Harrison Osterfield And Co. Imagines

Pit stop H.O

prof!Haz

Warnings: Suggestive themes, little fluff

As a college professor, Harrison mostly spent his weekends grading papers and preparing lessons for the next week but never picking up his secret girlfriend from a frat party. It was quite late at night and honestly your were surprised that was still awake at that hour of the night.

Even though you were shit faced you were aware of you secret relationship with your professor and you didn't want anyone to catch the two of you together. So you told him to pick you up a few blocks away from the party. So far you managed to walk to the place Harrison was supposed to pick you up without falling face first on the pavement, a few minutes later he pulled up in his car, sporting his famous grey turtleneck which he must have just pulled over his head in a rush and forgot to take off his glasses. Your weakness.

"Baby!" You squealed and threw your hands around his broad shoulders as he chuckled at your drunken state.

"Come on let's go," he said, helping you get in the passenger seat and putting the seat belt across, "but we need to make a quick stop at the store to get you some Advil."

"Whatever you say daddy." You growled in his ear, sending a cold shiver down his spine; his eyes widen as he saw you smirking and biting your lower lip. Driving to the store was a huge task for Harrison with you blabbing on about something he couldn't understand because of your slurring. "Just wait here, I'll be back in two minutes okay?" He smiled as you giggled and nodded.

When Harrison came back, he saw you whimpering and crying, "No, no, what's wrong love?" His eyes softened.

"You don't love me." You sniffled as Harrison's heart broke at your voice.

"What do you mean? Of course I love you!" He cupped your cheeks, "I love you so so much."

"You haven't kissed me even once since you picked me up." You pouted. Without sparing a single second, he placed his warm lips on yours, tasting the alcohol you had earlier. It soon went from small pecks to a really heated make-out in the parking lot of the store. You were straddled on his lap, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hand trailed down from his chest to the waistband of his trousers and began to tug them when he stopped you, "Y/n, we can't. You're drunk." He said breathlessly, as you sat back in your seat with a disappointed look on your face.

"You're right, I'd like to remember what you do to me." You teased him leaving him speechless, but he did deliver the next day.