thoughts of you rule my world

Author's Notes: reader is byleth so warning for Teacher/Student
this was my first f3h fic ghhgfghsgdf

“Professor--” Before Lorenz could begin to correct himself and use your name, as your relationship had become more intimate than student and teacher weeks ago, a soft moan cuts him off.

A soft hum escapes you as you rub your cheek against his bulge, something that makes him sputter about how dangerous ("Think of the scandal us being together can cause!") and improper this is. You’re half-tempted to tell him he’s fine to leave your room and go about his day. As sleazy as it might sound, you don’t want to give him the chance to turn back. If he did that, he’d be pure for his future spouse, whoever she may be, that he was so desperate to find. When he invited you to tea this morning, you were sure he didn’t expect it to end with you dragging him to your room. As soon as the door closed, you were on your knees. You mouthed him through his undergarments, whispering about how nice he smelled in between soft sucks. The scent of floral soap or cologne that you found absolutely overbearing when you first met him in the Golden Deer classroom clung to his alabaster skin. What once almost repulsed you now made you feel drunk from just being near him.

“Lorenz,” you begin. As badly as you don’t want him to leave… you want him to know its okay to leave, or maybe it’s something selfish. Something like wanting to hear him beg for your touch and tell you that yes, he, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, needs this too. “Do you want this?”

Violet eyes stared deeply into yours for a thick, tense minute. You watched as his pupils dilated before his gaze flickered towards the door then back to your eyes. The graceful movement of his throat as he swallowed nervously stole your attention for a second.

“...Y-yes.”

That was all you needed.

Your hands, shaky with excitement, worked on yanking down his underwear and his trousers that were trapped around his mid-thighs. You had already had a feel for his size through his clothes, but, the actual sight of his cock caught you off-guard. Long and skinny. Still more than enough for you. It’d still be a struggle to swallow down if you really wanted to. Pale like the rest of him. What catches your eye is how the head of his pretty cock is hidden, the very tip of it visible to your heated gaze.

“Please stop staring, Professor,” he mumbles. His voice, normally clear and confident, is shaky and muffled. Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from his cock, to look up at him. His hand is covering his face. It’s faint, but, you can see hints of deep pink peeking from between the gaps of his long fingers.

A peal of light laughter escapes you before you apologize. You want him to feel good, for him to feel loved and adored. Making him feel embarrassed or self-conscious is the complete opposite of what you want.

A hand wraps around the base of his cock, his pelvis brushing against the side of your hand. It’s then you realize how smooth and almost flawless his seemingly hairless skin is. It’s enough for you to feel a little self-conscious of your battle-worn hands and the rest of your body, even just for a minute. However, the look in his eyes tells you otherwise. You’ve barely touched him, but, he’s still looking at you as if you’re the most sublime creature he had ever seen. Perhaps you’re just projecting, but, it makes you feel better.

Unable to take it anymore, you dive forward, trapping the side of his cock between your lips. He’s warm. He twitches as you move up to the head especially as you trace light squiggles and lines with the tip of your tongue the closer you get to the top. The sound of his breath hitching sends a jolt to your core. It’s enough for you to ignore how strongly he tastes of floral soap.

Finally, you reach the head. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wants to comment on how cute it looks. You’d never say that out loud, of course. A smile creeps across your lips as you stroke his shaft. His foreskin slightly pushes and pulls ever so slightly. Another hum escapes you before you press a kiss to the ridge.

Lorenz’ breath hitches once again. He curses under his shaky breath before whispering your name. His hand grips onto your desk. The sounds of a sweat-slicked palm squeaking against the hardwood echoing through the heavy air.

You kiss along the rim once again, shifting from side to side to reach what you could. Now, the tip of your tongue pokes between your lips and traces around his head, threatening to dip between the ring of skin. He trembles and gasps. His grip on the desk gets tighter. Gently, ever so gently, you dip your tongue between the space of his cock and foreskin.

His voice cracks a bit as he mutters your name again.

Lazily, you swirl your tongue around the head once. Twice. Three times. Groans and gasps continue to slip past his thin lips. The sound and feeling of him trying desperately to hold back, whether out of concern for you or gentlemanly pride, it doesn’t matter to you, makes you melt. Your tongue swirls around him once more before pulling your mouth away. You drool onto his dick. The speed of your strokes getting faster and longer to spread more of your spit across the sensitive skin. You don’t want a repeat of your first time where everything is dry and awkward and horrible--

The feeling of him bucking into your hand and the tip of his dick kissing your lips thankfully tears you from those memories.

“Please.”

