Chapter Text
While Siebren could understand and unravel some of the many complex mysteries of the universe, there was just one particular mystery that eluded him: you.
You were one of many students in his class and in every practical sense, you should have blended into the crowd of students who come and go each semester. But you didn't. From the very first class you stuck out to him. He remembers that day clearly: you were of the few brave enough to sit in the front row, only you looked very uneasy. From the get-go, he could tell you were trying to push the boundaries of your comfort zone. It was admirable. He wasn’t aware that he was staring at you until you looked up from the table and met his gaze. Instinctually, he smiled at you politely, a smile which you returned for half a second before your head ducked back to the table as you fiddled with your notebook and pens. He could have sworn that your cheeks became significantly pinker and he didn't know why that made his heart flutter in the subtlest of ways. There wasn't much time to dwell on it as it was time for him to begin.
The first class went by uneventfully as most syllabus days do, and like after every class at such a prestigious university, students lined up to talk to him once he dismissed everyone. Based solely on your nervousness, he assumed that you wouldn't be one of those students- that you would pack up and leave as soon as you possibly could. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when he got to the very last student in line and found that it was none other than you. The first thing he noticed is that you were so… small. Siebren was quite used to being the taller counterpart in a standing conversation, but you! You barely made it past his stomach. He almost wanted to crouch down to your height to speak to you, but clearly that would have been incredibly unprofessional and rude. It also seemed that you were quite deliberately avoiding eye contact and your shy demeanor did not falter. He couldn't help but feel honored that you chose to speak to him, against all odds.
“Um, hi Dr. de Kuiper,” he noted how soft and sweet your voice sounded, “my name is (y/n) (l/n). I’m taking this class as part of my major requirement.”
He smiled down at you brightly, “Nice to meet you, (y/n). I’m happy to have you in my class this semester.”
Siebren held his hand out toward you to shake, same as he did for all the other students who introduced themselves. He watched as you timidly lifted your hand to meet his and he suppressed a gasp when he felt how his large hand engulfed your tiny one. You were so little and delicate. The way his heart pounded caught him off guard.
“So… I was, um, wondering…” you began after you briefly shook his hand, “What days and times do you hold your office hours?”
“Oh! It should say on the syllabus, but they’re Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1-4. However, I’m here late on most days. If you send me an email, we can set up an appointment for whenever we’re both available.”
“Right. Okay, thank you. Have a nice day, then,” with that, you very briefly looked up at him and flashed a smile before turning around and making your way to your next class.
From that moment, Siebren tried to suppress what he felt for you. He really did. But he couldn’t help himself; what started as a small infatuation turned into something more over time. It didn’t make it any easier that you were almost always in his office hours. The nature of the material made the class quite tough, and you were often seeking help with a problem set or an upcoming exam. At first you were definitely quite sheepish around him, but slowly you came out of your shell. You were kind and worked hard despite how much you struggled, and it was very difficult for him not to fall for you. Maybe you weren’t the best student in the class, but you sure put in a lot of effort and looked up to him like no one else did. He found himself trying to find excuses to keep you in his office as long as possible by asking about your day and offering help with other coursework.
When you first asked if you could stay past his normal hours to just sit with him and work in his office, he absolutely jumped on the opportunity.
“I’m really sorry, professor, but would you mind if I studied here with you? The library is too packed and my roommate is being too loud with their friends. And I really like the music you play…” The last part you partially mumbled, as if you were too shy to admit there was something in particular you liked about him. But he heard you loud and clear. It made his heart soar, and with that look on your face, how could he say no?
“Of course! You’re always welcome here, (y/n). I’ll be here for quite a few more hours, anyway.”
Just having you there with him while he worked proved to be more than pleasant. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had company quite like you. Being so close to someone he cared for deeply as he graded or conducted research was enough to put him at ease. He suspected it would be only a one-time thing, but to his surprise, it became a habit of yours, which he easily allowed. He held onto those moments he shared with you like they were precious.
