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#I put one of these in a college essay
actualbird · 3 months
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just read a bunch of really good substack essays and am now having delusions of mid-twenties grandeur, which is to say im thinking about writing nonfiction again, which is, you know, the creative writing graduate version of wanting to start a podcast
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yoinkschief · 6 months
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ffuuCCKK my hyperfixations are hyperfixating again and it's that time where I get violently "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY INTERESTS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE" again
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This is literally me right now, had to quickly whip out MSPaint to visualize my crippling feelings
I swear the next time one of my interests is brought up I'm making a youtube video essay script about it I need to get it out before I [REDACTED]
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ilovedthestars · 1 year
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I have so many half written posts in my drafts. I keep starting them because I suddenly have Opinions about something and then getting distracted and forgetting they exist. I think all the ones I have right now are
- thoughts on constructive criticism from my perspective as an art student who has been in a lot of formal critiques
- hey everyone ao3 has a faq and here are some useful pages from it
- I have so many thoughts on Frankenstein and Murderbot and here are several more of them (the one I’ve actually written part of: that one scene from FT is literally in frankenstein and i have emotions about it. another one I also want to write: names and eponyms and pronouns and how all of those things relate to personhood)
but honestly I might be forgetting some. if I ever get a break from having to write actual essays for school I’m gonna polish up my tumblr essays and send them out into the world. (All the Frankenstein thoughts could probably be a whole essay if I tried. Maybe I’ll actually combine them into one big meta at some point)
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biggest pet peeve is when i show someone my art and they decide to give their own input like “oh if i were you i would change this” and “i think you should’ve done this or that” like. who asked? i’m showing it to you because i’m proud of it idc if you think it’s trash because i “should’ve put more detail into the this aspect so that blah blah blah” don’t care + didn’t ask
#just something that aggregates me#esp bc this person (older sibling) seems to believe that they have more authority over it bc they’re older#like. dude. i know you *used to* draw but i literally have more experience since you dropped it years ago#plus they have a bit of a complex where they think that ‘more realistic’ = better#like. that’s not how the world works i can draw cartoons as much as i wish and i’ll still have skill#just bc some of my art doesn’t looks as realistic as you’d like doesn’t mean that it’s bad#like some of my more cartoon-ish work will have hours of work composing and formatting the style#esp when i’m feeling meticulous about line work#going off a bit on this person ig. they’re not that bad. the whole ‘realistic = better’ thing is v low key but i can tell#it stems from growing up together and both of us drawing#so there was always a bit of competition to be better and the difference is that i always get what i want and will work for it#like drawing in all of my free time. obsessively really. you do not want to know how many old sketchbooks i have#and they don’t put effort into things like i do. even though they think they’re a bit superior they drew less than half the time i did#though if we’re being honest i think it’s an extension of their inferiority complex which stems from the fact that i’m younger#but was always better at things than them (school mostly. like. started college at 15/16ish and skipped sooo many grades)#and bc of that i was more praised/more highly regarded (when i wasn’t acting batshit and being a menace)#though tbh they’re probably a more stable person than me u don’t have to choose artistic realism to be better#only one of us will be able to survive in the real world and it isn’t me lol#sorry for like. analyzing my sibling’s behavior in the tags. my bad#but tbh i could write essays dissecting their behavior. they’re easy to read to me. everything about them is easy to figure out
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snarp · 1 year
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Have been accused of "mad" and "a historian" on the cheese dress post. Traumatized.
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pallases · 1 year
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guys im actually really nervous abt taking an english class next semester 😭 im so out of practice i feel like stem has rotted my brain*
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bat-bestie · 2 years
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god everything sucks so bad right now
#big BIG vent in the tags heed the warning#cw pet loss#i don't even know where to start actually#im just a mess right now and i haven't even been able to say or type or think too hard about. the most important thing#god this sucks#my cat bunny. the one who's really nervous around everyone but trusts me. my girl#she hasn't been acting quite right lately so my mom took her to the vet and they say she has spinal cancer#and there's nothing we can do#and it's progressing really fast#she was fine just a few days before i left for college this semester#i haven't seen her in a month. month and a half#and now im going home for the weekend as an emergency visit and it's the last time i'll get to be with her.#this week has been fucking horrible it's midterms and i haven't been able to focus or study or think#im almost grateful ive been so busy with assignments because everytime i don't have anything i Have to do i breakdown#i had to ask one of my professors for an extension because im a wreck right now and he seemed like he almost didn't believe me too#he was like 'wellllll if it's an emergencyyy 😒'#sir i put my shirt on backwards and didn't notice literally all day i cannot write a fucking midterm essay like this#and i can't really talk about any of this either bc im always aware that if i kill the vibe too much people won't want to hang out with me#and just to make things a little bit worse i keep seeing people adopting cats or posting that theirs just had kittens everywhere#im just so upset. bunny is the most important thing in the world to me#in my worst moments when ive needed something to get me through it the fact that i can't leave her alone has been at the top of the list#i don't know how im gonna be able to be home without her#i fucking hate this#sorry for doomer posting go do something uplifting#delete later
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misqnon · 24 days
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HI im the anon who sent in that ask about one piece the other day and!!! AGHH. im too shy and socially anxious to send a message so sorry for communicating through asks but !!
THANK UU for responding to me !! it makes me so happy when people seem excited to talk to me, and i love hearing about peoples interests, so. i was very happy reading ur reply!!!! also this is probably an even longer message 😭 i cant help it i love to ramble
my history with one piece is long and complicated LMAO so i wont rant about it, but i started watching anime when i was 7 and one piece caught my attention when i was 10 i think, so ive had a lot of time to experience it tbh. but i was never that into it until i read the manga!! if im recommending one piece, i usually recommend the manga because its so much easier to get through imo.
honestly now that im caught up im like.. so afraid for the end of one piece. i never want it to end. i keep hearing that this is the final saga, and that one piece is ending soon, and my brain just. cannot comprehend it. i dont know if its just denial or what but i fully believe it won't end for another 5 years.. i havent experienced enough of the one piece world!!! i need more!! tell me everything about everyone in one piece PLEASE . it cant end . and those thoughts have been plaguing my mind since i restarted it LOL
looking at old forums to see peoples opinions from when each chapter dropped is genius??? i might have to do that.. i want to see their theories. i want to say "you have no idea whats in store...." or admire how smart they are for guessing things correctly
i find it funny that u like sanji cuz i have such complicated feelings around him. like he was my absolute favorite upon first introduction. i loved his kindness, i loved his interactions with gin, and i thought he was cool as hell. he was definitely a positive role model for my very damaged child brain. but i think the pervert joke and him treating women differently has pretty much ruined him for me. when i was younger a part of me felt like it was only right that he treat women better, but im pretty sure i just felt that way bc i hated the experience of being born female so much that the only way i could cope was by taking every and any advantage i could get. and then i figured out i was non binary.. and hes been turned into the most cartoonishly disgusting pervert .. and i see his potential and it just.. UGH!! you could have been so good. anyways all my feelings around him make it a lot more interesting to see u talk about him!! usually i just headcanon him as transfem and that satiates my burning rage and hatred towards him. but seeing sanji likers talk about liking sanji makes me actually like sanji more!! at this rate i might turn back into a sanji fan
im not in any one piece fan spaces but i AM consuming one piece content as often as possible (so all day. i dont have. a job. or school.). i know this is most likely a passing hyperfixation for me but im loving it anyways. i will definitely keep an eye on ur blog bc im sooo excited for when u catch up. im having so much fun theorizing about the end of the story and . and i hope u will too!! eek rant over thanks for listening (metaphorically)
HI ANON!! once again putting this under cut bc i will once again be freely speaking my way too many thoughts about the silly pirate manga. (fair warning. this. this is 2K words. anon im.....so sorry)
you don't have to worry about communicating through asks btw i literally do not care do whatever makes u comfortable my dude <3 and 1. thank YOU for sending a message :^) 2. i am loving the joyous atmosphere we have created ranting at each other back and forth HAHAHA it makes me happy to talk about interests like this as well!! (looks at length of my last reply and this one) clearly. we can think of this as like. electronic pen pals 👍bc i do be basically writing letters here LMAO
