永遠の昇天

[xiaoverse]

pretty boy, natural blood-stained blonde.

🎐— NIKI! twenty four. she/her. irregular posts. masterlist.

not spoiler free! anti-ai. i just post drabbles when inspiration strikes. multi. genshin america server. ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

WORKS PROPERTY OF @XIAOVERSE. please do not repost.

[cametoile]

analogy for the blind ☆ leon s. kennedy

✮ synopsis: you thought ‘philosophy: yesterday and today’ 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 philosopher’s rhetoric can truly be…

✮ 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

✮ 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 semester— 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.

‘see me after class to discuss your grade.’ 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.” 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, notes— if you even have any— 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 you— 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 didn’t 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 can’t 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 isn’t forcing you to feel the vulnerability the prisoner experiences when he’s dragged out of the cave, we’re 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 planned…?

“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 hot— 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 couldn’t 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 fingers—warm and steady—push 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 now—the 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 he’s 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 couldn’t deny how turned on you were right now.

“or maybe…” 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. “that’s it. that’s 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 doesn’t 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 finally—finally—touch 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 perfect—hot, 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 you’re forced to look up at him while he finger-fucks you.

"just had to get a peek, hm?" 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 kennedy’s mouth claims yours like he’s 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 can’t hold back, while his fingers keep fucking into you with that same relentless rhythm—slow, 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 it’s 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 it—loved 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 it— 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'm—"

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 you’re 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 kennedy’s 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 you’re 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 doesn’t speak right away, instead, he lets the silence stretch, drinking in the sight of you — 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 he’s pressing against your cervix. you’re 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, leon’s 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... that’s 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. “oh— 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 doesn’t slow down for even a second. "shit... look at that..." he says, gazing down at the mess you'd made on his cock. "you’re 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 can’t 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. you’re still cumming. or maybe it’s a second orgasm crashing on top of the first— you can’t even fucking tell anymore. all you know is that your vision is white, your mouth is open spilling continuous broken moans, and your cunt won’t 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. “that’s it…” he growls, voice dark and possessive. “you’re 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 doesn’t 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.

you’re 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, it’s too much—!” 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. you’re 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, professor— i can’t.. i’m.. gonna—"

“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, that’s 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 doesn’t 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 doesn’t last. leon’s 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.

“you’re 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, sweetheart— 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 he’s 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 he’s 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 girl,” 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, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, but softer than it’s 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. “…i didn’t think i could… that i would…” 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 fond 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 couldn’t believe your situation right now. it was so wrong, but maybe that’s what made it so good.

“because no one’s ever taken the time to push you properly,” he says gently. he tilts your chin up again so you’re looking at him. “you’re 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, “i’m 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. “you’re 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 i’m 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. “…you’re... 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, you’re seriously bringing up the reading assignment right now?” you say, a little embarrassed as you think about the reading you’ve yet to start on.

professor kennedy’s smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction far too much. he gently pulls you back against him, voice dropping into that smooth, authoritative tone you’re becoming dangerously familiar with. “i’m still your professor, sweetheart,” he says, lips brushing your ear. “and you’re still my student. plato doesn’t 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 door’s 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 don’t 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. “i’ll 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. “that’s 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 he’s still there — 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 you’ll 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 wasn’t 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.

© cametoile ♡ + ↻

nier’s note 🗒️: right so…. i really hope im not the only one that’s 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! ♡

[shymoob]

Saw this mod and had to draw it

[aquasprings]

∘₊✧ and if your roommates were nerdjo and nerdcho..? ✧₊∘

p2 here !!

at a glance, your roommates are sweet enough. satoru always does the dishes and he’s very diligent in helping you with your homework. choso’s quieter and keeps to himself, mostly, and he always speaks you in a soft voice and lets you wear his hoodies.

honestly. you couldn’t ask for a better pair of people to share the rent with.

it’s just…sometimes, things feel a little strange.

it’s not something you can name, exactly. just like earlier today, when you told them you were going out and wouldn’t be back until much later. you were dolled up, in a cute little dress and heels to match, and said in that sugary voice of yours that you were clubbing with your friends.

the second the door shut, choso and satoru stood in the living room awkwardly.

thick, awkward silence fills the space, and neither of them lookat each other.

“i have work,” choso says abruptly.

“yeah,” satoru replies just as quickly. “me too.”

they split in opposite directions like magnets repelling, footsteps just a little too fast to be casual.

doors click shut.

your words and you in that dress swirl through satoru’s mind the second he collapses onto his bed, hand already shoved down his pants, palming desperately at his boxers. he presses the heel of his other hand to his eyes, groaning under his breath, and spits into his palm, the wet schlick of his fist wrapped around his cock filling the room.

choso’s diving headfirst for his pillow, burying his hand in the case to pull out a pair of panties - your pair of panties - he’d stolen borrowed out of your laundry basket a few days ago. dark blue and lacy, and he pictured you wearing them under his favourite hoodie on you. the hoodie he had on, that still carried the faint scent of your perfume. he bit down on his hand and moaned as he brought the lace to his hard, leaking cock, the fabric rubbing against it in a way that made his toes curl.

satoru never lasted long when he jerked off thinking about you. choso was lucky to last two minutes with your panties in his mouth and on his cock.

and you, unsuspecting as ever, always come home with your heels dangling from your fingers, lazy smile etched on your face.

satoru and choso always make sure you drink water, make you eat before carefully wiping your makeup off and looking away, faces red, as you change into your pajamas.

the both of them guilt-trodden for their actions with your name spilling from their lips.

neither of them realize they’re losing their minds in exactly the same way.

[halbravd]

this isn’t a hear me out this is a HOLD ME BACK

[gyarujo]

呪術廻戦 › nerd!jo hates your energy drinks SFW. fluff fluff fluff + nerdy chem stuff. very self-indulgent

satoru loves you so completely it feels like a fundamental law of his universe, as unchangeable and indisputable as gravity, polarity, and einstein’s theory of general relativity.

but he hates your energy drinks with an intensity that rivals his love for you

he hates the garish colors of the cans, the aggressive branding, the chemical-sweetness that clings to you after you’ve had one. and most of all, he hates what they do to you.

he hates the subtle tremor in your hands that you try to hide by shoving them in your pockets. he hates the way your eyes dart around, unable to settle on one thing for too long, he hates the slight spike in your heart rate when he presses his ear to your chest, a frantic rhythm that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the caffeine coursing through your veins.

sometimes, late at night when you’re curled up against him, he’ll trace your face with his fingertips and think about all the articles he’s read, all the studies about cardiovascular health and the long-term effects of chronic caffeine consumption.

he finds himself terrified because he loves you too much to watch you slowly poison yourself, even if it’s in the name of productivity.

when satoru finds you in the kitchen each morning, he doesn’t even have to look up to know what you’re holding. he just knows, and his jaw tightens

“another one?” he asks, he’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at you like you’re about to drink a vial of poison.

you take a deliberate, long sip, the sugary, chemical taste coating your tongue. “good morning to you too, ‘toru.”

he pushes off the doorframe and walks over, snatching the can from your hand before you can stop him. “do you even know what’s in this? do you even know what taurine is?”

“does it matter?” you groan, reaching for it to no avail. standing at well over six feet, he holds it out of your grasp effortlessly.

“the artificial sweeteners in here,” he starts, already in lecture mode, “the obscene amounts of sucralose and acesulfame potassium in these is what’s making your stomach hurt all the time. it’s altering the composition of your intestinal bacteria and making you bloated”

you rub your temples, a dull throb already starting behind your eyes. “i know, toru. you’ve sent me seventeen articles about it this week alone.”

“have you read any of them?” he queries, a frown tugging at his lips

“i skimmed,” you admit, trying to grab the can again. he’s too fast, “your fearmongering makes me anxious”

“no sweetheart, that would be the caffeine stimulating your central nervous system and triggering your adrenal glands to pump out cortisol and adrenaline. think about how many milligrams of caffeine are in each can. every time you crack one of these open you’re forcing your body into fight-or-flight”

satoru finally looks at you, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly. his blue eyes are filled with concern that makes you feel guilty. “baby, the long-term effects on your cardiovascular system are terrible. you’re increasing your blood pressure, elevating your heart rate, and putting yourself at risk for arrhythmias. . . especially when you drink them like water. you’re torturing your nervous system”

you sigh, leaning against the counter, the exhaustion already creeping in despite the caffeine you just consumed. “yeah well, i can barely function without them. what am i supposed to do?” you ask, your voice sounding smaller than you’d like. “i have too much on my plate, i can’t just stop drinking them.”

“i worry about you,” he says simply, and the sincerity in his tone makes your heart squeeze. “i hate seeing you like this”

his fingers trace your jawline, and you lean into his touch despite yourself. “i just need to get through the day,” you whisper.

“i know, baby, i know” he says softly. “but we can find something that doesn’t slowly poison you like a matcha latte or black tea”

you smile up at him. “only if you make it for me.”

he grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “deal. but no more of these,” he says, tapping the offending can. “they’re all going in the trash.”

you know he’ll probably follow you around all day to make sure you don’t buy another one, and you know you’ll have a headache by noon, but as he pulls you into a proper kiss, you find that you don’t really mind. for once, it’s okay to let someone else take care of you.

“sit down baby.” he murmurs softly, “i’ll make you a matcha latte, and if you hate it, we can try something else tomorrow morning”

© GYARUJO 2026. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites. do not feed to ai

[frazzled-soul]

Perfect nose scrunch 👀

by village_firefly

[cametoile]

show-off ☆ leon s. kennedy

✮ synopsis: what leon thought was going to be a cute night in with you relaxing in front of the tv quickly spirals into something more intimate.

✮ warnings: female reader + masturbation, penetration, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl, etc.), fingering, power dynamics, light bondage, hair pulling, language, explicit smut, unprotected sex, creampie, this has absolutely no plot lmfao, kinda fluff at the end

✮ word count: 7.1k

leon's eyes were practically burning into your form that sat next to him on the couch, the cheesy sitcom you'd lazily picked out to watch together long forgotten as both you and leon's attention turned to... other matters. the quiet, faint sounds of laughter echoing from the television was practically white noise at this point. neither you nor leon gave a shit about the television anymore. you were the real show.

your back was pressed against the arm of the couch, the dull ache on your spine hardly detectable anymore. your focus was on the bundle of nerves trapped between your slim fingers, legs spread wide for leon as he watched in disbelief. your fingers circled your clit in teasing, slow movements, heart thumping in your chest as you felt heat pool in your lower abdomen. the oversized shirt you'd expertly stolen from leon's drawer had ridden up your hips, pooling right below your breasts and exposing the slick shine that dripped from your fluttering slit.

you kept your movements slow and deliberate, letting him see every lazy stroke, every time your fingers dipped lower to gather more wetness before returning to your sensitive bundle of nerves. a soft, breathy sigh left your parted lips as you spread your legs a little wider, a sight to behold. one foot was planted on the soft cushion beneath you, the other dangling off the edge. you could hear leon breathing heavily next to you, already a sign that he was very turned on. you didn't look at him at first, only let the weight of his stare egg you on as you continued your ministrations.

