#professor!andy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flordeamatista · 2 years

Text

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚

pairing: soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering, fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited, power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)

a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.

the cute gif and moodboard made by me

line divider: @s-tarksintern

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming

Masterlist

His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire

After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.

As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you.

It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.

Now, who do you break your rules for?

"Professor Barber..."

You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.

You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded. Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.

Your email glared back at you, taunting you :

Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.

The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.

Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.

You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.

Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.

A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart.

As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.

In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email."

Nervously, you swallowed.

How could you be so stupid to send him that email?

It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.

"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."

The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs.

You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”

You paused.

Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"

It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.

"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.

You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt.

"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.

Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel the wetness that was his.

"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."

You lost control from the the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman.

"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.

Was this an exam of desire?

"You are such a-"

Your insult cut short by a harsh slap.

The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire.

"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.

But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.

The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.

"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter.

Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."

Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send” The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.

You are sober but drunk with desire. His desire. His attention.

You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.

A man who just needed you.

With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.

"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.

In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.

His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body

"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"

You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him.

Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.

“Professor…”

"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"

“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat.

You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.

“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.

A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.

“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."

You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy.

Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.

"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.

“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.”

You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut

Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.

Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.

Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat.

You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.

Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.

Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair.

He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.

The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.

The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.

"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"

He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy.

His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.

“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end.

You knew his game of seduction.

You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.

“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.

The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.

“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut

The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.

“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”

“Please…” you begged.

"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"

Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.

He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.

Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.

It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop."

Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "

It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.".

Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.

"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.

A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?"

You couldn’t answer him. You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.

Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on.

You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.

To know what is his, he needs to see it.

In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.

Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.

4K notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Note

This picture has ruined me. Now I need a fic with Bucky as your professor banging you in the library during regular hours.

clear your mind

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

words: 7.5k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. public sex. cockwarming. student/teacher relations. possible age gap depending on how you read it (reader is at least 25 or older but it’s not really specified and bucky is late 30s or older but again, not specified. imagine whatever you like.) i added an alternate kind of darkish ending that is separated with a divider near the end (duh) but of course you can choose to not read it and stick to the original cute ending lol. if i’m missing anything you feel needs to be added, please let me know.

notes: disclaimer: i never technically went to college so i don’t really know what i’m writing about lmao but when i say this was instant inspo, i mean instant. i’ve been in such a funk since i lost chapter four of keeping secrets, but this really ignited something in me so i just went for it. it was originally gonna be a little smutty drabble but then i started writing and it just became a whole one shot - not that i’m complaining lol. this was so fun to write, thank you @sammyisfat for sending it in! 🖤 i hope you all enjoy it! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated. and thank you in advance for reading and reblogging!

You were sitting hunched over, eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly, trying to force yourself to focus. You were reading the words but you weren’t really putting them together. You were too bored to make them make sense. Your brain was far off and you were sure you were about to burn out completely at this point.

Why you thought going back to school after so long was a good idea was beyond you. Was the degree really worth it? You’d gotten this far without one, hadn’t you?

As you were contemplating your life choices, and working on convincing yourself to just screw it and drop out, you’d failed to notice the presence of two of your professors passing by.

You had been alone at the far back of the library, closed in by the sturdy cases of books around you, for so long you’d nearly forgotten you were actually there. You had needed solitude, lest the chatter of other students in study groups or working on projects distract you further than your mind already did on its own. Your back was to the open aisle so as not to get distracted by anyone passing by, either. The zone you were occupying was normally a hot spot, but on a Wednesday afternoon, not so much. And for that you were grateful.

The knock on the bookcase next to you accompanied by your name being called, almost in question, startled you as you quickly corrected your posture and looked toward the noise, adjusting the glasses you were wearing as you did. You were greeted with two pairs of blue eyes looking back at you. Standing next to the bookcase, waiting for your response were two of the most lusted after professors on campus. And that wasn’t just you thinking so. The way students fawned over both Mr. Barber and Barnes was near juvenile. They were like kids gossiping about their crushes in elementary school. It was always funny to you seeing the line of people waiting to speak with Andy at the end of class every Wednesday and Friday, whether they had a genuine question to ask or not. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, though. He had great hair, a soft smile, kind eyes.. He was gorgeous. It was clear why so many people had a thing for him. But you always found yourself a little more than preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Barnes. Though they were both at least six foot tall and unfairly attractive, easy enough to spread your attention between both of them, as most of their students did, there was just something about James that had you in a hold since the first day you met him.

It was your first day on campus and you’d accidentally bumped into him with your green tea as you were leaving the small corner cafe after your first morning class. You apologized profusely, but he’d claimed it was his fault, that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He insisted on buying you a new drink as he removed his tea damp jacket. You didn’t fight him on it, walking back into the cafe as he held the door for you. You introduced yourselves as you waited for the drinks to be made and spoke a bit. It wasn’t a super long interaction, both of you having places you had to be, but you would have sworn there was something there. And the glimmer in his eye as he smiled and told you he’d see you around convinced you it wasn’t one sided. You were instantly smitten, hopeful you would see him again, that maybe it could lead to getting to know him better, lead to something more.

That was until you walked into your afternoon class the next day to find him standing at a podium, setting up his orientation slides. You had been hoping all day to run into him, but this was certainly not how you’d been imagining the circumstances. Of course he was your professor. You breathed a humorless laugh to yourself as you found a seat. You got your laptop out and looked back up at the same time he looked up from his, making direct eye contact with him. You saw the instant he recognized you and gave him a tight lipped smile that he returned before you diverted your gaze back down. His look of disappointment matched your own, but at the very least, it made you feel wanted.. The “professor x student” trope was never really your cup of tea, but as the weeks went by, the stolen glances and secret longing stares you exchanged were starting to change your mind. After one particular heated night of self pleasure, absentmindedly picturing him while you were reveling in your own touch, imagining it was his, you knew you were really gone for him. And heaven help you, the idea of it really happening was growing hotter and hotter the more you told yourself you couldn’t. Imagining showing up to his office hours one evening and just letting him have you any way he liked. Letting him take you apart on his desk, or sucking him off under his desk while he works. God, you’d daydreamed so many scenarios.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to act on any of it. You didn’t know how to. More importantly, you knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were some barely legal star eyed student he’d be taking advantage of, but still, you were his student. You weren’t sure how that dynamic might play out or the optics of it for either of you. Instead you willed yourself to stay focused on the work, to keep your thoughts set on passing the course and that was all.

Even when you would find yourself needing actual help from him or needing to ask him about an assignment, you would always talk yourself out of it. You didn’t want to let yourself be alone with him, you couldn’t be trusted. You were worried you’d make a fool of yourself the second you got the chance. So instead, you’d get help from a classmate if you could or you’d end up just winging it. It had been working that far.

The real problem started just last week. This most recent section was challenging to say the least. You had tried the study group offered on Monday nights, but you got absolutely nothing done.

Your last essay assignment had been returned to you on Friday with a note on it, asking you to come by his office hours before the next class. You had been putting it off all week, but knew you’d have to go by Thursday. You just weren’t expecting to see him around any earlier than that.

“Professors,” you greeted, slightly taken aback.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Barber apologized. “Thought you might’ve heard us walking up.”

“I was uh, lost in the text, I guess,” you replied, giving them an awkward smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone’s reading it,” he laughed.

“Do you mind if we join you?” he continued, motioning to the otherwise empty table you were sitting at the end of. It was big enough to seat at least 8 people easily and it’d, of course, be rude of you to try and keep it for yourself. But what would they need to be in the library for anyway? The question must have been written on your face as Mr. Barnes answered it for you.

“The heat isn’t working in our offices. We’re just grading some work.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Andy smiled.

They took seats at the other end of the table, surely trying to avoid distracting you. You appreciated the gesture, but it was futile. As they worked on grading papers, they were talking and laughing every so often and even if they hadn’t been, their presence alone was not at all aiding you in your attempt to focus on schoolwork.

You’d given up trying to finish the passage you’d been reading and instead pretended to start making notes in your laptop. In all actuality, you were really just googling alternative career paths and the question: “Do you really need a college degree to be successful?”.

Thirty minutes later, Andy’s phone went off and he began to gather his things, telling Mr. Barnes, who he called ‘Bucky’, that he had a lecture in 45 minutes but he’d see him later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andy pointed at you as he passed by.

“Bright and early,” you affirmed with a nod and a small smile.

“Have a good night,” he smiled back.

“You too,” you returned.

The second he was gone, you became fully aware that you were now alone with Professor Barnes, the situation you’d been trying to avoid for the past almost three months. Despite your efforts, your entire focus was being pulled to the man just down the table from you. He was still grading, in the middle of someone’s essay as you glanced over to him. You admired the quirk of his brow as he read and how his tongue jutted out to lick his lip as his eyes scanned the words on the page. You pulled your gaze away from him and back to your laptop, deciding to close it and put it away, begrudgingly returning to your textbook. Just one more hour. You had promised yourself 2 hours of studying today minimum, you were halfway there. You could do it.

Not ten minutes later you heard the flipping of paper and glanced over to see he’d just finished the paper he was on, writing the grade on top of the first page. You looked back to your text just as he slid the paper down the table to you. You furrowed your brows as you watched it slide into your book. You saw the “C-” he had given it circled in red ink and immediately recognized the title. Your lips parted and you clicked your tongue as you looked back up to meet his eye.

“Anyone else that would’ve been a D,” he told you, sounding slightly disappointed. “Your work is normally a lot better than what you’ve been turning in lately. That’s why I asked you to come by my office hours.”

“Yeah, I- uh. I don’t know, I’ve just been having a hard time with this section,” you explained. “And I wasn’t ignoring your note, I was planning to see you on Thursday.”

“Well, we’re both here now, right?” he said and you nodded.

“Good a time as any,” you shrugged.

He got up and moved his stuff down the table to take the seat next to you. You closed your textbook and straightened up in your chair. Nerves eating at you as he sat and turned to angle himself towards you.

“My main concern isn’t really about you understanding the materials, all the concepts are there in your work, it's just..lackluster. Sloppily written, a bit jumbled here and there. Nothing like what you had been turning in at the start of the semester,” he said. “Are you sure it’s the section you’re having a hard time with?”

You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

“What else would I be having a hard time with?” you questioned quietly.

It was his turn to look at you for a moment as he thought about how to word his response. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it before he finally spoke.

“You’ve seemed more and more distracted during class lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes gleaming into yours. He was already close, but you suddenly found yourself mindlessly leaning closer to him. You took a breath as you sat back, licking your lips ever so lightly without realizing as you looked away.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Sorry I’ve seemed distracted. Well, uhm, been distracted. I don’t know why I’ve been having such a hard time focusing on this,” you lied, “but I appreciate your concern. I’ll work on being more present. And putting more effort into my writing.”

He smiled softly and nodded before he turned back in his seat, returning to his pile of papers.

You bit your lip as you sat there. Of course you knew why you were so distracted, but you couldn’t just tell him it was because of him.

“You know there’s a study group you can sign up for,” he said as he was still looking down, reading the new paper in front of him, red pen in hand.

“Yeah, I know. I just, uh, work better in smaller groups,”

“Alone isn’t exactly a group,” he lightly smirked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I’ve never really had the best focus when it comes to studying, anything. I get off topic and then I get everyone else off topic and then we end up having spent the entire session debating something trivial, like who the best Batman is,” you said.

“Christian Bale,” he responded.

“Obviously,” you agreed with a smile. “But uhm, yeah. Less distractions the better, so I try to avoid big groups. Though I’ll admit, just trying to stay focused on my own is a feat in and of itself,” you laughed lightly.

“Sounds like you just need someone other than yourself to hold you accountable. Have you thought about one on ones? I offer tutoring sessions that no one seems to want to take me up on,” he laughed. “I have three one hour sessions all still open for tonight, actually.. Not that you need tutoring, but you could use the time to work on your assignments without distractions - and I'd be there, of course, if you need any help.”

You told yourself to say no. You really did..

“Well it couldn’t hurt, right?” you breathed, a small smile on your lips. Just then the clock chimed three, drawing both of your attention.

“I have a class in twenty, I have to get going. But I’ll be in my office from five to eight, you can come whenever. Like I said, no one else has signed up, so whenever you can make it. Hopefully the heat should be working by then.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Please, James is more than fine,” he told you. “I’ll see you later.”

When he left, you packed up your things - letting yourself off the hook for your two hour promise. You were gonna be studying later now, anyway so it wasn’t like you just checking out for the day. Your apartment wasn’t too far from campus, so you drove home and decided you’d head back around 6.

You made yourself a late lunch/early dinner and then got your things together for when you’d leave. You figured you had time for a quick nap, so you laid down on the couch with the tv still playing in the background. After about 45 minutes, you woke up feeling more flustered than you had felt all week. You were starting to regret your quick agreement to his one on one offer, but you couldn’t just not show up now. You were getting yourself worked up over nothing, you were sure. Really what could you do that would be so bad? It’s not like you were planning on seducing the man. You’d probably just ask him to review the essay you’d been working on that would be turned in at the next class and ask for clarification on the requirements for the part of your midterm paper you’d been confused about for the past two weeks. You probably wouldn’t even stay the whole hour.

Checking the time, you decided to head back to campus. You’d get to his office a little after 5 and you’d be home by 6:30 at the latest. It’d be fine.

As you walked up to the sturdy oak door that led to his office, two cups of coffee in hand, your nerves started anew. You took a second before you knocked lightly. A few moments later, the door was pulled open as he greeted you, ushering you in.

“I got you a coffee,” you offered with a smile.

“That’s very much needed, thank you,” he smiled back, taking the drink you’d extended to him. “Please, have a seat.”

You took the only chair across from his desk as he sat.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be able to go over my essay for this week. See if it’s missing anything, or if it needs to be rewritten entirely,” you laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course,”

“Great,” you breathed, “I just emailed you a copy.”

He pulled it open on his screen and you watched for a moment as he began reading before you pulled out your laptop to work more on your midterm. You couldn’t focus though. Not with him right across from you. The little noises he’d make as he read caught your attention repeatedly and when you’d glance up, you’d find yourself admiring the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the squinting of his eyes.

“The whole point of this is so that you have no distractions,” he said as he continued reading before turning to look at you. “Something distracting you?” he asked, his eyes finding your own with something akin to a playful glimmer shining in them.

You opened your mouth to speak but you just shook your head instead, taking a steadying breath.

“No,” you answered after a second. He looked at you hard.

“You sure about that?” he asked again.

“No,” you repeated softly.

“Well since you can’t seem to focus on what you’re working on, why don’t you come over here and we’ll go over this together.”

You stared at him, gawking before your body finally moved. You stood up and he did the same, pulling his chair back for you to sit in as you rounded the desk. He pushed you back in and then leaned down behind you so he was at the same height you were, looking at the screen.

You were stiff and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And he was so pretty. God, you didn’t know what to do. You really couldn’t focus, even as he read your words aloud and went over a line you’d blubbed.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, standing to his full height as he spun the chair around, looking down at you. Your eyes immediately landed on his crotch before you quickly looked away, trying to not look so flustered.