yea as u can tell its a little complicated for me too lmao ( i mean. the damn thing has been going on longer than i've been alive, so. it's touched many people in many ways. and it's complicated in its OWN right which. i'll get to. but holy shit 7 is younger than i expected! thats still a pretty long history (though i cant talk bc at age 4 i had a crush on goku even tho i had no idea what was happening half the time i was watching the dbz reruns on tv </3) and YEA. YEA THE MANGA IS. SO MUCH MORE STREAMLINED AND WELL PACED. EVEN THO I MISS THE COLOR AND MOVEMENT AND VOICE ACTING OF THE ANIME it was just takin too long. and i really like oda's art, so...reading the manga lets me look at it better. and there's more care put into the frames. but overall ur right the manga is chefs kiss in comparison to other versions (WHICH ARENT BAD!! JUST...SLOW. and though i think the live action wasnt really NEEDED i did. like it. and it is what got me back into op + got me caught up through east blue a lot faster HAHA)
tbh hearing that its in its last saga made me feel like i got into one piece at a really good time bc if i plan it right i can catch up and then follow along with the release for only a little while until its done. also the live action s2 and the "The One Piece" reanimated anime will be coming soon too. the content saturation is everywhere 👍(showering in it) THOUGH I DO FEEL A BIT PRESSURED LIKE. WHAT IF ONE PIECE FINISHES BEFORE I CATCH UP . which is insane bc im almost to wano (even though i hear wano is really long). and also...i think its been called the final "saga" but idk if that means final ARC you know...kinda like how water 7 and enies lobby kinda blend into one. or impel down and marineford are lumped together. idk i feel like we got a bit more. i just feel like there's so much we havent got answered yet and i dont think oda would just leave that stuff hanging. i know there;s a list out there of things that one piece needs to adress/come back to before it finishes but i havent looked at it bc im afraid of spoilers. however, just in my own mind theres a LOT i know has to happen that we need plenty of time for!! so. i wouldnt be surprised if it WAS 5 more years. i mean like...shanks needs to happen. i think zoro and sanji are gonna have a battle at some point (based on stuff ive seen from wano. im assuming) they gotta see laboon again. gotta revisit shirahoshi's situation. gotta see the dreams come true of each crewmate. tie off loose ends of side characters like tashigi and koby and the warlords. yanno
the "you have no idea what's in store.." is literally my exact emotions . i havent done it for this fandom YET but i plan to go to forums reading over ppl's theories like this
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slash seeing how they react and getting giddy about it bc i like seeing how people react to shit. esp if they're shocked or enthusiastic about it like i usually am
about sanji. okay. listen. listen here. i. hate sanji. JNFNVFKDNL
no but actually no matter how complicated someone's feelings are towards sanji i promise you for sanji likers they are probably 100x more complicated unless they're weird dudebros who think he's cool (which he is but only like 10% of the time and not when he's being a chauvinistic ass)
one thing about me is that i. hate doing things that are distasteful or offensive in any capacity and that extends to the media i consume in that i dont like consuming media that is excessively problematic. i understand nuance so like OBVIOUSLY nothing is perfect and everything has problematic elements - but for a lot of shows there's one too many things on one side of the scale and i just dont like having that guilt on my shoulders consuming it. one piece fits that category but it's also SO BIG and SO LONG and its been going on for a WHILE and is such a phenomenon that i can let SOME stuff "slide"...and also realize "bitch one piece is so popular and near its end at this point that you, a single tumblr user, liking it or not liking it is not going to make a difference" and i'm (still) trying to make peace with that. things like oda's passive racism, The Entirety of Kamabakka Kingdom (literally don't even get me started), his blatant sexism in universe and his own opinions in the SBS...i've just come to realize i need to consume my media critically but still let myself have fun. im going through a rough period in life and this happens to be what my brain hyperfixated on and i cant change that so might as well have this outlet. ive made a lot of friends and am really enjoying the story for its good parts (found family, anti government and anti authoritarianism, importance of dreams and ambition and self love, the importance of mental health and trauma and how your past doesnt define you...etc)
i extend a lot of this thinking to sanji, too. to be fair i dont remember why he became my favorite. i think he was my fav when i watched it all those years ago but he wasnt a BIG FAV or anything. watching film red and the opla i think i went into it remembering he was my fav and he just stayed that way, but then i watched more and really started to like him for reasons like 1. im weak to flirtatious characters in general 2. im also weak to blonde men 😔 3. he's an asshole with a kind heart and i love a good juxtaposition 4. he just has some really cool badass moments tbh 5. and he's a LOT. i love characters that are a lot. he's loud and messy and overreactive and prissy and insecure and self sacrificing and also just SECRETLY ONE OF THE KINDEST MOST COMPASSIONATE MEMBERS OF THE CREW? notice how none of these have to do with his pervert shtick lmao
i do actually like his woman thing to an extent, i think its cute when its just him having heart eyes at every woman he sees and being weak to literally any woman who looks at him- cause that's still putting women on a pedestal, but its a fairly harmless character flaw for a fictional character to have. pre-timeskip sanji is a gift for all these reasons. and like, thats when everyone fell in love w his character i think. i MIGHT even forgive his whole "i wont hit a woman" thing bc its not like he doesnt think women shouldnt be hit in general to such an extent (i dont think he ever opposes to anyone else doing it on the crew, HE just doesnt like doing it PERSONALLY bc its his own moral principle he wont break just like the whole wont fight with his hands thing) even if the whole thing stems from the sexist belief women are lesser/weaker (esp after his backstory reveals some stuff)
but the pervert shtick? and the WRITING HIM AS TRANSPHOBIC/HOMOPHOBIC THING?? yea i literally hate that part of his character so much and wish it wasnt added. like i see how it relates to the character oda has decided sanji is but i still dont think it was needed. or okay. lol. i dont think any sanji fan actually likes this part of him. somedays i look at myself in the mirror and i'm like "am i fangirling over a more conventionally attractive bnha mineta rn" and i put on my clown makeup
but he's more than that. for all the reasons i listed above. and the BIGGEST thing that keeps me sane as a Sanji Liker (tm) is the fact that i 100% see half of his shitty character traits as something that are a product of Oda, the author, influencing his own work. im not gonna lie that canonly he still gave sanji those traits so yea like as a trans (? still working on that) GNC bisexual woman my favorite character atm is this weird little guy who's kinda chauvinistic and also canonly a homophobe (...at least, to an extent, bc apparently he has a really good relationship with iva? again, i could write an essay on just the queer rep as well) and thats a little embarrassing but. alas. i already fell in love with the character. and if you consider the writing is done by a dude who's got his own issues and just take the character for what he is...i do still rlly enjoy the idiot. and TRUST ME, i will headcanon him as a repressed bisexual who's probably GNC or a little trans or AT LEAST likes to do drag bc c'mon now. oda PUT ALL THAT IN CANON...AND EXPECTS US NOT TO PLAY WITH IT? you could make a compelling argument that he's 1000% straight and cis and kamabakka was a fluke that he resents but i think you could just as easily interpret it the other way. or just say fuck word of god i'm gonna enjoy this character the way i want (draws sanji in a dress for the millionth time bc i can and it makes me feel better. and once again HE WORE ONE IN CANON...AND WAS SMILING ABOUT IT, FOR A WHILE. IDK IDK CALL ME CRAZY) tldr; sanji is fucked but the worst parts are a product of oda himself and i like the character for other reasons and purposely try to consume him very critically for those reasons bc i do still really like him. like. hes my #1 fav character atm unfortunately. but he's nice in a lot of other ways 🥲
SORRY FOR THAT I TALKED WAYYY TOO MUCH!!!! but i enjoyed it so thanks for the opportunity :') im glad ur vibing with op and we're both enjoying this silly little show. tbh half the reason im trying to read it so fast (and why i read WCI early) is bc i was scared my hyperfixation wouldnt last long enough to finish the series BWAHAHA. here's to hoping we both get to see it end and enjoy the journey that comes with that!
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vidawhump · 2 months
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hahaha alright how do you sweet talk teachers i need to know
YES THANK YOU
The most influential factor of sweet-talking teachers comes from your overall reputation in a school and with specific teachers. If you have a reputation for not turning in work on time and not caring about it, and for not putting in effort for anything, it’s gonna be really hard to sweet-talk your teachers outside of specific super dramatic situations. If you have a generally positive reputation, getting what you need with them is going to be a lot easier.
Personally, I have a long-standing reputation for overachieving and getting relatively consistent straight As. This reputation is secured between several teachers through several panicked discussions of anything less than an A. And before every test or exam, I consistently end up asking if there are extra credit questions. Not out of an effort to not fail, but for the chance to get higher than 100% (or to barely scrape my sorry ass out of an A-.) In other words, I have a reputation for sucking up to the teachers (because I can’t socialize with my classmates for the life of me) and for being, and I quote, “a creative kid who gets her stuff done. Gifted, but has some attention span issues.” Can you smell the gifted kid burnout + unmedicated ADHD + undiagnosed autism wafting off of me? /lh
Lying on the spot, and lying in general, is a surefire way to wreck whatever plan you’re cracking. Try to keep the sweet talking restrained to the teachers you have a tight and positive relationship with. They’re the most likely to give you extensions, extra help, etc. Back to lying on the spot specifically, solidify any plans for the time before you have to talk to that teacher specifically. Make sure whatever plans you make fit your circumstances and that they’re believable for the most part. Run through any possible scenarios and outcomes and how you’ll respond to them. If you have to lie at all, keep them to small white lies. If you planning on telling one teacher that you forgot, for example, your laptop at home, so you can’t show them the work you did online, you need to make sure to either actually leave your laptop at home, or keep it hidden in your locker/book bag and make sure nobody sees it. This means other students and teachers. Enough students are snitches to cause problems, and the teachers talk all the time. (AN: Don’t snitch on other students to get in goodwill with teachers. A positive reputation also includes other students. Sweet talking and sucking up to teachers doesn’t involve being a teacher’s pet and a snitch.)