You don’t have to be told twice. Once again, you’re kissing and licking his cock. Saliva drips from your lips and across his skin. There’s a voice in the back of your head snottily laughing about how unsightly and messy this already is, contrasting against his meticulously clean and well put together image. You lap at the tip of his dick, paying attention to the sensitive slit before diving back into his foreskin. You gently work it back, staring up at him with adoring eyes that he can’t meet. He looks down at you from time to time before staring up at the ceiling or at the door. It’s cute but you desperately want him to look at you.

You slip his cock into your mouth finally. Half of a strangled noise escapes him. The other half being muffled by him biting down on his lip. He’s still covering his fucking face. Still, you keep your eyes on him even as you drag your lips back and forth across his twitching dick. Your tongue traces lines and swirls along the underside of his dick, taking care to prod and poke at his foreskin every time your lips meet it. Your hand continues to stroke what can’t fit in your hungry mouth. Saliva drips down his shaft, pooling in your tight grip before dripping onto the floor below.

His long, elegant fingers grip onto your hair and he apologizes. Lorenz is mumbling so many apologies under his breath that it sounds like he’s speaking tongues. There’s another hand grabbing onto your hair now. He pushes into your mouth. His thrusts are small, gentle and curious. Whether it’s out of neediness or the sense that you’re more than fine with him going further, he thrusts into your mouth. His voice, no longer muffled, cracks once again.

Half of his dick is in your mouth, the head of his dick threatening to poke the back of your throat. You gag around him. He apologizes but does it again. Rinse and repeat. You try to relax your throat, wanting oh-so-desperately to make this the best for him. You continue to stare up at him adoringly even through hazy, watery eyes that obscure his beautiful appearance. Your hands drop from him and grip onto his slim, beautiful thighs instead.

His thrusts grow faster and deeper. There’s no sense of rhythm or elegance to this. He’s just feeling things out or he’s losing himself. He doesn’t even apologize anymore, or at least, the shaky moans and shuddering gasps that fall from his mouth and crash onto the ground don’t sound that way. His cock is in your throat now. Sometimes it’s for a second. Sometimes it’s for an eternity but even an eternity isn’t long enough in your spinning mind. Every time Lorenz lodges himself as far as he can go, and you know he’s as deep as possible thanks to his balls smacking against your chin, he wants to stay there.

You wonder what is going through his mind right now. Is he thinking about wanting to bury himself inside you? Whether it’s your mouth or twitching hole if he’s not appalled by the idea of going that far. For all his flirting with the girls at Academy, he reeked of a virgin that wanted to be pure and pristine for that special night. The thought of you stealing his virginity--or perhaps being the one on that special night-- makes you moan, only for it to be scrambled by his cock ravishing your throat. Heat flashes through you as he seemed to grow more desperate.

Your head is light. Whether it’s just from being used like this or because of the fact his cock is plugging up your airway, you don’t care. The sloshing of your spit is all you can hear. The faint smacks of his balls against your neck fading into the background along with the beautiful sounds of his voice that you desperately need more of. The taste of his pre mixes with that floral soap he uses.

He shouts something. Whether it’s your name or swears or something like “I’m coming”, you’re not sure and it frustrates you.

His grip tightens on your hair and pulls you towards him as his hips snap forward, impaling your face onto his cock. Your throat convulses around him as his cock twitches. Cum splashes against the back of your throat. The first spurt is the biggest. He pulls back only to push forward again. His cum clings to your throat as it slides downward, missing your tastebuds entirely. You’d whine in disappointment if you weren’t busy choking on his thick seed. Hot tears roll down your cheeks as he finally pulls back. His leaking cockhead rests on your tongue as the world slowly starts to fade back into existence. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears and his panting surrounds you. Saltiness lingers in your mouth as he pulls out.

“M-my apologies,” he says, letting go of you. Lazily, he strokes your hair and mumbles something else. His other hand smacks against your desk before gripping onto it again, desperately trying to stay upright. Your head is still spinning as you pull back to get a good look at him. His face is stained bright pink, contrasting prettily against the shade of aubergine that is his hair and his pale skin, and his eyes are half-lidded. Somehow, his hair is slightly mussed. He clears his throat before holding out a trembling hand for you to take so he can help you off your knees. He smiles sheepishly, still unable to look at you, before placing his other hand on top of yours. “Th-that was… well, I don’t… I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Good?”

He laughs softly. “Yes, but, I feel that it’s not enough…” Finally, he looks you in the eye, eyes sparkling faintly. “I’d… like to repay you, if you’d allow me.”

You couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough.