#bill hazeldine
The boy was stupid. Without a doubt. You could see it in his eyes every morning when you gave out instructions. But if there was someone with a severe case of morosexual, that was you. Everything he lacked in brain cells, he had it in deliciousness. He plagued your waking hours, and infiltrated your dreams. Everytime he spoke a word you just wanted to sit on his mouth, give him something better to do with his tongue. Whenever you watched him do a few laps around camp, you wondered if his fairly big cock, bouncing inside his shorts, was leaving his brain deprived of oxygen. And boy, did you want to sit on that too!
You had to do something about it, before he left.
His last day, you called him in your office, he was shaking like a leaf, dreading what you were going to say. He had screwed up so many times by now… It made you want to pull down his pants and spank him.
“Hazeldine…” you started. “You are leaving tomorrow and there’s something I need you to take care of before that. And I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional. ”
His eyes were blank, as if he didn’t understand one word of what you just said. He probably didn’t. Why is that so fucking hot?? The hell is wrong with you??
You stood up and locked the door, leaning on the desk right in front of him. “Are you a virgin, Hazeldine?” His eyes went wide and he stammered. “That is a yes. Are you into girls?”
He stuttered again, but managed to get out a clear, “yes.”
You smiled. “Have you ever even touched a woman?” He stammered again, turning as red as a ripe tomato. “I take that as a no.”
You watched him for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an approach. It had to be a direct one, the guy clearly wasn’t going to get subtleties.
“Hazeldine, I think it’s time you get rid of that V-card.”
“What?!!?” he sputtered, and turned even more red, if that was possible.
“I can’t help it, I want you. You’re dumb and infuriating, but you make me so horny!” you said, and took his hand, leading it under your skirt and on to your bare pussy. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” you asked, getting his fingers between your wet folds. “That’s my arousal, Hazeldine. That’s how horny you make me.”
He looked at you with his eyes wide as plates. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his usually empty head was now full of the images he had seen in porn movies, of wet pussies and eager women. You kept moving his hand, teasing yourself with his long fingers. The bulge in his pants was not to be ignored. You cupped it over his clothes and stroked his shaft.
“Fuck!!” he whimpered.
“I want to fuck you, Hazeldine. Are you okay with that?”
He nodded vigorously.
“Good boy, sit down.”
You pulled his shorts to his knees and pushed him on the chair. His cock stood tall and proud, and looked about to burst. You knew he wasn’t going to last, so you took him in your mouth, just to get his first orgasm out of the way. Which happened really fast. Then, you kept sucking until he was hard enough again. Oh, youth! Didn’t take long either.
Legs on either side of the chair, you impaled yourself with his cock. Bouncing up and down, you teased your clit, trying to reach your orgasm as fast as you knew he was going to cum.
“I can’t-! I can’t!!” His head was thrown back and he was panting, moaning like a whore in heat. He had watched his fair amount of porn, but he seemed to forget the women were the ones screaming in those videos.
You were close too. As soon as his cum coated your walls, you came, mumbling and moaning curses that were muffled by his high pitched scream.
Not exactly satisfied, but at least with that out of the way, you stood up. “Okay, that was fun!” you said, getting wet wipes to clean yourself.
Hazeldine just groaned, still laying back on the chair, half soft cock still out. He looked even more brainless than usual. Maybe that night, his last night, it wouldn’t be bad to have a round 2.
She’s a Lady, and I am Just a Boy
Pairing: Bill Hazeldine x Professor!Reader
Summary: On the first day of taking ‘Fundamentals of Shakespeare’ at university, Bill Hazeldine finds himself developing a serious crush on you, his drama professor
Today was your first day as a professor of drama, and a member of faculty at the University College of London. That was the only reason you were here this early. For at least an hour, you rehearsed the monologue you’d chosen to perform for your students, pacing up and down the empty classroom. As a new member of faculty - it had been a mere few months since you graduated from drama school in Paris- you were assigned to teach Fundamentals of Shakespeare . It was one of the most popular courses in the drama department, yet the other drama professors mocked it. “None of them are serious - maybe one in one thousand,” one of them snickered. “They just want an easy grade. Don’t expect them to learn anything.”
It was a terrible way to look at it. Fair enough, there might be students looking for an easy grade. Not all of them might be aspiring actors, but you had a duty as an instructor. And if you could give your students an enriching experience that they would cherish, then it would all be worth it.
“Fundamentals of Shakespeare?” A tall boy with dark golden curls knocked on the edge of the doorway. He wore white t-shirt underneath a blue plaid unbuttoned shirt, paired with worn-out jeans.
