⤷ 𝓷𝓼𝓯𝔀. guided & mutual masturbation. age gap. 𝟸.𝟾𝓀
smooth wood chills the backs of your thighs when leon sits you down right on the edge of his huge antique desk. your skirt fans outwards while your legs swing absentmindedly and your gaze follows leon across his office, watching as he shuts the curtains to hide you away from the loud outside world
there’s tension between his shoulder blades, you can see it pulling at his muscles through his white dress shirt and if you had to guess, you’d put it down to a tough day, rude students or difficult lectures, but you won’t ask him about it—not when you’re the key to making his day a little bit better
“spread your thighs,” he grumbles as he rounds his desk and flops down into his leather chair. his fingers tug roughly at his tie, his own thighs spread languidly and when he’s not satisfied with how far you part your legs, he frowns, “wider—yeah, just like that, sweetheart—now, touch yourself f’me,” he drawls, smirking
your eyes widen at his request and heat rushes to your cheeks, much to leon’s amusement. you can’t help it though, knowing that he’s able to see right up your skirt at the flimsy panties you have on and the small damp spot that has definitely seeped into the fabric after you spent his entire lecture fantasising about him
“how?” you whisper, feeling utterly filthy as your hand brushes up the inside of one of your thighs. tiny little bumps scatter over your skin with the soft touch and it sends a shiver right down your spine towards your already aching cunt, causing you squirm on the spot with anticipation
you know how to touch yourself but something tells you that it won't be as simple as he's letting on. leon touches you like you're his, like he owns you. he bruises you, marks you—always leaves you coming back for more—nothing is ever that simple with him and he confirms your suspicions straight away
“slowly—i’m gonna talk you through it,” he grunts and he leans forwards to slide his hand under the hem of your skirt before he flips it upwards to properly expose your clothed pussy, “leave them on, wanna see 'em soaked,” he says, eyeing your already very wet panties with fervor
the material sticks to your body, contouring and outlining your cunt from your perky little clit right down to your steadily dripping hole but you’re not struggling on your own because leon is failing to hide the thick bulge that's straining against the zipper of his pants as he grinds the palm of his hand over it
your own hand—the one that isn’t disappearing high up between your thighs—presses into the surface of the desk allowing you to lean back as your fingertips begin to ghost over your clit, prompting a current to fizzle up your spine and bathe your body in the sweetest kind of pleasure
“oh god,” you whisper, jaw slack and frowning slightly. your cunt clenches feebly around nothing while you go around in even circles that have a never ending wave of slick spilling from your hole, “l-like this, is this what you want?” you ask when you look up at leon, only to find him undoing his belt in a hurry
it’s wrong—so wrong—that you’re searching for praise from your professor. it’s addictive though, leon is addictive. he’s handsome and smart, much older than yourself and you can’t get enough of him and, well, he’s always so willing to praise you when you’re doing what he asks of you
“yeah—good girl,” he groans and bucks his hips upwards to shove his slacks down his thick thighs. his cock frees itself of its confines in the blink of an eye, standing stiff and leaking profusely as he takes it into his fist and starts to jerk himself off lazily, “keep up with me,”
you nod before you really realise that you’re doing it. you’re too busy ogling him and wishing that he would just lay you down and sink into your heat—fuck you well and good and take his frustrations out on you—but, you find yourself nodding and trying your best to do as he says anyway
leon makes no attempt to speed up or slow down his movements right away though, leaving the room to fill with the noise of your stuttered gasps and his rough grunts while it remains slow and drawn out. it’s not enough but too much all at the same time, the entire situation, his words, your fingers, everything makes you throb
more. you need more and until leon makes that decision for you, you’re stuck with less. you consider begging—he’d probably love that—but before you can blurt anything out, his fist shifts over his cock faster. it’s barely noticeable and maybe you’re just imagining it but you swirl your fingertips faster too
heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach and reaches right to the end of every single one of your nerves over the slight change. your eyes snap shut and the tip of your tongue gets trapped in a pinch between your lips all while your thighs twitch and stick together momentarily
you’re soaked now, sticky over the soft skin of your thighs and you’re not sure that your panties could get any wetter if you tried. the fabric has darkened and the friction of it against your clit starts to become overwhelming, forcing scratchy whimpers from the back of your throat as you wince
“take ‘em off now,” leon hisses as he swipes the pad of his thumb over his slit. you don’t ask how he knows what you were about to ask or how he was able to pick up on your discomfort before you did, you just do as he says and store your questions away in the back of your mind for later