“Sorry,” you eked out.

“It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You’re clearly distracted,” he said, finding your eye. “I think you just need to clear your head to find your focus.”

“Right, well, I don’t really know how to do that,” you breathed.

“Why don’t you let me try to help,” he returned softly as he leaned down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

You were definitely not expecting this to happen, but you weren’t upset in the least. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee. Your hand found his hair as you pulled him closer to you, the gentle kiss turning into something hungrier the longer it went on. He pulled away suddenly and pulled you out of his chair before taking his seat and pulling you down onto his lap just as quickly, his lips returning to yours the instant he had you on him. Your arm wound itself around his neck as your other cupped his jaw, keeping his face close to you as he held you close to him.

Slowly, his hand traveled under your sweater and along your waist, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He easily slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you as he did. You felt his erection growing as you sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss as you teasingly rubbed against him, earning a groan from him in response. He broke away from you for a moment as you both caught your breath, “Tell me if you want to stop,” was all he said before he maneuvered you with ease. He sat you on the edge of his desk while he took your boots off before he pulled your leggings down your thick thighs, his touch sending chills through you as he did.

He made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down before he took himself out of his briefs. He sat back down on his chair as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “Stand up,” he told you. When you were standing before him, he pulled you close by your wide set hips before his fingers hooked the band of your thong, dragging it down until they were past your thighs and dropped to your ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart.”

You did as he said before he pulled you closer and got you onto the chair, positioning you so you straddled his lap, barely hovering above his hard cock. You were breathing heavily as your hands grasped his shoulders and his hands held your fleshy hips. He looked up at you like he was waiting for your permission and so you nodded softly down at him. He gripped himself with one hand and moved the tip of his cock along your wet slit, you gasped in unison at the feeling. He took his time and just played with you a bit until you were moaning, whining above him. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled your clit before he moved to finally align his cock up to your slick entrance. He pushed his tip just inside of you and groaned at the sensation, his hands returning to your hips as he gripped you tightly, holding you there despite you wanting desperately to take more of him.

“James,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Call me Bucky,” he instructed headily.

“Bucky,” you whined further, trying to lower yourself further onto his cock.

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you moaned as he took your lips in his again.

“You want more? Want more of my dick inside you?”

“Yes, yes, Bucky, please,” you mewled.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing you along your neck, “but then you’re gonna focus on your work, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed without really hearing him. You just needed more, you needed all of him.

He pulled you down further onto his cock torturously slowly as you gasped and mewled until he was seated fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, at the warmth of your cunt around him.

You tried to move, but were stopped again by his hands holding you in place. He tutted as he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? We just agreed you’re gonna focus on your work now,”

“Huh? Right, right now?” you huffed.

“Right now,” he told you firmly.

You pouted as you leaned against his chest, your face pressing into his neck, even just that movement sparking pleasure through you.

“No pouting,” he laughed against your temple. You turned your face up to him, pout still in place before you leaned up further to kiss him again. Slow and heated, he got lost in your kiss. He almost didn’t stop you when you started rocking your hips against him. Almost.

You whined again as he held you still. His strength was impressive, you had to admit.

“Stop. Moving,” he growled, sending a new wave of arousal through you. “You’re gonna sit right here on my cock while we go over your essay and if you do a good job listening to me and stay focused, I’ll give you what you really want after. Understand?”

“Yes, professor,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he smiled, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you.

It was thirty five minutes of pure torture. He read a loud your entire essay and had you make corrections as he went, the entire time you could feel his thick cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt, just begging for any kind of movement. Near the end of your essay corrections, his hand dropped from your hip until he found your clit, slowly beginning to rub it in tight circles. You mewled pathetically and your walls tightened around his dick still deep inside of you while his lips attacked your neck with gentle kisses and love bites.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised. “You took this from a C to an A with just thirty minutes of actual focus. All you had to do was face your distractions head on, find the right motivation,” he smirked against your skin.

“So we’re done with the editing then, right?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed against you.

“Great,” you breathed as he brought you closer with his every touch.

“Fuck, you’re squezzing me so tight,” he groaned.

“I’m gonna come,” you mewled, breathing heavier still as his left hand tightened on your hip and his fingers worked your bud faster, sending you head first into your orgasm, his name falling off your tongue as you cursed and panted through your high, collapsing onto his chest.

“Oh my god,” he whined with a small gasp, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, can I come inside you?” he asked. You nodded your answer as you were still trying to catch your breath. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours, hot and needy, while you felt him tense suddenly as his cock pulsed inside you and he moaned deeply into your mouth as he let himself go, you could feel the warmth of his release against your walls.

The evidence of your orgasm was all over his lap, coating his dick as he pulled you off of him.

“Holy fuck,” he panted. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt yourself heat up even more than you already had been. “Hand me a tissue,” he said pointing to the box he had on the corner of his desk.

He cleaned himself up quickly before he pulled his briefs and trousers back up. He had you again on the edge of his desk as he bent down to clean you up, too, admiring the way his cum was leaking out of you before he grabbed your leggings from the floor, handing them to you. He pocketed your thong before he stood back up to his full height, towering over you.

“That was nice,” he laughed softly as he leaned down closer to you, his right hand framing your face, tilting it up to meet his eye, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your cheek before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smiled in response. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate, but I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“The feeling is more than mutual,” you assured him. “But uhm. Is this..,” you gestured between the two of you, “allowed?” you questioned as you hopped off his desk to pull your leggings on.

“Well, it’s certainly not encouraged, but there’s nothing in my contract that explicitly prohibits it. I made sure a few months ago,” he said, eyeing you with a shy smile as if he hadn’t just come inside you after making you cockwarm him for nearly 45 minutes. It made you laugh. “I would prefer to keep this between us for as long as we can, though,” he hedged.

“Yeah, I completely agree. Don’t need these kids gossiping about me, too.”

“They do love to talk, don’t they?” he grimaced, causing you to smile at him.

“I’m sure we can keep this under wraps,” you said as you pulled your boots back on. “And I’d like to sign up for next week's one on one sessions, too, if you're available.”

“I’ll be sure to block it out for you,” he grinned.

“Might as well make it a standing weekly appointment,” you suggested as you walked back over to him from where he was perched on his desk.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he responded as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer while you stared up at him, your arms wrapping around him in return. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” you questioned, pulling back slightly. “That doesn’t sound very underwraps,” you teased.

“A private dinner. At a private residence. My residence,” he clarified with a smirk.

“I’m free,” you nodded as you backed away and went to the other side of the desk as he turned around to watch you.

“Great, I’ll message you the address.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped your laptop back inside of it. “I should get going, but, thank you. For everything,” you simpered. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. My door’s always open. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow it is,” you nodded in agreement as you walked to the door. But before you could open it, Bucky was behind you, turning you around to face him. His lips met yours in a soft, unrushed kiss before he pulled away slowly, opening the door for you.

“Have a good night,” you breathed.

“You, too,” he smiled.

Three weeks later you had a routine set in place. Nothing changed much in class, except you found yourself paying more close attention to the material now that you weren’t so hopelessly longing for your professor. Wednesday’s were your one on one sessions in Bucky’s office and Friday nights had been spent at his place. This last week, you’d even stayed the three day weekend with him. You knew you weren’t crazy when you had thought there was something real between the two of you when you had first met, but you didn’t expect to have clicked so well the way you had. Your chemistry was unbelievable and you got on so well together. Plus the sex was incredible.

Fucking in his office was so cliche, but that didn’t make it any less hot. In fact, it was really the only place you called him “Professor” these days. The title just made things that much sexier. It was Wednesday afternoon and you’d just gotten out of your last class for the day. You were going to head to Bucky’s office in a few hours, planning to go to your apartment to freshen up before picking up some food for you both on your way back.

You’d just finished changing into more…accessible clothes when your phone rang. It was a text from Bucky letting you know that the heat in his office wasn’t working again, so you’d have to meet in the library instead as they’d be working on the unit in his room. You frowned slightly, accepting that you’d changed for nothing, but at least the skirt was still comfortable. You texted back asking if you should still bring food and he promised he’d take you somewhere after instead. Apparently only two of his students in his 3:20 class showed up, so he dismissed them for the day. He was already on his way to the library, so you grabbed your things and headed back to campus.

You walked around the library looking for him with no luck before you decided to walk up to the second level, which was technically closed off for some construction work, in order to get a better view. You spotted him easily in the far back section of the lower level as you stood at the railing of the second floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and you smiled as you spied a cup of tea waiting for you next to his satchel on the table while he read over some work.

You walked back down to the first floor and made your way to him.

“Professor,” you greeted as you knocked on the bookcase blocking the table he was at from an easy view. He greeted you in return as he looked up from his work, a smile on his face. His eyes caught on the low v-neck of the top you were wearing, your cleavage on perfect display. His tongue jutted out along his lower lip as he admired the view. You cleared your throat as you looked at him with a raised brow.

He looked back up to your eyes, smiling charmingly as if he hadn’t just been caught leering at you so openly.

“I’m here to study, not be perved on,” you accused.

“You know you need to clear your mind to get your focus, first. And you know what helps clear your mind best,” he alluded.

“You know we’re in public, right?” you asked, voice hushed as you walked closer to the table.

“It’s a Wednesday, no one’s gonna come back here,” he said smoothly. “We’re hidden from sight.”

“Not true,” you denied. “I saw you from the second level,” you informed him.

“Was anyone up there?” he asked.

“No..”

“Didn’t think so,” he said smugly.

“There’s not right now. Anyone could come in at any time. It’s the middle of the day.”

“You’re right,” he aquesqued, hands up. “All work, no play today. I got you a tea,” he offered.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you took the seat across from him.

“Wow, why are you sitting so far?”

“Where do you want me to sit?” you laughed.

“Preferably, my lap,” he started, earning a humored scoff from you. “But right here would be good, too,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.

You got up and moved spots, getting comfortable before you pulled up your essay on your laptop.

“Still going through midterms?” you asked as you looked over to him making marks on the paper he was reading.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you gotten to mine yet?”

“Not yet,” he said absently.

You nodded as you took a sip of your tea. You looked back to your essay and found yourself trailing off. It was pretty much finished, just needed to be read through again for any edits you needed to make. It wasn’t enough to keep your attention. Too easy. You could do it later no problem.

Instead you took out your text for Andy’s class and started reading next week’s assignment. You didn’t have much else to do. Funnily enough, you’d been getting most of your work done earlier than normal so you’d have less to actually do on Wednesdays, instead spending your “study” time focusing on other things…

You weren’t paying attention to anything, lost in perverted thoughts of last week when Bucky had fucked you agaisnt the wall in his office, while twirling your pen as you stared down blankly at the words on the page, not reading them at all. Pulling you from your perversions, suddenly you felt Bucky’s hand smooth its way under your skirt and up your thigh. His hand was so warm and strong as he touched you, sending chills through you as he scooted his chair closer to yours. You didn’t stop him and absentmindedly spread your thighs for him as he inched his way closer and closer to your inner thighs before his fingers made their way between them, gently rubbing at your warm, barely clothed pussy.

You came back to earth as you remembered where you were and reached your hand under the table to hold his, stopping his movements.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, professor?” you breathed.

“Helping,” he responded. “What did I say about distractions, sweetheart?”

“Who says I’m distracted,” you whispered as you heard chatter coming from the other side of the bookcase before it passed as some students made their way to the front desk from the back office you weren’t too far off from.

“You have that far off look in your eyes,” he spoke quietly, “and I saw you squeezing your thighs together not ten seconds ago.” You exhaled a breath so softly you barely even heard yourself.

“Maybe we can end this session early and call it a day?” you asked, wanting to get out of the library and meet him back at your place, or hell, meet him at his car and let him take you apart in the faculty parking lot.

“No, I don’t think so. We both have some work left to do.”

“Bucky,” you whispered.

“No calling me Bucky outside my office while we’re on campus,” he reminded you. “You know better.”

You bit your lip before whispering sorry.

“You just need to face your distractions so you can get past them,” he said. “Let me help.”

You let go of his hand beneath the table and spread your thighs a little wider.

You almost stopped breathing completely when he slipped his fingers past your panties and gently pushed inside of you as one of the librarians passed by the aisle over. She peered behind the bookcase that was shielding you from the side to see who was at the tables and greeted both of you quietly before she returned to the aisle and reshelved some books. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop for even a second as he returned her greeting and went back to grading.

The second you knew she was gone you panted a breath. “James,” you chastised as you sat in your seat still, making no attempt to actually stop him.

“More?” he questioned without looking up from his work, only speeding up his fingering, curling them inside of you. You bit down harshly on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your thighs tensing with the impending wave of pleasure you were teetering on before he slipped his fingers out of you, a school boy smirk playing on his lips.

You exhlaed heavily and shakily before looking over to him, shocked. He finally looked back at you, still smirking.

“I wanna try something. If you want me to stop, tell me,” he said as he removed his hand from your thigh and stood up abruptly. You could see the outline of his erection through his trousers and found yourself getting more aroused. You didn’t know what he wanted to do, but assumed it'd be something at least a little discret. Along the lines of putting you in his lap again, or even just having you get him off. So when he pulled you up and spun you around, pushing you down against the table, you were surprised to say the least. You heard him unzip his pants as he pulled himself free and then pulled your panties down your thighs. You couldn’t even think as he prodded you with his cock, and gasped loudly when he finally pushed into you. His hand was on your mouth in an instant as he leaned over your back, his mouth next to your ear as he spoke. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he panted. “You don’t want anyone to see us back here, do you?”

Your gurgled moan was his response as he began fucking into you, keeping your chest firmly againt the sturdy table, one hand on your mouth and one holding your wrists behind your back. You were panting as quietly as you could as he slid in and out of you, getting deeper with each thrust. He took his hand away from your mouth after a moment and gripped your hip to keep you a little more steady, trying to keep your hips from slamming so hard into the wood. The salacious sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass with his thrusts were only making you more slick as he moved his hand from your wrists to keep your skirt pushed up as he fucked you from behind.

It was taking all of your willpower to keep quiet, your mouth open in silent moans as you tried to keep yourself breathing. His thrusts were getting more powerful the longer he went. Each time you heard people passing by, your cunt gripped his cock even tighter at the thrill of the proximity, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

“Who knew you were so fucking kinky,” he panted into your ear. “You like getting fucked in public, huh? Like the idea of anyone walking by and seeing you get fucked out of your mind? Seeing you getting claimed by me,” he husked.

You mewled as quietly as you could and nodded your head in affirmation. “I like it,” you whispered pathetically.

“I know you do,” he laughed before fucking into you deeper, making sure you felt every inch of his thick cock gliding against your velvety walls, squeezing him tightly.

“Professor, please,” you pleaded quietly.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted as he gripped your hip harder still, pulling your ass flush against him before he began rutting into you desperately. He leaned his weight onto you as he kept you pushed down, flush against the table. His hand left your skirt and found your clit, adding to the growing pressure building in your abdomen as he rubbed you, fucking you and stimulating all the most sensitive spots along your walls. Before you knew you were, you came completely undone, the familiar white hot pleasure induced euphoria spreading through you as you came around him, squeezing him like you never wanted him to leave you empty again. And truth be told, you didn’t. You’d never felt so fulfilled or satisfied in your life.

He could barely move as you came around him, but after a few more thrusts, he shot his load inside of you, cursing under his breath as he came, panting. After a moment, he pulled out gently and slid your panties back up for you, pushing your skirt down before he fixed himself. You were still reeling from the intensity of it all when you stood, a little wobbly, from the table.

Cute planned ending:

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you breathed, turning around to face Bucky. “We really just did that,” you said, still in shock at yourself while Bucky grinned proudly before looking around a bit, just making sure you were still alone. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you go for a second before kissing you harder again.

“We did. And now,” he said, ushering you back to your seat, urging you to sit down, “you're gonna finish editing your paper while I grade a few more of these midterms, no distractions.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered as you looked up at him still standing while you were seated once again. “I’m the one sitting here with come leaking out of me,” you complained.

“Is it that distracting for you, sweetheart?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yes,” you responded.

“No problem. I can help with that, too,” he smirked as he got down on his knees, crawling under the table to kneel at your feet as your eyes went wide while you watched him. He pulled you to the edge of the chair before he slipped your panties off completely. “That essay better be ready to turn in by the time I get back up, do you understand?” he warned. You could feel his breath against your folds as he got closer.

“Yes, professor,” you mewled pathetically as you spread your thighs even wider for him.

Alternative kind of darkish ending:

You felt eyes on you as you turned around, but it wasn’t Bucky. You looked up to the second floor and could have sworn you saw Andy passing by, worry flooding through you instantly. You weren’t sure, though. Maybe he was really just walking by and hadn’t seen anything. Maybe it was no one at all and you were just imagining things. You almost didn’t even want to say anything about it, just act like you hadn’t seen, or thought you saw, anyone at all.

Until Andy came knocking on the bookcase, from the opposite direction, startling you as you gasped and spun around, hands flying to make sure your skirt was smoothed down completely, unconscious backing toward where Bucky was. Andy looked between you both for a second before he spoke, a knowing, devilish smirk growing on his face as he looked at you in a way you’d never seen him look at anyone before. Lewdly, leering, lustful, even.

“What’s goin’ on down here?”

You looked back at Bucky, hoping to find some kind of reassurance or protection, but he was completely unphased at the presence of his friend.

“You enjoy the show?” he asked, unamused.

“I think I could put on better,” he shrugged, eyes still locked on you, even as Bucky pulled you into his side.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna let him try?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #professor!bucky #professor barnes #professor bucky x reader #professor barnes x reader #professor!bucky barnes #professor!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #andy barber x curvy!reader #soft!dark bucky x reader #andy barber

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miryel89 · 8 months

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Here we go again...

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jamneuromain · 1 year

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Straight-A Student

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: Smut, Fluff and Smut, a lil angst?, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Pet Names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, sweet thing), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, spanking, talking about Dom/Sub, implied Dom/Sub, authority kink, choking if you squint, possessive Andy Barber, rough sex

Word count: 3k

Summary: You argue with Andy, during your ninth date.

A/N: Part of the conversation came up by @rogerswifesblog <3

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

“Hey,” Andy breaks your kiss, lips tracing your forehead, muttering your name. He is panting because of the passionate kiss you shared, “… I should probably drive you home.”

You wish you could contain your anger. You really wish you could.

“What the HELL, Andy?” You snap, swatting away his arm around your waist, “WHAT THE HELL?”

To be fair, you have every reason to be angry with him.

This is the third time when he pushes you away during a heated kiss, either saying ridiculous shit about “driving you home” or waving you goodbye in front of your apartment.

This is the ninth date! NINE fucking dates and two months. That’s where you are, kissing.

And only kissing plus something PG-13.

“Is there something wrong with me? Or…” something’s wrong with Andy, but you didn’t say that out loud, “are we a thing?” You ask, unable to understand why the second before sex he’ll push you away, “why’d you do that?”

Of all the boys you’ve dated, no one made it past the fourth date and still didn’t mention sex.

Apart from Andy, apparently, who is not just any “boy”.

No, he is your fucking professor from last semester. And since classes are over, one encounter in the pub turns into more, which turns into dates, which turns you head over heels for him, which leads you to this precise moment.

Andy tries to hold your hand. Judging by your hurt expression, he lowers his palm to your knees. “N-No! I mean we’re…There’s nothing wrong with you.” He licks his lips, stuttering to explain.

“Then what the hell Andy? I like you and want to have sex with you.” You sigh in frustration, looking down at the short sundress barely covering half your thigh.

It is a cute sundress, light blue, with white daisies patterns. You choose this dress tonight with sex in mind-why else would he ask you to come to his house “for dinner”?

Now you despise your own interpretation of his invitation.

“For dinner” actually means “dinner” and no sex.

Har Har. Joke’s on you.

Andy massages your bare skin with his palm gently. He doesn’t even attempt his hands to go a bit higher under your dress, only warming your knees with his hand. “It’s not you-please,” he trips over his words, “I-I like you too, it’s just…”

You’ve had enough, “one last chance, Andy, or I’m walking out of this door.”

You set a ten-second countdown silently.

Nine.

Eight.

What’s the worse that could happen? He has erectile dysfunction?

Seven.

He visibly gulps, looking more nervous than before.

Six.

Andy? Nervous?

Five.

Four.

Looks like you are walking out of that door after all. You glance at your handbag, planning for an exit.

Three.

Brilliant. You will never date anyone older than you ever again.

Two.

You are only making yourself look bad by pushing him.

One.

Great.

“I-” “I have… needs.” You and Andy speak simultaneously. His voice lower, hesitant. He realizes he’s cutting off your words, mumbling a quiet “sorry”.

You are perplexed, to say the least. “Needs…? Sure. What needs?”

Andy looks like a balloon, full of air a minute ago when you were kissing, but now, the air drained, “I… I like to be dominant during sex. I like,” he swallows a lump down his throat, unable to meet your eyes, “holding my partner still, I like telling them what to do.”

The words are weighing him down, instead of up. The more he speaks, the more his heart dies.

“I like going rough. Leave marks on them. Bruises.”

Every sentence feels like torture.

“I want to discipline my partner.” The proper word is, “…spanking. I want control.” He winces.

Silence.

He knows he is going to regret it by the morning, when the headline of the university news would be “Professor Andy Barber, A Sadist in Life AND Sex”.

You are completely awe-struck for a minute.

You weren’t expecting this.

Not even a little.

But damn didn’t what he confessed make you feel things.

Good things.

First, you need to make this clear, “you are into BDSM … stuff?”

“Dom/Sub and bondage. Yes.”

More silence.

He is ruined.

He is completely over.

He messed up the chance with you.

Andy buries his face in his hands, hoping it could make things easier if he doesn’t see you walk away.

“Spanking, as if, the kind of spanking we get as a kid?” You swallow thickly, feeling your pussy clench with his response.

“Yes.”

It takes your whole body not to shake at his words.

“Can we… umm, try that?” You whisper.

Andy raises his head from his palms, turning to look at you, “I’m sorry?”

This must be a dream.

He is dreaming.

He pinches his wrist to make sure he is in the real world.

A sharp pain nearly has him yelp.

For Christ’s sake, you are asking him to spank you.

He returns your question with another, “you tried spanking before?”

Honestly? No.

You’ve had sex before, that’s for sure. Plain vanilla. Sometimes you have to fake your own orgasm to protect their fragile ego.

There’s nothing wrong with vanilla. It’s fine. It’s only a bit dull. Like there’s something missing. Something you’ve read about, “la petite mort”, dying a little. You’ve always wondered what’s it like.

No, you have never tried spanking before. But your unsettling heartbeat in your ears tells you it might be the solution to what you are looking forward to. To be put down. Maybe a little fight and struggle. To be taken.

“No, but I want to give it a shot.” You admit shyly. You blush from head to toe. The air in his apartment suffocating you. Heating you. Wrapping a hand around your neck – no, wait, that’s Andy. Andy caresses your jawline with his thumb, his blue eyes blown wide, and he nods, “before we get anything started, you need a safe word. It can’t be ‘no’ or ‘stop’, that could confuse me with you actually wearing out. Pick something short and irrelevant to sex. When you say it, it means a full stop to whatever I’m doing. Something you can remember and pronounce clearly. Something like fruit? Apple?”

“Yeah, apple sounds good.”

“Okay.” He pecks your lips, then orders you with a soft voice, “lie across my lap. On your stomach.”

He holds on to your shoulder to help you lie down. His jeans feel rough, even with a thin piece of dress between your body and his.

You don’t know where to put your arms, when he rubs the back of your neck and tells you to get comfortable.

You put your arms above your head, touching the soft material of the couch.

He moves your body slightly, for your ass to perch up.

“It’s all about relaxing.” He runs a hand down your bare thigh, warming the cool skin under his palm. He explains calmly what he is going to do, when the muscles on your waist are no longer tense, and your body gains a rhythmic speed of breathing, “I’m going to spank you ten times. Start with a small swat, and I will go harder. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” You reply shakily.

“Shhh. Don’t be scared, sweet thing.” He lands a kiss on your spine, his hand still massaging your thighs, his other hand spread over your upper back, giving you the soothing warm you need, his voice dropping to a whisper, “you can always safe word when it’s too much.”

Your body melts to his touch.

“One more thing.” He mutters, “could you be a good girl for me and count your spanking?”

The first slap is nothing more than a small pat on your right cheek. Even so, you count as he asked you to: “One.”

“One, Sir.” He corrects you, flipping the thin piece of dress to your waist as you unmistakably feel his shaft hardens under your soft stomach.

Bet he didn’t see your black lacy panties coming, huh?

“One, Sir.” You repeat what he says, biting your lower lip to stiffen a giggle.

The next blow comes harder to your bare flesh. A smack with no actual force. There’s not even a sting.

“Two, Sir.” You breathe steadily as he trails his left hand up and down your spine.

Somehow, you know the next blow is a real spanking instead of the last two playful swats.

A patch of sting blooms on your right cheek when he lands the third smack, dissipating quickly into your skin.

You let out a small squeal, “three, Sir.”

Your clit is aching for some touch. You press your thighs together for some comfort, but he stops your squirming with a warning pinch on your thigh.

“None of that.” He tuts, a hint of dominance in his voice, “getting needy, are you?”

Your whimper turns into another squeal when the fourth smack meets your cheek. The sting leaves for a longer period of time, still not truly painful.

“I asked you a question. I expect you to answer, sweetheart.” Andy squeezes your cheek with his fingers, kneading your ass as the pain grows fainter.

You grab onto the smooth sofa surface. The tinge of pain blooms into your wetness down your core. You crave something more at your entrance. Something stronger. Something harder.

“Four, Sir. Yes, Sir.” Your face flushed-red, abashed by your confession.

You yelp as the final blow to your right cheek paint your ass pink, even only for a couple of seconds. You forget all about counting his smacks as the buzz of pleasure leaves your body. Andy’s palm massages your tender skin slowly, turning you around to face him, “is that too tense for you, sweet girl?” His eyes nothing short of worry and concern, cerulean blue orbs filled with warmth.

His action speaks more than his words: Did he hurt you? Does he need to stop? Do you need to safe word?

“No. I’m good.” A shy smile hanging on the corner of your lips, “Sir.”

Andy closes his eyes and groans, “you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

He flips you over with one fluid motion, delivering the next five smacks on your ass as promised. He watches as your skin blooms with pink traces of his spanking, clenching his teeth when you count each one. His cock strained in his boxers, painfully hard. He wants to paint your pink ass with his cum, the milky substance drips down your thigh, making a mess on…

“Can I have some more… Sir?” You look over your shoulders, lifting your body from his lap slightly, “a little harder, maybe?” You chew on your lower lip, in anticipation of his answer.

You crave more, after your spanks. His blows are not enough. You want his hands to come down just a little harder. And deep down, you can tell he is still holding back. Probably because he’s afraid of scaring you.

Yet you want it.

You want him behind this façade. You want him for all he is. You want to see the worst he can do to you.

You are so excited about his unfiltered dominance.

Andy chokes on your request, but huffs out a laugh.

They were married for ten years, and Laurie refused his dominance for ten years.

Laurie never wanted any of this. Laurie never liked any of this. Laurie thought BDSM was sick.

Not like young people saying skateboards and weed kind of “sick”.

The other kind.

The bad kind.

So, he hid that side of him away from her, tucked it into a dark corner in his mind, locked it, and threw away the key.

While you.

You found the key.

You unleashed the beast inside him.

Feeding it more of your given-up control.

He nudges your elbow to have you lie back in place, and mutters, “since you’ve asked so nicely… three each. Be a good girl and remind me of your safe word, will you?”

“Apple.”

“God you’re perfect.” He combs your hair to the side, rubbing circles on your back, planting a small kiss on your lower waist.

A loud smack has your body spasm, your nails bite into your palm, and you wince for the first time.

This is exactly what you need. What you want. What you crave.

“One, Sir.”

The sharp pain spreads with the numbing sensation. The shade of dark pink stays on your skin. Pain blend into pleasure, shooting sparks down your core. Andy kneads your ass until it doesn’t hurt anymore, which is only a matter of seconds.

Smack.

“Two, Sir.”

He could see the palmprint, covering the previous spank, leaving a beautiful pink imprint. He doesn’t wait to deliver the third blow.

“Ah-Three, Sir.”

Your ass is numb. Smack overlapping smack is both pleasure and torture to your delicate skin.

Three more smacks on your other cheek, and you know your core is leaking. The wet patch of lace clings to your soaking pussy, making you want to squirm.

“Fuck.” He pulls you close to sit on his lap, devouring you in a searing kiss, “fuck, you’re so good for me baby.” Andy rests his forehead with yours. Your pussy grinds over his bulge, when his hand kneads your ass. “I want you, Andy,” you moan into his mouth, your lips burning for his beard, but that’s what you want, “I want you, Sir. Please.”

Succumbing to his needs. Succumbing to his wish.

He makes it all so easy.

He makes you thirsty for more.

Andy wants to take you, right here, right now.

Rip you to pieces just to put you back together.

But no. The Couch isn’t the nicest place to take you.

“Bed.” He pants into your hair, kissing your temple, “bedroom.”

A tangled mess of limbs, groping, and kissing brings the both of you to his bed.

You are out of the restraints of your clothes in no time, eager to pull him down for more kisses, dragging him down, grasping the base of his neck, clawing his back.

Even if you are occupied with his kisses, your hands tell you all about his body.

He is built. Strong. Muscles flex under your touch. He has pecs, but you don’t bother counting them with your fingers, reaching for his shaft. Pumping it in your hand.

His thick girth twitches, oozing pre-cum, damping your palm, when he looks you in the eyes. Lip swollen, pupils blown, Andy gazes into your eyes, breathing out one single thing: ”Safe word?”