"fuck..." leon's voice was low, rough, almost strained as he felt the tightness in his pants become damn-near painful. he'd all but forgotten the name of the show you'd switched the television to, as he'd stopped caring as soon as he heard your soft moans echoing next to him. when he turned his attention from the TV to you, he had to do a double take when he saw you spread out so brazenly next to him.

he never moved from his spot, but his hands were clenched into fists on his thighs. his grey sweatpants did nothing to hide the obvious erection you'd given him, cock twitching in his pants as he watches you play with your glistening cunt.

you finally tilted your head, hungry eyes meeting his in a lazy, teasing smile. "you know, lee, it's rude to stare. at least take me out to dinner first." you joke, eyebrows pulling together as you press two fingers past your aching folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, teasing leon further as he watches you intently. you could feel his stare like a physical weight, and it only made you bolder.

wet, obscene sounds filled the relatively quiet room as your fingers sank deeper, curling slightly before you dragged them back out slowly, spreading your slick over your swollen clit. your hips bucked at the feeling, fingers circling the sensitive bud faster as you mewl from the pleasure.

leon scoffs, jaw clenching so hard you swear you saw the muscle jump. "funny. you’re the one spreading your legs and fucking yourself on my couch right now, and i'm the rude one?" he chastised, brow arching at the conflict of interest.

if there was one thing leon loved about you, it was your spunk. you dared him, challenged him when everyone else practically scrambled to their knees before him (although you had been on your knees for him at one point), but you didn't. sure, you respected him, but you were competent, aware of yourself. and you were certainly aware of leon's bulging erection in his sweatpants.

you couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up, even as your fingers kept moving in circles over your clit. “oh, i'm sorry,” you drawled, voice dripping with mock innocence. “did i interrupt your very important staring contest with the tv?” you smirked, eyes locked onto his as you challenge him, watching his expression shift to a darker, more serious one.

leon’s eyes narrowed at your attitude, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smirk. he knew he was going to absolutely ruin you once he finally gets you to shut up. his gaze dropped again, watching intently as you dipped two digits back inside yourself, fingering yourself slowly so he could hear every slick sound. he shakes his head in disbelief at your antics, a scoff leaving him as he watches you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt.

"you enjoying yourself?" he muttered sarcastically, voice low and rough. his hands stayed fisted on his thighs, but the way his cock strained against the grey sweatpants told you everything. the fabric was obscenely tented, the head of his dick pressing visibly against it, a small damp spot growing where he was already leaking. as much as leon hated to admit it, he enjoyed you challenging him. nothing turned him on more than you thinking you had the upper hand, only for him to fuck the attitude out of you later.

"mhm," you hummed breathily, spreading your legs a little wider, giving him an even better view. "especially since you’ve been sitting there like a statue like you're not dying to get a taste." you tease, biting your lip as you as you studied his expression. you were playing him like a flute, testing the waters to see just how far he'd last before breaking. unbeknownst to you, leon was planning to do the exact same thing— that is, when he puts a stop to your antics.

you knew exactly what you were doing to him. you loved to watch leon get all riled up like this, as leon rarely— if at all— lost his composure. he was a patient man, but he had his limits, and you were more than willing to deal with the consequences of poking the bear.

he raises his brows even higher, a dark chuckle leaving his lips, “bold assumption.” he says plainly, eyes glued to the sight of you pleasuring yourself. he licked his lips subconsciously, as if imagining how you'd taste as he watched your cunt clench desperately, sticky arousal coating your fingers.

“am i wrong?” you pout wryly, pulling your fingers out with a wet pop. you held them up, letting the light catch how shiny they were before slowly licking them clean, eyes never leaving his. "'cause the way i see it, you look like you're about to snap." you tease, tongue running up your deft fingers as you monitor his expression.

leon's breath hitches at that, a sharp, audible sound that cut through the now quiet room. his chest rose and fell heavier now, the sight of you tasting yourself so shamelessly making his cock throb against the material of his sweats.

"fucking tease," he muttered, voice strained and low, almost broken. he was close to his breaking point as he watched you touch yourself in front of him, hands clenching on his thighs so hard his knuckles turned white. "you really wanna play this game?" he warns, eyes dark and dangerous as they dragged over your spread thighs and glistening cunt before returning his gaze to your face, a playful expression gracing your features.

you grinned, slow and wicked, still holding his gaze while you lazily circled two slick fingers over your swollen clit. “why not, lee? you’ve been staring like you want to devour me for the last ten minutes. i’m just helping you make up your mind.” you giggle, biting your bottom lip as you tilt your head in mock innocence. you loved this, loved to see him get so bothered, and you just knew he was about to lose his goddamn mind.

leon nods sardonically, as if he'd been weighing his options in his mind for a while now. he let you have your fun teasing him, thinking you were in control, but soon you'd realize your place. and he was about to remind you.

the second leon pushed off the couch and started moving towards you, you saw the shift in him. you didn't get the chance to say anything else before he was on you in an instant. you instinctively rose from your spot on the couch, planning to tease him further by leaving him high and dry. leon, of course, had other plans for you. his large hand planted firmly on your chest and shoved you back against the couch cushions with just enough force to make your breath catch. your back hit the fabric with a soft thud as he loomed over you, caging you in with his body.

“game over, baby.” leon whispers, voice dark and rough, head tilted to the side as he stalks you like prey. you tried to push yourself up on your elbows, a teasing smirk still playing on your lips, but leon’s hand stayed firm on your sternum, holding you down. “uh-uh. stay down,” he ordered, pupils dilated as they raked over your exposed cunt. “you wanted me to snap, right? well, congratulations baby, you win.”

there was no real anger in his tone, just that knowing, cocky edge he always carried. like he was both annoyed at how easily you could unravel him and already committed to the fact that he was about to ruin you for it. he was confident in his ability to put you in your place, so he really didn’t bat an eye at your snarky comments. he leaned in closer, breath hot against your ear as his free hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider.

"hope you had your fun," he teases, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek as he pushes your thigh up to your chest. leon’s chuckle is low and dark against your neck, the sound vibrating through you like a promise as he pulls back just enough to look down at you. his pupils are blown wide, turning those familiar blue eyes almost black with hunger. the hand on your sternum stays firm, pressing you deeper into the couch cushions, while the other inches closer to your exposed cunt. "'cause i'm about to have mine, sweetheart."

before you can begin to think of another smart retort, leon's fingers brush lightly against your sensitive clit, making you jolt at the sudden stimulation. it's barely there, just the pads of his fingers dragging in a feather-light circle over the swollen bundle of nerves. a sharp, needy gasp falls from your parted lips, almost pathetically as his fingers travel down to your slit.

“fuck—” the word comes out breathier than you’d like, your resolve flickering for a second as you come back to your senses. you tilt your chin up, forcing a lazy, challenging smirk even as your thighs tremble. “that’s… that’s all you got? i could do better than tha—” he cuts you off with another slow, teasing stroke, this time pressing just a fraction firmer, circling your clit with maddening precision.

the wet sound of his fingers sliding through your arousal is obscene in the quiet living room, and your back arches hard against his palm on your sternum. leon’s eyes stay locked on your face, drinking in every twitch, every flutter of your lashes, that knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"yeah, thought so," he murmurs, voice low and amused. his fingers dip lower, fingers prodding at your wet slit, never fully pressing inside. he gathers the slick that's practically pouring out of you now, then drags it back up to your clit in lazy, torturous strokes. "barely even touched you yet." he comments, and you glare up at him as he continues drawing those teasing, slow little circles into your swollen clit.

you scoff, nails digging into the couch cushions beneath you as you retort, "very funny, leon. i'm sure you're real proud of yourself right now." the words come out sharp, but there’s a breathy hitch at the end that betrays you, your hips twitching up into his touch despite the glare you’re trying to hold.

leon’s smirk widens into something darker, more predatory. “oh, baby,” he drawls, voice dripping with mock sympathy as his fingers keep up those maddening circles, slick sounds filling the room with every lazy pass. “you're dripping all over my fingers, and you still can’t stop running that mouth, huh?” he presses two fingers inside you without warning— deep, thick, curling hard against that spot that makes your back arch violently against the firm press of his palm on your sternum.

the stretch burns so good, your walls fluttering greedily around him as he pumps them slow and deliberate, palm digging hard into your clit. you bite down hard on your lower lip, eyebrows knitted together as you fight the urge to moan. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, at least not yet.

“you’re such... an ass sometimes,” you manage, voice cracking when he scissors his fingers wider, stretching you open. you didn't mean it, he knew you didn't mean it, but you loved the banter all the same. “you know exactly what you’re doing." you say weakly, cunt gripping his fingers impossibly tight as you struggle to keep up your act.

"yeah, i do," leon replies flatly, an amused smirk gracing his features as he stares down at your shaky form. "and you’re soaking my couch because of it." he emphasizes the point by curling his fingers deeper, pressing firmly against that spongey spot inside you while the heel of his palm grinds slow, heavy circles against your swollen clit. the wet, obscene sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your dripping cunt fill the room, loud and filthy. your slick is everywhere— coating his hand, dripping down between your ass cheeks, darkening the fabric of the couch cushions beneath you.

you let out a shaky, frustrated breath, hips twitching up against his hand as you force out another retort, "god, you're so fucking... cocky." you grit out, attempting to grind your hips against his palm before he quickly shoves your hips back down.

he chuckles, low and rough, eyes never leaving your face as he watches every twitch, every flutter of your lashes. he knows he's already got you exactly where he wants. "yeah?" he asks sarcastically, fingers caressing the small bump of your g-spot. "keep talking, baby. i’m counting how many times i can make you eat those words."

the pressure builds fast, hot and tight in your belly, but he keeps the pace just slow enough to keep you teetering right on the edge. every time your walls start fluttering harder around him, every time your breathing turns into short, desperate pants, he eases off just a fraction. it’s just enough to have you reeling, but never enough for you to be satisfied.