hooking your thumbs under the straps of your panties, you shove them down your legs frantically. cool air rushes over your pussy and causes you to shiver as you kick your feet in an attempt to free your underwear from your ankles but in a flash, leon reaches out and snatches them up
he balls them up into his free hand, groaning internally when he feels how damp they are and then he drags open a drawer on his desk with a dull creak and drops your panties right into it before he slams it shut, “let me see that pretty little cunt, show her off to me,” he orders—as if he didn’t just steal your lingerie
it takes a second for your brain to process what you just saw him do but when he grunts impatiently, you move. the sole of your shoe squeaks against the edge of his desk as you pull one of your legs up until your cheek is almost grazing your knee and you’re spread wide, just for his viewing pleasure
you study him carefully, watching while his tongue darts across his bottom lip like he’s hungry for what he’s seeing. his cock tenses against his palm with want and blurts out a generous dribble of precome that slides down his length and over his knuckles, adding to the sheen that’s already there
gently, you use two fingers to stretch yourself even wider. a singular wet sound fills the otherwise quiet room as your needy hole pulls taut and the pool of slick that was building just inside of you starts to spill over and gush until it’s dripping into a little puddle on the top of his desk
it’s not the first time you’ve made a mess there—and it probably won’t be the last—but it doesn’t feel any less dirty, even though you know that leon will reassure you later that it’s completely fine and it definitely won’t create a stain, right before he murmurs that he wouldn’t even mind if it did anyway
“fucking hell—tease her,” leon growls, still focused on the futile clench of your pussy and the shiny trails that paint across your skin, “don’t touch inside—not yet—tease her like i do,” he adds and unfortunately for you, you know exactly what he means by that and exactly what he wants to see
the same two fingers that were baring your cunt for him slip lower and trace around the outside of your entrance at a pace that matches the stroke of leon's fist over his cock. you moan wantonly at the contact to where you’ve been needing it most this entire time and that seems to spur leon on
“faster angel, rub it—uh huh—like that,” he groans and squeezes lightly at his heavy balls with his free hand when you don’t need to be told twice. your fingertips drag desperate circles around your glistening hole, making your muscles tense and your hips roll in search for more, “lemme see how wet your fingers are,”
once again, you don’t need to be told twice but you whimper at the loss of contact while you hold your hand up in the space between your bodies. strings of slick connect your two digits, hanging and snapping as you part your fingers and then press them back together over and over again
“i want—no, need—more, sir,” you whisper and bat your lashes, knowing full well that calling him that will get you anything you want. leon is weak to it but only when it’s tumbling from the tip of your tongue and riddled with an innocence that you know he can’t ever say no to, “please,” you whine, for good measure
leon’s composure slips, just like you expected it to. his hips jerk and send his cock through his fist at a rate that makes his teeth audibly grind together, “shit—fuck—yeah, okay, just one finger though,” he grumbles the last half of his sentence when you giggle over getting the better of him and getting what you wanted out of it
“thank you, sir,” you quip and earn yourself a quick glare for it before his eyes flicker to where your middle finger is already sinking into the tight clutch of your body, eliciting a whimper to scratch in your throat as your head tips back and your teeth sink into your bottom lip
your walls squeeze around you, wet and soft, sucking your finger deeper in a moment of greed. your chest rises and falls in whiny pants while you draw your finger out slowly and then slide it back in. truthfully, it doesn’t feel half as good as when leon does it but it does the job when you’re so wound up
the spring in your stomach winds, pulling at your spine until it arches enough to press that soft little spot that’s deep inside of you into the pad of your finger, “oh my god,” you shudder and indulge yourself in the feeling, rubbing ever so gently over it in the way that leon taught you how to
“feel good?” leon asks roughly. his chair starts to creak monotonously and it piques your interest, bringing your half lidded gaze to him. the noise is caused by his hips jackrabbiting upwards, fucking his cock through his own hold with reckless abandon while you nod at him, “yeah, i bet it does sweetheart,”
his words make you gasp and before you know it, you’re plunging your finger into your body to keep up with him. it feels impossible to even try, his hand is flying over his length with filthy slick sounds that echo the ones coming from between your thighs but you’re moving on pure instinct and it feels just right
