decorations and only the essential furniture. it was the final piece of the divorce. he didnât have much to begin with, so he didnât have much to take. although, he missed the cozy and lived-in home he shared with you. he just didnât know what heâd do to himself if he had to bare the house by his lonesome, so; he bought a boring, empty, lonely apartment.
divorced!leon who sips his black coffee in his cold kitchen the morning enjoying the silence but craving the company of you by his side each morning; holding his arm as you two joked and sleepily leaned on each other. he moves and sits himself on the couch, reaching for the blanket that was always conveniently thrown over the back. too bad leon never thought to buy a new throw blanket during the move. he sits on the couch cold, sighing and curling up slightly.
divorced!leon who now sips his beer in the crowded and warm bar, cursing himself for taking the silence that morning for granted. heâs been uncomfortably smiling at every hello handsome and are you here all by yourself thatâs thrown his way, holding up casual conversation that inevitably lead to the person walking off in boredom. eventually, an older woman, mid-late 40âs, sits side by side with leon.
divorced!leon who has been talking with the woman, jessica.. was it? maybe it was jenn. leon is a bit too drunk to remember, really.
âreally? i never wouldâve taken you for a movie guy.â she smiles and stirs her drink around with her straw. âwhat? do i really seem that boring?â he jokes. she says something in return, but you miss it as you catch a whiff of perfume. he got it for your one year anniversary, and youâve always worn and restocked it since he got it for you 20 something years ago. he whips his head around and scans the big pub looking for your familiar form, only to be disappointed when he ultimately couldnât find you. of course. because why would you be in a bar 45 minutes away from your home? (not that he was calculating it the entire drive..which he was) and why would he be worried about where you were? especially when he has a beautiful distraction woman face to face with him now, very obviously interested. âsorry, i thought i heard someone call my name.â
divorced!leon who manages to score a date with jenn-jessicaâhe still wasnât sureâthat he is unexpectedly nervous for. leon scott kennedy, 49, and nervous for a date.
it was going well, she didnât pry when he was very obviously not open to talking about certain parts of his life. she cracked jokes and laughed at his corny ones. she talked about her own life, her kids, and how her life was better now that she was out of her previous marriage. the two talked about getting out there again, and for the first time in a long time, leon felt heard without having to speak.
divorced!leon who reaches for the beautiful womanâs hand over the table, rubbing it gently. âthis was wonderful, y/n.â your name slips out before he can even think about what he was saying. âi..â is all he could mutter before she slowly slips her hand out from under his, uncomfortably clearing her throat.
divorced!leon who sits at the table alone for a half hour before finally taking his leave. how could he be so stupid? and the worst part? he wasnât even thinking about you. for a sliver of a second, he wasnât thinking about you. and you still managed to unintentionally creep your way back into his day-to-day, because god forbid he moves on.
divorced!leon who was now thinking of you ever since he got home. your warmth, your understanding, your beauty. fuck, he missed you so bad. rolling over and checking his dim phone; this screen reads 01:06 PM. he got back from his date around 8, and the moment he entered his houseâwhich was not loved enough to be called a homeâhe thought about you only. he was a wreck by this point, breathing uncontrollably and contemplating on whether or not to text youâto call you, even. he thought about all of your guysâ late night talks and how you were scared every night before he left for a mission, and how ecstatic you were whenever he was back. he thought about everything good and bad, about how he grew distant from you because of his job. he thought about your sweet and loving hand on his own, lip quivering while you told him everything you were feeling. the lack of passion, of love, the stand still.
he winced at the thought. he cannot believe he made such a stupid decision, letting you go so easily.
divorced!leon who hated thinking about you all by yourself. he remembers everytime he came home to find you curled up in a ball somewhere, usually in a corner of some sort, with puffy eyes and shaky hands. âyou were gone way longer than last time.â every. single. time.
divorced!leon who closes his eyes and doesnât give a second thought to what heâs about to do
divorced!leon whoâs knocking on your door an hour later with uneasy breathing and glassy eyes. you open the door for him to find you in a mirrored state. crinkled eyebrows, mouth agape, and cheeks wet with tears.
âlee..? what are you doing here?â your eyes flicker across the wrecked man, instinctively moving closer before stopping yourself. you havenât seen him in months. everything was the same, except the glaringly obvious feeling of dread that washed over his figure. his posture is tight, his eyes droop, and his mouth is trembling into a sorrowful arch.
âyouâre crying.â is all he says.
âso are you.â
hey thanks for reading all of it, hope you liked it :>
Pairing . Hermes!Leon S. Kennedy X Aphrodite!Reader!Plus Sized
Synopsis . Hermes!Leon S. Kennedy tries to get THE goddess of love, beauty and desire to fall for himâŠwill he succeed and what will it take?Â
One-shot:
Content . 18+ , Enemies to Lovers!Onesided  , Smut , DxD , Greek God Retelling , Lowkey Breeding , Praising , Spanking & Oral!M Â
Notes . THEIR SO HOT!!! Enjoy <3 Also, no YN or Names other than our boyâs.
Wordcount . 1,252Â
âAny chance you got an extra heart? Youâve stolen mineââÂ
âI'm far from in the mood.â She interrupted him. Paying him no mind other than those words.Â
He laughed, moving to stand in front of her throne. She never actually knew how he got into her estate, but he always found his way to disrupt her very peaceful life. She tries... keywords âtriesâ... to protect.
âFor THEE goddess of love⊠your personality isn't so lovely.â He moved to her side, looking over her scroll of blessings. Something he knows she takes pride in fulfilling.Â
She continued to ignore him as she went through the many blessings of her followers, but stopped short when his face closed in on her face.Â
âWhat do you want?â She snapped at him, finally giving him the attention that he's been âBeggingâ (In her words, not his) for.Â
âHe smiled, âJust checking in with my favorite goddess.â He gave back. She hated how he smiled at every sentence that he thought worthy enough to come from his mouth. She rolled her eyes.
âGo scheme somewhere else, Leon.â
She heard him sigh before the scroll was taken from her, then she was lifted off her throne and over his shoulder.Â
âYou know, princess, your bad attitude really does kill the vibe.â He moved without much protest from her, becauseâŠShe liked this. He fought her every way till she gave in. She hated his gutsâŠbut she loved his hands.
ââThen change that.â
â
âSo this is all I had to do to get your stuck-up ass to finally give in?â His hips angled into her, earning him a moan then a curse.Â
âS-Shut the fuck up-â A moan ripped from her as he slammed into her, his rough hands pushing up her plush thigh, opening her up to him as he watched how shiny she left his dick.
âWhy? I-I think I'm good at multi-tasking, No?â He didn't wait for an answer as he thrusted into her again, her nails digging into his thigh as she tried to catch her breath.
He shifted a bit, pushing her leg to her chest as he hovered over her face, watching her every facial expressionâŠeven the ones she tried to hide. He took in her flushed face, hair sticking to her face, and how she bit her lip to stop the crude moans. He didn't like that since he fully lowered himself over her, biting down into her neck. Her gasps were high and whiny.
âI-I told you not- godsâŠTo leave marksâŠâ Her words were babble as he kept fucking into her, his hands holding her in a position that had him hitting every groove her pussy held. The slooshes to skin echoed through her chambersâŠher servants always seemed to disappear when he was aroundâŠ
âFuck PrincessâŠâ he moaned into her neck, picking up his pace before pulling back and out of her. She whined at the emptiness before he grabbed her arms and forced her up. She stared up at him in a haze of lust and anger.
âWhat are you-â
âSuck.â She froze, confused as his angryâŠwet head came into view. Pressed into her breast all the way to her lips. She wanted to deny him, to fight him a little longerâŠbut his eyes pierced into hersâŠwith the same amount of heat that had her already sensitive area clenching for more.
âWhy should I? You broke into my home, and now you want me to please you?â She teased, egging him on, wanting more of the heatâŠwanting to see what the god of trade would give her.
His hands tightened around her plush arms, tilting his head with a crack, and stared down at her. She swallowed as she watched him plan out every way he was going to make her caveâŠand she fucking couldn't wait.
He removed one of his hands, bringing it to her jaw before propping her mouth open. He groaned at the sight, his dick coating her lower lip.
âOpen your mouth before I start coating more than your lips.â He moved, tapping his dripping tip on her lips. She opens wider, letting him sink into her lips. Cursing when she grazed her teeth on him.
She didn't move as she watched him flex his hips into her mouth, moaning as his free hand moved around her neck. Using it as support.
âLet's put a pretty little necklace around your throat, yeah?â He egged on, groaning as she started meeting him halfway. Her tongue cupped the underside of his dick as she watched his skin flex at every moment, closer to his release.Â
âFuck- You're such a good girl. Taking what I give you. No arguing- dammit.â
He pulled out, his hand still around her neck as his other moved to stroke himself, wanting to watch how she took him soaking her in his cum. Groaning at the last stroke as cum spilled from him in waves. Landing on her cheeks, lipsâŠbreast.Â
She sat there, letting him make a mess of her as he watched her. With one thing going through his mind.Â
â
I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOU FALL IN LOVEâŠEVEN IF I HAVE TO MAKE LOVE WITH YOU.
He wiped the cum from her cheeks, pressing it into her mouth as she greedily sucked the salty coat off his finger, keeping eye contact the whole time.
âFuck princess. You're going to be a fucking problem.âÂ
Keeping his eyes on her.
âBut one I'm willing to solve.â He said with a smile. Sitting back on his back legs. Pulling her into his lap as his hands found a place on her ass, squeezing the fat.
âRide me.â Simple. He slapped her ass to make her move, earning him a glare.
âWhat the fuck are you good for if you don't do anything?â She snapped, already over his petty games. But he smiled at her, slapping her again.
âRide me, my goddess. As I'm on your scroll.â She froze, staring at him before glancing at the discarded scroll on the table near the bed.
âWhat?â She looked back at him, wanting an answer. He moved, picking her up with him as he walked to the table. Sitting her down on it and handing the scroll. She read it, looking for his name, which was not-...
Scott L.Â
She looked at him, glaring.
âSo, since I'm on your list. I want you to ride me.â AgainâŠthat smile. She wanted to argue about him breaking the rules but then-
âUnless you want to fail a devoted man wishing for his favorite goddess?âÂ
She froze as those words hit her ears, gripping the scroll.
âFine.â
â
âFuck-â
Her words spilled from her as she fucked herself on him again and again, earning the nth orgasm of the night. His hands were on her waist, holding the plush fat around there as he helped her with each bounce. Cumming at the sight of her fucking body over his, how she would curse and cry at him, watching as she came over and over againâŠ
The last rock of her hips did it, shaking as the orgasm hit her, causing her to fall face-first into his chest. His own hips kept thrusting into her already spent body before finally cumming deep in her womb.Â
Both of their bodies slump, shaking and trying to catch their breath. Leon moved his hands to her hips again, keeping her plugged with his dick, his lips to her ears.
âI also prayed for fertility.â
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