Alternative beginning for Criminology Harry part 2 (Patreon)

Hello! Here is a little piece of the beginning of Criminology Harry part 2 that was different than the soft, guilt filled cutie we got in the finished product! I'm sorry I only posted once last week, Thanksgiving and family were really wiled, but I'll have the first Christmas-y blurb posted on Wednesday!! Until then, enjoy :) 

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“You’re Y/N right?”

If Y/N’s honest, she’s never really spoken with anyone in her Criminology class before. Apart from Harry, but he’s the instructor so she doesn’t think he counts. So it’s safe to say when someone taps on her shoulder in the middle of class, she’s a little startled, and pretty confused, as she turns to her left to see a soft looking boy besides her. His hair is a soft blond, eyes a biting blue, glasses sat on the brim of his nose and cheeks that were a bit rosy. He was quite cute and if not for the impenetrable feelings that she had developed for Harry, he was definitely somebody she would’ve surely crushed on (but it appeared that Harry had left no room in her heart for any other love interests).

She nods, reaching for the travel mug sat on the corner of her desk, and the boy smiles warmly, “I hope this isn’t a bother, but you just seem like – like really good at this stuff.” He lowers his voice some so that he doesn’t interrupt Harry up at the front, “Do you have like a study group you go to? Or are you just naturally a genius?”

A smile worms on Y/N’s mouth as she shakes her head, “No, no, I just have a tutor.”

“Do you think you could send him in my direction? Or if not, would you be willing to try and teach me?” He looks a bit overwhelmed, brows furrowed in worry, “I’m sorry if this coming so suddenly, but I’m just really desperate. Need'a keep my grades up or my old man will pull me from school, and this is the one class I’m struggling with the most.”

Y/N opens her mouth to tell him about the study group offered, since she isn’t particularly sure if Harry would fancy her sending him a distraught student for one on ones like they do, but she doesn’t get the chance to.

No, she doesn’t get a chance to say anything at all, because her name is called from the front of the class. Which is another startling thing, to say the least, because Harry never calls her out in class – never calls out anyone in class, really, apart from when they’re being  super disruptive so when everybody turns in their seat to look back at her she feels like she’s under a microscope. And when she looks down to the front of the room, Harry is looking in particularly nettled, “Unless you want to share, Ms. Y/N and Mr. Thomas, then I suggest you let me finish yeah? Only ten minutes of class left, and we need to get through this so please give me your undivided attention.”

Her mouth opens and closes around the air – she really isn’t sure how to respond, if she’s honest. She’d never really been called out in front of a lecture hall before, and it makes her feel hot in the face with an additional glimmer of hurt that twinkles into her stomach. What was that about then? He never cared before when kids would have a brief discussion and had even told them at the beginning of the semester that he understood if someone was asking a quick question or two, but apparently that was a lie. Was he having a bad morning? He wasn’t one to let outside things sway his mood from his regular lecture attitude.

This stays with her for the remainder of the class; a dispirited, confused feeling, that she knows she’d be unable to act on until they were alone later. Even though this would be something the two of them could discuss without it seeming suspicious, considering there were about three kids in a line waiting to get a chance to speak with him by the end. She could certainly do without any bystanders when she confronts him on what that was about exactly, so she spares him one glance in which they make eye contact before dipping out of the classroom. Fingers already hovering over her keyboard to tell him to meet her later, but before she could she gets a message from him first.

Meet me in my office.

Y/N’s eyes go a bit wide, steps slowing as she was coming towards the doors to leave. She pivots on her heels, turning back in and heads towards the stairs – as tiresome as it was climbing three floors, the elevators in this building were always kind of shoddy and broke down often so she didn’t want to take her chances with them. Instead, she jogs herself up the marbled steps, trying not to trip over her own feet and looking the least suspicious she could. Meeting a professor in an office wasn’t anything weird but looking excited or even eager to do so was definitely something someone might take a second look at.

