ACQUAINTED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⸝⸝ jason todd
⎯ ⟢ your ta refuses to give you a second chance for your midterm, so you resort to the oldest trick in the book.
ft. fem reader / teacher’s assistant jason todd
“—just give it another read and i’ll be out of your face” you plead, jogging to keep up with his long strides.
jason todd had completely violated your midterm essay with red ink, leaving notes like “intro is too fluffy”, “less explanation, more reasoning”, and “weak connections”
you really thought having a younger ta would be more convenient. someone close in age who understood the chaotic balance of a college student’s life, the work hard, play hard lifestyle.
unfortunately, he seemed to have skipped the play hard part entirely and dedicated his entire life to taking his job too seriously.
“the thing is, i did study. i studied so hard my brain almost started leaking out of my ears” you huff, practically speed walking just to stay in his pace.
“better luck next time, then” he deadpans, turning sharply down a hallway.
you refuse to leave it alone just yet. “you don’t understand, this grade is holding my whole average down. if you just look really hard at my essay again, you’ll realize it’s actually a masterpiece and change it to a b plus or an a minus. i'm okay with either”
around you, students drift past. entirely ignoring your spectacle, you two were just two more students anyway.
“i know it was a piece of work. just not a very good one,” he mutters, reaching for the heavy glass exit door. “you get what you earn, not what you think you deserve”
in a desperate movement, you catch him by the forearm, the one not currently holding the door open. jason halts, turning back to look down at you with a gaze so intensely unamused you thought about dropping this whole thing.
your eyes briefly drop to the fact that his forearm is surprisingly solid under your fingers. you let go immediately, clearing your throat.
“j, please. you’re not breaking a single rule by glancing at a couple of papers for two minutes. call it an error when you fix my grade, nobody has to know” you bargain, your dignity completely abandoned.
“j?” is all he says, raising a single eyebrow.
you are more than infuriated that that’s the only part of your speech he registered.
“can i call you j? we’ve practically known each other for three years, nicknames are important for friendships” you argue, offering a helpless shrug.
a humorless chuckle slips past his lips. “we know each other, yes. exclusively because we share the same department and we are definitely not friends”
you stick out your bottom lip. “we could be. think of the matching tattoos”
“goodbye, sweetheart” he says, shaking his head and giving you an unyielding nudge backward so the heavy door doesn’t shut right in your face.
you stand there, staring at his retreating back through the glass.
sweetheart? ugh. that was what your professor, a sweet old lady, tends to call anyone who’s a year younger than her.
unfortunately, you respect her way too much to walk into her office and make a fool of yourself over a graded paper, knowing she’s already busy as it is.
plus, that’s literally what a ta is for. and unfortunately, jason todd is a stubborn jerk who refuses to give you the time of day, let alone a second chance.
you turn on your heel and stalk back toward your dorm, thinking of ways to force him to read your paper again.
serving is an art and you definitely take pride in your work. tips aren’t easy to come by but you’ve mastered gaining them. a soft, sweet smile paired with a quick joke goes a long way especially with the older crowd who tips in loose bills and praise.
unfortunately, you live in a college town so it’s never a rare sight when the usual frat boy stumbles in without an ounce of basic manners.
thankfully, today is a slow day. you’ve only spotted one of the usuals so far and the small diner you work at isn’t anything fancy but it brings in just enough cash to keep paying for your housing on campus.
you lean against the counter, half listening to barbara engaged in a harmless but dramatic argument with one of the line cooks in the back. she must see the wheels turning in your head because she eventually breaks away and drifts over.
she bumps her shoulder lightly against yours. “what’s up?” she asks.
“just thinking” you murmur, keeping your eyes on the floor.
“about?” she inquires, resting her hip against the laminate.
“my midterm” you admit, letting out a heavy breath.
“he still hasn’t budged?” she asks, knowing how desperately you need those few extra marks to drag your grade out of the gutter.
“nope” you say, lingering on the pop of the letter.
as if heaven itself had suddenly heard your desperate pleas, the front door chimes and jason todd, in all his insufferable glory, walks in.
you both freeze and look up. he clearly has no idea you work here or you know for a fact he would have willingly walked into any other diner in town just to avoid you. you and barbara share a knowing look as he takes a seat at a booth in barbara’s section.
you stand up straight, instantly planning to to fight barbara for the table.
she holds up a hand before you can even open your mouth. “all yours, babe” she says, a smirk playing on her lips as she pushes herself off the counter.
you make a straight beeline toward the booth at the very back corner of the diner.
he’s already settled in, laptop open with a scattering of heavy looking papers taking up almost the whole table. you don’t even wait to be invited, you just slide straight into the opposite bench of the booth before he can tell you to move.
he looks up, surprised for a fraction of a second before his expression flattens into that familiar look of rejection.