For one specific example, my class was assigned a biology essay and had a week, including class time and a four-day weekend, to do it. This sounds like a lot of time to get the essay done, and I probably would have been able to if I had the executive function to get started on research. But obviously, I didn’t, and here we are, on the due date, and I’ve barely looked at the requirements for the essay. Specific circumstances were the main factor in this situation. The schedules had been weird for the past month or so, and it was starting to take its toll. But track had also started the Monday before it was due, and my everything is still sore. And the iPad keyboards are evil and hate everyone. I made sure to have a conversation with my Biology teacher about this the day before it was due, to plant the idea in their head that I was having technical issues with my iPad. He also agrees that schoolwide iPads were a stupid move. During my Biology period, when they asked if everyone had turned their essay in, I told them that a bunch of unfortunate situations had stacked up onto this one week. They told me that I was good and to just get it in as soon as I could. But that still means I have to write the essay :/
Most of it boils down to your reputation, your relationship with the teachers, and your circumstances. Try not to do this too often, the teachers pick it up really fast. :) 👍
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Why are college applications so fucking stressful? Why am I on the verge of tears trying to write my essay? I just wanna read my fanfics but mumther is on my ass to get the essay done. What if i just don’t go. Sounds like a plan to me.
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headspace-hotel · 10 months
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What i've been learning thru my research is that Lawn Culture and laws against "weeds" in America are deeply connected to anxieties about "undesirable" people.
I read this essay called "Controlling the Weed Nuisance in Turn-of-the-century American Cities" by Zachary J. S. Falck and it discusses how the late 1800's and early 1900's created ideal habitats for weeds with urban expansion, railroads, the colonization of more territory, and the like.
Around this time, laws requiring the destruction of "weeds" were passed in many American cities. These weedy plants were viewed as "filth" and literally disease-causing—in the 1880's in St. Louis, a newspaper reported that weeds infected school children with typhoid, diphtheria, and scarlet fever.
Weeds were also seen as "conducive to immorality" by promoting the presence of "tramps and idlers." People thought wild growing plants would "shelter" threatening criminals. Weeds were heavily associated with poverty and immortality. Panic about them spiked strongly after malaria and typhoid outbreaks.
To make things even wilder, one of the main weeds the legal turmoil and public anxiety centered upon was actually the sunflower. Milkweed was also a major "undesirable" weed and a major target of laws mandating the destruction of weeds.
The major explosion in weed-control law being put forth and enforced happened around 1905-1910. And I formed a hypothesis—I had this abrupt remembrance of something I studied in a history class in college. I thought to myself, I bet this coincides with a major wave of immigration to the USA.
Bingo. 1907 was the peak of European immigration. We must keep in mind that these people were not "white" in the exact way that is recognized today. From what I remember from my history classes, Eastern European people were very much feared as criminals and potential communists. Wikipedia elaborates that the Immigration Act of 1924 was meant to restrict Jewish, Slavic, and Italian people from entering the country, and that the major wave of immigration among them began in the 1890s. Almost perfectly coinciding with the "weed nuisance" panic. (The Immigration Act of 1917 also banned intellectually disabled people, gay people, anarchists, and people from Asia, except for Chinese people...who were only excluded because they were already banned since 1880.)
From this evidence, I would guess that our aesthetics and views about "weeds" emerged from the convergence of two things:
First, we were obliterating native ecosystems by colonizing them and violently displacing their caretakers, then running roughshod over them with poorly informed agricultural and horticultural techniques, as well as constructing lots of cities and railroads, creating the ideal circumstances for weeds.
Second, lots of immigrants were entering the country, and xenophobia and racism lent itself to fears of "criminals" "tramps" and other "undesirable" people, leading to a desire to forcefully impose order and push out the "Other." I am not inventing a connection—undesirable people and undesirable weeds were frequently compared in these times.
And this was at the very beginnings of the eugenics movement, wherein supposedly "inferior" and poor or racialized people were described in a manner much the same as "weeds," particularly supposedly "breeding" much faster than other people.
There is another connection that the essay doesn't bring up, but that is very clear to me. Weeds are in fact plants of the poor and of immigrants, because they are often medicinal and food plants for people on the margins, hanging out around human habitation like semi-domesticated cats around granaries in the ancient Near East.
My Appalachian ancestors ate pokeweed, Phytolacca americana. The plant is toxic, but poor people in the South would gather the plant's young leaves and boil them three times to get the poison out, then eat them as "poke salad." Pokeweed is a weed that grows readily on roadsides and in vacant lots.
In some parts of the world, it is grown as an ornamental plant for its huge, tropical-looking leaves and magenta stems. But my mom hates the stuff. "Cut that down," she says, "it makes us look like rednecks."
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vamptastic · 1 year
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college applications are so lame. Let me into your school i'm soooooo good at school
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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desperate measures
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words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, BABY TRAPPING!, pregnancy, female receiving oral
rafe thought it was just his paranoia, the gnawing thought in his mind that you were going to leave him. he never considered that it could be true, that you were putting plans into place.
until a rumor spread that you were fed up with his behavior. his over protectiveness, his anger issues. you love him, but think he needs to heal without you first. that's the claim thats whispered to him at the party, one you aren't attending, staying home to study for your online college class.
rafe rushes home, rage flooding through his veins, knowing he needs to do everything and anything to get you to stay. 
--
“hey gorgeous, almost done studying?” rafe combs his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your head.
“yeah.” you hum, tilting your head up to allow rafe to press a kiss to your lips. “just give me 15 more minutes and ill come to bed, mkay?”
“okay.” rafe nods, squeezing your shoulder in support as you go back to typing out your essay. 15 minutes gives him plenty of time to do what he needs to. 
rafe grabs the condoms out of his bedside table drawer, throwing them all onto the bed. he's not sure how many tries it'll take, but he's determined.
he moves to your pinboard next, grabbing a tack that holds up a picture of you and rafe when you first started your relationship, before you saw the dark side of him. rafe frowns at the picture instead of mimicking the smile in it like he normally does, now noticing the difference in you, your smile is not as wide, eyes duller, cheeks not as full. 
“fuck.” rafe shakes his head, angry at himself for letting you down without even realizing it. things are going to change, he has to fix it. he can’t let you leave. rafe moves back to the bed, pin in hand as he takes a condom package and presses a hole through it, making sure to skewer it completely through. he continues until every condom is poked, glad for once that you reacted badly to birth control and had to seek other methods to prevent getting pregnant.
rafe cleans up quickly, tossing everything back into the drawer and then pinning the picture back up, looking over the other snapshots that you put up. there's some of your friends, but most are of you and rafe. rafe knows you love him, he just needs to make sure you never stop.
“whatcha looking at?” you ask as you enter the room, voice light and airy despite the bags under your eyes. rafe credited it to you taking college classes, but was now worried that he contributed to your current state.
“just how beautiful you are.” rafe doesn't miss the look on your face, the surprise.
“oh.” you blush, raising your hands to press your fingertips into your cheeks.
“and im really sorry if i haven't been telling you that enough lately.” rafe crosses over to you, hands coming to cup your cheeks, your hands trapped under his.
“what are you doing rafe?” you question.
“i haven’t been treating you well enough lately and im so sorry for that baby. i love you.” rafe presses his lips against yours. you react to the kiss, pushing past the surprise to kiss back, sliding your hands out from under his to grip his shirt, tugging his body into yours.
“are you tired princess?” rafe asks, lips still skimming over yours as he questions it.
“n-no.” you shake your head, bottom lip pouting out, making rafe lean in to kiss it. “why?”
“because i want you.” rafe smirks. he's used to your excuses. tired, headache, need to shave, need to eat, anything to get out of it.
“oh!” your eyebrows widen. “yeah.” you press yourself closer to rafe. it's been a long time since you felt the rush of lust for him, since he's treated you so sweetly, talked so candidly. no sign of anger or resentment hiding in his eyes. “yeah, i want you too.”
“good.” rafe moves you to the bed. his hands work effortlessly as his mouth distracts you, pulling at your clothes until you're naked, all of his clothes still on.
“rafe, let me see you.” you pout, tugging at his shirt.
“no, let me focus on you, princess.” rafe moves lower to wrap his mouth around your nipple, giving you full attention while his other hand cups the other side of your chest.
“rafe.” you whine, completely forgetting about your relationship issues, about how you were just thinking of the right time to leave him as he plays with your chest, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to give you more.
“spread your legs, baby.” rafe pushes at your thighs until you help him, spreading your knees apart to present yourself to him.
rafe lays between your thighs, but not before pulling his shirt off, granting you your wish of having him at least get closer to the state of undress you're in.
“such a pretty pussy baby. gonna give it so much lovin’, it's what you deserve.” rafe rubs your inner thighs, eyes locked on your wetness. 
“what has gotten into you rafe?” you let out a breathy laugh, starting to get slightly suspicious of how sweet he's acting.
“just wanna appreciate my lovely girl.” rafe moves closer, inhaling your scent before his tongue licks through your wetness.
you fist your hands in the sheets as he focuses in on your clit, knowing nothing gets you off faster than him sucking at your most sensitive part.
“rafe, oh my god!” you squeal. it's been a long time since he's given you head, and rafe is wondering himself why it's been so long since he tasted you on his tongue, moaning to himself as he swipes through what he swears is better than pure honey.
“so delicious.” he moans, the words vibrating over your pussy as he barely pulls away to speak, mouth greedily sucking at your clit, tongue rolling incessantly over it.
“it-it feels so good.” you moan, moving one hand to rafes head, his hair too short to grip onto, but you need the physical connection to him.
rafes eyes slide closed, concentrating on making you cum as soon as possible so he can get inside of you, his cock so hard he has to grind into the bed just to relieve himself slightly, knowing what he is about to.
rafe brings a finger to your entrance, carefully pushing in, knowing since it's been a while that he's going to have to open you up to take him. he immediately picks up speed to match to intensity of his mouth, only stopping sucking to press a few kisses to your clit.
