#૮( ꩜ ㅅ ꩜)ა bnuuy loves scott barringer

[erosmutt]

/ thinkin' bout﹒☆

﹒brothers! scott & sam + teacher reader﹒⌅

𖦹 age gap (sam and scott are 18, reader is in her 30s), mida rana!reader, sub scott and sam

"you two have repeatedly gotten yourselves into trouble. acting out, being caught with drugs and alcohol, skipping class. what do you two have to say for yourselves, hm?"

the two students - Sam and his brother Scott - stand before you in your classroom. you had called them after school, at precisely 5 o'clock, knowing no one would be around. "i should send you to the Dean tomorrow, shouldn't i?"

the two immediately perk up, but Scott was more in a panic than his brother. "no! no, Miss, please! if he finds out, i could get kicked off the football team!" he pleads, tugging at the hem of his sweater anxiously. you look over at Sam and raise an eyebrow. he just looks away, shoving his hands into his pockets, making the chains on his shorts jingle. he gives you a shrug. "whatever, i don't care. tell him."

this sends his brother into a worse panic. so, you intervene.

"how about this, boys," you begin, getting up out of your chair. your heels click against the floor, making Scott step back. "i'll let you two off the hook, if, you come to tutoring sessions after school." that earns you a groan from Sam and a whine from Scott. "no." they say at the same time.

"oh, but yes! or would you rather i tell the dean about your little escapades during passing periods?"

Scott, desperate to save his ass, nods his head frantically. "yes! yes, fine! we could start now if you want! just please don't tell!" you smile and reach up, gently pinching his rosy cheek between your thumb and forefinger. "good boy! you're setting an example for your brother, aren't you?" he nods, looking down at you. "mhm, example."

Sam rolls his eyes and looks at you and his brother. "you're such a fucking pushover." he tells Scott, drawing a scoff from him. "no i'm not!" you just smile, gently stroking Scott's bicep, tracing the contours of his muscle with your fingertips. "well Sam?"

he sighs heavily, then rubs his hand over his face. "fuck it, fine."

The next day, you and Scott were sitting across from each other in the classroom. you thought it'd be nice to arrange the desk a different way and sit at one with him to make it more comfortable, and to not make him feel as if he was getting talked at, but mentored 1-on-1. also to lull him into a false sense of security.

"i think Sam flaked, Miss." he murmurs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. you lift your leg, resting your foot on the chair between Scott's legs, teasing his crotch with the toe of your black pump. he shifts in his seat, and just as he opens his mouth to speak, the classroom door swings open. it slams against the wall then closes as Sam walks in. he slides into the desk next to you.

"sorry," he murmurs. you give him a smile. "no worries Sam, your brother and i were just chatting." he shrugs and pulls his notebook out of his bag, slapping it onto the desk. meanwhile, Scott was biting his lip as you rubbed your foot over his now half-hard cock.

Sam opens his notebook to a clean page, clicking open his pen. he titles his paper, completely oblivious to what was happening to his brother underneath the desks.

[erosmutt]

ⵌ ꜰᴀᴡɴ ⨾ SCOTT BARRINGER

𖦹 age gap (scott is 18, reader is in her 30s), brat!sub!scott, dom!teacher!reader, classroom sex, reader is referred to as 'Miss', 1.3K words

“God, why do you always have to make this so hard for me?!” Scott whines, pacing in front of your desk. You sit at your desk, hands folded with your chin resting on them, your eyes following him as he goes back and forth.

He was always a brat. Always, without fail. His father requested you to give him some tutoring after school so he could keep his grades up and, in turn, stay on the football team.

“You’re so stupid! Do you even know what you’re doing?! Why can’t I get another teacher? Why can’t Mr. Scarbrow tutor me?! At least he acts like he cares!” he continued, making you roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to massage your temples. He was such an insufferable student. He was never not complaining about something. Without fail, Scott found something to complain about. The temp of the room, the other students being annoying, something.

“Scott,” you begin, and your tone makes Scott stop to look up at you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Yeah?” you give him a warm, maternal smile, and the poor boy’s entire body racked with a shudder. “How about we move onto another problem, hm? Here,” you stand and walk to the board. He swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes stay fixed on your ass in the ungodly tight pencil skirt you decided to wear as you move around, the sound of your heels clicking against the linoleum fading into the background of Scott’s little world. You pick up the marker and begin writing.

“So we have your preimage, and your image. Now, when you move it, you’re translating, like so…” and now your voice fades into the background. All Scott could focus on was your wide hips and thick legs, your white blouse letting him faintly see the band of your sapphire blue bra. He slides into the desk at the very front of the class, shifting around and bouncing his legs to distract him from the growing tent in his sweatpants.

With his hands gripping the front edge of the desk, he licks his lips once more and swallows, his tummy coiling. Maybe, just maybe, he could get away with it…

So he tries. As your back is turned, Scott trails his hand down, shoving it into his sweatpants. He rubs his shaft over his boxers, fingers fiddling with the opening. Once his hand makes contact with his shaft, he whimpers. “Oh…”

You turn to look at him. “Scott?” He freezes, and slowly looks up at you, his baby blues wide with shock. You set the marker down and walk up to him, a warm smile on your face. “And what do we have here, hm~?”