“stalker much?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“actually, you walked into my place of work, so technically that makes you the stalker” you fire back.
“mhm. a black coffee and a slice of pie would be great, assuming you can manage that before you start causing noise pollution” he says, making you roll your eyes as you violently swallow your pride.
“it’s on the house if you look over my essay again” you press, leaning forward to try the persuasion again.
“nice offer but i can afford a cup of coffee” he replies, his eyes already drifting back down to his glowing computer screen.
“how about free pie for the rest of the month?” you try again, narrowing your eyes.
“i don’t even know if it’s good, never tried it. so why don’t you do your actual job and bring it to me?” he says and that detached tone genuinely sets you on edge.
“actually, we don’t serve pie after twelve” you say, offering an unbothered shrug.
he looks back up at you then, raising a dark brow. “right. then a cup of coffee would be fantastic or do you not serve those past twelve either?”
you huff, sliding out of the booth to fetch his stupid coffee and march right back over, dropping into the seat again.
“didn’t know waitresses spent their shifts sitting with customers” he remarks, not looking away from his screen.
“we do here” you snap back. “how about this, i’ll pay you out of pocket for every single minute it takes you to review my paper?”
“i don’t need your money”
“but i need your help!” you plea, resting your chin in your hands.
“can’t you take no for an answer?” he asks, his voice laced with a dry teasing and genuine exhaustion.
“what do you want then?” you demand.
he glances up at you briefly, the diner lights catching the sharp line of his jaw. “for you to go away”
“you have to want something” you persist.
“i think you heard me clearly the first time”
“you don’t want money, what about drugs?” you blurt out in desperation.
“what?” he asks, his brows pulling together in genuine bewilderment.
“you don’t want drugs? maybe some illicit weapons? i could find a guy” you offer.
he stares at you for a long moment. “you do refills on this coffee?”
“only if you agree” you counter.
“please, please, jason,” you beg, your voice dropping to a whine.
he gives you an unamused look just as your name gets loudly called out from the kitchen window.
you lean slightly over the table, close enough that his eyes are forced to lock directly into yours. “this isn’t over yet, todd”
he just hums dismissively, typing on his keyboard.
you roll your eyes, actively fighting the fierce urge to smack him right across his unfairly well structured face.
“cute uniform, by the way” he calls out casually just as you finally slide out of the booth to leave.
you let out a loud scoff, the hem of your skirt shifting as you turn and walk away with a heavy footed force.
when you finally push through the swinging kitchen doors, your manager is standing right there, arms crossed with barbara lingering close behind.
“as much as we want you girls to have fun, we don’t pay you to entertain your boyfriend of the week while you’re on the clock” your manager says flatly before turning away.
you’re left standing there, glaring daggers through the small window toward your stupid ta.
grades aren’t due for another three days and it’s like the universe is on your side because the second you step into the cafeteria, there he is.
the dining hall isn’t too packed. a few students are laughing, others deep in their work. he’s leaning back in his chair, chatting it up with his friends. you vaguely recognize them, one is barbara’s old (or current, you really couldn’t tell with those two) hookup and the other is a sophomore, you think.
as you march toward their table, you rehearse exactly what you’re going to say to make him change his mind.
“don’t mind if i do” you say as you slide into the empty chair next to the sophomore. he gives you a puzzled look but beside him, the other two exchange a knowing look.
“can’t even enjoy the company of my friends without you ruining it, sweetheart?” jason asks, at this point you know this is more amusing to him than anything else.
“evening, guys,” you offer a small greeting. “so, back to you” you direct your gaze straight to jason.
from the corner of your eye, you can see dick, barbara’s favorite toyboy, flashing an amused, knowing smirk similar to jason’s. tristan or tyson, you really still couldn’t figure out the sophomore’s name, simply looks confused.
“there has to be something that you so desperately need and i will be the one to get it for you, no questions asked” you say, leaning slightly into the table.
he shakes his head, folding his arms and placing them flat on the surface to mimic your posture.
“it’s fine if you don’t want to say it out loud. i’ll start listing, and you just tell me when i hit it” you press on.
