A Passing Grade (Male Reader Insert)

Chapter 3- Fresh Faces

So I made a fake logo for the school. And shout out to anyone that wants to translate the latin in the comments ;)
(This logo is made by me on a website and has no affiliation with any existing schools and their logos)

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You had arrived at your school, your parents driving off in the distance the way you came. Your duffle bag and suitcase lay by your feet as you watch them drive off. No words or expressions were shared, not even a 'goodbye'.
Well, you picked up your things, struggling to carry them all as you duffle bag rubbed against your waist, and your suitcase nicked your ankles at every second step. You walked through the front gardens, looking at the insects flutter around the freshly trimmed rose bushes and perfectly square hedges that lined the pathway. You made it to the front office that you were inside a mere week ago, the building seeming to be much more daunting then how it appeared when you first saw it.

"Y/n!" A masculine voice shouted from behind the tinted doors, and as they opened automatically, you held your breath at the sight. It was Mr Hoffmann, your English teacher and current way of getting off. His has his shirt tucked in, tie tightened around his throat perfectly, allowing you to glimpse at his neck flexing at every breath and movement. His hair, slightly dishevelled, he was seemingly going for an unkept appearance. His stubble, the same length it was when you last saw him, either it grows incredibly slowly, or he trims it every couple of days, maybe every single day.

"I had been expecting you to arrive an hour earlier, but, at least you're here." He said with a slight smile. Your heart fluttered, he had been thinking about you, not in the way that you had hoped, but the consideration was appreciated.  He ran a hand through his messy hair, slightly combing it back with his fingers. He picked up your suitcase that you were holding onto, his large muscular hands slightly breezing past your own, you could feel the heat radiating off of them, and time seemed to only slow the more you looked at them, the veins moving underneath the skin as he grasped onto the handle, pulling it away from you.
He smiled gently as he walked in front of you, pulling your items along, not even bothering to look back to see if you were following, he knew you already were.

And what a sight it was, behind him. Every step his pants seemed to only get tighter. You could see the firm bounces of his ass, and the way his belt only showed off the feminine waist. The man before you seemed much different than who you saw last week, the passiveness was a bit of a let down, to say the least. You were excited for a loud dominant man that you could push into submission, having a man already willing to be your slave just wasn't as fun or appealing to you.

Eventually you had gotten into your dorm room, passing the canteen that you would be spending every meal-time in, along with the library, lounge room, and study hall that were also in the dormitory. Unlike the library in the school's main building, the dorm library were filled with more casual novels and storybooks, rather than academic books and syllabus papers that were in the main building.

As Mr. Hoffmann opened your dorm room door, you took notice of the mess around, the blankets that were on the floor, along with plastic knives and forks that were on the students' beds. Yours was untouched, the blankets had been a bit rippled, as if someone was laying there, but you choice not to think about that. Instead, your focus was brought back to the man in front of you. How his face was red and brows furrowed. He seemed angry, pissed off even at the state of your room. You took note about how similarly it looked like the man you saw a week ago, hands clenched and seemingly ready to explode as any minute. You were looking at his stance, how his legs were slightly split, shoulders back and chest puffed, giving him a more alluring and dominating position. You attention drawn back towards his face when he sighed.

"Apologies about the mess in this room, Y/n. I had told your dormmates earlier this morning to clean it before leaving for classes. Seems like they had forgotten." he spoke with his voice going deeper after every word, sending shivers down your spine at the way he spoke your name. There were a set of new clothes on the desk underneath your loft bed. Mr. Hoffmann noticed your gaze and followed it, speaking shortly after.
"Ah yes, that's your summer uniform, since the one you're wearing now is only worn during the winter time. The school had forgotten to offer you a set of this one, so you'll be getting changed now before going to classes.

You nodded and walked over to your desk, dropped your duffle bag beside the bottom of the ladder up to your bed, next to your desk as you reached for you new uniform. You begun peeling off your shirt and had begun to unzip your pants before turning your attention back towards your audience member.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me out of these, Mr Hoffmann?" You spoke with a sly smirk, seemingly teasing him for watching you undress in front of him. This seemed to have brought his attention back towards you as he realised what he was doing. Startled, he mumble an apology before saying he's wait outside for you and closing the bedroom door behind him, his face red and eyes wide, it was such a sight to behold. 
You laughed to yourself in the now empty space, enjoying his flustered appearance, and his quick leave once his noticed. You wondered how long he would have watched you if you didn't call on him. Maybe he would have stayed the entire time. 

After tucking in your shirt, and aligning your belt correctly and put it on, you walked towards the door, avoiding the suitcase the the teacher had left alone before leaving. You opened the door and saw him in the hallway, lecturing another student about how free periods should be spent in the school's library, and not in the dorm room. You walked up to him, startling him out of conversation before telling the other student to get into the library before he makes an even bigger fuss. 

You both walk down the stairs and towards your locker where your books and other items had been kept for the week, the entire time, Mr Hoffmann not once made eye contact with you, or spoke another word, seemingly deep in his own mind as he eventually walked you to your first class.