I cannot believe I saw Ilya hitting it from the back, seeing Shane cum without even touching his dick and immediately lost his mind, thrusting harder and moaning his name on my TV screen.
Summary: You and your professor manage to carve out some alone time before her lecture.
Word count: 1.6k
Pairings: Professor!Agatha Harkness x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Swearing, pet names, semi-public sex, semi-public nudity, stripping, age gap, professor/student (uni/college), thigh riding, masturbation, semi-public masturbation
*Don't like the warnings? Don't read! 😊
Music: Violence - Grimes, Leash - Sky Ferreira, Got You - The Flys, Shy -Renee Rapp, The Subway - Chappell Roan, Lesbian of the Year - The Beaches
She's been eating mine and @ownedbyagatha 's brains the past few days (naturally) 🥺💜
Tip Jar💰
You've timed this all perfectly. That's what got you this far: punctuality.
It was something that Agatha had commented on now and again; how you could manage time so perfectly. Severely. Every second accounted for with none to waste on trivial things.
This was how you had gotten so close to your professor. She had trusted you with menial tasks and extra office hours. Graciously, you took them and allotted the perfect time into your already busy schedule just for her.
It didn't take you long to realize that she was banking on this and hoping you would.
You couldn't deny the way she would look at you while grading papers behind her desk or how her lips would curve into a wicked smile just after saying your name under her breath.
She had waited for you to make time for her and now, as you allowed the heavy wooden door to the lecture hall to close quietly behind you, you had calculated how much you could spare just for her.
Your shoes echo as you walk down the steep steps; one by one. She doesn't look up from where she sits and you stop for a moment to revel in her beauty.
Obviously much older, obviously proud of this factoid.
You stop on a step to catch your breath as you brazenly stare her down and take her in from afar. Nothing is out of place on or around her except for maybe, the way her hair always seems wild to you. Untamed. A very slight peek into her true nature that you've only been given small doses of.
You couldn't wait to unwrap her fully.
You collect yourself as you finally come to the front of the lecture hall. She still doesn't look up at you as she flicks through a stack of papers that are mostly likely the last essay you and your class handed in to her. There is no blatant expression on her face to give away if what's in front of her is passable or not and that is when you realize, she's not actively reading what's down in front of her.
This is just a beautiful little setup so she wouldn't be caught staring at you and waiting, waiting ever so slowly for you to descend towards her.
She is counting the time just like you.
You want to open your mouth to speak but you desperately want to hear her voice first. Praising you, complimenting you. Asking you to move into a position that works better for her.
You want her to direct and guide you down into your insatiable need for her.
You need Agatha to do this to you; scrapping the word 'want' from your thoughts.
You stand and wait beside her desk and take all of her in up close. Your eyes linger on the simple yet expensive black belt around her waist. Your fingers itch at the desire to unbuckle it for her.
"I think you deserve to take a seat, pet."
Agatha's voice was soft as she gripped the arm rests of her chair and pushed it out and away from the edge of the desk. Both her feet were flat on the ground; legs slightly open. She looked right into your eyes and you looked back into hers through her over-sized reading glasses.
You had to stop yourself from moaning as you got closer to her until your hand covered hers to help ease yourself down onto her left thigh.
"Oh no, sweet thing, take off your pants first..."
Agatha's voice was like warm honey as it dripped from her lips. It made you want to lick your own to taste the sweetness that lingered there. She wasn't condescending at all and it set a different level of desire stirring in your gut.
She was going to be sweet with you until it no longer benefited her and you could hardly wait.
Agatha watches as you shimmy out of your slacks and manage to get them off from around your shoes. You fold them up neatly and place them on the corner of her desk and make a mental note to not forget them there.
You can finally take your rightful seat and you wonder, if she's noticed how wet your underwear just so happens to be from her already.
Agatha's body relaxes as you sit your full weight down onto her thigh. You feel her steady hands wrap around you to hold you down; hold you close. She doesn't need to adjust as if she's calculated this before. How much she would have to shift and the way she held you to support your lower back with her fingers spread over your sweater.
You sigh in relief as you start to roll your hips towards her, grinding yourself down onto her perfectly pleated pants.
