Hierophilia

sorry i came in 33 seconds i love u

the 6th love language is actually cumming inside and fucking it deeper

Everyone look at how nice my family town is when it snows! ☃︎⋆꙳•❅*ִ

About Me

Nat ૮ • ﻌ - ა ₊˚⊹♡ 02’ she/her University Student

Hyperfixating on a new show and would you believe my mid terms are next Monday

Masterlist

Resident Evil Call of Duty Misc.

Friends with Benefits

Summary: You and Leon were both friends, nothing less and definitely nothing more. The comfortable dynamic evolves, and Leon finds his thoughts on things changing, and his needs shifting. Maybe for the worse. He just needed his sweet girl, just this once. Pairing: Leon s. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Content warnings: MDNI! Softcore somno, Self-guilt turned self-gaslighting-and-justification, no explicit NSFW, pinning, fluff if you squint, also dubcon if you squint

Moments as tender as these were rare and few between. Thick arms wrapped protectively around your waist with your back pressed flush against his chest, Leon’s attention hyper focused on the way your chest rose and fell so softly. He kept his breathing quiet, basically silent as he felt himself grow dizzy with want, the smell of your shampoo being the only thing he could smell, the shy bit of skin at your waist from your shirt riding up the only thing he could feel. By god, he wanted to plant his lips on your neck and stake his claim, mar your barren neck with pretty bruises and feel you squirm.

Fuck, he needed help. The two of you had only started getting closer as of late. Always knew each other as friends, but that line started to blur when Leon found himself in the thick of being no better than the government’s bitch, while you were still in university with your life revolving around the next exam paper that never fails to knock down your ego twenty notches. Neither of you had talked about this arrangement, just fell into a comfortable shift in pattern of hanging out at each other’s places, having meals together and cuddling together. It was like friends with benefits, except the benefits excluded any sexual welfare. Leon before the Raccoon City incident would’ve whined and demanded compensation for his poor, aching blue balls, but the current government’s lapdog Leon was just grateful to have someone to hold, even if they weren’t anything more than questionable friends. That’s what he told himself, at least. That he was lucky to have you, his sweet girl. Friend. His sweet, girl-friend. Always doing your best to cheer him up, take his mind off work, even help him unwind by surprising him with the occasional home cooked meals and movie nights with fuzzy socks and popcorn. So when his thoughts start to shift, he finds himself struggling to grapple against the wagering war within him. Suddenly, movie nights didn’t feel so platonic when all he could focus on is how soft your breasts felt, all pressed against biceps when you were hugging it, and how good it would feel having you sat prettily on his lap while he clung onto your waist and let his hand crawl lower. The sudden spur of thought went straight to his dick, and he thought he forgot how to breathe for a moment. The popcorn felt too sweet now, like it was going to pull his teeth right out, and the room felt too warm, like his brain was going to melt out of his ears.

