#Professor!Au

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat. 

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other. 

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you. 

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story. 

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

#call of duty #cod 141 #141 x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price smut #soap smut #ghost smut #gaz smut #cod smut #soap cod #professor!au #student reader #musician reader #i tried to be poetic #price smut #cod mw #cod mw3 #cod

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Masterpiece

Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x subby!student!Wanda

Summary: Spending the weekend with her professor means Wanda will be worshipped

Word Count: 624

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, use of strap-on (R), photography during sex, ropes, tying up(W), Use of pet names, R is referred to as Daddy by W, some fluff sprinkled in there

Over the weekend Wanda found herself in your lovely home. All the photos that lined the walls of not just your own photos, but others including some from your parents collection that the rest of the world never saw.

Wanda was currently walking around in nothing, but your oversized shirt, panties, and thigh high stockings. 

You smiled at her, watching from your kitchen island as you worked away on your laptop never wanting to shut yourself away in your office while she was here.

“I'll never get tired of looking at all the photographs you have Y/N.” Wanda spoke, voice almost echoing off the walls in the quiet space.

“Come here baby.” You pushed your glasses to the top of your head as she walked over and you pulled her into your lap. “I'd love to add a few more to my walls of you pretty girl.” You smirked as her face grew hot and she tried to hide from you. “No, no, show me that pretty face that I fell for.” She stops hiding, 

“I'm not that pretty Y/N…I'm a photographer not a model…”

“You are the most beautiful model I've ever had the pleasure to work with.” You smiled, rubbing her thighs. “I want to tie you up with my prettiest ropes, use my cutest gag, and stuff you full with my strap as I take pictures of your beautiful body.” you tell her.

“D-Daddy…” she grinds against you even if her words deny you, her body tells you all you need to know.

“Okay that's it, break time from school work,” You pick her up, bringing her to your bedroom. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't think properly and take the most beautiful photos of that blissed out face that you make only for me.” You tell her as you set her down, going over to your toy closet, pulling out some of your favorites along with your Mamiya Leaf Credo camera. 

As you fucked her all tied up and full of one of your biggest straps you take your pictures. “So beautiful. My beautiful slut. You love when I take photo's of you like this, don't you?” You ask, watching her face the whole time.

“Yes Daddy! Yes! Please don't stop!” She begs.

“I'm not stopping anytime soon. Not until I'm satisfied with my photo's and then I'll let you cum so I can take photos of that beautiful face that you make.” She's a moaning, squirming mess beneath you. You know half if not more of these photos will be blurry, but that's fine. The ones that won't be are going to be masterpieces.

“You're my masterpiece, you know that?” You say, catching her off guard with how soft your voice is. 

“R-really?” She asks in disbelief.

“Yes baby. No one compares to your beauty. You are my masterpiece. The photos I take of you are the best in my collection. Nothing even comes close to them.” you tell her, setting your camera down, forgetting about it as you drive your cock into her fast and rough making her moan out, gripping and clawing at you. Every noise she makes threatens to send you over the edge.

“D-Daddy can I please cum? I know you put your camera down, but please can I? Daddy's cock is too good!” She moans out.

“Yes baby go on Daddy's going to come with you.” You tell her, not caring about the photo at this moment. You use the best camera you have, your eyes, to capture this moment and keep it with me forever.

#ley speaks #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #subby!wanda #professor!reader #professor!au #ley writes

[think0fmehigh]

sidelines (nothing to prove)

‘til you came into my life, gave me something to lose.

prof matty lore fic (first meeting, first time, the progression of their relationship, etc.) ♡

this will be my last fic for the foreseeable future, so i wanted to make sure it was something very special. i love you guys so much. thank you for everything.

professor!matty x female reader

your dubious decision to sleep with your professor leads you to the kind of love you’ve always dreamed of.

also thank you @noacfslut for all the help & encouragement (this fic actually took me tf out lmao) ilysm elle!!

warnings: 18+ (mdni), teacher/student relationship, problematic age gap, dom!matty, sub!reader, unprotected sex, tensionnn, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, corruption kink, masturbation, praise, dumbification, sir kink, (minimal) daddy kink, exhibitionism

wc: 10165

The unconventional relationship with your professor didn’t necessarily happen on purpose. Your college advisor insisted that you needed to take one more humanities class for the credits and you searched for one that you hoped would be an easy A. You took the plunge, signing up for a music theory class that next fall. There wasn’t an ounce of musical knowledge in your brain and you kind of regretted the decision a few weeks before summer ended. You powered through anyway. 

When you walked into the class that first day, you didn’t think that the man at the front of the room would eventually change your life. 

Matty sat there at his desk, typing away on his laptop as students flocked into the lecture hall. Most were students he’d never seen before, which he quite liked about teaching a beginner class. Always fresh faces. It made the job somewhat less dull. 

His attention went away from the screen as you entered the room, eyes flicking to yours when he saw your plaid skirt in his peripheral vision. You clutched onto the few books in your arms nervously, studying his strong features. Fuck, he was hot. 

He swallowed a lump in his throat, trying not to drag his gaze to the hem of your short skirt and the black nylon underneath. Never has he been this fascinated with a student, and he only just caught you in his line of sight. 

You didn’t really think much of his blank expression and gave him a sheepish grin, walking quickly over to an empty seat. To be honest, he looked rather annoyed by your presence. Perhaps he was hot, but maybe he was another asshole professor that’ll make you want to rip your hair out by the end of the semester. 

In reality, Professor Healy wasn’t bad by any sort. He just wasn’t the type of professor to talk and joke with students, knowing he was just another dull professor teaching a boring class. He knew his students had other classes far more important to them and usually expected to receive very half-assed work. What he really takes pride in anyway is his actual teaching. He could see that students were able to understand new concepts easily and many of them appreciated his abilities, or so they said on the professor evaluation at the end of the course. Every day of his job was a routine, an endless cycle. 

Until he had you in his class. You were different. 

You’d turn in all your work on time, you were punctual, never missed a lecture. The assignments weren’t done poorly either, had good insight on different topics and you clearly stayed on top of learning notes and key signatures. He’d been quietly observing you, which made him feel like a bit of a pervert but he couldn’t help it. The way you dressed like one of his wet dreams—tight fitting sweaters and skirts—the clear intelligence you displayed, the innocence radiating off of you like an aura. God, he was fucked. 

One day you asked him a question. It was the first time he held eye contact with you for more than a couple of seconds. As you approached his desk, you looked down at him with bright eyes, assignment clutched in your hands. You flashed a smile at him, at that point knowing he was a kind man. You weren’t the type to ask questions and usually figured things out yourself, but this stupid thing was on the exam and you had no idea how to do it. Professor Healy seemed nice enough to explain it to you without getting annoyed. 

You took a sharp breath in before you opened your mouth to speak. Up close, you could see the graying streaks in his hair and the deep brown of his irises. How his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks when he blinked, pearly whites smiling back at you. The detail of the wireframes that rested on his nose, the (also graying) strip of hair above his lips. He was gorgeous. 

“Um—hi, sorry to bother. I was just wondering if you could explain this one question to me. All of this is new to me, so I’m a little lost…” you said, cocking your head as you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek. 

He found you so endearing, letting out a little chuckle at your politeness. “Ah, that’s what m’here to help with. It’s not a bother.” He motioned for you to set down the paper on his desk. “Which one are you stuck on?” 

“This one.” Your manicured nail pointed to the troublesome question. “Notate the triad, given the root and the type.” 

Matty hummed, pushing his glasses up his nose. He wrote some chicken scratch on your paper to help as he explained the topic in detail. You listened thoroughly, finally understanding the question—but you also couldn’t help but focus on the way his lips moved. Or how he glanced up at you ever so slightly after every couple of sentences. 

“Does that make a bit more sense?” His hands were clammy as he wiped them on his trousers. He was beside himself; why was he so affected by you and only you? 

“Yes, it does, thank you so much, Professor.” You beamed at him, quite happy you could complete this assignment now, but also pleased by his reaction to you calling him by his own damn title. He stiffened a bit, trying to play it off with a small smile. 

“‘Course, glad you’ve got it now,” he mumbled, looking back over at his computer screen as you returned to your seat. He used every ounce of self-control to stop himself from staring at your backside. 

—

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself staring at Professor Healy more often than not. Even when he wasn’t lecturing, just sitting at his desk. You’d get distracted and watch him furrow his brows as he read something on his laptop or sipped Coca-Cola from a can, swiping his tongue over his lips after each gulp.  

You felt like a horny teenager getting all flustered just by looking at your teacher. He probably had a wife and kids at home yet you were sitting in his class with your thighs clenched together, mesmerized by his smooth accent. You’d chew on the tip of your pen, studying the way his sweater fit around his muscles and not the notes on the board. You didn’t give a flying fuck about music theory, but this man had you walking to his class with a giddy smile. 

Then there was the day he caught you staring at him. He was cleaning his glasses with his sweater—the hem of it raising just a bit. His eyes met yours suddenly, like he knew you were watching. You swore you saw some blue on his hip but you had quickly looked away out of embarrassment, fierce heat traveling up your neck and cheeks. His little chuckle as he put his glasses back on told you that he knew you were just drooling over him. It was obvious. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why were you always making a fool out of yourself? 

You managed to divert your eyes away from him for the entire duration of the class. The shade of blue etched into his skin flooded your mind in shallow waves. He dismissed class and you planned to swoop up your bag and exit the classroom as fast as possible, but of course, he called your name. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stopped in your tracks, all the other students eyeing you as they left. He was looking at you expectantly through the crowd, one eyebrow raised. “Just need to chat about the most recent exam.”

Oh, lovely. And on top of all that you bombed the most recent exam—what else would he have wanted to pull you aside for? 

You nodded hesitantly, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you walked towards him. The room was silent, all of the other students were already out of the lecture hall. “Did I really do that bad?” 

Your squeaky voice had him chuckling lightly. “No! No, not at all. I actually wanted to talk to you about how impressed I am with your work.” 

Your shoulders relaxed as relief washed over you. “Oh, um—“ He motioned to the stool next to the desk and you sat down shakily, setting your bag on the floor beside you as you tried to formulate words. “Uh, thank you.” 

“I’m sorry if I made you nervous. I just—just really wanted you to know that you’ve already become one of m’best students,” he said, looking down at a pile of the class’s work. “It sounds like I’m lying I know, but not a lot of students put much energy into this class.” 

You played with your thumbs in your lap, not used to that kind of recognition, especially not from the teacher who had caught you ogling at him half an hour prior. Maybe he didn’t notice like you thought he had? You appreciated his compliments anyway. 

He continued to ramble, not that you minded; his voice was music to your ears. “Now, I don’t have the examples of the work ‘cos it’s all in my office. Well, I guess you could come with me if you want. Not sure if you have the time.” He looked at you apologetically, not wanting to take up your time. You smiled at him. This was your last class of the day and you had all the time in the world—why not spend it with your hot professor?

Your choice to follow him to his office that day was well rewarded. Hearing him praise you for your work in a space that had his life splattered all over it was mind-boggling. There was no shortage of the smell of his cologne and aftershave either, but you were willingly engulfed in his scent. You noticed there were no framed pictures of kids or a wife, no ring on his left hand…it all just tempted you more. There wasn’t even a home to wreck. 

“Right, suppose I should show you the exam first, hm?” He said more to himself than you as he shuffled through the stack of files on his desk. You were seated on a chair in front of his desk, shifting in it as you watched his hands glide across the papers. He took one out of the stack. “Ah, here.” 

A big red A was written at the top. “Just brilliant work, love.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you looked him in the eye. No trace of insincerity in sight. A sense of pride and accomplishment ran through your body, he really meant his words. But with him calling you love without hesitation — it was hard to pay much attention to his comments about your exam. You wanted to pay attention to other things, have him praise you in ways very different from this. “I’m really glad I was able to impress you, Professor.” You let out a soft laugh, scanning over your own insights on each question. 

A warm smile spread across his face, the crinkles next to his eyes still noticeable under his glasses. “Keep up the great work, I mean everything m’saying.” He extended his arm to hand you your marked exam to keep. This was much earlier than any other student would’ve received their feedback. You allowed your hand to touch his for a second. Some kind of way for you to know he was real. “And please, you can just call me Matty, darlin’.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his sweetness. “Okay, thank you, Matty.” 

The conversation only lasted a few more minutes, closing off with him muttering something about having to get his car from the shop. You thanked him once more before parting ways, your exam clutched tightly in your hand.

You’d managed to get through your little meeting with Matty, but that evening your thoughts were in a frenzy. As you were finishing some of your homework, you got distracted looking through one of your folders. You found the assignment that you had asked Matty for help on.

You traced your finger over the messy words he’d written in jet-black ink, sighing to yourself. It was rare for you to be so entranced by a man, and of course this time he had to be your fucking professor. You roughly tossed the notebook aside, hiding your face in your hands and groaning. Yes, exactly! He’s your professor, stop thinking about him like this! Your brain screamed at you, laying out every possible path this situation could go down. You wanted to bash your head against a wall, this shouldn’t have stressed you out so much. 

But he was so attractive—tattoos peeking out of his ironed dress shirts every time he wore one, veiny hands sliding across the edges of his podium as he spoke during lectures. What would they feel like against your body? It was a question you were dying to know the answer to. 

A question you thought about when you dragged a hand down your body later that night, your flimsy t-shirt doing nothing to conceal your peaked nipples poking through. You leaned your head back against your pillows, praying your dorm mate would stay out just an hour longer. 

You sighed as you relaxed your tense body against your mattress, sliding your fingers under the waistband of your underwear.  Matty wasn’t innocent in any of this either and he certainly wasn’t great at hiding his devilish attraction to you either. The way his eyes lingered in places they shouldn't have, it was hard to miss. You knew his hands would’ve felt so much better against you, working you skillfully until you crumbled underneath him. It was torture that you didn’t have him here beside you.

Thoughts of his tongue, his fingers, and the newly discovered tattoo on his lower stomach all swirled in your mind. Filthy, sinful images spread behind your eyelids like wildfire, a dream you couldn’t wake up from. You dipped a finger into your pool of arousal, gasping at the sharp burst of pleasure as you swiped at your clit. Maybe you were even more affected by this man than you originally thought. You circled and rubbed and pinched at your bundle of nerves until you came in your underwear, not even bothering to fuck yourself with your fingers. They wouldn’t satisfy your desire for him, you hopelessly learned that a while ago. The orgasm would be enough to get you out of the headlock Professor Healy somehow had you in. At least for the rest of that night. 

As you cleaned up in the bathroom and got ready to take a shower, you felt disgusting. If he knew you were getting off to the thought of him he’d never look you in the eye again. You were gagging for a dick you weren’t supposed to be thinking about. 

Little did you know, Matty had his hand wrapped around his cock thinking of you—and just like you—nothing was enough to satisfy him. He needed to have you here with him. Even if it was wrong of him, even if you were a goddamn student of his, it seemed like he’d die if he couldn’t get his hands on your body. He wanted to take care of you already, make you his. 

—

After being tremendously distracted by Professor Healy’s tight-fitting shirt during today’s lecture, you’d forgotten your phone on your desk. Typical. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t immediately realize or anything, you did, and promptly waltzed back into the now empty lecture hall. Matty was leaning back in his chair behind the desk, eyes shut as he raked a hand through his dark curls. “Fuck,” he mumbled quietly, almost a moan. A pulse of heat ran through your core. His brows knit together in a line and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a little while longer, eyes exploring the shape of his outline for a moment. The fabric of his shirt strained against his muscles as he stretched, keeping you in a trance. 

But that was when you saw it—the large tent in his slacks. Your small intake of breath at the sight must’ve made him sense your presence, his eyes opening as he immediately sat up with rigid posture. He stealthily pulled his chair in all the way, shielding his hard-on. 

You pretended you weren’t gawking at him, like you’d just came in a second ago, eyes scanning the seats of the class. “Sorry, I left my phone at my desk.” Your voice was shaky, guilty. You realized how tense you’d gotten as you quickly walked over to your spot, seeing your phone resting right where you left it. Thank god. 

You retrieved the device, spinning around again to face him, only to find him already staring you down. He gave you a half smile, squinting his dark eyes at you. “Too distracted during class and forgot your phone, huh?” 

It was just a matter of time until you’d find yourself in this position with him, right? Luckily, you were ready for it. Your brows scrunched in faux confusion and your belly burned with shame from being caught swooning over your professor during class.  You decided to play dumb, honestly wanting him to just call you out already. “Sorry?” 

He shook his head, seemingly regretting conversing with you at all. He shifted in his chair, avoiding your gaze. “Ah, it’s nothing, love. Have a good rest of your day, alright?” He quickly started busing himself with some files on the desk, packing up his belongings so he could head back to his office. You didn’t buy it. 

You didn’t buy it because as much as you stared at him, he stared at you every chance he got. The short skirt you wore today was practically bait for the man, your suspicions were correct when you caught him staring at your ass as you walked to your desk this morning. “No, Matty, what do you mean?” Your voice was sickly sweet as you stepped closer to his desk, his eyes widening by the use of his first name. 

Matty blinked, stopping his movements to look at you up and down. He wet his lips with his tongue before speaking. The tension between you two was heavy and undeniable, laying over you like a thick blanket. “Darlin’, you don’t hide your staring very well.” 

Something went off then in your brain, some kind of siren—blaring horns that demanded you to talk back. You tapped your nails against the top of the desk, humming. “You don’t hide your staring well either, Professor.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, chocolatey eyes challenging you, daring you to be bratty with him. His face was expressionless despite the erection he sported right underneath the cherry wood. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s lecture. Work on being more productive in class, please.” His voice was gruff and full of authority. He’d never cave that fast. 

“I’ll be on my best behavior tomorrow, promise.” You shot him a smug smile, taking your lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh. You saw right through him. 

Matty tugged at his shirt collar, his skin overheated from the problem in his slacks. You spun around on your heels, turning towards the door and tossing your hair over your shoulder, not looking back. His stare burnt holes in your back as you dramatically swayed your hips. He let out a huff, his cock twitching in his pants when you finally left the room. Matty was well aware of the dangerous situation at hand. 

—

You sat in your usual spot, propping your chin on your palm as you tried your hardest to at least pay attention a little bit. Your eyes followed Matty’s every move, legs crossed under the desk—just waiting for him to finally look at you.

A cherry lollipop rested on your tongue, the stick poking out from between your plump lips. He’d pretended as if you didn’t exist when you walked in, but that only fueled the fire in you. You weren’t a fool. You’d seen that lustful glint in his eyes yesterday and there was no going back from that, no matter how aloof he decided he wanted to act today. 