“im-im gonna cum rafe, oh my god!” you let out a squeal, back arching off the bed as he works you until your high breaks through, legs clenching around his head, thighs pressing in but rafe doesn't let it deter him as he works you through it, only stopping when your whine from the oversensitivity and push at his head.
“gotta get inside you.” rafe pulls away, making sure to remove his finger carefully. he reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing a condom, knowing you won't notice the small hole pressed through the foil as you breathe deeply, recovering from your orgasm.
rafe tears the packaging open, standing up to briefly pull his pants and underwear off, sliding the condom over his hard cock, smirking when he can tell precisely where the small hole is. no way you wouldn't get pregnant, and then there is no way you'd be able to leave him.
“how you want me baby?” rafe asks. he knows his preference. to turn you over and have you on your hands and knees, ass presented to him.
“like this.” you open your arms up, wanting rafe close to you.
he nods, draping himself over your body, lips covering yours as his cock presses against your entrance, sinking in with a low moan.
your arms wrap around rafes shoulders, keeping him close to you, your chests pressed together as he lets you adjust for a moment, his cock pressing against your walls.
“god, ive missed this.” you mew out.
“gonna work on treating you so much better.” rafe says, a look of seriousness overtaking his features. “you're mine, baby.” he finished his words with a thrust. “all mine.”
--
“rafe!” you finally manage to shout out. you hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs, entering the bedroom and then finally the bathroom where you're hunched over the toilet.
“baby?” he questions, kneeling next to you, hands moving carefully.
“it's my stomach.” you groan, pressing a hand to your abdomen. “i must have come down with something.”
“yeah.” rafe nods. “im gonna get you a water.” rafe has to leave the room, he can't let you see him celebrate your morning sickness when you don't even know the true cause yet.
--
“when you get a minute…” your hands are wrestling with each other behind your back, trying to control your nerves. “i need to talk to you.”
rafe smiles. surely you must have had a suspicion yourself and taken a pregnancy test. surely that's what you must be holding behind your back.
“i have a minute right now.” rafe stands up from his desk, crossing the room. when he goes to place his hands on your shoulders, you take a deep inhale, not even meaning to retreat yet you step back into the doorway.
“baby?” rafe questions.
“im pregnant.” you blurt out.
rafe tries to control his excitement, tries to mimic shock before he pulls you into a hug, feeling how tense you are. “baby, that’s so exciting! oh my god, we are gonna be parents.” he takes your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips, even though you don’t really reciprocate. “you’re gonna be the best mom ever.”
“i… i have something else to tell you too.” you feel tears fill your eyes, not stopping them from flowing down your cheeks. “i was gonna break up with you.” you let out a sob, burying your face in rafes chest as you continue. “i was gonna break up with you until i took a test and it came back positive. i’m so sorry rafe, i never wanted to leave i just thought-”
“hey, shh.” rafe strokes your back gently. “the past is the past. this baby will bring us together, okay? we are gonna be parents, happy, in love parents. thats what matters.”
you nod, snuggling into rafe as he kisses the top of your head, glad that you can’t see the smirk on his face, his plan executed perfectly.
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sweets3rial · 2 months
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the tutor in dorm 24B
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inspired by this request
meantutor!re2!leon x fem!reader
summary: you have no choice but to go to your math professor for help in the class. unfortunately, he can't help you. but he knows a certain blonde that can, top of his class, perfect scores on everything, just the tutor for you.
tags: college!au, math/stats terminology, ooc leon, leon is an asshole, leon & reader have attitudes, dom!leon, slightly jealous leon, degrading kink, praise kink, leon talks you through it, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (use safety guys!), oral sex, cunnilingus, clit stimulation, teasing, etc.
word count: 9.8k 🧍‍♀️ (this shit long sorry)
math is horrible. you’ve never been bright in math, plus it isn’t fun. it’s only fun when you understand what you’re doing. especially statistics, which is a whole other level for math. there are symbols, very important definitions and strategies, formulas and techniques, very precise calculations and data.
you never understood what the teacher was writing up on the board when you’d step into lecture. he moved fast and spoke even faster, you’re hands would cramp trying to keep up with him and you’re notes were a jumbled mess.
even if you tried so hard, you just couldn’t understand. your mind was constantly running, like a hamster on a wheel though it was nonstop. it was the same schedule pretty much every day. you wake up, rush out of your dorm, race to class, get to class huffing and puffing, and you do this three more times for your other classes.
then after a long day of learning, you’re off to work at the cafe down the street. it’s a very famous cafe, especially with it being so close to campus. convenient for students who needed work and wanted a nice coffee.
after work, you’d go back to your dorm on the brink of passing out, but of course, you had to study.
it was a constant look, a constant cycle that seemingly never broke until summer break. your days were starting to blend together and you were slowly driving yourself insane. at one point, you put stats at the back of your mind since you were so focused on an essay for your english class.
little did you know that you’d pay for that in the future. you missed one class, one lecture - and it seemed like you missed a whole semester.
you went to class the next day, after turning in that very important essay, and you were completely lost. you tried talking to your classmate about what the professor was talking about but she was just as lost as you.
if you thought stats was hard before, it’s even harder now. you looked over your notes from before, trying to correlate those to the ones now. though, nothing made sense.
that led you to where you are now. a week later, still very much lost, and you’re grade dropping with every single assignment.
you toyed with the drawstring of your sweats, blinking your dry eyes and nibbling at the dry skin of your lip. you were trying so hard to stay awake as your professor scrolled through your grades. his eyes were squinted and his knuckles pressed to his lips.
he had a pensive look on his face, looking from your scores and back to you.
you could practically read his mind. it was embarrassing and shameful. he took off his glasses with a sigh and turned his chair to face you.
“you were doing really good in the beginning but after chapter three i mean,” he paused gesturing his head over to the computer where the D’s and F’s lined up like a pattern.
“what happened? chapter three was so long ago why didn’t you reach out?”
you never understood why some professors didn’t take students' lives into consideration. some professors think that students have no life while others are very considerate. this professor wasn’t one of those professors.
he didn’t understand why his students couldn’t understand his material or why people asked stupid questions. even though, at the beginning of the semester he mentioned:
‘even stupid questions are good questions’
then when that stupid question is asked. he sits there with a disappointed look on his face and quite literally embarrasses that student in front of everyone. which is why, you don’t ask questions at all. you don’t want to be embarrassed, especially not in front of 30 other people.
“i’m sorry, my life has just been really hectic lately and-“ you rambled, running your hands over your face with a heavy sigh. until, of course, you were interrupted.
“no worries, i understand but,” he paused again, judging you with his eyes and completely ignoring the fact that you were on the brink of a mental breakdown. “you gotta reach out for help if you need it.”
even if you tried, it probably wouldn’t help. his teaching methods are like tough love. harsh but it’s supposed to teach you a lesson. spoiler alert, it never does.
he reached over for a pen and a sticky note and you watched him scribble down a few numbers and a name.
“i can’t really help you since my life is also hectic,”
alright, asshole. you’re the fucking professor you should be helping me. you said to yourself, never in your life did you want to slap someone so bad,
“but i can refer you to one of my top students.” he pushed the sticky note toward you. you picked it up and read the name at the top, his dorm number, and his phone number.
great, just what you needed a tutor.
you weren’t sure how exactly this ’top student’ was passing this class with flying colors and it was to the point your professor was impressed. which he never is and never was.
either this top student is sucking your professor's dick behind the scenes or is actually insane.
you read the name at the top as your professor began to speak.
“his name is Leon, he’s gotten perfect scores on every quiz and test, very smart and a decent kid,”
yup, Leon is definitely sucking this man's dick.
Leon’s contact info and his dorm room were written underneath his name. it was odd that he didn’t tutor in the library like the rest of the tutors did. though, given the fact he’d rather tutor in his dorm, he probably isn’t a tutor at all.
“i contacted him before our meeting today, he’s expecting you.
“oh, okay.” you nodded slowly, pocketing the small slip of paper. you weren’t so sure if you were comfortable being alone in a random dorm with some guy you’ve never met, but for the sake of your grade you were willing to do so.
you finalized your meeting with your professor and left his office even more unsatisfied than when you came. you were hoping he’d give you a run down on what you missed but instead, he completely dismissed you to his top student.
you left the building phone and slip of paper in hand, you weren’t sure if you should text him or not. ultimately, you decided it could wait. you were exhausted and maybe a small nap would be helpful rather than going to this guy's dorm where you probably wouldn’t learn jack shit.
Leon waited for you. he was told to expect you around the afternoon, so he canceled his plans with his friends, he went home to his dorm, tidied up, and put on a more suitable outfit. he never wanted to be a tutor it was tiring trying to teach someone something over and over again.
plus, he had doubt in his skills as well. he would be to blame if someone were to get a bad score or if they failed their exam.
but when his stats professor made a deal with Leon, he decided to take it. if he were to tutor you and possibly future students, he’d put in a good word with any police academy he wanted to join.