“leon…” your voice came out tighter than before, the edge of your attitude starting to fray. “you’re being such an ass. if you’re gonna keep teasing, at least make it worth it.”

he chuckled, low and dark, leaning in so his breath brushed your ear. “make it worth it?” he slowed his fingers deliberately, dragging them almost all the way out before sliding back in deep and slow. “you seriously think you’re calling the shots here? that’s real cute, baby." you shudder, the deep baritone of his voice sending shockwaves straight down to your dripping cunt, clenching around him involuntarily.

your head fell back against the armrest, a quiet, annoyed groan slipping out as the pressure built higher and higher without release. “fucking tease,” you muttered, eyes narrowing up at him. “you get off on this shit, don’t you?” you seethe, becoming more agitated by each passing second of his teasing. you knew he wouldn't stop until you broke under him.

“damn right i do,” leon admitted without shame, curling his fingers again, harder this time. his palm pressed more firmly against your clit, grinding in tight, controlled circles that made your hips jerk. “love watching that smart mouth of yours start to fall apart.”

he kept you right on the edge like that for what felt like forever— bringing you so close your walls fluttered desperately around his fingers, your breathing turning into short, needy pants, only to ease off at the last second. every time you thought he was finally going to let you cum, he pulled back just enough to leave you aching and frustrated.

“fucking hell, leon… come on,” you finally breathed, voice whiny and cracking with frustration. your fingers dug into the couch cushion, nails scratching at the fabric. “this is bullshit." you huff out, glaring at him in annoyance and a hint of desperation.

leon’s eyes darkened with triumph. he could see it— the exact moment your stubbornness started to crack, the way your glare softened into something needier. “you ready to be my good girl now, baby?” he asks, voice thick with lust as he stares down at you. “keep going. 'cmon, tell me what you really want.” he commands, fingers pressing impossibly deeper as he curls the digits upwards. you moan involuntarily, head falling back on the armrest of the couch as your eyebrows pull together in pleasure.

leon wanted to see you break. he loved the way it made him feel when you finally submitted to him, that slow, inevitable shift from the sharp little comments and defiant glares to soft, desperate whimpers and trembling thighs. there was something deeply satisfying about watching your stubborn pride crack under his hands, knowing he was the one who did it.

you try to keep up the act, but it’s slipping fast. your hips twitch involuntarily against his hand, chasing more even though you’re trying to act like you’re not falling apart.

“fuck…” the sound slips out before you can stop it, raw and needy. your eyes flutter shut softly, biting your bottom lip to try and contain your moans. your hips twitch up again, chasing the pressure even though you’re still trying to keep some shred of dignity. deep down, you knew you'd already lost this little game you started, “leon… you’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

leon’s gaze stays heavy on your face, drinking in every tiny reaction — the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth sink into your lip, the way your hips keep rolling up into his hand despite your efforts. his voice comes out low, almost gentle, but there’s no hiding the dark satisfaction underneath.

“yeah,” he says simply, curling his fingers again in that slow, deliberate way that makes your toes curl. “i am. you started this, and i'm finishing it, baby.” he adds a third finger, pushing in deep and thick, stretching you open with a wet sound that makes your cheeks burn.

his thumb keeps dragging those slow, torturous circles over your swollen clit, never giving you quite enough, but never letting you come down either. you whine, letting out a shaky breath, the last scraps of your attitude crumbling fast. you were so damn desperate to cum you didn’t even care anymore. “fine… fuck, leon, i want it,” you admit, voice hoarse and cracking. “i want you. stop teasing me already and just... please just fuck me.”

a dark, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. “there’s my girl,” he murmurs, finally giving you more. his fingers move faster, deeper, curling hard against your g-spot while his thumb presses firm, tight circles right on your clit. “wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smiles, moving his hand that was pressed against your chest down to your thigh to hold it against your chest, spreading you open more.

the pressure builds in your tummy, coiling tight and hot as your thigh begins to shake in his grasp. your head lulls back onto the arm rest, moans turning into high-pitched whines as your hips chase his hand desperately.

“leon… shit— i’m close—” you whine, cunt clenching around his fingers that angle upwards against your g-spot, palm grinding against your throbbing clit.

“yeah, baby?” he asks, voice softer now that he'd broken you down. he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping steadily, never missing a beat. “go on then, cum for me. let me feel how bad you need it.” he whispers sultrily, curling his fingers just right inside your walls, and that was all it took for you to fall apart.

your orgasm hits you hard, sudden and overwhelming. your walls clamp down around his fingers, pulsing violently as you cry out, back arching almost painfully. slick gushes around his fingers, dripping down his wrist and soaking the cushions beneath you. he keeps working you through every wave in slow, deep strokes that drag it out until you’re twitching, oversensitive, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

only then when your body starts to recover from the intensity of your orgasm does he ease his fingers out with a wet squelch. he can't stop himself from bringing the digits to his mouth, licking them clean while watching you with heavy-lidded eyes, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"mm, you taste good when you finally stop fighting it." he said, voice heavy with lust as he admires your body twitching under him.

you were still trying to catch your breath, chest heaving under the oversized shirt, when the words slipped out anyway, hoarse but dripping with that stubborn edge you couldn’t quite kill yet. you almost couldn't help it. “b-big talk for someone who just used his fingers,” you muttered, a tired, defiant smirk tugging at your lips even as your thighs continued to tremble. “that was just… a warm up.” you challenged, a smile tugging at your lips as you gauge his reaction.

leon’s eyes flashed with dark amusement. he slowly wiped the last traces of your slick from his lips with the back of his hand, gaze dragging over your flushed, spread-out body like he was savoring the sight.

he truly loved how persistent you were, as it only gave him an excuse to ruin you further. he loved this little game of cat and mouse, and how you insisted on keeping that defiant spark alive even when you were already trembling beneath him.

“you’re still talking?” he asked, almost in disbelief, voice low and dangerous, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he held intense eye contact with you. “yeah, let’s fix that.” before you could throw another taunt at him, leon quickly moved.

in one fluid motion he flipped you onto your stomach. your chest hit the cushions with a soft thud, cheek pressed into the damp fabric. the oversized shirt bunched uselessly under your arms, leaving your entire lower half exposed. he yanked your hips back just enough to get the angle he wanted, then shoved your upper body down flat, keeping you stretched out prone along the full length of the couch, legs straight and slightly parted beneath him.

one large hand slid between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further with firm, unyielding pressure. the other grabbed both your wrists, locking them behind your back in an iron grip, fingers wrapped tight around your forearms so you couldn’t even twitch them.

“stay right there,” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “no more running that mouth.” he commands, almost daring you to do something. you opted on keeping your mouth shut, having a gut feeling that if you said anything he’d probably find some way to gag you or something.

you felt completely helpless like this— lying flat on your stomach, face pressed into the couch, wrists trapped behind your back, leon’s weight heavy on top of you. there was nowhere to go, no way to lift your hips, no way to brace yourself. you were pinned flat, fully at his mercy.

leon’s free hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you exactly where he wanted. you could feel the fat, leaking tip of his cock nudge against your entrance, sliding through your slick folds with agonizing slowness, coating himself in your arousal.

“anything else to say?” he asked, the tip of his cock pressing just barely inside you, stretching your entrance but not giving you more. “or are you finally starting to realize how fucked you are?”

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady even though your heart was hammering against your chest. “y-you sure talk a lot for someone who’s still just teasing,” you managed, the words breathy but still laced with challenge. “if you’re gonna do it... t-then do it. stop dragging it out like you're scared you won't last." he smirks at that, he knew you just had to say something. although he prefers it that way, it just eggs him on even more.

leon nods mockingly, letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “scared i won’t last?” he pushed the head of his cock a little deeper, just enough to stretch you open before pulling back again, teasing you mercilessly. “baby... i could stay buried in this tight little cunt for hours if i really wanted to." he says, hands gripping your wrists even tighter as he watches you thrash impatiently underneath him. he hums, staring at your pathetic form under him, almost as if he'd considered sparing you. "but you’re right, i think it’s time i shut you up properly.” without another word, he snapped his hips forward and buried his thick cock inside you in one brutal thrust.

the sudden, overwhelming stretch punched a broken, gurgled cry out of your throat. he sank all the way to the hilt in a single motion, his body pressing you even deeper into the cushions, hips flush against your ass. a deep, guttural groan tore from his chest as he felt your walls clamp down around him, fluttering and squeezing like your body was trying to pull him even deeper.

“fuck… yeah,” he groans lowly, voice strained. “still so tight, knew all you needed was a good fucking." leon’s weight presses you even deeper into the couch, his chest glued to your back as he starts moving again. his hand threads into your tresses, twisting it around his hand and tugging at the strands harshly. you wince a bit at the pain, but you can't help the way you clench around him from the delicious feeling. each deliberate thrust drags his thick cock almost all the way out before he sinks back in to the hilt, grinding down hard so you feel every inch stretching you open.

“feel that?” he rasps right against your ear, “that’s me fixing that smart mouth of yours, sweetheart. all that teasing… now look at you.” he didn’t give you any time to adjust. leon immediately set a punishing rhythm. hard, deep strokes that slammed into you with enough force to shove your body forward against the cushions every single time. the wet, obscene slap of his hips meeting your ass echoed loudly through the room, mixing with the filthy squelch of your soaked cunt taking every thick inch of him. your slick was everywhere, coating his cock, dripping down your thighs, soaking the couch beneath you.

your wrists stayed locked tightly behind your back in his iron grip, leaving you completely helpless. you could only lie there prone, cheek pressed into the damp fabric, back arched, ass presented perfectly as he fucked you. every powerful thrust dragged perfectly along your walls, the angle devastating in this position. the head of his cock kissed your cervix on every deep stroke, sending sharp sparks of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine. you could cry from how good it felt.

“leon… fuck—!” your voice cracked and broke on every thrust, turning into desperate, muffled moans against the cushion. your thighs trembled violently, knees pressing uselessly against the soaked fabric as he drove into you again and again.

leon leaned over you fully, his broad chest pressed flush to your back, sweat-slick skin sliding together with every brutal snap of his hips. his mouth hovered right beside your ear so you could hear every low grunt and ragged breath.

"could’ve just asked nicely," he says, his deep voice laced with sarcasm, the words dripping with smug satisfaction. “taking my cock like a good girl now. this what you wanted the whole time?” he punctuates the question with a particularly deep, grinding thrust, rolling his hips so the thick head of his cock drags heavily against that sensitive spot inside you before slamming back in to the hilt. your eyes roll back in pleasure, loud moans falling from your lips as you arch your back deliciously.

leon lets out a low, satisfied chuckle right against your ear, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your spine. "yeah, that's what i thought," he murmurs, voice rough and teasing. “no more attitude now, huh, baby? that's my girl, take it...” he keeps the brutal rhythm, hips snapping down hard, driving his thick cock into you over and over. each thrust forces your body deeper into the cushions, your cheek rubbing against the damp fabric as you moan helplessly. your wrists stay pinned firmly behind your back, leaving you completely unable to do anything.

