#because my first class of the day was canceled

[str4wbstudy]

It's the first day of school eve! We had snow that canceled the first day of the semester and I spent it folding clothes, making blueberry walnut bread, and playing minecraft. I'm trying to fix my sleep schedule. I was tired all day, now I'm pretty awake at an inconvenient time after crashing with my sleepy meds for a few hours.

Winter break was really nice. My school has a really short one compared to the major university in town that has like 3 more weeks to go. I didn't travel or anything as I wanted to stay home, sleep a lot and play games and watch YouTube and it made my sweet cat very happy! I partook in a hibernation like state for like 3 weeks and I wish it could be normal for humans to do that if they want.

This next semester will include grad school applications and REU applications. However, I'm not planning on getting accepted by and REU programs because 1. They're very competitive and 2. I'm planning a trip in summer and I'm registered for classes as well but I am encouraged to try.

My goal for this blog is a post a week for the next 16 weeks! They might look very different from week to week and just include my thoughts on what I'm working on, highlights of the week to remain focused, and keep positive. I was really stressed and annoyed at the end of last semester, but I got the highest marks possible, which is a relief and reassurance. I do want to enjoy myself despite the hard work!

Happy 2025!

[darthannie]

purpose statement

part two of thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Summary: After spending the night at your professor’s house, you’re left wondering what the hell you’re gonna do next.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), morning sex, kissing, praise, dom!Jim, p in v, oral, budding d/s relationship(?)

a/n: I’m back. Kinda! I'll make a post about it! But, here's part two of thesis statement! Read the first one if you'd like. Jim english professor confirmed (to me lol). I might turn this into a series but I'm not too sure yet. This one ends with kind of a cliffhanger, so there might be a part three. Anywho, enjoy!

A leg drapes over yours.

A hand grabs your stomach.

Warm air hits the back of your neck.

His nose softly brushes across your shoulder as he presses a kiss there. And all through this, you’re just barely awake. You sigh into the feeling, pressing your back against his chest. You didn’t know what time it was, and you couldn’t care less. He tightend his embrace. You try to scoot closer to him as if that was even possible. You wanted to be completely engulfed by him. You had a ton of questions, but for now, you were mute. This was as good as it was going to get. After a minute, you manage to turn around and face him before burying youself in his chest.

“Mornin’”, he sighs. 

“Ugh, what time is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He kisses the top of your head as silence settles around the both of you. 

“What’s going through your head?”, he asks. 

“Why were you in the shop that day?”

“Well… It was part dare and part curiosity. And another part of me wanted to try out a toy for the first time.”

“You left in quite a rush.”

“Well, yes a certain student graced me with her presence.”

You blush and meet his eyes, remembering the interaction. “Did you go back?”

“Oh, no.” he chuckles. 

“Why not.”

“I have my toy right here.”

“Jim…”, I said faining annoyance and rolling my eyes at him

“Sorry, sorry that was lame. However, you have to admit it’s true,” his voice darkens, “Are you gonna go home and touch yourself or would you rather have the real thing?”

Your breath hitched. “I-I’d rather have the real thing.” You placed your hand on his chest as if to confirm his existance. He was real and you were indeed in bed with him. In bed with your professor. 

He kissed your forehead, “Right. That’s exactly right… Class is cancelled by the way.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like it was as easy as that. And, apparently, it was. 

“Check your email.”

You rolled over and grabbed your phone that was magically plugged into a charger, Jim’s doing. You opened up your email and there it was. Among spam emails about the latest 20% off sale at the campus store was an email from Jim. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, class today is cancelled. See you all next week ready to work. Best, Jim”

You dropped your phone on the bed. “Jim… What? Why?”

“Because I would rather spend my day in bed with a beautiful woman.” He pulled you into a kiss. “Is that a crime?”

“Well, I just thought-“ You’re cut off by a hand reaching down to you hip. His other hand squeezes between the mattress and your body. You yelp as he guides you to straddle him. You help him along and he looks up at you, teasing you as he cocks his head to the side. “You thought what?”

Your hands lay on his chest. You feels him hard under you. “I thought it was a one night thing. I thought that was it.”

“Oh, no, love I meant it when I said you were mine. I mean. If you want to be of course.”

“What like a friends with benefits situation?”

He tilted his head side to side as if weighing his options. “Yeah, something like that.”

You jaw unhinged to speak but no sound came out. You sat back on his lap, feeling him dig into you a bit more. He spoke before you could muster anything up, “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I don’t want to force you into any type of arrangement or anything. However-“

“However,” you grinded your hips, “what?”

He held in a groan, “However, I really want to be inside you right now, love… Please…” His hands rested on your thighs and he lifted his hips to show you how much he wanted it. He pulled you down into a kiss and wrapped his arms around you. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him away to make room. You moved down to kiss his neck. His breath got caught in his throat as you liked a stripe up his neck and reached down under the covers. He let out a hiss as your hand went under his underwear and wrapped around his cock. 

“How are you already so hard?” You woke up ready to tease and he only bucked his hips up in response as you released him.

“Baby, please-“

“Please what?”

He moaned again. “I need-“

“Need what?”

He exhaled, “Fuck.” He flipped her over so she was on her back. He hungrily kissed her neck and nipped at her ear. He grabs onto one of her tits and feels the weight of it in your hand. He moves down to suck on it as she moan his name. He pulls back up and kisses your lips. “Tell me I can take what I want.”

“Jim, I-“

“Tell me, love. Tell me I can take whatever I want.”

You have never been more turned on in your life. You looked him in the eye and say “You can take whatever you want.”

You didn’t even realize he was lining himself up with your wet hole. He plunged into you right as you finished your sentence. He moves in slow thrusts and focuses on you, wanting to see take in you expression. 

He looks down at your body. He wants nothing more than to worship every inch. Everything about this is wrong. It should have been avoided at all costs, but instead of focusing on that he focuses on draging his hand the curve of you hips. He focuses on how your breast fits perfectly in his hand. He focuses on the taste of your lips. It doesn’t matter how wrong this is. He wants all of you.

You’re sweating. Your hair is messy. Nothing about you is put together, and he thinks you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you are so fucking gorgeous.” He kissed her right as he finished his sentence. 

“You’re amazing,” he kissed your cheek, “and you’re a damn good writer.”

He whispered the last part into your ear and kissed your neck. Your giggle turned into a moan as you felt him shift to a new spot inside of you, suddenly hitting where you needed him most.  A groan left him as he repositioned himself, thrusting harder and moving to cup your face. Desperate. He was desperate for you.

You pulled him closer to you, needing to feel his body against yours again. He picked up the pace when your fingers laced through his hair, guiding his mouth to your neck. Your other hand firmly held is arm to brace yourself for an orgasm that has yet to come. He nipped at your neck, careful not to leave marks. All the sensations at once motivated you to let go of his arm and reach for your clit. He chuckled and removed your hand from between your bodies, earning him a whimper. He pinned your arm above your head. 

“Ask me.” You only whimpered in response. 

“Go ahead, use your words. Ask me.“

A quiet “please” was all you could utter. 

“Please, what? Please stop?” he said as he slowed his pace. 

“No!” 

“Then, what? What do you want to do, love?”

“I want to rub my clit while you fuck me.” You spoke barely above whisper and he heard you, but it didn’t matter. He wanted you to beg. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

You groaned, growing more needy and annoyed as every second passed. “Please…”

“Say it, babygirl.” He thrust suddenly. Hard and deep.  

“Ah! Please, let me rub my clit while you fuck me. Please, please, please!” 

He grinned and gripped your wrist. He moved your arm in between your bodies and you immediately began touching yourself. Your head tilted back as your eyes rolled back and closed. It was better than anything you could have imagined. You opened your eyes to find Jim looking down and staring where your bodies met. He slowed down and watched as he entered you. 

“Jim, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

He pulled out and watched your expression twist from one of pleasure to one of desperation. 

“Jim,” you drew out his name, “fuck, why!”

“I need to taste you.” He started to move down.

“Jim, please. Just-“

“Are you my good girl?”, he challenged you

You nodded and he shook his head. 

“Words.”

“I’m a good girl.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m a very, very good girl.” 

“Then let me eat this pussy.”

He moved down til his face was between your legs. He licked from your wet hole to your clit. You moaned as he licked and sucked. After a few seconds he stopped. 

“Do you deserve my cum, baby? 

“Yes! Please. Please, I deserve it!”

“Tell me you want me. Tell me how bad you need me.” His voice was low. He needed to hear you say it. 

“I want you. I really, really want you.. Fuck, I need you.” You let out a long moan as he went back to your clit with more determination than before. You pressed his head deeper between your legs as he devoured you. He reached up to grab your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You bucked your hips up and he moved with you. 

“I want you inside me. I want your cum inside me again. I want it over and over and over again.” 

He pulled back for air, cursed under his breath, and quickly lined himself up again. 

You kissed him as he entered you slowly again. The kiss was messy and wanton. You tasted yourself on his tongue. His thumb rubbed your clit and your hips absentmindedly met his. 

“Jim,” your voice thin, “I’m gonna-.” 

“Let go, love. I’m right behind you.” 

He let you ride your high before he finished inside you. Spent and panting he didn’t dare move. You were sweaty, exhausted, and experiencing pure bliss. His hands caressed your sides as he soothed you. It was only when you both came down that he pulled out and dragged you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were so good,” he whispered, “You were so good for me. So perfect for me...”

You hummed and cuddled into his chest. You felt a bit of awkwardness starting to creep in. You didn’t know how to feel. Submitting to him even the tiniest bit felt like a burden on him, even if he indulged in your every desire. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what to even say in return to you were “so perfect”. You went a little rigid and moved away from him just enough to lift your hand. 

“Thank you. Nice job. Go team.” You mentally facepalmed. You couldn’t figure out what else to say, so you landed on something you’d say after a corporate team building exercise. Or, at least, it felt detached enough that you wouldn’t have to confront your feelings for him.

He laughed and obliged the high five. Then, he laced his fingers with yours and gave the back of your hand a kiss. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Darling, why are you getting awkward on me now?” 

You looked up at him and lost yourself in his eyes. He stared back at you with a newfound curiosity. He was searching for a way into your head so that he could finally have some clarity in his life. He just wanted to know if he was right about something, someone, this time. 

“I’m not getting awkward I’m just-“

“Deflecting.” His look said “I’m right aren’t I?” and you half rolled your eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his thumb against your shoulder. “You, my dear, need some advice.”

“Dear god, here comes Professor Ji-.”

“Let. Go.” The soft smile on his face made you feel safe instantly.

You exhaled though your nose, “Pardon?” 

“Let go. Give into… this, whatever this is. Just let go. Let it happen. I’ll be here to catch you.”

“I… How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. But, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“No, not me as your professor. Me as your-“

“As my what? What are you to me exactly? You’re not my partner. We’re not dating. So you as my what?” His comment through you for a loop. You were apprehensive. The last thing you wanted to do was get too attached. 

“As your escape.”