Leon wasn’t so sure how his professor would get that to happen but it was better than nothing at all.
so he waited, half an hour went by and then an hour and another. at this point, he was tired both physically and mentally. he sat leaned onto his desk with an elbow, tapping his pen against his notebook. it didn’t take long for him to catch the hint that you weren’t coming.
and just as he was about to strip his clothes to take a nap, there was a knock at his dorm door. his hands dropped at his sides and a sigh left his mouth, though he tried to maintain a calm act even though he was close to bursting into flames.
he was irritated, you were two hours late, he was already drained from a long day of sprinting around campus for his classes and he just got dumped not too long ago. he does not have time to be in a good mood.
albeit, he still opened the door with a smile.
“hi, you must be-“
“yes, i’m so so sorry! i know i was supposed to be here hours ago,”
Leon let out a small laugh, mumbling under his breath, “yeah, you were…”
unfortunately, you heard that part, and your heart dropped. at first glance, this guy looks like a sweetheart. he had a nice face, his cheeks a little round but his jaw very defined and sharp. his eyebrows were relaxed and a thick brown, and his dirty blonde hair was split down the side and a little long — the ends just touching the height of his cheekbones.
his lips were plump and a nice pink, glasses were perched up on his head and you guessed he was probably wearing them earlier.
his chin had a small indent, a little butt chin almost. he had two beauty marks on his throat, right on his adams apple, and a few small ones on his face.
he wore a basic dark blue sweater, even with the baggy fabric you could still tell his shoulders were nice and broad and he paired his sweater with basic grey sweats.
he was very attractive, tall, and muscular but that baby face was throwing you off. it wasn’t a bad thing, rather it was intriguing. how are you supposed to focus when there’s a very attractive man tutoring you? maybe your professor is secretly setting you up.
“oh god, i’m so sorry. i probably should’ve gotten your number from our professor,”
“uh no worries, just come in.” he said in a hurry, opening the door further for you. you nodded to him a thank you and stepped inside.
his dorm smelt of fresh mint and lemon, there was a hint of spice in the air as well. it was pretty warm, which made you guess the heater was on.
he shut the door behind you, walking past you as you stayed in the doorway to slip off your shoes. you took around the room for a second. his bed was up against the left side of the room, away from the sight of the door. dark midnight blue sheet, with a matching duvet and pillowcases.
underneath his bed were a bunch of bins, probably clothes and extra storage. against the back wall was his desk, piles of papers and different books were all stacked neatly at the side. the large window above the desk allowed a natural hue of light to cast down into the room, giving the room a pale yellow glow.
against the other wall was a dresser and closet. his room was very generic, with some posters and photos taped to the walls and a whiteboard with messy scribbles depicting his schedule for the week.
“so uh, how much did the professor tell you?” he asked, sitting at his desk chair and swerving around towards you and he lowered his glasses down to his eyes. you took a few steps further into his dorm, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder.
“um he just said to meet you here and that you could help,”
“well no shit,” he scoffed, catching you off guard and sending a tense feeling through your muscles. “did he say what you needed help with? which chapter? which concept?” he asked and each time you shook your head like a dumbass.
“i’ve kind of been struggling the whole semester i just-“
“why didn’t you get help earlier?” Leon asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. unlike your professor, who seemed actually concerned this time. but that concern was probably for himself instead of you.
“i was embarrassed, i guess,” you shrugged.
he sighed, dropping his head and nodding his it up an down.
“okay well, uh please sit anywhere really uhh,” he got up from his desk chair and walked over towards the other corner of his dorm. there was another small chair in the corner, albeit a bit old, and he brought it over to his desk.
“sorry, i’m not used to visitors.”
“no worries,”
you sat down on his old chair and placed your tote bag into your lap as he opened up his computer. you watched as he brought his glasses up in front of his eyes and opened up the course page. “so uh, what did you need help with?”
his tone was harsh, almost like your professors. you felt intimidated by him, he was smart and quite rude.
“um well, everything?” your answer sounded more like a question, causing him to raise an eyebrow up at you.
“i’m sorry, i can’t help you with everything,” he spat, turning his shoulders towards you with one elbow on his desk. “give me specifics, like which chapter?”
“every chapter, it just isn’t making sense to me and i-“
a sigh left his lips and his shoulders slumped, you could practically hear the thoughts running through his head. “alright well, i can help you with the first chapter,” he said with a shrug.
you nodded along, reaching into your bag for your notes.
“the first chapter is pretty basic. basic terminology and techniques we use throughout the class, ‘kay?” he began, speaking with his hands as he went. you nodded at him, placing your notebook at the edge of his desk and writing down what he just said.
anything counts, anything you could get would help. you needed to get a good grade in this class, if you had to retake it for the credit it would be a disaster.
“it’s mostly the types of data, the collections of data, the types of sampling — and those are the basics.” his eyes flickered from his computer down towards your hunched figure. you were writing down every single word he spoke. you’d repeat his words to yourself in silent whispers.
then, as you finished writing, you looked up at him and waited for him to continue but he was left speechless. you really were desperate.
“tell me, do you know any of the terminology in chapter 1?” he asked, turning his full figure towards you. doing so, his knees were now touching yours. he didn’t miss the way you scooched back further in your chair to avoid his touch. cute.
“uh,” you hummed to yourself as you flicked through your notes and back to chapter one.
“no, no,” he stopped you, placing his hand over yours and bringing it back down into your lap. “tell me from memory, not from your notes.”
he watched you blink at him as if you were processing his words slowly, “uh yeah, i can do that.” you leaned away from his desk and your notes and faced him, your knees touching his again.
“i know sample versus population,”
“give me an example of both.” he cut you off again, leaning back into his chair and adjusting his hips.
“um, a population will be all the college students of our university but a sample would be just the engineer students,”
“good, at least you know that.”
you gave him a nervous laugh, a little more proud than you should be but his praise made you feel … good.
he continued to make you list what you know, making sure you knew every term by giving him real-life scenarios and every time you got it correct it was like a golden sticker was placed on your forehead. you were beginning to understand and, as ridiculous as it sounds, you were starting to have fun.
relating the different terms to real-life situations made it easy on you, rather than the unrealistic scenarios your professor gave you.
he let out a loud yawn and you caught a whiff of his minty breath, he’d been chewing on mint gum for the past hour now. throwing an old one away and popping in a new stick. you could tell he was getting tired, he was less responsive and blinking slowly.
“i think you should get some rest,” you told him. he looked over at you with a small ‘hm?’ before shaking his head, blonde hair sweeping over the bone of his brow and lips curling down into a frown.
“i’m fine,” he practically shouted out after another yawn, “let’s just finish it, ‘kay?”
“no, Leon, it’s okay we can continue another time.”
he stayed silent, his lips pursed as he looked down at your notes. gradually, his head began to bob up and down into a nod and another yawn left his mouth. this time, he stretched back, letting his sweater glide up slightly to reveal a sharp v-line and brown happy trail.
you quickly looked away and began to pack up your things, shoving your notebook and pencil case into your bag — not even bothering to shut or zip anything up.
“man, look at the time,” he said, lifting up his sleeve to reveal a black watch. “next time be on time, that way we have more time.” he smiled at you as you stood up.
you weren’t sure whether to take that as a friendly reminder or a warning but either way you nodded.
you made your way towards the door, slipping on your shoes and looking back at him to say goodbye. you expected him to still be seated at his desk or even going to lay on his bed. though, to your surprise, he was standing directly behind you.
hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater.
“jesus!,” you jumped, “sorry, you surprised me.”
“uh, who else do you expect to lock the door behind you?”
you blinked up at him, again caught off guard. he was a little bipolar with his attitude, one minute he’s proud of you for getting something the next he’s making fun of you with his eyes.
“well, goodnight,” you said to him as you stepped out the door, he didn’t say anything else. he kicked the door closed and locked it the moment you stepped out.
you could feel your eye twitch, only if you could march back in there and beat the blue out of his eyes but he was just a tutor. just a few weeks of this and then you’ll never have to speak to him again.
-
“are you serious? we just went over this,”
“i’m sorry i blanked out,”
“no, you didn’t i was watching you giggle on the phone with that little boyfriend of yours,”
“first of all, why are you watching me? and second of all, i wasn’t on the phone with any boyfriend.”
he sighed, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “i wasn’t stalking you, dumbass. your bright ass screen caught my attention and when i looked over voila it’s you.”
he leaned forward, pointing a finger at your face and squinting his eyes behind his glasses, “and who else would have you giggling like that in the middle of a lesson huh?”
to be honest, he didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention, it was more work on him because you always came crying to him about not understanding a topic. he didn’t necessarily hate tutoring you. sure, you guys had some fun times but it was beginning to become a part of his everyday life.
canceling plans on his friends, not going to the gym, and missing out on his personal time. his goal was to teach you and go over a chapter every week, it was working … slowly but surely.
“i saw a funny video, ‘kay?”
“wow, so you’re just sitting in class watching silly videos. no wonder why your brain is rotten.”
“hey, asshole, the professor wasn’t even talking about anything important. it was more about his dumbass grandkids,” you rebutted, grumbling your words toward the end of your sentence.
“if it wasn’t anything important, how come you don’t know what he just fucking talked about?” he said with a scoff.
you groaned and began to pack your things, you probably should’ve done this a long time ago. sure, Leon helps, but he belittles you in every way and it’s beginning to actually hurt. his rude comments and attitude.
he was like a hawk or a vulture, hovering over you every second of the day and then picking at you when you were alone. slowly tearing at your skin and ripping off flesh until he got to bone. he was always watching you.
you couldn’t go on your phone in class to check a text or even walk out early because he will know and will say something about it later. maybe it was time for another tutor.