Matty was going on and on about some famous composer, all while your tongue continued to swirl around the candy. He finally glanced over to where you were sitting, eyes widening before he shook his head. His resolve was weakening and so were his legs. 

His speech was affected too, watching him stutter out some incoherent apologies as he went into a coughing fit. “Sorry, got a bit of a scratchy throat today,” he uttered, sitting down in his chair and taking a sip of his plastic water bottle. His looks after that were fleeting and almost nonexistent—like staring at your lips wrapped around the lollipop was not even an option for him. Like he wasn’t going to fall for it.

No one seemed to care when he took that minute to compose himself, having really no choice but to believe what he was saying. But you continued your little scene with the lollipop until class ended, only biting into it during the last five minutes when students began to pack up. He had taught the rest of the lesson from his seat, not that there was much important information. 

Matty looked over at you like he knew that you stopped being a tease. You sat there with a triumphant smile, not moving to get up as the other students went out the door. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His voice echoed in the lecture hall. “What a naughty girl.” 

You squeezed your thighs together at his words, arousal gathering in your panties. So much desire for him was bottled up inside you. “Sorry, Professor.” 

He stood from the desk and rounded it, his lower body perched against the wood. His hard-on was clearly visible as he leaned back on his hands. “You see what you fucking do to me?” He adjusted himself in his pants, trying to relieve some of the built-up pressure. 

You bit your lip, eyes scanning down his body to admire your work. “I do. What are you gonna do about it? Gonna punish me?” 

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Why don’t we discuss your recent behavior in my office, young lady?”

You were embarrassingly quick to nod your head, grabbing your bag as he gathered his own things. Your heart was beating quickly against your chest thinking about all the things he could do to you. For a moment, you were outside your body. You felt like your head was spinning.

He was silent on the way to his office, walking in front of you yet holding the door for you when you reached the familiar room. You walked in, hearing the distinct sound of the door locking behind you.

You took a deep breath as you turned to face him, his face etched with pure lust for you. Your backpack made a thumping sound as you dropped it next to his desk—it was now or never. 

“Whatcha got planned for me?” you asked, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. He had a sour expression on his face as he took a few steps towards you, clearing his throat. 

“I think the real question is what do you want me to have planned, love?” His voice was barely above a whisper, one of his hands reaching up to caress your jaw. Your breath hitched, staring into his dark eyes as he searched yours for any signs of discomfort. His face softened after a few seconds and he rubbed his thumb across your cheek lightly. “Or if you want to go, we can pretend this never happened. Your call.”  

Your stomach turned in excitement and nervousness, all your feelings for your professor bubbling up and ready to spill right out of you. Without a second thought, you caught his lips in a searing kiss. He groaned softly, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

You pulled back enough to speak against his lips. “Want this, sir. Want you.” 

He let out an airy laugh, finding you just fucking adorable. The nagging tightness in his chest almost disappeared completely. “Is that right, sweetheart? Been wantin’ to be my good little girl? Had to be naughty to get my attention?” His grip on your jaw got a little tighter, but he countered the action by pressing a light kiss to your nose. 

His words went straight to your core, heat quickly spreading under your skin. You were on fire, set ablaze by his deep, raspy voice. A whine slipped from your mouth as you squeezed your thighs together. It only gave a little relief to your throbbing clit. 

He lifted his other hand to properly cradle your face, thumbs stroking soothingly across your cheekbones as he looked at you expectantly. You managed to choke out a garbled ‘yes’. “Oh, baby, must be so needy, hm?” He clicked his tongue, backing you up until the back of your knees hit his leather desk chair. He seemed to be playing with your head a bit, knowing just how affected you were by his antics now.

You fell back into the chair, your breath getting caught in your throat when he immediately got down on his knees in front of you. 

“Can I please make you feel good, darlin’?” 

You wordlessly nodded, cheeks burning. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sank your teeth into your lower lip, gasping when he lightly slapped your inner thigh. “I need your words, love.” His right hand inched up your leg, fingers barely slipping under the hem of your skirt before he stopped. “Come on—know you’re a smart girl.” 

“Yes, sir. Please, please make me cum,” you whimpered.  The rotten words that came out of your glossed lips made Matty feel almost feral, like he needed to dive into you to survive. He pressed a wet kiss to the top of your thigh before he flipped up your skirt, moaning at the sight of your panties. A bow was sewn onto the fabric near the waistband; you couldn’t have been any more innocent. 

“So so pretty.” He traced a teasing finger up your thigh, looking up at you over his glasses and studying your little reactions. “Got you all to myself now.”

“Matty,” you mewled as you intertwined your fingers with his. He softly hummed, bringing your hand up to his lips and leaving a kiss on each of your knuckles. 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.” His deep, dominant tone of voice sent shivers down your spine, heat licking back up the base of it when he dipped his head, planting light kisses on your sensitive skin. Your breath hitched in your throat as you squirmed in his chair. “Now, tell me, have any of these boys made you cum?” He spoke like he already knew the answer. 

You knew he was referring to the inexperienced assholes that were known as your male college peers—trying to get into your pants any chance they could. Fiends for pussy, but obviously not for women’s pleasure. You shook your head profusely, thinking of the orgasms you had to fake when your ex-boyfriend would shamelessly rutt into you without asking if you were feeling good.

“They don’t know what they’re fuckin’ doing, don’t know what they’re fuckin’ missing,” Matty mumbled, hooking his fingers under the elastic band of your panties. He looked up to you for a second confirmation and you couldn’t help but smile, nodding in response. The baby pink cotton slid down your legs as you lifted your hips to aid him, watching him stuff them in the pocket of his slacks. “Safekeeping.” 

His dirty words had you leaking onto the leather of his chair. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were. You huffed, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pulling him in closer to where you needed him most. There was no reason for his nose to not be buried in your cunt. “Please, sir. Make me yours.”

You swore you saw a golden blaze igniting in his eyes. His large hands dug into the meat of your thighs, holding them apart, but still keeping them swung over his shoulders. The angle had let him get a full view of your swollen cunt. He finally leaned down to lick a flat stripe up your slit, which earned him a broken moan from the back of your throat. 

“So sweet, love. Fuck’s sake,” he murmured into your cunt, the vibrations of his words only adding to your pleasure. His tongue flicked at your clit and you looked down to meet his eyes as he took the throbbing bud into his mouth.

You squealed as you tried to clamp your legs around his head but he was much stronger. He kept your legs still against his shoulders and the chair as he devoured your cunt. “Oh my fucking god.” You ran your fingers through his curls, eliciting a deep moan from your professor. “Please, please—fuck…”

His eyes were locked on yours as he pulled back, licking at his lips like he did after sipping his soda. The bottom of his face was covered in your slick and you knew you’d remember that sight forever. He swiped two fingers through your arousal, groaning. “I think this cunt is already mine, yeah? S’fucking soaked for me, angel.” 

He plunged his skilled, thick fingers into your entrance, the long-awaited stretch making your eyes roll back into your head. “There we go, pretty baby, just let me please you.” You let out a breathy moan, tugging on his hair as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. He dipped his head back down to continue licking at your clit, getting a rhythm going with his hand. 

Pleasure bloomed in your belly, all of your worries melting away on his tongue and fingers. “Matty, feels so good. G-Gonna cum, need to cum,” you cried, heat inching up your chest and neck as he fucked you even faster. His head moved side to side between your legs, eating you like a madman as he curled his fingers up in the most delicious way. A whine slipped past your lips as you rolled your head back against the headrest of the chair. You gazed down at him with half-moon eyes.

“Atta girl, sound so fuckin’ pretty. Want you to let go, let go on my fingers—been so good f’me.” His encouragement was murmured against your pussy, dark eyes staring back up at you. He had you tipping over the edge in no time. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, desperate to hold back your moans; you tasted blood from biting too hard. The intense pleasure felt like you’d fallen unconscious for a moment, head so floaty all you could do was smile down at him. He helped you ride out your orgasm, eyes trained on your heaving chest and raw lips. 

You tugged on his hair when you got to the point of being overstimulated and he pressed a wet kiss to your clit before pulling back, returning your soft smile. “Such a good girl. Already adore this pussy, baby.” His fingers spread your folds gently as he gazed down, admiring your puffy, red cunt. He spit, letting the trail of saliva drip onto your slit. A whimper escaped from your pouty lips.

“Sir, need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, clawing at his dress shirt as you tried to get him off his knees. “Want you to teach me how it’s supposed to be done, Professor.” 

Matty moaned before getting up off the floor, towering over you as he reached his full height. He rested his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping you in as he leaned down; your noses almost touching. He let out a low hum. “Would call you greedy if I didn’t want to fuck you so bad,” he whispers. 

He raised one hand to cup your jaw, a playful glint in his eyes. “What would your classmates think if they saw me giving you private lessons, sweetheart? Such a smart little girl acting all dumb for her professor…”

You didn’t even feel shame anymore, the ache between your thighs barely satiated by the first orgasm. You pecked his lips before letting out a breathy moan, “P-Please, fuck me dumb, sir. Have me any way you want me.”  

The groan Matty let out was far too loud for the setting and he immediately cringed at the sound. “You’re gonna fuckin’ end me, little one.” 

You let out a giggle, reaching out to play with the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t deny all his pet names made you even more slick for him, hoping so badly you could be everything Matty wanted. The outline of his hard cock could be seen clearly through his slacks, you already knew he was big.

“Do you even deserve my cock after the stunt you pulled, baby?” he cooed, petting your hair softly. Matty’s knees almost gave out as he watched you sink onto the floor before him. One of your hands traveled teasingly up his thigh, batting your lashes up at him. 

His breathing turned uneven as you dug your nails into his leg, leaning up to press a kiss to his painful-looking bulge—puppy dog eyes boring into his. “Been good for you, sir. Need you inside me so bad. Want your cock stretchin’ me out.” 

Matty let out a low growl before bending down to lift you up by your armpits, plopping you right on top of his desk. He kissed you harshly, hands smoothing over your blouse and unbuttoning the garment. He pulled back to admire your cleavage on display for him, your pink bra pushed them up in just the right way. You bit your tongue trying not to smirk, knowing that you chose this set specifically for him. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he moaned, groping your tits through your bra. His thumbs grazed over your lace-covered nipples, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you. “Gonna fuck you so good, angel.” 

You felt dizzy, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fumbled with his belt buckle. Your cunt was dripping onto the wood of his desk already. 

He pulled out his thick cock from its confines, hissing as he pumped himself a few times. Your mouth salivated looking at the sight, clenching around nothing. 

He slotted his lips against yours in another frenzied kiss; you gasped as you felt him slowly drag the tip of his cock up your folds and to your clit, then back down to your entrance. You let out a wanton moan, gazing at him with pleading eyes. His tip nudged your sopping hole, so close to splitting you in two. 

“Such a sweet little girl, so eager.” He brushed his nose against yours, gnawing on his lip in an attempt to shield his permanent smile. 

You caressed his cheek, pushing his wired frames up his nose for him. “Wanna be a good student for you, Professor Healy,” you said with an exasperated whine, repeating your wish from earlier. Snaking your hand behind him to rest it on the nape of his neck, you noticed his eyes clouding over with lust. 

Your words coaxed a deep rasp from him, his hips immediately snapping forward into yours. He filled you up completely, bottoming out. You whined pathetically, never having this big of an intrusion inside you. Matty buried his face into your neck, littering soft kisses as he shushed you. “My best girl, barely can fit my cock in this tight little cunt. Gonna have to stretch you out more, hm?” 

Your entire body started to ripple with pleasure, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to mirror the position of your legs. You clung to him tightly, needing to ground yourself before you nodded, signaling him to start moving.

Matty kissed both of your burning cheeks before pulling out and then plowing back into your dripping cunt. You were a moaning mess, nails digging into the fabric of his sweater. You clenched around him greedily and he groaned into the crook of your neck. 

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me,” he murmured, sucking and biting on your skin, roughly thrusting in and out of you. “Taking my cock so well, fuckin’ natural at this, yeah?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you arched your back into him, your chest flush against his. He gawked at the swell of your tits, stopping himself from ripping your bra off; he’d get plenty of time to tend to them later. “Fuck, Matty,” you cried, your velvet walls fluttering around him. He moaned softly, connecting your lips as you brought your hand up, your fingers finding their home in his sweaty curls. 

His pace was steady and deep, both of you quickly chasing your release while still getting to feel every ridge of his fat cock. He lifted a hand up, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. His touch was delicate, it made you feel less filthy. “Stay quiet and I’ll let you cum again.” 

You wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the tip. The finger in your mouth sufficiently muffled your whimpers, but it wasn’t good enough for him. He pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop, replacing it with his index and middle finger. “Must be getting close, yeah, baby?”

About to succumb to the intense pleasure that coursed through you, you sobbed as you clenched around his cock harder than ever before. “Mhm, pleath, can I cum?” you pleaded around his digits.

“Go on, my good girl, cum. Cum for me.” He dipped his head down, his breath fanning over your ear as he allowed you to come undone. His hand that wasn’t in your mouth held your body flush to his. 

Your second orgasm ripped through you as you dug your nails into Matty’s biceps, crescent-shaped indents sure to appear on his skin. He slid his fingers out of your mouth to stroke your cheek, praising you as you fell apart before him. Strings of curse words left your lips as you shut your eyes, seeing white behind your lids. His thrusts got sloppier as he helped you ride out your high and chased his own. You pulled him down with a hand on the back of his neck, smashing his lips against yours. “Want you to fill me up, m’on the pill.” 

He whined into your mouth before slowing down his thrusts completely, filling your cunt with his warm release—just like you’d requested. 

“Was that a sufficient punishment for my behavior?” You cocked your head in faux curiosity, mind fuzzy. 

“Nah, think I need to teach you some more lessons, darling,” he replied breathlessly, kissing you gently, still trying to recover from his intense orgasm. 

You hummed in response, kissing up his jaw. His stubble scratched at the skin of your lips. “I think so too.” 

“Let me take you on a date this weekend,” he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and planting a kiss on your forehead. “Or I can cook for you at mine if you’d like.” 

The idea of being at his place was too tempting to pass up. You giggled, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “Oh? You’re a chef, too?” 

“Hardly. But I’m pretty sure I can impress the sweet girl who’s been living off of instant ramen packs for months.” 

“I expect only the best from you, Professor.” 

—

Professor Healy never has anyone attend his office hours. 

Which is why you’re kneeling underneath his desk, drooling all over his hard cock as his jaw drops in pleasure. 

“Fuckin’ made for this, shit…” he moans, caressing the top of your head as you flick your tongue against the underside of his dick. “Good girl, so good for me.” 

A ring of your lipstick sits at the base of his cock. You giggle, pressing a kiss to his tip to stain that too. “Mine?”

“Yours. Fuck, darling.” His eyes roll back into his head at the sight of you claiming him—marking him with that lip color he knows so well. 

Matty gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, eyes dragging back down to look at you lovingly. You’re looking up at him through your eyelashes, mesmerized by his little noises and the sight of his brows furrowed in pleasure. 

He nearly jumps out of his seat when a sudden knock on his office door rings through his ears. You freeze, staring up at him in shock and he curses, ushering you further under the desk so you’re hidden from sight. Great, you’re going to get caught sucking your professor’s cock. 

“Uh—come on in!” Matty shouts, chest heaving as a student makes her way in. You can only hear the footsteps on the floorboards as she walks over to his desk. You hold your breath, anticipating the worst.

“Hey, sorry, just wanted you to look over my essay for me. I’m not sure if I followed the guidelines correctly.” The girl’s voice is pitchy, making you roll your eyes at the familiarity of it. She’s a chatty one in class.  

Matty looks visibly disheveled, but the girl can’t really tell (too lost in her own thoughts) as she hands over her paper to him. His hand shakes as he blindly reaches for his glasses on the desk, accidentally knocking the frames to the floor. 

The sudden clatter startles you, but once you spot the culprit of the noise you smirk to yourself. He huffs, bending over to retrieve them, but his naughty little girl crawls to them first, handing them to him with a bitten lip. 

His eyes shoot daggers at you, warning you not to try anything as he takes the glasses from your hand, sitting up again in the chair. The girl has her phone out now, completely oblivious to the activities occurring a few feet away from her. 

Matty begins to scan over the essay in front of him, acting like his cock isn’t rock-hard in front of your face at the moment. Knowing that the girl isn’t really a threat, she couldn’t care less about anything, you cheekily flick your tongue across his slit. 

He involuntarily kicks his leg, gently poking your knee with the tip of his dress shoe. A shit-eating grin spreads across your face as you grip the base of him. 

His cock twitches in your hand and he lets out a cough to cover up a groan. You let a trail of your saliva fall onto his length before beginning to stroke him slowly. It sends a rush of heat to your cunt, belly pooling with desire from the riskiness of the situation—you’re pushing all the limits. 

Matty’s halfway through the stupid fucking essay, barely holding himself together. He reaches his hand down, aggressively fisting your hair. You use all your strength to stifle a yelp, your scalp stinging as he tightens his grip even more. 

The dominance still radiating from him even in a moment like this has your eyes glazing over as you look up at his concentrated face. It’s so easy to be obedient for him, making you eager to please. 

You stop yourself from teasing him any more, realizing it would take longer for him to get this girl out the door. He loosens his fist a bit, offering your head some relief as he finishes up the essay. 

Perhaps a little too quickly, he hands the paper back to the girl. “I think you’ve done exactly what I’ve asked for this assignment. Great job.” 

The girl looks up from her phone, taking the paper from him. “Oh, good! Thank you so much,” she says sweetly, giving him a warm smile. 

“Of course.” Matty puts on his most polite face, watching her turn around and walk back to the door. Every second feels like an eternity. “Have a nice night, Elle.” 

She turns the knob, looking back over her shoulder. “Thanks, you too.” 

And then she was gone. 

Matty lets out a relieved sigh, falling back against his chair and releasing your hair in the process. He spreads his legs more so he can peer down at you. “What am I gonna do with you, you little slut?” 

“Dunno, sir.” Your lips curve up into a smirk, shifting on your knees to get rid of some of the pressure between your thighs. He isn’t going to play nice — you couldn’t be happier. 

He leans down and grips your jaw firmly, eyes locked on yours. His thumb runs over your pouty bottom lip. “Think I’m gonna fuck this pretty little face…remind you how cockdrunk you really are…” He laughs softly. “Maybe you’ll behave better if I fuck with your brain a bit, yeah?”

—

The music theory lessons with him ended (the class did really end up being an easy A), and your fondness for the older man only grew. No more fooling around on school grounds either now, because he asked you to be his girlfriend the minute the semester finished. He wants you in his space all the time. 