He was right. You desperately needed this. It was an appitite you could never satiate. Yet, you laid with the only person that ever fulfilled your needs and you wondered how much more he could do for you. You wondered how much further you could go, how much deeper this dynamic could go. How much of himself he was willing to give to you? Not to mention, how would you keep this life separate from your life at school? You were both adults, but things like this cloud a persons judgement. 

He continued, “I know you. I can tell what you enjoy just from your writing. You write about romance and relationship dymanics often. I can tell what you’re into based on your word choice alone. I believe it was you that wrote “There’s a certain type of desperation that takes over when you give yourself, your body, to someone else.” I know you, darling. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you. Just let me.”

[iamconstantine]

arcane characters as college staff

Mel

History professor 

Refers to all students by (honorific) (surname)

Nothing but praise on ratemyproffesor

“I didn’t like history until I took Professor Medarda’s class” 

Doesn’t write scholarly articles, just giant ass books that she pumps out almost every year somehow

Quickly responds to emails. No response = its in the syllabus 

“Is there any make up work I can do to get my grade up—“ Absolutely not

But if you go the writing center you can get extra credit

Every year her students ask for an extension on the final project and every year she gives a long and furious rant about how the project was visible online from Day 1 and they had all semester to work on it

She has a beautiful office that looks like a miniature library and she only sees students by appointment

Jayce

Physics professor

Is a prolific author but somehow can’t figure out how to set up the course online

Prints cheesy physics memes 

Every zoom meeting begins with 1000 messages saying “professor Talis we can’t hear you your mic isn’t on” every. time.

you can come see him in his office any time, door’s always open

but his office is so messy you probably won’t be able to sit because he has a stack of papers on every chair

“Everyone got this question on the exam wrong so I’m going to give everyone credit because that means i didn’t teach it properly”

Always throws an end-of-year party at his place 

Caitlyn

English Literature professor 

would win best dressed of the staff, always shows up in the slacks-and-blazer fit

“To understand why the narrator wears red shoes, we need to take a look at the sociopolitical state of Edinburgh in 1864.”

if you reply to a discussion board post with just “I agree” you’re not getting credit and it isn’t up for discussion 

Never reads contemporary fiction. The “newest” book she’s read is The Great Gatsby

“We’re not having a party but if you want to bring snacks and soda to the last day of class that’s fine”

Covers a lot of authors but it somehow always comes back to Emily Dickenson

Is that teacher that assigns 400-page books every week

Constantly publishing in lit journals (rumor has it she writes steamy open-door romance books under a pen-name but no one has confirmed this)

Ekko

Art professor 

You have to actively screw up to get a bad grade with him

He wrote thousands of letters to the board until they caved and gave the class a proper kiln

“Write a three-page essay explaining why AI art is not art and insisting otherwise is spitting in the face of humankind. Double spaced. Due Friday 11:59”

Throws back coffee. Has a coffeemaker in the studio. Two of them. 

“Hey guys some of you are submitting assignments at 2 in the morning. It can wait until the next day. Please get some sleep.”

He’s created awe-inspiring pieces but if you just wanna paint a frog wearing a hat he’ll say “that’s cool”

Says he knows who banksy is but will never tell

He gets way too deep in the zone. Once reached for his coffee cup while painting, drank paint water instead. Didn’t notice.

Jinx

Chemistry professor 

If you email her the response will be “k” or “no” and nothing else

Waits until twenty minutes after the class begins to email everyone that class is canceled 

Never wears a coat, goggles, or gloves. But will call out students if they don’t

takes 5 years to post grades

“Look I’m not remembering any names. Too many. If I’m talking to you I’ll just point”

Puts a meme on the projector every day. Mostly incomprehensible. Picture of a horse on an beach and it just says “Zimbabwe”

lowest score on ratemyprofessor

someone creates a website called ratemystudent and administration has no proof that it was her because technically the students with bad scores being the same students that get bad grades in her class can be coincidental 

Viktor

Biomedical engineering professor 

Only professor who still uses chalkboards

First day of class is first day of class. No reviewing the syllabus, turn to page 34 in your textbook.

Puts things in the syllabus to catch people who use ChatGPT. If you’re caught, you’re removed from his class. Immediately. You will not get to plead your case.

Most of his cited sources are himself

Literally begs students to thrift their textbooks online instead of buying them from the school. Provides free PDFs as often as he can.

He reads journals every day and will write personal letters to authors he disagrees with

If a student asks a particularly dumb question he’ll step out of the room for ten minutes to compose himself and then resume teaching like nothing happened

Vi

Not a professor, works at the on-campus gym and leads clubs

Constantly curses without batting an eye. Students will leave class with their very uptight professor then come to the soccer club where vi walks in like “sorry I’m late guys i had a motherfucker of a headache this morning”

Please don’t ask her about anything that isn’t club or sport related. If you ask for directions or how to get in contact with student services she’s got nothing

If she refs for a game and you’re on the opposing team you’d better watch yourself. She will rip you a new one if you break any rules. One time a player grabbed one of her member’s mask during a game and he left crying after Vi was done with him

Students run into her at the local hangouts a lot but it’s never awkward. just reminds you not to party too hard before the game tomorrow 

Leads pretty much every club but dance. Wouldn’t admit it but she has no sense of rhythm and refuses to even do it as a student

You can call her coach or captain or just Vi, whatever you want. But if you call her Violet she’ll stare you down until you correct yourself

Heimerdinger

Anthropology professor 

Spends the first day of class getting to know everyone. “We’re going to go around and give our names and a fun fact about ourselves!”

Gives the “Nacirema” assignment and can’t wait to tell everyone the catch

His classroom is filled with artifacts. Don’t ask about any of them because it will take up class time

If you can’t make it to class he sends really nice responses saying he understands, then checks in when you come back

The only thing that puts him in a bad mood is the “why do anthropologists study dinosaurs if anthropology is about people” question. He’s old and tired 

Keeps thinking about retiring, keeps changing his mind

Silco

Political science professor

His classroom is bare and blank. No life. Just fluorescent lights and chairs.

Brags about how few people pass his class

Very strict on attendance. Too many absences and you’re out. 

If the assignment is due at 11:59 and you turn it in at 12:00, it’s late

“I am quite interested to hear why you believe you are deserving of a higher grade when you’ve spent less than thirty minutes attending all of my classes combined. Please, continue.”

Will straight up roast other professors no problem. Encourages students to pass it along

He encourages debate but the only thing students debate about outside of class is whether he’s hot or creepy af

Final project is a choice between A) A ten-page essay on why there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, or B) a presentation on why the country is doomed

Vander

Education professor 

Makes his own series of Crash Course-esque videos

Comes to class in jeans at best. Sweats, sometimes. 

He has one coffee mug that says #1 Dad and he refuses to use anything else

He puts fun questions on his exams, like riddles. If no one gets it, he actually gets sad

Whenever he erases the whiteboard he always misses a spot. He’s that professor.

If he catches you plagiarizing, you get one pass before he reports it. But you have to come to his office so he can tell you how disappointed he is and how much potential you have

He gives a seminar about how worried he is for the future of education and the wellbeing of the next generation and everyone leaves feeling guilty. Everyone.

Make a pop culture reference in class and everything will grind to a halt so you can explain it to him. Visuals help.

Sevika

Librarian

If you play music in the library she’ll walk up to you and just go “are you joking”

Have a phone call on speaker and she’s hanging it up for you

There’s signs telling you to be quiet every three feet

If you see her outside of school no you didn’t

She’s in charge of leading classes on accessing academic databases and she fucking hates it

Somehow knows where every book is down to the shelf. She’ll tell you what you’re looking for before you can finish your sentence

technically she’s supposed to do a walkthrough before closing for the night but if you can’t read the library hours on the signs it’s your fault if you get locked in

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 4

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

“Look who has finally decided to grace us with her presence!”

“Hello, Vic” I say, giving her a hug. She is my best friend from university, the first person who talked to me on my first day, and the one who always helps me and shares her notes with me when I need them. If it wasn't because of her, I don't know how I would have passed most of my exams. 

“You don't know how much I miss you, Inés.” 

“I miss you too” I say, squeezing her a bit tighter. 

After her, some of my other friends and classmates come to say hello, and then…

“Inés?” Pedri says as he leaves the classroom, his smile growing wider as he processes that I actually am real and standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Today we finished training earlier because it was recovery day, and I told myself… Why don't I stop by the campus, pay my friends a visit, and maybe invite them to have a drink all together? I can't remember the last time we did that” I shrug, making his smile grow a bit more when he understands my reference.

“I think that's a wonderful idea!” Vic says.

“Are you guys in?” I ask them. Besides Vic, I am the closest with two other guys, Ander and Nacho, and a girl, Lucía. Though she is sick and hasn't attended class today according to what they have told me.

“I can't say no to free beers” Nacho laughs.

“Pedri?” I ask him. He looks weird, as if he has seen a ghost. And his smile is completely gone.

“I…”

“Gordiiiiii!” someone with a very high pitched voice screams.

“Not her” I hear Vic say before rolling her eyes.

“Who?” I ask.

“Hello, gordi” the girl says, completely ignoring us all and hugging Pedri by the neck before forcing him to kiss her. Because the one screaming and calling him “gordi”, is Nerea. His girlfriend.

“Hi” he replies, his arms limp by his sides. 

“Aren't you happy to see me?”

“I am.”

“Then why aren't you hugging me back?” 

“Sorry” he says, doing it the same way you see some famous people do when they take photos with fans and they are uncomfortable or don't want to touch them. “I just wasn't expecting to see you today. Didn't you have class until lunch time?”

“I did, but they canceled it all because our teacher got sick” she shrugs.

“Shame” Pedri sighs. “I mean, I feel bad for your teacher. Because there seems to be some virus going around, Lucía also is sick.”

“Lucky you, you have a future nurse taking care of you” she giggles before booping his nose and now making me roll my eyes. I just hope no one has noticed. 

“Anyway…” Nacho says. “Should we get going? I could do with that beer right now.”

“Wait, were you going some… You” Nerea says after checking the people around her and realising she isn't alone. “Shouldn't you be kicking a ball or whatever it is you do?”

“Hello to you too, Nerea” I reply with my best smile. We have only met a few times, but every single one of them, she's looked and talked to me as if I smelled like rotten cheese. “And no, no kicking a ball for me today.”

“And don't you have anything else to do? Anywhere else to be?”

“Nerea…” 

“What?” she says, looking at Pedri. “She is kind of famous, isn't she? Or that's what you say. Famous people have busy lives.”

“Yes, Inés is famous in the football world and her life sometimes is a bit hectic” Vic says, linking her arm with mine. “But unlike others, she doesn't forget about her friends or where she comes from, and always finds a moment to be with them.”

“She is one of those down to earth ones” Nerea says with a fake smile.

“Exactly” Vic replies. “And now if you'll excuse us, we have to go” she says before starting to walk away, dragging me behind her.

“Pedri, aren't you coming?” Ander asks him.

