sleepy makeouts with prof!ryland. youâre exhausted from the amount of college work you have, and you just got off a shift at your job that was an hour longer than it was supposed to be. he offered to come pick you up, and on instinct he kinda just takes you back to his place.
you two take a shower together. heâs washing your body for you, hands touching your body like itâs a sacred object, and to him you areânot that he can say anything along those lines. youâll never know it, but thereâs this small part of him that feels nothing but guilt for putting you in this position, but his lust love for you overpowers it.
so after heâs drying you off and helping you slip into a change of clothes, he takes you to cuddle with him in the couch. itâs all sweet and warm at first. his hand travels up and down your back, alternating between tracing patterns along your body and fiddling with the fabric of your top.
when you lean up to kiss him, a quiet thank you that was intended to be quick and soft, it turns into another, and then a third, followed by a fourth and fifth before heâs guiding you closer and brushing his tongue along your bottom lip. things just naturally escalate but it lacks the usual energy. he really doesnât mind. he spends hours kissing you like this; slow, reverent, swallowing the tired moans that leave you when brushes his hand against your bottoms.
all of your worries easily slip away as ryland gently guides you through the kiss. you donât have to think about anything other than his hands and lips and tongue.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
sigh thinking about this outfit specially on professor!ryland grace. requests are open if you wanna send thoughts in !!
mdni. afab!reader but no pronouns mentioned. professor x grad!student. the suit stays ON !! protected piv. iâm new to writing smut so please be gentle with me. 1.9k words.
Professor!Ryland Grace who decides to wine and dine you when summer break hits. You finished the year off with a near perfect score in his class and he thought you deserved a reward for all of your hard work. He tells you to dress nice, maybe even sends you some money to buy something to wear if you donât have anything. (he loves the thought of you spending his money. He already takes care of you during class as your professor to make sure youâre doing your best, why not do it a little more outside the classroom too?)
but youâre so nervous because neither of you had done something like this before. All of your time together was spent in his office or when he invited you to his house to help go over lecture notes and âstudyâ so when you assisted him in cleaning the lab room after class like you usually do and he asked if you were busy tomorrow night, you assumed it was for something less intimate. But then he tells you to dress nicely and says heâll pick you up that evening you're not quite sure what to expect.
Suddenly youâre tearing apart your closet in search of something that qualifies as niceâwhat does he mean by nice? What color do you wear? What shoes to get?
But then he sends a couple hundred to your phone and a link to the restaurant he made a reservation at and it somehow soothes everything over a little. And you do use his money! You go to a shop that has exactly what youâre looking for, getting something that makes you look classy but also reveals just enough to tease a little, but publicly unacceptable. You spend hours getting ready, checking yourself over time and time again because Professor Grace is incredibly handsome and youâre anxious about looking good for him.
When he pulls out in front of your apartment in an unfamiliar carâyou assume heâs probably renting it since the only wheels youâve ever seen him on are the ones attached to his bicycleâin a black striped suit, slightly unbuttoned red shirt beneath it, you pause to fan yourself. He looks really fucking good. Part of you wonders if thereâs enough time before your reservation to take him in the backseat of the car.
Yet all those thoughts melt away when he opens your car door, hand pressed against your back when he greets you. âHi, sweetheart. You use my money on this? Itâs gorgeous on youâyou look gorgeous in it. No, wait, youâre gorgeous all the time.â
The feeling of his fingers tracing along the fabric of your outfit sends goosebumps across your skin. But you laugh when he cuts off his ramble by kissing your temple, something heâs only ever done when he was fucking you into the mattress and making you tell him about your previous research project.
âYou donât look half bad yourself, Dr. Grace.â
âRyland. Call me Ryland. Please.â
You canât help the way you grin when he corrects you. Heâs letting you call him Ryland. None of your peers call him that, youâve only ever heard it from other professors when they talked during office hours or in the halls. âRyland.â You amend, finally climbing into the car and letting him close the door for you.
Heâs a complete gentleman the rest of the night. A little nervous, awkward quips coming from him while you eat and share a bottle of wine that sounds like it costs more than your monthly phone bill. Youâve never seen him like this. Shy, you mean. He is always so self-assured in the lecture rooms, especially when he lets some of his sass slip. It makes this feel incredibly intimate, like youâre special for being able to see this side of him. Like heâs trying to impress you even though he has a Phd and numerous published papers.