“fucking—god—prettiest little thing i’ve ever seen,” leon groans and maintains a level of eye contact that makes your face burn red. he’s not interested in watching you fuck yourself right now. no—he wants to see pleasure painting across your face, the twitch of your brows and the silent oh that your lips gets stuck in
it’s depraved in its purpose, meant to make you feel like you’re putting on a show for him and you are. the more you think about it, the more your pleasure seems to build with him watching and getting himself off to you—like he’s unable to fulfill that need when you’re not around to satiate it
any words that you want to say, curses or begs for something you don’t even know that you want yet, die somewhere between the air in your lungs and your mouth. cotton wool fills the free space in your head, suffocating your brain so that there’s only leon and a sense of euphoria swimming through your veins
but, of course, leon knows that. he’s smart, academically and seemingly when it comes to you. it’s as if he can see your thoughts, your desires, and they must be enticing enough because within the space of a rather sluggish blink of your lashes, he goes from sitting in his chair to hovering right up over you
his free hand winds around your throat, not pressing but just holding you while he forces you to look up at him. your eyes soften with him right there, you can feel it happen and you can’t find it in yourself to be even the slightest bit embarrassed about it as tears start to prick at your waterlines
“my favourite angel,” leon sighs as he dips closer to lick along your bottom lip. he’s not kissing you, more just marking you than anything else, “gonna add another finger for me—give her what she wants before i do?” he hums, smirking something awful as you react to the fact that he’s going to fuck you afterwards
“yes—ohmyfuckinggod—yes,” you cry out and start to work a finger alongside your middle one before your body is prepared for it. the ache is welcomed though, the stretch is delicious, and if you weren’t struggling to think, you’d wonder how leon always knows when you’re ready for more
however, more can’t come soon enough for you. under leon’s heavy gaze and with his fingers stroking softly over the sides of your neck, paired with you being able to fuck yourself properly—finally—your orgasm starts to simmer throughout every part of your body
you’ve never been able to make yourself come like this, not this fast. leon can and he always does, whether it’s over his tongue, because of his fingers or around his cock. he can push you to the edge and right off of it before you can even realise it’s happening and now, he’s doing it without really touching you at all
somewhere distant it registers in your mind that he’s stopped touching himself too. he has a hand around your neck, his thumb brushing over your drooly chin, and his other hand slides over yours where it’s pressed into his desk, his fingers intertwine with yours and it’s because of that simple gesture that you’re done for
tears slide down your cheeks and sobs rip through your body. you’re incapable of doing anything that isn’t ruining yourself for leon’s entertainment. you try to tell him that you need to come, that you’re going to come but nothing comes out that he can understand—or, so you think
“you’re gonna come, huh?” he asks, his voice dripping with warmth and honey but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s teasing, “oh my sweet girl, already?” he pauses to lean in and kiss the tip of your nose, “just needed it so badly—i know—you can come for me angel,”
on the next thrust of your fingers, a fire unleashes in your stomach. white bursts behind your eyelids as you clench them shut and then fireworks explode to replace the white, hot, sensation. you’re choking on your moans, stuck halfway between crying and trying to scream, which leon fixes in an instant
his lips slot over yours like he was made for you, swallowing your noises and coercing you to breathe whilst he mumbles soft praises that you can’t distinguish against your mouth. heaviness overtakes your limbs, your fingers practically fall out of your wrecked pussy with a wet pop before you sag in leon’s hold
the coolness of his desk brings another chill to your skin as he lays you down carefully and slots himself between your thighs. his large hands grasp at the back of your thighs and his fingertips dimple into your sweat and slick damp skin as he pushes your knees towards your chest
he half smiles and half smirks down at you when you blink up at him through tear soaked lashes. he’s in a far better mood than he was when you started, which means that you’ve done your job perfectly and now, as the blunt head of his cock starts to split you open, it’s time for him to do his
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!
you know that trope where it’s princess + knight, but they’ve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because he’s thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?
Been thinking about Leon meeting his younger self right after he lost his family and struggling to tell him that things will get better because things, in fact, did not get better…
this just in. i cannot concentrate at work because all of my brain space is being dedicated to leon goddamn kennedy and the situations in which i want to put him in. pissed off. more at noon.
dededos
prguitarman
romaincrisis
gummygunk
discoholicmusic
stormborns
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