“I…”

“We are” Nerea says, grabbing his arm and starting to walk.

“I think we are gonna need something stronger than beer to deal with her” Vic whispers.

“What?” I chuckle.

“She's become insufferable, Inés. I don't know what has happened to her, but… You'll see” she says while I look back at Nerea and Pedri. 

She's texting with her free hand, the other definitely digging into his arm as he tries to get free and walk next to Nacho and Ander. You can see it on the way his face twists.

And maybe I am a bit (or very) biased here and I'm basing this in all the romantic movies I've watched and my own feelings, but that… that's not how a happy and in love couple looks like.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Thank you very much” Nacho smiles at the waiter after he brings us our drinks. “Should we make a toast?”

“To Inés” Ander says. “To having an amazing season and coming to visit us more often.”

“Especially if it means free beer” Nacho adds, making us all laugh. All, but Nerea, who didn't want anything to drink and is just sitting as close to Pedri as their chairs allow her to. And him… He keeps looking as miserable as he did before, the chuckle he just left after Nacho's comment being the saddest one I've heard in a long time. Who is this guy and what has this woman done to the funny and cheeky one I know?

“To Inés!” Nacho says.

“To me” I smile when they all raise their drinks.

“Woah, careful there” Vic laughs when Ander almost chokes with his. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. But don't move.”

“What?”

“Don't move, Victoria” he says, sinking a bit in his seat.

“Why?” she asks with a confused look.

“Just don't move!”

“Wait… isn't that girl behind Vic the one I saw you with the other day?” I ask him. 

“What?” Vic says, quickly turning around. “She is! Ander, are you trying to hide from her?”

“Maybe” he shrugs, sinking in his chair a bit more and covering his face with his drink.

“What did you do this time?” I laugh.

“Nothing.”

“Ander…”

“I did nothing, Inés. She's the one who does… things.”

“Things?” Pedri asks him, arching an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, things. Like… intimately.”

“Is she into bdsm or something?” Nacho laughs. “Oh my God, she is!” he says when Ander’s face turns bright red. 

“Holy shit” Pedri laughs, finally sounding like himself.

“It isn't funny, ok?” Ander says, sitting up once the girl has left. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Yes, let's talk about something else” Nerea says. “Like Inés, for example.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. As a famous football player, you must have a bunch of boys sliding into your dms.”

“Not really.”

“No? Why?” 

“I don't know” I shrug.

“C'mon, Inés. You know why” Nacho says. “People believe you and Víctor are secretly together, and they are scared of him. Especially knowing the way he is on the pitch” he chuckles.

“But we aren't.”

“Aren't you?” Nerea asks me. “Because I've seen the comments he leaves on your Instagram posts, all the hearts and heart eyes emojis. And you are constantly doing videos and campaigns together.” 

“I also leave those emojis on Leah Williamson’s posts, and that doesn't mean we are together” Ander says.

“Maybe because you aren't his type? Like at all?” Vic laughs.

“Yeah, well. Little details” he shrugs.

“But if you aren't together, why does he do that?” Nerea asks me. 

“Because he's hoping that it will somehow make Inés fall in love with him” Vic says.

“Fall in love? I think he's trying something else, Vic” Nacho says. “Something like what Ander and that girl did, but a bit more gentle.”

“Nacho!” Vic and I say, hitting him at the same time. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” he apologises. “But you all know that's what he wants.” 

“He isn't the first person I've seen trying to do that, tho” Nerea says. “To somehow try to convince someone to sleep with them by leaving that kind of comments… or by liking all their Instagram posts” she says, looking at me. 

Shit. She's noticed. Of course she's noticed! It's her boyfriend’s Instagram, Inés! If Carla noticed after just a quick scroll, of course she has too!

“Don't you find him attractive, Inés?” she asks me. “He's really hot.”

“Too many muscles” I quickly say, taking a sip from my drink to somehow hide that my cheeks have started to burn.

“He could give me half of them and still have too many” Nacho laughs. 

“He isn't your type, then?” Nerea asks me again.

“Nope.”

“Then how do you like your men?”

“I don't know” I shrug.

“C'mon, Inés. We all know our type” she insists. “Like maybe you like them with brown eyes, dark hair, not too tall, with facial hair, an accent…”

“Shit!” Vic jumps when my phone starts ringing, making everything on the table shake with its vibration and stopping Nerea's description of Pedri. The others may have not noticed since my phone covered her voice when she mentioned the accent, but I have and so has he, the way he was clenching his jaw saying it all. 

“I have to take this, it's my agent” I say, getting up from my chair while Nerea doesn't take her eyes from me. I actually feel them in the back of my head the whole time I'm on my phone.

“Everything ok?” Vic asks me when I join them again. 

“I'm afraid I have to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“An interview I was supposed to be giving tomorrow has been rescheduled for today. El clásico week, you know” I shrug.

“Oh, yes!” Ander says. “I'm so sorry I can't go watch you play, Inés… But you know I'm doing this course during the weekends, and I can't skip any of the classes.”

“It's ok, don't worry.”

“Are you guys going?” he asks everyone else.

“I love Inés very much, but you all know football bores me to death” Vic chuckles.

“And I have my cousin's wedding” Nacho says. “Though if I could skip it and go to the game instead, God knows I would.”

“They are gonna give you free drinks and you love that, Nacho. You said it a few minutes ago” Vic says.

“Yeah, but the company won't be the same.”

“Aww” she says, giving him a hug. “What about you, Pedri? Are you going to the game?”

“He can't” Nerea says, stopping him before he is able to say anything. “We are going away on a romantic trip. Aren't we, gordi?” 

“Yeah” he replies, forcing himself to smile.

“Can't wait to be alone just the two of us. It's gonna be so special…” she says before grabbing him by the chin and basically forcing him to kiss her. Again.

“It's ok, guys. Don't worry” I say, trying to ignore what is going on next to me and the way Nerea is giggling. “We'll meet again soon and make up for today and the game.”

“Will you be paying for our drinks?” Nacho asks me.

“I will, don't worry. And I better get going. I'm meeting my agent for lunch and I can't be late.”

“Then let me give you a hug” Vic says, getting up from her seat. “You are so lucky you won't have to deal with Nerea and her jealousy anymore…” she whispers.

“What?”

“She's so jealous of you, Inés” she whispers even lower before looking at her. She is now basically making out with Pedri's neck, him looking the other way while being as stiff as a wooden plank. “Anyway, good luck, and go Barça or whatever it is you say.”

“Go Barça is fine” I smile. “Goodbye, guys.”

“Pedri, where are you going?” Nerea says when he finally frees himself from her grip and stands up.

“To the bathroom. Am I not allowed to?” he says, sounding harsher than he probably wanted to.

“Yes, of course. Go.”

“Thank you” he says, starting to walk in my direction. “See you soon, Inés” he says as he passes by my side, his smile (the one I like and that I know is real) making my stomach do funny things. 

“Bye” I manage to say, my voice coming out too low. And why? Because he has touched my fingers as he walked past me.

And even though it's been the slightest of touches, it's been enough to send electricity all the way up my arm and to other parts of my body, something I hope no one else has noticed, and definitely not Nerea.

Definitely not her.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

the way u tuck charles hair behind his ear like a dainty elf princess whenever u draw him sends me every time, i know erik would agree 🙏🏻

i fear im adopting 'dainty elf princess' into my vocabulary here on out thank you for this wonderful gift anon

might you accept my small gift in turn ... i was inspired ...

[annunakitty]

"First" day of the semester fit

[todayisafridaynight]

Just finished Gaiden like 40 minutes ago! I gotta head to my friend's stream Right Now so I can't say much even if I wanted to but yeah no verdict hasn't changed LMAO 1000% my favorite Kiryu game... There's tons and tons I CANNOOOT fucking wait to see you react to live and talk to you about after (this being the first game release I'll experience with you, after all) But I Will <3 If all goes to plan I'll actually have finished it thrice by the time you stream, so see you then <3

GAME ALREADY FINISHED god. POTENTIALLY finishing it three times before i even go to class on friday Christ Above....

i hope to meet your expectations when it comes to reacting to gaiden content 😩

[qumiiiquinnquin]

came extremely close to crying in class because i started to blame myself for not being good enough and not knowing how to do anything right. the whole class time, i kept telling myself that im really not cut out for this (college in general but also pursuing an art degree), and i left class thinking to myself im not meant to be in a place with other adults. everybody else knows what they're doing and acts like adults, yet i still act like a child even though im 18, a legal adult. i keep forgetting i am an adult too. im also scared being one.

im eating a large fry from mcdonalds because i havent eaten at all today. i kind of dont want to eat anymore of it because im feeling extremely anxious and sad.

[sagelasters]

barbados is a mindset

“Yes. You are now in Barbados. And so… you see Barbados, and you see America from Barbados, and you can smell the tropical land of Barbados, see only the little homes of Barbados, and that’s all you do. You just simply sleep this night in Barbados.” - Abdullah tells Neville.

Before Neville Goddard knew of the law and practiced it, his country was plunged in a state of instability. Poverty runs rampant as the global stock market crashes, sparking panic and leaving many penniless. Neville explained the vivid details of homeless people scattered all over tunnels and city square, eyes void of hope for the future. He was unemployed just like millions of others, his career as a dancer wasn’t enough to support his living. Neville lived in a basement for years with little to no income until one day, he met his friend, Abdullah. 

Abdullah was well-off and is the son of the US secretary of the Treasury, who served under the 32nd president. The differences between them were large and Neville was aware of it. He confided in his friend and told him that he has this haunting desire to visit Barbados again. The only thing that was stopping Neville though, was the lack of money. In which Abdullah says, 

“You are in Barbados.”

Of course, Neville thought he was nuts but the man decided to try and assume that he was in Barbados. That night, he went to sleep thinking that he would wake up in Barbados, only to be disappointed that he woke up in the cold basement he called his home. Neville would come back and tell Abdullah that it didn’t work, only for the latter to ignore him. Despite that Neville kept persisting and on the morning of December, he got a letter from his older brother asking him to visit his family in Barbados – his brother had paid a third class ticket. Excited, Neville told Abdullah that he is going to Barbados however, his friend was unimpressed. Abdullah told Neville that he wasn’t boarding a third class ticket, he was going to go there with a first class ticket. 

And guess what? When Neville gave his ticket to the clerk by the desk as they’re checking in passengers, they told him that someone canceled their first class ticket, therefore a spot was available for him. 

Abdullah ignored Neville when he said ‘it didn’t work’ because it did work, if Neville was assuming that he was in Barbados, they wouldn’t be having this discussion about him not being there. What can you take from this story? I would say that unfortunate circumstances don't matter, especially when we see how bad and dire Neville’s financial situation was. Come on, he was in a country torn apart by war and poverty, yet he was still able to visit Barbados. Neville didn’t think of how he’d get there, he just simply assumed that he was there, and his 3D reality follows right after. 