You started frequently visiting his apartment and staying overnight at that point. It was amusing to you that he stopped his whole panty stealing habit now that he had you here often—which you admit was hot every time he did take them—but damn you liked a couple of those pairs.

You find one of them in his room one Saturday afternoon, dramatically gasping and holding them up for him to see. He’s lying on the bed with his laptop on his thighs, all cozy under the duvet. He looks over at you and snorts when he sees the lace dangling from your fingers. 

“You’ve just got these fucking lying around?” You try to sound firm, but you’re holding back a laugh. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, now you can keep ‘em here, baby. I’ll wash them for when you stay over next.” His stupid grin makes you playfully roll your eyes. 

“You’re a freak,” you throw the pair of panties in his face, making him let out a belly laugh, quickly pulling them away from his eyes. You can’t help but crawl up next to him on the bed, grinning as wide as he is. 

“I thought you liked that.” Matty chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you nuzzle into his side. He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, making you melt into him even more. 

“You know I do, but the evidence of it when I’m not horny is kinda funny,” you retort, tilting your chin to gaze up at him. The lamp next to the bed shines a warm yellow light on his face. He chucks the panties into the laundry basket by his dresser. You love spending time with him during the day at his place, just lying around lazy and loved up by your boyfriend. 

The domestic nights with him feel natural too. Comforting, even. He often sits in on your nightly routine. 

“And what’s this?” Matty picks up one of the several labeled bottles, analyzing it closely. “Serum?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, “‘S'just another skincare item, babe.”

He sets it back down on the counter, smiling at you. “Cool.” 

He memorizes the brand, planning to go out and buy fresh bottles of your skincare items so you have extras at his place.

He told you to just bring most of your stuff to his place, not wanting you to live off the dining hall food and shower with shoes on — for at least a few nights a week. Sometimes you think it's nice to hang out in your dorm with your roommate or just be alone when she’s out. You’d also just feel bad if you leeched off him everyday. You always have the self-imposed thought of being a burden to him, even though you're anything but. 

If Matty had it his way, you’d be living with him. He would take care of you, help you with anything you needed. He’s been alone in his flat for about four years now, and his ex-wife had left him in a state of constant pessimism. He really fits into the mold of a grumpy college professor. You, though, bring out a part of him he’s not seen in a while. The gentle, loving part. He wants to kiss your face, listen to you talk about anything, and hold you for as long as he can.

He understands you’re young though, want to do things your way. I mean that’s what he fucking gets for dating his student, but what else was he supposed to do when you make him feel like this? He had to have you, keep you happy, cherish you until you’ve had enough of him. 

“You’ve got to teach a lecture in the morning, Matty. Don’t let me keep you up, please,” you sigh, knowing he’s going to say something about how he’s taught lectures in worse states. 

“I’ve got to brush my teeth, so I'll wait until you're done. And I like watching you do your little routine.” He laughs, shifting on the closed toilet seat he’s perched himself on. Truthfully, he’d destroy his life for you if you asked. You’re the only thing that keeps him smiling anyway. 

—

Even after a year has passed, Matty still owns your heart. Perhaps even more than he did before. The dorm life is long out of your reach now, the partying slowly turning into you sitting on his flat and awaiting his presence after he gets off of work. You still have another year of school, but it’s easier now that you’ve accidentally fallen into the caring arms of your boyfriend. Plus, the rowdy college scene got boring pretty quickly. You left it with no hesitation. 

He’s got some troubles too, and you’ll help him when he’s having a hard time. In your eyes, nothing you do for him is as good as the things he does for you—even though Matty would be happy to just get a kiss from you and nothing else. 

You know he needs you more than ever tonight. “Hey, Matty, it's alright,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. He immediately buries his face into your neck, sighing softly. Your fingers card through his hair, trying to relax him. “M’here for you.”

He’s been off since he got home from a lecture. The the last straw was him accidentally dropping a mug on the floor, shattering it. You helped him clean it up as he was far too overwhelmed to be safely cleaning up shards of glass by himself. He muttered apologies over and over again for being a clutz—your heart aches for the man you love. It’s his own china, it’s not like he’s broken something of yours, but he’s still sorry he even needed your help to dispose of it. 

You squeeze him as hard as you can, glass cleaned properly cleaned up now as you stand together in the kitchen, hoping you can make him feel as safe and supported as you feel. He gently sways with you side to side for a moment, just taking in the scent of your perfume. “Come with me, okay?” you whisper.

You lead him to his bed, hand intertwined with his. You kiss his forehead and take off his glasses when he sits down on the edge of the mattress. He watches you intently as you start to unbutton his shirt, knowing this isn’t sexual at all. All the tattoos you’ve traced hundreds of times have seeped into the crevices of your brain by now. Every touch is full of care and devotion. You throw his shirt into the laundry basket then position yourself on your knees behind him, beginning to massage his knotted shoulders. 

He lets out a relieved moan, his eyes fluttering shut as you carefully work out the tension in his neck as well, planting kisses on his skin occasionally as you go.

“I love you,” he breathes, craning his neck to look back at you. You peck his lips, smiling. 

“I love you too,” you giggle, “Just relax for me, lemme take care of you. Always take such good care of me.” 

“Oh, darlin’ I love taking care of you. Don’t have to worry about me.” 

You frown, stopping your movements and resting your chin on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. “I care about you so much. I don’t think I could live without you at this point. I want you to feel loved and safe with me, ‘cause that’s how you make me feel.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, and Matty nearly bursts into tears at your words. You want to make him feel as loved as he makes you feel during your intimate moments, but you can’t always do that when he’s fucking you to tears, turning your brain into mush. This is your chance to take care of him.  

He knows sometimes it’s extremely difficult for you to verbalize your feelings so hearing that renders him overjoyed and nearly speechless. He turns around on the bed, placing his hands on your cheeks and kissing you deep enough to make you dizzy.

You put a hand on his chest, giggling and pulling away from the kiss. His hands stay on your face as he grins at you, watching your lips move as you speak. “Lay down and let me give you a back massage, please?” 

“Okay, angel,” he breathes, sitting back on the bed. You help him remove his belt and slacks and he lays on his stomach against the clean sheets. He turns his head to look at you. “You know that I do feel proper taken care of with you, you make me the happiest man on the fuckin’ planet.” 

You give him a big smile, taking one of his hands and kissing the back of it—something you frequently do to show Matty just how much you love him. When you do it, you think back to that first time in his office when he sweetly kissed each of your knuckles as he held your hand, showing his devotion to you. It makes you smile every time.

“I like when you do that, you’re so cute.” He smiles and you playfully scrunch up your nose. He’s got no idea what your reasoning for it is, but you know he’d melt if you told him. Maybe one day. 

“Cute?” You let out an exaggerated gasp and he gently slaps your knee, making you laugh again. “Cutest one in the room is you.” 

“Honey, if you don’t give me that damn back massage right now I’m putting my clothes back on. Feel s’exposed.” 

“Alright, alright.” You reach for your nightstand drawer (yes, yours) to get a fancy rose-smelling oil you bought recently. 

“This oil kind of smells like roses, hope you don’t mind.” It brings you back to the bouquet of fresh white roses in the vase on the kitchen counter. He brings flowers home to you almost every week and you don’t understand how someone can love you so much. You don’t understand it, but you’ve let him grow on you like vines, blooming with love and dedication.

“I’ll just smell like you then, that’s fine,” he says nonchalantly and you snort. Matty is never bothered by the lingering smell of you on his sheets and his clothes. You could drench him in your essence and he’d still be begging, pleading for more. 

“Speaking of roses, I just love the ones out in the kitchen.” You place a couple drops of the oil on your palm, then rub both of your hands together to coat your hands with it. “Love when you bring me flowers.” As you begin to massage his lower back, you press a kiss on his spine and he hums. 

“As long as I have you, pretty girl, you’ll always have flowers.” 

“You’re too sweet,” you mumble against his skin. 

“Yeah, a sweet little old man, huh?” His voice echoes through his body and you feel it against your lips. You lift your head, rolling your eyes even though he can’t even see it. 

“Oh stop, you’re not even old. I call you old man as an endearing term. And because you’ve practically made yourself into one,” you giggle, but it turns into an uncontrollable yawn. 

“You tired, baby?” Matty props himself up on his elbows, looking over his shoulder. His bottom lip juts out when he sees your tired eyes. You nod in response, knowing you can’t hide it from him. 

He turns around and sits on his heels, kissing you. “Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” 

—

Later that night you find yourself back in the arms of your boyfriend, who’s fully dedicated to returning the love and relaxation you gave him. He just has a different way of doing so. And he really couldn’t help himself after taking a hot shower with you. 

His fingers run through your wet folds, brushing your clit and circling your entrance as you begin to relax. He whispers praises as he plays with your pussy, lulling you to sleep with tender kisses on your neck. 

“Such a perfect little girl f’me,” he breathes, “I know you’re tired, sweetheart, it’s okay. Go on to sleep.” His other arm is wrapped protectively around your shoulders, holding you flush to his side as his hand strokes your cheek. “Let Daddy take care of you now, baby.” 

You whine, turning your head a bit to nuzzle your face into his neck. His facial hair is a familiar dull scratch against your face. His touch relaxes you, bliss coursing through your veins as he slowly brings you closer to the edge. “Matty,” a soft moan rips from your throat. 

“Shhh, that’s it, want you to turn that little mind off. Don’t need it anyway, yeah? I know what’s best for you, honey.” He kisses your temple as he finally plunges two fingers into you, the pad of his thumb brushing your clit as he stretches you out. The relief you feel is heavenly, moans spilling out of your mouth and into his warm skin. You grind down on his fingers, not caring how pathetic you look. 

He plays with you under the waistband of your panties, not even bothering to undress you completely before taking what’s his. Your hard nipples poke through your flimsy tank top, making Matty lower his freehand to bunch up the cotton, exposing your bare tits. “Can’t believe you’re mine—love you so much.”

You mewl, arching your back a bit. His hand is soaked from your arousal, fingers making you feel so full. “Yours…” 

He chuckles, rubbing a calloused thumb over your right nipple. “That’s right, pretty baby. All mine.” You let out a loud moan into his neck and he slows but deepens his pace in response, hellbent on making you truly feel him. “My dirty little girl.”

You nod deliriously, tired but relaxed and filled with pleasure (and Matty’s thick fingers). He really is trying to make you sleepy. “Wanna cum, please,” you plead, voice airy. It’s all too much; sleep won’t arrive until he lets you cream all over his hand.

“You wanna cum, huh? Need Daddy to make your brain leak through this sweet fuckin’ cunt?” He finally speeds up his pace again, sick of the teasing. 

“Yesyesyes, I’ve been a good girl. Please, Daddy!” His hand resting on your shoulder comes down to roll a nipple between his fingers. You’re reduced to a whining and squirming mess.

His thumb starts rapidly circling your aching clit, fingers curling upwards inside you, grazing against that soft spot. “Cum, sweet girl, then m’gonna have to fuck you to sleep, shit.” 

You gush all over his fingers, shoving your face in his neck as your legs shake from pleasure. “Thank you—mm, fuck—thank you,” you babble incessantly, gazing up at him through your lashes like he was some sort of Messiah, like he created the ground you walk on with his bare hands. 

You’re completely and utterly devoted to Matty. You always will be. With him, you’re not afraid of anything at all. 

taglist: @lesbianouttamagazine @gembadoobee @yeahireallylikemusic @alien-girl-violet @squishysoupy @sugarkane1001 @love4agesss @herbalaclava

#i purposely left out any details about girlie’s major so you guys can imagine whatever you’d like ! #put hella references to the past four prof fics in here accidentally but imma say it was on purpose #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #the 1975 fic #the 1975 smut #moll’s writing #professor!au

[eyesxxyou]

*ೃ˚ :💾 professor!miguel x reader

❝ warnings ❞ oral (m receiving), desk fucking, making press, anal fingering, finger fucking, Miguel with glasses, cockwarming, exhibitionism, edging

Professor!Miguel makes you his TA because he wanted you to spend more time with it without it raising suspicion as to why you're always in his office.

Professor!Miguel who can't help but give you a little extra credit on your assignments when you get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours to him to slide his cock into and take the edge off of all his hard work. He deals with so much in a day and you want to be there for him, with open arms, open legs, and and open mouth.

Professor!Miguel who has you keep his cock warm with your mouth under his desk while he grades papers. You'll wait until your jaw aches before you begin to nod your head and stroke your tongue along the underside of his thick length. You'll suck his cock, leave him stuttering with his glasses falling lopsided on his face, "Hermosa, my love, please. I have work to do." It makes you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue against his sensitive tip until he gives you what you desire. You let him cum down your throat, each swallow making him sigh in pleasure and relax further into his seat, his head lulled back and his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. You purr in pleasure, your own hand in your pants, teasing your own clit this whole time. His cum coating your tongue and lips making you rock with the beginnings of your own orgasm.

Professor!Miguel who will wait until his last lecture is done and the lights are dimmed before he bends you over his desk and fucks you silly. He'll have you squealing his name, echoing off the walls your eyes looking at the seats you and your classmates once sat in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck– M- Migueeel!" He'll fuck you so hard he moves the desk forward with loud screeches and leaves you with tears pricking your eyes. He strokes his cock inside you so good and deep that it makes you believe that heaven was real and this was it.

Professor!Miguel who loves to tease your ass while fucking you, never fully going there but always testing the waters. He'll spit on your ass and ease his thumb into the tight rim of your hole. You'll moan, your head resting on the papers you were meant to grade, papers you were crumbling in your hands. You'll have to reprint those later. He'll finger you there, ask you if you like it and you'll moan as he pushes further in.

Professor!Miguel who likes to tease you about someone coming in while he's fucking you. The spotlight was on the two of you. If any one came in, their attention would immediately be drawn to you getting railed so hard tears were beginning to prick your eyes. You shivered at the thought, in both fear and pleasure, every shadow making you want to stop but Miguel forced you to keep going, pinning your neck down to the desk with his large hand and rolling his hips against your ass. "Not so fast, cariño."

Professor!Miguel who likes it when you take his reading glasses off when he's fucking you in a mating press and put it on yourself. He'll tuck your legs further against your chest, bending you in half, pressing his body on top of yours to kiss you. "Muñeca, you look like a slut with my glasses on." His tongue will draw across your bottom lip as he looks into your eyes, his glasses barely staying on with the power of his thrusts. He fucks you stupid, drooling, brain-dead. Your fingers claw at his hairy forearms as you look at him. His hair tossed, his shirt open just enough to reveal his chest hair and the golf chain he wears all the time beneath his clothes. The happy trail leading down to the neatly trimmed hair at the base of his cock drilling inside you. If either two of you looked like the slut, it was him.

Professor!Miguel who, as a punishment, with put you in his lap force you to spread your legs, and finger fuck you in his empty lecture hall. He'll force you to look at those doors that you feared would open at any moment. He'll finger you with his thumb stroking and teasing your clit until you reach the edge of completion, labored breathing, grasping hands, needy whimpers, then he'll stop. You'll whine and cry and beg for him to let you cum but he'd wait despite your beautiful pleas for your orgasm to pass, then continue again, your body so grateful that it would relax into him, forgiving his betrayal, your hands reaching back and stroking the back of his head like he's a good boy. Then he'd do it again. And again. Until you were crying in his arms, begging to cum. And when you finally did, it wrecked you, took you in a way that made you thrash in his arms and toss your hand over your mouth to stifle your moan that bordered on a scream.

Professor!Miguel who knew you were easily jealous and would often call in a student to talk to alone without you as a participant. The anxiety killed you and the moment you could get alone with him, whether in a broom closet or in the staff bathroom, you'd pull him in and fuck him like he's never known before, have him shivering with the brutality of an orgasm within minutes.

Professor!Miguel who knows that a relationship of this nature with a student would get him fired but you were so addicting he found himself not caring. He had every reason in the world to cut ties of this nature with you, for you would inevitably lead to his downfall, but everytime you'd kiss him Everytime you'd trace his jaw and snatch his glasses. He could never get rid of you.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #professor!miguel #professor!au #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut

[backtothefanfiction]

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER 

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?” 

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

[wandasfifthwife]

(18+) imagine Natasha as a professor and she helps you study for her upcoming exams.

if you do well on her practice exam, she’ll fuck you into next week. if you do terribly, she’ll leave you high and dry until the next study session.

#natahsa romanoff #natasha x reader smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov x reader #marvel natasha #marvel natasha romanov #natasha x fem!reader smut #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #dom natasha #top natasha #professor!natasha #professor!au #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female

[jamespotterismydaddy]

A Proper Lesson

teacher!daemon x student!reader

A/N: This was a request for a fic similar to short skirts and lacy panties just changed up a bit. This is the version for people who prefer reader fics, the rhae x daemon version is here!

TW: MOJOR DUBCON, SMUT!!, choking, lots of spanking, bondage, dacryphilia, throat fucking

word count: 1,488 words

It’s filthy, the way he thinks about you, the way he looks at you. It’s a small class, Valyrian History 101, you are always right front in centre. Daemon can hardly understand why. The brat never pays attention, but is perhaps looking for it? It could be why you never turn assignments in on time or why you spend more time putting on lipgloss rather than completing you homework. You're just a little spoiled rich girl and he knows it. Daemon knows your father and it makes him realize how you gets away with everything, but he won’t let your behaviour slide any longer.

“Miss (l/n), you will stay after class.” Daemon calls out to you as the other students file out.

“Is there a problem, professor?” You asksinnocently. 

He wants to say that the fact that he can see your nipples through your top is a problem. Instead he says, “Your assignment was meant to be turned in at the start of class.”

“I need an extension.”

“I hardly believe that.”

“My father donates a lot of money to this school.”

Daemon sighs and decides that he will at least give her one last chance. Your father is an old friend after all. “You have until tomorrow morning.”

“I need a three day extension.” You give him a condescending little smirk.

“It will be turned in tomorrow before class begins or you will have real consequences.” He says seriously.

“I’m sure I will.” You smirk before flouncing out of the room without a care in the world.

The next day, nothing is turned in before the start of class and you walk in without placing a physical copy on his desk. You're dressed even sluttier today, tits poking through the dress that barely covers your ass. He’s infuriated by it, by you.

“Miss (l/n), I need to see you after class… again.” He doesn’t make his anger as clear on his face. He wants you to feel nervous. When all the other students are gone, he locks the door. “Where’s your paper?”

“It’ll be ready Thursday.”

“I said you had to have it in today.”