“you said no to drugs or weapons. how about some sort of technology? a phone, a computer, a secret gps tracker? no? how about… revenge? you must not like someone here, i’ll steal their bike, i can get someone expelled? no? what about girls? you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”
he raises an eyebrow. “no. why, you offering?” he asks, heavily flirting.
you furrow your brows. “do you want me to be? because i’ll be the best girlfriend ever. i’ll even become your wife if you bump my marks up” you say with enthusiasm.
he chuckles, leaning back and sharing a look with dick.
“very stubborn, aren’t you?” richard asks, which you know better as dick, even though it doesn't sound like a question.
“learned from the best” you reply, nodding toward jason.
“what about you guys?” you decide to pivot away from jason. “you must want something? i’ll do anything as long as your buddy over here fixes my grade before the deadline”
grayson shakes his head. “not on my end”
you catch the sophomore next to you debating it in his head before jason and dick shoot him a look that clearly promises a quick death if he even thinks about opening his mouth.
you huff, sinking back into your chair.
a heavy silence settles over the table as you all just trade glances.
“what’s your name again?” you turn to the guy on your right.
“what, can’t i make friends?” you ask as innocently as possible.
you offer your name in return, straightening up in your seat. “so, tim—”
“tim, don’t” jason warns again but you completely ignore him.
“is there something you’re tired of dealing with? i can take care of it for you” you say, leaning in to give his shoulder a reassuring tap.
“do anything for him and i’ll never even give you the time of day” jason snaps from across the table.
you scoff. “you hardly do anyway”
you give tim, who you had been wildly off about, a deeply pleading look, eyes wide with a tiny pout. it actually looks like he’s about to cave until jason stands up, followed closely by dick.
“don’t be weak, drake,” jason says, turning on his heel. “let’s go.”
you roll your eyes and slouch down. “you guys are no fun”
“find other boys to mess with, sweetheart” jason calls back, leaving you stranded at the table with your own crushed triumph.
before you can retreat to your dorm to probably cry, your phone buzzes in your back pocket.
you pull it out, seeing a message from barbara.
b <3: grayson texted “your friend is quite persistent”
you: geez, u two still in contact?
you: im seriously running out of bribes
b <3: you haven’t offered the oldest trick in the book
your eyes widen and your jaw slightly drops as you read the message that comes right after.
the party is at full blast, the frat house packed with warm bodies and not nearly enough room.
you and barbara make way through the crowd, your tipsy state making every step almost impossible.
giggling the whole way, you stumble into the kitchen. it’s still packed, just not quite like the living room or the patio. you lean your back against the cool counter, attempting to chat with barbara or at least trying to hold her attention.
“—and then she said… b!” you call her out. she was totally checked out, her eyes already drifting away toward the edge of the room.
you follow her gaze. it lands on one of the guys who had left you stranded at the dining hall yesterday.
she and dick lock into some weirdly intense eye contact. you look away, but not before taking a second glance, if he’s here, that must mean jason is too.
you scan the room a little more until you spot him standing near dick, talking to someone else.
barbara seems to have spotted jason in that exact same group and she snaps back around to face you.
“go talk to him ” she urges.
“right now? are you crazy?” you exclaim.
she just shrugs her shoulders.
“if you’re actually planning on whoring yourself out, you need to be confident. it’s the whole reason you’re here” she offers bluntly.
you whine the second the words leave her mouth, the reality sobering you up instantly. “i need another shot or something”
you two manage to get your hands on a sketchy mixed liquid that’s twenty percent juice and eighty percent pure alcohol. it burns as it trails down your throat the second you swallow it.
“you got this” she encourages as you turn to face probably the most humiliating thing you’ve ever willingly subjected yourself to.
you navigate into the crowd until you’re staring at his back. weirdly enough, he looks even taller from this angle.
you reach up to tap his shoulder. he turns around, looking down at you with those piercing eyes.
“hi” you say, your voice so impossibly meek you can hardly believe it came from your own mouth.
he excuses himself from the person he was talking to, immediately turning his full attention back to you.
his gaze drifts down, taking in your thin, tight top that clings to the curves of your torso like it was made specifically to seduce any guy in your vicinity. your skirt isn't helping your case either, sitting low on your hips and leaving little to the imagination.
he only wonders how you managed to make it this far into the house without a weird crowd of guys trailing behind you like lost puppies.
he chuckles darkly. “not going to let me enjoy a party?”
“you’re a senior, you’ve attended plenty, i’m sure” you say as he leans down slightly to hear you over the heavy bass of the music.