“I’m good. No need.” You giggle to pull him to your lips again, when he flips you over single-handedly, his shaft pressing against your ass. The pink shade on your skin long gone.

He puts a condom on, before covering your body with his, your back to his chest, “fuck, I want to spank your ass sore till you can’t sit on a damn chair without thinking about me.” He pushes himself into your tight channel entirely, hissing, groaning, kissing your shoulder and neck.

It is a fucking dream come true.

You pinned under his large frame, taken, fucked. Fisting the sheets, the pillows, his arm, his bicep. Your hips arched up, being pounded into. His balls smacking your clit. His hand sneaks around your throat, holding your chin so he can kiss your neck easier. His other hand holding your waist, gripping so hard it might bruise.

He doesn’t care.

No, he cares. He wants bruises. He wants you sore. He wants you pumped full of cum.

Slick runs down your thighs, gushes out of your pussy.

You have never been fucked this hard.

Tears slide down your cheeks, dampen your hairline, as you are being rutted into. His tip brushes your cervix. Ramming you into the mattress.

Rearranging your guts.

“Jesus. Fuuuck-” You moan into the sheets – his hand when he starts losing grip. When your bodies are slick with sweat. When his hand slide to your chin.

You didn’t mean to dart out your tongue, but you taste the salty sweat in his palm. Engulfed in his cologne.

You suck on his finger. His thumb, to be precise. Toying it with your tongue and swollen lips. Biting it when he rams into you.

He sputters a curse, “fuck, you’re trouble.”

Andy smears your saliva on your lips and your chin, pulling out his thumb so that he could hear your moans and whimpers, “poor pussy will be ruined tomorrow.” He rasps into your ear, “tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Andy.” You choke on a scream, “you. Sir. Professor. You.”

He rams into you harder every time you squeak a new word for him, for all of him.

He bites your shoulder and rubs harshly on your clit, his dick twitching, cumming, shooting ropes of cum into the thin piece of rubber. Your walls pulsate. Creaming his dick. White hot pleasure burns to the very tip of your nerves.

He quickly throws away the condom before climbing back onto the bed with you. Panting. Breathing rapidly. Having an arm around your shoulders as you flip yourself over on your back.

“You did great, baby.” He murmurs to your hair, kissing the top of your head. He knows it probably doesn’t bother you anymore, but he has to ask, “does your ass still hurt?”

“No.” You rub your chin on his bicep, looking into his warm blue eyes, “not bad yourself, Professor Barber.” You smirk, teasing him a little, “you make a great teacher. Even outside of class.”

He chuckles at your words, capturing your wandering hand for a kiss, “well, I’d give you a B+ or even an A. Though we should probably work on your-”

You smack his arm, “ANDY!”

“OH, okay. B then, for your attitude.” He raises his brows to your “challenge”, earning another playful smack.

You push yourself up on your elbow, hogging most of the sheet because he annoys you, “is there any chance to…” your fingers circle his chest in a seductive way, “I don’t know… argue my marks?”

Andy pulls you down for a kiss, grinning in contentment with you in his arms, “lemme see your efforts. Perhaps I’ll change my mind for my favorite straight-A student.”

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #professor andy barber #student reader #possessive andy barber #andy barber fluff #andy barber fanfiction #dancing in the daydream #straight a student

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americasass91 · 1 year

Text

Bad Grade

Hello, there lovelies!

So this was completely conjured because of the picture above. I can’t help that I’m horny for the bastard. Thus, this fic was born. I immediately thought of Andy when I saw the glasses and had to indulge in a little Professor fic. With a surprise thrown in at the end 😉

I hope you enjoy it.

*DISCLAIMER*, if you’re under 18, you don’t belong here. Kindly fuck off and go away. Thank you!

Words: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, P in V sex, oral(m receiving), Professor kink, Andy’s glasses, I think that’s it

👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

You nervously pull down your skirt as you approach the professor's door. You have to admit you’re a bit nervous. You almost think about turning around.

Instead, you take a couple of deep breaths and hesitantly raise your fist and knock on the door.

You don’t have to wait very long at all before the door swings open and reveals your law professor, Mr Barber.

“Ah, Y/N. I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” He says as he’s not so subtly giving you a once over.

You clear your throat as you pull on your skirt again. “Of course I was gonna show. I’d like to discuss my bad grade.”

He moves aside so you can enter his classroom. As you’re walking to a desk in the front row, you hear him shut the door and turn the lock. You turn to look at him quizzically. “Is there a reason we need the door locked Professor?”

He waves you off and walks over to stand in front of his desk so that he’s directly in front of you. “Just don’t want to be disturbed while we discuss your paper.”

You nod hesitantly as you take a seat. “Okay…where should we begin?”

He gives you a look you can’t quite place before he grabs your paper off his desk. He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I think the first place to start is to ask if you’re paying attention in class because according to this paper the answer is no.”

You look down at your hands that are fiddling in your lap. “I’m doing my best, Professor. It’s hard. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s hard.” He mutters under his breath.

You furrow your brows. “What was that?”

He clears his throat and leans against his desk. “I asked what’s distracting you?”

“Oh, uh, you know…just normal stuff.”

“Are you having issues at home?”

“No.”

“Problems with your other Professors?”

You shake your head. “I guess you could say I’ve been distracted by…someone.”

“And who might that be?”

No way were you telling him that considering he was the someone. “That’s not really important. What I’d like to know is if there’s anything I can do about my grade?”

He looks down at the paper in thought for a moment. He looks back up at you after a few seconds. “You could always try actually paying attention and studying.”

You know that’s not gonna work. Not when he shows up to class in his stupid cardigans and those stupid fucking glasses. “I’ll do my best, I promise. Is there anything else I can do? Maybe some extra credit or something?”

He looks down for a moment. You can swear you see a slight blush on his cheeks. The look he gives you when he lifts his head back up is enough to have your panties melting off of you. “Well, I can think of a few things. Though you might not be up for it.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and start pleading to him. “Please, I said I’d do anything, Professor. I have to pass this class if I want to be a lawyer someday.”

He stands up fully and drops your paper on his desk. He takes his glasses off and wipes away a smudge with his sweater. He places them back on his face. “Alright then. You could, oh I don’t know, suck me off?”

Your mouth drops open. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. “Excuse me?”

He starts walking toward your desk. You’re glued to the spot, unable to look away from his now heated gaze. He leans down and plants both hands on your desk and gets so close that you can see your reflection in his glasses. “I said you can suck me off.”

You cannot believe your hot law professor just said that to you. You’re appalled. You quickly stand up and storm to his desk to grab your paper so you can leave. You just get your hand on it when you are pushed against the front of the desk by Mr. Barber. He cages you against him and the desk and ruts his obvious erection against your ass. He moves your hair away from the right side of your neck and leans forward to speak directly in your ear. “Where do you think you’re going, honey? I thought you wanted to improve your grade?”

You try to wriggle free but he has too good of a grasp on you now. You realize there is no way out of this. You sigh in defeat and lower your head. “Fine.”

He stops moving. “What was that?” He turns you around so that you’re facing him.

“I said fine. Can we just get this over with?”

He smirks as he backs away a little, enough to give you room to sink to your knees. Which he assists in by pushing on your shoulders.

You adjust yourself so that you’re a little more comfortable before looking from the noticeable sized bulge in his pants back up to his face.

He raises a brow at you. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you shakily reach for his belt and undo it. You glance up to see him peering down at you with lust in his eyes. “Go ahead, honey.”

Without any more hesitation, you undo his pants and push those and his boxers down enough until his cock springs free. Holy shit. You can’t help but take a moment to be impressed. It may not be the longest one you’ve ever seen, but damn was it thick. You weren’t even sure you could get your mouth around it.

He must be able to read your thoughts. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll fit.”

You start with wrapping your hand around the base. Your fingers don’t even meet. It earns you a hiss from your professor. You move a little closer and give a tentative lick to the tip. After that earns you a groan from Professor Barber, whose hands are now in your hair, you give a nice lick from base to tip.

He gently yanks your head back by your hair. “Stop the fucking teasing.”

You smirk but decide to oblige. You hesitantly take him into your mouth, only able to get about half down before having to remove your mouth to take a breath. You were right, your mouth barely fits.

You give a couple more pumps with your hand before trying again. You get a little further than halfway this time. Which seems to please him. “Fuck, just like that honey. What a nice little mouth.”

You begin bobbing your head, still only able to go a little more than halfway. This only continues for a few minutes before you’re being yanked off his cock by your hair.

“You can do better than that. You want that better grade? You’re gonna have to work for it. How about this, just keep your mouth open and I’ll do the rest.”

Before you have a chance to even think of responding, he’s stuffing his cock back into your mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up speed and shoving more and more of it into your mouth each time. You start gagging a little. He stops again. You look up at him, mouth still full of his cock, with a questioning look on your face. He removes his hands from your hair and gestures towards your arms. “Give me your hands.”

You place your hands in his. He takes your hands and plants them on his hips. He then leans forward and places his hands on his desk and looks down at you degradingly. “Hang on tight.”

You barely have time to tighten your hold on him before he starts a punishing pace. The tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. “Ah, Fuck. That’s it. Your throat was made for fucking, honey.”

You just squeeze your eyes shut as you’re having an internal battle in your head. You shouldn’t be enjoying this. But you can feel your panties soaking through. Stupid fucking hot professor with his stupid hot fucking glasses.

His pace starts to become a little sloppy. You can feel him starting to pulse in your mouth. You know he’s close. You start bobbing your head to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna make me cum down that little throat. You want that, honey? Wanna swallow your professor’s cum?”

You let out a moan and give his hips a squeeze to let him know that was more than okay.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before removing himself halfway as he releases his spend down your throat. You make sure to be good and swallow it all before releasing his cock with a ‘pop’. You look up at him as you wipe the sides of your mouth. “Was that okay, Professor?”

He grabs you under your arms so he can lift you up to stand with him. He immediately pulls you in for a heated kiss. Moaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. You go to move closer to him when you feel his erection press into your lower belly. You pull back with surprise. He shrugs and slaps your ass as he goes around the desk to sit in his chair. You turn to face him. He’s pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles and is stroking his cock. “Guess you’re not done earning that good grade yet.”

You look at him in disbelief. “But I did what you asked me to. I sucked you off.”

“Yeah, and that was great. But now I think you need to ride me. Really secure that A+.”

You’re struggling internally again. On the one hand your professor is taking major advantage and could probably get in serious trouble for this. On the other hand, he’s really fucking hot. You shrug your shoulders. Oh well, go big or go home.

You go around the desk and stand in front of him. “Good girl.” You shiver as he reaches under your skirt to remove your ruined panties. Once they fall to the floor, you step out of them. He quickly snatches them up and puts them in one of his desk drawers.

He reaches under your skirt again and grabs at your ass before making his way towards your pussy. You spread your legs apart. You whimper as his fingers make contact with your soaked cunt. “Fuck, honey. All this just from sucking me off?”

You let your head fall back as you nod. He plays with you for a few minutes, from circling your clit to inserting his first two fingers and scissoring them around to open you up for him.

Just when you start grinding down on his hand, he pulls it away. You snap your head up and look at him. He pats his thigh. “Have a seat, honey.”

You go to start straddling him when he pushes you away. “Nuh uh. Turn around.”

You do as you’re told, desperate to get his cock in you. He grabs your hips and moves you backwards until you're in between his spread thighs. You place your palms on his desk in front of you for some balance. He flips up your skirt and helps you lower yourself on his cock, stopping once he gets the tip in, allowing you to take over. “Take your time, honey. Nice and slow, that’s it.”

You let out a whine as you lower yourself down. He is stretching you so fucking good. It takes you a few minutes before you’re fully seated on him. You let out a deep breath as he smacks your ass. “Alright, get to riding, honey.”

You use your legs and your hands that are placed on his desk for leverage as you slowly start to move up and down. He feels incredible. He keeps his hands on your hips to make sure you don’t rise off his cock completely, helping you move. “God damn that’s a tight cunt. You’re so fucking wet for me. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you? Been wanting your professor to fuck you.”

The last sentence wasn’t a question but a statement. There was no denying it. You pick up the pace. “Oh, yes Professor Barber. Been wanting your cock for awhile now.”

He helps you bounce a little faster and smacks your ass. “Yeah? You’re just a little slut aren’t you?”

You shake your head. “Just for you, Professor. Only you.”

“God damn right only me.”

He allows you to continue your pace as he removes his left hand from your hip and moves it under your shirt to get a handful of your breast, making sure to pinch your nipple in the process. It makes you clamp down on him. “Fuck, honey. You like that?”

You’re only capable of a whimper at that point. He goes back and forth between your breasts, pinching here and grabbing there.

You start moving faster, starting to feel your orgasm building. He’s repeatedly hitting your g spot. You moan out. “Right, there Professor. Right there!”

“My little slut gonna cum all over her Professor’s dick?”

You nod. “Need a little help, please Professor.”

He pulls you down fully on his cock and takes his hand out of your shirt and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls your back against his front. You place your hands on his thighs for balance and immediately start grinding your hips, needing friction.

He takes his right hand and moves it in between your legs. You part them a little so he can reach your clit. He rubs tight, rough circles against it. You’re not gonna last long now. You throw your head back against his shoulder and grind even faster on him. “Oh, god! Gonna…gonna cum!”

He speeds up his fingers. “Do it, cum all over my dick honey.”

You only last a few more seconds before you fall off the edge. Your vision goes white. Your release triggers his. You can hear him moan your name as he releases inside you.

Both of you continue to move to ride out your highs, eventually coming to a stop to catch your breaths. And then it’s silent.

He’s the first to break it.

He presses a kiss against the side of your head. “I love you.”

You giggle and move your hips a little, knowing he’s sensitive. This earns you a slight pinch on your thigh. “I love you too…Professor.”

He chuckles and helps you stand up, keeping his hands on your hips as he stands with you, knowing you’re a little unsteady on your feet. He carefully turns you around. You look up at him with a big smile on your face. He mirrors it and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. “How was that?”

You bite your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around his waist. “It was perfect.”

He shakes his head as he leans down for a quick kiss. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into doing it in my classroom.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It made the fantasy more believable.”

He rolls his eyes as he kisses your forehead. “You and your fantasies.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy them. Besides, next time it’s your turn.”

He raises a brow at you. “Oh, yeah? I’ll have to get creative.”

Now you roll your eyes playfully at him. You turn around and tap his phone to check on the time. “Shit! It’s already 5:45. I told the babysitter I’d be back by 6.”

He juts out his bottom lip in a pout. “Just text her and tell her your husband isn’t done with you yet.”

You smack his shoulder. “Oh my god, Andrew I didn’t tell her the real reason I needed a babysitter! She thinks I just had an appointment.”

He smirks. “Well, you did. A dick appointment.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m married to a cheeseball like you.”

“Say what you want, but this cheeseball’s cum is currently running down your thigh.

You hated when he was right. Which reminded you. “Can I have my panties back?”