“whatever, Leon. you’re not helping anymore.” you scoffed his way as you stuffed your computer into your bag.
“that’s where your wrong, your grades have been getting better, haven’t they?”
“what are you? my dad? you’re checking my grades now?”
only if he wasn’t so stupidly handsome, you would probably smack him across the face or maybe choke him out. there was something about Leon that you liked, unfortunately. he was intriguing, he knew so much about you but you didn’t know anything about him.
he wasn’t in the frat, thank god. he was smart and had a large group of friends. you always caught them hanging out in the private study rooms in the library, the ones they always made sure to book. they all would stay there and hang out like obnoxious fools.
it was rare to see Leon smile and laugh, he looked like a completely different person. his eyes gleamed differently and he had a specific glow around him. maybe the reason you saw him so much in public or outside of his dorm was because you looked for him.
you looked for him and that glow.
“i’m not, the professor told me.” he watched as you continued to pack, were you really leaving? was he too harsh? sometimes he was only ‘mean’ to you to elicit a reaction from you. it was cute to watch your jaw drop and your fingers twitch as if you wanted to hit him.
sometimes, you played along, insulting him back. it was amusing to watch your spark glow into a flame. he hated tutoring but he didn’t hate you.
“of course, you practically suck that man's dick during office hours,” you said to yourself but loud enough to let him hear.
“that’s hilarious,” he said, rubbing at his nose bridge where his glasses sat.
“you didn’t deny it.” you huffed turning to leave until you were, very abruptly, yanked back. his hand had wrapped around your wrist, holding you back from leaving.
you turned back to him, his head was tilted to the side and he silently motioned with his eyes towards your seat.
“sit, we’re not done.”
his tone sent chills up your spine but you still refused, only if he didn’t look so damn good.
“yes, we are.”
you yanked your wrist away from him but much to your prevail, that only prompted him to stand up, grab you by your hips, and push your right back down into your seat.
“no. we are not.”
you sat still, bag in your lap, eyes wide and lips shut. did he just…man handle you back into your seat?
he sat back down in his seat after you, rolling his jaw with a sniff. “where were we?”
you remained silent and still, you knew if you got back up to leave he’d only pull you back down into your seat. though, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. the minute his large hands fell onto your hips there was a burn that ran through you, and it wasn’t rage.
“what is variance?” he asked turning towards you.
“standard deviation squared,” you replied, very straight and mellow-toned.
a smile grew onto his lips, the blues of his eyes gleaming and his pearly white teeth slowly revealing from underneath his pink plump lips. “good, you’re getting the hang of it.”
ever since then, Leon was very comfortable with touching you and kind of controlling you. tugging you by your wrists, guiding you with his hand on the small of your back, touching your legs, or shoving you to get your attention.
you were slowly losing it. you couldn’t even think straight, he was such a distraction. his voice, his hands, his scent, everything. the way he dressed was always so casual but he always looked so good, basic sweats with graphic tees or a sweater.
glasses, hair sometimes a little messy. you noticed when he was very focused his tongue would stick out from the corner of his mouth, it was cute, to say the least. he’d scrunch his nose to keep his glasses up on his eyes, he rolled his ankle instead of bouncing his leg, and when he laughed.
it was boisterous and full of light. you never thought that you could make him laugh, even if he wasn’t laughing with you rather he was laughing at you.
-
“are you serious? it’s like you don’t retain anything at all, how did you even get accepted?”
that one kind of hurt but you were too focused on the brightness in his cheeks and his perfectly straight teeth.
“well the acceptance rate is pretty high so…” you shrugged turning back towards your notebook.
you kept on denying the fact that you very much had a crush. is it wrong to find someone attractive? no, not at all. it’s a regular thing to find people attractive, doesn’t mean you have a crush on them. but this … is different.
a month and a half in you were beginning to realize you very much had a crush on Leon. you were beginning to get used to him and he was getting used to you.
you looked forward to tutor sessions now, practically dropping everything to go and see him. you began putting on extra perfume and wearing your hair down rather than keeping it up.
you kept your attire casual, you didn’t want him to think that you were dolling yourself up for him. so pajama pants or sweats were your usual go-to.
little did you know, Leon noticed everything. he was keen to snuff people out. he could smell you from a mile away, that heavy fragrance of yours was slowly seeping into his clothes and his brain. even after months, everything you touched was beginning to smell like you.
he noticed how your makeup slowly became heavier and your hair was all nicely done for him.
to be frank, he was flattered. he hoped you were getting all dolled up for him and not the guy who constantly blew up your phone. who is he? is he a boyfriend? a relative? a crush? a friend? who is he?
Leon wants to know, who do you see throughout the day? who are your friends? what do you like? do you like him? do you hate him? every time he sees your face he just wants to know, who are you?
Leon sat at his desk, waiting for you. his hands were folded up to his mouth and his leg was bouncing anxiously. you’ve never been late, well except for that first day but other than that you were always on time. always.
the pillow you occasionally sat in your lap during these sessions was now in his lap. it smelt just like you. at first, he wanted to snatch it away from you the moment you put the pillow into your lap, hugging it against you and spreading your germs onto it.
but then, it was nice. it was your signature pillow, you looked for it every time you came over and placed it directly in your lap. now, he finds himself carrying it around or having it next to him while he sleeps. is that weird?
well, it was his pillow in the first place. what’s so wrong about having it in his bed? it’s comforting.
his eyes quickly flicked over when his phone screen lit up, he looked over at it quickly reading the notification. you texted him.
was something wrong? are you sick? do you no longer need tutoring?
he quickly unlocked his phone and read the message, the pillow now bunched up underneath his nose as he slowly inhaled and exhaled your heavy scent.
‘hey, might be running a little late today :/. there’s a lot of traffic.’
traffic? where are you coming from?
‘k.’
he kept his reply short and nonchalant even though his curiosity was close to killing him. he knew the semester was close to ending, meaning he wasn’t going to see you afterward. it’s a big campus, so many buildings and so many students. he rarely sees you.
though, he catches a glimpse of you in the library, walking and talking with your friends. in the lunch hall, always getting the same drink from the vending machines and leaving in a hurry as you typed away at your phone.
you told him you had no boyfriend, but maybe you were lying to him. maybe it’s because he wasn’t a close friend of yours. that’s right, he’s just a tutor — not a friend or a love interest in your eyes.
he sat there longer than he anticipated, he didn’t realize how long he had been sitting until there was a knock on the door. he stood up, tossing the pillow in his lap aside onto his bed and rushing to the door. almost tripping over the clothes and mess that sat on his floor.
shit, he forgot to clean. he kicked the mess aside as he made his way to the door. kicking it under his bed mostly. he almost tripped on one of his shoes, letting out a small cuss before stumbling more towards the door.
the chaos behind the door caused you to furrow your brows.
“Leon? you good?”
“yeah! hold on!” he shouted out. you nodded slowly, itching at your ankle with the tip of your shoe.
Leon looked down at his attire, week-old sweats and a white sweatshirt with oil stains on it.
he turned away from the door quickly and silently ran back into his room, he needed clean clothes and he hadn’t done laundry all week. he didn’t have time, all because he was too busy thinking about you.
he quickly threw his sweatshirt off, taking the glasses off his head in the same swift movement. now he was just a mess, feeling around his bed for his glasses like Velma from Scooby Doo. all while his sweats were halfway on his legs.
“shit, shit,” he muttered to himself and he almost sighed with relief as he finally found his glasses and a clean, well decently clean, sweatshirt.
he rushed over to the door, sweat sticking to his hairline and very much out of breath. when he swung it open he was met by you looking down at your phone, texting someone once again. you looked up at him with a smile.
“what were you doing in there, huh? hiding a girl from me?” you taunted with a smile. he took notice of your outfit once you stuffed your phone away, a small wine-red top paired with some baggy jeans. you had a nice pendant necklace on, hanging right between the swell of your breasts, and cute little bracelets all up your wrists.
your makeup was done nicely, same with your hair. you were very very pretty today. you always were. but who did you look pretty for today?
“don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed, stepping sideways and letting you inside. you chuckled to yourself, finishing up your text to your friend before your phone was miraculously snatched from you.
“no phones tonight.” he snapped at you, taking a sneaky peek at your text convo. it wasn't a guy, it was a friend who was a girl. you two were speaking about a house party and tutoring. he lifted an eyebrow and looked down at you, he was completely ignoring your small grumbles of complaints.
“you were at a house party before this?”
“nosy much!” you snapped as he shut your phone off and stuffed it away into his pocket.
“answer the question,” he sighed like a disappointed parent.
“yes, i was and i ditched it to be here. with you.” you finalized.
he wasn’t gonna lie, the last part of your sentence sends electricity through his veins. you ditched fun to be here. not for tutoring. not for your grade. but to be here with him. he had no words, he was just frozen in place not sure of what to say or do.
“um, no phones today no distractions. midterm is coming up and i don’t want you to fail,” he said, clearing his throat. he shut the door softly and locked it. he turned to face you, taking off your shoes with a pout.
“aw, you care about my score?”
he rolled his eyes, shoving past you with another scoff. “yeah because your score reflects my tutoring.”