"thought you had me, didn’t you?" leon’s voice was low and rough, laced with dark amusement as he spoke directly into your ear. “fingering that pretty little cunt like i was just gonna sit there and watch. you really thought you had the upper hand tonight?” he asks condescendingly, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest as he watches you writhe under him. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room again, loud and filthy. every inch of him stretched you open so completely that it bordered on too much, yet you couldn’t stop the way your walls clenched greedily around his thickness.

leon would be lying if he said he didn't love this — didn’t love the way your stubborn attitude finally cracked under him, the way your body surrendered even while your mouth tried to keep fighting. he loved the power shift, loved watching you go from a cocky little tease to trembling and moaning beneath him.

he pulled back almost completely, letting just the swollen head of his cock stretch your entrance, teasing you for a heartbeat before slamming back in with a heavy, punishing thrust. the couch creaked under the force, your slick leaking out around him with every movement and dripping messily down your thighs.

your body jolted forward hard, a sharp, broken cry tearing from your throat as your back arched violently beneath him. your thighs shook uncontrollably, knees sliding against the soaked cushions in an attempt to run away from the sheer power of his thrusts.

leon groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and satisfied. “that’s it… keep squeezing me like that,” he rasped against your ear. “you can fight me all you want, but your cunt’s honest. it knows exactly who’s in charge now.” he didn’t let you escape even an inch. his hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging deeper into your soft flesh as he yanked you right back onto his cock with every brutal snap of his hips. the wet, filthy slap of skin on skin rang out louder, mixing with the filthy squelch of your soaked cunt greedily swallowing every thick inch.

leon leaned down even more, his chest plastered to your back, sweat dripping from his skin onto yours. his mouth hovered right by your ear, voice low as he reveled in your trembling form below him. “you giving up, baby?” he asked sarcastically, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as he revels at your form shaking against him. "feel how deep i'm fucking this little cunt? so fucking tight. this is exactly what you needed, isn’t it?" he teases, grinding deep on the next thrust so you felt every inch of him.

leon was so fucking filthy, so incredibly cocky that it was driving you insane. every word he rasped against your ear made your walls flutter harder around his thick cock, your body betraying you even as you tried to hold onto some shred of control.

his pace grew erratic, hips snapping harder, shorter, more desperate. the couch creaked and shifted beneath the force of his thrusts. your slick coated him completely, dripping down your thighs and soaking everything beneath you as your walls fluttered and clenched around him.

"lee... fuck, yes, love it..." the words slipped out before you could stop them, broken and needy, your voice hoarse from moaning. leon let out a low, satisfied groan, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. he tugged harder on your hair, pulling your head back just enough so his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“yeah? you love it?” he rasped, voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. you nod desperately, nearing your orgasm as your clit drags against the rough fabric of the couch with every brutal thrust, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure through you. "being so fuckin' good for me, baby." he says, the praise egging you on. you were so close to cumming you could almost taste it.

leon’s tone softened just a fraction, the smug edge still there but laced with something warmer, almost fond. “that’s my girl… ‘c'mon baby, lemme feel it. cum all over this cock, nice and hard for me, yeah?" leon whispers, his hand loosening its grip in your hair to rest him forearm next to your head instead.

you let out a high, desperate moan, your back arching sharply beneath his weight as your clit rubbed harder against the rough cushion with every deep snap of his hips. your thighs trembled uncontrollably, toes curling tight while your walls fluttered wildly around him. the praise made everything feel even more intense— your body responding instantly, clenching down on his thick cock like it was trying to pull him deeper.

leon groaned low in approval, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into your spine. “fuck, just like that,” he murmured, voice rough but warm against your ear. “you’re doing so good for me, baby. so fuckin' good. let me feel you fall apart around me like the good girl i know you are."

the praise, combined with the relentless drag of his cock and the friction against your clit, finally pushed you over the edge. before you knew it, you were cumming hard around his thick length, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure as you spasmed around him. your moans were broken and high-pitched as you practically sobbed from how good it felt, a rasp settling in your throat as you came hard.

"oh god, leon— fuck, yes..." you babbled, thrashing against him as he continues to thrust into you, chasing his orgasm.

leon groaned deeply, the sound raw and satisfied as your walls clamped down violently around him, pulsing and fluttering with every wave of your orgasm. he kept rolling his hips slow and deep, grinding against that perfect spot to draw every last tremor out of you, milking every pulse while your slick coated his cock and soaked both of you.

“that’s it… fuck, that’s my good girl,” he drawls against your ear, voice rough but warm with genuine praise. "just like that, baby. keep squeezing me— fuck, i’m so close… gonna fill you up, nice and deep, yeah?”

your body shook uncontrollably beneath him, thighs trembling violently, toes curling tight against the cushions as the overstimulation made fresh tears prick at the corners of your eyes. your back arched sharply, broken sobs mixing with your moans while your walls continued to flutter and squeeze around his thick length, pulling him deeper with every pulse.

leon’s thrusts grew shorter and more desperate, his breathing turning into low, guttural moans against your ear. his hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging in as he chased his release. “fuck, baby, i’m right there…” he rasped, voice strained and rough, lips brushing your ear. “gonna breed this tight little cunt… you want that, don’t you, baby?"

he slammed into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt with a loud, deep groan. his cock twitched and pulsed hard inside you as he came, thick, hot ropes of cum spilling deep into your cunt, flooding you with every heavy spurt. he kept grinding slow and deep, making sure every drop stayed buried as far as possible, groaning against your skin.

leon stayed buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last weak pulses of his release as he caught his breath against the back of your neck. the weight of his body kept you pinned flat to the couch, but it felt grounding and safe rather than restrictive. his hand rubbed slow, soothing circles over your wrists where he’d held them earlier, easing the faint ache from his grip.

"talk to me, baby," he murmured again, voice low and rough but gentler than before. he pressed a lingering kiss just below your ear, then another to your shoulder blade. “you still with me?”

you let out a shaky, breathless laugh that turned into a soft whimper when he shifted his hips just a little, his softening cock dragging against your sensitive walls. the mix of his cum and your slick leaked out around him, warm and messy between your thighs.

“mm… yeah,” you managed, voice hoarse and wrecked from all the moaning. your cheek was still smooshed into the damp cushion, but you turned your head slightly so you could peek up at him from the corner of your eye. “barely. you really went all out this time, lee.”

a loud, genuine chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your back. he finally eased back just enough to slip out of you with a wet sound that made your cheeks burn. you felt the immediate gush of his release dripping down your folds and onto the couch, but leon didn’t seem to care about the mess. he carefully rolled you onto your side, then pulled you against his chest so you were tucked into him, your back to his front in a loose spooning position on the couch.

his arm wrapped around your waist, hand splaying possessively over your lower stomach while the other brushed sweaty strands of hair off your face.

“you asked for it,” he said, lips brushing the shell of your ear with a smirk you could hear in his voice. “all that teasing… had to remind you who’s in charge when you get mouthy.”

you huffed, but there was no real heat left in it— only tired affection. your thighs still trembled faintly, and every little shift made you acutely aware of how thoroughly he’d fucked you. “i was winning for a while there,” you mumbled, reaching back to lightly smack his thigh. “you were practically drooling, admit it.”

leon nipped at your earlobe in retaliation, the gentle bite making you squirm. “yeah, yeah. you got me riled up. happy?” he kissed the spot right after, soothing it. his hand on your stomach slid lower, not to tease, but to cup you gently between your legs, warm palm resting over your sensitive, puffy folds like he was comforting the ache he’d left behind. “but look at you now… you're so quiet, baby. think i won in the end here."

you rolled your eyes at his teasing, “shut up. I’m not quiet. i’m just… recovering from you trying to split me in half.”

you let out a soft, breathy chuckle that quickly turned into a contented hum as leon tugged the oversized shirt down over your hips. the fabric was warm from both your bodies, and it smelled like him— cedar wood mixed with sweat and that faint, comforting scent that was so authentically leon. it made your chest feel lighter, even as your body still thrummed with the afterglow.

“recovering, huh?” he echoed, voice low and teasing, lips brushing the top of your head. his arms tightened around you in a gentle squeeze, one hand still resting possessively between your thighs while the other stroked slow, lazy lines up and down your side. “that’s a fancy way of saying i fucked the attitude right out of you.”

you swatted weakly at his chest, but there was no force behind it— just playful affection. “keep dreaming, kennedy. attitude’s still here. it’s just on standby right now.”

leon’s laugh rumbled through him again, warm and genuine. he shifted slightly so he could look down at you, those blue eyes soft with that rare, unguarded fondness he only showed when it was just the two of you. his thumb drew circles into your hips slowly, a soft reminder of his gentle nature that was reserved specifically for you.

“yeah, yeah,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead. “you’re real tough, baby. even if your legs are practically shaking like a leaf right now."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but the effect was completely ruined by the way your lips kept twitching into a smile and the undeniable tremble still running through your thighs. “wow. really rubbing it in, huh?” you muttered, voice still husky and soft. you tried to shift your legs just to prove him wrong, but they only gave another little involuntary quiver against his hand.

leon’s smirk deepened, that fond, slightly cocky glint in his blue eyes making your stomach flip even now. you scoff, setting back into his warm embrace you oh so adored.

“want some water?” he asked after a moment, pressing another kiss to your temple. “or should i just carry your bratty ass to the shower? you’re a mess, baby.” leon’s blue eyes softened as he looked down at you, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“shower?” you questioned, mumbling tiredly against his skin, already dozing off in the warmth of his arms.

“mhm,” leon hums, voice soft. he pressed a kiss to your temple. “nice and warm. i’ll wash your hair like you like, and then we’re crashing in bed. no more smartass comments from you until morning… unless you want me to remind you who’s in charge again.”

you hum, smiling sleepily in his arms, tightening your hold on him. “we’ll see.”

he just chuckled under his breath, the sound low and fond. he easily scooped you up in his arms, arms under your knees as he carried you to the bathroom, holding you like something precious.

okay, the teasing could wait until tomorrow. you were too blissful right now to even say anything. you were exactly where you wanted to be— happy, wrecked, and wrapped up in leon.