He shakes his head. “No way. You have to drive home like that. Wasn’t the babysitter curious as to why you were dressed like that?”

You look down at your provocative school girl outfit you bought especially for this. “I changed in the car. But I don’t have another pair of panties.”

He shrugs. “Sucks to be you.”

You scoff at him. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too, honey.”

You go around the desk and grab your bag off the floor. You walk back over to your husband as he’s buckling his belt into place. “Are you coming home right away?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Because of your little distraction, I didn’t get all the papers graded that I needed to. I’ll probably be home around 8.”

You nod and lean up on your tiptoes for a last kiss. “Okay, well be careful coming home.”

“Always, honey. Your professor is always careful.”

Tags: @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit @bluemusickid

#andy x reader #andy barber #professor barber #andy x y/n #glasses #andy barber smut #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #sorry not sorry #glasses kink #professor kink

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ssunkissedsunflowerss · 1 year

Text

“Say yes to heaven, say yes to me”

Request by @anonymous

Hey! I know this is kind of a weirdish request, but could you write like a really long fluff piece for lesso? Long fluffy fics always bring me loads of comfort. Tysm! I love your writing & your style, it's so beautiful to read

i do hope 3940+ words for pure fluff fic is considered long enough. if i add more, it would take me some more time to write and i feel like i have you waiting long enough already so hopefully this many words can scratch an itch, dear anon. crossing my fingers that this will be delivered to your fingertips 🤞🏻

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Wisps of fire dances under the sunlight. Their golden glow is peculiarly hypnotising, very reminiscent of the sparklers that you love to play as a child. Even as an adult, you allow yourself the occasional indulgence in such nostalgias for they offer you a sense of childish glee.

Have you ever felt the irresistible urge to throw yourself off the edge while standing atop some place high, a building, a balcony, a bridge? You do not dare look down not because you are afraid of heights or of falling but because you are afraid that one day, your impulses will win.

Today seems to be that fated day. Now, the bright oranges and reds are beckoning you to touch them. To their demands, you dance. Like a lamb to the slaughter, naive fingers dive into a sea of fire. It does not ravish. It caresses. Soft flames gingerly lick your flesh as your digits seek the heart of the burning red.

By the time you shower her scalp with gentle scratches, the bundle of warmth in your arms has melted into liquid butter, creamy skin very nearly becoming one with the creamy sheets. A sultry hum that you can both hear, and feel through lips moving against the dip in your throat is spine-tinglingly husky. A dollop of honey in a tumbler of rum that when consumed, douses you with pleasant heat.

Although you always go to bed nestled snugly in your cosy little haven, by morning, you always find a majestic fox taking sanctuary in your arms. Said fox, sly as she is, stamps tiny, delicate kisses to your neck, nuzzles your jaw with her soft little nose before emerging out of her hiding spot. You drown in her eyes, a mesmerising sage green, sprinkled with little specks of brown in the middle, that dissolve into rings of dark forest green.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You greet her with a kiss on the lips.

She on the other hand is smiling against your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with peppermint kisses. “Who are you calling a sleepyhead, hm?”

“Who, I wonder.” You squint your eyes as if deep in thought.

It earns you a chuckle coupled with a poke on the nose. “Can you blame me, ma chérie. You make it hard for me to get up.”

“Oh, so I am to blame then?”

You watch her eyes twinkle with mirth. The subtle curve of her lips grow into a sly little grin. She dismisses your question altogether, chooses instead to lock you in her arms.

“Come. Let’s be sleepyheads.”

“No can do.” Even though you come within a hair’s breadth of being caged in those stubbornly unyielding arms, you manage to successfully roll out of bed before being completely caught. “We have much to do today, Leo.” A pout has settled atop her lips, and when she moves to sneakily snatch you on your waist, once again, you succeed in dodging the surprise attack. The cherry on top has been getting to stick your tongue out at your lover as you flee the room with a wink that screams downright sass. “Get out of bed if you want me back in your arms, naughty fox.”

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“Naughty fox, was it?”

“I’ll show you how naughty I can be.”

You have no idea what you have hoped to gain by taunting the very personification of sly-as-a-fox. Consequences are a certainty. When the lowly husked threat has trickled like ice down your spine, you certainly have not been expecting to physically feel cubes after cubes of ice being shoved down your hoodie. To your horror, you find that the sly fox has not only tucked your shirt into your pants but also cinched the waistband tight to trap the unforgiving coldness there.

Willowy arms encircling your waist, you are hauled onto the kitchen counter. They keep you confined, offering you no reprieve from the icy torture. Trapped and helpless, freezing and suffering, all you can do is to bombard her back with tamed punches while you writhe and wiggle like a worm being exposed to salt.

“Leo!! It’s cold!! Cold!! Leo!”

“Well, it is ice darling. Ice is supposed to be cold. What do you expect?”

“Alright! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, I’ll do anything. Just stop, Leo!”

Intrigued by your bold statement, she seeks your eyes. “Oh?” An elegant eyebrow arches. “Anything?”

“Yes! God, yes! Anything. Now, put me down please.”

She complies, face the very picture of a cat that has gotten the cream. As soon as your fluffy-socked feet touch the floor, trembling fingers scramble to untie the knot of your sweatpants. When you try but fail, lithe fingers join you, dexterous in their movements as the knot is freed and subsequently you, of your suffering. Ice cubes clatter to the floor. Sneaky hands, meanwhile, have found purchase on your ribcage. The very tips of her thumbnails playfully grazing the tender flesh just beneath your breasts has your lips falling open in a gasp.

You swat her forearm reproachfully.

“Naughty is an understatement. You are an evil fox.”

Soft lips fall atop the little furrow between your eyebrows. After one, two, three, four kisses have tumbled down the slope of your nose, the fifth one is perched atop the very tip.

“Why thank you, sweetheart.”

It is crooned along with the sixth which is bestowed upon your lips.

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As warm flavours explode on your tongue after you have bitten into the sugary, creamy goodness, a moan has been your first instantaneous reaction. Then come the stars, bursting in your eyes as you marvel at the chef with those big, wide twinkles.

“What is this witchery?”

Four fingers and a thumb bookcase your cheeks.

“That, darling, is the art of baking.”

Tilting your head a touch, the little pout of your lips is met by a pair of succulent lips. A tender caress at first that escalates into gentle suckles. The milkiness and tiny glittering grains resting on and around your lips are meticulously plucked by the tip of a tongue.

Once satisfied, she hums, “Hmm, delicious, is it not?”

You feign disbelief at her query, mouth falling open. “Delicious? It’s scrumptiously divine!”

“I made yours extra creamy, practically doused it with icing. Do you like it?”

Another hearty bite into the sweet swirls renders you speechless. The fluffiness of the bread is impeccable; cinnamon sugar joins the thick, heavy cream as it melts on your tongue. Although every one of her baked goods always has you giddy like a kid in a candy shop, cinnamon rolls, in particular, are like ice cream in a room full of lollipops. You savour the taste of heaven tucked into a bun, reaffirming once more that they are indeed your lover’s best work.

“Like is an understatement. You make the-”So busy licking your fingers are you that you do not mind when you are cut off, delighted even that she knows you like the back of her hand. “-most heavenly cinnamon rolls in the entire universe, yeah yeah I get that quite a lot.”

With a pop, your finger is released, and you turn towards her at breakneck speed, stare her straight in the eyes.

“I would marry you if I could.”

“Oh darling,…” Crooned the woman in an apron. “…flattered though I am, I’ll have to stop you right there. These hands,…” Your eyes are immediately drawn towards those tantalisingly long digits. When they wiggle, you gulp. “…as dexterous as they are,…” She leans in, whispers conspiratorially. “…bake, and then some for only one person.”

After a beat, she winks. “My girlfriend.”

“Oooooh, lucky them.”

Index and middle fingers walk along toned forearms, teasing the edge of her rolled up shirt sleeve. A hand halts them by capturing your wrist. They are instead brought over to lips so soft that, when a kiss is pressed onto your fingertips, it is like touching silk.

“Lucky them indeed.” She initiates eye contact, and you hold it, unwavering. “You should teach them how to bake.”

“Oh I did,…” Fingers intertwine. A hand finds home just shy of your hipbone. “…over and over and over and over again, I might add.”

“And?”

“It’s great luck that we still have a place to call home.”

“Wow! You may be an excellent cook but you are a terrible teacher.”

Her hand has abandoned your hip in favour of pinching your nose betwixt a middle and a fore finger. “It’s not my fault that you’re always so scatterbrained.”

Meanwhile, her cheeks are sandwiched between the palm of your hands. “It’s not my fault that the love of my life is always so annoyingly, distractingly drop dead gorgeous.” You squish her soft cheeks before punctuating your argument by capturing her adorable little puckered lips. Your kiss, to her annoyance, is delivered with an audible, exaggerated “mmmmwah”.

More often than not, when you are being overly affectionate with your woman, her expression may suggest repulsion but you know better than to let it perturb you. What can be read on her face is usually the exact opposite of what she is feeling. You have understood since the very beginning that she is an intricacy, and after a few years spent together, mastered the art of discerning her innermost emotions.

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A beanie sitting snugly around your head, toes and fingers enveloped in thick socks and gloves, swaddled in at least three layers of clothes, bar the long coat, you are being carefully wrapped up like a Christmas present. Your beloved girlfriend has taken it upon herself to make certain that you are well dressed for your winter outing.

There has been a time when you have come home one chilly evening rudolph-nosed and shivering. Having unfortunately overestimated your tolerance for cold, accidentally underdressing for one day has left you with a terrible flu that has lasted for more than a week. Not only has she patiently and carefully nurtured you back to health, going forward, she will also go into protective mommy bird mode whenever you leave so much as a finger unprotected, especially during winter.

Currently, she is wrapping a muffler scarf around your neck on top of the turtlenecked sweater that she has already dressed you in.

“You act as if you did not just shove ice down my spine. Literally.”

“That’s exactly the point, sweetheart. Only I, your evil fox, get to torment you, my little lover.” Lips touch your nose, but a soft, fleeting caress. “Not even the weather is allowed to.”

Even though the cold is not necessarily your cup of tea, and it, too, is not Leo’s, she is not as affected by it as you are. Weak though you are against winter, you adore the weather. Leo on the other hand neither loves nor hates it. At the same time, while you love celebrating Christmas, she is not so much an enjoyer of festivities as a love-sick woman keeping her little lover company.

If you are the sun, then, Leo is the cloud hovering protectively in front of you.

Even now, while you look every bit the picture of a meticulously wrapped parcel, she looks as bare as the Christmas tree that the two of you have yet to finish decorating. She has on her body her signature white dress-shirt layered with a sweater over it with midnight jeans for pants, finishing it all off with a muffler scarf and a long coat. The both of which, aside from colours, entirely matches with yours. Compared to her other fashionable pieces, the sweater looks extremely out of place, the only thing that does not belong in her immaculate wardrobe.

You have just begun trying your hand at knitting, and the sweater has been your very first product. It is created with your lover in mind, but as a result of you deciding to get boldly creative on your first try, what is supposed to be a fiery red fox looks either like a rat or a dog that is terribly malnourished.

You have certainly thought that at worst, it would be fed to the trash can, and at best, it would be tucked into the darkest nook of her wardrobe never to be seen again. The more wishful part of you dares hope that she will wear it at home at the very least. You cannot both believe your eyes and stop staring at your woman when she appears in front of you, dressed in what you have knitted diligently, uniquely for her. She makes even the wackiest of colours arrestingly grand and you remember a small part of you thinking that it should be considered criminal. Meanwhile, the rest of you have been busy admiring her with unabashed wonderment.

If you have not seen your lover rocking questionable attires that will certainly look ridiculous on other people, you would have had half a mind to believe that she is the quintessence of beauty-is-in-the-eye-of-the-beholder. Not only do they look splendidly fine on your woman, it is not your personal opinion but rather a collective agreement that everything will suit her to a tee. After all, you have heard people marvelling at her elegance, seen heads turning towards her direction, which solidifies it as a fact instead of an opinion.

So filled to near bursting with love is your heart that you do not even notice, and if you do, you cannot care less that the two of your are inside a relatively crowded coffee shop when you have trapped her in your arms and attacked her with kisses.

Presently, you are stood outside the same coffee shop that is frequented by the two of you. The snowman out front has caught your attention. Hence, you have decided to wait by it while your wife goes back inside to order more hot drinks as per your friends’ messaged requests. It is amidst making a snowman of your own that you are approached by another. Since you are engrossed in giving the snow version of your girlfriend a face, you have thought whoever is sitting beside you to be the human version of your girlfriend.

“Who is that supposed to be?”

The unfamiliar voice, too gruff that it grates your ears instead of softly caressing them the way Leo’s does, startles you. The uncomfortably close proximity that you find upon turning makes you grimace. As you back away, you unfortunately trip on the thick lump of snow, but the imminent impact never comes. If it does, the ground that receives you has gentle arms that wind protectively around your waist.

There is no mistaking the hands that have explored every square inch of your body. All too happily, you melt into the solid wall of flesh behind you. While you look up at your lover, she gazes down at you, the furrows between her eyebrows ebbing away once a smile blossoms on your lips.

“Her.” You say this to the person still standing before you. “That is supposed to be her, my Leo.”

They either decide to ignore the obvious signs or are insufferably oblivious because instead of leaving the two of you alone, they do the exact opposite. They step closer.

“You’ve got a little something-”

Your guardian angel, of course, is not going to stand idly by and watch as someone else tries to touch you. So, she does the only thing she can; she plucks your chin delicately between a thumb and a forefinger, before angling your head a certain way so that she can lean down to capture your lips. Just like that, the false moustache is kissed clean. The kiss that is meant to ward off the unwanted advancer may have gotten a little out of hand but it does get the job done, because by the time your lips unstick, the bystander is no longer standing. You do not know, cannot care less, when exactly they have disappeared.

“Your nose is starting to resemble that of a rudolph, darling.”

Along with a second muffler that falls onto your shoulder, you are additionally pulled into her coat, being cocooned in her embrace. It is not the added fabric, you realise, but rather being nestled snugly against her body that makes the noticeable difference. Layers after layers of fabric cannot compare to the lovely heat that your lover radiates. Wings almost protrude from your heart and send the little creature soaring high into the sky when you feel warm lips on your forehead. They trace your hairline with satiny-soft kisses.

────────────────────

When you feel the beanie suddenly being lifted off your head, you are not expecting it to find itself back in place just as quickly. The difference however is palpable, for the chill seems to instantly seep into your skull. You cannot help the shriek that escapes your mouth when more handfuls of snow are being dumped into your sweater.

Instantly, your lover is hot on the heels of the culprits. While she tackles one to the ground, the other manages to escape. The unlucky one turns out to be Dovey, wrestled onto the thick blanket of snow and subsequently being turned into a snow burrito. Having successfully avoided becoming a snow burrito herself, Anemone cackles like a madwoman at the suffering of her partner in crime. Her victory is but transient. She is proved to be the unluckier of the two as soon as a sizeable ball of snow collides with her face. With most of the snow going straight into her open mouth, poor Anemone is left to cough and sputter. After getting rid of the snow inside both your beanie and sweater, you join the fray just in time to assist your lover while she is being double-teamed.