That was just the start of it. Nothing was the same after that. Everything you usually did from then would have Junior at full attention. Eating something? He bet your lips would feel real nice wrapped around his dick. Crouched down to pick something up? He knows you’d look real cute when he surprises you with his bulge in your face as you stand up. Blinked up at him while you’re asking him whether he wants anything from near your university? Had to physically stop himself from bending down a lil and slamming his lips into yours, hands around your back to stop you from escaping. Point is, he was but a man at the end of the day, and his male needs finally decided to make itself unavoidable. He found himself plagued by an incessant want, so much so that he considered maybe getting neutered wouldn’t be too bad. The guilt festered and ate at him. Made him more irritable at work, forced him to milk himself at least once a day now whenever you weren’t around. He wanted to hate you for worming your way into his mind and making yourself home there like a god damn parasite, but he couldn’t. You, his sweet girl who always had his best intentions in mind, always so sweet towards everyone, even make it a point to stop by every cat to give it a pat and move snails off pavements and onto grass patches. But he could only resist so much. How do you expect him not to let himself go just a little bit when you’re all cuddled up against his chest, ass unconsciously pressed against his bricked up boner, and back hunched to make yourself seem that much smaller. Leon had to bite his lips to keep himself from groaning and bucking his hips up against you when his thumb rubbed little circles into the soft flesh of your waist. He silently prayed for forgiveness when his hand climbed higher, slowly trailing the soft skin beneath his rough finger pads, his breath shuddering when he reached the upslope curve of your breast. It wasn’t too late to back out. He could pull his hand out, pull your shirt down, and try to sleep with a raging hard on. Not the most practical of choices, but the option was there all the same. He swallowed thickly, mind reeling as he really, really thought this through. The guilt was growing, building up like a pressure cooker and ready to pop at any moment. He was pretty sure if he thought about this hard enough, he could throw up from how awful he felt. He was an upstanding, law abiding citizen with a strong sense of justice and moral compass. His entire upbringing revolved around taking care of others and protecting the innocent. What was he doing? You whined softly in your sleep, nose scrunching as your shifted back a little more, the plump of your ass rubbing against his dick through the thin home-wear boxers. He deserved to be a little selfish. You wouldn’t even know! It just a few light brushes, just so he could say he’s felt the touch of a woman recently. Just so he has something to rewind over and over again in his head when he rubs himself off again the next day, and every other day following that. This doesn’t change him, he still orients himself entirely around other people and protecting the vulnerable. He would protect you, keep you happy and fed, treat you so so well. A new resolve blossomed in him, inhibitions temporarily locked in a safe and thrown into deep waters as his hand climbed further up. His head spun, his mouth falling open when the pad of his finger brushed against your nipple, earning him a soft noise from your slumbering figure. Oh, his sweet little girl’s so sensitive, aren’t you? He knew he was done for the moment he felt your nipples pebble under his touch, the way you whimpered shooting straight to his leaking dick.

This was unfair. It was so, fucking unfair that he had been blessed with such a cute sweetheart, yet they weren’t together yet despite almost living together. He wanted to cry, why couldn’t something good happen in his life. You. You were good. Why couldn’t you happen to him? His other hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, smearing the precum across his slit before using what he could to rub the mushroom tip. He was certain your hands would feel so much better, so much softer, if he could just. With shaky hands, he gently guided your soft one over his dick, small palms cupping the hot and heavy weight through the boxers, and he swore he almost came right there and then. Swallowing down his own whimpers, he held his hand over yours, gently squeezing his length, rubbing softly as his hips bucked up into your hands. His dick twitched, jumping excitedly as he felt himself tear up from the intensity of it all. He was getting choked up, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried so hard not to pant and groan into your ear. He felt himself tipping. On the crest of his orgasm, he let your hand fall from his dick, pulling away and scrambling back so he had room to spear his dick into his rough hands. He had to bite down on the collar of his shirt, and even then, that couldn’t fully muffle his cries when he spilled out and onto his hands, his thighs shaking and dick spasming in his hold as he wrung himself dry. He was certain he had died for a second and met god himself when his vision went white and all the air was robbed out of his lungs, his ears ringing and head dizzy as he let himself slump forward to rest his head against the mattress while he heaved for air. Gingerly pulling his hand out of his boxers, both of which sticky with his cum, he slowly raised his head to look to you, still sleeping with your back towards him. He let out a soft breath, letting the daze of his orgasm subside. This was the first and last time, he told himself. Never again, he thought, as he weakly stumbled into the bathroom with buckling knees to clean himself up.

Teacher’s Pet

Summary: Leon was never good with people. Not since Raccoon City, not after the DSO, and certainly not after he’s involuntarily signed up to be a temporary professor at a University. He simply didn’t have the same charm that others envied, so thank the heavens he didn’t have to be when you were there to charm him instead.

Pairing(s): Professor!Leon s. Kennedy x Student!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Content Warnings: MDNI! Age gap, Both of them are a bit of a creep, But they’re cute so it’s okay, Obsessive & Stalker undertones

“So, does anyone have an answer for this first question? Yeast deletion library can be used to validate tumor suppressor genes identified in tumors from humans. From such studies, we can infer that these genes function mainly as…? Anyone?” A lengthy silence followed, cut short by a sigh. “Mainly as cell cycle regulators.” The air of confidence ebbed away, leaving a soft murmur meant for his ears only as he slumped into his chair in behind the front desk.“Come on Leon, this is stupid. Awful. Am I even doing this right?” 

