#thevodkadidthiswrites

[thevodkadidthis]

Hickeys and Sharpies.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Professor!Sebastian. College AU.  Warning(s): some light smut, cussing, age gap and fluff(?) Word Count: 2.2K words  Summary: when a supposedly one-night stands ends up with a twist.  Note: some 3am ideas came in mind, lmao. pardon me for being t h i s lame, hope you like this anyway! 

Cursing for what felt like the hundredth time even though you just got up from bed, you quickly paced around the room to pick up the discarded clothes that are scattered on the floor. You glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and frowned upon seeing that you are already a few minutes late for the first period.

Wearing nothing but your undergarments, you contemplated whether you should take a bath or run for class. Apparently, you still reek of alcohol, a bit of sweat and a bit of him. “Fuck it.” You muttered under your breath and went for the latter idea. You settled in wearing a printed over-sized shirt and denim pants, spraying a bit of perfume to try and hide the absence of a decent bath. You tried to comb your hair and fixed your appearance in front of the mirror. After a couple of attempts, you finally breathed a satisfied sigh and went on to attend the first period.

You didn’t want to be late, especially now that you are supposed to meet the new teacher for Linguistics. Throughout the trip to the campus, you couldn’t help but to visualize the things that had occurred the previous night, while trying not to mind the growing headache on both sides of your head.

Feeling reckless and adventurous, you and your friends decided to drink in a club that is a bit far from the dormitories, a bit far from the campus—to try and meet new people, and to try things out in other places. One of your friends recommended a certain place, and as you arrive at the front, you could already see the neon lights and other bright lights that seemed to shoot into the sky. You felt a wave of excitement in your gut as you entered the place; a crowd of dancing people drenched in sweat welcomed you, loud music boomed and reverberated from all places in the darkly-lit room. A friend immediately approached the bar and called all of you for a round of shots, tequila is always the best starter for a fun night, you thought, as you downed 3 shots of it. Quickly aiding the burn in your throat with a slice of lemon and salt that sits on the counter, you winced and closed your eyes as the familiar sensation caused by the alcohol slowly creep its way into your skin, and into your bones. Feeling a bit loosened up, you dragged one person from your group and headed to the center for a dance when one of your favorite songs plays. You swayed your hips and bobbed your head to the beat of the music. There were a couple of boys who started to dance around you yet you paid no mind, all of them looked wasted and shit-faced—you didn’t want that. After a couple of minutes, you approached the bar for another drink. Wiping the droplets of sweat that formed in your forehead, you asked the bartender for a tequila shot and fanned yourself using your hand to try and get some air.

“That dude right there wants to pay for your drink.” The bartender approached and handed you two shots of tequila, along with a slice of lemon and salt, like how you took it earlier. You glanced to the direction where he motioned and saw a man wearing black and tight sweater that obviously hugged his well-built body. You narrowed your eyes to try and get a better look, he certainly does not look like any college student. He was staring right back at you and raised his glass of beer, you mirrored his move and mouthed a thank you to him and drank the shot.

You entered the main entrance and checked for your schedule that’s in your phone, and started sprinting towards the room for your first class. Clearing your throat, you slowly opened the door in the back of the room and quietly settled into the seat on the farthest part of the room—however, everyone seemed to look at you despite of your efforts at trying to stay quiet upon entering the room, you even had your head down to pay some respect to the professor. Looking back at everyone, you couldn’t exactly decipher the expressions they have on their faces, they were simply looking, as if it’s the first time they encountered a student that is late for her class.

Then you stared at the front, where the professor stood, arms crossed on chest.

Jesus fucking Christ, you’ve got to be shitting me.

He didn’t try to stop the smirk that forms on his lips as he continues to stare at you, “Sorry I’m late, sir.”

“I was just discussing about the rules and regulations in the room, more specifically, how I do not encourage latecomers or tardy students.” He started to sit on the edge of his wooden table, your gaze dropped on his incredibly tight jeans that accentuates his thick thighs, your breath was caught on your throat because he knew where exactly you’re looking. “But I’m going to let you slide today, since you look like you had a rough night.” He continued, emphasizing the rough word and you felt your head spinning even more.

Everyone already stopped looking at you so you took that time to close your eyes and curse, again. Dropping your head low on the table, you mentally tried to remember the events again, as you try to come up with an explanation as to why you are stuck in a situation like this.

Once separated by a bar counter and a couple of tables, you and the stranger who bought you a drink somehow found a way to touch each other. You were suddenly back on the dance floor again, more loosened up than ever as you feel a pair of hands caressing your sides as he guides your hips and you just kept on swaying, you turned your back to him and danced harder, intentionally bumping your ass towards his groin and you heard how his breath got caught on his mouth, you smirked at him, feeling a bit more bold and confident, knowing you had that kind of effect over him. Reaching out to grasp a handful of your hair and tilting your head to the side, “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked and he didn’t need a verbal answer because you were already pulling his hand away and towards the exit.