And thus, begins war. The four of you spend a good minute running and rolling in a white velveteen sea, screaming and giggling like a bunch of toddlers. The war ends with both ally and enemy teams creating snow angels. Afterwards, since Leo has not been able to wait in line until her turn arrives, for she has practically run to your side, the four of you find yourself once again in the coffee shop.

While you and Anemone have taken the duty of finding a spot to sit and chat, the two best friends have agreed to go and place the orders.

“How you get the grinch to enjoy Christmas is beyond my comprehension. Always was and always will be.” grumbles Anemone as she plops herself down on the couch opposite you.

“Is she truly that fussy? She has always complied with my wishes without any complaints.”

“Ugh, you have no idea!”

You do not get to expand further on the subject for Leo and Dovey return with your drinks almost immediately.

Having a sweet tooth, but at the same time, not wanting to go for something overly sweet, you have ordered a chocolate drink. From dark chocolate fudges, chocolate wafers, warm drizzles of milk chocolate to fluffy white cream dusted with dark chocolate, it has everything that will satisfy your cravings as well as balance the sweetness with a hint of bitterness.

Finding upon taking a sip that Leo, too, will find it palatable, you offer the drink to her. She obliges as she always does with you, but between eating with a spoon and sipping through the straw, she chooses neither. Instead, you are rendered pleasantly surprised by her mouth finding yours.

“Get a room.”

The groan from Anemone does nothing to make her budge. If her friend has wanted her to stop with her comment, it has an entirely opposite effect.

“Get a lover if you’re jealous.”

While poor Anemone almost chokes on her drink again, Dovey cannot help but laugh into her hand.

“Ouchie.”

What you love about their friendship is that regardless of the endless quips being thrown around like nobody’s business, they have gone past the point of being truly offended by them. The three of them go way back, and over the course of time, their friendship has evolved into a familial bond. Leo has not only waltzed into your life alone but she has also brought with her, and subsequently into your life, Dovey and Anemone, who have welcomed you with open arms. You feel infinitely lucky to be a part of this little family.

From catching up with each other’s lives to reminiscing about the days of yore, the four of you talk about anything and everything. Even though you can still go on for days and never run out of things to say, the shop needs to close. So it is with great reluctance that you part ways. By the time goodbyes have been said, stars are already hanging overhead.

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Delightful twinkles and colourful Christmas lights light your way home as the pair of you walk hand in hand. Your interlaced fingers are hidden in the pocket of your lover’s coat.

“Do you remember the very first time our paths crossed?”

“How can I forget? I spilled coffee onto you.”

“That, my darling, was not how you first caught my eye.” Puzzled and intrigued, you search her face. When she meets your gaze, you marvel at their beauty. It is as if the fallen stars have found sanctuary in her eyes. “Have you ever wondered that perhaps you bumping into me was my carefully crafted machination?”

“Was it, now?”

A perfect eyebrow arches. “Do I seem the type to ask someone for compensation through coffee dates had I not been interested in them in the first place?”

“Oh, so they had been dates! I thought I was just, well, compensating you for ruining your pristine white shirt.”

“Silly girl.”

“You were still charmed by this silly girl, were you not?”

“Indeed I was, and I am, still.”

“In all seriousness, Leo, from the very beginning, the feelings were incredibly mutual.”

“I know, darling. I waited for a while to see if you would make the first move.”

“I’ve never told you this before but the coffee that was spilled onto you…it was bought with you in mind. Although our methods were not entirely flawless, we both got what we wanted in the end.”

“Each other.”

It is under a lamppost that she stops you.

“You said you’d do anything.” It seems like there is more to her words than that, so you poise for elaboration. Out of the blue, she falls to one knee, and you watch with bated breath as her hand disappears into the other coat pocket. The hand, once vacant, returns with a small velvet box.

“Say yes to me.”

“As it so happens…” Fishing out your own velveteen box, you mirror her stance. “I’ll say yes only if you do too.”

The shocked expression on her face dissolves into a smile before the both of you let out a laugh in unison.

“Were you carrying it around everywhere you went?”

“No. I requested Anemone to pick it up for me on her way. You?”

“Same but Dovey.”

“Well, what will you say, woman?”

“There is only one correct answer.”

“Which is?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“Then, without question, my answer is also yes.”

They are both simple platinum bands with a single gem in the middle. While the band with gem the hue of Leo’s hair comes to rest on your ring finger, the band with gem the shade of your eyes goes to find home on your wife’s ring finger.

“Oh my dearest Leo, I love you so.”

When you throw yourself into her arms, she receives you with great enthusiasm. Standing up with you locked tightly in her embrace, she spins the two of you around before your vows are sealed with a kiss.

“I love you more, my darling angel.”

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#lady lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso #leonora lesso #charlize theron #school for good and evil #sge #sge netflix #sge movie #clarissa dovey #professor dovey #emma anemone #anemone #fluffy #fluff #now i can start working on andromache 🌝#andy daddy here i come

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sunshinebuckybarnes · 2 years

Text

she's a good girl

Pairing: Professor!Andy Barber x female!reader

Summary: Your subtle efforts to seduce your professor haven’t gone unnoticed.

Warnings: petnames (sweetheart, honey), sir kink, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (reader is early 20s), smut; oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: Professor!Andy has been on my mind for a while now that I just had to write for him! I hope I’ve shown two sides to him in this, the dominating ‘I know what I want and I’m going to have it’ side and the sweet ‘let me take care of you’ side. (word count: 2.3k)

You take a deep breath before knocking quietly on the door. A gruff “come in” sounding from the otherside after what felt like an eternity. Your nerves were on fire and you could hear your heartbeat thundering. Taking a deep breath, you plaster an innocent smile on your face as you enter the room.

“Hi Professor, you wanted to see me?” you smile, closing the door behind you.

Andy Barber was a prominent force both physically and mentally. He was smart, successful, witty and held a subtle humour that you found endearing. He was one of the most attractive men you had ever met. He also happened to be your Law Professor.

He regards you from his seat behind his desk for a moment. His eyes trailing down your body before making their way back up. It takes everything in your power not to squirm under his dark gaze. He gestures to the empty seat in front of you and you take a seat, biting back a smirk at the way his gaze narrows in on your bare thigh as your skirt rides up.

“Want to tell me what’s been going on recently?”

“I don’t understand, sir,” you feign innocence.

“Why don’t I enlighten you then, huh?” he speaks slowly, pushing away from his desk to stand up.

“You’re a bright student, one of my best this semester,” he stalks around his desk, slowly making his way towards the door. You keep your eyes ahead of you, trying to keep your breathing under control as the timbre of his voice seeps its way under your skin.

“Yet your last two papers have been lacking.”

You hear the click of the door locking.

“Your attire has also become more notable, especially with these short skirts.”

You gasp when you feel his hands rest lightly on your shoulders.

“But don’t get me wrong, I have been enjoying seeing the lengths you’ll go to get my attention.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stutter, your eyes still facing ahead as you try not to lean into his touch. The feel of his large hands on your shoulders, the intoxicating smell of him, it’s all almost too much for you to handle. The confidence you felt before walking into his office slowly ebbing away.

His dark chuckle has your thighs clenching as he moves to sit on the edge of his desk in front of you. Your eyes widening at the clear evidence of his arousal in his trousers.

“Are you really going to play dumb, sweetheart? We both know you’re not that stupid.”

Your gaze meets his expectant one. Your true desires are on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t get them out. You want to tell him how you think about him at night, when you’re all alone, touching yourself to the thought of how he’d feel, how he’d taste. But instead, you stay silent, your eyes locked on him. You can hear the clock on the wall ticking away, each sound louder than the last as the tension stretches between you.

“I expected more from you, sweetheart,” he sighs, the look of disappointment you catch in his eyes has your heart breaking as he stands up ready to head back to the door.

“Please, sir,” you blurt, your hand grasping his forearm before he can move any further, “I, um, I,” you stumble over your words, your eyes pleading with him to stop playing this game.

Andy leans into your space, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, caging you in. His nose brushes yours slightly and you can’t stop the small whimper that leaves your lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “all you’ve got to do is say the words and you can have everything you want.”

His lips are so close to yours, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you utter the words you’ve only dreamt of saying to him.

“Please fuck me, sir.”

“Good girl,” Andy growls before he’s gripping your chin and crashing his lips to yours.

His kiss takes you off guard, his grip on your jaw bruising as he dominates your mouth. Your hands come up to cup his face, his beard scratching your palms and sending a shiver through you - you can’t wait to see how his beard feels against your thighs.

Andy kisses you until you're a breathless, pliant mess in his hands. He lets out a gravelly chuckle as you try and chase his lips when he pulls away.

“What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?” he breathes, taking in your swollen lips and lust hazed eyes.

With a renewed sense of confidence you take his free hand in yours, slowly directing his touch under your skirt. The muttered fuck that falls from his lips when his fingers come into contact with your wetness has fire burning in your veins.

“Maybe you’re not a good girl,” Andy groans, his grip on your jaw tightening as one of his fingers slowly circles your clit, “coming in here wearing no underwear? That’s not behaviour I think I should reward.”

“Are you going to punish me, sir?” you moan as his finger keeps teasing you.

“I am,” he sighs, pulling away from you entirely and lowering himself to his knees.

Andy’s large hands brush over the skin of your thighs, pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as he sees your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself.

“Please,” you whine, desperate for him to touch you.

Andy hooks his hands under your knees, pulling you down to the edge of the chair so your pussy is directly in front of his face. His lips are soft against the inside of your thigh as he chains kisses across your skin.

“I thought you were going to punish me,” you giggle as his beard scratches your thigh deliciously.

He looks up at you with a smirk that has your laugh catching in your throat, “oh, sweetheart. First I’m going to eat this tight little cunt because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for a month. Then I’m going to bend you over my desk and spank you for being a desperate slut. And then, I’m going to fuck you so you know exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

You moan at his words, your head falling back against the chair. You yelp when Andy’s palm slaps lightly against your clit, your head snapping forward to lock eyes with him.

“You’re going to watch me take you apart and you’re going to ask permission before you come, do you understand?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head, whispering a small “yes, sir.”

That’s all Andy needs to hear before he’s diving in. He licks a broad stripe from your hole to your clit, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he holds your legs open.

You try your best to keep quiet, very aware that you're in his office in the middle of the afternoon but the way Andy’s tongue moves against you makes it increasingly difficult. When Andy wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he growls, lapping up everything you have to offer.

He leans back slightly, spitting on your wet lips before pushing two thick fingers inside of you. You bite your palm in an attempt to keep quiet, your muffled moans and whimpers like music to Andy’s ears.

“So tight and wet, can’t wait to feel you around my cock,” Andy groans, watching his fingers slide in and out of your pussy, the wet sounds causing your face to heat up.

You can feel the coil inside of you tightening as Andy begins to curl his fingers, hitting you right where you need him.

“Sir, please,” you whine, your fingers gripping on the arms of the chair.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” Andy murmurs against your folds, his tongue flicking your clit in time with the curl of his fingers.

“Fuck, please can I come, sir?”

Andy’s fingers speed up, his eyes locking on your pleading ones, murmuring “come for me” before latching onto your clit. The pleasure you feel as the coil snaps has your body trembling in Andy’s grip. He doesn’t let up as you ride each wave of pleasure, struggling to hold in your cries as he drags your orgasm out.

“So perfect, sweetheart, and so good for me,” Andy murmurs, his lust blown eyes never leaving your face as he watches you settle into a post bliss haze.

You don’t get time to catch your breath before Andy is tugging you out of your seat, his lips crashing on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan against his lips, your hands carding through his hair as he presses your body firmly against his own.

Andy spins you causing you to gasp. His large palm lays between your shoulders, pressing your body down until it’s flush with the hard wood of his desk.

His hand slides down your back, gripping your skirt and lifting it to bare your ass. Andy hums as his hand smoothes over your backside.

“Gonna need you to count for me, I think 20 will do, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh, buzzing with anticipation for your punishment.

“Good girl,” Andy hums before his palm cracks down on your cheek.

You count each slap. Your cries grow louder with each crack of his hand but you can’t find it in you to care - Andy sure as hell didn’t seem phased. By the time he reaches 20 you’re trembling against his desk, your skin is on fire and you’re wetter than you’ve ever been.

You shudder when you feel Andy’s lips kiss your heated skin. The tender contrast to the punishment he just delivered sends your mind spinning.

“Took your punishment so well, sweetheart,” he whispers against the skin of your ass, his hands rubbing softly, “you okay to keep going?”

His question surprises you but it sends a welcome warmth through you. A smile tugs at your lips as you lift yourself to rest on your forearms, tilting your head over your shoulder to look at him.

“I’ve never been better,” you smile, “please fuck me, sir.”

The way you wiggle your ass causes him to let out a breathy laugh and you decide then that it is your new favourite sound.

“Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl for me,” Andy murmurs as he undoes his belt, shoving his trousers and boxers down enough to release his cock.

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and the whispered shit that falls from your lips. Andy looks nothing but smug as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t think that was much of a punishment, you’re fucking soaked,” he groans as he rubs the tip of his hard cock against your entrance.

You try to push your hips back but he plants a firm hand on your lower back to keep you in place. The two of you groan in unison as he pushes into you slowly. The stretch burns slightly but it just adds to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, sir, you feel so good,” you moan as he slowly draws his hips back before slamming into you.

His hands grip onto your hips tightly as he sets a slow, languid pace, letting you feel every inch of him. The sound of skin slapping and your restrained moans filling his office.

“Feel like heaven, shit, can feel you’re close already,” Andy growls, one hand reaching out to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back causing an almost painful arch in your back but it gives him more access to hit you exactly where you need it.

“Yes, right there, sir, please can I come?” you beg, your hips matching each of his thrusts as you chase your release.

“Fuck, come for me, sweetheart, come all over my cock.”

Your mind goes blank, your body boneless as the euphoria of your orgasm hits you. You're vaguely aware of Andy’s praises raining over you as you tremble under him. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you.

Andy releases your hair, letting you rest against the desk as he leans over your back, caging you in against his desk.

He please sweet kisses against your cheek, his hands running down your sides as his cock softens inside of you.

“Are you doing okay, honey?”

The soft lilt to his voice has butterflies swarming in your stomach as you give him a soft smile over your shoulder, “I’m doing great.”

He smiles back at you, slowly pulling out and pulling your skirt back down before he helps you up and turns you to face him. Taking your face in both his hands, Andy leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You hum against him, your hands holding onto his wrists as you sink into the kiss.

His office phone ringing makes you jump as you break away from him. The haze breaks as the gravity of what just happened sets in. Andy feels you tense against him and pulls you in closer as he answers the phone.

“Andy Barber.”

You watch him from under your lashes as he listens, offering the odd hum in response.