A calloused hand carded through blonde locks, tousling them as the man took a deep breath while sifting through his slides once more. “Is there anyone who knows what cell cycle regulators do? No, that’s too textbook, they’ll understand better in a real life application question,” he grumbled once more to himself within the vacant classroom, “real life application… I better start bringing lab samples if I’m gonna start talking about real life application,” he snorted dryly. Odd, maybe that’s an inside joke between him and himself. You couldn’t help but giggle softly to yourself; actually to yourself, unlike Prof Kennedy. Poor sod. Sat outside the classroom with your ears pressed against the door, you were jotting down notes to yourself with some scribbles for entertainment purposes. 

Your attention was rapt however, when you heard him murmur your name. Breath hitched, you froze while scrambling to pack your things and get away before he could open the door. “Yes, you. Do you have an answer to this question? It’s alright if you get the answer wrong, but i’d like you to try.” You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging as you realized he was just practicing, but that didn’t stop the warm flush of your cheeks while your hand came up to cover your lips. Was he practicing with the thought of you in mind?

Professor Leon Kennedy, or Prof Kennedy as some of your classmates preferred to address him by, was the new professor teaching the principles of genetics module. You had heard whispers about him being younger than most of the geriatric professors, something something government involvement and a temporary break.

You were more concerned about this guy’s ability to teach, because you were damn sure if you had someone with the teaching capacity of a TA as your prof, you might personally see to that he clocks in his early retirement. 

But turns out, he was a pretty alright professor. You’ve definitely had better, he wasn’t exemplary. No, Prof Redfield took the cake for that. Eye candy, and brutal at Chemistry. You didn’t hate O chem any less than when you first started, but he was convincing enough to keep you from skipping. 

While Prof Redfield was masterful at his subject and teaching, Prof Kennedy was diligent but at the same time, kind of a grouch. It was kind of sweet to see how hard he was actually trying to make lectures more bearable, but you had every reason to believe that he himself could hardly stand being there when he never had anything beyond an impassive expression. You were pretty sure you’ve seen cadavers with more life in their face than he did 95 percent of the time. The other 5 percent was when class ends and he’s got the same urgency to match the pace he’s packing, because somehow he’s always the last guy in and first guy out of the lecture theatre.

“Alright class! Can anyone tell me about- no that’s not right, what am I saying?” Leon was near his wits end. Couldn’t recall why on earth he agreed to teach at some university as a break. Actually no, he did recall. 

He recalled how Chris and Claire had both coaxed him into the idea during one of their nights out drinking, and he recalled not recalling signing anything, but apparently he was already signed up for it within the same week of his disgruntled verbal agreement. He wished the government would work just a fraction as fast as whatever organization body that was desperate enough to take him in as a professor. Oh, but I think you’d be a good match Leon, what with all your lab background, you’ve got the knowledge they’re looking to teach. Plus, it’s an easy paid holiday from work! Leon rolled his eyes as he recalled the muddled voice of Claire, or was it Chris? Doesn’t matter. They considered a whole lot of his technical abilities, and a lot less of his social skills neck to neck with a nut. Tipping his head back as he stared up at the fluorescent lights, he thought back to his first lecture. Fucking terrifying, mind you. Facing BOWs with the ability to detach his spine from his head wasn’t anywhere near the same kind of nerve-wrecking when he had to stand in front of a whole auditorium of students. The second lecture was better, but only but the smallest sliver.

Lesser students this time, but still too many eyes for comfort. The only saving grace was that this time, he practiced. Spent an embarrassing amount of time going through the lecture materials with himself before stepping up on stage. 

