Arilevinsons - Tumblr Posts

ohmygod!! yes yes yes!!! this is amazing💞💞💞seriously i cannot wait to see how their relationship unfolds in future parts🥰thankyou for sharing!

𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

summary. | The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. 

pairings. | dark!professor!ari levinson x innocent!reader

warnings. | 18+ only, minors dni, non/dub-con, obsession, innocence kink, slight power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, professor/student relationship, male masturbation, oral (male and female receiving), orgasm (male and female), age gap (alluded to), dirty talk, gagging, pet names, more (?)

word count. | 2,700

author’s note. | ahhh! this is my first official post! i’ve been working on this on and off for the past few weeks, and depending on the success of this, maybe—just maybe—i’ll delve in further! also i’m sorry, ari was supposed to be darker but i’m such softie for him.

to reiterate. | do not interact, view, or share if you are a minor! this work contains explicit content and is prohibited for any individual under the age of 18. you are responsible for your media consumption. this blog will strictly block and cease engagement with any other blogs if they are found to be breaking these strict regulations.

Ari Levinson: He’s an irresistible, voracious, virile, broad-shouldered man whose presence is enough to awe-struck someone, leaving them yearning and ravenous. He’s mesmerising and alluring, and you’re nothing but water in his hands. He also just happens to be your professor.

The first time he set eyes on you, it's like he couldn't breathe. That very moment you walked into his lecture, he instantaneously developed this craving—this rapacious appetite with only one solution: you.

Shooting an innocent, heartening smile at your professor as you entered the lecture theatre made him feel as if he was just hit by a freight train. He became so disassociated that he didn’t think to return the smile, even with the dozens of other female—and male—students gushing about how hot he is, trying to subtly flirt with him.

I mean, how could they not? Especially with the sleeves of his blue linen shirt rolled up, covered in a labyrinth of veins and hair, his top three buttons undone, teasing his chest hair, and his virile, rugged appearance.

You couldn’t deny it; he’s fucking hot. He’s voraciously handsome, and he knows it. It’s an attribute for him to take advantage of: the capability to use his irresistible charm on anyone he desires. And when he set his eyes on you, a slightly naïve airhead, prancing around in clothing that leaves extremely little to the imagination, you made the perfect victim for him to try it on. But he loves it; it almost feels intentional to him, and it makes his cock so fucking hard.

Throughout the lecture, he remains incredibly observant of your every move. His gaze was fixated on you, like a predator feasting its eyes upon its prey, watching your every movement.

He watches how you manner yourself, a slightly upturned smile always plastered upon your face, your etiquette for those sitting either side of you, that glimmer and sparkle in your eyes, and how the cold from outside made your cheeks glow with a radiant pink hue—almost like you’re blushing.

It’s only when you walk past his desk to leave at the end of his lecture does he manage to absorb just how captivating you are that he affirms his initial thought: he wants you. He desperately wants you.

His admiration and adoration for you kept gradually showing throughout the semester. You thought he was just being sweet with you, and although he was, his intention was far more sinister on the inside than what you saw. You were driving him feral.

Numerous students had attempted to shoot their shot at him since the start of your course, despite the extremely strict regulations enforced by your university. To their avail, none of them had any luck. Most of them had already caught onto the concept that he’s interested in you; they even leave you with lingering gazes like he does, not understanding how you haven’t realised it.

It was when you were set your first assignment that you booked an office appointment with him, his heart fluttering and his grin growing wider at your email.

‘Hello, Professor Levinson! I have a few inquiries about our most recent assignment and was wondering if it would be convenient for me to visit your office as early as possible.'

Although his office hours are clearly plastered on his door, he arranges to see you at the end of the week, at the end of the day, when it’s dark outside and most have gone home. You don’t question it, though. But it works just in his favour.

And it just keeps growing: the lust towards your professor and his affection (that you’re still oblivious to except everyone else). The way he smiles at you during his explanations, the small nods and winks he gives you to reassure you that you know what he’s talking about, and the names he gives you every time you enter and leave. And even though most of the time you don’t have any ideas behind your glimmering eyes, you always nod back, not wanting to disappoint your professor.

Teaching or not teaching, you’re always imprinted on his mind. He’s either thinking about two things: your alluring beauty or lifting your small skirt up and bending you over his office desk, sliding your cute panties to the side, and ploughing his fat cock into your pretty fuckin' pussy—that's a lesson he wants to teach you.

Sometimes, his cock aches so fucking hard that he can’t even make it home without relieving himself in his office prior to his late-night routine, consisting of him jerking off thinking about you. You're just irresistible to him. You've made him feral.

You straighten your skirt and pat the top of your hair with the palms of your hands, and after some slight hesitation, you knock on his door. It doesn’t even take him a few seconds before the door swings open. God, you look fucking ravishing, his pupils dilating as much as they possibly can to intake as much of you as he can.