“I’ve had something come up so I’m going to have to take the rest of the day off, please reschedule the rest of my office hours for the day and I’ll see you on Monday.”

You can’t help but look confused as he puts the phone down, turning back to you with a grin.

“Well my afternoon just became free, want to get out of here, honey?”

That’s all the reassurance you need as you lean up to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

Oh Professor!Andy has me whipped!! Thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ❤️✨

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fic #andy barber smut #professor!andy barber

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amathslutsguidetofandom · 1 month

Text

INFINITE SOLUTIONS

AU: Law!Professor!Andy Barber x Math!Professor!Reader

SUMMARY: MIT is famously known for its high level of education. What happens if it's not only filled with knowledge? What if it is also filled with confusion? Confusion of a new, hard-working Mathematics professor? A professor who might be falling in love with her fellow co-worker? What if that co-worker was in the Law faculty? What if that Law professor is Andrew "Andy" Barber?

WARNINGS: Swearing, smut (in some chapters), some mathematical terms( dw you don't have to know it :)), angst (watch out y'all.) (Each chapter will have its own individual warnings.)

Snippet (a teaser if you will)

CHAPTERS:

CHP 1

#andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber #andy barber angst #professor!andy barber #professor!reader #professor!andy barber x professor!reader

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valleyfae · 2 years

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because i miss andy cock warming with professor andy. he called you into his office after a lecture and noticed that you were struggling so he offered to tutor you. he finds out to get distracted easily and need something as motivated like a reward.

I miss Andy too!! The “professor trope” is one of my favorites, especially with professor Barber!!

Dialogue masterlist

The faint sound of Andy’s hushes and your frustrated huffs break the silence of your concentration. His left hand tenderly strokes your arms as he firmly but gently reassures you and reminds you of the plan the two of you agreed upon just a few hours earlier.

Textbook and notes sprawled out on your professor's desk; your palms grow sweaty. The unignorable pulse of your clit further dampens your cotton panties have slipped to the side, giving Andy access to carefully stretch you out.

Impatiently squirming on Andy’s lap, struggling to read your notes but instead letting out a meek whimper, voice croaked, nuzzling your head back into his chest.

Holding back an amused chuckle, Andy coos, "not even a page left. Come on, sweetheart, you’re doing so well for me." He traces his hands down your writhing figure, holding your thighs down further, stretching your entrance.

You restlessly clench around Andy, desperate for his cock. Your face gone completely hot, embarrassment bubbling in your abdomen, your mind blurs blank, thoughts fuzzy, you cannot formulate a response, lost in the overwhelming lust and frustration.

"Poor girl. Are you feeling that needy?" His tone turns into a slight mock; he restrains you from bucking your hips. "Can you not finish? Pretty cunt can’t handle it, huh?"

"P-Please, sir," you mumble, instinctively grasping Andy’s muscular thighs and pressing the clammy palms of your hands against the fabric of his dress pants. "I can’t finish. I’m s— I’m sorry, s-sir," you sheepishly apologize.

"That’s alright, my smart little girl works so hard, so so hard." He gropes your supple flesh, welcoming you to fall lax onto his body. "Relax for me, angel. I got you."

Andy wraps his arms around your waist, trailing his fingers to your throbbing clit, radiating heat as you arch your back, hungry for friction. You take a deep breath, inhaling Andy’s distinct cologne and shifting your head; you nuzzle your whimpers into his neck as the rough pads of two of his fingers teasingly skim your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Shh." He whispers assertively, slowly circling your clit with his fingers. "Be a good girl for me, and I’ll let you cum."

#fran’s dialogues #professor!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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biteofcherry · 7 months

Text

professor!Andy Barber x reader

🎒🎒🎒

Your rushed footsteps echoed in the empty corridor as you rushed through the almost empty now halls of the eldest university building on campus. There was still five minutes left, but you hated being late. It always made you uncomfortable, thinking that you made a poor impression, or appeared neglectful. This wasn't the picture you wanted professor Barber to have of you. Not at first, at least. It was so fucking hard to get into PhD program in his academic department, you were adamant on maintaining your spot. But this part of the campus - the old buildings, resembling medieval castle grounds, bathed in gloom and ghosts of past academics - it distracted you. Called out to you, as if the buildings and spirits were already welcoming you in their midst. You hoped professor Barber would be welcoming, as well.

based on this autumn aesthetic poll

🍂 all autumn aesthetic moodboards 🍂

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber moodboard #andy barber aesthetic #professor!andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber imagine #autumn aesthetic moodboard #moodboard

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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

Note

Hi 👋🏻 um, I don't know if you still take requests (I'm so sorry if not 👉🏼🥺👈🏼) but I'm in a bit of a ❗critical❗ situation here. I might die.

Because of this slut of a man:

The lifesaver would be a really Smutty™️, preferably professor!au oneshot with either Chris/Steve/Andy, and reader. 🫣 You're the one writer I can trust with something like this without fail, everytime. 💞

Okay imma go now, thanks for reading all this bye 😩🥵

Thank you for having so much faith in me!! This isn’t super smutty, but there’s definite smut and spice and I hope you still like it!

With his sweater rolled up to his elbows and his thick rimmed glasses, you would think that Andy Barber would be nothing but the friendly professor that everyone seemed to like. On the surface, he was one of the best professors you could get in this course and you were really grateful for him.

On the surface, you should have been grateful for all of your academic and brilliant scholarly professors, however there were two specifically that had you caught unaware. There were two professors who had made every day interactions in the classroom seem far more intense than usual.

With professor Barber, he made the rudimentary subject of the historical significance of Shakespeare come to life.

Professor Rogers and his iron backbone had made your history classes and courses as exciting as you expect, however he was not a pushover.

Neither of them were, really.

But no one would have expected the favourite professors to be such ruthless men, especially when it came to your pleasure.

Hedonism, they were incredibly aware of what they were doing.

And with a single appearance of Professor Rogers in your English literature history class had been astutely wonderful for your class.

But ever torturous for you.

With Professor Barbers’ soft sweaters, and Professor Rogers’ button downs, both of which were rolled to their elbows, their glasses and messily styled hair, it was torture.

It was torture having them both in the classroom, and it was torture knowing that they were adding a level of fun to this entire situation.

“Life imitates art,” Professor Rogers had clicked the button on a remote, simultaneously creating an unfair buzzing that radiated from between your legs, and reminded you that you were being punished, “art is about emotive responses to the challenges life throws at you.”

“Are you going to be good? Are you going to be our good girl?” It wasn’t enough that they were your professors, they were also paying your college tuition and in exchange you were theirs.

It was more than a sexual relationship, it was emotional. They were completely and wholly yours, they had dedicated themselves to you as your benefactors and boyfriends.

“Are you willing to push yourself?” You clamped down on your tongue, stifling the moan as the vibrator shoved into your pussy had increased in volume, controlled not just by Steve but by Andy as well.

“Are you willing to do whatever it takes to understand the complexities of life?” He smirked, piercing eyes fixated on you.

Another set of vibrations had started, soft clamps on your nipples had added another layer of pleasurable pressure that almost made you buckle and cave. While you were being surrounded by students, your body was pliantly and physically being toyed with even from a distance.

It was an amazement in itself that no one heard their toys, let alone could sense your lack of focus.

“I think that’s enough for today, Steve.” Andy stood and addressed the class, his hands resting on his hips as he scoured the crowd and then smiled nonchalantly. “Have a great weekend, remember to have your chosen study handed in by Monday. You had three weeks to complete it, don’t be late.”

You started to gather your things, desperately seeking an escape. You shoved your books into your backpack and stood, your thighs and legs shaking when you put pressure on them and you’d wondered if anyone would be able to notice your state of being.

“A moment, Y/N.” Steve raised his hand to stop you, lips pursing and his eyes dropping to the hem of your pleated skirt, and the expanse of your bare legs. “We need to have a discussion.”

Your attempt to tug your skirt down was fruitless. Your attempt to rub your thighs together was wasted as another vibration rocked you to your core. You carefully took the steps down to meet them, your hands shaking all the while knowing that of the two Steve was harder to please.

Though you were always their good girl, they liked to act like you were trouble.

“On the desk,” Steve tapped his knuckles against the hard surface, his head tilted to the side, “legs spread.”

Your skirt was flipped up, your back hit the smooth surface and your legs spread to reveal the evidence of their teasing. Your panties were soaked through, the toy still pulsing and buzzing while your hands fell behind you to grip the edge of the desk.

“What a good fucking girl,” Steve was pleased, his eyes were cathartically bright and vibrant with lust, “you listened to everything we had to say.”

“Steve please,” you whined, lifting your hips and arching your back for him, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Over sensitive, darling?” Andy crooned, walking around the back of the desk, his cologne drifting toward you with subtle notes of spice and warmth. “Look at those gorgeous nipples…”

Your shirt was lifted, your back arching against his hands as he cupped your breasts and gave the vibrating nipple clamps a little tug. You felt the scratch of Steve’s beard against your thighs, the gentle pluck of the vibrator from your cunt.

And then the warmth of his tongue hit your clit and you shrieked his name, jerking your hips against his face.

“Oh yes,” Andy grinned, “you’re going to earn a special treat for this, baby.”

“A five fucking star resort for the three of us. A couple of sugar daddies and our sweet little darling.”

#professor!Steve Rogers x reader #professor!Andy Barber x reader #professor!Steve Rogers x reader x professor!Andy Barber #smut #professor/student #professor/student smut #Andy barber smut #Steve rogers smut

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babyjakes · 2 years

Text

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinktober 2022

prompt | professor

pairing | professor!andy barber x college student!reader

warnings | professor/student relationship so obviously some abuse of power/authority, dubcon i guess? andy is clearly manipulating reader but i’m not complaining 😌

word count | 355

an | dedicated to my dear friend @worksby-d! dest you will always be andy’s #1 girl in my heart 🫶 i hope you like this little thot 🥺

okay but what if your hot law professor was andy barber 😳 my man looks so good in a suit, imagine seeing him in one three days a week for class 😌 and maybe you’re struggling a bit, genuinely and you do bad on an exam and he calls you in for “test corrections.” the whole time he’s babying you, treating you like a poor innocent baby who just can’t grasp big girl concepts. wh-what if you start to cry out of frustration and he pulls you over onto his lap 😳 he starts out with just rubbing your bare knee, but then one of those big hands just starts trailing up your thigh…. beneath your skirt….. sliding your panties to the side as he parts your legs a little……….. “shhhh, baby. it’s okay. let me take care of it, hmm? look at that, already wet for me aren’t you honey? poor thing, don’t have a clue what you’re doing… no thoughts in that pretty little head other than getting finger-fucked by your professor…” soon he’s knuckles deep with two fingers while his thumb’s rubbing your clit, his free hand coming up to brush away your tears. “shhh sweetheart, i got you. gonna make it all better, i promise. you just be a good girl for me and hold still, maybe if you’re good and cum for me we can forget all about that failing grade…” you squirt on his nice dress pants 😳 “good girl, such a good girl,” he’s praising you so softly, knowing you need it after being so defeated by your studies, “how about you come on over to my desk, baby. c’mere, come sit up in front of me. wanna take a good look at how messy i made you” he probably eats you out right there on top of all of his papers 😭😭 licking your juices from your dripping hole as he pushes his fingers back into you. “that’s a good girl, you just lie back and take it. think i need to call you in for office hours more often, you still have plenty to learn” 😈😈

#eun’s writing #kinktober 2022 #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #professor!andy barber #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #andy barber drabble #andy barber blurb #andy barber headcanon #andy barber fanfiction

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miryel89 · 7 months

Text

#haddotin #tintin #tintin adventure #myart #digital #snowy #molù #milou #otgw #the adventure of tintin #digitalart #professor calculus #jamie bell #andy serkis #hug

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jamneuromain · 1 year

Text

No Use Running

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: NON-CON/DUB-CON, Dark Content, Smut, Angst and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Clit Stimulation, Pet Names (Angel), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Overstimulation, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, Dark!Andy Barber, sex toys, vibrator, bondage element

Word count: ~4k

Summary: What are you going to do when Andy is mad at you?

A/N: Big shout out to vera @rogerswifesblog and her amazing moodboard, both help me tremendously with the conversation in bold, also help me spiral a thought into a 4k smut. Fair warning, lots of angst, which surprises me, really, because I was mostly thinking of the smut when talking to vera (sorry not sorry XD).

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

A year into your relationship, Andy has only one rule for you.

One rule, and one rule only.

Don’t get drunk when you are partying with your friends. If you are partying, tell him beforehand in case he gets worried about you not coming home.

Just this one rule. Don’t get drunk, call him first.

Simple as that.

In your defense… face it, you have no defense. You screwed up. Big time.

You were so excited about the little getaway your friends planned (and told you about it the minute your last class of the semester ended “we’re partying tonight guuuuuuurl”) that you completely forgot about the rule of “calling Andy”, and happily got yourself more than tipsy.

“More than tipsy”. That’s an understatement. Your very last memory about the night was you doing shots with your friends. You find yourself in the shared home of you and Andy in the next morning, lying comfortably in bed with a minor migraine and fresh PJs, trying to remember what had happened.

Tipsy? You were wasted.

Knowing Andy? If he was home last night, he’d be so mad.

You search for your phone around your pillow, finally locating it on the other side of the bed, linked to the charger.

Your gut sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You’d charge your phone on your side. Your phone is now on Andy’s side.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

This is Godzilla versus King Kong bad.

You can honestly hear every ounce of your luck shatters when you turn on your phone and a dozen missed calls from Andy pop up, dating back to last night and this early morning.

Holy fucking shit.

You are doomed.

Andy has already left because he has a full schedule today.

You frown as your phone gone cold. There was no message asking whether you have woken up. No sticky notes on your forehead as usual if you are sleeping late, telling you that he left a sandwich for you in the fridge. No nothing.

He’s really mad.

You frown more when you find excessive food in the fridge. Some leftover beef stew, chicken kabab, and a whole lemon cheesecake. That’s strange. Andy’s not the type to cook excessively.

And no sandwich.

You make yourself some food to eat and clean the house for a bit.

Your memory pieces some fragments together. You remember stumbling into Andy on the porch. You remember dancing in the club, raising your shot glass, and giggling with your friends.

Your memory is still incoherent and you don’t know what happened exactly.

You vacuum the living room, read for your upcoming assignment, and finally, you decide to cook dinner to show that you are sorry.

Leaping up when you hear his car pull up in the front, rushing to the door to welcome him home: “Hey Andy. How’s your day?”

Andy has a large box under his arm, which you pipe up to help him carry it and put it anywhere he wants.

“Just an average day.” He pecks you on your lips, insisting he carries this on his own. You are nervous as hell when he doesn’t smile, not even after kissing you.

You peek at the box, can’t help but ask as you see the black tape circling the cardboard box: “Amazon? What did you buy?”

“Nothing important.” He shrugs, heading up the stairs with the big box.

Maybe he’s not that mad?

You cross your fingers, hoping that everything works out with luck on your side.