Asides from that however, he had a little more brain capacity to actually observe the students during his second attempt. Most of which, jotting down notes on their ipads, using their phones; he couldn’t blame them, genetics can be pretty dry, and he would’ve chosen to teach something else as well if he was given the choice. However a little something stood out from the crowd. You were nearer to the front, rather dolled up. You were cute. And not only that, lo and behold, you were a nodder. Lecturers must love you, because Leon sure as hell did when he finally caught notice of you, and how you seemed to reciprocate his lectures with an encouraging nod and a smile whenever your gaze met. He found it a little easier to go up on stage after that. His gaze deviated more towards you, and at some point he just pretended like he was just teaching you. Drowned out the rest of the auditorium, and acted like it was just the two of you. 

That’s how he first came to know of you. Not actually though; professors don’t actually interact with the students. He didn’t get paid enough for that, and he didn’t want to come off as a creep, so he left you alone for the most part. 

Just did his own private digging to find out your name, and oh, would you look at that? You should really learn to safeguard your particulars better because it took him less than 5 to find your address, birthday, education history and wow, your grades were nothing to scoff at. Pretty, and smart? A girl after his heart, except that was a violation of so many school conducts that the idea was quickly carted off. He noticed starting from the fourth week that you were starting to find a voice in the class, and his attention all but zeroed in on you. The immense relief Leon felt when for the first time ever, a student actually tried to answer his question and not leave him to bask in awkward silence. It was only near the end of the lesson that he realized that his question was meant to be a rhetoric. It was an opening to the next chapter. You weren’t supposed to know what he was talking about, so how’d you know the answer? Do dean-listers just study ahead of class? “I just do some extra studying outside of class,” you had smiled sweetly up at him the one time he mustered the courage to approach you after the lecture ended, “you did a good job with this week’s lecture, by the way. The math was a little dry and confusing, but you made it a lot more bearable than it would’ve been.” The man was a real slump, but you could appreciate his effort, even if the exact opposite was reflected on his face every lesson. 

“Thank you,” caught off guard by the compliment, Leon sheepishly scratched at his chin, cheeks tinged warm, “if you ever need help, i’m usually free outside of lectures.” Both you and Leon blinked at each other. Whoa. Did the grumpiest professor you’ve ever interacted with just offer their time outside of class? Willingly? You were going to buy a lottery ticket later for your course code.

“Oh, I appreciate the offer,” your lips parted and closed as you tried to think of how to carry the conversation. You almost turned him down out of reflex, and frankly you never thought you’d make it to this stage. Sure, you were creeping just a little bit with the one sided after school supplementary class, but were you really about to push it? “how’s this friday?” The answer was yes. Yes, you were. Who knows? It might even be fun. This friday? Leon was going back home this friday to sleep away the school air and hopefully into a coma. Maybe he could sneak some drinks in, in his couch alone at home. That’s what he was doing this Friday. “This friday? I can do friday. I’ll email you later, and we can work out a time?” Or maybe not. “Sure! Thanks Prof,” he remembered how you beamed so warmly up at him, almost blinding, before strutting off with your bag hauled over one shoulder. With only the linger scent of your perfume tickling his nose, he was left to stand there by his lonesome.

It took a grand total of one and a half occasions for him to cave. The first was Friday. 

Friday came quick. Too quick, really. Maybe all that alcohol from a couple years back was finally coming back to fragment his memory, but it was like time was lost on him. Whatever time between that week’s lecture and Friday was lost on him while he was too busy imagining what the tutoring session would look like. Maybe he should smile a little more, come off more amicable and nice. Or should he just stick with the grumpy vibe? He knows that’s been hitting it off with some of the girls in school, he’s heard some of the passing comments. No, but you seem like a nice girl who would like a sweet guy. “Hey Prof, you okay?” Oh, why would you look at that? It seems his sense of time was failing him again. 

“Hm? I’m okay, just a little tired is all,” he blinked back to life, rubbing his face as he gave you a nonchalant wave of his hand, “don’t worry about me.” You frowned softly, eyes scanning him with an intensity that made Leon feel the same tingly warmth from last lecture. Before he could convince you any further, you leaned in close, and that might’ve been the closest Leon has ever been to a woman who didn’t have the ability nor intention to kill him in 3 seconds flat in a very long time.

