#ok goodnight i havent slept yet and it's 9am and i have the flu <

[freshmanyearhistoryteacher]

hello i just found your blog and this is exactly what i was hoping for my blog omg i love it sm ,,,

can i possibly request a male english teacher with a breeding kink? i just want to get knocked up by an older man it hurts so bad ,,, student can be female or nb either is fine <33

UNFINISHED im sorry im so sick rn it hurts to exist. Also I've literally got such a back up of requests this user doesn't even have an account anymore 💀 💀  I hope they see it tho lmfao

Warning, contains:

mentions of how creepy the dynamic is

pet names

no sex surprisingly

Word count: 1, 530

It was an odd day. The weather hadn't been annoyingly warm nor bone chillingly cool. Classes seemed to fade past without the constant dragging of time usually accompanying them despite the final exams which crawled ever closer. She sat at the back of the class, though only a few chairs were still filled as the option of a "study break" had been offered to those already finished with assigned course work, with her hair tied back and pen scribbling across half filled paper. Three books balanced on the corner of her desk, the cover held down with a collection of pens which she rotated through as she changed from topic to topic and attempted a system of colour coding doomed to fail the second she left the class.

From the front of the room her teacher watched. He would have, if he'd been able to, spared more thought to the fact that it was very obvious that his eyes had not left her, but he was too transfixed to look away. It was the way short wisps of her hair blew in the breeze of the fan left on at the front of the class and the way she tapped her pen between questions. It was wrong. So awfully wrong. But he couldn't stop the itching that covered his skin and the flush that it bought to his cheeks. fuck, he thought, he should have worn looser pants today. But even the thought of having to pre-plan his outfits just for her made his skin itch more. He shifted his eyes to his desk, pretending to read an assessment by some lower grade student he couldn't remember the name of. He wanted… needed to touch her. It wasn't fair that she got to sit there, biting her perfect round lips, and he was forced to stay here. This was infuriating. He felt helpless, needy… out of control. He needed to make her his, needed to prove that he could. He scratched the stubble on his chin. He had often thought about how she felt about him, if she shared the same sentiment. The blushing glances and embarrassed brushes of hands as tests were handed out sure seemed to suggest she did. Even the way her friends stared at her every time he walked past in the hall made his heart stammer with pride. He glanced up from the desk and met her eyes, which widened and shot back down to the paper in front of her as she searched for where she had been last writing desperately. He smirked softly, glancing back down at his desk as well, only to feel her eyes once again return to him. Only after a torturous amount of time did the bell ring. Leaving enough time for him to desperately wonder what she had been thinking and how much of her work had been done in order to only seem busy whilst staring at him instead of truly caring for the classes. And exactly enough time for her to debate if he even cared or if her friends were correct in their assumption that the obsession was entirely one sided from her.

The room emptied yet she had not moved and he now waited standing near the door. The old wood slipped from his hands and clicked shut softly, causing her eyes to flicker up in the middle of her sentence but quickly move back down. Her heart was beating a million miles an hour, her skin flushed, and her mind racing. She had planned to stay, and now she was here, and she was so unsure of herself. It was fooling to think he would want her but… He hadn't suggested she leave, in fact he was just looking at her with his head tilted to the side. She watched as he ran a seemingly frustrated hand through his hair and her anxiety spiked. Would he kick her out? Would he allow her to stay but leave himself? Would he stay with her?… Would he let her talk to him? Hug him? Do much much more than just that? A shiver crept over her skin. He pressed a hand to the door and she was sure he was about to swing it back open and demand she go home, yet he only seemed to ensure that it had closed and take a step forwards. He was moving slowly, cautiously, as if she was an animal to be scared. "Nothing is wrong," she blurting in fear that he had thought her staying was only at the benefit of cramming more study in. he smiled softly and nodded. "I'm glad," he said, tone low and barely above a whisper. He seemed so gentle and it confused her. He hadn't been a necessarily mean teacher, though she had only had him for this year where senior students were granted more leniency than others, but it seemed odd and it was her turn to tilt her head. It seemed as though their expressions took turns, each filtering between flustered and poorly hiding it, and curious as to the intentions of the other.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a small voice as he reached her desk. Her pens were still spread across the desk and her books, pages a mess, and phone thrown to the side. But he didn't respond. He stopped when he stood directly beside her, only half a step from disappearing from her sight as she remained staring forwards. He kept his eyes fixed on the back wall covered in work and posters. "I've been curious," he began. "How have you…" he seemed to reconsider his question before continuing, "enjoyed this class so far?" She turned her head to him, seeing mainly the lower area of his shirt which tucked into his pants unevenly. She blushed despite the so far, however strange, still formal nature of their conversation and layers of clothes between her face and his skin. "it's been good, I guess," she said and then stumbled to correct. "I've really liked it, I meant." He chuckled slightly and nodded. He leant back on his heels, shifting his weight awkwardly before tilting his head to the roof. An exasperated laugh escaped his lips. "It is final year english, there is only so much I can teach you that you would not already have known." She forced a small laugh but concern washed over her face. "Are you ok?" she asked and he grunted, still staring at the ceiling. He hummed and turned towards her desk, her face nearly brushing with his stomach from how close he had managed to position himself. His hands came to rest on her desk and his feet stepped back and he leant down to her. "I'm great, really just.." he was talking through gritted teeth, "really great." He stood up again, remaining further away this time. "And you I imagine aregood, perfectly good. Had class today, decided to stay back now for some extra study I am no doubt interrupting." She lurched forward with her hand to interrupt in fear of her presence being diminished to a simple study session alone. "No!" He met her eyes. "No!" She blushed, "No." She swallowed the ball in her throat. "I didn't stay to study… at least not alone." He hummed again, hands in his pockets and weight shifting around anxiously. Yet, his face was nearly predatory in contrast to the unsure posture. "Then what?" He asked, pupils dilating. "I was hoping," she paused. What had she been hoping for? Did she really expect him to want her like that? He was her teacher and he knew better… she was nobody to him. "Just to see… my grade?" Even to her own ears she sounded unsure and his body seemed to flicker between smug amusement and uncertainty. "Ok," he said as he turned his head away. "I can show you if you really want but you've passed every assessment with flying colours I mean. You really aren't worried about your grades right?" She nodded her head yet they both knew she had nothing to be concerned with.

He crossed the classroom space in as few steps as possible, his head bursting with confusion. Why did she stay then? Did she actually care so much about her grade? Why was that cute to him? Did she not want him like that? Had he been the creep he had been so afraid to be? His hand connected with the cold case of his laptop and he returned just as fast to her desk. He found her grades within seconds and presented them to her on her desk, Clearing a few of the papers out of his way first. "You haven't dipped below a 70 all year I mean," he seemed confused and she blushed harder. His breath was hot on her ear from how close he had learnt in but he seemed entirely unaware of it. She could smell the caffeine on his breath and faded cologne on his neck. It made her dizzy in a way which made her body pulse with excitement. She wondered if he could smell her too?