© cametoile ♡ + ↻

nier’s note 🗒️: yeah i tried to make this one a little bit shorter (it is by like 1,000 words) but leon is just so easy to get carried away with i mean. like seriously. i just wanna say thank you to everyone for the support on my first fic (my handyman), i was not expecting it to get so much love! over 2,000 notes is beyond insane, i'm glad you guys are enjoying my silly brain dumps for leon! i hope to continue to publish more works whenever i can, and maybe delve into writing for more characters/different fandoms. if you read until here, thank you for taking the time to read through my drivel, hope you enjoyed it! ♡

[slowerghost]

crystal clear

leon kennedy x reader (no y/n)

mention of blood, wounds, stitches, etc. mostly hurt/comfort/fluff as usual. brief suggestiveness.

first actual fic in a few years, but leon kennedy got me so bad rn.

playlist for leon yearning. title from the hayley williams song :)

You really wish your blood would stay in your body more often.

"Fuck," you mutter as you slump on the ground against a wall, trying your best not to bleed out. You aren't sure you can do much; your muscles are already fatigued from fighting. You use what little strength you have left to put pressure on your wound.

In your daze, you hear Leon yell your name. All you can manage is a weak noise to signal you were alive. You watch him helplessly. Even if you tried to move, you could barely sit up. Your body's exhaustion took over, protecting you from using too much energy while you were losing blood.

You're stuck watching as he's thrown across the room, hit after hit landing on his already surely exhausted body. One particularly nasty swipe had him on the ground for far longer than usual. Tears well in your eyes and you stop breathing for a moment until he finally shifts and wobbles back to his feet.

Somehow, he musters the strength to get up again and again. Gaining on the creature and eventually landing a killing blow, black and green goop flying everywhere. You're focusing so hard on not passing out, vision vignetting more and more despite you trying to blink it away, that you hardly notice the bits that splash on you.

You're so out of it you don't realize until he's already next to you that Leon is there, his hands holding your cheeks gently, firmly. He's trying to keep you awake.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay," he sounds like he's convincing himself of it, too. You must look pretty bad. Which is saying something, because Leon is covered in gashes and blood, the latter covering his body so much that you could no longer tell what's his and what isn't. 

"You okay?" You manage to get out, and he chuckles at you, eyes softening. You were on the verge of passing out, and asking if he was alright.

"You kidding? I'm the picture of health," his thumbs rub over your cheeks. He glances down at your torn open shirt, ribs covered in a gash deeper than he's ever seen on him or you before. You laugh weakly as he tears a bit of fabric from your already shredded shirt.

"You should take me to dinner first before ripping my clothes off me," you feel him wrap the strip around you, tying a secure knot to keep pressure on it.

"All the shit we've seen, I think we're past the dinner phase," he wraps his arm around you. "You think you can stand with me?" You nod, and he begins to lift you up to your feet. The room shifts violently, vertigo making you sway a bit. He moves closer, bracing you with his chest. "C'mon, I got you, baby. Let's get the hell out of here before you pass out on me." You try to pretend that even in your dazed state, the name baby doesn't send a flood of emotion through you.

It's a slow limp back to Leon's car, which is miraculously still there after all this shit. At least zombies don't know how to drive.

Leon basically lifts you into the passenger seat, but not before trying to lay you in the back. He quickly (willingly) loses an argument with you and your half slurred protests. He didn't want to waste time while you were actively bleeding, the once beige fabric now a deep red. It's easier to keep an eye on you this way, anyways.

You spend the entire drive answering Leon's questions, which you know is just a tactic to keep you conscious while he speeds to the nearest motel. Normally, you'd patch each other up in the car, but there were some stray infected wandering around, ones that had escaped your bullets. Leon didn't want to take any chances lingering around that hell hole. You're pretty sure he went near 100 miles an hour, but you're also drunk on blood loss, so maybe you imagine it.

Once you finally find a motel, Leon lifts you out of the car. You had started to be lazier and lazier in talking to him, so he bypasses any of your stubbornness by picking you up without comment. You need to be patched up now. You had barely registered him leaving the car briefly to retrieve a key and unlock the door before you were inside, and he deposits you gently on the bathroom counter against the aggressively yellowed wall, next to the world's grimiest mirror. He opens his massive first aid kit next to you, and you thank god for his insane level of practicality. You aren't exactly in the mood to walk into a drugstore to grab bandages and alcohol.

"Is it okay if I take this off?" He tugs at the hem of your shirt. You almost laugh. You either let Leon see you shirtless, or you bleed out and die. But you give him consent nonetheless.

Leon begins to peel away the makeshift bandage. You're so numb to the pain at this point, all you can do is shiver as he removes the fabric stuck in your open tissue.

"I'm gonna have to stitch you up," he murmurs, and you catch the look on his face that says it all. Guilt, worry. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for," you close your eyes and wince at the antiseptic he swipes over your wounds. "You killed that asshole, I really should be thanking you." Leon just sighs through his nose as he threads a needle.

"This isn't gonna feel good," he moves in closer to get a better angle. Before doing anything, he grabs your hand and moves it to his shoulder. An offering of something to hold onto to distract yourself from the pain. He looks up at you to ask if you're ready and you grimace with a nod.

What follows is the longest 10 minutes of your goddamn life. You suppose that it's good you can feel every bit of it. It means your nerves aren't shot, and it shocks your system out of its exhaustion.

Leon dabs over the newly closed wound again with disinfectant when he's done, and the coolness, even with the sting, feels good against your hot skin. You shiver pleasantly as Leon's hands ghost over the rest of you, wrapping up your side, and searching for other injuries that may need tending to. Every scrape, minor cut, he's wiping it with disinfectant and carefully inspecting the severity.

"'M alright, Leon," you wave nonchalantly. "Got a killer headache, but I'm not gonna die."

"I wasn't so sure for a minute," he says, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"I could say the same about you," you smile softly, eyes combing over the cuts and reddening bruises littering his body as he begins to tidy up the medical supplies scattered everywhere. "You're one stubborn asshole, Kennedy."

"You're one to talk."

"Touché, emo boy," you grunt, knees almost buckling as you go to stand up. Leon catches you without hesitation. His hands rest securely on your hips, letting you use his chest for safety while you start to regain your balance. "Jesus, you've got a full-time job saving my ass."

"Don't pretend like you haven't done the same for me before," his voice goes soft. You're fully standing now, but his hands still grip at your waist. "Besides, you never owe me anything. It's just... not like that," he pauses before going further. "I don't know what I'd do without you." This is what may make you pass out, you think. You can feel your cheeks start to burn at the way he looks at you. Your eyes betray you, flickering to his lips, and you take a stutter of a few steps away, managing to flip on the shower without falling over.

"I'm gonna clean up," you spot the towels folded on the counter and suddenly find them the most fascinating thing you've ever seen. "Thanks for stitching me up."

"Don't mention it," there's a touch of dejection in his voice. Fuck. "You still feel okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you manage a smile. He nods with one last long look at you. There's an almost shy look on his face, something that's the antithesis of Leon these days. It's just been a long time since he's had that look. A thousand lifetimes ago, a rookie you met in the middle of an infected war-zone had that look. When he's around you, you see him come through a lot. Boyish grins. Soft chuckles at his own jokes.

The hot water feels like heaven on earth washing away the grime and blood, even via your half-assed sponge bath. A scratchy washcloth and cheap soap that has your skin uncomfortably squeaky clean aren't exactly your first choices for a shower. At least it's better than zombie goop.

You try your best not to let your mind wander, but it's hard not to. You dip your head under the faucet, letting the cheap shampoo rinse out, and let the popcorn ceiling become a canvas for everything you had just seen. The dead. The reanimated. Some of them children who had their lives ripped from them. The terrified look across Leon's face when he was across the room and was too far away to block the claws ripping at your side before you could even register it. The way his body went limp when being thrown into the ground. Tears welled in your eyes at the mere memory. You thought he had died. You really did. And in that moment, with your vision going in and out, you were struck with a pit in your stomach at the idea of having to do this, do anything, even wake up without that man's endless calls, his dumb jokes, his mere presence next to you.

You had acknowledged your feelings long ago, hell, you and Leon got drunk one night after a debrief and some heavy petting had ensued. You don't know if he remembers that; you only have foggy memories of sloppy touches and his body against yours. But it's enough to make you blush thinking about it.

It isn't impossible that he felt similarly towards you. You aren't stupid. But in this line of work, relationships like that aren't exactly ideal. Naming it would bring it fully to fruition. And the cruelness of the world would punish you for it, you fear. But the need for that certainty, the freedom of being open about that with him, and to be loved so candidly in return? It was overwhelming.

Eventually, you force yourself to be done. And soon realize that you need clothes that aren't ripped and covered in blood.

You wrap a towel around you and peek out of the bathroom. Leon had settled in one of the rickety chairs, eyes closed, brow furrowed. He looks up at the squeak of bathroom door hinges. His eyes flicker over your collarbone, your legs. You aren't sure if the heat down your spine is from the shower or his eyes.

"I had some extra clothes in my car," he brings you a pair of neatly folded sweatpants, a soft, worn shirt on top. You thank him and pop back into the bathroom to change. The outfit is clearly an extra set of gym clothes. Loose and comfy, with a hint of his cologne still lingering. You re-enter the main area of the room, and Leon swallows thickly at the sight of his clothes hanging off your frame. His mouth can't help itself.

"Cute," he says, so quietly you almost don't hear him. He follows it with a regular volume. "Feeling any better?"

"A little," you shrug, sitting down on one of the beds. The springs squeak obnoxiously under your weight. "Your turn."

"What? You think I stink?" He opens his arms, showing off every inch of now dried, brown bodily fluids across his body. "Would've never guessed."

As Leon showers, you stay stationary on the bed, wondering how on earth you'd be able to sleep tonight with remnants of anxiety lingering over you. It's not like you hadn't dealt with it before, but having nearly watched Leon almost die... you're pretty shaken up.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the bathroom door opens a while later, a freshly clean Leon padding out in an almost matching set of shirt and sweats to you. Cute.

The two of you don't talk much the rest of the night. Leon retrieves an utterly nutritious dinner of vending machine food with a generous helping of water, and you watch some rerun of a sitcom on the world's tiniest TV. The wrappers crinkling and soft voices on the television is enough to fill the space. It's a calm reprieve from all the chaos the two of you had been engulfed in the past few days.

It takes a few hours of laying in bed after your shitty dinner before you give up pretending to not know what would make you feel safe enough to sleep.

"Leon?"

Maybe he's already asleep.

"Yeah?"

Fuck.

"Would you-" You have to squeeze your eyes shut to get what you really need out. "Can you come over here? I... can't sleep." You don't explain further. You don't have to. He climbs into your bed without a second thought, laying on his side to look at you. The world seems to shrink down to just the mere inches between the two of you in this tiny, shitty bed.

"Thought I was gonna lose you earlier." Leon finally says.

"Me too," you meet his gaze. He looks at you, eyes kind. You can almost feel the static in the air between the two of you. "Don't do that again."