Agatha's fingers continue to spread against your sweater; nails dragging over the fabric until they slink down your back and then suddenly, you feel her hands press against your skin underneath your clothing. Your sigh turns into a high pitched whine; eyes falling shut as you rut a little harder onto her leg.
You can see her face perfectly in your mind's eye and you know she's smirking at you and the display you've given her so freely.
Desperate and wanting more. Literally fucking yourself down onto her fully-clothed leg.
Just when you think that was more than enough, you hear the soft coo of Agatha's voice,
"You're making a goddamn mess, pet...look."
And you do, of course you do as you open your eyes and look down between you both.
You've soaked right through your underwear and see the thin stretch of a wet patch covering just above Agatha's knee. Darker than the fabric of her pants; obvious to the trained eye between you both.
Did she bring another change of clothes for the lecture? Would anyone notice if she didn't?
The mental image causes you to bring your hands up and sink your finger into her shoulders as you double down. You need her so badly, you can feel the folds of your underwear and the friction of her pants rubbing perfectly against your clit.
Throbbing as you roll your hips back and forth you want nothing more than for her to fill you up until she splits you in two.
"Oh...oh god, Agatha...oh god I'm close...getting so close..."
With that omission, Agatha presses her nails a little harder into your skin as she drags her nails up and down. Surely, you'll be fully marked up after this. She wants to leave you a sweet reminder of this moment in time. A simple gift of how elegantly you both know how to carve time out for each other. For your desperate needs.
"That's it. That's it, sweet girl...you're so close, I can feel it. I can smell it."
With those words falling from Agatha's mouth, hung with a hitch in her own voice as she tries to hide her pleasure, you groan loudly and fall forwards. You feel your own thigh muscles clench and your toes inside your shoes curl. Pulsating so painfully your body screams at you to let go.
You can't.
Not yet.
Not when your hands are falling down from her shoulders to pull at the edge of her sweater to lift it up. Not only do you lift the edge of her shirt, but the underside of her bra as well. You lift until you get what you want and the look on Agatha's face is basically orgasmic in its own right.
Agatha moves with the same amount of desperation you had; one hand pulling away from your back as she uses it to hold up her bra and sweater to give you a proper look as you continue to grind yourself down onto her.
It's another perfectly timed gift as you stare, slack-jawed and basically salivating inside of your own mouth.
"You don't get to touch."
It feels like a slap in the face but all you can do in response is moan Agatha's name under your breath. Your fingers ache, burn. You want to lean forward and take her perfectly hardened nipples into your mouth and swipe your tongue over them. That same tongue swirls underneath and feel the weight of her breast in your mouth.
You're running out of time and she knows it.
Your classmates and her class are going to start filing into the lecture hall soon and you're still desperately rutting down on her thigh.
Everything that is Agatha swarms your mind and fills you up and allows you to teeter on the edge of your own pleasure. You don't have time to lose and with one last solid roll of your hips that friction connects so goddamn perfectly you feel your body give way into Agatha.
You can barely remember the fleeting time that passes between you that's so precious before you have to scurry back up those stairs and into your seat. You hear her whispering your name over and over again as she helps you up and fixes herself back up. You can barely stand on your own two feet, legs turned to Jell-O you lift yourself up off of her thigh and turn away from her.
Agatha remains in her seat, high and mighty with her shirt still lifted up for you to take one last look before she lets go to fix herself back up.
The damp patch on the fabric of her thigh is glaring and you know, as you hike back up the stairs and hear the echo pounding in your ears throughout the empty lecture room, Agatha isn't going to change out of those pants before class starts.
She wants you just like she always does. To sit there and suffer and keep your eyes on her at all times.
Because you know, when class starts in five minutes, she won't be able to keep her eyes off of you.
Mmm something something the first person Langdon tried to help in season 2 at the beginning of his shift was a guy who injured himself falling off his bike without wearing a helmet ("you should always wear a helmet") - that Robby prevents him from treating by sending him off to triage instead so he can avoid him.
Something something the last person Langdon tried to help before leaving at the end of his shift is Robby: a man hurtling towards injuring himself by falling off his bike without wearing a helmet.