Siebren knew he was treading dangerous waters. Every logical part of his brain screamed that pursuing you was a gross misuse of his position of authority over you. Guilt and disgust with himself weren’t uncommon feelings, after all, he was easily over twice your age, old enough to be your father . Someone with his merit in the science and intellectual world shouldn’t be concerning himself with a crush on a student of all people. And yet…
All he could really do was indulge himself in his desires when no one was around. He figured that perhaps if he let himself really get into fantasies of you during certain times, it would curb his persistent thoughts of you during other times. It… didn’t work. What actually happened was he became addicted to masturbating with your image in mind and your name in his throat. At night he would often dream of you, of having you, and in the morning an insistent hard-on strained uncomfortably against his briefs. A disgusting problem he had no choice but to take care of as he lets his mind wander to none other than you. He has probably imagined you in every position possible, each time with him filling up your small body as you desperately begged for your professor. Post-orgasm clarity often meant self-condemnation for allowing his imagination to run far too wild, but then the same thing would just happen all over again the next morning.
Perhaps Siebren went a little too far one day when you had forgotten about your jacket in his office one late night. He was packing up to go home after you had left about an hour prior when he noticed the article of clothing laying on the couch in his office. Oh God. It was definitely yours, it couldn’t have been anyone else’s. His first thought was worry that you had gotten cold without it, but if that was the case then you probably would have gone back to get it. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a quick email.
Hello (y/n),
I was getting ready to head home when I noticed you left your jacket in my office. Would you like me to stay here a bit longer so you can retrieve it? Or perhaps I can bring it to you? I don’t want you catching a cold.
All the best,
Dr. Siebren De Kuiper, Ph.D.
He continued collecting his things until his phone buzzed a few minutes later.
Good evening Professor De Kuiper,
I’m sorry about leaving that behind! Unfortunately, I can’t come to get it now, but it’s not necessary that you bring it to me. Would it be alright if I were to come by and get it tomorrow? I have another jacket, so no need to worry about me. Thank you!
Sincerely,
(Y/n) (l/n)
Siebren smiled at the phone screen. Even over email you sounded so cute.
Alright. You can come pick it up anytime after 8AM tomorrow. Have a good night.
Turning the doorknob of his office to leave, he glanced back at the jacket that he neatly folded on his desk. It really hit him that it was yours and that it probably… smelled like you. In a bout of lapsed judgement, he decided to pick it up and take it home with him without another thought.
Later, he had almost forgotten about it until he was lying in bed and a wave of tension overcame him, a tension he knew all too well and could only be solved with one thing. That’s when he remembered the jacket. He threw the sheets off of him and walked over to where he draped it over a chair.
Should he…?
Obviously, horny Siebren doesn’t seem to care much about the “consequences of his actions.” He picked it up and crawled back under the covers, bringing the fabric up to his nose. Immediately, his senses were overtaken by your scent and he was absolutely hooked. He closed his eyes and imagined you in his arms, kissing him desperately. Inhaling deeply, he wondered how you would sound moaning on top of him and how your small body would feel pressed against him. Just the mere thought of you in such a position while his senses were overwhelmed with your smell was enough to make his cock twitch. Before he knew it he was sniffing the garment desperately while his hand slipped under the elastic of his briefs.
Soon he was hopelessly fucking into his hand, hips jerking erratically as he chased his release. Covering his face with the jacket, he imagined it was you riding him, face contorted in pleasure as he keeps hitting that sweet spot inside of you. It didn’t take long before he cried out your name as the familiar pressure built up. A few more hard strokes and he was over the edge, orgasm heightened by your smell lingering on the fabric covering his face. It hit him so quickly that he didn’t even notice at first that he was getting cum on your jacket until it was too late.
Coming down from his high, Siebren started to panic and tear the garment off his face as he realized just what he had done. He can’t believe he just did that. He must have been on a whole new level of creepy to not only masturbate using your jacket, but to literally come on it. Goddammit. God fucking dammit.
When rational thought returned to him, he rinsed your jacket off in the sink then tossed it in his washing machine. He tried not to let the shame overtake him too much before he fell into an oddly peaceful sleep.
By afternoon the next day, you had come by for the usual study session and to collect your jacket. Noticing that it smelled of detergent, you raised an eyebrow and asked about it.
“Professor? Did you… wash it?”
“Oh yes, um,” Siebren tried his best not to look at you as the scene of his wrongdoing replayed in his mind, “there was some mud on it, so I thought I’d throw it in the wash.”
“Oh! How sweet of you,” you smiled brightly at him, which made him feel all the more guilty, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s really no problem,” he felt so bad about lying to you, but what else was he to do?