She thinks she might have to wait a moment outside the doors, since he had a small line of people prepared to talk to him, but the lights were already flickered on inside, the door slightly ajar. Y/N gives a perfunctory knock before just pushing at the heavy wood and walking in, seeing Harry sat in his chair. He motions for her to shut the door behind her and when she does, he utters a careful, “Lock it.” With a hesitant look back to him, he raises his brows and nods towards the knob, encouraging her to click it as he asked and she does. Withdrawing from the door and letting her bag slide off of her arm to the floor as she’s about to take a seat but he clears his throat, shaking his head, curling his finger towards himself in a direction to come around the desk.

The whole scene is quite erotic; more so when Harry scoots his chair back, beckons for her to stand in front of him, before taking her by the hips and setting her on the desk with a squeak from her. As much as she’s confused by what’s happened, Y/N is becoming more aroused by the second, her toes curling in her shoes as he takes his seat once again, rolling up his sleeves.

“You were naughty today, Puppy,” he tells her, leaning back into his seat and Y/N’s legs swing just a little as she tilts her head, trying not to focus on the tingles sprinkling through her – the last time he’d called her Puppy, he was fucking into her, “Talking during a very important lecture.”

Y/N’s brows furrow, “He was just asking me for some help,” she explains, “Said he was having trouble in the course, and was wondering why I was so good. Was ‘bout to tell him how great of a tutor I’ve got but then I was scolded in front of the class.” Though the last bit wasn’t quite true, she wanted to nudge at his guilt at least to some degree. Thought of all things he deserved that bit.

Harry rolls the chair a little closer, almost near enough to fit himself between her thighs, “As flattering as that is, Thomas doesn’t need any help. He’s got a ninety-five percent in the class, one of the highest in all the students, yet he’s been hopping from seat to seat in the past two weeks asking pretty girls like you for help tutoring.” He looks up to her from where he’s sat, “Wasn’t calling you out as much as I was calling him out, but never the less, my sweet girl was falling right into the ploy. Tell me, was it the dreamy blue eyes that did you in just a bit? Made you want to risk being caught talking in class for 'em?”

Two things have become clear to Y/N in this moment, one being that they were playing right now; just as Harry had been dominant and sturdy when he swatted her bum, fingered her open, then fucked into her, he took on the same tone and it made her insides shiver. The second thing being, that he was jealous…and that makes her want to giggle a bit. Harry – her terribly sweet and incredibly sought after instructor, that everyone wanted to be whisked away by – was jealous because she was talking to a cute boy in her class.

Upon this realization, Y/N has to bite down on a smile. It’s nice to see that the feeling is reciprocated – that maybe she wasn’t so batty that she’d called him drunk with her words saturated in jealousy and the thought of the other with someone else is just aggravatingly annoying. It’s why he has her sat before him, scooting closer so now that he was between her thighs which made it easier for him to slip his arms around her body, nosing his face at her tummy in a small break of character.

Or at least she thought it was a break, until she feels him nip at the fabric covering her stomach, drawing back with it in his teeth before slipping his hand underneath it, trailing his fingers against the skin and leaving goose pimples in his wake. She titters, tummy jumping at the feeling as Harry releases her shirt but continues petting at her, letting his other hand slip beneath too, “Gotta punish you Puppy,” he murmurs low and Y/N tries her hardest not to shiver, “Just not sure how I’m going to do it yet. G'na save it for later,” he rises, hands coming from her shirt and setting on either side of her, “But until then…” He hides his face into the crook of her neck, kissing at her throat before latching his mouth onto the patch he had selected.

Y/N hisses when he bites, her hand reaching up to grip at his bicep as he suckles and nips until the skin purples as the result of it. Running the broad of his tongue over the newly blossomed love bite then pecking another kiss over the spot. Even though he’s finished he stays tucked into her neck for a moment, breathing in slowly, then out in a gust before he finally withdraws.

“There,” he hums, “Now everyone can see you’ve got someone, yeah?” Y/N nods, speechless and her whole body tingling, feeling quite breathless above all things and she wants him to take care of it, just as he’d taken care of her when she was on his couch in his lap, “You’ve got a class to go to, Puppy,”