The night moves from the restaurantâwhere he paid the bill and gave you a look when you offered to split itâto his house. Youâve had sex before, many times actually, but this was different. You could feel it in the way he lets you press him against his front door, his hands gliding along your body like heâs trying to commit the shape of you to memory, kisses all slow and tender. It makes your heart hammer beneath your sternum. You can feel his matching the pace of yours beneath the palms youâre resting against his chest.
He guides you gently to his bedroom with sensual kisses. Letting his lips meet yours before slowly traveling along your jaw, his hand moving to cup your cheek so he can tilt your head to the side. Heâs murmuring sweet things as he does it. All kinds of compliments that make an overly giddy smile bloom on your face.
He takes his time with you tonight. He undresses you and leaves kisses on each area of you he opens to himself. Itâs an intense contradiction to your usual nights spent together. Heâs worshipping you, and he looks good doing it. He hasnât bothered to remove any article of his suitâmuch to your enjoymentâeven when he has you sprawled on his mattress, bottoms gone and thighs pushed apart to make room for his face between them.
He lets his hands caress up and down your legs, his lips tracing where his fingers donât reach. His glasses dangle from his ears in a way that is simultaneously attractive and amusing. You want to run your fingers through his hair thatâs a little overgrown, something he stopped caring for so close to the end of semester. His kisses slowly trail down to your core in a way that has you almost whining from impatience. He must seem to notice because his tongue takes a long drag through your folds, pulling a quiet sound from you. He lets one hand travel down to rest on the spot where your hips meet your thighs, using it to keep your body in place when you try to squirm away. âNo, baby, hold still. I skipped dessert for this.â The other one squeezes your other thigh like heâs trying to ground himself to you. He spends a long time there, slowly pulling more and more sounds from you, moaning into your slick when he feels you tug on his hair.
His lips glisten when he finally pulls away, his swiping along them in an attempt to catch the remains of your taste on his tongue as he stands. His hands move to his blazer but you stop him quickly, sitting up with a vigorous shake of your head. âNo! Leave it on. Please. You look good. Really good. I like it.â
He laughs at you. Not in a mean way, the sound is laced with something incredibly sweet, like the whole idea of you liking the suit so much has him completely charmed. And it does.. Heâs enamoured with you.
âI can wear it another time. It wonât be leaving my closet anytime soon.â His reasoning is sound, but the huff you let out tells him you donât really care for a reasonable argument. And the idea makes him pulse. The ever present fact that youâre so attracted to him you want him to keep it on. âIs that it, then? You want me to fuck you like this?â
He leans closer to you as he says it, voice low as he plants his hands on your waist. You nod so quickly he wonders if you even heard what he said. âYes.â
He guides you further back on his bed until you meet his headboard, where he gives you a kiss that lets you taste yourself on him. Itâs sensual, his tongue sliding between your lips as he kneels in front of you, one of your legs trapped between his knees, using his headboard to keep him upright while he keeps your face pressed to his.
Youâve come to learn that you thoroughly enjoy his slightly overgrown hair. You lace the strands at the nape of his neck between your fingers, slightly pulling on them until he whimpers into your mouth. Itâs like the sound alone breaks him from his trance, a pink tint blooming along his cheeks like heâs embarrassed to have made the sound at all.
You pout a little when he pulls away, but itâs immediately replaced after you hear him shuffle around in his dresser drawer. You donât have a chance to peek at what heâs doing before a familiar packaged square is held by two of his fingers in front of your face. âShow me what you know.â
You nod and snatch it from his fingers. He laughs at you again, amused and a little (very) turned on by your excitement. He leans back just enough that he can undo his belt and unzip his slacks before your hands are on him. He almost moans when you guide his cock out of his underwear, his body tensing at the feeling of your hands on it before you roll the condom down his length.
Suddenly heâs the impatient one. He leans forward again, guiding you into your back, resting your head on his pillows until heâs laying over you. His hand clings to your hip as he starts kissing you senseless, swallowing down your moan when he pushes inside of you. Your hands grasp onto the back of his blazer.
You didnât know someone could be so fucking hotâespecially a man at least ten years your senior, wearing an all too appealing suit, pants and underwear undone just enough so he can fuck you in it.