"I'll try my best," he scoffs with a smile. That rookie cop you met so long ago flashes in his expression. You feel like you could melt into the mattress. It only gets worse when he reaches out to touch your cheek. His thumb grazes over a scar just over the top of your cheekbone. He was there when you got it, and you can see his eyes flickering, thinking about that very same memory.

You can't believe what's happening when suddenly he pulls you into a tight hug. It takes you longer than it should for you to remember to hug back. He squeezes you close to him, and you can't help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers coming up to brush the hair at his nape. He shivers against you at the touch, and you feel brave enough to go further, gently stroking his hair. His fingers knead at your waist.

"Don't go anywhere," you mumble into his neck. He wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly closer.

"I won't," he says, confidence ignited in his voice again. "As long as you stay here with me."

———————

You don't remember how long that lasted before the both of you fell asleep.

The late morning light shines through the barely opaque curtains, casting over the room in a golden glow. Leon's arm is still slung over you. You watch his chest rise and fall, brow devoid of the furrow normally persistently there. You brush his hair away from his face, and he leans into your touch. You smile. Everything felt right, despite the day before's events. Despite the ache in your body. Despite the shitty, bumpy mattress and the nicotine-yellowed walls around you. Next to this man, that's what it means to feel safe.

You grunt as you manage to sit up on the side of the bed, going to check on your injury. The bandage is dry and there's only a little blood peeking through. A good sign. It hurts like fucking hell though. You nearly jump when you feel a hand touch your hip on that side.

"How's it feeling?" Leon's voice rumbles deeply, gruff with sleep.

"Not too bad," you shrug. You turn to look at him already staring up at you. A bruise had begun to turn a deep purple near his chin. You reach out and rub your thumb over it. He leans into your touch, eyes closed. He looks like he's never been worried a day in his life. "They got you good."

"I've been worse," he mumbles. "I'm feeling pretty good right now, actually." A laugh falls from you lips. There's something so easy about the way he's laying it on thick now. Something so unspoken before seems to have broken through the normalcy, and it feels as average as saying hello.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," he opens his eyes again to look at you. You meet his gaze this time without any hesitation. He covers your hand on his face with his, giving a squeeze as he sits up, moving closer. Your hand falls to his chest, and he's suddenly so close to you. Your eyes flicker to his lips again, and this time Leon doesn't take any chances. In a flash, he's kissing you like his life depends on it. Heat floods your body, your stomach turning over, your heart soaring. You let your body fall into his, and he takes you willingly into his arms. The kiss turns messy, frantic, and in an instant you're moving to climb on his lap. He groans against your mouth, doing his best to ignore the tent rising in his sweatpants. "We can't."

"Why the hell not?" You laugh against him, continuing to plant kisses everywhere you can get your lips on.

"Your stitches," He gently pushes you away, all kiss-bitten lips and heavy breathing. You're almost pouting, and it nearly has him giving in. "Don't look at me like that. The last thing I need is you bleeding out on me again."

"Would be worth it."

He chuckles, tilting his head back against the wall. His eyes don't leave you, scanning over your face. Enjoying the light flush of your cheeks, sitting on him. He commits this vision to memory. Every detail, every feeling. The fabric of his clothes covering your body, pressed up against him so comfortably like its a daily occurrence. Your fingers tracing his shoulders, his neck, his chest. The warmth of your skin underneath his palms. He's afraid he'll never get to feel this again. But it can't hurt to try.

"Hey," The lightheartedness is replaced by an air of something more serious, but still dripping with affection. "I love you. I'm tired of pretending like we both don't know it." The words leave his mouth before he has a second thought, and you go still. Here it is. Out in the open. You swallow hard. You're not sure if you're ready to dive in, but you do so anyways. It's the obvious impulse, just like jumping in front of a bullet for him is. Leon's eyes search yours for your reaction, and you can't bear to leave him in desperation for that long. You press a hard kiss to his mouth. He breaks it after a few blissful moments.

"Tell me, baby," he breathes so, so sweetly. There it is again. Baby. You've never heard Leon Kennedy beg before.

"I love you, Leon," you're surprised at how easy the words flow off your tongue, like it was just as natural as breathing. He kisses you again, a relaxed sigh escaping him. The tension in his body goes fully limp as he pulls you in, desperate to feel every inch of you against him.

You can't wait to get your stitches out.

[tianhai03]

leon s kennyady reporting for duty

[vizienta]

Give the man a break please

[thechibifoxcub]

seeing that trend on TikTok where wives ask their police husbands/partners to chase them to see if they can out run them in a pursuit had you thinking you’d try that with your husband.

RE9!Leon was a cop once, even if it was for only a day. He went through the training at the academy. He still works out even if he hates it and makes his body ache all over. He’s still a top agent at the DSO! But he’s also getting on in years. He’s not as young as he once was and after many years of fighting bio-weapons and crazy, greedy corporations, surely you might have a chance at out running him?

Right?

so you ask your husband if he was willing to try. Being the massive sap for his spouse, RE9!Leon gives in after some much needed persuasion (aka: lots of begging and kisses). Now here you are, running like a madman down the empty suburban street late at night cause you just had to do it right then and now.

RE9!Leon gives you a 20 second head start (because let’s be honest you need it) before he takes off in a sprint. You chance a look over your shoulder and squeal in surprise at how quickly he’s gaining on you. You force yourself to run faster, all the while RE9!Leon is right behind you. You try and dodge him by weaving around the cars parked on the side of the road or by turning a corner, but it’s no use!

He’s got you pinned to his massive chest with his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. You’re laughing and panting as he swings you around as if you weigh nothing. His breath fans across the back of your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

RE9!Leon might think this trend was a little silly, but seeing you happy and laughing in his arms right now? Well it might have been worth it after all.

Masterlist

[depsidase]

[sncrlynwtms]

fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didn’t grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like “bro what is this 😭.” why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.

“college is absolutely nothing like this” “why are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one game” “so tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!”

if you don’t like a fic, and if you can’t suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you don’t have to read it. you don’t have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you don’t have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. it’s not giving baby’s first fandom anymore, it’s giving entitled asshole and it isn’t as cute as you think it is.

[aquasprings]

∘₊✧ and if your roommates were nerdjo and nerdcho..? 3!! ✧₊∘

✧ why have one when you can have both? ✧

p1 here! p2 here!

satoru can hear the way you're practically choking yourself on choso's cock. he can hear it every time the other man's tip presses down your throat, because you make this gagging sound that sends jolts to satoru's already painfully hard member.

of course he tries to get a closer look.

of course satoru moves closer and closer to the doorway, straining to see for even the tiniest glimpse of you. he imagined you were shirtless - would you be in a pretty lace bra?

he lifts the collar of his shirt to his mouth and bites back a groan at the thought, hand moving furiously over his cock with a wet schlick sound he prays you can't hear from inside.

you moan around choso's cock. satoru's eyes roll back into his skull and he presses his ear to the door, hoping to catch another one of your pretty sounds.

until he loses balance, and he sees his entire life flashing before his eyes as he stumbles through the door, yelping as he lands a couple feet in the room.

choso yelps and you fall backwards onto the bed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes wide as you stare at gojo who's tucking his cock into his pants with clumsiness.

"gojo, what the fuck?" choso says, face crimson.

“…hey,” satoru says. his voice cracks and he clears his throat immediately, trying again, pushing his glasses up his nose like that’ll fix anything. “hey.”

the room is dead quiet.

choso is frozen where he is, chest rising and falling a little too fast, eyes locked on satoru like he’s trying to decide whether to throw him out or kill him.

you’re still half-propped against the bed, lips parted, breath uneven, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stare at the absolute disaster standing in the doorway.

satoru looks like he just got caught breaking into a vault he’s been casing for months, a hand still on his waistband. “i can explain,” he blurts.

neither of you say anything.

“…okay, i can’t explain,” he corrects immediately, running a hand through his hair. “but in my defense—”

“what defense?” choso snaps, voice sharp with embarrassment. “you just fell into my room.”

“it was an accident!” satoru shoots back. “the floor—”

“the floor didn’t drag you across the hallway and into my door.”

“you don’t know that.”

your gaze flicks between them then settles on satoru. “you were listening,” you say.

he opens his mouth and closes it, pushes his glasses up again, buying himself half a second that doesn’t help at all.

“…yeah,” he admits.

choso makes a strangled noise. “you’re unbelievable.”

“oh, relax,” satoru snaps back, but there’s no real bite to it. if anything, he sounds frayed. “like you haven’t been—”

he cuts himself off.

“…been what?” you press, softer.

satoru exhales sharply like he’s cornered. “like i haven’t been thinking about her too,” he mutters.

choso goes still. you do too.

satoru huffs out a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “god, this is so humiliating.”

he drops his hand, meeting your eyes fully now. “i think about you all the time. it’s annoying, actually,” he goes on, voice a little uneven now. “i’ll be doing literally anything. studying, gaming, talking, and then boom. you. stuck in my head.”

he gestures vaguely, frustrated. “and i can’t even count how many times i’ve had to—” he stops himself, jaw tightening, then forces it out anyway, “—you know. deal with it on my own.”

choso’s ears go red, your stomach flips.

satoru lets out a breath, shoulders dropping slightly, like the worst part is over now that it’s out. “...i wanted to watch.” it slips out quieter than everything else he’s said.

choso’s head snaps toward him. “you—what?”

satoru doesn’t look at him. he’s looking at you.

only you.

“i know it’s messed up,” he says, voice rough around the edges, “i know i should’ve just stayed in my room and minded my own business but..” he laughs, short and sharp, like he doesn’t even believe himself. “i couldn’t,” he finishes. “i just… wanted to see you. hear you. whatever you’d let me have.”

your breath catches.

choso shifts beside you, his blush deepening, and he tugs his blanket further up his chest. “...you’re insane,” choso mutters again.

satoru finally glances at him, jaw tight. “yeah, well. at least i don't hide her panties under my pillow.”

choso chokes and splutters out some weak excuse. "i—it's—"

"yeah, you thought i didn't know about that?" satoru mumbles under his breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. "you got there first."

your gaze flicks between them. choso, still flushed and unsteady, and gojo, trying to play it off but failing in all the ways that matter.

two completely different kinds of wanting, both aimed at you.

your pulse trips over itself.

“…you really just wanted to watch?” you ask softly.

gojo huffs, cheeks pinking. “i mean—yeah. i’d take literally anything at this point,” he admits, a little wry and wrecked. “i’m not exactly in a position to be picky.”

you shouldn’t laugh but you do anyway, just a small breath of it, because the situation is so absurd it loops back around.

satoru's eyes flicker as you push yourself up properly now, shifting closer to the edge of the bed.

closer to him.

choso notices immediately. his hand twitches like he’s about to reach for you but then stops, watching instead.

you tilt your head slightly, studying satoru like you’re seeing him in a new light. “you were just going to stand there?” you murmur. "and watch?"

his throat bobs. "...yeah," he says.

your hand comes up, catching lightly on the front of his shirt and for the first time since he stumbled in satoru goes completely still.