Barbados is a mindset. If you can imagine yourself having it and then accept that it is yours, you’re at the end. Your assumption is the fetus, continue nourishing it with beliefs and affirmations – let that child grow and become. If you drop your assumption that basically means you’re neglecting the fetus, and it will eventually die from starvation. 

It doesn't matter if you have no money, it doesn't matter if you're in an abusive situation, it doesn't matter that you barely have a roof over your head. You are already in Barbados, tune into your inner man and bask in that.

EDIT: My apologies for getting the information mixed up. Abdullah is not the son of US secretary, rather he lived in a house that was rented by the latter. Sorry for the confusion!

[redeemingvillains]

cold comfort - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.

word count: 4k

soundtrack: between the sheets - imogen heap

a/n: wait this is kind of a saga! it just kept flowing and flowing, but i'm obsessed with it! hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

When Mattheo heard that a first year in Charms cast a spell that backfired so badly it rendered Hogwarts unable to regulate the temperature in the castle, he'd nearly spit out his firewhiskey. The mental image of Flitwick, McGonagall and all of his other professors frantically trying to fix it to no avail gave him sick pleasure as he thought about all the times they'd looked down on him because of his last name. Fuck 'em he thought. Serves them right.

He'd enjoyed his twisted happiness for several days until an unexpected early spring snowstorm rolled off the mountains, leaving the castle a veritable chamber of cold. For two days now it had nearly been cold enough for him to see the white puff of his breath inside. As others scrambled for a place in front of the fireplaces, his mood darkened, making him even more sullen than usual as talk of canceling classes and sending everyone home began to circulate; home wasn't really a place he was looking to go back to.

So now he was sat in the Great Hall in a large sweatshirt with his hood drawn up around his face, the standard dress code long since forgotten, one hand wound tightly around his second cup of black tea in an effort to warm himself while the other rubbed his tired face as he listened to the incessant chatter of his friends.

He was quietly zoned out until he caught a glimpse of you walking through the large entryway. Everyone in the castle looked in disarray: mismatched sweaters, hats and gloves in haphazard layers to stay warm, but not you, you looked like a perfect snowbunny. You were wearing tight black leggings, fur-lined boots, a thick sweater and a headband to keep your ears warm that complimented your hair. Anyone looking closely enough would see the imperceptible tug of his lips into what could almost be called a smile as you made your way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench next to him.

It wasn't lost on him that his best friend was beautiful. He was well and painfully aware of the fact and had been for as long as he'd known you. But, despite the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind at the sight of you, he was determined to keep you at an arm's length. Simply put, you were too good for him, too pure. You had a smile that radiated a warmth that he could feel even now, you were caring and compassionate, smart and sweet, quick with a hug and a kind word. You were everything that he wasn't. He told himself, constantly, on repeat, that it was better to have you in his life at all than to fuck it up trying for anything more.

He subtly traced your face through the corner of his eye: your long lashes, the curve of your smile, and your warm, rosy cheeks, and just like no one but you could see his smile, no one but him noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He nudged his shoulder into yours.

"Alright?" he mumbled.

You glanced up at him, his groggy morning voice and the way his curls stuck out from his hood making you feel like you'd swallowed a pixie. You felt yourself flush, your exhaustion wearing down the mask you normally kept up around him, determined to never let him know how you really felt.

"Just tired s'all" you smiled kindly, nudging him back, coaxing what could almost be another smile out of him as you met each other's eyes. "I can't sleep for shit. No matter what I do, I can't get warm, even under a pile of blankets, in my fuzziest pajamas and a jumper" you shivered.

"Skin to skin is really the only solution" Pansy chimed in with a smirk as she sank further into Draco's arms and you rolled your eyes at the two of them. She had snuck out of your room the last few nights, leaving you not only cold, but alone too.

"Couldn't agree more" Theo said, smirking, before lifting an eyebrow at you "ready, able and at your service, babe" he said, opening his arms to you as you swatted him away, laughing at his attempt to flirt with you. He smiled widely and laughed back before glancing over your shoulder at Mattheo whose eyes were narrowed in his direction.

"What, mate, it's not like you're any help, what with your strict 'no sleepover policy'" Theo chirped at him, referring to the fact that regardless of how many girls came in and out of Mattheo's bed, (which was a sizable number) not one had ever stayed the night, always kicked out in the end, despite the fact that they hoped to be the one to break his streak.

You turned to see Mattheo shooting daggers at Theo.

"S'my bed" he muttered, "more than happy to have someone in it for awhile, but a lad's got to get his rest, yeah?" he laughed and the guys laughed back.

You faked a bitter smile, returning your attention to your breakfast in front of you. You weren't naive but that didn't mean you had to sit here and listen to this, you nibbled a piece of dry toast, the mental image of Mattheo with other girls making you nauseous.

Mattheo's smile fell from his face as he watched your reaction, and wished for the thousandth time that he could tell you that he made that rule because of you. Because if he couldn't have you, then he wasn't going to waste time getting closer than necessary with anyone else; the nights he spent alone his bed his punishment for who he was, the fact that he'd never be good enough for you.

You stood abruptly and shot him a small smile as you moved to leave. He said your name quietly and reached for your hand, but you were gone before you realized it.

That night you crawled into cold sheets that felt almost damp with a chill. Despite the pile of blankets and your thick pajamas, you couldn't get warm or comfortable, tossing and turning as small shivers ran through your body and Pansy's words echoed in your head. You were desperate for warmth at this point, desperate for a good night's sleep, but there was only one bed you wanted to crawl into, and it was with the only person who refused to share it.

Surely he would break his rule for you, for his best friend? you thought; things were different between you two. But were you willing to try, to embarrass yourself if he said no? You rolled around for another hour before climbing out of bed.

Mattheo was in a fitful sleep, which was not unusual for him; his nights were frequented by nightmares, leaving him constantly groggy and grumpy, but when he heard your voice, he was sure he was dreaming, a good dream, a great dream at that.

"Mattheo" you were whispering.

He turned to see you standing at the other side of his bed and was incredibly confused, until you moved to get in... and then he panicked. He panicked because he had thoughtfully planned every way to avoid this exact situation from the moment he met you, knowing that at this proximity he wouldn't be able to control himself. And he was right. You were close, too close. He could smell your shampoo, like warm vanilla, and his hands moved on autopilot towards you, his fingers twitching to bring you closer to him before he stopped himself, inches short.

"Whatareyoudoing?!" he whisper-mumbled in frustration, the words coming out angrier than he'd intended at the range of emotions he was feeling.

You froze, your heart shattering. He was angry. He didn't want you here, he didn't want anyone here. He was going to kick you out and you'd be mortified, your friendship would never be the same, you'd taken things too far. You felt a scratch in your throat as tears threatened to spring forward.

Even in the thick darkness, Mattheo could see that he'd upset you, able to read your expressions better than his own. He could see the wobble of your bottom lip as your wide eyes looked at him and he hated himself and the situation all the more for it.

"Please Matty, m'just so cold, I can't sleep" you whispered, using the nickname that was strictly forbidden for anyone but you that made him melt.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply, trying in his sleepy state to figure out a solution as he felt his strength waning; the figment of his every daydream was literally begging to be in his bed and he was certain he couldn't trust himself, certain that this only ended one way.

You took in his rigid form and his frustration and began to backpedal, moving to leave.

"M'sorry, it's okay, I'll go, maybe Theo—"

And you didn't even get a chance to finish your thought before you felt his large, warm hands wrap around your middle and tug you across the bed and into his chest, quickly but gently.

"C'mere" he mumbled as he settled you against him, chest to chest, your head tucked under his.

Your arms wound around him naturally, your legs intertwining, the two of you fitting together effortlessly, perfectly, like puzzle pieces. You let out a small giggle as you nuzzled into him, making yourself comfortable.

He could feel your warm breath as you let out a contented sigh, the innocent sound somehow sinful to his ears as he willed his mind to stop wandering in every direction it wanted to as he felt every dip and curve of your body against his own despite the layers of clothing between you. He kept his hands at your back, unmoving, for a moment unsure if he was even doing this right, unable to remember the last time he'd cuddled with anyone.

"Thank you" you whispered, your voice already sounding relaxed and sleepy to him as your fingers traced patterns on his back, a lavish feeling that released every ounce of tension he had been holding.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as his arms hugged you to him firmly and you felt a sensation like melted honey spreading through every inch of you, as he rubbed your back, warming you from your heart to the tips of your toes for the first time in days as you fell into a hazy sleep.

The first thought Mattheo had was that he felt heavy, his limbs felt weighted and his mind felt calm. Rested he realized after a moment. His brain was slowly turning back on, piecing together the dream he'd had, it was a dream, right? You, in his bed, in his arms, pressed against him, nuzzling into him, contented and happy. It felt so real, real enough that he could still smell you, the intoxicating scent of your shampoo, could still feel you in his arms, could still ghost his fingers down your back. You hummed in response and his eyes fluttered open only to realize it was definitely not a dream.

You were here, with him, in his bed, had been all night, your body still wound perfectly in his, neither of you having let go of one another or moved an inch; if anything, it was like you melded together even further. Fuck this is nice he thought as he looked down at you curled into his chest. This was everything, everything he'd hoped it would be. He wanted to stay like this for as long as physically possible, the looming fear of it having to come to an end already upon him.

Suddenly, a pillow came flying onto the bed, askewing the thick curtains that draped around his four-poster.

"Oi wake up, will you, Riddle? Shit, it's almost noon and we've got practice in an hour" came a shout as a cacophony of voices followed behind it into the room.

You stirred in Mattheo's arms just as a hand reached through his curtains to pull them aside.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Days" Blaise drawled, annunciating every word as the others gathered around him.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it"

"Let's gooooooo!!"

"Mattttyyyy!!!" each of them shouted as the jumped up and down in excitement at the sight of you in his bed.

"Fuck off" he said, grasping the pillow they'd thrown at him and hucking it back at them, causing them to disperse as they fell apart with laughter and more cheers.

He felt you shift next to him and looked back to see that you had pulled the covers over your head, just the tips of your fingers and the top of your head visible. He yanked his curtain closed before leaning back towards you and gently grasping the blanket near your hands to pull it back.

While not the wakeup you had hoped for nor expected, Mattheo pulling back the blankets with a soft sleep-ridden smile on his face and his rumpled curls to see you was a mental image that you were sure you would think about every day for the rest of your life. You were swimming in a sea of him, engulfed in his smell, like pine and amber, and you were delightfully warm; he was going to have to pry you out of here.

"Hi" he said quietly in his morning voice.

"Hi" you whispered back.

You looked perfect. He may have thought about waking up to you, with significantly less clothing on and significantly fewer onlookers, but he'd never considered how beautiful you would look, your eyes not all the way open yet, your hair spread like a blanket of its own and fuck if he didn't want to kiss you. His eyes drifted lazily to your lips and back again and he swore he saw a flash of something in your expression in response, curiosity, or perhaps confusion.

"I should—" he started, shaking his head clear.