“Good evening, Professor Levinson,” you say, giving him one of your small signature smiles that he deeply cherishes. “Please, call me Ari,” he insists, as he places a hand on your lower back, closing the door and gesturing for you to take a seat.

His sleeves are rolled up as always, and the top buttons of his shirt are even further undone than usual, flaunting his hairy sternum that you’d love to rest your head on. If he looked like this during a lecture, you’re pretty sure none of the students—including yourself—would pay attention.

“You wanted to talk about the assignment, correct?” he asks, sitting down next to you as opposed to sitting at his desk. “That’s correct, Ari. I just wanted you to check over what I’ve written so far and clarify if I’m doing it right,” you ask, shooting him another small smile.

You don’t want to disappoint him—you can’t disappoint him. You can't afford to fail, either. He pretends to look over your work, but in reality, his cock is aching for release, and the only thought on his mind is about lifting you up, slamming you on his desk, and fucking your already dumb brains over his desk.

“Princess, you’ve truly impressed me,” he compliments, giving you a light smirk. Truthfully, after his brief daydream, he only actually read the first few lines, as his mind was more focused on what he thought was more important. “I can see you getting a high mark if you keep it up,” he winks, placing his hand inappropriately high up on your thigh.

His compliment makes your heart beat twice as fast.

“Thank you so much, Ari! I was scared that it wouldn’t sound good enough for you,” you say, relieved. He nods, pretending to absorb what you're saying to him, but his gaze is on your lips and face. He imagines how pretty you'd look with your lips wrapped around his cock, or how gorgeous you'd look with his cum all over your adorable face.

Your appointment with him goes by too fast for his liking, and he shoots you with another wink as you leave, making your knees weak. And as soon as his office door closes, he flips the lock, heading hastily to his chair and tugging his pants off, his red throbbing cock springing out of his pants.

It only takes him a few minutes to cum with a groan of your name, his seed staining his shirt and hairy chest.

“Oh, princess…”

Throughout the next few weeks, the nickname begins to stick. And although it’s risky in this environment, considering the risk of losing his job, you're worth it to him. He adores how your cheeks turn a hue pinker every time, and it puts a smug smile on his face when he sees the rest of his students’ seethe with jealousy, mumbling to each other about you.

In Ari’s favour, his demeanour and affection towards you are never brought up to the faculty. Nonetheless, he continues to make exemptions and excuses to see you outside of office hours, with each time showing more and more affection towards you. He manages to find out so much more about you than he should: your birthday, your address, and your social media, with your innocent pictures and selfies, which make his cock twitch.

You also handed in your assignment a few weeks ago, feeling confident with your submitted work, especially with Professor Levinson’s affirmations that your work was up to his standards and expectations. Regardless, you continued to show up to your lectures, paying attention to everything your professor had to say, and everything seemed to be going smoothly for once in your life.

It's only when you received an email from Professor Levinson for a ‘consultation about your recent assignment' that you began to worry. You couldn’t afford to fail—you couldn’t afford to disappoint him.

Sitting outside of his office anxiously, playing with the hem of your skirt, rehearsing what you could possibly say to him. But your time to think is cut short when his door opens, and your stomach drops. You begin to tremble in fear that you have actually disappointed him.

“Princess, come inside,” he smiles, but you’re too anxious to return one or even say, ‘hello’. You’re given slight reassurance with the pet name that he’s not totally lost faith in you, right?

You walk inside, your knees trembling as if they’re about to give way. He shuts the door, and despite your delirious state of mind, you could’ve sworn you heard the lock click.

He grabs your assignment off his desk, coming back around to stand in front of you. Leaning on the desk, he sees you fidgeting with your nails and tapping your feet on the hardwood floors. Using his index finger, he lifts your head up until you’re looking at his towering figure.

“I appreciate the amount of effort you’ve put into your assignment, princess. I really do. But really, it’s missing a lot of criteria and points, and it hasn’t gotten you the best grade,” he says in a low sympathetic tone. He removes his finger, and your head falls back down, tears on the brink of falling.

“Princess, hey. Don't cry, look at me,” he asks, crouching down to your eye level. “I’m not disappointed in you,” he claims, but it just feels like he is disappointed with you.

Cunningly, Ari hadn't told you the truth. You surprisingly got one of the highest grades in your group—maybe you weren’t such an airhead after all. But he wasn’t going to tell you that and ruin this opportunity.

His heart clenches at the sight of guilt and disappointment written across your face. He’s never typically been one to feel much sorrow or empathy towards anyone, but when it comes to you, his star student, he has to be somewhat lenient with you. Which is why he proposes an idea, his plan all along.