âFuâfudge, sweetheart. Always such a good listener for me. My best student,â he cuts himself off with a moan, grabbing ahold of your arm to press it against the mattress, hand sliding up until he can interlock his fingers with yours, holding your hand while he pounds into you with a new vigor. He uses his other forearm to hold himself up, resting it right beside your head. âGod, youâre an angel. Perfect scores on all your work, always so helpful after class. Now look at you, taking me so well.â
âDr. Grace!â You moan it loud when he hits a certain spot, his words sinking into your brain all nice and slow until his pace falters, slows down, and you huff. When you open your eyes, thereâs less pressure from above you, your eyes barely managing to meet his piercing blue ones.
His glasses are askew, barely holding on when he speaks. âNuh uh. Whatâd I tell you earlier, hm? Use that brain of yours and think back. Youâve always been good at remembering stuff for me.â
At first youâre confused. Heâs said a lot of things earlierâDr. Ryland Grace is a rambler. He talks and talks and talks, which you suppose is good for being a professor, but itâs less good now when youâre so drunk off of him.
âWhââ You speak, trying to blink away the fog before he rolls his hips into yours, slow and deep, like heâs trying to give you incentive.
âWhen I picked you up. What was it I told you?â
Itâs a hint that you grab onto like a life line, because god you just want him to move, and you really, really try to think.
Ryland. Call me Ryland. Please.
âRyland, please fuck me.â
âGood job.â He doesnât give you another second to think before he resumes his prior pace, resting his weight back onto you with a sloppy kiss.
contents :: professor x grad!student. no pronouns mentioned but reader is afab & is mentioned to wear lace panties. ryland takes said panties #pantythief. small refernece to this fic but you donât have to read it to understand whatâs happening. some domesticity and mentions of a foot massage but itâs not sexual. new girl mention bc im watching it rn. angst if you squint. clothed grinding. maybe ooc ryland. this fic is lowkey a flop, im so cringe at writing smut. most likely some anatomy inaccuracies because i am very sleepy as i write this. this one is for my martie baby @thisroomboring 1.4k words
â§â áľáľ đ â ËâŽ
Ryland had been in your apartment for a total of an hour until he had your hips pinned to the mattress. The warmth of your bedroom feels distant and too much all at once. Your skin has a sheen of sweat that begins to sink into your sheets.
It was pre-determined that youâd have to wash them later, but the reminder is clearer in your head now.
A breathy moan is rung from your throat as Ryland licks through your sensitive folds. Heâs been down there for what feels like hoursâkneeled at the foot of your bed, one hand pressing on your pelvis to steady your twitching body still while the other grips the upper part of your thigh, fingers twisted into the soft lace of your panties.
You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your skin in a way thatâs bound to leave a more pleasant version of carpet burn.
This isnât a completely unfamiliar position. Your professor often finds himself pressing his face between your legs. Heâd whisper about it being his favorite place in the world in a way that felt entirely truthful. Whenever you brought it up heâd get this shy tint of red on his face and pretends like he didnât know what you were talking about.
He just continues to prove how honest he was when he said it.
Itâs never happened here, in your apartmentâheâs been here a total of once, on a night youâd gotten a little too drunk and forgotten by your friends. Him having you in such an intimate position in such a vulnerable place made each hot press of his tongue against you stronger.
When he replaces his tongue with his thumb, lightly brushing the pad against your clit, the pleasure it causes makes you blank. You twitch so hard it makes Ryland chuckle, the sound deep and breathless. When he pulls away youâre unsure if the cry is from relief or missing him.
âI canât get what I want out of you if you keep moving, angel,â his words are thickly sweet but entirely lustful. He shifts, deciding to pull your panties fully off before wrapping his toned arm around your leg, laying his other arm fully across your hips. âLet me work.â
His mouth returns to you with a new sense of passionâone that makes him groan into your folds when you moan his name, the sound wet and choked. Before he was slow, savoring you like heâd never get a taste of you again. Now heâs drinking you up like youâre a fountain of youth, and heâs a greedy mortal who found you after years of searching.
When he pushes you over the edge, you swear youâre on cloud nine. He takes you through it, not letting up until he feels your trembling hand push at his head. You barely manage to catch a glimpse of his face as his tongue darts out from his lips, licking the remaints of you off them.
Ryland quickly climbs over you, hands starting at your hips before he glides them up your slick skin until it reaches the fabric of your shirt thatâs bunched around your ribs. He pulls the fabric down and presses a kiss to your cheek. âShower?â
You donât process his question at first, your response breathless and endearingly late. âI need to wash my bedding.â
âLet me.â
You laugh, turning to face where heâs laying beside you. You ignore how warm his gaze makes you. âYou donât know where the laundry machines are in my apartment.â
âI can find them.â
âYou also donât know where my laundry detergent is.â
âYou have little faith in my detective skills. I put Sherlock to shame.â
You roll your eyes as you sit up, your heart calmer than it was. âI would need the entire student body to count the number of times youâve lost your glasses.â
Ryland is unaware that a big reason he can never find them is because youâve hidden them. You like seeing the frustration on his features when he canât figure out where he misplaced them, partly because it put you on the receiving end of some pretty amazing sex. âThat doesnât count! Just let me do this for you. Please.â
His plea is compelling. You give in quicker than you should. When you guide him to the small closet beside your bathroom where you keep all of your cleaning supplies, he gives you a tender kiss that almost masks the way his hand grazes your ass.
He looks a little too smug when he retreats back to your bedroom. Thereâs a distant sound of running water as he strips your mattress of its blanket, then the comforter and sheets. They all lie in a pile on the floor right beside your discarded panties.
Ryland has seen similar pairs on you in a variety of colors. Some he liked a little more than others. He doesnât think twice when he picks them up and stuffs them into his back pocket.
By the time your shower is done and youâve changed into something that isnât drenched with sweat, Ryland is returning from transferring your bedding from washer to dryer. Your shower was much longer than you intended.
The rest of your afternoon starts in the kitchen as he assists in making something to eat, which is more of you cooking and him offering words of encouragement and cleaning the dishes when you finish with them, then continues with you two on your couch. Your socked feet rest in his lap while the two of you watch New Girl.
Itâs more of him watching New Girl as you admire him.
He pretends to be less into the show than he is, eyes glued to the screen despite his glasses dangling off his ears. Rylandâs hands have been softly massaging your foot the entire time; the gesture is domestic and ventures outside of the lust-filled box you two have built around yourselves. It makes you wonder whatâll happen when you graduateâif this will even last that long.
The sense of dread that brings is all consuming, but is washed away when he turns to look at you.
Neither of you say anything, the space filled with the sound of the tv and your rotating fan that sits in the corner of your living room. He slowly moves on of your feet so he can twist himself onto his knees, slowly crawling between them until heâs hovering over you. Youâre caged beneath him as he stops, one hand on the armrest of your couch while the other cradles your face.
The kiss you share is instinct, almost. His lips are soft against your own, before he trails them all across your face, using his warm palm against your cheek as some kind of leverage to keep you from moving even when you're laughing at the tickle of his stubble against your skin. Ryland doesnât bother to hide the way heâs smiling before heâs diving back in, kissing you with want.
He rests his body weight on you, letting go of the armrest so he can pull your leg over his hip, grinding his crotch into your own with slow rolls of his hips. When he makes you gasp he doesnât hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth. He can taste a hint of mint from when you brushed your teeth after eating.
He suddenly misses the taste of you heâd gotten earlier.
When he pulls away, youâre trying to catch your breath. In the process of grinding and sucking in his tongue, you managed to pull off his Periodic Table of Elements shirt that fits him a little too snug.
The sight of him leaning back so he can shuffle further down your couch, shirtless with low hanging sweats, makes your core feel like molten lava. Part of you wonders if he can sense it with how desperately heâs trying to tug your pants and underwear offâwhich he manages to do at once.
Youâre filled with a sense of disbelief as you sit up, watching him lie down between your legs. âRyland, you were down there not that long ago.â
He doesnât respond right away, preoccupied with tossing one of your legs over his shoulder as he guides himself closer, kissing along your groin. âIâm going back for seconds.â
The embarrassed shiver his words send through you is short-lived. He doesnât let you process them a second longer before heâs kissing your folds, taking a long, slow drag of his tongue through them that makes you lie back down.
He doesnât let up when you finish this time around.
you are super cool but also a little intimidatingâšď¸
I will give you a thought
Imagine stealing Prof!Ryland's boxers after you sleep together and he doesn't know. For the life of him cannot find this specific pair that's nerdy and stupid. Sad that he has to get a new pair. Until he's undresseimg you and then pulls your pants or whatever down and then sees hHIS fucking boxers
Then finds out you've gone to class with them on before. He doesn't know what to do with any of that information but he sure as hell finds it hot
Anyway no idea if this is coherent so sorry if it's not
NOOO im sorry im intimidating, pretty please know i love getting asks and interactions from people. they always make my day!! thank you for this thought itâs genuinely heaven.
you honestly didnât really think twice about snatching pair. your underwear was ruinedâdr. grace got a little too excited and tore them, heâs only slightly embarrassedâso itâs well within your right to take a pair of his boxers. especially his ones that are so stupid they make you smile.
but after that, he has been searching for that specific pair for DAYS!! when he didnât see them in his dresser, he thinks maybe theyâre in his laundry basket. after he does laundry and realizes that arenât there while folding them, he makes sure his dryer didnât eat them. when he notices they didnât heâs a little annoyed.
how does someone lose a pair of boxers?
he finds them on your later that week. you initially came over so he could look over your paper on microbial denitrification, itâs no surprise it leads to him kissing you sloppy while carefully pushing you towards his bedroom. thatâs his fault too. heâd been leaning over your shoulder, his voice in your ear while he points out things to correct, occasional murmurs of quiet praise that go straight through you. him placing his hand on the back of your neck was the cherry on top.
thereâs no shame in the way he reached to undress you. in the steamy stumble from his kitchen table to his unlit bedroom you managed to tug his sweater off. heâs wearing an unfairly tight shirt that reminds you that you came here wearing his boxersâthey almost match.
after he finally has your pants tugged off, he freezes completely. his hands linger near your hips, thumb absentmindedly brushing the waistline of his boxers. the ones heâs been searching for the past few days that youâve apparently had this whole time.
he wants to be annoyed with you, but the sight of you in his underwear does something to him. âhow long have you had this, huh?â
âsince last time I was here,â you start, trailing your fingertips up his arms, amused by the goosebumps that bloom beneath them. âiâve been wearing them all day.â
today was one of the days you had a lecture with him. the entire classâthe entire dayâyouâd been wearing his boxers. his body works quicker than his mind does, his hand sliding down your hip to brush his fingers over your clothed folds. the cotton fabric is damp from your growing wetness. the sound you let out at his touch, however brief it was, makes him twitch in his jeans.
he should be embarrassed that heâs so turned on simply by you wearing his boxers. he canât bring himself to be, not even when heâs pushing you into his mattress and flicking on his bedside lamp. the orange lighting quickly gives him a proper look of you and the damp patch he touched just moments before.
he spends a long time working you with his fingers without ever having to take them off. he wants to make sure you come in his boxers before you come on his cock.
professor ryland grace and reader who is obsessed with dad rock. i mean im not really a dad rock person but just imagine sex with ryland after he distracted you from studying after class and youâve still got your airpods in and âsex on fireâ by kings of leon is blasting in your ear while he fucks you. yeah okay. walk with me please.
also love you and your writing
ohhhhh baby we are not walking we are RUNNING with this. youâre actually the smartest person on the entire planet!! i love dad rock. dad rock is my shit. this is perfect. i will be making sure a similar scenerio appears in another professor! ry fic but with deftones.
you came to his office to run over some of the concepts youâre still a little muddy on. and it was going well, after he cleared things up you just decided to stay in there for a bit with the initial intention of revising your notes more.
one thing just led to another. you go from sitting on the couch he has for visitors to being perched on the edge of his hardwood desk that trembles each time his hips meet yours. itâs an intoxicating combination to the songâthe feeling of one of his palms on your back while the other rests on his desk beside your hips, using his hold to lean you back enough to make him sliding in and out of you easier.
you donât even realize heâs been talking to you until heâs leaning back far enough that his face is in front of yours. his lips are moving but but you canât make out what heâs saying. you blink a few times before reaching to take one of your airpods out. âWhat?â
He scoffs, but it lacks any real annoyance. âSo youâre not even listening to me? Youâre an awful student.â
His hips roll into yours in a way that nearly has your eyes rolling. Instead you squeeze his shoulder tighter, the fabric of his shirt scrunching between your fingers. âYet you fuck me like Iâm your favorite.â
He starts to say something but you donât have any interest in knowing what it is. You cut him off with a kiss, shoving your tongue into his mouth and feeling the wetness of his own as he moans. You haphazardly push the earbud into his own ear. The least you can do is share the experience.