"—Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn't realize the time—"

"No problem, take your time—" he said as he rolled out of bed to more cheers and shouts as he shepherded his friends out the door to give you some privacy.

You pulled the sheets back over your heard, burying yourself further into his blankets, reveling in the warmth his body had left before squealing with excitement at the way your day had started.

You were afraid that things would be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't, you were in your easy, unbothered rhythm together. Besides the giggles and teasing from your friends, nothing had changed... including the temperature. As the day went on the warmth you had woken up in faded and you felt progressively more cold settling into your bones, already dreading the cold night ahead of you.

Spending the night with Mattheo was a nice reprieve, but not something you intended to make a habit of, certain you didn't want to live through more teasing nor get your hopes up trying to read into how intimate it had felt.

You were leaving dinner, arms wound around yourself at the chill in the air when you heard a voice calling for you. You turned to see Mattheo jogging after you.

"Hey!" he called.

"Hey" you smiled back, glancing up at him as he fell into step with you.

He smiled readily back at you; he'd seemed peppier today, letting the ceaseless taunting roll of his back with a shrug of his shoulders, the unwillingness to turn everything into an argument or fistfight very uncharacteristic of him.

"Yeah, so—" he started to say, as he looked around for a moment and carded his hand through his hair. He took in how cold you looked and all he could think was how badly he wanted to fix it. "—About last night or whatever...I know it's still fucking frigid, if you wanted to come by or sleep with, er, stay with — in my — yeah, you could do it again if you wanted?"

You couldn't hide the smile the spread widely across your face, nor the way your eyes sparkled mischievously as you stopped walking to face him.

"Mattheo Riddle, are you asking me to sleep with you?" you said flirtatiously, leaning towards him.

He stopped breathing. Your proximity and the words coming out of your mouth snatched every last breath and every last thought he'd had.

"Don't fuck around with me" he said through smirked lips, his voice low and measured, holding a hint of playfulness, but also a warning.

You laughed softly back but didn't back down.

"I'll see you tonight" you said as you continued your path back to the common room, leaving him gazing after you.

Your new outfit that night wasn't lost on him. You were wearing a form-fitting pair of soft pants and a matching top that hung slightly off your shoulder, revealing the lace of a bralette. You crawled into bed beside him, smiling contentedly and curling into his arms like you were married, like this was the most normal, easy, simple thing in the world, and yet it still took him a minute to really comprehend the situation, to relax.

He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Blaise shouted across the room, "Goodnight Theo!"

"Night, Blaise!" Theo shouted back.

"Night, Enz!" Blaise said again.

"G'night!" Enzo replied.

Mattheo rubbed a hand over his face at the antic.

"I swear they don't do this every—" he started.

"—Night, Draco!" Blaise shouted.

"And Pans!" Theo chimed in.

"Full fuckin' house in here" Enzo said.

"Goodnight!" she giggled back.

"Goodnight Mattheo..." Blaise said slowly, drawling out his name.

Mattheo didn't reply.

"GOODNIGHT YN" they each shouted.

You laughed, "Goodnight!" you said back and they cheered as Mattheo turned and buried his head into your shoulder in embarrassment, letting his body weight fall on you in exasperation.

You laughed at his reaction, instinctively bringing a hand to tangle in his curls and hold him to you before you could stop yourself. It was decidedly more intimate than anything that had happened between you before, but it had just felt right, something about pulling him into you, comforting him. You paused after a moment, catching yourself... running your hands through his hair should not make you feel this way; suddenly, you were very very warm.

As if he could sense your reaction, he lifted his head just slightly to meet your eyes, his face inches from yours.

He had to feel your heart hammering in your chest at this proximity, right? As he searched your face, it felt like a veil had come down between the two of you after a night spent together on top of years spent dancing around one another like you didn't know exactly what this could be. On cue, the room around you fell deeply silent as the others settled into sleep.

Your hand slowly dropped to trace his cheek.

"YN" he said in a low voice, cautious, guarded, his tone roughly translating to "Don't".

"What?" you whispered.

"I can't" he said.

"Can't what, Matty?"

The nickname made his heart beat double-time, an impossible feat based on the way it was already drumming loudly in his ears.

"You know what" he said sternly.

"Why?" you asked, innocently, the tips of your fingers moving to trace his jaw, nearing his lips before his hand grasped yours firmly, stopping you, making you jump slightly.

His body was rigid and taught, his expression was serious, maybe even threatening to anyone but you, but all you could see was the look in his eyes that were burning with something else, something much more passionate than anger.

His words were strained, like it was a physical effort to form them.

"I. Can't. Alright? Just let it go" he said as his eyes continued to beg otherwise.

Your next words were so soft, he almost didn't hear them, might have missed them if his entire being wasn't fine tuned to hear the exact phrase.

"Kiss me" you said, somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He caught your eye and his breath caught in his throat at the way you were looking at him: your eyes wide, soft and focused on him, your chest visibly rising and falling underneath him, your body pressing against him as you wiggled your hand out of his grasp to trace his cheek. Surely he couldn't have heard you right?

"I'm not—I can't— that's not a good idea. I can't just kiss you" he said, stumbling over his words uncharacteristically.

"Why?" you asked quietly, sadly.

"No—not—fuck—" he started and stopped, trying not to upset you again.

He paused, trying to collect himself.

"Why do you think no other girl has slept in this bed?" he said seriously.

You pulled your hand back at the mention of other girls at a moment like this, but he responded by reaching to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him.

You were shaking your head.

"Because if I couldn't have you, then I didn't want anyone else. You're fucking it for me, always have been, but girls like you don't end up with guys like me and it's best I don't waste your fucking time and ruin our friendship in the process, alright?" he said resolutely, with finality.

"Matty—" you started

"—Please stop calling me that, please" he said, slamming his eyes closed, "I'm trying to maintain a semblance of self control here."

"Stop holding back!" you whisper-yelled, which caught his attention, causing his eyes to flutter open. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I want you. I've always wanted you, ask any of our thickheaded friends, they've all known for a long time."

He blinked slowly like each individual word had to register in his head. You could see him swallow, could see the sentence process in his brain as the pad of his thumb traced your cheek and you leaned into him, pressing further against him.

"Kiss me, Matty" you said.

And the last thread of his self control snapped. He leaned in, hovering close enough that you could feel the faintest touch of his lips as they ghosted against yours, teasing you.

"If I kiss you, that's it then, you're mine" he said, like it was a threat, an ultimatum, and not the best thing that's ever happened to you.

A smile spread across your lips and you nodded against his.

"All yours" you whispered back and he caught the last of your words with his mouth, his lips taking yours as both of his hands came to grasp your face firmly but gently, pulling you into him.

You could barely suppress the hum of pleasure that left you at the sensation, the relief of the feeling of his lips pillowed against yours, the tenderness and softness so opposite of everything that he was, the duality of it all had your body tingling. One of your hands grasped at his sweatshirt while the other wound around his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you as he moaned into your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and you swore there wasn't anything in the world but this moment, this feeling with him as you tasted the lingering flavor of cigarettes and peppermint that you would come to associate with him.

It was all grabbing, desperate hands and crashed lips at first, trying in moments to catch up on years of wanting, until it was tantalizingly slow, languid, purely achingly perfect and intimate. You were certain you would kiss him like this every single day, given the chance.

It could have been minutes or hours that you were lost in each other before he pulled back, and the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and marching you to the first broom closet he could find.

"I've spent just about every day for the last 5 years thinking about this, and I cannot believe I'm about to fuckin' say this, but I'm not gonna rush it. At the very least, I'm not gonna hook up with you in a room full of people" he said, before tilting his head, "Well, at least not the first time... after that, no promises."

You laughed quietly and swatted at his shoulder.

"C'mere" he said, pulling you into him.

You curled into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck, your head resting on his chest as he held you tightly, brushing soft kisses to your temple as you fell asleep.

E P I L O G U E

You had been so caught up in the events of the evening, you hadn't really stopped to consider what happens next, namely, how would you tell your friends? Just make an announcement at breakfast? Put on enough PDA that they drew their own conclusion? Take off the scarf you were wearing that was covering the innumerable hickies on your neck? Your mind was in a heady fog about it all as the group of you wandered towards the Great Hall.

You were glued to Mattheo's side, but that wasn't really unusual; his fingers brushed against your own as he shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.

"YN!" a voice shouted behind you.

You turned to see Cedric Diggory jogging towards you and you slowed your pace, as did everyone around you. Boys had to be either brave, stupid or naive to approach you when you were with your guy friends, and you weren't sure which category to put Cedric in as his eyes met their unwelcome stares but addressed you anyway.

"Sorry— yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to—" he started.

Oh no you thought.

"—Cedric, really, that's so kind—" you interrupted, trying to prevent a scene from breaking out as you felt Mattheo tense beside you.

"—You didn't even hear what I was going to say?" he said with a laugh, somewhere between offended, annoyed and amused.

"Well, think that makes the message pretty clear then, mate" Mattheo said, the anger palpable in his tone.

"Excuse me?" Cedric replied. "I was talking to—"

Oh no you thought again.

And you weren't quick enough to intervene before Mattheo had Cedric pinned against the stone wall of the hallway, his forearm at Cedric's chest, nearly lifting him off the ground as his feet dangled for purchase.

"I don't fucking care who you were talking to. From now on, you don't talk to her at all, alright?"

"What are you, her bodyguard?" Cedric sputtered as he gasped for breath.

"No" ... a pause... "I'm her boyfriend" Mattheo growled.

You tried and failed to hide the huge smile on your face behind your manicured fingers as your friends shouted behind you.

Well, that's one way to do it you thought. ♡

[salemlunaa]

USING SATS FOR THE VOID OR ON ITS OWN:

a guaranteed “method”, where all that you desire is owed to you

IM BACK BITCHES!!!

DID YALL MISS MEEEE?? BC I MISSED YOU

anyway, i know i talk alot about not needing methods, and its true, you don’t need anything but yourself to tap in to the void/“I AM” state. However i dont really see SATS as a method and i think it’s great to consider when looking at loa and shifting

“what is SATS?”

you may ask, well, that is the abbreviation for the “state akin to sleep”

as you can see, the word “akin” means something of a similar nature to, so the state akin to sleep is basically the name to describe the lightheaded, woozy state before you go to bed bed

You can visualise what you want in this state, or you can affirm, you don’t need ten thousand affirmations, one can get the point across you’re a god and the operant power so even with one vague affirmation, your subconscious mind knows exactly what your talking about.

“when will i be able to see my results?”

you may also ask, and let me tell you it is guaranteed that you why what you want as soon as you wake up. This is why this “method” is popular in the loa community because it one of those where your subconscious mind is in full control.

An example of this could be Neville Goddard’s manifesting class. He asked that his students affirm/visualise climbing a ladder during SATS. He then told them to affirm against it during the day, telling themselves that they will NOT climb a ladder. He told his students not to come back if they didn’t climb a ladder and everyone returned.