“Don't tell anyone, but you can do something to fix your grade,” he states, standing back up to his full height. Abruptly, though, you hear the clinking of brass that results in your head shooting up. He’s got a smug grin plastered on his face, and you can see his hand on his crotch in your peripheral.

He cups your face with one hand, using his other to undo his button and unzip his fly, freeing his confined cock from his boxers.

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, princess,” Ari says, knowing he’s got you wrapped around his finger. “Would you?”

Looking away, you swallow and shake your head, trying to fight off a blush as he grips the base of his thick cock.

“No, professor,” you mumble, squirming in your seat as you feel your wetness soak through your cotton panties at the sight of his throbbing cock inches away from your face, his clear secretion making your mouth water.

Replacing his hand at the base of his cock with yours, you lick your lips before finally latching on.  He groans loudly at your contact, his eyes fluttering shut as your tongue flicks over his oozing slit, and that’s when his taste hits your tongue. You’re elated with euphoria as his taste coats your tongue, acting like an aphrodisiac, igniting this flare inside you that craves for more and more.

“What a good fuckin’ girl," he groans, his eyes rolling back behind his eyelids. You were so lithe, so fragile, and so supple compared to him, so he goes easy on you as he drives his cock with a slight force further down your throat. You splutter and gag slightly, but do your best to please him, looking up at him with doe eyes.

His hands become laced in your hair, whispering praises and compliments as your lips make contact with the hair located at the base of his engorged cock. Eventually recoiling to take a breath, you continue to stimulate him with your hand.

His pupils are blown wide; the cerulean blue eyes you’re used to are nothing but non-existent.

Whimpering lowly, you latch your mouth back onto his cock. It’s only a moment later that he speaks again: “Be the princess I know you are, and swallow.”

Quickening your pace, you bob your head faster and faster as his groans become louder and louder. Thick, creamy ropes of cum shoot into your mouth and straight down your throat. Although you do your best to swallow his seed, you splutter around his cock, and it drips down your chin. 

It takes Ari a while to come back down from his high, his fists unclenching from your hair. His grin is somewhat sinister-looking, and you squeak as you're quickly lifted up off the ground and into his arm. As if your panties weren’t already soaked, you whine and whimper as he manhandles you, using one arm to swipe the contents on his desk to the side, laying you down on the mahogany wood.

“Let me return the favour,” he winks. You hesitate to stop him, his ravenous desire for you slightly scaring you. But you don't; you don’t want to disappoint him.

He flips up your skirt, yearning for a taste of your wetness. His mind is coursing with carnal lust as his eyes feast upon your drenched mound.

Abruptly, he yanks your panties down in one swift motion, stuffing them into his pocket in case he never gets this close to you again. But he knows he will, whether you let him or not. He doesn’t want you to find out what happens if you deny him, but he knows his princess wouldn’t disappoint him. Right?

You thrash, thresh, and twist in his grasp, growing impatient by the millisecond. He has a depraved smile on his face, looking at how compliant you’ve become with him.

He can’t fucking wait any longer. His mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue finally relieved at the taste of your wetness. The hair on his upper lip is so stimulating to your engorged clit that it makes you scream.

“Scream all you want, princess. Nobody can hear you,” he mumbles into your pussy.

Savouring his time between your thighs, he licks up your arousal like he’s parched. “Your princess pussy tastes like fuckin’ candy. Whose pussy is this?”

You whimper and whine, tears of pleasure creeping out of your eyes. His gaze darkens when you don't reply. "I said, 'Who's fuckin' pussy is this?'" he spits at you, causing you to flinch in fear. When you don't reply instantly again, he slaps your poor cunt.

“It’s y-yours, Professor Levinson! It's yours!” you whimper, and he grunts in response. "That's what I fuckin' thought. Don't make me believe you're just as dumb as everyone says you are."

With his tongue swirling around your entrance and then your clit, it’s when your legs begin to slowly tremble that he knows you’re close. And in your fear, you do what you think is right.

“M-may I please cum, Professor Levinson?” you ask hesitantly, desperateness laced in your voice. He didn’t even tell you to ask for his permission, and to him, you just get better and better. Your despair is relieved when you hear him say, “Cum for me, princess.”

Your hands grip his hair, and your legs wrap around his head as you cum on his tongue. He drinks your cream like a water-depraved animal, his beard stained and dripping with your wetness. Your cheeks are stained with tears—of happiness or of fear? You don't know.

Pulling away, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as you sit up.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, princess?”

author’s last note. | i actually intended for this to be so so so much darker and longer, but ultimately thought there are many ways to take this. part two, only if i think of the perfect narrative. i've proof read this 4 times but i guarantee there's still mistakes...

also, thank you to my two favourite and biggest inspirations: evansbby,  and hansensgirl! you’re both the reason i got into writing. much, much love! also, masterlist soon? idk.