“And I said it would be ready on Thursday.” you smooth out the ruffles on your dress before checking your nails. “Can I go now?” You ask in a bored tone.

“Can you go now?” He scoffs at the question. “Bend over the fucking desk.” His voice is cold, authoritative. 

“Excuse me?” You say with the audacity to look insulted.

“Oh fuck this. You’ll never listen.” He walks over quickly and grabs your arm, pulling you to the desk. 

“W-What in the seven hells are you doing!” You screech before letting out a huff as you're forced over the desk. Daemon reaches into his bag for the thing he knew he would probably need, handcuffs. Only fun ones but you'll hardly be able to break them.

“Shut up before I gag you.” He warns as he cuffs your wrists behind your back.

“I’ll scream if you don’t let me go right now!”

Daemon sighs before taking off his tie and tying it around your mouth to gag you. He keeps one hand on your upper back as he lifts your skirt. 

“No underwear? I bet half the school has seen your bare cunt today with how short this fucking dress is.” He runs his fingers through your folds. Not quite wet yet.

He uses his free hand to pull off his belt. He chuckles at how your eyes widen in fear. Does she think i'm going to fuck her? Poor dumb girl. It’ll be much worse than that. He folds the belt in half and lifts it high in the air before bringing it down hard on your ass. You yelp through the gag but aren't even close to being loud enough for somebody to hear you. He spanks you again with the belt, enjoying the red stripe it leaves on your cheeks. He won’t be stopping until your whole ass is red. He spanks you again, and again, until your yelps turn to moans. Daemon knew you would like this treatment. Such a little brat needs to be put into her place.

“If you scream, i’ll make you do more than regret it.” He warns as he pulls off the gag. You look back at him with tears glistening in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, sir.” You say softly.

“Are you?” He smacks you hard with the belt and you arch your back. “Don’t you think you deserve this?” You take too long to respond and he belts you again. Your poor bum is crimson now, but the slickness between your thighs tells him you needed it. “Answer me.”

“I do! I do deserve it.” He chuckles and tosses the belt on the table. He uses his hand to give you a few more harsh smacks. You whimper at each one.

He pulls you by your hair back up to your feet. “Get on your knees and show me how sorry you are.”

You obey quickly, practically falling to your knees in front of him. Daemon pulls his own cock out because you're still cuffed and puts it to your lips. You suck like your life depends on it. And Daemon can’t help but think that the whore clearly likes having a cock in her mouth. He grips the back of your hair and starts fucking your mouth ruthlessly. He enjoys how the tears start to fall from your eyes as you gag around him.

“You’re going to swallow everything I give you, princess.” He commands before spilling on your tongue. You nearly choke on it but swallow everything.

He pulls you up by your hair again and slaps your ass hard before pushing you back on the table.

“W-Wait, i’m a virgin.” You breathe out.

“If you don’t want it then get up and get out.” He gives you a few seconds and you don't move so Daemon shoves his cock into your tight cunt. You nearly scream but he grips you around your throat so it’s barely more than a squeak. “Keep your voice down, baby. That’s my good girl.” He says as he begins to pound himself into you.

He brings his free hand down to pinch your clit while the hand around your throat prevents you from making any noises. When you finally calm down enough to be quiet, he lets go of your neck so he can use both hands to push your legs down into a mating press. You let out a squeak at the new position. He hits her deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

“Fuck your pussy is so tight but I think i’ll be cumming in that ass.”

“No you can’t!” You squeal out as he pulls out. You begin to squirm so he flips you onto your tummy.

“I can fuck whatever hole I want.” 

He spanks your thighs a few times to punish you for complaining but it doesn’t stop your squirming so he just rolls his eyes and rubs some of your slick over your puckered hole. He slips a finger in to begin stretching you out as you kick your feet and whine.

“Fine, you don’t want to be prepped? Then I won’t prep you.” You're lucky you are all lubed up because Daemon shoves his thick cock right into your ass, bottoming out right away.

“Ahh, ahh.” You whimper as he thrusts into you. You hate how quickly the pain fades into pleasure as he distracts you by rubbing your clit.

“There you go. Just had to get it in and now you’re a happy girl.” He coos as he fucks into you deeper.

“I-m gonna… cu-m.” You manage to get out as he rubs you faster.

“I know you are, baby. Cum for me and i’ll fill up that ass.” 

That triggers you instantly as you reach your peak, squeezing around nothing. Daemon thrusts a few more times before spilling inside you once again. He pulls out only seconds later, starting to fix himself right away.

“I have another class starting in less than 10 minutes.” He uncuffs you but you can barely stand. “You need to leave.”

You straighten out your dress but you have nothing to wipe the cum from between your legs. “But I need-” You start.

“Panties? Maybe you should have worn them instead of choosing to be a little slut. Get to your next class. Let’s see if you can go the whole day keeping my cum in your ass.” He says before giving you a wolfish grin. “And if your paper isn’t in tomorrow, you’re getting a paddling along with another dose of the belt.”

You gulp and nod before picking up your things. Daemon gets the door for you and you nearly stumble out of the room as he sends you off with one more smack on the ass.

A/N: just changed every 'she' to 'you'. never doing that shit again

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#daemon x reader #daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd #hotd smut #house of the dragon #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #professor!au #professor!daemon

[elliesmainhoe]

PROFESSOR

Professor!Ellie X CollegeStudent!Reader

Summary: After Dina forced you to go to her new physics teachers public lecture, you start developing feelings for the professor.

Contents: LEGAL age gap (21 year old reader and 29 year old Ellie), fem!reader, reader is a blunt person and says what she thinks, pining, anxiety, panic attack, confessions, kisses.

Part 1 (you're here) - Part 2 - Part 3

Requested by @lonelyfooryouonly 🧡

My Masterlist

Dina had told you about her physics teacher. She complained constantly about the old man, who droned on and on about the same shit for hours on end, providing no new information of any substance to his students.

That's why on a random Friday afternoon, Dina rushed into the busy café you frequent and taking a be-line for your usual table.

"oh my god. Y/n." Dina practically yelled making several people turn around from there conversations glaring at the brunette. "This is the best day of my life~" she squealed ecstatically.

"Jesus Christ Dina, a little warning next time please?" As your heart pounded at the sudden appearance of the girl. "You spooked me" you laughed. "So what's up"

"Mr.Robinson retired!!!" She screeched, sitting down on the chair opposite you, laughing at your unamused expression.

"Fucking finally, I was so done of you complaining about that asshole" you muttered between sips of coffee.

" and our new physics teacher is having a weekly lecture starting this Saturday. And I was wondering if you would go tomorrow with me?" She continued deciding to ignore your comment.

"Why don't you go with Jesse? One, he's your boyfriend. Two, he takes physics as well."

"Can't I want to spend time with my best friend?"

"cmon, Dina, what's the deal?" You sigh helplessly.

"ugh fine" she moaned "I heard through the grape vine that the new professor is a woman, hot and a lesbian. And since I know you and your innocent, virgin ways, I was thinking you could... y'know?"

"Let me get this straight" you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the irony of the saying "you want to set me up with a rumoured lesbian, who's probably going to be double if not triple my age?" "Yes, yes I am" Dina smiled sweetly, laughing at the expression on your face.

"no I'm not going."

•••••••••• Saturday, 11th March.

You stood Infront of the closed door that lead into the lecture hall. In usual Dina fashion, she was late, and you were early. You had looked through the small glass pane and peered around the room, a few people were scattered around in the rows of seats. The new professor didn't seem to be in there yet .

If you were completely honest you didn't know why you were here and how your definitive no turned into a reluctant yes.

A flurry of brunette hair rushed towards you, "I'm so sorry, y/n, I got caught up" she panted, out of breath from running from across campus. "Yeah, I noticed." You said bluntly, your eyes following Dina's clumsy form as she swung open the lecture hall door.

She ushered you into the last row of seats, shushing you when you went to complain.

"Shhh, just get out your laptop and pretend your working." "Or I can actually work? I have an essay due on Monday." "Yes, whatever, do that then."

You got out your laptop, clad in stickers, including a few rainbow and lesbian flags, frogs, books, plants and band logos plastered all over it.

You opened up the word document named Analysing the use of language in 'a midsummer night's dream by William Shakespeare'. it currently stands at 2500 words, 500 words away from your goal. Before your hands fell into rhythm across the keyboard. The creak of the door sounded out around the room.

Instinctively you looked over at the door. A very attractive woman began walking down to the front, her hair was short and in a light shade of brown, her skin was sun kissed, freckles dotted along her facial features like constellations. There was a pair of glasses resting on her head, smoothing down some loose strands that fell free from her ponytail. She wore dress pants, and a knitted black and white striped sweater, with simple black doc martens boots.

As soon as she reached the front of the room, her voice sounded out, echoing around the room "Good Afternoon everyone, thank you for taking time out of your weekend to willingly chose to come to a physics lecture. This is the first public lecture I will be holding this semester, and depending on how it goes and how many people attend, I will continue it next semester also."

"Right let me answer some questions I know what your probably thinking. Yes, I know I'm young for a professor, and I'm 29 years old before you start speculating" she spoke with a lighthearted playful tone of voice, captivating you even more.

"My full name is Dr. Ellie Williams, but please just call me Ellie, Miss Williams makes me feel ancient. I have just achieved my PHD, but I've been doing guest lectures for a few years so I'm decently experienced."

She took a few questions, but you weren't paying attention to her words, she was beautiful. The way the sun filtered through the blinds and shadowing patterns in the golden sun that fell upon her freckled skin. Her voice was smooth and deep, soft and alluring, holy fuck Dina was right. She was hot, but was she a lesbian..?

A smothered giggle distracted you from your silent onlooking, you turned towards Dina, and rolled your eyes at the girl whose hand covered her mouth trying to stifle the laugh that involuntarily out of her lips.

"Shut up"

"you love me y/n~" she cooed sarcastically.

"unfortunately" you said under your breath, loud enough for Dina to hear, as a false expression of astonishment and offence fell on her face, making a laugh slip through your lips, much to your dismay.

•••••••••• Saturday, 18th March.

You and Dina walked towards the lecture hall, with a straggler in tow. "Does Jesse really have to come with us?" You whine in Dina's ear pathetically "I don't want to see you guys oogling at each other for two hours" you complain.

"Y'know, you could always sit a bit closer to the front, get a better view of Miss Williams." Jesse joked. "She said that she didn't like being called 'Miss Williams'.' Jesse scoffed "yeah of course you know that"

Deciding to ignore the comment, and walk ahead of the dawdling couple. You lived with them already and you didn't need to see them sending heart eyes to eachother any more than you had to. You finally reached the doors to the familiar lecture hall.

Stopping for Jesse and Dina to catch up to you before you rush into the room, nerves turning to excitement as you scurry into the room. Dina and Jesse filed into the back row again, holding hands and slipping in and out of lovey dovey giggles. No thank you.

Deciding to move closer and shuffling into a seat in the corner of the second row to the front. You brought out your sticker smothered laptop again and worked on a new assignment your English professor had assigned.

"Good Morning Everyone" Ellie chirped as she entered the hall, walking down the steps towards her desk. She wore a white muscle tee, a button-up over the top, left slightly open, she wore simply black pants and the same docmartens.

"Right. Okay... Let's get started everyone" compared to the week before, the amount of people who decided to attend the lecture had almost doubled. Ellie began talking, cracking jokes between facts and equations.

You continued to be mesmerized by her swift movements as she explained certain topics that came up on her pre planned PowerPoints. You didn't like physics, your mind simply couldn't wrap around the complex hypotheticals and various equations. But God did you find Ellie attractive. You didn't mind watching the woman's focused face and commanding voice, talk and explain problems and theories.

Shit.

••••••••••• Wednesday, 22 March

This is the worst day you've ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

First, you woke up on your period, after dosing yourself up on paracetamol and shoving a few tampons in your bag before leaving your's, Dina's and Jesse's, shared apartment.

Second, after ordering your usual latte from the coffee shop you regular, just off campus. The takeaway coffee cups, lid hadn't been put on properly and oops, your new pastel blue dress was now had a large coffee stain right down it.

Third, on your way to your first lecture of the day, it started raining, drenching your hair and soaking the newly spilt coffee into your dress further.

You felt the build up of emotions bubble in your stomach, the overstimulation making everything so so much worse. Quickly, to try and escape the pouring rain, you took shelter in an on-campus book shop. You hid in the corner of the room sitting on a lone couch, as you let the tears fall freely down your face.

Lips wobbling as you tried your hardest to keep the sobs at bay. Fuck. You hated your period. You hated stupid rain. You hated lukewarm coffee. You hated early morning lectures. You hate-

"Hey." A soft voice met your ears, "are you alright?".

You didn't look up, trying your hardest to calm yourself down and not humiliating yourself anymore than you already had.

"yes. M'fine." You muttered.

"It was more of rhetorical question... Can I sit down?..."

"Sure" you whispered, keeping your voice low so it didn't crack.

"You come to my public lectures, don't you?"

What.

The.

Fuck.

No no no no no no no no no no no no.

This can't happen, there is no fucking way that your stupid, stupid, crush is now talking to you while you have a mental breakdown.

Ellie was extremely worried, looking at your hunched over form, now gone rigid at her question. You were pretty, and Ellie's eyes couldn't resist drifting towards you, in your pretty dresses and knitted sweaters.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She whispered, when you didn't reply. "I'll leave you be"

"no."

Your hoarse voice replied before she could leave. "Oh okay... Bad day then?"

"you have no idea" you sniffed looking up at Ellie for the first time, through your wet eyelashes. She looked at the fresh coffee stain on your dress "I have a small idea" she laughed lightly.

She began to shed her coat, handing towards you. "Here take it... Should keep you warm until you dry off, and it'll cover the stain." She smiles at you.

You sit up straighter, wrapping the coat around your shoulders "thanks" you sniffed again, before wiping your nose on the sleeve of you jumper. "What's your name?" Ellie asks, looking at your tear stained face.

"Y/N..." You mumbled, her gaze hot on your face and you sink into yourself.

"That's a pretty name... What do you study?" You knew what she was trying to do, ask you questions to distract you from your tears, and it worked.

"I study English language"

"well, what are you reading right now?"

Shit shit shit. Right be discreet, tell her your gay discreetly. Jack Fucking Pot!!!!!

"Last night at the telegraph club..."

"oh cool... I'm uh- I'm uh reading 'one last stop" she replied a smile slipping into her face.'

"Nice." You say, an awkward grin gracing your features. "Uhm, it was really nice talking to you, I should give you your coat bac-"

"No. Keep it... You can give it back on Saturday."

"yes, yes...I'll- I'll do that." You get up reluctantly, but you did have a place to be... "Bye Ellie" "See you soon, Y/N."

••••••••• Saturday, 25th March

You were absolutely terrified. More terrified than you ever had been in your whole life. You wore a rainbow shirt, denim skirt and basic black converse, with Ellie's brown coat tucked under your arm as you walked on your own to the lecture hall.

Dina and Jesse were out on a date, leaving you to fend for yourself today. You were debating whether or not to actually go or to chicken out. But ultimately, you decided that you would feel too guilty if you didn't give it back on time as you promised.

So you tried to carry on like normal, entering the lecture hall five minutes early, slotting into the corner of the second row, taking out your personalized laptop and opening up the current assignment you had been working on.

A few minutes later a creak of a door followed by a 'Good Morning everyone.' as the older woman walked towards her desk briskly. She immediately began talking, taking questions and answering as best she could. It was incredible, how she talked with so much passion and understanding for her subject, the way she smiled when a student showed a similar amount of intrigue and fascination that she did.

Ellie was a great teacher. She was so lovely, talking to her students like they were humans, showing and explaining theories in different ways so there was more opportunities for those watching to understand. The way she acted, her kindness, her laugh, her humour, it made the uneasy feeling in your stomach increase every second.

Before you knew it, the two hours had been and went and people began to file out, talking and laughing with eachother. You stayed seated waiting until less people were around before you got up and scurried towards her desk.

"Here." You blurted out, handing the brunette her leather brown coat. "Thank you Y/N." She hummed in reply.

"uh no problem, I wasn't going to steal your jacket, that would be rude" you said, immediately thinking to yourself 'no fucking shit, that was an idiotic thing to say'

"so y/n. Why did you decide to come to my lecture? Physics is a big leap from English"

"my friend Dina takes your subject, she wanted to drag me along to kinda see what you were like before her first official class with you."

'A+ lie right there' you thought to yourself proudly. I mean you couldn't exactly say 'my friend has wanted me to hook up with someone for months now and she heard you were attractive and liked girls'.

"Dina... So I'm assuming it's you're last year in university then?",

"uh yeah. Two semesters left..." God. this was so awkward. Fuck your lack of ability to understand social cues.

You looked at Ellie's face, studying it and seeing a hesitant expression written on her face. "I was, uh, wondering how you were doing?... I mean I couldn't stop thinking about the other day and I just, wanted to make sure you were alright..."

"Oh... That's actually really nice of you. Uhm I'm doing okay, I got just very overwhelmed. It happens a lot but I mask I usually mask it better. I don't really know what came over me"

"no no no. I totally get it, I just y'know worry..." She gave a shy smile, her face slightly flushed, not really knowing what else to say.

"just know I'm always here to talk. I can give you my number? if you ever wanted to call me up and talk about things." "Yeah, yeah I'd really like that actually"

Ellie turned back to her desk, grabbing a pad of sticky notes, writing a string of numbers and doing a small doodle in the corner before giving it to you. "thanks, Ellie" you hummed, turning around quickly and scurrying out of the room, note in hand.

•••••••••• Sunday, 2nd April

You didn't call Ellie. You didn't text Ellie. You didn't even show up to her last lecture, despite Dina's pleading.

Confused. That's what you were, so fucking confused. You really, really liked Ellie. You'd only seen her a few times. She was sweet, kind, beautiful, hot and caring. But she was a professor, not your professor but still, she worked for the college you attended. And you were a student.

What in the forbidden romance trope is this? This isn't a romcon or a novel. If you started flirting with Ellie, or Ellie started flirting with you, she could get fired. Her whole livelihood down the drain just like that. Yes, it was legal. But, if it got out, people would view it suspiciously and rumours would start going around.

But you were overthinking. What if Ellie didn't even like you at all? Just gave you her number out of courtesy, feeling sorry for you after witnessing you cry.

Feelings are so useless. This is why you didn't do this type of stuff, you didn't date, didn't hook up with anyone, because it was easy, no emotional conflict, no feelings getting hurt. And now, you had been thrown into the deep end. Crushing on someone seemingly unattainable. Thanks Dina.