"and here i thought you hated tutoring,"
"i do, hurry up and get inside."
you smiled up at him, walking further into his room and instantly looking for your pillow. it wasn’t in its usual spot but you found it on top of his bed. his very tall bed. you jumped up, half of your body on the bed and your legs dangling off the floor.
you outstretched your arm for your his pillow. it was just at your fingertips but still out of reach. why did his bed have to be so big?
Leon watched you struggle for a bit, amused at how hard you were working just for a pillow. he also took this chance to admire how good you looked, almost perfect. bent over the edge of his bed, shirt riding up to reveal more of your back.
he couldn’t help but imagine you in this position but in different circumstances. his hands on your waist, bodies sticky and sweaty, hips rocking against one another.
he was quickly shaken out of his trance when you hit him in the face with the pillow.
“let’s get this over with, my friends are expecting me back in two hours.”
he cleared his throat and nodded with a small, “yeah.” his voice cracking in between.
it was hard to focus, he couldn’t stop looking your way. he couldn’t dismiss the burn that flew through him every time your knees touched his. he couldn’t form a sentence when your eyes would lock with his as you patiently waited for him to teach you something else.
almost like a dog waiting for a fucking treat.
the mascara on your lashes made your lashes pop more, shiny gloss on your lips, and the blush on your cheeks was nice and bright — but not too obnoxious. what was obnoxious though was your top, so dangerously low and that pendant hitting the fat of your breasts with every movement.
you were speaking to him but his eyes were focused on your pendant necklace. you took notice of it, stopping midsentence and looking down towards your necklace that he was so focused on.
“who’s the one distracted now?” you chuckled, taking out the pendant from your shirt and showing it to him.
“where’d you get it from? a boyfriend?” he asked out of nowhere. even his own words caught him off guard. he didn’t mean to ask that last part but it has been on his mind forever.
“Leon, how many times do i have to tell you?” you sighed out, leaning back into your chair and crossing your legs. “i don’t have a boyfriend.”
“then who is currently blowing up your phone?” he asked, motioning down to your phone constantly buzzing in his pocket.
“my friends,” you said with a shrug.
“i don’t believe it.”
“well, you should.”
“what could they possibly want to talk about?”
“you,” you said, looking from your phone lighting up in his pocket then back up at him.
you watched his eyebrow raise in confusion and he tilted his head to the side once again in disbelief. but you nodded slowly leaning towards him.
“they think you’re hot,”
“oh really?”
“yes, really.”
he scooted closer to you, both of his meaty thighs now trapping yours. his pupils dilated as he looked into your own. instantly, your palms began to sweat. you crossed your arms over your chest, subconsciously trying to shoo away the goosebumps rising onto your skin.
“what do you think then?” he asked, his voice low and his eyes flickering down to your lips and staring there.
“of?” you answered with another question.
“you think i’m hot?” he was inching closer closer, surely this was another way to tease and taunt you. even so, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were shrinking away from him.
“mmm not really, you’re kinda ugly.” you lied. that was the biggest lie you’ve ever said out loud. you haven’t even admitted your little crush to your friends. you were denying it to your core but right now with him so close like this, his breath fanning against yours and his hands placed on either side of your chair — you were ready to give up.
“liar.”
“not a li-“
before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours. soft plump and warm. wet from the amount of times he’s licked over them with a hint of mint from his gum. you kissed him back, leaning forward to press your lips against his even more.
your entire body lit up, you could feel your knees grow weak and the butterflies in your stomach felt more like a wildfire. with every smack of your lips, there was another spark and more of that fire spread.
his hands found your waist, tugging you up off your chair and towards him. you accepted his instruction quickly and obediently. he pulled you into his lap, hands moving from your waist and towards your hips.
his thumbs rubbed at your skin, calloused fingertips colliding with your soft skin. hot and gentle. you moaned onto his lips, tilting your head to the side and bringing your hands from his shoulders and towards the nape of his neck.
shivers ran through him at your touch, the cold sweat on your fingertips and your manicured nails scratching at his scalp.
he ran his hot tongue along your bottom lip and you welcomed him. tongues finding each other in a heated and passionate battle. you moaned at the minty taste on his tongue practically melting into him.
his hands found the small of your back, pressing you closer to him until you could practically feel his heart beating against yours.
he reached down into his pocket, bothered by your buzzing phone. he threw it to the side and onto his desk, he couldn't care less where it landed, he was more focused on you. your gloss stuck to his lips, it tasted fruity like cherries and he could taste the smallest twinge of rum on your tongue.
he pulled away, one hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you in your place, “drinking and driving, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, rolling your hips down into his, “it was just one shot.”
you kissed him again, feverishly. you were hungry and desperate, you never wanted someone so bad. even if he made you feel like shit, pretty privilege at its finest. you didn’t care if he tugged and shoved you around like a damn rag doll, it was hot.
you didn’t care if he insulted you, part of you really fucking liked it.
he kept his lips on yours as he let his hand run down underneath the curve of your ass and the other guided your thigh around his waist. he stood up taking you with him, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck.
you held him close, both of you kissing at a slow and deep pace. in all truth, you didn’t think Leon was interested in you in the slightest but judging from the way his hands traveled all over your body you were very very wrong.
his hands reached up beneath your top, feeling for your bra clasp but he was surprised to find none. you smirked against his lips.
“no bra, fuck that’s hot.” he sighed against your lips, copying your smirk.
he threw you down against his bed, watching your hair splay out around your head like a halo. your lip gloss was ruined, smeared all over your mouth and your lips were now plump and glossy with his spit.
you looked up at him, the fire behind your eyes and adrenaline running through every vein in your body. you propped yourself up onto your elbows, slowly scooching away from him as he crawled towards you.
his hands on either side of your frame, icy blue eyes staring right into yours. his lips were now swollen and pink, some of your lipgloss smeared all over his mouth.
“where you going?” he taunted, a certain tone in his voice. his hands reached for the hem of his sweatshirt, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side along with the rest of his clothes. you scanned your eyes up and down his built figure, who knew he was so muscular.
underneath all those sweatshirts and loose tees was a greek god. chiseled muscle and wide shoulders, his arms were thick and looked as if they could kill. no wonder he could throw you around like you weighed nothing. he was built like a fucking tank.
your eyes trailed down to the happy trail, you witnessed now and then. sharp v-line, light brown hair with a single vein running down.
his hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you down the bed until his face hovered over yours. “my eyes are here,” he told you before placing his lips on yours. your hands ran up his arms and up to his shoulders, you sunk your nails into his skin creating little pink crescents.
one of his hands kept him up while the other worked with the button of his jeans. the minute he got the metal button off, he was tugging them down your thighs and you helped by lifting your hips for him.
he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then your jaw. his kisses were wet and slow, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties.
“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe. your body shook with excitement every time he touched you, your body immediately responding to any of his calls. you were under his control and his command.
“i need you,” you whispered to him.
“shh shh, how about this?" he shushed, removing his glasses and then throwing them onto his desk.
he smirked at his own idea, loving the sound of what plan just popped up into his head.
" if you get these answers correct you’ll get what you want, ‘kay?”
you threw your head back against his pillow, whining his name. he swatted your ass as a warning as he traveled down your neck with opened-mouthed kisses, “i’ll stop.”
“no! okay, okay.” you exclaimed. he smiled against your collarbone, sinking his teeth into your skin as his hand traveled up the sheets to play with the hem of your top.
“give me five different ways to collect data,” his hand traveled underneath your shirt, his thumb finding your perky nipple and swiping over the bud slowly. you shivered at his warm touch, your brain melting and your mouth opening into a silent moaning.
“answer me, baby.”
“um surveys, experiments,” you began, trying to focus on his question rather than his touch. he pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his knee slotted between your legs and pressed against the gusset of your soaked panties.
he applied just the right amount of pressure and friction to your clothed cunt, earning him a small moan.
“an observational study,”
“good good,” he praised, lifting up your top and bunching it above your breasts. he watched them spill out and bounce, “so pretty, baby. give me two more.” he placed a soft kiss over your hard nipple and watched your body squirm for him.
“focus groups and- fuck and sampling,” you whined, arching your back towards him.
he grinned down at you, one hand cupping your left tit while the other stroked your cheek. “good job.”
he placed another hot kiss over your nipple, dragging his teeth ever so slowly over your hot skin.
this was killing him more than it was killing you. but he just loved teasing you, the excitement in your body, the hunger in your eyes, and the desperation in your voice. he loved having control over you.
“what’s the formula for a z-score?”
“Leon!”
he swatted your thigh as a warning, “say it.”
you pursed your lip, watching him place small kisses around your areola, purposefully avoiding your sensitive nipples.
“x minus x bar-“
“do it correctly,”
“sample size minus the mean, divided by the standard deviation!” you whined out.
he rewarded you by taking your nipple into his mouth, harshly sucking and dragging a long whine out of you.
you’ve never been so sensitive before but he was bringing everything out of you. your hips began to grind down against his knee, the smallest amount of pressure against your clit was all you needed. you were aching for him, clenching around absolutely nothing and dripping into the gusset of your panties.
his hand was splayed over your stomach, his thumb playing with the hem of your lace panties. his lips left your nipple with a pop and he looked up at you whilst biting down on his bottom lip.
“if the mean is more than the median,” he began kissing down the valley of your breasts. “how does the graph skew?”
you couldn’t focus, your brain was mush and you were very lightheaded. you couldn’t breathe and you were aching for him worse and worse every coming second. you tried to go over his question but every kiss he placed on your skin was a distraction.