When you two break apart, a string a saliva connecting you both, he mumbles something about being an undergraduate at the time the song came out. Neither of you ignore the way he twitches inside you after he says it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
prof!ryland where reader is falling behind and ry offers extra credit HEHE
extra credit with him is SO rare. i think he only really does it for students who absolutely need it and have come talk to him. so i think if he noticed you start falling behind, at first he is so worried.
heâll have you come in during office hours and starts asking you whatâs wrongâif school is too much, if anything is happening with your family, or maybe youâre having a hard time with friends. when he figures out the why, heâs very quick to offer up extra credit.
and i do think itâs ACTUAL extra credit, too. like itâs some extra work on what youâve fallen behind on, he gives you a week to do it. he checks in on your work when youâre done and i think it just escalates.
heâll have you sitting in his office chair, its raised up enough that he can comfortably fit his face between your legs from where heâs kneeling in front of you, and heâs making you explain everything to him. later when heâs putting in the grades, youâll notice your extra credit is a little more than originally planned.
everyone has me thinking about prof!ry day in and day out so i'm gonna wax poetic in ur asks
he literally just wants the best for you all the time. he takes care of you when you've been studying for hours, telling you to sleep because staying up all night won't help you test any better!! he'd help you make presentations for class (it makes me laugh to imagine him like judging the powerpoint format you've chosen, like he doesn't like the colour palette or something)
i feel like he'd come up with ways to make flashcard studying fun like he'd make up funny acronyms or mnemonic devices to help you remember them more. after you ace the exam or whatever your studying for he practically forces you to celebrate. oh and he makes sure you get a good nights sleep after :) he has his methods
- prof!ry lover #3 (after you and marten of course)
we can share prof!ry lover #2 baby!!! thank you for this, i love touching on sweetie pie ryland grace.
prof!ry is genuinely such a sweetheart to you. i think he can be very observant, he cares a lot about his students normally, so when it comes to you i think itâd be just a littttle stronger. if he ever notices something wrong in classâmaybe youâre not answering questions that are typically easy for you or youâre almost falling asleep in your seatâhe files it away until he has a chance to ask you about it.
due to his years of over-achieving in school and then adding in being a professor, grace definitely has a lot of study tricks hidden up his sleeve. heâs tried numerous methods and after having a much closer relationship with you, he knows which methods might be more beneficial to you and encourages you to test them out.
and he absolutely does judge your powerpoints. if you do a practice presentation with him that doesnât go well i just picture him sitting with his arms crossed and looking at you over his glasses. like in that one scene where grace is like strapped into the chair and his arms are crossed and his head is tilted down just enough and he has this slightly annoyed look ?? yeah thatâs him in that scenario. the sight almost makes you ditch the presentation entirely.
if he does notice youâre studying for too long or starting to get frustrated, heâs always ushering you out of wherever youâre sitting to take a break. makes you get some water and something to eat. if you ask him nicely enough (aka with a kiss) he will cook or order food for you.
he ALWAYS rewards you after an aced exam. he asks you what you want to get a nice dinner or maybe he can take you shopping and buy you something nice. you usually tell him he really doesnât have to anything but he insists. he makes sure youâre in for a real treat that night, too.
adding on to the idea of him seeing you falling asleep in class and his very effective methods of making you sleep. youâve been staying up late with homework and studying, maybe add having a job into the mix. you didnât sleep for more than maybe 4 hours the past few nights in a row, you just have so much you need to do!
he very strategically invites you over under the guise of helping you study for a bit. what heâs really planning to do is fuck the stress right out of you and making sure you have a full nights sleep. he achieves that goal each and every time, you always wake up to breakfast in his bed.
age gap prof!ryland is nice and all, but guys what if i also suggest prof!ryland who was lowkey a child prodigy and graduated high school early. got his masters in microbiology at like 24. heâs been teaching for maybe five years since then, makes him around 29.
everyone is so surprised to see such a young professor, especially one as smart as he is. whenever i write for reader i picture them at like 23-24ish. you are only a grad student so when you figure out heâs only like 5 years older than you youâre FLABBERGASTED.