He swallowed nervously, adam’s apple bobbing, but he otherwise made no move to push you away. Blue eyes flitted from your eyes; soft and glittery, down to your lips; Plump, pillowy and shiny. He noticed you usually had a tube of lip gloss on your desk during lectures. He went to google it, said it was strawberry flavoured. Suddenly, he was having cravings for strawberries. 

His lids fluttered, half lidded as he stared down at you, mind empty yet reeling all the same. What were you doing, little minx? “Your eyebags are pretty bad, a little too pale, your cheeks are kind of sunken as well. You should take care of your health a little more,” you suddenly said, before pulling away and returning back to your seat, back straightened as though nothing had happened. As though you didn’t lean in close enough for him to smell the strawberries off your lips. Didn’t threaten Leon’s self restraint to close the gap between the both of you. “ I can take care of myself. Thanks for the concern, but don’t worry about me kid,” he coughed, voice a low rumble as he glanced away. Right. He remembered reading about you being a medical student. He was getting ahead of himself. A doll like you with damaged goods like him? The notion was laughable, but Leon would never admit to the tinge of warmth that bloomed at the thought of it.

“Everyone could use a little help regardless of what stage of life you’re in,” you shrugged all to nonchalantly, like you were stating a fact. Which you were, before glancing towards him as you fished out this week’s study materials from your bag. “And you think you can help me?” “I’m sure I could be of some help, one way or another,” You flipped open your notebook, ipad on the side with your questions all prepared. What Leon wouldn’t give to have coworkers as efficient and enthused as you. Maybe he could put in a good word for you in his lab, pull you in for your internships. A relationship between co-workers would be alot less inappropriate than a relationship between professor and student. He knew he was still going to get shit from it from his office though, but that was a problem for later. Maybe then you could help him out. Out of his ditch of misery, out of his wandering mind, help him out of his pants. Whoa. Where did that come from?

He cleared his throat, swallowing his spit before picking up your notes. “We can talk about that another time. For now, what’re you having trouble with?” Half an hour in, and Leon was struggling. Fighting for his life, actually, because he’d been sporting a boner beneath the table 10 minutes in after your legs accidentally brushed against each other. He couldn’t tell if he was suffering from acute testosterone poisoning, and the horniness was deluding him into thinking that you were dropping him hints, or if you were genuinely showing some sort of interest in him. Your lashes fluttered when you stared up at him, lips coated in a sheen of gloss puffed into a soft pout everytime he explained something through tripped words and stutters. Everytime he found it in himself to knock the thoughts out of his head, you always found some innocuous way to enthrall him and his dick back into your whimsy, imaginary grasp. He wondered if your hands grab onto dicks as hard as you grabbed his attention. Just as Leon felt like he was finally going to see which would pop first; his dick or his blood pressure, the lesson was cut short. He wasn’t sure if he found the hour long session too short or too agonizingly long. Your eyes finally flickered away from him to your ringing cell, your lips rounded in surprise. “Sorry, this’ll be quick,” you gave him a sheepish little chuckle, manicured nails plucking the cell as you stood upright. To match, Leon’s cock sprung upright too. As you waltzed off, humming a small hello through the phone, all he could really see or hear was your bare thighs and waist, easily small enough for him to grab. And your ass? By god. He could see it from your physique. You were soft. Far softer than any of the ladies he had worked with for the last miserable 10 something years, all of which could easily deck and curbstomp him for having the thoughts he had towards you. 

You had a habit of leaning on one leg, Leon had noticed by the third class. You’d rest on one leg, your hips jutting out in that direction while the plush of your thigh squeezed beneath the hem of your pants to give a small pudge. Denim shorts day was a particular treat for him. Shame that today wasn’t one of those days, but it was still shorts day, so it was half a win for him. 