You took out a notebook from your bag along with a black pen and started writing scribbles on the pages, momentarily looking up to the teacher and pretending to pay attention, but your mind is simply wandering away and into the memories from last night. You knew why his eyes always lingered on you longer, but you are always the one to break it off by drawing lines and odd shapes on your notes.

After a painfully long ride towards your dorm building, his impatience and growing desire was finally satiated as his lips crashed on you the moment your keys unlocked the front door. His hands were all over the place: one, it was placed on the back of your neck to press you more against him; two, he dragged it downwards to cup your breast; three, it was moving up and down on your sides while both of your tongues fight for dominance and power.

Deprived of air, he pulled away, and his eyes glistened with pure lust and desire under the dim lights of your room, “You’re wearing too much clothes.” He grunted, you pulled the hem of your dress upward and completely taking it off. He took a couple of seconds to stare at your body, drinking in your appearance.

You tried to pull his shirt away and you felt your thighs pressing against each other as you stare at his body, he had the most beautiful body you have ever seen and you knew you weren’t going to last long with him, you’d fall apart, almost immediately.

His lips found its way back to yours, with more force now and hunger, “I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

Chewing on the other end of the pen, you looked outside and at the windows as you keep on reminiscing. You really tried to pay attention and to listen to him, but your gaze kept dropping on his smooth and pink lips, the way his arm muscles flexed whenever he raises it, and how he lick his lips from time to time while speaking in front of the class. Then, you remembered the bitten marks on your chest and a bit on your collarbones while you were wearing your bra and the shirt earlier. You kept on looking down at your groin as the vision of your physical connection flashes by in your mind.

It felt good to be on top of him while his hands grip on your hips tight, you swore it will bruise the day after but you didn’t mind. He felt good inside of you as he fills you up and you continue to pound into him, your fingers made its way to your bundle of nerves and started to touch yourself but he was quick to spot the move and he swat your hand away, replacing it with his own.

Go on, let it all out

Moan my name

Come on, baby, you’re doing so, so good

That’s right, keep on doing that, just like that

His deep voice whispered, grunted and moaned into your ear as you felt a familiar pressure forming in your abdomen. You were trying to keep your voice down, at minimal level, or else everyone residing on the same floor as you will know just how loud you are during sex. But he wasn’t helping at all, he wanted to hear you, and he was either muffling your moans with his full mouth kisses, or he is urging you to moan out loud.

After a couple of thrusts, praising and moans from him—you fell apart, with shaking legs and labored breathing, you reached your climax and he was still going in and out of you in a dangerously slow pace, riding out your orgasm, when his movement shifted and got too fast again, you knew he was chasing his own. You collapsed on top of him, the side of your face resting on his chest and you tried to recover, to grasp for air again, as he did the same. He assisted you and laid you down on the space beside him, you were about to clean up but he draped a blanket over you and snaked an arm right at your waist, it was a very comfortable feeling, a safe one even, despite of how he is just a stranger and you literally met each other a couple of hours ago.

He kissed one shoulder as he hug you from behind, “You did well tonight, darling. Sleep tight.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the first period. You were quick to put your things away and shove them into your bag, ignoring the mess it would make on the inside of your bag, you didn’t care anymore, you just suddenly had the strong will to escape from this embarrassment.

“Miss? The one from the back.” You heard him call out, turning to his direction, you tried to know or to confirm if he was talking to you. And he was. With a sly smile on his face, “I need you to sign some papers here—attendance, since you were late.”

You swallowed hard, but continued to walk over him anyway.

You got into the wooden table and picked up the paper he was handing down, but you were surprised because it wasn’t a list of the class, there wasn’t any name printed on the sheet. It was a scratch paper, with words written in pencil.

Don’t go out yet, stay. Wait for the others to leave.

Your gaze immediately shot back to him but he was looking at the other students, bidding them goodbyes with the most polite smile he could ever give.

So you waited, until the last student got out.

“You didn’t send a text.” He started, with a hint of disappointment on his face.

Your mouth fell open, not quite sure what he meant, “What?”

He moved closer and reached out for your right arm, lifting the sleeve and exposing the skin on it. The way his fingers gripped you and how his skin felt hot against you sent shivers, but you looked at your own arm and you noticed the small numbers written with a sharpie.

“Oh.”

He smirked, “I’m surprised it’s still there, thought it got washed away.” He picked up his book and re-arranged the his stuff, “I could still smell the sex off of you.” Then it was followed by a chuckle, as he head towards the front door, about to exit.

“Call me when you want it to happen again, I’m Sebastian, by the way.” Were his last words before completely exiting the room, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.