Scott was absolutely fucked. How would he explain this? ‘Sorry Miss, I got horny and was jacking off to your ass’?

“Uh, I uh, uh,” “Shh,” you respond, reaching down to gently caress his cheek. “Shhh, it’s alright Scotty.” You give him another warm smile, making him whimper. You reminded him so much of his stepmother, but better. He didn’t feel gross, he felt fulfilled.

“Can you stand up for me Scott?” He nods, removing his hand and standing up. You led him to your desk, then took a seat atop it, leaving Scott there, standing before you like a lost child. “Um, Miss?” He murmurs to you, all his brattiness gone. “Miss,” “ah-ah, this entire time you’ve been acting out, Scotty. You have to listen to me now, alright?”

He nods. “‘M listening.” He watches as you reach forward and brush your fingers through his curls. “Good boy, come here, come closer.” You coax him forward as if he was an animal you were attempting to befriend. He leans into your touch, stepping closer until he’s flush against you, standing between your legs. His hands come to rest on your thighs, kneading the flesh, making his cock twitch.

All of you - your whole body made Scott writhe with need. The stretch marks on your inner thighs, the pudge of your stomach, your plush breasts making a few buttons of your blouse look like they were holding on by a thread, literally. You lean back on your hands, allowing Scott’s hands to roam your body. “Miss, can I?”

You give him that same warm smile. “Of course.” Wasting no time, Scott pushes the front of your skirt up, and his knees nearly buckle at the sight of your lace panties that were the same sapphire color your bra was. Like the teenage boy he was, he quickly shoved his bottoms down in one go, tugged your panties to the side, and guided his cock into your hole (after missing a couple times).

As soon as his tip is engulfed by your gummy walls, he whines and plants his hands flat onto the desk. “Ohh god,” He whimpers out, hips stuttering. Poor thing couldn’t even handle it! You reach up and stroke his rosy cheek with the pad of your thumb. “Shh, good boy Scott.” He leans down and rests his forehead on your shoulder, his abs flexing as he tries to not look like too much of a little bitch.

You reach down and gently wrap your free hand around his shaft, guiding him into your pussy, your legs wrapped around his waist to aid in moving him towards you. “There you go sweetie, there you go.” Once Scott was finally bottomed out inside you, he bucks his hips subconsciously, needing some sort of stimulation. “Hnn,”

Letting out a soft laugh, you reach up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Keep going Scotty, you can do it,” you murmur into his ear. Your voice was so gentle and maternal, he couldn’t take it. He reaches up and fumbles with your buttons, tugging at the thin fabric of your blouse. You let him figure it out, watching as he tugs it apart, finally getting access. He lifts his head and when he sees the plush fat of your chest, he lets out a sob.

Scott was so incredibly overstimulated - his cock buried inside you, the sight of your matured body, raging hormones. He tugs at the cups of your bra eagerly, pulling them down. “Scotty,” you coo, your hand now resting on the back of his neck. “You can move for me, yeah? You can move for Miss?”

Hearing you refer to yourself in third person made Scott let out a half-groan half-whine. He nods eagerly. “C’mon, use your words, love.” He swallows and tries to catch his breath. “Nnh, yeah, uh-huh, gonna…”

You give him a fake pout. “Poor baby,” Scott nods. He wasn’t even really coherent anymore, he was just trying to keep from falling to his knees. Finally finding the strength, he begins to buck his hips forward, rutting instead of thrusting properly. He babbles incoherently, his brows furrowed and voice strained. He leans down and buries his face in your tits, his hands squeezing at them as well. “‘na, gonna, ha, ssss, oh,” Scott slurs.

He cries out, hands finding your biceps for support as he spills his load inside you without warning. You just run your hand through his hair, raking your nails along his scalp. “Good boy, Scotty.” He murmurs something incoherent in response. “Did so well sweetie.” He murmurs a repetition of your praise, drawing a soft giggle from you, and earning him a kiss on his warm forehead.

It was rare that Scott was able to earn praise from anyone. His father, his stepmother, not even his coach would make him feel this special. You knew full well you had no business doing this, but seeing him so pathetic and brought down off his imaginary high horse filled you with satisfaction. Knowing he had no one else to cry to (besides Mr. Scarbrow, but you would make sure Scott kept his mouth closed!) except you made you shiver with a perverted sense of power. In due time, Scott would act up again - you would just have to put him back in his place.

[erosmutt]

/ thinkin' bout﹒☆

﹒virgin!scott﹒⌅

okay, say the Cliffhangers are on a hike. you, being hot (as it's nearly 90°), are in a camisole. now - Scott can't help it when his cock begins to stir in his jeans when he sees your pudgy cleavage bouncing about as you walk the trail.

and he will absolutely eat it up. having no real privacy at Horizon, Scott finds himself hanging back in the kitchen after finishing up dish duty, fisting his cock with vigor, his other hand resting on the metal counter in front of him, the thought of burying his cock in your cleavage etched in his mind.

he's also hoping and praying he can cum before staff comes and does their rounds!