“Fine,” Leon blinked hard, gaze snapping right back up at the sound of your reluctant little sigh, “I’ll go, sure, but I’m not going for next week’s, I have some papers coming up. I’ll see about the week after,” you huffed into the phone, swapping the cell to the other hand so you could lean on your other leg. “Yeah?” He could hear your giggle, sweet and lithe. What other way more fitting words were there to describe you? “Alright, I’ll see you tonight. See you! Mhm, bye bye!” “Sorry about that, I thought I had my phone on silent, but I must’ve forgotten,” you slipped yourself back into your seat, your gaze rising from the screen of your phone back up to find leon’s, who was watching you ever so intently. “Some friends invited me to a party,” you supplemented, mistaking his stare for one of curiosity. 

Well, he wasn’t that curious before, but he certainly was now. He had heard all sorts of things about university parties, but never got the chance to actually experience one for obvious reasons. He had just about accepted his life ended at the tender age of 21 back in Raccoon City, before it was handed over and detained by the DSO for the unforeseeable remainder of his hopefully clipped life. 

So the idea of something as normal as a party charmed him, and through the shine of his eyes, you could tell. Your head tilted, an amusing little quirk of yours whenever your attention was hooked on something and the cogs in your head was turning. 

“You go to parties a lot?” he cleared his throat awkwardly, his turn to be fidgety under your scrutiny. He knew you were thinking. He knew you were thinking something of him, specifically. But he didn’t know what you were thinking. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, I get invited a bunch but I don’t always go,” you word trailed off into a soft drone, mind pacing with considerations before you cracked a smile, “but would you like to come to this one?” “Uh, join you to a party?” the nervous chuckle slipped past his lips before he could even think to hold it back. You didn’t seem the slightest bit dejected from his apprehension however, instead choosing to press on. “You don’t have to of course, but if you’d like, you’re welcome to come to this one, it’s an open party, so other people will be there too!” 

 Oh god, what was happening. “I’ll uh, I’ll think about it?” He did. Sort of? He slept on it, more than anything. The rest of the session was a blur, you were a fast learner who pretty much solved the remainder of your own questions once you picked up on the first couple of questions. That, and he was pretty sure all the blood meant for his head was relocated to his dick, so forgive him if he was tripping over himself in a rush to get home and jerk himself off until his dick went raw.

By the next afternoon when he had stumbled out of bed with his crotch still sticky and bedside tissues stiff, imagine his surprise when we saw that you went ahead and did him the liberty of actually emailing him the party address; he had thought you were just saying it to be nice, honestly. 

‘Hey Professor Kennedy! Here’s the address for the party, again no pressure if you don’t feel like coming, but there’ll be free drinks if you do!

Take care!’ 

He spent way more time than he cared to admit considering your offer. Somehow, you’ve reduced him from a grouch wagering bets as to whether tomorrow would be the day he bites the bullet, into still too old of a man feeling like a perverted youth with a libido to match.

He thought long and hard through the myriad of fantasies that played out while he went to shower. As his hands absentmindedly lathered his soapy, blonde locks, his gaze fixed on the water stained glass. He could picture the droplets sliding down your back and past the curves of your ass. The size of the shower would force you to press flush against his chest, his stiff mast resting on your lower back, balls against the perk of your butt. 

Would you pant as he lays his weight on you, your breast pressed up against the glass and the shaft of his dick shower in the slippery dip of your pussy? Maybe you’d mewl as he toys with your nipples, rough pads pinching and twisting at the nipples while grubby hands knead and paw at the plush of your chest. He bet he could make your breath hitch and your eyes well with tears as he feeds just the tip of his dick to your gummy walls, never pushing himself all the way in. Just the tip, until you’re begging like he was your lifeline and that you’d be his good girl. 

His jaw clenched, chest tight and knees buckled as milky fluids splattered against the glass, catching the drops of water that rolled down. Leon’s lips parted as he blinked himself back to the present, the fluorescent light making it difficult for his sight to return, his ears ringing while his chest heaved desperately for air. 

For that second that your imaginary presence coaxed his undoing, he forgot how to breathe.For as much as he wants to be your lifeline, you were quickly becoming his.