“i’ve been to one or two,” he answers with a smirk before leaning down even further, right against your ear. “can’t hear you well, sweetheart. let’s go over here” he murmurs, guiding you with a warm and steady hand on your lower back.
he steers you back to that exact spot in the kitchen where you and barbara had been mere moments ago, though she’s nowhere in sight now.
you lean your elbows back against the counter just slightly. he stands right in front of you, practically caging you in as one of his hands comes down flat on the counter beside your hip, grazing the fabric of your skirt.
“so, what offer have you come up with now?” he asks, at that point, it feels like he was practically begging for it.
“do you want a blowjob?” you blurt out.
the second the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them right back and leave, either from the party or the country, you haven’t decided yet.
his entire body stills for a fraction of a second before he laughs and it’s not one of those dry, humorless chuckles he’d hit you with before.
his laugh is rich, carrying a low, rumbling sound that makes it impossible to tell if it’s the sound of his voice or the heat of the party that’s suddenly rushing to your cheeks.
“i’m serious” you insist, though a soft and mortified smile tugs at the corners of your lips.
“are you?” he asks. the laughter has faded but the usual, lingering smirk remains. your eyes drop to his lips for a second before snapping back up to meet his.
he catches you looking. his expression softens into something a little more dangerous and he mimics your movement, his eyes dropping to your lips too. a delicious, nervous churn twists deep in your stomach.
if it hadn’t been for your midterm, you wouldn’t be standing here offering yourself to jason. the thought makes you mentally call yourself an idiot because he’s so painfully and effortlessly hot that you can’t believe it took you this long to really notice.
no, you always knew he was attractive, but you had no idea just how much.
“that’s a new one” he says, snapping you right out of your daze.
“what? you’ve never been offered that before?” you snap back.
“no, i have. but the sincerity of the offer caught me off guard” he replies smoothly.
“mhm. even if it weren’t for your grade, you’d still want to sleep with me” he says.
you scoff. “real confident, aren’t you?” you shoot back, even though your heart skips a heavy beat against your ribs. “plus, i asked if you wanted a blowjob, not to sleep with me. sounds like you’re projecting”
he chuckles low in his chest. “caught me”
your heart practically stops.
“so, have you actually taken the other offers before?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.
“depends” he says, tilting his head.
“what test?” you ask, utterly baffled.
“the kiss test” he says, leaning in closer.
your breath hitches. it feels like some invisible magnetic force is pulling you two together.
the tips of your noses brush and a second later, your lips meet his.
his hand immediately finds its place at your waist, while yours naturally goes to the back of his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape.
the kiss is unexpectedly gentle. his lips are soft and as you linger, they mix with the sweet trace of lip gloss on yours.
he breaks the kiss for a brief second, just long enough to look down at you before diving right back in. this time, his other hand finds the nape of your neck, fingers seek to hold you securely and deepen the pressure.
this kiss is a lot more pronounced, a little sloppier around the edges but still firm and hungry.
his tongue brushes against your lower lip, just on the verge of parting your mouth entirely before he abruptly pulls away. you’re left standing there, chest heaving, completely breathless and panting.
“did i pass?” you ask, trying to keep it light through the haze.
he lets out a dry, raspy chuckle. “oh, yeah”
“how many girls have passed?” you press, still struggling to wrap your head around the fact that this is apparently not a first.
you scoff, shaking your head. “you wish” even though you are very much dying to know the answer.
“meet me tomorrow at my office during office hours for tutoring” he says and for a fleeting second, you completely forget why you even agreed to this in the first place.
“i didn’t ask for tutoring” you pout.
“you get what you earn, not what you think you deserve” he echoes, throwing his own words right back at you again.
“you still didn’t answer my question” you point out.
he steps back just an inch, giving you some breathing room. “only you have passed”
“so i’m good enough to pass but not to fully get what i want? i guess i’ll just have to work on my kissing techniques, then” you tease, a glint in your eye.
“as long as it’s not with a guy” he replies, his voice dropping an octave.
“then how am i supposed to get feedback?” you joke.
“buy a teddy bear or something” he fires back, turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing there completely flustered, flushed and utterly fucked.
you don’t know why your pacing around outside of jason’s office. this is what you had wanted, to persuade him into giving you better marks.
tutoring isn’t exactly what you had hoped, especially after that little stunt you pulled at the party but it’s better than sitting alone staring at a blank piece of paper.
as you finally hold up the courage to knock on the door, it’s as if he was waiting right behind it.
it swung open and he was standing there, wearing grey sweatpants and an old white shirt that clung a little too well.
you’d never seen him like this, only ever trapped in conformity attire of a ta. never relaxed, and oh boy, were you in deep trouble.