Dinner is as uneventful. However, you can feel that he is distracted and uncharacteristically quiet. Andy used to say what he doesn’t want or what he doesn’t like. He’s vocal about your relationship, but this new Andy is so lukewarm that it is scary to you.

You choose to cuddle on the couch after dinner, playing a Netflix show as background noise on TV.

“I’m sorry about last night, Andy. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.” You loop his arm around your shoulders, looking up at him apologetically, “and I shouldn’t get caught up partying either. I wouldn’t do that ever after.”

Something flickers in his eyes that you cannot catch. In the end, he says nothing, only tightening his grip on your arm, leaning for a kiss.

You rather wish he spanked you or edge you, just like what he did with your previous few wrong-doings. It wasn’t fun but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d rather have him cuddling you after rough sex than to have him ... distant?

You deserve it, to be honest, you know he’d be angry with you.

You only are aware of how angry he is the second you step into the bedroom.

He is fixing the four cuffs tied to the bed, black leather with shiny metal chains. The now-empty Amazon delivery box lies wide open on the floor, giving you the slightest clue of what could have been inside.

Spoiler alert, you didn’t have cuffs in this house. He used to tie you up with his ties.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Andy smiles, for the first time today. He unbuttoned his cuff link and his collar to adjust the length of the metal chains. This normally looks extra hot to you, but knowing what could be waiting for you, you just want to run.

You carefully take a sneaky step back, “umm, Andy, I know you are mad. And I’m so very sorry.” Another step back. “But we can talk this out.” Another step. “Pl-Please don’t be mad?”

Andy rests his hands on his hips, his blue eyes icy cold.

“Sit on the bed, Angel.”

“Andy-” You visibly gulp, tensing all the muscles in your body so that you can dash to the stairs the second he drops down his guard.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ repeat that.” He shoots back at you.

You are going to die on the bed for all you know. You are going to be edged to the brink of your life. A chill runs down your spine, every sense in your body warning you of the menacing danger you are faced with.

“Please, Andy, we can talk this out, I’m begging you.” You plead to him, slowly dragging your feet to the door instead of the bed, “please, Andy.”

Your fight or flight response kicks in the second he prances on you. Of course, you choose to run from him.

You barely make it to the stairs when he grabs your wrist and halts you by your waist, clutching your body so tight like you are a prey struggling for its life. Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat. Your body, although unwillingly, clings to him for dear life, fearing that he slips and drops you on the floor.

“Andy, please! I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again!” You yelp when he throws you onto the bed. You try to sit up when he clasps your ankle with one cuff, you are forced to lie down when he clasps your wrist with another cuff.

“Can’t believe you even tried to run - save it, Angel. You’re in for a long night.” He huffs disapprovingly.

Clasp. Clasp. All your limbs are secured and tied up. He didn’t even bother to take off your nightdress, only pulls your panties to your ankles.

You think it couldn’t be worse.

Oh but it did.

He takes the vibrating wand from the bedside drawer and loosens his belt.

You watch in horror as he fastens his black leather belt around your thighs, squeezing the wand between your legs, where it nestles on your clit.

“Andy-”

“See, Angel, I was planning to hold that wand myself,” he kisses your forehead. The darkness seeps back into his eyes. With a flick of the remote on his phone, the wand buzzes to life. A warm grin on his face, he retreats to the corner of the room, where he sits on a chair and opens his laptop, “too bad I need to work first.”

The vibration is low yet brutal. It triggers your body into moving your hips to avoid it, not that there is much space to move. Without his kisses and skilled fingers working your body, your pleasure builds up high and dry, your skin heats up reluctantly, seeking the attention it deserves.

“Andy-” You choke when your squirming accidentally has the wand brush your clit again, “please, I’m sorry.”

He glances at your frame briefly; his eyes soon return to his laptop. Crispy strokes from the keypad seem to be mocking your fruitless begging.

Your core twists in agony. It doesn’t take much to force an orgasm out of you.

“Pleaaase, Andy, please don’t edge me.” You whisper, moaning when the stimulation to your clit brings a fresh wave of arousal pooling down your pussy. Your channel expects his shaft, but you get nothing. Tide riding higher in your veins, rushing to your core, you are on the verge of cumming any second.

He raises his head from the laptop, a smirk curls his lips when he dials the vibration up a notch.

“Andy-!”

The buzzing grows louder, no longer a soft vibration, but a stronger torture to your clit.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cum.” He buries himself back into his “work”, his calm voice ghosts your ear, “you can cum as many times as you want. You’ve got all night, Angel.”

Your hips buck into the air, pressing your clit tightly on the wand, drawing the first orgasm out of you. Your body bounces on the bed as the orgasm hits you, doing all it can to run from the incessant stimulation on your clit. You wish you could run, but you are chained to the bed,

“Andy, please.” You cry out, tears rolling down from the corner of your eyes, “I-fuck-I said I’m sorry!”

The loud snap when he shuts his laptop makes you shiver.

“The thing is,” Andy sits perfectly still, he watches you writhing on the bed as the second orgasm builds up, "I don’t think you are." His tone barely contains his anger, “bet you totally forget about what yesterday was, huh?”

“Wha-”

“It was supposed to be our one-year relationship anniversary.”

Your brain stops working altogether.

Oh no. It was.

You started dating around this time last year.

You didn’t think you were doing an anniversary this early. If you are counting from the day you became boyfriend and girlfriend, you are two months away from your anniverisary.

“I cooked for candle-lit dinner and bought roses and shit, and what did you repay me with?” He crosses his arm and scoffs, “no texts. No calls. Get fuckin’ drunk with boys.”

Your mind clears its fog, letting you remember you stumbling into Andy while waving goodbye to Mike (or Michael?), who volunteered to uber you home when you were all getting “tipsy”.

“It’s nothing-He just-oh fuck, he just came along to make sure I got home. I’m sorry.” You whimper, your sentence cut off as you feel arousal leak from your pussy, “I’m really sorry about-ah-what you planned. Please, please stop the wand and we can talk.”

His words drip with sarcasm, “and I’m just a poor old fool who thought I could capture a young girl’s heart.” Andy snorts, “that work out well.”

Even as pleasure gradually clouds your brain, you understood what he said and a pang of pain rips your heart to shreds. If you knew about his plan, no, if you remembered, or thought about your anniversary, it wouldn’t end up with both of you in agony.

This is all your fault.

“No, Andy,” you croak, trying to ignore the buzz between your legs, “don’t say that.” It’s not true. I love you.

Andy doesn’t reply to your pleading, his cold expression molded on his face again, “you asked me to be ‘thoroughly fucked’.”

You did, trying to peel him out of his black T-shirt, trying to have him kiss you, saying tons of things that you utterly regret now.

“You wanted it last night, no? Wish granted.” Andy growls, “now take it.”

He turns up the vibration again.

If the previous vibration was barely endurable, this time it is way beyond what you can handle.

You cum with a scream, tugging the chains with your tied-up legs. The rattling of the chains doesn’t stop when you finish cumming. You jolt and kick, as the buzz is incessant on your clit, and you are on your way to your third orgasm.

“Andy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, “it hurts.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Andy picks up a book on the table, glancing at you one last time before he shuts his mouth and starts reading.

Another orgasm hits. And another. You can’t tell what hurts more, your swollen clit or his indifference. You scream and plead, stammering between moans and words, some of them mumble into one. Your skin is coated by a sheen of sweat. Your body reacts to the wand with overruling pleasure above your mind, having you think of nothing but the sensation from your bundle of nerves. And then it starts to hurt. With every second of the wand between your thighs, your mind cannot decide if it wants more or to get away from the stimulation. Another orgasm punches all the air from your lungs. Your cry is silent, mouth agape, tears roll into streams, your body refuses for you to breathe in, running low in oxygen that your vision has spots.

The stimulation between your legs dials down to a full stop.

You draw in a lung full of air. Coughing as you feel your chest is about to explode.

Your body buzzes. Or your clit still feels the buzz ghosting your legs. Your pussy twitches, quivering as it feels cold, soaked with your arousal. Your chest rises and falls, your heart pounding by your ear, your vision blurry with tears.

You want to curl up to your side. Your body is stressing as if it has just run a marathon.

The tugging from your wrists and ankles reminds you, you can’t.

A pillow is stuffed under your head, helping you to breathe a little.

You blink a few times before you make out it’s Andy sitting by the edge of the bed.

He held your head, bringing a cup to your lips.

You swallow on instinct, nearly choking yourself when you are taking big gulps of water.

“…?”

His lips open and close, saying something that doesn’t make sense to you.

Or your ears are ringing so that you can’t hear.

“Wha-?”

“Still talking, I see.” He nods nonchalantly, “do you need more water?”

You shake your head.

He takes the cup, standing up to leave.

“Wa-ait!” You tug the chains desperately, trying to get a hold of him, “Sorr-sorry.” You sniff, “can’t. Can’t cum.” You realize how hoarse your voice is when you open your mouth to speak, like someone rubbed it on sandpaper. You feel sorry. You are sorry. You do. You just can’t do this anymore. Even if you are not screaming, your body is screaming bloody murder.

“Shhh, just a little bit more.” Andy coos, turning up the vibration again.

“No. No-!”

Andy watches as you make a mess on your shared bed over and over again. Your mumbling pleas and begs melt into crying and screaming. Arching your hips as your body reflexes, even though it adds to your misery. Your orgasm hits stronger and slower every time, lasting longer, depriving you of your breathing. You lean your head to the side, panting, struggling. Not out of your will, but when your body instructs you to.

Your thighs flex instinctively when he sits down and caress your buzzing thighs, which are still bound together.

“Don’t think about anything.” He bends down to kiss your belly, coated in sweat. His beard scratching your sensitive skin, having your core tensing once again. “Talk to me, Angel.”

Your brain is clouded. Hearing his voice, you mumble something that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Do you want this to stop?” His voice sounds muffled. Blocked. Like speaking, but with cotton in your ears.

But you understand.

“No-No-hmph.”

Your brain mushed. It hurts. You want more. Keep it going. Till the end of time.

Andy chuckles.

He dials the vibration down to a full stop. You, however, cry out again, one word slurring into another, “More. Want-more.”

He turns a deaf ear to your begging, unclasping his belt to reveal your thighs, having the belt digging into them so hard that leaves a red mark on both of them.

You burst into tears when he pulls the wand out between your legs. Your hips bucking for more pain and pleasure.

The wand is wet. From your arousal and your sweat.

Andy drops the wand to the side, unclasping the restraints on your ankles.

“More…” you whimper like a wounded animal, “more, Andy.”

Andy pries your legs open. Red marks from the wand between your thighs. A puddle of creamy arousal underneath you. Your legs shaking, trembling. Your pussy is red, swollen, covered in slick. Your clit puffy, peeking out from your pussy lips.

“More.” You mewl, as if that’s your whole vocabulary, “more.”

Andy kisses the red marks on your thighs gently, “you like that, huh?”

“Yes. More, Andy.”

Tears stain your cheek but you are about to cry again. Anything to have the wand back. To have something stimulate you to orgasm. Anything to stimulate you, burn your body with pleasure.

This is what he’s been waiting for. To overstimulate you until you are truly overwhelmed with pleasure. You will want more pleasure you can take until you pass out. You will agree to anything for it. Most importantly, you will want him again.

He unclasps your wrists too, prying your legs open more to touch your clit.

“Yesyesyes.” You grind your abused pussy to his hand eagerly, whimpering when he draws his hand back.

“My Angel…” He sighs, stripping himself out of his suit and trousers. His thick shaft straining in his boxers when you moaned and cried. He kneels on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, hovering above you to kiss you, “my beautiful Angel. You’re mine.”

He sheathes himself in entirely at the last word, having you cry out. Having you moan his name. Having you digging your nails into his arm.

Your walls grip him. Sucking him in. Welcoming him with warm wet heat. Your walls crave his cock, craving to be filled to the brim again, craving the stretch and burn as you try to accommodate him.

The pain blends into your pleasure. You can’t tell them apart. His cock brushing your clit on his way out. Your walls convulse. Him slamming back in to rearrange your guts. Your walls clench down. He takes your long-ignored nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging with his lips. You could only sob because of how good it feels.

You want more. You want him. You want his tip kissing your cervix.

“Say it.” He grits his teeth and spits out, “say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” You chant as he knocks the breath out of your lungs, his shaft thrusting deeper, harder.

“That’s right, Angel.” He snaps his hips into you, “you’re fuckin’ mine. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm next to your head.

You stutter his name when you cum, your vision blacks out, everything is slowed down to a halt. You feel a few more thrusts, and his hot spent flood your pussy.

Then you drift to a dreamless sleep.

Your arms hurt. Your legs hurt. Your stomach hurts.

There’s not a fine muscle left on your body.

You curl yourself into a ball, facing the opposite direction of Andy, wincing as you hug your knee.

Your pussy hurts too. Sore and tired from the orgasms ripped out of your body.

Your eyes are dry as if the Sandman blinded you, but you still shed a couple tears onto the pillow. Some of them traveled across your nose bridge and blended into the tears from your other eye.

You can’t believe he overstimulated you. You can’t believe he punished you so hard for disobeying one rule. Most importantly, you can’t believe he had no faith in your relationship. After the class, after the drama with Laurie, after his participation and encouragement in your writing, he means everything to you.

The heartbreak from last night catches up to you, piercing your chest, so painful that you couldn’t breathe.

You open your mouth to ease the pressure of your puffy nose, but the pain just follows your breath like a knife, slashing everywhere it could reach.

You try to cry as subtly and quietly as you can, but your shaking body betrays you, having Andy push himself on his elbow to rub your arm.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” He whispers softly.

He notices you are not responding, leaning closer to check on you: “Shit.”

He grabs the Kleenex box, places it in front of you, and moves to spoon your naked body, kissing your bare shoulder: “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m such an asshole.” Kiss. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far.” Kiss. “Please don’t cry, Angel.”

“I got too angry over the night before and…” he sighs, “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”

“How can you say that?” You turn abruptly, staring at him with watery eyes, tears falling from your cheeks. You can almost hear your spine crack for turning so fast, “how can you say that like you mean nothing to me? Like I’m some gold-digging bitch exploiting you?”

“Angel, I-”

“You mean the world to me, Andy.” I love you. “You are everything I write, you are every reason I come home to, you are every piece of my heart.” I love you. “And I…”

Maybe it’s your insecurities. Maybe it’s the unsuccessful marriage of Andy and Laurie. Maybe it’s your stories that you are certain every hero and heroine would be the perfect match for each other, but you can’t be certain in real life.

You would return Andy’s excessive interpretation in class right back to his face. You would challenge him academically in his office. But you suddenly feel your tongue way too heavy to say the simple word, “love”.

Andy hears your silence.

Andy cups your chin, having you look him in the eye.

Andy, as a writer, knows there are a million ways of interpreting this silence, but choose not to.

He chooses to look at your bed hair, your puffy nose, your teary eyes, carving every detail into his memory.

He wipes the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, Andy.”

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