This example just shows how powerful we can be when we let our subconscious mind take the wheel. All our doubts and fears cancel out and whatever we desire becomes real and no longer remains a desire. You can use this to enter the void, visualise your void and affirm for it and you will wake up there. You can do this for absolutely anything you desire. you can use SATS on its own, a lot of people just love the void so they use SATS to get there, but affirming for your dream life or visualising you waking up in the bed of your dream reality is another method other than the void.

A lot of you may struggle with this because you either, “can’t fall asleep” or you “fall asleep too quickly” while your mind was wondering and to that i say STAY DISCIPLINED!! The same way you would stay disciplined while studying for a test or while working a shift at your job is the same way you must stay disciplined while doing this method. It’s okay to “fail” the first time, and you’re more than allowed to feel upset waking back up in your shitty “reality”. But don’t beat yourself up about it and know that you can always do it again. You can simply decide that SATS is easy for you and it will reflect. always.

And as i always say, you don’t have to wait for the night to do this, ofcourse if you have things to do you don’t need to put them on hold but you don’t need to wait for the night to come, you. an fall into this state at ANY TIME OF DAY, so there goes another excuse for you to procrastinate. Now get to it love, because i KNOW that you can do this.

WAKING UP WITH YOUR DESIRES GUARANTEED SOUNDS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE, BUT DONT LET THAT SCARE YOU. 🔮💋

[crsssie]

class cancelled. see you online - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

In the early years when he first started, Simon didn't cancel class. It was kind of well known at that point. He'd rather spend the class chattering about his wife than cancel class, so imagine everyone's surprise when he sent out the collective email detailing that he was canceling class because his wife was in labor.

What.

He sent them the slides for the day and a previous recording from a while back, letting them know that class on Thursday would be on zoom — a link that he will post onto the class canvas eventually.

He signs off the email with a photo of the baby locked by a password hidden in the slides, and he replies to everyone's congratulations once you're back in the home. He ends up staying back to teach the rest of the term from home because he was taking care of the baby

It was something briefly mentioned on his rate my professor, detailing how Professor Riley had "Moved the rest of our semester online because he wanted to stay home and take care of his wife. How did the school allow this?" and "I for one loved the online classes and congrats to him for finally being a father — 5/5 for my semester tbh" but truth was while the rate my professors ratted him out, his students didn't mention that class was moved online at the time.

So, when he lets his class know that he'll be out for a couple of weeks and moving class online, everyone sends in their congratulations early, earning a furrow of his brows and a laugh from your lips as he reads his emails to you.

"They really read their RMP reviews huh?"

"Sure did. I didn't even mention it this time. I barely talk about our daughter." He hums, hand on your bump as the second kicks at it.

"Well, I think I walked in once or twice." You hum. "Besides, they like it online."

"I do too." He mumbles, pinching at his daughter's cheeks as she giggles. "But most people don't pick up enough when you teach online."

"That's true." You take the berry from your daughter's hand as she hands one to you and presses another to Simon's lips.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

She nods, eyes glued back onto the screen as you glance at the recent check-up results.

"You bet Johnny's gonna cancel class too?"

"Heard he already told his students."

"Crazy."

[thatbitchery]

The way to stand on business is to have hard rock values and hobbies. A lot of you suffer because you're pathetic little chameleons that learned to survive their childhood by blending in and masking (I'm looking STRAIGHT at the autistics and daughters of strict dads right now. 100% straight shots being taken) and have nothing to stand on PLUS you just- don't have a life. Of course you tolerate bs you have nothing to do all day. Some of us have jobs and horses to ride and paintings to make where will I get the time to be taking BS hun I have work to do? Bark at the void or something. You have all the time in the world so you are accessible enough for people to know they can simply just- cancel plans and your spineless wet tissue ass back will give in. If you are always available why would anyone prioritize you? Get a job and hobby so you also cancel plans and make them earn you like a woman with a working mind. Get busy.

Back to the main point- you can't stand on business because yu are nothing and have nothing to stand on. I'm not trying to degrade you- mind you- its just I kinda have no choice but to look down on you when you are on the floor. What am I even on rn?

Well. The first sign someone grew up middle class is lack of a spine and intense masking. The one thing the lower class and upper class have in common is the inability to give a fack. Lower class because they have nothing to lose & upper class because they are, in fact, better than you. In a capitalist society money is a marker of status = position don't even attempt moral police me. Elon Musk can say whatever bc wtf will you do? Tweet about it? The homeless will say whatever they want, too, because what will you do? Cancel him and make him lose the job he doesn't even have? What is the worst you can do and what makes you think he won't survive it. It's the middle class that's the breeding ground for snakes because they have a shit ton to lose and do not have enough resources to avoid the consequences of it. All the doormats and snakes and chameleons and wet tissues and untrustables are in the taxpaying bracket.

The first sign someone is elite is their level of idgafness. Not fur. Not that black American express. Not Patek Phillipe. IDGAFness. The princess and the pea absolute queen princess downright refusing to sleep on a bed with a pea is elitism. On tiktok they call it black cat energy. My way or no way. The way men know what to do with you isn't how much Chanel you're dripping in is how much you will not only not take bs but how willing you are to start sheet if you need to. Conflict avoidance is middle class behavior. I know this drop dead gorgeous reeeech man that's pining for the most average a little overweight by western standards (which are world's beauty standard, don't gaslight yourself) probably a solid 3 on a good day because the left him mid date after he said something she didn't like, blocked him on all platforms and went on another date with some other guy a week later. I have seen the women that chase after him but she's the prize. Doesn't give one single F. Last I heard he booked a helicopter and she just- didn't go. Tried the guilt tripping got blocked. Tried the talking sheet and she just- moved on and made him look like an idiot. When I say the man is piniiiiiiiiiiiing like there aren't magazine cover models that would throw it back in every angle. She is the elite one here because she just doesn't care. She stands on business. Queen behavior. 10/10, I'm also very in love with her and have officially joined the competition.

You can't be elite not because you're broke and ugly but because you can't stand on business because you don't have business to stand on. A lot of you just- aren't anyone so you become everyone. Chameleon behavior. Because you are afraid of conflict. A cat scratching you knowing full well you are what feeds it is elitism. Cookie Lyon (EMPIRE) is elitism. The I will burn this building down if i need to is elitism. And I don't mean randomly picking up fights 24/7 that's being ratchet, elite women are polite and well mannered. I mean standing on business. I mean sending the order back when it's not what you ordered. I mean just not paying your stylist when they don't do what you asked. I mean stating- clearly- where your boundaries are and not taking a single step back. I mean when a man tries isht with you downright calling them out on it loudly instead of trying to hash it down or laughing your way out of it. I mean not trying to buy approval by self sacrifice. I mean letting that one coworker know actually no I will not be doing that because it's your job not mine. I mean not answering any work related calls on your day off. I mean taking all your paid leaves. I mean shaming back the people that shame you as loudly as they are trying to shame you- probably more. I mean crossing every line the second one of yours is crossed. elitism. Standing on business. Boundaries. Whis is where you end and I begin, you cross this I cross you.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was certain Maverick didn't intend to stress him out when he said you and he were the spitting image of Goose and Carole. But suddenly, for better or for worse, it was all he could think about. There is so much to look forward to with you in his life, but now he has to break the worst kind of news to you.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley couldn't seem to stop grinning. Playing the part of tour guide for your class was a pleasure. The kids made fun of Jake, which was honestly lovely, and everyone got to experience different aspects of aviation, not just flying. You even made Cyclone smile, so you'd done the impossible there. Bradley had a grin on his face for the rest of the afternoon, and Nat kept ribbing him about it.

"Are the two of you going to get married and have eighteen kids?" she asked, feigning innocence like nobody else could.

"I know you're joking," he replied as he cleaned up and organized all of the noise canceling headphones. "You know how I know? Because you know how much money I make. I could never afford eighteen kids. It's gotta be like fifteen, tops."

"You never ever even joked about having a child before!" she said, tone accusatory.

Talking about you and thinking about you made him feel calm where no relationship he'd had in the past ever really did. "Come on, Nat. You know I'm serious about this one." 

She laughed in response. "Being in love for once instead of just settling for someone to keep you company looks good on you. It's about time you stopped fucking up." He planted his hand on top of her head, scrunched his fingers, and messed up her hair. "Stop it!" she screeched as he ran away across the tarmac as fast as he could and into the hangar where he found Marty.

Bradley peeked around to make sure she hadn't followed him as he made a beeline toward the mechanic. "Hey, I can't thank you enough for today," he told Marty, shaking his calloused hand.

"It was fun," he replied. "Some of those kids are future aviators, I'm telling you."

"Violet," they both said at the same time and started laughing.

"And Oliver is a bit of a daredevil," Bradley added as he helped Marty pack up his work station. "They've been learning about aviation for months, and I know today meant a lot to them."

Marty looked a little pensive before he nodded at Bradley. "You know what," he said in response as he locked his toolbox, "go ahead and tell your girlfriend that I'll be there for her career day as long as I'm not deployed."

Bradley cocked his head. "Career day. Right. I'll let her know." 

He had no idea what Marty was talking about, but it was just about time for him to head out for the day. By the time he got home from work, you'd probably be on your way back down from Mira Mesa. His thoughts were circling around Maverick's words from earlier. If he was reminded of Goose and Carole when he looked at Bradley with you, then no wonder this felt like the real deal. It must be just that.

But he was in his head now. He was desperate to keep you, because he knew all too well what loneliness felt like, but he couldn't stand the thought of you worrying about him. And the idea of anything happening to him while he was away from you was too much to handle. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to his Bronco. Being compared to his parents felt like a blessing and a curse.

--------------------------

The evenings were getting chilly this time of year, but you changed into the dress you wore on your first date with Bradley as soon as you got home. Then you quickly packed an overnight bag. Driving to work from his house tomorrow would be a true test. Nothing was going to be a complete deal breaker for you at this point, but you hoped it didn't leave you in tears of frustration. Or have Bradley trying to scramble to find a way to try to make you happy when you already were.

Your plan for the evening was to pick up some Thai food from the place he loved on your way to his house. When you texted Bradley to let him know you were leaving your place soon and that you hoped he was hungry, he wrote back one sentence.

All I want is you.

Every time you thought it would be impossible for him to continue to set off the butterflies in your tummy, he did it again. Your face felt warm, and you ran your palm along your cheek as you thought about every little detail of the field trip while you drove. He didn't just love you, he appreciated your job and your students. Your ex didn't even let you talk about them. Bradley let them rank the cafeteria foods at the Naval base. He got Marty to give a demonstration. He got permission for them to sit in his jet and assist with air traffic control!

You moaned as you wove through traffic to get there. All I want is you. Well fuck, all you wanted was him. Your feelings outweighed the amount of time you'd known him, but you couldn't seem to make yourself pump the brakes now. When you stopped to pick up dinner, you thought back to your first date with Bradley. It wasn't very long ago, but it felt like so much had happened since then. It felt like even more had happened since he responded to your first letter. In such a short amount of time, you had fallen in love.

