Chris Evans Imagines

Wrong (Part 5)

A/N: Heya! Another part for Wrong. Not much to say about this, hope you like it!

Warning: some strong language

Getting to your next class with Dave right by your side, you took your usual seat at the front. After a long weekend of thinking about professor Evans and his apparently unhappy marriage, you couldn't wait and see him again.

You sat at the front of the class, bouncing your feet up and down on the floor while glancing back at the door every once in a while.

Dave scoffed beside you and your head snapped to him immediately. "What?" You asked, brows furrowing.

"Geez, keep it in your pants, would ya?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You keep looking back to see if professor Dreamy comes in or not. You look like you're about to jump his bones the second he walks in."

"Do you think I'm horny all the time? Geez, you make me sound like I'm a sex addict."

"Nah, I know you're not a sex addict," he chuckled and threw an arm around your shoulders. "But I wouldn't be surprised by the amount of dreams you've had of him."

You gasped and pushed him off of you. "You promised to let that go!"

"Yeah, well..."

"Liar!" You said while punching his chest lightly.

"Well, aren't we all liars?" He wondered while leaning back on his chair, looking as relaxed as ever. "'I don't have a crush on him. I never think about him fucking me on his dark and big wooden desk'," He said with a mocking high pitched tone.

"You are so obsessed with that desk. God, why don't you go ahead and fuck him instead."

"To be honest, wouldn't mind."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You're unbelievable..."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Well, I decided to take it as one anyway."

You rolled your eyes and glanced back at the door one last time before turning to look ahead. Just to prove Dave wrong, although it was no use, you didn't look back at all although you heard the door opening multiple times. It was harder than you expected. Whenever you heard the door creak, you wanted to turn around and see if it was your English professor.

"Good morning, everyone," you heard the familiar, warm voice of Professor Evans and a small smile appeared on your lips instantly. You still refused to look back but you felt Dave's eyes on you, he was expecting you to look at the professor.

As Professor Evans walked up to his desk and you finally saw him in the corner of your eye, you turned your head ever so slightly. You watched his every move before he finally set his things on his desk and stood up straight, looking at every student while he told the class what you'd be discussing that day.

As he finished, he took his thick brimmed glasses off, locking his gaze with yours. His gaze was somewhat intense, making you let out a small gasp. "Let's start," he said, clasping his hands together before turning his head away from you again.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and leaned back in your seat, bringing your hand in front of your mouth and hooked your forefinger between your teeth.

"Oh, my God..." Dave groaned from beside you.

You turned to him, annoyed. "What now?"

"I thought one of the best things about being a girl was being able to hide the fact that you're turned on," he said, starting to take notes about what Professor Evans was saying. "Dude, your lady boner has never been as visible as it is right now."

You huffed, starting to take notes as well.

"Seriously, why don't you just—"

"Dave, shut the fuck up," you gritted through your teeth, earning a stifled laugh from him.

***

"Miss Y/L/N, could I speak with you for a moment?"

You froze in place as you were packing up your things.

Dave shot you a questioning look, brow arching and a small smirk appearing on his lips. "What do you think it's about?" He asked quietly while packing his own backpack.

"I don't know." You shrugged before slinging the bag over your shoulder.

"Maybe he's finally gonna fuck you on his—"

Before Dave could finish his sentence, you hit his arm with your bag. He whined, rubbing the spot the bag had touched. He lifted his hands up in defense and started walking towards the door. "Have fun!" He called out. You would have flipped him off if he hadn't been facing away from you.

You took a deep breath before walking over to Professor Evans. He stood up, circling the desk and and sitting on it. He crossed his arms over his chest and suddenly you were reminded of one of the very first classes of his you had attended. The memories of the dream flew by you in a flash but you tried your hardest not to show it. Instead, you stopped walking a few feet away from him.

"You wanted to speak with me, professor?"

He nodded, running his hand over his beard. "I wanted to talk to you about your latest assignment..." He said, looking at you with his head slightly tilted.

Your brows furrowed. "What about it?"

"It's... How do I put it..." He muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Your writing is a bit disorganized. Almost... middle school level." He had a look on his face that told you he hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh.

"Sir, I wrote it in a day. I've had a lot on my mind... I can do better, I promise. But... Can I ask what exactly was wrong with it? I know it's not my best work but getting some advise wouldn't hurt."

The professor lifted his left wrist in front of him and glanced at his watch. He sighed, taking his calendar and flipping through the pages. He placed his glasses back over his eyes and looked at one of the pages, running his finger along the paper. "I'm pretty swamped today, I have no room between classes..." He hummed, tapping his finger on his chin. "I'm busy throughout next week as well... Could you come by later tonight?"

Your eyes widened and you gulped. "You mean... After everyone else has left?" You asked quietly, pulling on the sleeve of your sweater. "Just the two of us?"

He nodded, keeping his gaze on you. You were sure he could sense you were nervous but surprisingly he said nothing. "Is that okay with you?"

You nodded. "Yeah, sure," you said with an unsure tone in your voice.

"Great, come to the classroom at this time..." His words dragged on as he wrote down the time on a post-it note. He then gave it to you with a small smile. "I'll see you then. Goodbye."

You looked down at his hand, not seeing a wedding ring. You couldn't help but think if he had sadly gotten a divorce. Sadly.

You then glanced at the note, cradling it in your hands and letting your gaze wander over every letter he had written. Even his handwriting was beautiful. You placed it in your bag and turned to look at the professor. You sent him a small smile, surprisingly pulling it off since on the inside you were screaming.

"I'll see you. Bye."

You turned around, jogging to the door and standing outside of the classroom for a few seconds, thinking through what had just happened. Your professor who you were very attracted to had just asked you to meet him privately.

"Shit," you muttered, letting your head fall back against the wall you were leaning on before standing up straight and going over to your dorm room, dreading what was going to happen later that night.