"y'know, if you stop sulking in bed and actually texted her, you'd feel a lot better." Speak of the devil.

"no it won't, it'll make me feel worse," you replied voice muffled by the pillow you had buried your face into.

"how would you know? You've never done this before. I, however, am a certified veteran at talking phases, and trust me y/n. I'm right"

"no"

"You text her right now. Or else you have to come with me to my physics lesson with me on Monday and you have to talk to her after."

••••••••••• Monday, 3rd April

Its 9am on a Monday morning and let's just say you are cursing the world... and Dina.

"Just remember y/n the longer you wait, the harder it'll be. Let's just get it out the way, yeah?" She chirped, linking arms with you, a reassuring smile on her face. "No..." You whined in reply as Dina ushered you out of the apartment.

"c'mon."

The walk was excruciating. Your mind was in another world as Dina joked and laughed with you, trying to take your mind off the looming anxiety that began to bubble in your chest. After fifteen minutes of walking on auto pilot, and almost walking into various obstacles (poles, trash cans, lamp posts etc), you finally arrived at the all too familiar lecture hall.

"Ready?"

"no"

"let's go".

Dina shuffled into the background, gesturing you to sit next to her, so you did, hands clasped together trying to swallow down the panic of your fast paced heart pounding in your chest.

"Hey, calm down..." You heard Dina whisper into your ear, as she grabbed your hand squeezing it, trying to comfort you. Breathing in deeply, you pulled out the book you were currently reading, trying to distract yourself.

"Good Morning everyone!" The familiar smooth voice of the woman you had been having a crisis over for weeks sounded out throughout the room as she entered. You're heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat and became irregular.

"Shit. Dina, I-I don't think I can do this." You stammered, feeling tears well in your eyes.

"Okay, okay. C'mon, let's go." She rushed, eyes showing a guilty expression, as she closed her laptop, shoving into her bag and entwining hads with you as she guided you to the door. "

As soon as you left the stuffy hall, it felt as if the weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I really didn't mean to push you, I shouldn't have. Gosh I'm so sorry." She rushed out.

"no, no don't apologize you were only trying to help. " You sighed as you took a seat on the floor outside the lecture hall.

"I need to go to the restroom. Are you sure you'll be okay for a sec?, we can leave once I get back"

"yeah, yeah, go ahead. I'll manage"

You closed your eyes, as you listened to Dina's footsteps become further and further away and tried to regulate your erratic breathing.

"Hey." No , not again.

Ellie shuffled sitting next to you on the ground. "You okay?" "No."

"right, yeah, obviously..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way... Just don't get the point in lying, y'know?"

"I get it, it's an admirable trait." The underlying compliment caused your cheeks to flush pink, under her gaze. You became more aware of your surroundings, the feeling of elies side pushed up against yours now becoming more prominent.

Deciding to look at your shoes instead of meeting Ellie's warm gaze, you foot began to tap, jittering irritably from the nerves that still hadn't left your body.

"Don't you have a lecture to go back to?" You ask, trying to nurse the conversation back to life.

"I do, but I have different priorities currently..."

"You should go back, what priorities are more important than your job?"

You could practically feel Ellie's smile, even though you weren't even looking at her... "This..." She mumbled, her hand brushing under your chin and guiding your face to hers.

Your lips connected slowly, you could taste her strawberry Chapstick mix with the cherry one you had applied on yourself earlier. You felt her lips twisted into a smile, her hand moved from your chin, across your jawline until finally reaching the back of your head, pushing you deeper into the kiss.

A cough erupted from behind you, making you and Ellie jump apart. Turning around quickly to face the culprit-

"Dina!-" you yelled at the girl, who stood leaning against the wall, a smug grin painted on her face.

"Told you so."

----------------

Part 2

Here it is. I actually really like this one, I feel like I could've written the ending better but oh well. The ending is slightly different to what was requested, but I started writing and it just kinda happened like that. But I hope you still like it 🧡

NOT PROOFREAD

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #the last of us #ellie x reader #lesbian fic #wlw #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #professor!au #professor!ellie #professor x student #tlou headcanons #ellie williams hbo #tlou hbo #ellie headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #elliesmainhoe

[shroomiewrites]

Private Lessons || Professor!Price x F!Reader

Professor!Price x F!Reader || 7.4k words || NSFW || 18+ || Minors DNI

Warnings: AFAB reader, explicit sexual themes, alcohol consumption, degradation, creampie, spanking, dry humping, praise, power play if you squint, blasphemous behavior.

⁠✧.*⁠Next chapter || Assignment Tutoring*⁠.⁠✧

Synopsis: You couldn't be happier when your failure of a professor was being temporarily replaced with a substitute teacher, however, your happiness is quickly replaced with panic as you meet your new professor.

The clock ticked slowly. Agonizingly slowly. It usually did when you were seated in the uncomfortable joint seat from the auditorium, behind your laptop as the bright white blank page stared back mockingly at you. Not an unusual situation by any means, that, however, didn't make it any better as you repressed a yawn for the third time in the past two minutes.

Your professor paced around in front of the full board, hands gesturing wildly, rambling about some nonsensical story that had nothing to do with the subject he's supposed to be teaching and you're supposed to be learning. Clearly you were both failing at your tasks, but, ironically enough, only you'd fail at the end of the semester when the lack of attention and study notes came back to bite you in the ass.

The bell finally rang and you felt your body physically slack in relief. Your hands mindlessly putting your laptop away in your bag in a robotic manner from pure habit. Your mind was only thinking about what you were going to eat that evening and how long of a nap could you fit into your afternoon before you had to spend the rest of the day actually studying whatever was supposed to be taught by your incompetent teacher.

"Thank you everyone for coming, and don't forget that I'll be away for an international congress for the next month, so a substitute teacher will be taking my place. As always if you need me my email is–"

Is God real? Or did you just think so hard about having someone that actually knows how to do their job that it you manifested it into existence? Whatever it is, whatever divine entity that allowed for those words to come out of your professor's mouth were sure to be working in your favor and you promised you'd owe them one would you ever figure them out.

Your coffee tasted that much better that afternoon, a taste of accomplishment and contempt that doubly warmed your throat as the hot liquid ran it down. 

"Celebrate the small victories," you thought.

If God was real, he was a dick. The absolute fucking worst. Him or whatever other deity played a cheap trick on you when all you wanted was to get a damn good grade in possibly the most boring class in your curriculum. 

Given, it wasn't that boring anymore, thanks to the mountain of a man who had his back turned to you as he unceremoniously wrote on the board, clapping his hands softly to rid it of the excess chalk powder before he turned to the class once again.

Professor Price, the words read.

You would've relished a bit more in the absence of your previous failure of a teacher, but you could nearly physically hear the universe laughing at you as you tried to pry your eyes away from the man's giant arms that escaped his rolled up dress shirt, without any success whatsoever. 

You were fucked. If you were failing before thanks to your teacher's lack of any teaching skills, now you are failing because the way this man's thighs were furiously trying to break free from the confinement of his pants was making you want to get up and scream about how incarcerating innocent subjects was a miscarriage of justice. Maybe you could throw in some fancy precedent that'd show him you were actually a good student of the law and not just some whore lusting after your own fantasies of being bent over his table and feeling his muscular thighs hit your legs from behind as–

"Morning, class." His thick British accent nearly made you jump your seat, eyes focused on his figure but your mind far away.

His voice. His fucking voice. Hoarse and throaty. Like he just stretched relaxedly, sprawled in bed after a long night and was greeting you with a sly smile on his face. Or maybe you were just a little too deep in your headspace. Either way. It scratched your brain just right, sending tingles down your spine, you watched as he put his hands inside his front pockets, wide stance giving you a perfect look at his broad chest. It probably felt nice to lay on, to place your palms on to steady yourself as you– God. 

"I'm Professor Price and I'll be covering this class for the next few weeks as Professor Wilson is away," The way he scanned the room was focused but unpretentious, not in judgment, more like curiosity. 

When he glanced over you, stopping to take you in for a split second that you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't making a living out of studying his every feature, you felt butterflies in your stomach. A familiar warmth traveling down to in between your legs as you scolded yourself for acting like a damn college girl, soon reminding yourself that you were, in fact, a college girl. Not that it was terribly on brand for you to lust after your professors, however it was painfully often that you found yourself falling for men that would be charmingly referred to as DILFs. And Professor Price? Was a fucking huge one. 

"I hope we can make great use of this short amount of time we'll be together, and I'm here for any assistance you may need. I know this subject can be quite a challenge," he chuckles, deep and rusty, and you make a mental note to check if you need a panty change when the class ends. 

The rest of the class goes by so fast you actually find yourself disappointed when the bell rings. Professor Price was as good of a teacher as he was eye candy. Never once had you seen a class so thoroughly focused on a lecture about corporate law, and you suspected a few other students shared your same fertile imagination when it came to your new educator. For the first time in weeks you were actually able to look proudly back at your laptop screen, paragraphs of text and citations adorning the screen. Sure, you had to fight your instinct of drooling over the way Professor Price's back muscles shifted as he wrote on the board, unaware of all the vile, lascivious thoughts that plagued your mind every time he cleared his throat to start a new sentence.

You scoffed putting your stuff away while looking at two girls in class go up to Price's desk, twirling their hair as they asked him a question about the lecture. But you weren't dumb. You saw it in their little mischievous eyes that corporate law was the last thing in their raunchy heads as one of them touched his arm, oh, so accidentally. Please. At least you hid it. 

Right?

If you were ever an atheist, you couldn't remember. You were pretty sure God was real and present, but above all else, that he had a personal vendetta against you. Maybe that was narcissistic to think, but you sure got that impression as you recognized a certain pair of blue eyes and combed beard coming through the bar's double door. Because, of course, your male's-underwear-catalog-model of a professor just walked into the place you've been drinking and trying to forget about him for the past hour. And, of course, he's wearing a tight white shirt that outlined his spec muscles so well it might be illegal, not to mention the glasses?! The fucking glasses. Thank goodness he didn't wear them in class or you might've just cum right there and then. He looked so entirely different with them but recognisable still, it was infuriating. Who does he think he is? Clark Kent?

You had plenty of plans for the night. Convincing yourself you deserved a little treat after spending the evening looking through and editing your class notes. His class notes. It was a simple course of action you had in mind, truly. Go down to your usual bar, drink yourself away, maybe kiss a guy or two, go back home and regret it all as you woke up on a Saturday with a massive headache and books to read. But now, your body was getting side tracked. Insisting on traveling the entirety of his body, not feeling a drop of shame as you stopped at his crotch, taking notice of the big bulge there. 

Fuck. He was big. You could sense it, you could imagine it and you desperately wish you could feel it.

Shaking your head, you tried to erase the mental image of being on your knees in front of him and focus on the average looking blond guy who had been eating you with his eyes ever since you stepped foot into the place. You were betting with yourself on how long it'd take him to actually make a move on you. Needless to say, he had the rush of a monk. But at least it'd keep you busy as you tried with every fiber of your being to forget your professor.

"Hey," A familiar croaky voice came from behind you,"You were in my class earlier right?"

Now this just has to be some sort of sick joke. How long until cameras popped out from behind the bar and footage of you staring at his dick was all over the internet? Could you just double it and give it to the next person?

"Uh– professor!" You whipped your head, putting on the best sober smile you could, "Yeah, yeah. I was." Maybe that's all he wanted to know, just being a nice, courteous man before he went on his merry way.

"Ha! Knew I recognized ya." He sat down on the stool next to you. 

Well now this is just tragic, frankly. Both the way he was oblivious to how much of a mess you were by as much as his presence and how the blond guy was apparently very taken aback by the wardrobe sized man talking to you and started flirting with another girl shortly. Pig. 

"How was it? I was a bit unsure on how to approach it, I remember I found the topic so bloody boring in my time, thought I could spice it up a bit." And spice it up he did. Maybe a little too much. 

"It was great!" you nodded, hoping he wouldn't ask you to quote your favorite part because right now, the alcohol in your system and his musky cologne wiped your brain out completely, leaving only a deep burning desire to be absolutely fucked senseless, "Professor Wilson is a great teacher," A lie, "but I could comprehend it a lot better with the way you explained it." Not necessarily a lie. 

"That's great to hear, then." His smile was genuine and bright, of someone who had no idea that if he ordered you to get down on your knees right there and then you would with zero hesitation.

An innocent smile adorned your lips as you took another sip of your third drink of the night, barely feeling the burn that went down your throat anymore. You were embarrassed, honestly. Being this hot and bothered by a poor teacher who was only putting effort into doing his job right left you feeling like the biggest slut to set foot in town. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not missing the way Price's eyes glanced subtly to your legs as your mini dress rode up a few inches. 

Just an involuntary reaction, you were sure, or your devious mind was playing tricks in you.

"Recommend me anything?" Your attention turned back to him as he pointed at your drink.

You thought for a second. He didn't look like he enjoyed the fruity sweet drinks you were downing like a mad man, no. He looked like he was more of a 'something strong and a little bitter on the tongue' man. 

"You look like you might be into scotch." You note and he raised an eyebrow, a low hum echoing from his lips.

"Read me like a book, I see." His smirk was as amused as it was surprised.

"Try the godfather." The bossy underline of your tone was definitely not on purpose… Grinning to yourself as he bit his lip before nodding and turning to the barista that arrived to take his order.

"Well, ya heard the lady. One godfather for this old man." The barista nodded and you contemplated whether to jump onto the opportunity or not.

Fuck it.

"You don't look old at all," you giggled. Disgusting truly, as low as the girls in his class, but could you honestly be blamed? 

The low chuckle that came out of him made it all worth it. Putting one arm on the counter as he shook his head. You noticed how his biceps flexed as he moved.

"You know what they say, 'age isn't a number, it's an attitude'."

Cheesy. Would absolutely turn you off if he wasn't the one saying it. In his voice it became a rather sexy mantra. You wanted to show him an attitude alright.

"Means more experience no?" You brought your straw to your lips, never breaking eye contact. The innuendos of the question were to be judged by God and God alone. You're lucky being horny isn't a crime.

"Indeed it does… in a lot of areas." His gaze was fixed on yours and you nearly choked on your drink.

He didn't– he wasn't… flirting with you? Was he? 

"Law?" You asked cheekily, trying hard not to think about the wet patch in your panties.

His laugh was easy and genuine. A treat to your ears, not being able to hold a smile yourself.

"Sure," he concluded, drink being posed in front of him by the bartender.

He thanked the man, bringing the cup up in between you two.

"For learning new things, aye?" You smiled, bumping your cup softly against his, a small clink sound coming from between the glasses before you two brought it to your lips.

And, man, did you learn new things. 

You learned his name was John, which you immediately tested in your head about how you'd sound moaning it (pretty good), he worked at a firm in the UK for nearly 10 years before deciding to take up on teaching full time. He'd been a professor for 6 years now, was unmarried with no kids, "My hectic life couldn't hold up a proper relationship," he said. 

You also learned he was an avid football fan and loved hiking. Both which explained his top notch physique. Not that you were staring, of course… 

"But tell me more about you," he finished his second drink, "You have a boyfriend?" 

The question caught you by surprise, erupting something very unholy inside of you. Was this a casual get-to-know-your-student question? Did such a thing even exist? As far as your experience went, professors weren't really going around drinking with their students.

"Uh– no, no. You know, with the whole last year of college thing and trying to find good opportunities it's just… hard to find the time," you answered truthfully.

Not that you were a lonely, sad woman by any means, having your fair share of lovers here and there. Ultimately they all ended the same way, you slowly fell out of touch as your schedules got more and more conflicting. Not that it bothered you that much, you were more than fine with the freedom of being single and the pleasure of an occasional fling.

"I get that," You thought he actually did, "but I'm more than sure a pretty lady like you won't have trouble finding a nice young guy," he stated, eyes looking for your expression.

His choice of words stuck with you. Nice young guy. You stopped momentarily, it could either mean two things — he was giving you a hint that he didn't want anything with you, or… he was trying to see if you were open to the idea. You pondered for a moment, your next words needed to be expertly chosen if you wanted to cover both terrains until you figured out which was right. 

You took one last sip of your drink, head slightly dizzy as you thought hard, "I don't know if those young nice guys are really for me, Professor." 

The way he sucked in a breath at hearing his title was nearly too much for you, sending you spiraling into your carnal thoughts about moaning it as he spanked you on his lap. 

"Have they not been taking care of you right?" There was a dark undertone to his words, a palpable tension as you both tiptoed around the blurred lines, the alcohol serving as a catalyst to send your mind into a frenzy with each look he gave you.

You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes darted down to them, Adams' apple bobbing in a contained gulp.

"Not in the way I want them to." He visibly tensed at your words, veins getting more visible as he grasped the empty glass tighter, knuckles turning slightly white. For a second you were scared he'd bust the cup, fully aware that even if he did, it'd be the hottest thing in the world.

Another second of silence went by and you started to panic. Had you gone too far? Did you step on a landmine in the little minesweeper game you were playing? You were about to backtrack, come up with a bullshit lie when he interrupted you.

"I think it's getting late. You should head home as well. I'll pay for your taxi." Your heart dropped to your stomach. It felt like a slap to your face.

You stood there, mouth agape as you tried to comprehend what went so wrong in so little time. Above all else, how would you still attend his class after this? Maybe you could just retake it next semester? Wait until Professor Wilson came back and tell him you had come up with a mysterious case of the flu and couldn't go to class for the past month. 

Your internal rambling was interrupted by John taking his wallet out and laying two bills on the counter, paying for both your drinks. You were about to tell him to stop and that you could pay for your own drinks, feeling embarrassed enough. Before you could, he dragged his arm off the counter, hitting your purse that rested above it to the ground. You watched as he immediately bent down to grab it, grunting an apology.

His fingers curled around the purse beside your leg and he agonizingly slowly brushed his other hand on your leg all the way up to your thigh, where he rested it for a second in a subtle and discreet move. Anyone looking from afar would just think he was giving you back your clutch. He placed the small bag in your lap, being as close to your face as he ever was and you could clearly see the lustful gleam behind his glasses. 

"Black Ford, parked on the end of the street. I'll take 5 minutes checking something on my work bag…" He whispered, sending a heat down your body, "If you decide for whatever reason to go there help me…" The brittled tone of his voice along with the mixed scent of his cologne and the scotch was sending you to paradise, "I'll take good care of you, darling." 

You definitely needed a panty change. Hell you might've felt your slick run down your legs slightly, feeling cold where his touch was after he took his hands off, nodding a courteous goodbye to the barista before going out the doors and making a right.