Your skin was tingling with anticipation as you parked in front of his house. Hadn't you been with him just a few hours ago? Why did you feel the need to run for the front door with the Thai food? Why did your heart skip a beat when Bradley opened the door in his sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and met you on the front porch before you even had a chance to knock?

"Gorgeous," he breathed against your cheek, holding you close as you tried not to squish the bag containing dinner. Then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a tee, and tugged it over your head. His mustache tickled your skin as he leaned in and whispered, "You look too good in my sweatshirt. You look like you're mine."

Your belly swooped as you promised, "I absolutely am."

"Fuck."

You laughed as you handed the bag to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Give me a minute to kiss you the way I wanted to earlier, and then we're having a picnic dinner."

Bradley started to respond with one eyebrow raised, but you didn't let him get a word out as your lips met his. He deepened the kiss immediately, and you sighed; this was how you always wanted him. You appreciated that he held back earlier, but right now, you wanted him all to yourself.

"Thank you for today," you murmured between kisses as his hand slid lower along your back. "You're the hero of Mira Mesa Elementary, and I wanted to treat you to dinner on behalf of my class."

His cheeks were a little rosy as he pulled away a bit more. "You don't have to thank me for anything. You know that. I'm happy to do anything you want."

"Stop," you whispered, burying your face against his neck. "A girl can only handle so much. Let's go eat dinner down on the beach, and maybe there will be an additional little something special for you."

You were tugging on his arm, fingers gripping his thick bicep, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm in sweats and a tee shirt. Should I change?"

"Why?" you asked, still tugging. "You look hot."

His blush deepened. "But you're wearing your dress and my sweatshirt. And I was kind of interested in snuggling on the couch."

"Let's go," you repeated, and he took a few steps toward your car with the bag of food in his hand. "We can come back and snuggle on the couch later."

While he agreed, he didn't seem to want to let you go. His hand was on yours while you drove the few blocks to the beach, and he wrapped his arm around you as you pulled an oversized beach towel out of your trunk along with a blanket. 

"Baby, it'll get chilly as soon as the sun sets."

"I'll keep you warm," you promised, running your fingers along his bare arm before taking his hand. He was quiet as the two of you walked down from the parking lot to the sand, and when you looked up at him as the warm, orange light illuminated his face as the sun sank low in the sky, he seemed contemplative. "What's wrong?" you asked, heart skipping a beat as you stopped in front of him so he was looking at you.

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

But even as the two of you ate dinner together, he pulled you snug next to his side like he was afraid you were going to go somewhere. You took a bite of the Pad Thai and then said, "I wish I thought to bring some Prosecco," but you only got a little grunt in response. "Bradley," you snapped, reaching for his chin and turning his head gently so he was facing you. "You weren't like this earlier during the field trip. You're acting strange. Do you want me to go home?"

"No," he replied with wide eyes, wrapping one big hand around your thigh and kissing your forehead. "I don't want you to go anywhere without me." With a sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I just... got in my own head about us."

"Us?" you asked immediately, scrambling to try to figure out what you could have possibly done wrong. The whole day was perfect, and now you felt yourself trying to pull away from his grasp.

"No," he insisted once more as the air grew cooler. The sky was more dark blue than orange now, and Bradley was silent for a beat before he said, "Maverick... Captain Mitchell... you met him earlier..." When you nodded, he kissed your forehead and said, "He was my dad's friend. They flew together. Maverick knew him well."

Your boyfriend's parents had been gone for a long time. "Oh," you gasped. If you'd known that earlier, you'd have taken more time to get to know Captain Mitchell.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future."

His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Everything he said was too dreamy. When you tried to take a deep breath, it hitched in your throat. "I don't understand what the problem is, Bradley. I feel the same way about you."

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

A smile found your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Is this why you're being weird and clingy at the same time?"

When he looked at you he laughed. "I guess. I'm sorry."

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He pulled you down on top of him, dinner forgotten, and kissed you with one heavy hand still on the back of your thigh. "As long as you've accepted the risks, Gorgeous." His fingers slid up a few inches as he added, "Today was incredibly fun for me, and I'm happy your kids had a good time. I'm already looking forward to visiting your school again if you want me there."

"Oh," you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his scars. "That reminds me. Career day is coming up in a few months. You'll definitely need to be there for that."

Bradley grunted and gave you a little smack on your rear end that made you gasp in delight. "See, you're telling me about this now, but I already heard about career day from Marty."

Your fingers on his bicep tightened as you tried not to moan. "I just got excited earlier," you whispered. "I promise I was going to tell you."

"Hmm... so Marty and the other aviators are more interesting than I am. I understand, Gorgeous."

His voice was teasing, and he seemed a lot more at ease now as that big hand gripped and grabbed at you under the blanket. When you shifted slightly, you could feel him through his gray sweatpants. He was a little eager, but so were you now. His occasional need to hear you reaffirm your feelings for him was something you'd always be happy to indulge.

"Will you let me prove to you that you're the most interesting? My very favorite Naval officer?"

"What do you have in mind?"

--------------------------

The first few stars were glittering to life in the sky as the horizon continued to darken from orange to purple to blue. Bradley lounged back on the oversized beach towel with one arm tucked behind his head and enjoyed the sight. It was beautiful. So was the sound of you softly gagging on his cock.

"God damn," he muttered, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feel of your mouth slowly gliding along his shaft until he was deep once again. The air was cool on his overheated skin, and the breeze was probably enough to keep anyone else from visiting this secluded stretch of beach while you treated him to your lips and tongue.

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

Your voice was light as air when you released him and playfully asked, "Do you believe you're my favorite?"

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

"You're my favorite," you said before kissing his tip and sinking those pretty lips around him once again. Your grip was firm as you sucked, and it wasn't long before Bradley was grunting and trying not to grab you too tight with his fingers. 

You were giving him head on the beach, and it was so damn hot, but you were still his sweet girlfriend. He just wanted to make you happy, and when he came, you moaned in delight until he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Then your lips were on his, and he could taste both of you there. "You're my favorite," you repeated, reaching down to carefully pull his sweatpants up while he head spun.

He groaned and wrapped his arm around your waist. "If this was your ploy to get me to agree to career day, it definitely worked. But you know I would have said yes no matter what."

Your lips were on his ear as you laughed. "Can we go home and get warmed up in the shower?"

Home. You belonged there with him. He knew it. You knew it too, even if only subconsciously. "Yeah, let's go home."

On Friday, he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you were awake in time to get to work. He packed you a lunch, grimaced when he checked the traffic on his phone and said, "I'll pay for your gas."

"I don't need you to pay for my gas, Bradley!" you insisted.

One look at your pretty face had him shaking his head. "Traffic is a nightmare. What's it going to take to get you to come back here again tonight?" he asked, handing you a mug of coffee. "Because I honestly don't mind paying a little extra in gas money to make up for the fact that I bought a house in Coronado."

You bit your lip and then asked, "How do you not understand that being with you is going to be worth the drive?"

"Save your verdict for after you've actually driven through rush hour."

He was delighted when you returned right after work for the weekend. And Saturday morning, you slept in while Bradley went for a run with Nat. He kissed you goodbye and watched you roll over onto his pillow with a soft smile on your lips. Six miles in and he was getting antsy to get back to make you breakfast.

"Are you two coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked, huffing as she tried to speak and run at the same time.

He grunted in response. You hadn't been to the Hard Deck yet, and he wasn't sure he felt like sharing you with everyone else this evening. "Maybe."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

"I'll ask how she feels about it."

But he should have known you'd want to go as soon as he mentioned it to you in the shower after breakfast. "I didn't bring anything cute to wear," you complained with a little pout.

"Baby, you could wear one of my ratty old shirts with your jeans, and you'd be the cutest thing in the place."

A smile curved along your lips, and that's exactly what you ended up wearing. Your snug jeans only looked sexier on you when paired with one of his soft tee shirts from his college days, which you tied in a little knot at the hem. He could see a peek of your skin here and there as you finished getting ready that evening, and he couldn't keep his hands off you. When the two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to have to keep you close by.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

But you were oblivious as you looked around the interior of the bar as you caught a few more gazes. He didn't love these horny guys all checking you out like the piece of fresh meat you really were. "How about a beer then?" you asked, scanning everything that Penny had on tap and pointing to your favorite.

"Solid choice," he replied, ordering two from Jimmy. And then all too soon, you were the one pulling him toward the pool table and Natasha.

"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, setting down his empty bottle and tossing a dart repeatedly up into the air with his gaze glued on you. "What do we have here, Bradshaw?"

"This is my girlfriend," he replied immediately. "Don't get any ideas."

You cleared your throat, stuck out your hand, and told Jake your name. He reached for you with a smile and didn't let go. "You must be the teacher from the field trip the other day. I'm Jake. But if you'd prefer to use my call sign, it's Hungman. I mean Hangman. Looks like Baby on Board was right."

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand.

Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

Bradley started laughing at the sour look on Jake's face. After that, you had some very pleasant conversations with Javy, Mickey and Reuben, even though he could see their eyes dip down to your chest on occasion. It wasn't really their fault that you were beautiful, so he let it slide while he played pool with Nat. Eventually you joined in with him, and you insisted on buying the next two beers plus another drink for his best friend.

"I'll be right back," you told him, playfully backing away toward the bar with a smile, and Bradley watched you the entire time you were gone.

"You are a mess," Nat informed him as if he didn't already know that.

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

"You were never this up tight when you brought Vanessa here."

His ex's name always sounded startling now when it rattled around in his head. "She was mean," he said easily. "Nobody wanted to talk to her even though she was pretty." But Bradley honestly never did feel this way about her or anyone else before you. Watching you pay Jimmy with a smile on your face before turning and meeting his eyes was enough to send him walking halfway to meet you.

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

It wasn't long before you suggested calling it a night.

----------------------------

Bradley was deep inside you, one big hand pinning your wrists above your head on his pillow. His fingers were trailing down your skin as he fucked you a little harder, and you let him talk and ramble to his heart's content while he brought you closer to where you wanted to be.

"You're perfect," he crooned, hazy gaze focused on your face. "Tell me, Baby, please. I need to know." He kissed along your neck, tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat. "Please."

"What?" you gasped, barely able to talk at all as his fingers settled on your clit.

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

His lips settled on yours as you came for him, clenching around his cock until he spilled himself inside you. His kisses were rough before turning sweet, and soon he was softly teasing your lips as he muttered, "You gonna tell me?"

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

He froze again and met your eyes. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His hands were cupping your face while he stayed buried inside you. "Gorgeous, you just made my whole fucking day."

Within the hour, he had the date saved in his phone calendar, and you were on his lap on the couch eating popcorn. "We've got time, but I'll help you pack beforehand and move everything. Javy has a truck, so I'll make sure we can use that. You could always start moving some things before that if you wanted to."

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?"