"that's kind of pathetic," you whisper, before your lips crash onto his like you've been holding it back just as long as he has, and his eyes go wide in pure shock before he melts.

his hands hover uselessly for a split second before they find you, one catching your waist, the other tangling in your hair, like he needs to make sure this is real.

satoru makes a low, muffled sound against your mouth, something between disbelief and relief like he's been starving for it. he breaks the kiss just enough to breathe, forehead bumping lightly against yours, glasses askew, expression dazed in a way you've never seen before.

“…oh,” he says faintly, his grip on your waist tightens, a little more certain now.

“yeah,” you murmur, still close enough that your words brush his lips. “oh.”

behind you, choso hasn’t moved, but you can feel him.

the heat of his gaze, the way the air shifts with every shallow breath he takes, like he’s trying to figure out where he fits now that satoru's here. that this is happening.

your hand slides from satoru's shirt, but only to reach back, your fingers catching loosely in choso’s sleeve. he inhales sharply.

“don’t just sit there,” you say softly, glancing over your shoulder at him.

he looks completely overwhelmed. eyes wide, cheeks still flushed, hair a mess, like his brain hasn’t caught up to the fact that this didn’t stop when gojo walked in. that it didn’t end.

choso’s lips part, breath catching. “i—” he starts, then stops, because what even is the sentence here?

you don’t give him time to find one, and your fingers tighten just slightly in his sleeve, a quiet, grounding tug. “c’mere,” you murmur.

choso moves, hesitant at first, like he’s stepping onto unfamiliar ground, but once he does, he doesn’t stop until he’s right there at the edge of the bed again, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

satoru's still holding your waist, his breathing quickening, and choso crawls up behind you until he's resting his head in the crook of your neck, kissing softly at the junction of your shoulder.

you hum, lips curving into a smile like you've won the biggest prize at the carnival.

well. you did.

"satoru," you purr, and the man holds his breath at how is name sounds coming from your lips. his name. "what do you want?"

"erm—i—what?" he stammers, pushing his glasses up by the ridge with a shaky hand. "what do you mean?"

"what do you want," you repeat, choso's insistent kisses and gentle sucks down your neck making it increasingly hard to think. "you want me to touch you? you wanna touch me?"

his eyes nearly bugger out of his skull, blue irises growing the size of saucers. "you—you're serious?"

"satoru." you pull him down so he's inches away from your face, and his gaze darts to your lips. he swallows thickly before you say, "tell me. what you want."

"you. any of you. i—i need to feel you," he exhales, voice cracking through the sentence.

choso tilts your face to his and captures your lips in a soft kiss and satoru whimpers, hands trembling on your waist now.

oh, how badly he's waited for this. for you.

satoru trails his hands up your sides and watches your reaction carefully, before lightly grasping your tits in his large palms.

so soft, he nearly moans out, squeezing and testing the weight of them in his hands.

the sound you make when he pinches your nipples shoots straight to his crotch.

"fuck, satoru," you breathe, pulling away from choso's lips to bring the white-haired man's mouth to yours, tongue pushing through and colliding with his at the contact.

he squeezes your tits more firmly now, pressing into you and pushing you down onto the bed. choso makes some indignant noise to the side but satoru ignores it, his mind on you, you and only you.

"wanna take this off, please," he murmurs, suckling down your neck until his teeth are tugging at the straps of your top, and you quickly pull it off.

both men go silent at the sight of you sprawled on the bed, panting, tits out, and before you know it they've each got their lips on you. choso moans around your tit and squeezes your waist like he's gotta make sure you're really there. satoru gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and your hands lock into their hair, soft silver strands to your left, inky locks to your right.

"holy shit," you moan, back arching slightly off the bed. "yeah, shit—"

satoru pulls off with a pop!, his lips coated in spit and his eyes blown wide with want. like he can't get enough of you, he lurches forward and kisses you deeply, sloppily, hands roaming over your hips, your stomach.

"fuck," he whines, "you're—you're so perfect, i can't believe—"

choso moans softly around your nipple and kisses down, and down, dipping his head between your legs under your skirt.

your heart nearly dissolves. satoru whines in protest.

"i wanted to do that first," he mumbles, something almost petulant in his voice despite the way his hands refuse to leave you.

you let out a breathless, half-laugh, half-moan, head tipping back against the sheets as choso disappears beneath the line of your skirt, your fingers tightening instinctively in his dark hair when he kisses your cunt over your panties.

“then you should’ve moved faster,” you manage, voice unsteady.

that earns a soft, muffled sound of approval from below, pleased, almost, while gojo huffs in disbelief.

“ 's not fair,” he mutters, and hands are still mapping you like he’s memorizing something sacred. his eyes sharpen with something deeper than want.

competition.

he leans back in, pressing his forehead briefly to yours, and his mouth is on yours again, slower this time, deeper, like he’s trying to prove something. not rushed, but focused.

you break the kiss to let out an airy gasp when choso pushes one, two fingers in you, curling them at an angle that's got you seeing stars. his mouth finds your clit and you cry, nails digging into satoru's shoulders.

“you okay?” choso’s voice comes, softer now, before pressing more sloppy kisses to your dripping heat.

your chest tightens and you nod, breath catching. “mhm.”

gojo lets out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh against your mouth. “he’s asking for permission now?”

“shut up,” choso mutters, but there’s no bite. just embarrassment threading through it.

“no, it’s—” you start, then stop, because finding words feels impossible when everything is happening at once, and because choso's sucking your clit again, fingers relentless as they push and twist in you. “it’s go—ooooddd.”

you writhe on the sheets, soft moans spilling from your lips in time with each of choso's desperate yet reverent licks and sucks. you latch onto satoru's arm, pulling him down to your chest, and he happily obliges, palming at the dewy flesh and sucking marks onto your tits.

your orgasm hits you like a shockwave and has your back arching even further off the bed, hands in choso's hair tugging so hard he moans. his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer to his face, and satoru keeps your body close to him, worshiping every inch he can get his hands on.

your clit throbs, zaps and jolts coursing through you at rapid speed, making your toes curl and chest heave with pleasure. choso's moans are muffled contendly against your pussy, his tongue still working at lapping up every drop of your slick he can collect.

satoru can't help but go still watching the way your face morphs and contorts in pleasure, and he's got his hands in his pants again, freeing his cock (so hard it hurts) from the confines of his boxers. he exhales, breath catching somewhere between his chest and his throat as he watches you come undone.

it’s not even just what you look like. it’s how you look. like you’ve let go of everything, like you trust them enough to fall apart right here, in front of both of them.

“…holy shit,” he breathes under his breath, voice rough, almost disbelieving, hand fisting his cock at a slow, languid pace. you watch precum dribble out the slit, trailing pathetically down until it's gathered around his fingers and pumped back down.

choso doesn’t stop immediately. he lingers like he’s reluctant to pull away, like he’s memorizing you in this state, committing every little reaction to memory. his grip on your thighs loosens just slightly, thumbs brushing absent, soothing circles.

only when your body starts to settle and when your breathing comes back in uneven, shaky pulls does he finally lift his head. his lips are parted, eyes dark and glassy, hair a mess from your grip.

he looks dazed.

“...you okay?” he asks softly.

it’s such a choso thing to say it almost makes you laugh, even through the haze still buzzing through your veins. you nod faintly, chest rising and falling. “mhm…”

your hand, still tangled loosely in his hair, softens its hold.

behind you, satoru shifts.

the mattress dips slightly as he moves closer again, one hand coming up almost instinctively to brush your hair back from your face, thumb tracing along your cheek like he can’t help himself.

“…you’re unreal,” he murmurs, voice cracking as he fists his cock faster, breathy little grunts filling the room.

you glance at him, eyes still heavy-lidded, and there’s something about the way you look at him, all soft and wrecked, that makes his breath hitch again.

he's already close. it's pathetic, and he knows, but satoru feels it. how his cock starts to feel like it's buzzing, and how his balls feel tighter and tighter against his base.

you moan and pull him by his waist closer to you until his cock's pressed against your cheek, and you drag it along your bottom lip, satoru's eyes rolling back when you take his tip between your pretty, plush lips.

satoru’s already too far gone. he exhales shakily, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, and your hand at his waist tugs him closer, deeper.

he lets himself be pulled. lets himself fall into it.

his head tips back for a second, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of you, of this moment, your lips and your tongue that swirls around his tip. it's too much and not enough at the same time, and the feeling crashes over, cum shooting down your throat, sticky and hot.

he whimpers. it's music to your ears, the way cute, breathy gasps die on his lips, glasses fogged and hair all mussed.

“you’re—” he starts, then cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, one hand coming up to his face like he needs to steady himself. “you’re gonna ruin me,” he mutters, half breathless, half laughing at his own lack of control.

choso's gaze flickers between the two of you, something tight and conflicted pulling at his expression. like he wants to step in, but doesn’t know how without breaking something.

your hand reaches forward again, fingers catching his wrist this time, grounding him the same way you did satoru. “don’t just watch,” you murmur, voice softer now.

choso inhales sharply and lifts himself off his knees, moving closer, closer, closer until he’s right there again, the three of you pulled into the same orbit, no space left for hesitation.

satoru's dick is still weakly spurting cum down your chin as he pulls out of your mouth. choso watches the action with bated breath, cheeks darkening pink, his own cock leaking, flushed against his stomach, begging to be used.

satoru is still half-breathless against you, forehead tilted forward, glasses slightly crooked, eyes hooded in that dazed, undone way you’ve never had the chance to see on him before. his grip on you doesn’t loosen.

if anything, it tightens, like he’s afraid choso stepping closer means something gets taken away.

choso notices. looks.

months restraint and late-night thoughts all condensed into a single, suffocating silence.

then choso moves first, but not toward you.

toward... him.

satoru blinks once, surprised, as choso reaches out and catches the front of his shirt. firm, not aggressive, but certain in a way choso usually isn’t.

“…you’re always so loud,” choso says quietly, like it’s an accusation he’s been holding onto for too long.

satoru lets out a short laugh. “excuse me?”

choso doesn’t answer. he pulls satoru in.

it’s sudden, clumsy in the way it starts, like neither of them fully knows what they’re doing with the weight of this moment, but there’s no hesitation behind it anymore.

satoru makes a sound of surprise against his breath, then something in him clicks. his fingers curl into choso’s hair instead, gripping like he’s anchoring himself, and the space between them collapses.

the kiss is messy. all deep angles and tongue and choso leans in deeper, prying satoru's jaw open further. satoru's hand slides up to choso’s jaw, tilting him slightly like he’s testing angles, and choso responds with a quiet, broken exhale against his mouth, fingers tightening in gojo’s shirt like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go.

you go very still, breath catching as you watch it happen.

ho...ly...fuck.