Heart stammering against your chest, you took a second to try and think straight, failing miserably. Whatever was left of your logical thinking begged for you to reconsider the idea of getting into your professor's car. But it was to no avail as you slowly got up from your seat, grabbing your purse and walking out, turning right.

The short walk to the end of the street where you thought you saw a black Ford was filled with your anxious thoughts. God, were you really about to sleep with your teacher? Well, he'd only be there for another few weeks anyway, it's not like you were officially his student anyway. Or that's what you'd tell yourself at night to be able to sleep after letting out all of your fantasies with the hot mountain of muscles that currently stared at your small figure approaching the car. You glanced around once before opening the passenger door and getting inside, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled into the comfortable seats.

Price's eyes were glued onto your figure, unabashedly skimming his eyes over your exposed legs and your chest and neck.

"Drive us somewhere a bit more… private." You don't know where you found strength or courage to order him around, but he clearly didn't mind, smiling and spitting out a 'yes, ma'am', starting to drive out of the busy street. 

You took the opportunity of having him focused on the traffic to take him in completely, how his arms flexed as he grasped the steering wheel, how his thighs barely had any free space to move on the small driver's seat and the giant boner he sported. It made your mouth water and you bit your lip, repressing a premature moan from spilling out your lips.

"Like what you see?" He was clearly amused, a side smirk playing on his face as his eyes were still glued to the road in front of him.

"Maybe…" You decided to tease a little, two could play that game.

He chuckled, a small breath coming out of his nose as he wet his lips before talking, "I think you do, since you've been fucking me with those eyes ever since class this morning."

You considered opening the door and simply throwing yourself out of the moving car. How much more pathetic does the universe need you to look? 

"Oh. I– well–" He was full on laughing now, a husky, delicious laugh that had you rubbing your thighs together for any friction you could get.

"Can't say I didn't find myself getting distracted by you a couple times, love…" he confessed, taking a quick side glance at you and you felt utterly naked under his gaze, completely exposed.

"You fuck your students often?" Was it necessary? No. Did it please you to see the way he looked at you pointedly, almost angry? Absolutely.

"Who said I'm gonna fuck you?" 

The bastard. How dare him. You turned your head in his direction, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"What are we doing? Private lessons?" He chuckled once more, one hand moving from the steering wheel to your leg, giving it a squeeze. Your breath hitched, biting your lip.

"I'll definitely teach you a lesson." His smile was playful but his tone… he was serious. Deadly.

The words went straight to your core, if it was physically possible for you to get wetter you would've. You cursed yourself for not being able to keep up a cool act near him, your body constantly betraying what your mind wanted you to do.

"And you're the first one. I'm not a pervert." You chuckled at his words, but felt a weird sense of pride. Like he was your dirty little secret.

"We'll see about that." He looked at you curiously, hands squeezing your thigh one more time, a bit harder this time, "You're not killing me right? Cause technically, you're taking me to a secondary location and the odds of me surviving that are slim to none." 

Price threw his head back, a genuine string of laughter coming out his mouth. Surprisingly enough that one warmed your heart more than your pussy and you were utterly disgusted with yourself. Fantasies of riding him until you passed down were fine, but you drew the line at imagining how his chest would bob up and down when he laughed as you laid over it on a chilly Sunday evening. 

"I wonder if you'll still be that cheeky with my cock in your mouth, love," he said nonchalantly and you stood dazed as he winked at you.

Where had this man been all this time? 

"I think this is good." The car stopped and you looked around.

You recognized the neighborhood, not too far off where you lived. It was quiet and peaceful, a lot different than most places in your city during a Friday night. There was a small hill close by that stood in front of a river that crossed the city, the soft sound of rippling water filling your ears. 

"I see you chose somewhere near the river so it'll be easier to dispose of my body," you joked, John undid his seatbelt and turned slightly to you, or as much as he could with his giant legs.

"Or I could take you up there and hold you while we watch the stars," he said softly, but you still picked up on the gentle sarcasm of his tone.

"Now that's a psychopathic thought." You turned to him, licking your bottom lip as you mapped his features, the slope of his nose, the way his mustache grazed his upper lip, how his blue eyes looked down at you ferociously behind the thin frame of his glasses, like he was about to jump at you anytime. You found it thrilling.

"If you want to stop this…" he began, voice barely audible, "Tell me now. Because after we start, I know I won't be able to hold myself anymore." 

You inhaled dizzily, unsure of how could every single thing he did turn you on so damn much. Your hands moved to rest on his chest, you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles underneath your hand, traveling up until they rested on the collar of his shirt. His breathing was ragged and you watched him close his eyes for a moment.

"Eager much?" you whispered back, hoping your bratty behavior would stir up something in him. He scoffed, his own hand trailing up your inner thigh, taking your dress with him.

"They'd need a fuckin' crane to tear me off ya." It sounded a bit comical, but with the way he looked at you, like you were prey, and his fingers groped the flesh of your thigh, you actually believed him.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You pulled him harshly to you, crashing your lips. 

His kiss was exactly like you imagined, like you hoped. The taste of scotch filled your mouth as your tongues lapped against each other in a messy kiss. His guttural moans sent you off orbit, worrying that if his dick wasn't inside you in the next 20 minutes you might just drop dead. 

Your hand slid up from his collarbones until they rested at his nape, you pulled his short hair harshly, parting his mouth away from yours by mere inches, relishing in the way his half lidded eyes looked down at you, watching attentively as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, softly biting into the skin. John let out something close to a whimper and you were sure that that was the single hottest sound in the entire world and you'd kill to hear it again. 

"Fuck, c'mere." In a swift movement, he pushed his seat back a bit, grabbing you like you weighed nothing and placing you straddling him, his hands immediately going from your waist to your hips, before giving your ass a firm slap.

A sound moan went out your lips, closing your eyes and nearly falling forward on his chest. You could feel the outline of his dick under you, providing you with not nearly enough friction, pulsing with the whimper you made as he squeezed your ass harshly. 

"Sound so fuckin' good, baby." His head was now in the crook of your neck, kissing, licking and biting his way to your breasts. 

You wanted to answer with a little quip, keep up your bratty attitude. But the sheer stimulus from his hands and mouth on your body, being slowly rocked on his hard on, was just too much already and you could only moan and whimper broken cries of his name.

"Already daft for me, sweetheart?" He let out a throaty small laugh, one hand traveling from your ass, up your waist, gently squeezing your boob before setting down on your cheek, "Thought you'd last longer with your little attitude, hm?" He whispered darkly into your ear, biting your lobe softly and rocking your hips against him again. 

"J-John…" you whimpered, the fabric of his jeans against your wet panties, sure to leave a stain, torturing your pussy.

His fingers grazed your cheek and your jaw, before his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly.  

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" he asked, his hand coming down on your ass in another loud slap, you steadied yourself with both hands on his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as his thumb invaded your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it, nodding your head to his question, a low hum echoed from his throat as he shook his head, "Use your words like a big girl, hm?" He grazed your tongue one last time before taking his finger out, your spit dripping from his finger to your chin, he gently smeared it around, eyes fascinated as he watched your drunk eyes and parted lips, body squirming on his lap.

"Y-yes." You gathered the strength you had to mutter, little huffs coming out of your mouth as you tried to grind yourself harder against him.

"Yes what?" He raised your chin to look at him, eyes fiery and dark.

You trembled over from another slap he gave your ass, rocking you forward in his covered dick, the friction sending jolts up your body and you threw your head back, hissing. John grabbed a handful of the hair on the back of your head, turning your face back to him in a surprisingly gentle movement.

"Y-yes, sir." You could feel his dick twitching under you at the honorific, the side of his mouth going up slightly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"That's my girl." 

By God, you nearly came at that. You barely had time to bathe in the way his raspy voice echoed in your ear with the praise, feeling the straps of your dress be pushed down your arms, the fabric at your chest now bunched over your hips. John sucked in a breath, admiring your naked body lustfully, biting down on his bottom lip.

"Bloody hell, love, look at you…" He used one hand to mold the flesh of your right boob, kneading it with furrowed brows, completely focused on the way you panted in pleasure. He rolled your nipple on his fingers and you jumped, making him chuckle.

"A little jumpy, are we?" You groaned in complaint but he just laughed at you, mouth flying down to capture your other breast. He sucked and twirled his tongue around your hardened nipple, humming in satisfaction, while humping up, grinding into your pussy.

"S-sir, please–" you begged and he let go of you with a pop, you looked down seeing his shiny lips from sucking on your boob, trying your best to take in so you could relive the moment when you were alone.

"What do you want, baby girl?" He was teasing you, taking the most pleasure in breaking you apart. 

"You in– fuck– inside me," you spoke in between breaths, his grinding getting harder and harder as your panties got so soaked you could only feel the friction of his jeans against you.

"Well looks who's eager now," if you had any strength you would've slapped his chest, but your arms were already shaking, your inebriated state along with your desperate need for him down there making your head spin.

Maybe it was mercy, maybe he wanted it just as much as you but was that much better at hiding it, whatever it was you thanked the heavens when he pushed you back slightly to open the zipper of his jeans, a wet stain in the spot you were seated before. Price looked rather amused at it, almost proud that if he left you there for another 5 minutes you would've probably come on riding his clothed dick alone. 

You salivated at the sight of his boxers, a huge bulge outlined by the thin, stretchy fabric of his underwear. Your hands immediately flew down to it to break his cock free, feeling the absolute girth and length of him. Your belly ached with the sheer prospect of having his massive dick in you, certain that you would be sore for a few days at least.

"Shite–" he threw his head back in a hoarse moan, biting hard on his lip as you smeared the pre cum on his tip, imagining all the positions you wanted to do with him.

He looked back at you, eyes narrowed in pleasure as he witnessed you spit on his cock and move your hands up and down faster, the wet, unholy sounds paired with your cock drunk appearance driving him to the edge. He gathered the strength to grab both your wrists and pull you to him, your lips connecting once again in an even messier kiss.

His beard tickled your skin, but it wasn't as prickly as you thought it'd be. His hands moved to the small of your back, while the other nested into your hair again. Your tongues met again, groans erupting from him while you whined to feel more of him. You moved your hips forward until you were grinding your clothed clit against his hard member. The pleasure making you moan loudly into the kiss as he pulled your hair.

"You want my cock inside you, baby? Want me to pound into you like a whore?" He bit hickeys on the column of your neck, licking the sore spots after, drowning in your soft moans and begs of his name that just rolled of your tongue in a messy string of pleas.

"P–please, sir. Fuck me like a slut, pl–please," You whined and he gave you one final bite, right between your shoulder and neck, before ripping your panties completely from you. 

If you hadn't been so damn wet already, that alone would've been enough to get you dripping. The way he just effortlessly tore the lacy fabric from your body with a growl. His gaze was sinful as he pulled your hair back, chin pointing to his face.

"Open up," he ordered and you immediately obeyed, "Good girl," he uttered  satisfied as he stuffed your mouth with your panties, a guttural groan of pleasure escaping from him as he enjoyed the beautiful sight of you as a panting, drooling and moaning mess, begging for him to fuck you. He could cum just by looking at you like that, completely disheveled thanks to him.

He used one of his hands to raise your hips, the other one guiding his cock to your entrance, sucking in a breath as you sank down on his shaft.

"Oh– fuckin' hell, so bloody tight," he rasped and you could only moan loudly, the sounds muffled by the crumpled fabric in your mouth. 

He barely gave you time to adjust, grabbing your hips and guiding you up and down, your hands bracing yourself on his chest, hair falling all over your face. The sploshing sounds your wet cunt made whenever his cock entered you were loud and filthy, permanently ingrained in Price's memory, along with the way you shook and whined over him. 

You could hear him panting and hissing, strong legs giving you leverage as you rode him, feeling the tensing muscles of his chest against your hands, his own altering between running up your sides and your tits, giving them a hard squeeze, nipples hard against his palm.

"Bloody fuckin' hell, baby," he all but growled, "Such a good cunt for me. C'mere, wanna her you scream my name." He latched his hands onto the panties in your mouth, discarding then somewhere. 

The immediate lewd sounds that erupted from your mouth could surely be heard by anyone passing by the vicinity, but you found that you didn't quite care, thoroughly enjoying the way his dick twitched inside you as broken pleas of his name dripped from your mouth like honey, driving him to insanity.

"So f–fucking good," you cried, hips faltering as he hit a deep spot inside you that stung so good you could practically see stars.

"Those f–fuckin' bastards can't give it to ya like I can, hm?" Another sharp slap came down to your red, sore bum, sending you flying straight into his chest. He used the new angle to lift his thighs rapidly, pounding into you with vigor as you scratched his chest and shoulders, screaming his name, "That's right, need– need someone like me to fuck you j–just right…" His own voice was breaking, low grunts of pleasure coming out with his ragged breath as his cock disappeared inside you again and again.

"I–I'm close, s–sir… please… need t–to cum…" You buried your head on his neck, barely having the strength to hold yourself up. Not that you needed to, his big hands holding your hips locked in place as he hit a spot that had you reevaluating every single fuck you had before.

"Gonna cum on my cock like the dirty little whore you are, darling?" He nipped at your ear, going harder and deeper as you felt your high approaching. You couldn't even think straight enough to nod your head yes, biting his neck as you whimpered and squirmed, "Will you let me cum in you, hm? Fill up this pretty little pussy full of cum so you can walk around dripping? Fuck… you'd look so fuckin' pretty," he moaned the words through gritted teeth, legs shaking ever so slightly as his own orgasm started to build. He grabbed your chin harshly, fingers digging into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, his eyes narrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth as low grunts mixed with the sound of his thigh hitting your ass.

"Look at you," a moany laugh left his lips, mouth quivering up in a smug smirk, "So cock drunk for me, what would people think, hm? A pretty, smart lady like you– completely fuckin' ruined. Does it turn you on? Being put in your place and railed by your bloody professor?" That's all you needed to come undone above him, a string of incoherent babbles and broken cries of his name dancing out of your lips as you shook violently on his lap, hands coming down on his thigh to support yourself as the strongest orgasm you ever had washed through you. Head spinning in complete daze and disorientation.

You fell on top of him, body pliable like playdough as he continued to fuck into you, his own moans getting louder and out of breath as his own high came down on him.

"Oh shite– fuck, princess, let me cum in you. P–please…" The sound of this 6 foot man begging and writhing under you was nearly enough to get you ready for another round, if it weren't for your completely exhausted body. He didn't have to ask you twice as you moaned and nodded.

"F–Fill me up, sir, please. Want you to– to stuff me full of your cum." That was the only permission he needed as one his fingers dug into the flesh of your hip, sure to leave a bruise, his other hand moving from your face to your nape, gripping your hair and pulling you back. 

His head got lost in your neck, leaving bites all the way down to your breast, sucking on it hard and pulling your nipple between his teeth as he moaned, the gruff noises sending vibrations down your body as you felt him shake, burying himself inside you as a warm, thick liquid filled you to the brim, spilling down your leg and onto his lap. He desperately tried to catch his breath, resting on the seat with you on top of him, the sounds of your respiration the only thing you could hear along with distant sounds of sirens and cats from the city.

You both stood there for a minute, one of his hands coming down to your back as he brushed his fingers softly in a random pattern, sending small shivers through your body, his other hand still nestled in your hair, but now gently massaging your scalp, the sheer comfort of the movement would be enough to lull you to sleep in other circumstances. You also had your fingers on nis nape, playing with the little tips of his hair absentmindedly, head resting on the curve between his shoulder and his neck as you inhaled his scent, now a mix of sweat, his musky cologne and a bit of alcohol, you could get drunk alone through his smell, wanted to bottle it up and keep it to yourself forever.

"You okay, bunny? I hope I wasn't too rough with ya…" The low volume of his voice, a bit louder than a whisper, the obvious care that laced his words and the cute completely out of nowhere pet name made you melt into him even more. Your heart skipped a beat, a gentle sigh escaping your lips.

"You were perfect." You managed to get out amidst your dazzled state, your other hand squeezing his arm reassuringly. You felt his soft chuckle under you, his throat bobbing slightly with the sound before you felt him turn his head towards yours.

"I'm glad." Was all he said before planting a kiss so chaste, so caring and full of tenderness on your head you nearly passed out, unsure of how the man behind those soft lips and featherlight touch on your skin, as if he was afraid of tainting you, was the same one that fucked you senseless not even minutes ago. 

The sheer loving and innocent nature of his actions were almost enough to make you forget he was still balls deep in you, his liquid running down your sore thighs. You unglued yourself from him, looking down at the hot mess you made, the sight making you get wet all over again.

"That's quite the mess, innit?" You looked back at him, noticing the smirk and pure delight in his voice as he said it. You could feel his damn pride in the air, could see it in his eyes that he'd do it again ten times worse if he could. The thought alone sent you spiraling again.

"I'd offer to clean it up," you started, running your finger on a drop of his cum that ran down your thigh, taking it to your lips and locking eyes with him as you lapped it up, sucking your finger clean before removing it with a pop. The way his eyes darkened all over again, his cock twitched involuntarily inside you, made you smile in victory, "but my body would definitely give out and you'd be obligated to throw it in the river," you quipped and he just stared at you smiling, an odd, bewitched glimpse to his eyes, you felt even more vulnerable than when he was fucking you. 

"I won't let that happen," his hands brushed gingerly from your collarbones to your jaw, feeling your soft skin under his touch, he glanced down your lips, licking his, before going back up to your eyes, "I told ya I'd take care of you, didn't I?" 

You couldn't move away your sight from him, from his fucked out, half lidded look, the way his mustache was slightly wet still and his glasses fogged up near the bridge of his nose. Your mind was screaming for rest, but your body ached for him, for more. You unconsciously rolled your hips, relishing in how he threw his head back, exposing his neck, littered in purple blossoms, a hiss leaving his mouth, feeling his hand squeeze you involuntarily.

It'll be a long night. But perhaps, God doesn't hate you that much after all.

A/N: Whew, this was something. This absolute piece of filth and profanity was inspired by this lovely drawing and this video. I highly suspect that this concept will still make my imagination go wild, so expect perhaps a part 2?