“coming in?” he asks, a slow smirk pulling at his lips and you really hoped he eventually did.
you stepped in and he closed the door behind you with a quiet click.
his office was neat, though empty. a couple of textbooks here, a half empty mug there. he clearly didn’t spend much time here or simply didn’t care to make it look like he did.
“you’re quiet today” he says, closing the distance just a fraction as you finally turn to face him.
“just ready to learn” you say, letting out a dry giggle, instantly wishing you knew why you turned into a mess around him.
oh but you did know. the kiss hadn’t left your mind for a single miserable second since he left you breathless by the kitchen. it was a miracle you’d gotten any sleep at all.
oddly enough, there wasn’t a chair in front of the desk. usually, there was a visitor’s chair to talk over assignments but it was completely missing.
he probably noticed your hesitation over where to stand. “you can sit in my chair” he offers, gesturing to the massive leather seat behind the wooden desk.
you make your way around it and do as he says, sinking into the leather that still somehow smells faintly of his cologne. “where will you sit?” you ask, looking up through your lashes.
“ah, i don’t mind sitting here” he says smoothly, hopping up to sit right on the edge of the desk, facing you.
you gulp hard and quickly look down as his intense eye contact threatens to melt you right into the leather.
you clear your throat, reaching into your bag to pull out your essay.
“thought you might want to look at it again. since you were so pleased to tear it apart the first time” you tease, raising an eyebrow.
he grabs it from your hands, your fingers brushing against each other, sending a stupid little jolt up your arm.
he adjusts himself on top of the desk, his frame slightly hunched forward, legs casually spread. the confidence of his stance alongside those sweatpants is literally killing you.
you tried to look at literally anything else in the room but nothing was interesting enough to keep your eyes off him for ten seconds.
“i know which places you need improvement in” he finally speaks up, his voice dropping an octave.
“which are?” you ask, crossing your arms defensively over your tank top.
“all of them, sweetheart” he replies simply.
you let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back into the oversized chair “unbelievable”
“we can start from the top or the bottom, whichever you prefer to first”
“bottom. you said my conclusion wasn’t—” you start and he effortlessly finishes your sentence for you.
“i thought it was pretty solid” you argue, tilting your chin up.
he shifts on the desk, crossing one ankle over the other. “well, what makes you think it was so solid?”
“it summarized the main points, didn’t it?” you shrug, trying to match his tone.
“a fifth grader could do that and maybe, some of them do it better than you. at a college level, you need that and a hell of a lot more” he fires back.
“i didn’t just summarize” you retort, rolling your eyes.
“so, you admit you need more?” he says, a teasing, dangerous edge curving his voice.
“i didn’t say it was a masterpiece, i said it was solid” you snap, casually spinning your chair around.
he groans softly and your chair suddenly comes to a violent halt. he was no longer sitting on the desk, he had stopped it with his forearm right above your head, caging you in as he leaned heavily into your personal space.
“we’re here for tutoring, not play time” he murmurs in a warning tone.
“i wasn’t playing” you breathe out, your heart hammering against your ribs. “i actually know how to write a conclusion, you just love being a harsh critic”
“what?” your voice pitching up higher than you'd like.
“show me you know at least the basics of a college level conclusion” he explains, his face inches from yours.
you scoff, flashing a fake smile. “great teaching method, todd. really inspiring”
he chuckles, unfazed. “you’ll get rewarded if it’s good enough”
that makes you instantly perk up, your eyes locking onto his. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“do you know how to write it or not?” he asks, his voice growing dangerously on edge.
you swallow hard, nodding. “fine. first, i explain what the overall point of my thesis was, tying it together”
he nods slowly, still caging you in. you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body but you forced your brain to focus on the task at hand.
“for example, i show how my connections, which you called weak, actually matter. very straightforward unlike the body paragraphs” you continue.
he hums, a low vibration in his chest. his warm breath suddenly brushes against your neck as his head dips lower, his lips ghosting over your lower jaw.
your breath hitches in your throat and a soft gasp escapes you as his lips finally make firm contact with your skin.
he nips lightly at your neck, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “continue with your conclusion, sweetheart” he growls against your skin.
“y-your conclusion only matters if it’s backed up by true facts,” you tried your absolute hardest to keep talking, ignoring the way his hands started tracing up your thighs, “so whoever is reading it doesn’t doubt that the final point is...”