“Yes, it is. You’re early.” You nodded.
“I’m also Bill Hazeldine.”
Without missing a beat, you took a piece of chalk and wrote the words 'Fundamentals of Shakespeare’ on the large blackboard. “Have a seat, Bill Hazeldine.” Bill promptly sat near the front right of the classroom, retrieved a blue spiral notebook and two pencils out of his backpack.
Soon enough, the rest of the students shuffled into the classroom, and you took your first steps towards the front of the classroom. Some of them looked as if they’d rolled straight out of bed, or perhaps this was their first class of the day. Others looked as if they’d just been assigned four assignments already, and were engaged in mental time-budgeting. When the clock struck twelve, you closed the classroom door with a soft slam and turned to the class.
“Good afternoon,” you introduced yourself with a crisp yet polite tone. “Welcome to Fundamentals for Shakespeare. I will be your professor for this term.” You asked the class if everyone was familiar with the name William Shakespeare. Nearly everyone raised their hands.
“Good,” you nodded again. “Shakespeare’s play hold great cultural significance. Nearly four-hundred years ago, William Shakespeare remains the central author of the English-speaking world, one of the most quoted poet and playwright - and even today, screenwriters and authors take inspiration from his works.”
Shakespeare truly is greater than an icon in the world of English literature, Bill thought to himself, rubbing his fingers along his pencil.
“In addition to performing scenes from his work, we will examine the way that Shakespeare was perceived in his time, how to analyze Shakespeare’s plays in both a page and a performance setting, and how to apply authorial intention and historical context to his plays.
On that note, the first play that we will be reading this term is Hamlet. Each and every one of you should find a way to access the play, I’m sure the library has plenty of copies. But for the sake of the class, could anyone give us the synopsis of the play?”
Bill was the only one who raised his hand. “Hamlet is a tragedy that centers upon the Prince of Denmark and his quest for revenge after his father’s death.”
“To be or not to be the teacher’s pet!” Another student rudely commented, loud enough to elicit a few giggles.
You, however, did not flinch once and nonverbally thanked Bill with a smile. “To be or not to be,” you began, quoting the monologue you’d rehearsed earlier, “that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d.”
Bill couldn’t help but reciprocate your smile with a wide grin. You handled that comment with such class, and now here you were, quoting Hamlet from memory. No doubt that professors ought to have knowledge about their respective fields, yet there was something magneticabout watching you perform before the class, commanding the room as if it were not a college classroom, but a stage at West End. You continued, still in character:
“To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,”
He remembered how much his girlfriend Jewel told him about the intensive training and talent needed to become an actress, but never before today had he seen such…it was indescribable how well you were immersed in the character of Hamlet, especially from a beautiful professor. Wait…he just called you beautiful, but it was true!
“But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.”
Bill clapped wildly, a stark contrast to some of the other half-interested students, when you took a bow at the end of the monologue.
“In three weeks, you will each perform a monologue like this before your peers,” you told the class. “Don’t worry about finding one, I assure you that you will all find a passage that best suits you. Though I would start thinking about your choice as soon as possible, in order to give yourself enough time to practice.”
“Professor?” Bill raised his hand. “Does our monologue need to be of a certain length?”
“No. There’s no length restriction though I trust you’re all familiar with the term monologue to know what qualifies. I will have sign-up sheets available starting next class.”
“Thank you.” Bill found his cheeks getting hot. What was the matter with him?!
“Any further questions.” You looked around the room. No response. “Alright then, I would like you all to have read Act I of Hamlet by next class.” You wrote the assignment on the chalkboard. “We will discuss the prominent themes and the characterization Shakespeare uses. Maybe if you’re all willing, we’ll get some of you to come to the front and re-enact a few scenes for the rest of us. Until then, class dismissed. I will see you all on Thursday.”
The students quickly left the classroom, chattering amongst themselves, except for Bill. He carefully put his notebook away and approached you.
“Forswear it.” he sputtered
“Yes?”
Bill gulped and took a deep breath. “Did I ever know Shakespeare til now? Forswear it, sight! For I never saw true acting til this class.”
Your lips formed a wide smile. “Romeo and Juliet, Act One. We’ll be covering that at some point in the term.”
“I loved your performance,” he admitted.
“Thank you, Bill.” You internally sighed a bit of relief, glad you didn’t make an absolute fool of yourself on your first day of teaching. “I look forward to seeing more of your acting abilities this term.”
“Of course, Professor…of course,” he trembled a bit and smiled again.