"So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a grin of your own. You yawned, exhausted in the early hours of Sunday morning. "I need some sleep or else I'll be dead on my feet at work this week. You need to show me that you can be well behaved and let me rest even after I've moved in with you."

"On it," he replied, dumping the remainder of the popcorn into his mouth before scooping you up and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

--------------------------------

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email. It was oddly enough from your school account.

Dear Lieutenant Bradshaw,

We just wanted to reach out and thank you again for taking us on a tour of North Island. Our lessons about aviation were brought to life. It was the educational opportunity of a lifetime, and we also had so much fun on the field trip. Our classroom door is always open anytime you want to visit.

Sincerely,

Your nineteen pen pals

Immediately after he finished reading, he noticed he had another email. From your personal account this time.

Did you know there are just thirty-five days until I move to Coronado?

Attached was a photo of you holding up three fingers and five fingers in front of your naked tits, and Bradley almost dropped his phone. He could see everything, just like you probably intended, but he had to close out of the image as Maverick approached him with a frown.

"We need to talk."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

The older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A call came in from Norfolk. Atlantic Fleet needs one more F/A-18 pilot for an assignment. Your name was mentioned."

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley's head was swimming with concern. He'd only been in the Pacific Fleet for a few years, and he wasn't looking to go back to Virginia. Not even temporarily, but certainly not permanently. You were only with him because he was based out of San Diego. You told him yourself how scared you had been when you thought you were falling for a man who lived on the other side of the country.

"My name was mentioned?" he muttered. "Who else was mentioned?"

Maverick shook his head. "Nobody. They want you. I'd start thinking about getting your duffle out of the closet this weekend. I'll get your more information as soon as I can."

Bradley had more questions than answers, but he let the other man walk away without another word. When he unlocked his phone and saw the perfect photo of you, his heart clenched. Having answers to his questions would only make it harder to tell you what was about to happen.

---------------------------

But they love each other! Reverting back to full-time pen pals mode? Will that even work? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[augustinewrites]

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 

“how did you guys end up together?” 

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 

“you didn’t even look!” 

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

[squinch-depraved]

CAN U DO COOL SEXY HOT READER TAKES SCHLATTS VIRGINITY?! but aged down like they’re both in college together

this one had me giggling and kicking my feet when i received it

reader and schlatt are both 20 (my age :3) (ok so i have/will never go to college so i hope this makes sense also lc!schlatt because he will not leave my brain)

CW: breeding kink if u squint, does this count as corruption kink? idk

you had a few classes together, ended up being partners for a project

actually got along surprisingly well

hung out a few times a week for a month or two

and then it was more frequent

almost every day this dude would just show up at your apartment; you have no idea how he came to know your schedule

if it wasn't him you'd be scared

and like, it's not because he doesn't look scary- he does, he's tall as fuck and has this serial killer stare

but you're not afraid of him because every time he's around you he acts like a complete loser

he stares at you when he thinks you aren't looking, a look of obsession in his eyes

the focus he has on your reflection as you put on lip gloss in the mirror is unmatched in any of his classes

you were supposed to be going to a party together, evident by your outfit that he can't decide if he likes or not- it shows a lot of skin, and while that'd be fine if it was just you two, there's bound to be lots of other guys eyeing you up all night

and he just can't stand the thought of that!

so what is he to do but fake receiving a text saying some faculty were crashing the event and it would be best to stay home?

and you were astounded at this boy's nerve, you got this dressed up? you looked this good? and he pretends the function's cancelled?

but you go along with it, pretending to be bummed out, playing his little game with him

"damn. was really hoping to get some dick tonight," you sigh

his brain kinda short circuits

and he mumbles something

hook, line, and

"what? sorry, i couldn't hear you, the music's loud," you tilt your head, turning down the volume

"i said i'm right here."

sinker :)

you snort derisively at him

"what makes you think i want you?"

you two had talked a lot in the months you had known each other, and sex came up a few times

you knew (before even talking to him) that he was a virgin

and he knew (before even talking to you) that you were a slut

but god, he needed you the second he saw you- needed you to be his first. his only.

so he swallows his pride and looks up at you from his spot on your floor with the most pitiful eyes

"i don't think you want me. i think i want you and you need a service for the night."

"a service?? jesus, schlatt, don't kid yourself. you wouldn't be doing shit, i'd be the one doing all the work because you have no clue what you're doing."

"then teach me," he begs. his voice is like you've never heard it before, whiny and breathy

and you roll your eyes before giving in, reaching a hand down to help him up

you guide him to lay down on your bed and he just sits there all tense, unable to relax because he's so nervous

until you tell him to take his pants off

and he's tearing them over his thighs, and they're down on the floor

and the tent in his boxers?

jesus christ

you figured he would be on the bigger side, but he looked massive, and you couldn't even clearly see his length yet

you sit there for a bit, taking in the sight of him splayed out amongst your stuffed animals

only hot bitches have stuffies on their beds, btw

and his face is sooo red, his breathing is uneven, his eyes are running all over your body

"have you like... ever been touched?" you ask him, unsure of how gentle you need to be

but gentle is not what he wants, not at all

"yeah. just... not all the way."

he can't meet your eyes now

so you smirk and climb over to him, hopping on top of him and savoring the whimper he lets out when you sit down on his clothed bulge

"and you want me to be your first time going all the way?"

you use one finger to tilt his chin to look at you

and he just melts

nodding while he stares into your eyes with pure adoration

the eye contact is intense, you find it hard to tear your gaze from his

but eventually you lean in and kiss him, taking his head in your hands

schlatt moans into your mouth when you slide your tongue in, giving in completely and letting you explore his mouth

and when you bite his bottom lip slightly when you pull away?

he moans sooo sluttily

you're grinding down onto his lap at this point, enjoying the constant noises the friction pulls from his lips

he's fucking mortified but he has to grab your hips super tightly and try to get you to stop

because if you keep going like this, he's gonna finish in his boxers and he thinks he would have to leave and never see you again if that happened

so you take pity on him, stopping your movements to press kisses to his neck

which he finds out he also loves

"is it okay if i leave marks?" you whisper in his ear

and his dick throbs so hard

"please," he responds in a quiet voice, staring at the ceiling while he pictures his friends seeing the evidence of him fucking the hottest person on campus

you oblige wayyy too eagerly, biting down hard and sucking deep purple marks all over his exposed neck

only pulling away when he was littered with dark bruises and teeth marks

the whole time he was letting out the cutest noises, gasping and groaning and sputtering how good you felt

silly boy, he has no idea what he's in for

once you're done having fun marking your territory, you scoot back and peel his boxers off

and you try not to react, but your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing up and smacking his abdomen

he takes in your hungry expression and mistakes it for something negative

"what? wha's wrong?"

he sounds so scared

it takes you a few gruelling seconds before you shake your head and respond

"nothing, just. holy shit," you mumble

"what???" schlatt asks, sitting up slightly

"you're fucking huge, dude!! that's all, jesus... i just needed a second to process, sorry."

ego boosted

you will never hear the end of that

but anyways

he stutters, unable to finish whatever he was saying when you take him in your hand and stroke him gently

your eyes are trained on his groin, his on your face while you greedily watch as you play with him

he's so fucking loud

bucking his hips up into your hand

you're barely doing anything, he's that desperate for your touch

when you take his tip in your mouth, he lets out a strained gasp and tries to cover his mouth with his hand

you laugh mockingly and pull it from his face

"i wanna hear you!! this isn't as fun if i don't get to hear those pathetic noises you keep making," you tease

he just groans, eyes fluttering, and tilts his head back, giving in to how good you're making him feel

you smile at him and take as much of him into your mouth as you can, plunging him deep into your throat and making sloppy noises as you suck on him

he sounds like a fucking WHORE, whining and fucking up into your face

you let him have his fun, but pull off when he starts breathing a lot faster

he opens his eyes in surprise and cries out at the loss of contact, chest heaving

"why the fuck would you stop???"

he's so desperate, it's adorable

"can't have you cumming down my throat, then i can't ride you, can i?"

you raise one brow as you ask him, and he reaches his hand to hold yours subconsciously

a glance at his large fingers intertwining with yours stirs something in your stomach and you realize for the first time that you're really enjoying this

"please..." he trails off, unsure of what he's asking for

you watch his face for a moment, inspecting his needy expression, and decide to take pity on him

he watches you so intensely as you take off your jean shorts

and nearly creams himself when you just rip a hole in your fishnets instead of properly taking them off

and the seconds are dragging by so slowly as you position yourself on top of him

until you meet his eyes, asking for permission, and he nods vigorously

and you just sink down onto him, plunging his entire length between your velvet walls

schlatt's eyes glaze over as he stares up at you; he's never felt anything so good

you give him a few minutes to take in how soft you are on the inside before starting to move your hips

he groans with every bounce, so loud that you make a mental note to apologize to your roommate later in case they're home and hearing this

"you can touch me, y'know? you don't gotta just lay there and take it," you pant as you work masterfully on top of him

a more passionate grunt than usual leaves his lips and he immediately snakes his hands up to rest on your ass, squeezing and kneading it like he's holding on for dear life

and, maybe he feels like he is. you're riding him so fucking well that he swears he's dreaming, and his grip on your behind may well be the only thing keeping him grounded

it doesn't take long before he tells you what you had expected, but what he adds at the end throws you for a loop

"i'm gonna cum, but please, please don't stop. just keep going, i can go a few more rounds. please, y/n, i'm begging you," he stutters out

you clench around him and he yells, nails leaving deep angry crescent marks in the flesh of your rear end as he paints your insides white

about a minute later, he catches his breath somewhat and asks, "can i fuck you now?"

he sounds so sweet

like he really wants to make you feel good

so you let him try, positioning yourself on your hands and knees in front of him so that he can hit from behind

takes him a second to get the position right but he slides right in and starts going at you hard

you can't help the moans that slip out, and every noise you make spurs him on to keep going harder, faster, deeper

he's trying so hard to make you cum, you can tell, but he's so inexperienced that he finishes in you again before he can get you anywhere close

so when he lets out a frustrated, "fuck!" you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it around to your front, lining his fingers up with your clit

"feel that? that's what you're looking for," you pant, pushing your ass as flush against him as you could. "play with it, see if you can figure it out on your own, and it's okay if you can't, i'm here to teach you."

he lets out a deep breath and starts thrusting again, rubbing circles into your sensitive nub

you continue to let out noises so he knows what works for you and what doesn't, and you've gotta hand it to him, he's a really fast learner

because it takes like five minutes before him slamming into you combined with the pattern of figure-eights he settled on tracing on your clit makes you cum

you get unbelievably tight around him as you climax, and the sound of you screaming his name makes his eyes roll back into his head while he spills in you one final time

you collapse when he pulls out, instructing him to help you to the bathroom

gotta teach him the importance of aftercare, right?

so he picks you up and carries you to the toilet, setting you down gently on your feet before stepping out and closing the door behind him to give you your privacy

best believe he stays right outside the door, though

he's not going anywhere for a long time. you're his now