"holy fuck," you whisper, heart racing and arousal heightening at the sight of your two, stupid-hot, stupid-down-bad roommates making out. you grab gojo's shirt and help him tug it off, muscles contracting as he brings choso closer to him, falling back onto the bed beside you.

you grab the two men by their shoulders and breathlessly bring them to your mouth, the kiss sloppy and messy and everything in between. two tongues pushing into the cavern of your mouth, licking, sucking, breaths mingling.

holy fuck.

holy shitting fuck.

choso—or is it satoru? whines into your ear, and both of their hands are grabbing at your tits again, dipping to your cunt, feeling. everything. all of you.

"please," satoru whimpers into your neck, eyes blissed out and watery. "wanna fuck you." he ruts his cock against your thigh needily, hands still holding onto you.

choso kisses you below your ear softly. "i wanna," he complains. "wanna fuck you too."

"i get to first," gojo bites breathlessly, sliding his cock against your slippery folds, moaning a high-pitched, strained sound into the air. "please. please, can i."

"yeah," you whisper, holding onto satoru's shoulders. "fuck, 'toru, do it quickly, i need—"

he moans of relief when he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks in all the way, cock pulsing deep in your walls, stretching you so, so good.

the three of you moan when satoru starts thrusting, his hands finding purchase on your waist, your legs. he pushes your thighs back so he's practically laying on top of you, cock hitting angles you didn't know were possible.

you wail, completely debauched atop the bed. choso has to physically restrain himself from cumming untouched at the sight of you and your parted lips. the way you moan for satoru so prettily.

he wants it to be him.

"i get to next, right?" he pleads, cupping your face. "please? gonna make you feel so, so good, i promise—"

"ye—eeeah, yes, fuck, you—ngh—you next, choso," you babble out, sounding drunk. satoru's cock fills you up so good, and he blabbers about how tight you are, each word punctuated with a grunt that sends your head spinning.

"feel so good," he mumbles, voice shattering at the end. "i'm so lucky, i'm—ngh, you're so tight—i'm so lucky—"

he presses you further into the mattress, his body gently holding you down as his pace quickens, thrusts rough and deep and oh so perfect inside your fluttering walls.

choso's watching, completely entranced, pumping his cock with each slap of satoru's pelvis to your ass, biting his lip to draw blood away from where every ounce of it in his body has already gone to.

he feels lightheaded. this simply can't be real — his pretty, beautiful roommate, getting fucked dumb on satoru's cock.

and he gets to fuck you next.

"sa—to—ru—" you gasp, clawing down his back as you feel your climax build again. the ache is undeniable. your legs sore and trembling and core pulsing more and more and more.

"fuck, cum on my cock, please," he whimpers, each jerk of his hips growing messier, the sound of it wet and absolutely messy.

so you do. you see stars, vision blurring white, and you feel satoru pull out before coating your stomach with his release. somewhere to your right, choso's moaning, biting his hand, cumming all over your pretty tits.

you're panting. choso's still catching his breath. satoru's whining softly, cock still hard in his hand.

you barely register choso say that it's his turn before you're flipped onto your stomach, moaning as he slips into your hole, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

"ohmygod," he slurs into your neck, back warm and solid against yours. "ohmygod, you're so good. ohmyg—"

you push yourself back onto his cock, eyes squeezed shut, pussy throbbing from overstimulation, and choso finally starts pushing into you.

he doesn't start slow. his pace is rough from the get-go, glazed, sleepy eyes glued to the way your ass ripples with each of his smooth, deep thrusts.

"so good like this," he moans reverently, and you clench around him, sobbing softly into the pillow.

"fuck, cho," you cry, one arm trembling out and holding onto satoru's bicep, your other hand fisting the bedsheets. "there, right there—"

"y—yeah, okay, there," he stutters, cock so deep it's bruising your cervix with every thrust. "ngh—"

you're positively buzzing, body going limp and your jaw hangs slack against the pillow, eyes back in their sockets.

he's so good. they're both so good, and perfect—

"i'm sorry, i—i think i'm close again," choso whines, gripping onto your waist with every fiber of his being. "i'm sorry, i wanted to—"

"hold it," you say, tilting your head back just slightly to catch the way choso's expression morphs into pleading. "don't cum yet."

"i—fuck," he moans, whimpering as his pace turns sloppy.

satoru grunts softly from where he's laying down, thumb tracing lines down your neck. mentally, he's still recovering from the best sex of his life. he's also bloody grateful that you didn't edge him.

(maybe for another time, he allows himself to think, body tingling at the thought.)

"choso, hold it," you repeat. "and don't slow—fuck—down."

"y—yes, sorry," he stammers, voice uneven, cheeks red and chest heaving with effort as he tries to hold his orgasm.

he’s trying.

trying so hard it almost hurts to watch.

you’re too focused on the way choso is holding on like he’s barely managing it, the way his restraint is visibly fraying at the edges, the way he keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“good,” you say eventually, softer now. “just like that.”

choso lets out a shaky exhale at the praise, shoulders trembling.

satoru notices, his thumb drifting absently against your skin and choso shifts again at the edge of the bed, trying to steady himself, but he’s clearly at his limit now, every breath strained like he’s balancing on a knife’s edge.

“i can’t—” he starts.

“yes, you can,” you cut in gently.

it’s obvious he’s struggling.

his control is hanging by a thread, every movement a little less precise, a little more desperate, like his body is arguing with his will. you feel it in the way he trembles against you.

“good,” you murmur, softer now, gasping softly with each of his impatient thrusts, hand sliding to steady his wrist where it presses into your waist. “you’re doing so good, choso.”

he sobs, tears pooling in his eyes, trickling down his face. "please," he begs, voice so broken and airy. "please, i—i can't hold—"

"ok—okay," you whisper, clenching around him hard again. "you can come."

choso cries of relief, pulling out with a half second to spare before he's spilling all over your ass, your back, your thighs, panting, tears flowing steadily now.

"thankyouthankyouthankyou," he whimpers, "thank you, holy shit—"

his whole body folds forward slightly, like the tension finally snaps and leaves him hollowed out in the gentlest way. his hands stay on you, but they’ve lost their urgency now and his breathing is uneven, shaky, like he doesn’t quite trust his own body yet.

you’re still catching your breath too, chest rising and falling fast, skin warm, mind a little hazy at the edges from how intense everything’s been.

“…i think i died a little,” choso says weakly.

you let out a short laugh despite yourself, sinking back into the pillows. “you’re dramatic.”

“i’m not dramatic,” he protests immediately, then winces like even talking is a mistake. “i just—i need a minute.”

satoru, who has been suspiciously quiet, finally exhales a laugh through his nose. “you were literally crying,” he says.

"you were about to," you counter, teasing smile on your face. "what, was it that good?"

"yes," both men say instantly.

your pulse stutters. they really are perfect.

you fall into comfortable silence, limbs tangled and sweaty on the bed, satoru curled into your side, choso resting his face against your thigh, gazing up at you.

satoru's the first to break the moment.

"are we gonna skip over the fact that choso hoards your underwear?"

"are we going to forget how you fell through the door cause you were trying to get off on the noise?" choso counters weakly, cheeks burning.

"shut up."

"you shut up."

"shut up," you snap, tugging at their hair, and they go quiet, pressing their lips together.

"sorry," satoru murmurs.

choso kisses your thigh softly. "yeah, i—i'm sorry."

"just lay here for a sec," you mumble sleepily, body aching and eyes drifting shut.

there’s a pause before they both obey like it’s the easiest thing in the world. satoru shifts closer on one side, choso on the other, until there’s no space left to argue in.

when the room finally goes quiet, neither of them leaves.

a/n ~ ...so that was something...lmk if we liked ;)

[shikiyomizu]

modern day man ─────────── l. kennedy

summary . . . your work bestie is a 49 year old man who tries to stay “hip and cool” with “the youngsters”, and that’s just you dealing with his memes. part one can be found here.

notes. nurse 🗣️‼️ he’s out again !! a lot wanted a part two so i went ahead and made one 🫶😝 y’all are gonna be able to tell which one is my favorite 💀

tags ──────── platonic, crack fic tbh, texts. leon is your annoying peepaw in this 😼. nana mentioned, shout out to everyone who said leon should watch nana. glorious king chris redfield mentioned (my foreshadowing that i’m writing for him).

[dramaticsk-deactivated20260805]

" touch it ! push it ! lick it ! "

warning -- ! i feel freaky rn and so you're getting smutty leon blurb that just came in my head for like five seconds and it kinda sounds like headcannons but whatever I JUST NEED TO WRITE THIS.

sex with Leon was quite literally like a porn movie. you always end up in humiliating positions, used like a sex toy, and completely ruined.

Leon is a man of it all, he has done everything and is surprisingly skilled with it. he knows just what spots to hit, how to keep his pace and when to speed it up, he knows how to spoil.

and boy does he know how to be an eater.

if it was a sport, he'd have three gold medals. that tongue explores every part of you, making sure to leave every sensitive inch coated in saliva and giving you little kisses that make your body have a euphoric shock every time he does it.

even after you cum inside of his mouth, he still goes down on you and doesn't come up or take a breath at all. no breaks, no pausing, he wants to please you until you pass out. also, he's a cheeky bastard that likes to see you struggle against him.

he knows he's much stronger than you and can hold you down easily. thats why he loves doing it.

and feeling your nails drag along his arms as a pathetic attempt to get him off was exhilarating to him. his heart beat a little faster every time you gripped his hair and pulled him down closer.

during sex he's very vocal. he will groan, whimper, whine and huff and puff the entire time, and he absolutely talks you through it.

"This is all yours," he'd mumble while he gave you no time to adjust to his size.

"You can take it, breathe with me."

"So tight for me," "Like that?" "So good for me," "How's that baby?"

and especially after arguments he loves to fuck missionary just so he can see your expression falter and that anger slip away while he pounds you. "Not so mad anymore, huh?"

"M'sorry baby, I won't do it again,"

"Did we learn our lesson?"

"How are you now?"

he is such a fucking tease and he knows it. he will purposely only put the tip in just to watch you writhe in place, waiting for the whole thing. it always catches you off guard.

and he lives for eye contact, especially when you're struggling to keep your eyes open and on him while you leave marks all over his back.

mkay blurb done you guys can go now