adam driver one shots ~

little one // professor solo (nsfw-ish)

Professor Solo x Stripper! Reader // nsfw-ish

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No. Fucking. Way.

When you were getting ready this morning for your first class of the year, you weren't thinking about who your professor was. You weren't expecting your professor to be a sexy motherfucker. You especially didn't expect it to be that sexy motherfucker.

As you walked through that door, you were immediately brought back to the first time you had laid eyes on him. You were walking on stage to the sound of drunk men cheering and whistling, a nightly occurrence. The skimpy schoolgirl outfit was snug around your body, hair in high pigtails and a lollipop in your mouth. This outfit was a little more uncomfortable than the other ones, but it didn't matter. You wouldn't be wearing it for long anyway. In the sea of predatory gazes, your own landed on one.

There he was. You could see it as clear as you were seeing him now. He had stared at you as the others had, but his eyes weren't glued to the revealing little number you had on. They were meeting your own. His stare was intense, as if he was ready to fucking devour you, his large hand firmly grasping his glass of amber colored whiskey. His other hand had his huge thigh in a grip that looked like it hurt. You had stared back at him, eyes wide as you licked and sucked on your lollipop more sloppily than before.

You were staring now, frozen where you stood. You couldn't tell what caused you to freeze up, fear or a dreadful excitement. You didn't know if you should walk to your seat or sprint out of that classroom as fast as your legs could carry you. You decided to do a mix of the two, briskly speeding your way to the back of the classroom with your eyes glued to the floor. You tried to keep your head down, thinking that if you just didn't look at him he would never know that you were in his class. As soon as he addressed the class, you shuddered, your mind drifting back to that night.

He had watched you for a little while, but two thirds of the way through your routine he stood up and walked off. You couldn't help but be a little disappointed, but you couldn't dwell on that for too long if you wanted to get enough to pay for rent this month. It was when you were walking towards your little dressing room when you heard the bartender call your pseudonym. You turned to see him with a little grin, motioning you over.

"There was a guy lookin for ya. Requested to see ya specifically. He's waitin' in the room back there." You nodded in acknowledgement and headed over after tugging on your little outfit again. The private rooms (for lap dances and the occasional private pole dance) always earned you quite a bit more money, but you really had to step your game up to earn it. You popped in a cherry lollipop and smoothed out your skirt before opening up the door.

It was him. You froze for a moment when that same intense gaze met yours behind those glasses. He leaned back on the little couch and ran his hand through that long, dark hair, eyes roaming across your body. You snapped out of your trance, skipping over to where he was seated and twirling one of your little pigtails with a cheeky little smile. You looked down at him and, for once, you weren't sure what to say. He made you feel a type of nervous you weren't used to. All he did was stare intently.

"So..." you trailed off, swaying a little back and forth. Fuck, you'd never been this pathetic. Why were you so stressed?

"That was quite the show back there, little one." His voice... it was deep. It made your knees feel a little wobbly and your insides feel all twisted up.

This same deep voice rang throughout the classroom right now as he took attendance, politely greeting each person as he went down the list. You heard your real name and let out a shy 'here', trying not to draw attention to yourself. He stopped for a second, glancing around the classroom.

"I'm sorry, where are you? Can you raise your hand?" He asked kindly, still looking for the owner of the meek little voice he just heard. You shyly raised your hand and looked up. His eyes met yours and, swear to god, he almost choked. He swallowed before nodding curtly, clearing his throat before he continued.

It was all flooding back now. The way you'd straddled him, continuing to slurp that cherry lolly in your mouth as you moved back and forth and took your hair out of those pigtails slowly. How his eyes were staring down at that sucker as he sensually moved it in and out of your mouth, wishing he could replace it with something better. How you let him put his hands on you, trailing up your bare thighs even though that's not usually how lap dances worked. How you allowed it to escalate. How you came on his pants just from rocking on his thick thighs and he called you his good girl.

You looked down, embarrassed at how you had to cross your legs to try and control the mess that was blooming in your panties as you recalled the events of that evening. You bit the inside of your cheek a little and looked up when he finished taking attendance, seeing that he was already staring at you. He adjusted his glasses and walked to stand behind his little podium before going over the syllabus. You had no idea what the fuck he was saying. Jesus Christ, you are not going to pass this class.

You didn't know how to go about this. Do you just put all of that behind you? Forget it ever happened? You had no idea how you'd do that. It wasn't the type of thing you could just... forget. But this was your Professor now.

Before you knew it, people were packing up and heading out the door. You didn't even notice the time flying by. He was still standing behind his podium, sweetly bidding people farewell and telling them he was excited to teach them this year. You tried to pack up quickly and file out with the rest of the class unnoticed, but your hands were too shaky to pack up quick enough. You tried to rush out while averting your gaze, aware that his eyes were on you and that you were the last student left in the classroom. His words stopped you from going any further.

"Not even a hello, little one? That's not very polite."

You turned to see him stood in front of the podium, the hardness in his pants obvious. You couldn't get a word out, your brain scattered.

"I guess I'll have to teach you some manners then, hm?"