Constructive criticism and feedback are always more than welcome! I hope you enjoyed reading~

Tag list: @thychuvaluswife

#cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #professor!au #professor price #smut #captain john price #call of duty #fanfic #one shot

[bambieyedoll]

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

professor!rick grimes x student!reader

“c’mon, doll” his deep voice called for you as you finished packing up your books. “let’s go home” his hand was extended to you and you smiled immediately, running to him and hiding your face on his chest in a big hug.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes moodboard #moodboard #twd moodboard #fanfic #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes twd #professor rick grimes #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes au #professor x reader #the walking dead fic #professor x student #the walking dead moodboard #twd #rick grimes fluff #professor!au #professor!rick #professor!rickgrimes #fanfic moodboard #andrew lincoln

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Not me imagining Professor! 141 + Phillip Graves fucking me in school (I'm a college student y'all) instead of studying Statics

I will fucking write this later

edit:

WORKING ON IT

Update:

This Prof!AU is frying my braincells

I think it's going to end up only the 141 though Idk how to put Graves although he was the one who inspired me to do this LMAO

#call of duty #cod 141 #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #cod mw2 #phillip graves #cod smut #gaz smut #ghost smut #soap smut #i hate school #professor!au

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Now It's Always Summertime

History Professor!Reader x Student!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You're just trying to get your thoughts together for the upcoming semester, but there are a few distractions.

Word Count: 850

Warnings: Mentions of getting high, student professor relationship, age gap everyone is over 18.

A/N: I watched a Tik Tok that had the right vibes and this came to mind so here you go. A little treat.

You poured the black liquid from your stove top coffee maker into your glass mug. Your favorite mug with a world map on it. The steam bellowed from both the maker and your now full mug. The overhead lights of the office were off leaving the strings of fairy lights that adorned the bookshelves behind you and the warm glow of your desk lamp as the only sources of light. A Golden pothos falling over the sides of the shelves like waterfalls.

The leather bound notebook sat on your desk with coffee ring stains from setting your mug atop of the blank page. You always thought it gave the page character when one found its way to a page. You transferred your thoughts from the newest edition of the history text book you received for this upcoming semester. 

Going over your previous semesters lesson plan and improving on it with the new text book in mind. You taught a few different classes and with the short summer semester coming to an end only to pick back up. Before you'd have time to do anything it would be Autumn with a chill in the air worthy of the hot cup you sipped on.

A knock against the open doorframe brought you from your thoughts. Looking up over your glasses, hair slipping past your ear as your head moved. Your two favorite students stood in your doorway, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Neither were history majors, but you seem to have captured their attention as they've now taken two of your classes. Your Western Civ I class along with your Mythology class. The two were already in your schedule for the Fall semester for Western Civ II and Wanda somehow snuck her way into your Norse mythology class. 

“What can I do for you girls?” You asked setting your pen down and picking up your mug, refilling it once more before taking a sip. The two girls stepped in and closed the door behind them. Natasha coming around to beside you and looking at the notes you took. 

“Is this for next semester?” The redheaded Russian asked as her finger ran over the words, a small smudge coming at the bottom where the fresh ink resided. You took her hand in your own after setting the mug down. Much like a mother would you licked one of your own fingers and used it to wipe the mark away on her finger.

“It is and I'd appreciate if my notes could stay intact. My thoughts are jumbled enough without you smudging them Tasha.” You looked up at the red head with a smirk plastered on your face and hers adorned a blush as Wanda came to your other side arms wrapping around your shoulders. 

“We wanted to know if we could help you with anything?” You felt her breath on the shell of your ear. Your attention moving from the Russian to the Sokovian. 

“I'm sure you two could be studying for your finals instead of coming to ask if I need help.” You raised an eyebrow to the brunette, the smirk still on your face as her forehead found your cheek. 

“Need some stress relief.” She murmured against you making a chuckle bubble up from your chest. Wanda let out a whine in protest of your chuckle. 

“Well she needs a stress relief. I'm getting high later.” Your head spun back to the redhead. 

“Without me? Rude.” Natasha started laughing along with you.

“Well I can bring it if you say we can come over tonight and then we can all have a good time.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows and tugged on your hand that was still in hers. Another whine falling past Wanda's lips is what made you give in. 

“Okay. Okay you two can come over. We'll get high and have some stress relief from finals for everyone's sake.” Both girls became excited at the thought of getting to come over. 

You lived a ways away from campus so you never worried about anyone seeing the girls come over since the three of you started up this throuple of yours at the beginning of the summer semester. 

The classes were smaller and the two girls had already caught your eye. Since neither was a history major you figured once they got their history credits you'd never see them again. The campus was huge and the history building was nowhere near where these two spent the rest of their day. Yet when you saw their names once more you knew you had to say something. So as the old saying goes; one thing led to another and here we are. 

You wrapped and arm around Wanda, pulling her into your lap where her face now buried its away into the crook of your neck. Natasha just leaned against you. More than content to have you against her stomach. You never thought this is where you'd be when you started teaching here, but you couldn't be more happy, more full, more loved than you are with these two in your life.

#ley writes #ley speaks #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x female #black widow #student!wanda #student!natasha #professor!reader #professor!au

[think0fmehigh]

morning, professor

professor!matty x female reader

morning sex with your old man bf :)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), dom!matty, sub!reader, face-sitting, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, sir kink, problematic age gap, breeding kink, spitting, cumplay, overstimulation, power play, this is wild lmao

wc: 2505

You wake up in his arms. Your back is flush against his chest, feather light kisses being peppered across your shoulders. A sleepy smile dawns your lips. 

“Good mornin’, sweet girl,” Matty mumbles, causing you to turn around in his embrace, already dying to see his pretty face. His thick morning voice sends chills down your spine. 

“Morning,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his in a frenzied kiss. You are a bit dazed, having had a bit of a thrilling dream last night involving the man you’re currently making out with. The feeling of his lips makes your heart thrum with anticipation, body warm with need. “I had a nice dream,” you whisper against his lips.

He hums, pulling away reluctantly and brushing your messy hair away from your face. “Did you?” The cloudy look in your eye earns you a knowing smirk. He chuckles. “Awake for three seconds and already needy.” He knows you too well.

You feel so safe in his bed, peering over his body to see snow falling down outside—a thick blanket of white covering the once vibrant landscape of his garden. You nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Always needy for you.” You’re irritated that you can’t crawl into his skin. Being close to him is some kind of earthly heaven. 

His comforting arms wrap around you even tighter. “I know, baby,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Wanna tell me what you were dreamin’ about?”

You softly whine in his neck, hips shifting when you think back to the dirty images that occupied your unconscious mind. “You,” you squeak, voice breathy. 

He fakes a shocked voice. “Me? What could I be doing in your dream, little one?” You feel wetness gathering in between your thighs already. 

You cling to him, tighter somehow. “You were making me feel really good, sir.” His heart beats faster against your ear. The steady rhythm lets you know this is real. He’s real and he adores you.

He lets out a little breath of air, then lays on his back, situating your body so you're on top of him. Your legs straddle his hips, front resting on his torso, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him hardening underneath you. You rest your chin on your hands as you gaze up at him, already docile and aching for him. 

Matty strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb. You lean into his touch. “Was I taking good care of that pretty pussy, angel?” A soft moan spills out of you in response. You nod. His thumb drags down to your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly then letting it snap back into place. “Mmm, my dirty little girl…fuck.” 

You lean your head down, littering kisses on his inked chest, absentmindedly grinding your hips against his crotch. He’s got nothing but boxers on, and you’re clad in nothing but one of his sweaters. He’d ripped your panties in a fight to quickly get them off last night—but it gave you an excuse to go to sleep bare and ready to be filled whenever he pleases. Your exposed, wet cunt surely leaves a wet spot on his briefs. 

“Sit on my face, baby,” he grunts, the mere thought causing him to buck his hips up into you. Your thighs clamping on either side of his head, suffocating him in your soaked pussy as you moan, fucked-out above him. Your juices covering his mustache and stubble, claiming him as yours—using his tongue to get off, grinding that sweet cunt against his mouth. He’s done for. “Please.” 

You take your lower lip between your teeth, growing even wetter.  “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He purses his lips, placing a firm hand on your jaw. His sleepy eyes bore into yours. Your amused expression quickly falls into one with your lips parting dumbly. “Don’t tease, I feel how fucking wet you are. Fuckin’ dripping on me—shit, let me taste you,” he groans, “Wanna make you cum, darlin’.” You let out a shaky breath, mind narrowing in on the way his hands feel against your skin. His touch lingers. You’re afraid it always will.

His hands find the hem of your (his) sweater, pulling it over your head and revealing your waiting tits. He drags his fingers delicately up your soft skin, index and thumb on each hand pinching your peaked nipples, rolling them between his rough calluses. 

You whine, scooting yourself up a bit so your cunt is resting on his bare chest. “Please, need you, sir. Need your mouth.” 

“Come up here then, be a good girl,” he growls, hands moving to grip your ass, coercing your hips forward until your pussy is hovering above him. He doesn’t wait a second, pulling you down to meet his hungry tongue. 

White, hot pleasure cascades through your belly and legs, toes curling in delight. His mouth moves with blistering enthusiasm, deft tongue lapping at your wetness—the two of you moaning in sync. “Matty, fuck…”

He chuckles against your pussy, gripping your hips tighter, pulling you down closer to his face. Your left hand finds its place in his curls, tugging at his gray roots. Your right digs into the satin pillow beside you. 

“I’d gladly fuckin’ die suffocating in this cunt.” His words are muffled by your thighs and the lewd sounds of your arousal. You feel light-headed, that familiar tightness building in your body with each lick and touch from the man below you. “My pretty baby.” 

He dips his tongue down, teasing your entrance. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. Bruises will surely blossom on your skin in a day or two, keeping this moment frozen in time. 

“Feels so good, sir, always making me feel so good,” you babble, beginning to instinctively rut your hips against his mouth. Matty starts to steadily pump his tongue in and out of your dripping hole, nose bumping your clit with every movement. You pull on his curls a little more, making him groan into your cunt. You grind down harder on his tongue. “Please, don’t stop, please, ‘m gonna cum.”

He goes faster, sucking and licking at your cunt like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. “Let go f’me,” he says between heavy pants, trailing his tongue up and down your folds before curling his lips around your clit, sucking the bud into his warm mouth. His tongue is as brilliant as his overflowing mind. 

Your body buzzes with euphoria, legs shaking above him as your orgasm rips through you. “God, shit—thank you, sir.” He licks up your arousal, guiding you through your high with diligence. You know he could stay buried there forever, but your swollen clit begs for mercy when the aftershocks subside. “Mmh, Matty, too much.” 

He slows the assault of his tongue and uses his arms to help you off his face. You settle your naked cunt on his chest, gazing down at him; you’re glowing from head to toe. Whether it be from the orgasm or the morning sun, you’ll never know. His face is glistening with your wetness, mustache coated in your juices. You memorize the image, hoping to grasp onto it forever. Hoping he’s yours, forever.

“So beautiful, darling.” He licks his puffy lips, hands once again finding their way to play with your tits. “‘M gonna fuck this greedy little pussy. Need you drippin’ with my cum.” 

He blows cold air onto your sensitive cunt. You whine, scooting yourself back so your ass presses against his hard-on. “Then do it, you know I’m yours to fucking ruin.”

Matty smirks, grabbing your hips and rolling the two of you over, trapping you underneath him. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down to kiss you with a hand on the back of his neck. He licks into your mouth, moaning, pressing his clothed erection against your cunt. “Sir, I want your cock. Please, fuck me—use me to get off,” you whimper into his mouth, immediately convincing him to shift his body and peel off his boxers. 

His hard, leaking cock—the tip an angry red—slaps against his stomach as he settles over you again, letting you cling to him like a little lost puppy. He leans down, lips brushing against the skin just below your ear. “Good girl, beggin’ so pretty. So polite.” 

“Please,” you breathe, eyes glazing over. He finally grips the base of his cock, nudging the head against your clit. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him close to you as he moves his tip to your entrance, sliding his cock into your aching cunt. He grunts, pressing his forehead to yours, bottoming out. Your jaw goes slack, hanging open as you look into his eyes. His cock stretches you out perfectly, every inch filling your pussy. 

“Taking me so well, sweet girl. Squeezin’ me so tight—Jesus Christ,” he lets out an airy laugh, leaning down to kiss you. After a moment, Matty pulls out slightly, just to plow back into you with a moan. You mewl, arching your back into his chest, begging for more, more, more.

“Matty, fuck, please—harder!”

He sucks in a breath, looking down at your wrecked state. His hands grip your legs, pulling them off his waist and setting them onto his shoulders. He practically folds you in on yourself, stuffing his cock even deeper inside you. “Whatever my little girl wants.” 

He moves his hips, pumping his hard cock in and out of your leaking cunt. Your nails scratch down his shoulders as your eyes roll into the back of your head. His hot breath fans over your face as he fucks into you, panting above you. You clench around him, whining, legs pushed into your chest. A thin layer of sweat coats both of you. “Always so good for me, baby. Fucking made to please me, hm?” 

“Y-Yes sir, fillin’ me up so nice.” He smiles, reaching his left thumb up to tap on your bottom lip. 

“Open your mouth,” he huffs, thrusting harder, chasing his own pleasure. “Open your mouth for me.”

You do as he says, sticking your tongue out for him. He angles his mouth above you and lets a string of his spit drip down onto your tongue. His hand holds your jaw, forcibly closing it as he lets out another moan from deep in his chest. “Yeah, fucking swallow, that’s it. You’re mine.”

You swallow, crying out, “Yours, m’yours!” 

He takes his lower lip between his teeth, using the same thumb as before to rub at your bundle of nerves. His tongue licks down your jaw to your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth; he bites at it, surely leaving possessive, plum-colored marks. He soothes each love bite with a kiss, filling your heart with adoration. His antics don’t stop, still trailing his mouth down to your tits, flicking his tongue over a nipple before curving his lips around it. 

Euphoria flows through your body, your second orgasm threatening to come at any moment. “I’m gonna cum, sir—gonna cum for you—please, I—”

All he does is snap his hips into yours with an even more brutal pace, chuckling as he moves his mouth over to your other nipple. “Cum,” he murmurs against your skin.

You squeeze your walls around his length, cumming with a scream. Your fingers find his hair, pulling at his locks as he fucks you through it, thumb still rubbing at your clit with vengeance. He wants to break you. 

“Fuck! Matty, ohmygod,” you cry, the intense pleasure turning into an overwhelming sensation. You close your eyes, seeing stars.

“Shh, m’almost there, gonna fill you up. My good girl, so fucking perfect for me,” he coos, thumb still not letting up on your clit—hips never slowing. “Cum again for me, soak my cock, I know you can do it, sweetheart.”

A tear slips down your cheek and he kisses it away. “I can’t, sir, fuck! I can’t!” The pain blooms into more intoxicating pleasure.

“Yes you can, go on, baby, let go again,” he hisses in your ear, launching you to your third orgasm of the morning. Your back is arched, bare chest pressed to his, tears spilling out of your eyes as you cum; body falling limp under him. Your whining and the feeling of you cumming around him not once, but twice, has him spilling his warm load into you with a broken cry. His hips slow to a halt, stilling inside you. “Oh fuck, good girl, good fucking girl.”

He buries his face in your neck, collapsing on top of your flushed body. Your pussy is filled to the brim with cum, making you let out a satisfied sigh. He releases your legs from the fixed position they had on his shoulders. 

You both catch your breaths and your fingers card through his hair, massaging his scalp to ground him. He needs it just as much as you do. 

Matty lifts his head a few minutes later, beaming at you. He kisses your nose. “You okay, honey?” He brushes your hair out of your face with his fingers, his heart warming when you smile back at him. 

“M’very okay. More than okay,” you slur, sleepily, nodding when he motions to his softening cock inside you. You wince at the feeling of him pulling out, eyes fluttering shut from the sudden emptiness. A mixture of both your cum slowly drips out of your cunt and onto the sheets, captivating your boyfriend every time without fail. 

He hums, dragging his thumb through your folds. 

“Matty,” you moan, half-moon eyes staring at his mischievous smirk. 

“You love it when I fill up this little pussy, yeah?”

You nod, head falling back even further in the pillows. Your legs and hips twitch when he drags two fingers up your inner thigh teasingly, your body trying to escape his torment. His fingers tease your hole, his body acting as a barrier, keeping you from closing your legs. 

“Little breedin’ whore, fuck. You want every drop of my cum, huh? Bet you’d love it if I got your belly all swollen f’me.” His digits enter you and he slowly fucks his cum back into your pussy—all you can do is lay there and whine. You're utterly devoted to him, so grateful he chose to completely devour your innocence. You babble incessant pleas, begging him for everything yet nothing at all. 

“So shameful…letting your professor fuck a baby into you…” he chuckles, his free hand petting your hair. He finally shows mercy, removing his fingers and letting you close your legs with a whimper. Your mind is nothing but mush. 

Matty takes the two soaked fingers, pushing them past his lips. He swirls his tongue around them, tasting the both of you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“S’a very good morning, sweetheart.”

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #the 1975 smut #moll’s writing #professor!au

[mabelstone]

Teachers Pet

matt stone x reader

summary: part four of Professor Stone.

words: 2144

note: i’m not sure if this is what you wanted, but i felt like writing some angst for this one. minor warnings of explicit content. minor humiliation kink and consensual choking.

my absolute fav, mean!dom matt.

here's my masterlist for the previous chapters.

enjoy <3

The way he looked at you that lesson made you feel sick. You walked in and sat at your usual spot, your professor entering just on time as always. Instead of chirping his usual, “morning,” to the class, he dropped his things onto his desk and sighed. He glanced in your direction briefly and you smiled at him. He quickly looked away, expression not changing at all. Okay, maybe he had a bad morning? You knew he had a good night, so what changed in the last 12 hours?

“I’ll wait,” he sighed grumpily, waiting for the class’ murmurs to die down. He looked down and fiddled with his pen as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The class eventually got the hint, the room quickly growing silent. “Great. Today we’re revising chapter 30. Your exam is in two weeks, so I want there to be no talking, and everyone is to pay attention.”

His tone was flat and his face was expressionless. He grabbed out a whiteboard marker and began writing equations on the board. Your classmates looked at each other in confusion, raising their eyebrows, mouthing, “I don’t know?” at one another. The class listened, nobody even whispering to their friends.

You were so confused as to why he was acting this way, but you decided that you didn’t want to make it worse. Yet, on the other hand… You could have some fun with this.

“Alright. Let’s see who studied.” He mischievously smirked, turning to face the silent class. “Who can explain this equation to me?”

Some students raised their hands unconfidently, the professor pointing to a random student. They explained the equation in a voice slightly too soft for his liking.

“Speak up,” he huffed, leaning on the edge of his desk. You knew it was fucked up, but there was something so sexy about him being so pissed. The student cleared their throat before perfectly explaining the equation, you of course barely understood as your tutoring sessions didn’t consist of much tutoring.