“is what?” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse point.
“inaccurate” you finish weakly, your hands instinctively coming up to grip his shoulders for support.
“what sort of structure do you use?” he ask, his thumbs tracing the hem of your skirt.
“the conventional one” you whisper and even to your own ears, your words make zero sense anymore. his lips are entirely destroying your ability to form a coherent sentence.
he chuckles against your collarbone.
his warm pecks continue drifting down your shoulder. his fingers slowly tugging down the strap of your jacket, leaving your tank top exposed.
he presses a lingering kiss right to the top of your shoulder and your arms naturally wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.
“what makes a conclusion complete?” he asks against your skin, his hands mapping the curve of your waist now.
“s-synthesize the connections,” you sighed out.
he drops down to his knees right in front of the chair, his hands sliding up to grip the hem of your skirt and your hips involuntarily buck upward at the sudden friction.
“and restate your claim without copying the previous paragraphs verbatim” you pant, your breathing coming in ragged gasps.
“such a smart, good girl, aren’t you?” he praises against your skin as he slowly rolls your skirt up your thighs.
you nod your head at the praise, feeling completely no control over your own body at this point.
he chuckles, a low sound that vibrates straight into the heat between your legs.
he hooks your legs over his shoulder and without bothering with your skirt, he just slides your panties to the side.
“what?” you whine as he simply stares at you bare.
“can’t believe everything about you is fucking pretty” he says, his gaze heavy as he looks at you.
you roll your eyes, your face heating up. “are you planning on just staring or are you actually going to do something about it?” you retort, biting your lip.
“im the tutor here, which means i have a higher authority. so you do as i say, not the other way around” he teases, running a lazy thumb over your inner thigh.
“if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll find someone else who will” you snark back, only half lying. “plenty of guys on campus would kill for this, jason”
his eyes darken at that. “always this bratty?” he asks, leaving a deliberately slow trail of hot kisses up your inner right thigh.
“only when asshole ta’s waste my time” you say, squirming restlessly in the chair as he holds your legs firmly on his shoulders.
“ta must really be a jerk, huh?” he teases, blowing a warm breath right against your sensitive core.
you gasp at the sudden contrast. “fuck, jason. shut up and put your mouth to better use” you snap, growing entirely impatient.
jason gathers spit and lets it drip right onto your heat, making you whimper at the slick drop. before it can slide all the way down, he laps it back up, swirling his wet tongue directly over your swollen clit.
“j!” you cry out, your hands immediately tangling into his hair for stability.
“so fucking sweet, too” he raps against you and the low hum only makes wetter.
the noises you're making only seem to egg him on, making him work harder and faster for your release.
his middle finger slides smoothly through your entrance, pressing in and stretching your walls easily.
you try to stifle your moans, briefly remembering where you are and the fact that you’re supposed to be in tutoring.
he shoves his pointer finger in right beside it and it becomes completely impossible to keep your sounds to yourself.
“so tight f’me” he mumbles against your skin, his tongue continuing to work magic on your clit.
you feel your walls start to clamp down and he definitely feels it too because he begins to murmur soft encouragements, ‘that’s it’, ‘let it out, sweetheart’ in between every stroke of his tongue.
your body trembles violently, crashing right down over his mouth and fingers as you ride out the intense high.
he pulls back slowly, his mouth glossy from your juices and his fingers dripping.
he sucks his own fingers into his mouth, staring right up at you as he lazily brushes the damp hairs stuck to your forehead.
he leans up to kiss you deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.
“we still need to actually work on your essay” he murmurs against your mouth.
you shake your head, kissing him back just as passionately. “fuck the essay”
he chuckles, guiding you out of the seat. just as you think it's over, he sits down in the chair, pulling you by surprise right onto his lap so your legs bracket his waist.
“let’s work on the top this time” he says suggestively, his hands resting heavily on your hips.
you giggle, leaning in close. “are you referring to the essay or the position?”
“whatever you want, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands guide your hips down against his hard length.
you lean right down to his ear, breathless. “what i want are the three extra marks”
he smiles and it’s softer than the usual smirk he gives you.
“you’ll get three extra marks on the grade book and maybe three red ones on your ass if you don’t start behaving, baby” he teases.
god, you were so glad you actually listened to barbara and her crazy ass suggestions.
august 2026 / merakiletters
daniela’s note: can’t believe i know how to write smut but not the basics to a conclusion !?