“come on, baby you got it.” he said, now completely in between your legs. his hands were running up and down your thighs, keeping them at either side of his head. he placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, sucking and then dragging his teeth over the small hickey.
your hips bucked up and your legs began to shake, “Leon, i don’t know.”
“i know you do, baby. come on,” he hummed against the skin of your thigh. the smell of your pussy was making him dizzy, it was right in front of him and god he needed it so bad. he could see how wet you were, just for him.
he wanted to rip these pretty lacy panties right off of you and devour your pussy whole, but he wanted to wait. he wanted to wait until you were at your limit, he wanted to watch your eyes roll back when you finally got what you both wanted.
“um, it skews right!”
he smiled against your inner thigh, placing a kiss on your abdomen and then moving your panties to the side. his cock jumped at the sight of your cunt right in front of his eyes, dripping wet and quivering just for him.
“answer this next question right and i’ll let you cum, ‘kay?” he said placing a kiss over your swollen clit.
“fuck!” you moaned out, hands reaching for his blonde strands.
“what is the empirical rule? and what does every single one of them mean?” he asked, prodding his tongue at your hole. his breath was hot against your clit, your whole body was shaking to the point you couldn’t take it.
“Leon, i-“ you stammered out with a tear running down your temple and into your hair.
“come on, we just went over this yesterday.”
“i can’t,”
he gathered a glob of spit onto his tongue before spatting it against your pussy, watching it drip from the hood of your clit and over your fluttering hole. “yes, you can.” he egged on.
“it’s mmm,” you pursed your lips and squinted your eyes close, you just needed to think and avert your attention away from him. “68% falls um one standard deviation of the mean,” your statement was more like a question.
he confirmed your answer by flattening his tongue over your slit and languidly licking upwards. he moaned at your taste, practically drunk on your pussy already. he shut his lids and let his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“95% is two and 99.7% is three!” your voice raised a few octaves as the languid strokes of his tongue became faster.
he was done testing you, for now. right now, he’s focused on making you cum all over his face. his arms wrapped around each of your thighs, holding you close to his mouth as he got to work. his thumb went to find your clit, rubbing small slow circles around your swollen nub.
“oh god,” you sighed out. his tongue prodded at your dripping cunt, messily lapping up at your juices mixed with his saliva. you arched your back, your fingers digging into his scalp both pushing him away and pulling him closer.
he applied more pressure to your clit, his tongue plunging in and out of your hole shamelessly. wet and sloppy sounds filled the room along with the sound of your messy moans and chants of his name.
“fuck, so good.” he moaned to himself, completely focused on your pleasure even if his hips were grinding into his sheets. he could cum just like this, to the sounds of your moans and the taste of your cunt.
he couldn’t wait to fuck you, to feel the warmth of your walls suck him in, and the sound of your moans directly in his ear. but he needed to be patient, he needed to reward you for doing so good in class.
he picked up his pace, taking turns fucking his tongue into you feverishly and sucking on your clit. your legs shook around him, thighs clamping around him and keeping him locked in place.
“yes, Leon! i’m close,” you moaned out, drool gathering at the corner of your lips and more tears spilling from your eyes. he kept his pace, not moving faster or slower but he just applied the smallest pressure against your clit that sent you over the edge.
you cried out, arching your back and curling his sheets into your fist. with your release, stars danced behind your vision and every muscle in your body contracted and then relaxed. he eased you down from your high, sucking at your clit lightly and drawing circles over the bone of your hip.
he looked up at you, lips swollen and slick with your release. he placed a kiss on your abdomen with a grin plastered across his cheeks.
his blonde hair stuck to his forehead sweaty and hair disheveled all because of you.
“you did so good,”
your whole body was worn out, your eyes shut ready to pass out but he wasn’t done. he tugged your panties down your legs, keeping them scrunched in his fist.
“i’m not done testing you baby,” he said placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Leon, please,”
he ignored your pleading working himself out of his sweats. you caught a peep of a dark grey splotch in his sweats, either from when he had his knee placed against your heat or his dripping tip.
“get this question right and i’ll fuck you, got it?”
you nodded excitedly, biting down on your bottom lip. you watched his cock spring out and god was he pretty. tip swollen and red, veins running up his girth, thick and long. god, of course, he was big.
“words, baby. i need words.”
“yes, yes, okay!” you snapped at him, very obviously sexually frustrated. he didn’t like your tone so he slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, sending a shock wave through you.
“watch your tone, i don’t have to fuck you, i don’t have to give you a second orgasm,” he grabbed your chin harshly and tugged your head up to face him, “understand?”
“yes,” you croaked out.
he placed a kiss on your lips, letting you get a taste of your juices still on his tongue.
he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, his shoulders tensing up and his hand twisting in his own sheets. it was taking everything in him to be patient.
“how do you find the three quartiles?” he asked, pressing his tip against your fluttering cunt. you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out but a weak moan. he watched you closely, not breaking any eye contact.
his pupils were blown out, only leaving a halo of his blue irises.
“please,” you croaked out.
“come on baby, you got this.”
you gulped down a lump, getting rid of the dryness in your throat. “the first quartile is the 25th percentile,” you answered weakly.
he pressed his tip into your dripping cunt, hissing at how your pussy was practically ready to suck him in. your breath hitched at the stretch and a tear ran down your temple, he kissed it away, leaning his forehead against yours.
“keep going baby, you got this.”
“the second is the- the median. 50th percentile, the third quartile minus the first,” you rambled, looking up into his eyes as he nodded his head.
“good, good,” he moaned out, giving you just a few more inches of his cock.
“the third one is 75th percentile,”
with your final and last answer, he thrust his cock all the way in, until his tip was kissing your cervix. you sucked in a shaky breath, your thighs shaking as you adjusted to his size. he kept his tip pressed against your cervix, stroking your thigh with his large hand.
“s- so big, fuck,” you whined out, walls fluttering around his girth.
“shh shh, take it. take it.” he whispered close to your lips.
“lower fence versus upper fence, quickly.” he was struggling to stay still, he was torturing both you and himself. you choked back a sob. you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you and god you couldn’t even think.
“lo- lower fence is the first quartile, mmm,” you moaned out.
“come on,”
“first quartile minus one point five times the IQR,”
he sighed out against his lips, grinding his hips into yours earning him a whiny moan from your quivering lips. “one more baby,”
“upper fence is, shit, it’s the third quartile plus one point five times the IQR.”
he was done.
he pulled out and then thrusted straight back in, your whole body convulsed. every tense muscle in your body relaxing the moment he thrusted his cock back into you. he cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. he kissed you hungrily, invading your mouth with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you.
his hips continued to snap into yours, bullying his cock into you with no remorse. each thrust of his cock stroked at your g-spot and your body would jolt from the force.
“been waiting to do this forever,” he spoke into your mouth. “fuck, you’re so beautiful,”
you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. his hands reached back towards your top, tugging it over his head and throwing it off the side.
he was quick to cup your breast, slotting your nipple between your two fingers and then slamming his lips against yours. you scratched down his back helplessly, the fresh polish on your nails chipping and blood seeping through the cuts you were giving him.
you couldn’t focus on anything else but him, not only did you really like him but he was also fucking you so good. his pace was perfect, his touch was intoxicating and his lips were hot.
there was a ring of white forming around the base of his cock, lewd noises spilled from both of your lips as you both found yourselves inching closer and closer to your highs.
your kiss grew sloppy and his pace quickened, “this pussy ’s so good, fuck,” he groaned out, moving the hand from your breast towards your clit.
your whole body shook once his two fingers began to draw figure eights around your clit. the slow pace of his fingers contrasting with the fast pace of his thrusts.
“god, look at you,” he breathed out, “all fucked out on your tutor's cock, huh?”
you couldn’t reply, only croaking out a moan of his name.
“fucking whore, came here for math help now look at you,”
his words only added to the tension in your abdomen, the burn in your stomach getting hotter and hotter.
“i’m gonna cum,”
“go ‘head baby, cum all over my cock,” he said, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips.
you whined out, chasing his lips for another kiss but he denied you with a shake of his head.
“i wanna hear you,”
you looked into his eyes, seeing a reflection of yourself in his glossy eyes. mascara smudges, lipgloss gone, hair a mess. all because of him.
“fuck!” you moaned out, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your head back. he was quick to guide your head to face him, he kept his eyes locked on yours watching your pupils dilate as you came undone.
your walls fluttered around his cock, clenching down as your orgasm hit you like a heavy wave. he pulled out quickly, finishing himself off with heavy and breathy moans.
you watched as he came. thick, white ropes of cum decorating your stomach and abdomen. his abs tensed up with each spurt of cum and his hips still bucked up.
he let out a final breath into the crook of your neck. both of your bodies shook against each other, hot, sticky with sweat and cum.
he leaned up out of the crook of your neck looking into your eyes and you watched as they gleamed, such a rare light in his eyes but you were glad you were able to see it.
he pressed his lips to yours, this time it was slow and deep. there wasn’t any hunger or lust, just pure passion.
“i’m sure you won’t fail that test,”
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(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest & photo of leon from @/laughingwallaby on twitter)
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inkskinned · 4 months
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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.
in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.
it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.
i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.
sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.
and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.
once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?
i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.
my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."
the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.
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