“Good. That’s one of you that actually listens,” he chuckled to himself dryly, continuing to scribble more scenarios onto the board. Everyone nervously copied down what he was writing, but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him.

You sat forward on your elbows, admiring the way he used his hands a little too much when he explained things, the way he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair or trailed his fingers over his stubble.

He rolled his eyes when he saw you were the only one not doing your work, quietly walking over to your desk. “This is why you don’t perform well,” he seethed, eyes dark and angry. He spoke only loud enough so you could hear.

“I’m sorry sir, I-“

“Save it,” he cut you off, angrily opening your book for you and roughly placing your pen in your hand. “You need to try, Y/N, or I won’t help you anymore.” He threatened as he began to walk away.

“Oh please, we both know you don’t wanna give that up.” You retorted back like a smart ass, making him stop in his tracks. You really shouldn’t have said that. He turned back to glare at you, the anger inside him only growing fiercer when he saw the cocky smirk on your lips.

He shook his head and walked back up to the front to write a new equation on the board. “Okay!” He clapped his hands together loudly, startling the entire class. “Hmmm..” He pretended to scan the class to ‘randomly’ pick a student, finger pressed to his lip. “Y/N, can you come up and complete this please?”

Your heart dropped when he fired the same cocky smirk your way, waiting expectantly for you to get out of your seat. You did, your legs nearly giving out on the short walk to the whiteboard. He handed you the marker with a deadpan stare, motioning to the board.

Your face was hot, you couldn’t believe he would do this to you. You picked the wrong day to give him attitude. You took a deep breath and uncapped the marker, shaky hands travelling to the board. You filled in the equation to the best of your ability, your professors' stare boring holes into peripheries. “I-I’m stuck,” you spoke to him hushed, giving him a pleading look.

“What was that?” He asked loudly, eyes gleaming meaner than before.

You closed your eyes and sighed before repeating yourself slightly louder, “I’m not sure what comes next.”

“Maybe you should ask a classmate,” he feigned sympathy, his lips quirking up into a condescending grin.

You turned to the class, fighting hard to not tear up from embarrassment. You opened your mouth but no words came out. The whole class felt bad for you, shocked at your professors' unprofessionalism.

He sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that lesson and turned to the other students. “Can anyone please help her?”

“I will,” one of the nice boys you’d interacted with a few times spoke up, walking up to you with apologetic eyes. He took the marker and explained to you and the class what came next and how he got the answer.

He was quite cute, bleached blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. You knew he was doing a film degree and also taking this class for the extra credits. You couldn’t remember his name for the life of you, though. He turned to you and smiled once finishing, placing the pen back in your hands.

“Thank you,” you blushed, smiling wide at his kind gesture. “That was so sweet.”

You both walked back to your seats, exchanging another smile before sitting back down. Matt’s plan to humiliate you had worked, and then backfired on him completely.

As the class ended, you grabbed your things and began heading out; a big change from staying back after every lesson. You looked back at your professor who’s eyes were locked on you, following you to the nice boy from earlier.

“Um, thank you again for that,” you smiled sweetly, gently placing your hand on his arm. “You really saved me there, I owe you one.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “I don’t know why he did that, he’s an asshole.”

You laughed in agreement, unaware of the jealousy boiling in Matt’s stomach.

“If you ever need a hand with studying, I’m happy to help.” He offered with a genuine smile.

“Thank you! Here, give me your number,” you handed your phone to him, Matt’s hands balling into fists at his side. Trey was his name. You texted a smiley face to his number and thanked him again before saying your goodbyes.

Before you were able to reach the door, your professor spoke up. “Y/N.”

You turned around to face him, letting the door shut behind you. “Yes?” You grumbled, arms folding in front of you.

“Come here,” he commanded, pulling a chair up by his desk.

You cursed your legs for obediently dragging you to the front of the hall, stopping yourself in front of his desk.

“Care to explain what the fuck that was?” He growled, his stance mirroring yours but somehow... angrier?

“What do you mean,” you laughed exasperatedly, “you mad your little stunt to embarrass me didn’t work?”

“You really need to watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, stepping toward you. You felt intimidated, but tried not to show any sign of it. “It’s gonna get you in trouble some day.”

“Well maybe I’ll just get help from Trey from now on,” you spat back, legs weakening as he stepped even closer, face only inches from yours now.

“Don’t forget who marks your papers.”

You scoffed in disbelief, taking a step back from him. Amusement painted your face when you realised, “you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous,” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his desk. “But I’m not gonna fuck you while somebody else is.”

As toxic as it may be, this new side of Matt turned you on like crazy. Seeing him all riled up over exchanging numbers with someone… you couldn’t imagine how he’d react if you did something actually worth being jealous over.

“Why do you even care?” You laughed in his face, trying to ignore the arousal forming between your hips. You stepped toward him again, close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. “You act like you don’t even like me. I think you just want to fulfil your sick fantasies with me.”

He didn’t like that. He grabbed your throat and flipped you around, the back of your hips roughly slamming into the desk behind you. A strangled moan escaped your lips as he towered over you with rage.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” he growled, pushing your back onto the desk and separating your legs before stepping between them.

You whimpered under his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to capture him in a heated kiss. “So desperate,” he tsked, pulling away.

He let go of your throat and pulled your shorts down, revealing white lace panties with a pink bow stitched into them. He prodded at the wet patch forming in the front, pulling them to the side and licking a stripe up your clit without warning. You gasped at the feeling, lifting yourself up on your elbows to watch him. He looked breathtaking. his eyelashes fluttering as he focused on making you feel good. You weren’t gonna last long, not with a sight like that. He moved his head down slightly to thrust his skilled tongue inside of you, his nose brushing your clit in just the right way. Once he added his fingers, it was over for you.

You felt your breathing pick up, your whines growing higher in pitch. “Professor,” you moaned, thighs trembling as they barricaded his skull in place. Just as you were about to finish, he removed his fingers and that godly tongue, stepping back.

You whined in frustration, on the verge of tears for the second time. He simply shushed you with a smirk, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

He pulled out his cock and you went limp. You’d been imaging how he’d feel for a while, and now you were getting impatient. He spat on his hand, stroking himself before lining his cock up with your hole, a hand forcefully gripping your hip. You roughly gripped his shoulders, begging, “please, sir, please.”

With a grin, he slowly pushed himself in, letting out a low groan at the feeling of your wet, tight entrance. He slowly thrusted for a moment, picking up his pace once you’d both adjusted.

Your eyes began rolling back, screaming obscenities. He was quick to place a hand over your lips, mouthing shut up with a stern look. You whimpered under his touch, rhythmically moving your hips with his. Hand still over your mouth, he laid his body forward, practically on top of you as he annunciated with every thrust, “don’t… you… dare… disrespect me… again.”

He was so thick, stretching you wonderfully as a tear rolled down your cheek, the ecstasy becoming overwhelming. He thought you looked beautiful like this, eyebrows knitted together, switching between wide eyed when he’d hit your g spot, and eyes screwed tightly shut when the pleasure became too intense.

He uncovered your mouth, demanding, “apologise.”

If he wasn’t balls deep in you right now, you would’ve laughed in his face and told him to shut it. But, you were too worried he’d pull out and end this pleasure train you were on.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered through tears, nails digging deep into his biceps.

“Say it like you mean it, pretty girl,” he commanded, thrusting into you deeper, biting his finger to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

You felt the familiar heat pooling in your stomach, and you were close to losing yourself all over him.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, his hand reaching down to your clit, tracing small circles into it, pushing you over the edge. You came undone around him, your pussy pulsating hard as you continued whimpering through your orgasm, eyes screwed shut as you chanted, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry.”

Without thinking, he came inside you, burrying his face into your shoulder, biting down as he did. You were both seeing stars, trying hard to steady your breathing.

He pulled out slowly, watching the mixture of his cum and your slick drip out of you deliciously.

“And that shit you said earlier,” he began, voice deep and husky, “about me not liking you,” he pulled his pants back up and redid his belt. You sat up, cheeks flushed, pulling your underwear back on. “You’ve always been my favourite.”

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #south park #trey parker #trey parker x reader #baseketball #matt stone smut #doug remer #doug remer x reader #matt and trey #professor!au #mean!dom matt stone

[backtothefanfiction]

Kinktober '23 | DAY 4: Sit Still

Prompt: Cock Warming

Summary: It's very hard to sit still when you're sat in Professor Parker's lap.

Warnings: SMUT, cock warming, teasing, edging, pantie pocketing

Word Count: 351

A/N: Another short one today. For all those who wanted a bit more Professor Parker here's just a teaser of things to come regarding longer short stories within this scenario.

“Sit still.” He berates. You’re grateful your head is turned away from him, as you are sure if he saw the way you frustratedly rolled your eyes, he’d find a way to punish you.

I mean this whole situation was punishment enough as it was. You wanted to be fucked, not sit here on his cock teasingly, but noooo he had papers to grade. Your thoughts and emotions make you involuntarily move again and you freeze, tense in anticipation, waiting for his berating words.

“If you can’t sit still, you can go back to sitting over there to wait. ” He says, referring to the old hard leather couch sat along the back wall of his office.

“No. I can do it. I can do it.” You say to him but also yourself. But as your mind begins to wander again as you think on the fact you are currently sat locked in his office with him, sitting keeping his cock warm for him while he sits and grades papers, anyone could knock on the door to talk to him any minute, the risk of getting caught, you’re cunt involuntarily fluttered around his length.

“That’s it. Get off.” He says. Not intimidating but still forceful as he turns his swivel chair, giving you space to move. 

“Uhhh what?” You whine as you turn to face him.

“And just for that you can say goodbye to that extra credit.”

“Uhhh Peter.”

“Ah ah ah.” He says as he waves his pen in front of you.

“Please Professor.” You plead, all big eyes and pouty lips. “You just feel so good inside me.”

“Nope. I told you what would happen, now go sit over there.”

You go to pick your panties up off the floor as you move back towards the leather chesterfield but he stops you again. “Uh, uh. Hand ‘em over.” He holds his hands out for them expectantly.

You roll your eyes again as you slap them into his open palm. “Thank you, now go sit down. I’m almost done.” He says pocketing your panties and going back to his work.

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kINkToBEr taG LiST

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[thewritersaddictions]

Request- (RE8) Karl Heisenberg: Needy Little Girl

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: Hiding your crush on your English teacher seems to fail when he makes you stay after class.

Warnings: Smut, Consensual, needy behavior, sluty behavior, BJs, PinV, a little cursing. Fluffy smut, fluff.

A/N: This is for anon; I know you sent this request a while ago. I promise it was worth the wait. Thank you for the request; remember, the inbox is always open!

WC: 1.9k

Requests Master List // Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List

You wish you could start the day the way you ended it. The college class fills quickly, but you’re always early. You’re always waiting for him to come stalking through the doorway, smelling cigar smoke and burnt wood. 

Your professor is a massive hunk of man. Large arms that make the white collared shirts he wears bulge and give way with every movement he makes. Long legs that are framed in jeans, hugging his ass and showing off everything else in the process. 

That booming voice has you squeezing your thighs together, but the reality is you leave that class every single day with a ruined pair of panties, and when you get back to your dorm, there are only thoughts of him when you slip your hand down the front of your tight jeans. 

You should focus on the lecture, but you can’t get your mind or your eyes to focus on the computer screen before you. All you see is your professor pacing back and forth in front of the chalkboard. The loud booming voice that soothes you into a sweet lul mutters about something to do with your new essay project. “Please remember that we may make fun of Shakespeare and his many stories, but they all have a great deal of meaning and foreshadowing. I want you to write something that…” His words stop momentarily, and his eyes gaze over the lecture hall. Your ankles are crossed, and you sit a little higher when his graze hits you. Feeling hot all over, you don’t back down, “Write something that can grasp the reader’s attention in just that way. Write the trauma that is the indecision.” He finally finishes, drops his gaze from me, and returns his attention to the chalkboard. 

You wonder momentarily if anyone else feels the heat and tension you always feel when he’s looking at you. Eventually, you have to return your attention to your blank Google Doc. The bright screen hurts your eyes, and nothing comes into your brain except explicit thoughts of your professor—your much older, hotter professor. 

An hour later, when the class has come to an end, every single other person has picked their shit up and packed it away into their bags. You’re stuck writing because you eventually did get the words to form in your head. A cough draws you from your thoughts and the screen before you. When you look up, he’s standing there staring at you. 

“Miss, L/n? Class is over.” He says. You nod and start to pack your things. Closing your laptop, but yet again, you’re met with his eyes staring into you. Making your skin burn, “Miss, L/n, I need to talk with you.” Your professor says, even though you’re so close to the damn door you have to turn around and go right back to the man that makes your legs wobble, and your heart beat faster. “Yes Professor Heisenberg.” You say as you hold the remaining books tightly against your chest. “I need to talk to you about something private, and this lecture hall needs to be used in the next ten minutes, so follow me to my private office so we can talk there.” You nod, and wait for your professor to grab his own bag and laptop. You follow next to him, the sound of sneakers squeaks, and little kittens heels fill the air in the hallway. Walking with him has your cheeks warm, and knowing that you’re going to be in his private office. 

Alone. 

Alone with a hot, older professor that has you ruining panties, and squeezing your thighs so tightly that you hope the dull ache goes away. Your professor stops making you bump into him. If your fantasy didn’t already have you thinking he was a strong, beefy man then bumping into him surely made all your fantasy come true. The key jingles against the lock letting you in first. You sit down, and wait until you see Professor Heisenberg move around the desk and sit in the chair on the other side. 

The air is thick and unspoken tension, so you’re the one to break it. “Um… sir, why did we need to talk?” You ask your books now resting on your lap, your legs crossed, and you back pressed up against the back of the chair. “I wanted to talk to you about… um” his words die in his throat and for the first time your professor seems completely amiss. A loss for words is something you’ve never seen on the man before. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask worry etching into your soft features. “No you haven’t. God no, I just.. you..” He’s a mumbling mess in front of you. “Professor, maybe I should come back some other time.” That’s what you say, not that that is what you’re thinking. 

Being in his lecture hall is enough, watching him pace is enough, but now you’re here in his private office. The word private keeps blinking in your mind, his private office that smells more of cigars and burnt coffee. Where his degree hangs on the wall and the papers scatter the hardwood top of his desk. He rolls his lips together, and then looks towards you. 

There’s something behind those eyes. Like a cat got his tongue, then all the sudden the words fall from his very kissable mouth. “You Y/n are an absolute distraction for me.” Your brows shot up with a little bit of hurt mixed in, “Oh no not like that darlin’ I’m saying that having you in my class makes everything ten times harder to focus on, because all I can see out of the corner of my eye is you. Clenching those thighs together as you try to focus on your screen, but I catch you staring at me all the time. Those beautiful eyes lost in la-la land. What are you thinking about huh?” Your shoulders drop, and embarrassment courses through your body. You’ve been caught, but it seems that your day dreams, and fantasies were not one sided. You place your bag on the floor, and let your books fall as you get up from across the desk. “I’m thinking of you Professor Heisenberg. About what these large hands do to my body. How your touch would feel. I think about you all the damn time. I’m so needy for you.” You mutter the last part. Holding his hands feeling the weight of them in your own much smaller ones. 

You can feel the ruined panites, soaking through your jeans. Heisenberg's eyes glaze over, and something shifts in the room, from tension to desire. He’s quick to meet you halfway around the desk. He stands so much taller than you, then the way he man-handles you to sit on the side of the desk has you wish you could strip off all your pieces of clothing right then and there. 

“”I’m so fucked…” He whispers before taking your lips with his. There’s a fight, but you both know that you’ll be giving yourself over to your professor in a matter of minutes. Your arms wrap around his wide shoulders balancing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss further. He seems to notice, and takes a second of your precious time together and picks you up plopping you onto the desk. In the same motion his hands are digging into your jeans and yours are trying to get his belt undone. “By the way, buttercup call me Karl, not professor or heisenberg. I wanna hear you moan my name when you cum. His words make you fumble with his belt, but he seems to be able to do two things at once because your jeans are already unbuttoned and his hand is reaching into cup your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ hell wet are the damn river. Is this what you go through every day, hmm such a poor baby.” He teases, but that's all the teasing he does. He’s far to desperate for forplay and your thankful because the next set of words that were gonna come out of your mouth were gonna be ‘if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might explode.’ Karl helps you the rest of the way with your shirt, bra and then he helps himself to ripping himself out of the slacks, and his button up. 

Leaning back you hit a few objects on the way down. “Um… Karl can we move some of this stuff?” You ask your voice shy and timid. “Of course.” With one big sweep of his arm the objects fly to the floor, the name plague landing with a thund, and the stapler clicking to the floor. “Thank you.” He hums, and returns his attention to your body. 

Nipples hard waiting to be played with. Pussy soaked and yearning to be touched, he kisses you first. You can feel the weight of his cockd sitting against your thigh, and when you look down you aren’t surprised to get the feeling that it might not fit. Karl can sense your unease. “Don’t worry buttercup, we’ll make it fit won’t we.” He says as he taps the tip of his cock to your sensitive clit. All your worry fades away as your body heats up like flame in an oven. It’s not until the tip of his cock notches at your entrance do you look back up at him. There’s a devilish smirk written all over his face, and you can’t help but drag him down to meet your lips, wrapping your legs around his hips, and pulling him fully in. 

There’s no waiting, no making sure he fits, or going easy. The pain only fuels the urge for him to almost pull all the way out and push right back in. The lamp that didn’t land on the floor from the desk shakes, and your moans start to fill the small office. He doesn’t even put a hand over your mouth to cover your screams of ecstasy. A large thumbs sitting over your clit, pulling tight circles over it pushing you over the edge, and as you go Karl thrust becomes harder and faster. He’s pushing himself to catch up with you. 

If he was a gentleman he would have prepped you, taken you out to dinner before fucking you like an absolute animal but a part of him thinks that how you like it. Being taken, whisked away and fucked for all to hear. Hell someone could knock or just burst in at any moment. Your tits bounce with every erratic thrust, your nails dragging against the back of his neck. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again.” You scream and it’s Karls undoing. Tight, wet, warm walls squeeze him tightly, barely letting him leave to thrust back into your warm heat. “Fuck me Karl, just like that!” 

Your chest rises and falls as you both try to catch your breath, sweaty, and sticky from sex. The room smells like it too, but that alright especially when Karl reaches over your body still deep inside you to grab a few tissues to clean you up the best he can. “By the way” You say in a huff. “You can call me Y/n.” You say sarcastically, as if the moment here will ever happen again. “I will darlin’.” He says with a wink.

Completed on: 03/29/24

Posted on: 04/05/24

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