#well i outed myself in front of professors and the class multiple times bc I didn't pass back then so it was obvious that im queer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

Text

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room.

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job.

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name.

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard.

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen.

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly.

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer.

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt.

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university.

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly.

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,”

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car.

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away.

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

“So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though…

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read.

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me.

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser.

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink.

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him.

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to.

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party. “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But, I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom.

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it.

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway.

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin.

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that.

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips.

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him.

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait.

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face.

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core.

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue.

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes.

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face.

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit.

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand.

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time.

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me.

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair.

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth.

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say.

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand.

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat.

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react.

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger.

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more...

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded.

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party.

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish.

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots.

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched.

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen.

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near.

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling.

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this.

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face.

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears.

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head.

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met.

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did.

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on.

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him.

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now.

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat.

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it.

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me.

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

“Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question.

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that.

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him.

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added.

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine.

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

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daddymenrah · 8 years ago

Text

Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448

“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

Professor Negan’s head turns in your direction, a somewhat predatory grin spreading across his handsome features.

“Y/N. Let ‘em have it.” You try not to smile too hard at his confidence that you’ll give a good answer, but it proves to be rather difficult when he’s urging you on with one of his own infectious smiles.

“I think a lot of issues arise with these precepts, mainly that there are too many grey areas and not everyone agrees with the idea that these should be prioritised by society as a whole.” A small smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “Not to mention everyone has different ideas as to what these precepts involve.”

“Such as?”

“The definition of orderly living in society differs massively from person to person. For example, someone might consider a party going on past twelve as relatively orderly, but their neighbours might disagree.” Professor Negan along with the rest of the lecture hall chuckle at your scenario.

After spurring the sharing of ideas and opinions, the rest of your classmates were more agreeable to putting their own out there. The opinions differed massively, and Negan appeared to be having fun listening to everyone debate heatedly. The class was so animated, that it almost drew into lunch break.

“Alright fuckers, I think you’ve assaulted my ears enough today. Go do whatever it is the youth of today does on their break.” He shooed all of you out of the room, but just as you were leaving he caught your arm. “Hold up a sec, Y/N.”

Most people who come into some form of contact with you on a daily basis know not to touch you without being on a certain level of closeness with you, but professor Negan is an exception to this rule. You really couldn’t care less that you don’t know all that much about him other than his name, penchant for cursing, and views on the subjects he taught, his touch sets your entire being on fire.

Once the class is empty, he backs up against the front of his desk, resting his backside on the edge and his hands either side of him for support.

“I marked last weeks essays…” He begins.

“You realise you set those two weeks ago.” You correct him. His eyes widen slightly, and then he sighs.

“Shit, whatever. Anyway, I marked those. What I wanted to tell ya was that yours was ridiculous.” Your heart drops in embarrassment, and it must have shown on your expression. Professor Negan chuckles. “Don’t cry kid, I meant ridiculous as in ridiculously fuckin’ good. You thinkin’ of doing a masters by any chance?”

You sigh in relief.

“I haven’t given my masters much thought.” You admit. He nods in acknowledgment.

“Well, when you get round to it, I’d consider this. That’s if ya haven’t got another master in mind.” He winks, your jaw almost falls right open at what he’d just insinuated. Surely he couldn’t have meant that?

He slips his glasses off and wipes the lenses with the hem of his t-shirt, then nudges them back onto his gorgeous face. You can never decide whether you like him better with or without specs. Not that it matters, since you’d screw him either way.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” He teases, eyebrow cocked.

“Other than your glasses?” You say, praising yourself internally for coming up with a witty response. He chuckles deeply and waggles his insanely long index finger at you.

“You better watch I don’t give ya a detention for sassin’ me.”

‘Yeah cuz, that’d be a real punishment.’ You think, biting back a smirk.

“Woah, what?” Professor Negan’s expression is shocked, but his lips are quirking at the edges as if trying to hold in a smile.

“Hm?” You reply.

“Did you just flirt with me, Y/L/N?” And then you realise, with dismay, that your thought had subconsciously vocalised. Your cheeks warm but you roll your eyes playfully in an attempt to hide your embarrassment with nonchalance.

“Interpret it how you want.” You shrug, then adjust your bag on your shoulder and make a move to leave the hall.

“Well shit, I ain’t complainin’.” You hear him mutter, and you turn right back around. Professor Negan has his arms folded and a mischievous smirk sitting shamelessly his features.

“Don’t look so fuckin’ shocked. You’re an attractive girl.” He laughs.

“And also one of your students?” You retort, still in disbelief that he was being so blatantly inappropriate with you. However, it wasn’t an unpleasant disbelief.

“You’re of legal age. You can do what you want.” You like how he phrased that.

“I’m pretty sure there are still rules regardless of age.” You reply, Negan simply shrugs.

“I once knew this smart chick who said, ah what was it… Interpret it how you want?” At this point your stomach is doing multiple flips and there’s a giant smile threatening to break out on your face.

You’ve fantasised about how this might come to happen, but it’s so different now that it really is. There’s thinking about it while in bed at night, touching yourself to the thought of Negan’s voice saying your name, and then there’s standing right in front of the real thing as he propositions you.

He pushes off the desk and takes a few steps towards you.

“You’re a big girl, you know what it is you want.” He murmurs, lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so that you’re forced to look him in the eye. “And you know how to get it.” His lips are tantalisingly close to yours, but he doesn’t move any further. “I have an evening class that finishes at six. Do with that information what you wish.”

You left Negan’s classroom feeling choked up with a mixture of shock and excitement. You wanted to tell someone, anyone, especially your best friend who you knew was on her lunch break too. But you restrained yourself. You trusted her of course, but you didn’t want to tell her only for nothing to come of it. You had to make a decision first.

It was your last lecture of the day so you left the building and made your way to your car. Setting your things down on the passenger seat, you started the ignition and began the drive back to your apartment you shared with the aforementioned friend. You tried to distract yourself from the decision you had to make by listening to some of your favourite songs.

Much to your dismay, virtually every song had some kind of reference to a significant other or a love interest, and you found your mind flashing back to Negan each time. You knew the excited sickness in your stomach wasn’t going to go away unless you declined professor Negan’s proposition, or you went and found out what was in store.

Honestly, you desperately wanted to agree. There was a very clichéd, romance, drama movie type feel to your situation. You felt as though you were the troubled heroine of the film, walking the fence between right and wrong, following the rules and following your desires. You shook your head at your own melodramatic musings and focussed on finding a parking space.

Once you’d parked up, you grabbed your stuff and hurried through the apartment building lobby, and into the lift. You tapped your foot impatiently as it took you to your floor. You were restless, there was a sense of time running out. Whether you went or not, you still had to make a decision, the sooner the better.

As you rushed out of the elevator at your floor and powerwalked to the door of your apartment, you continued to ponder this. A quick glance at your phone in your hand told you it was already one o’clock. You had about three hours to make a decision that would allow you to get ready and arrive at six. You nearly smacked yourself in the forehead, the way you were thinking was already in agreement to the idea of actually going.

You dropped your bag down by the door and shoved your sneakers off. You went to make yourself a drink before settling down on the couch and thinking the whole predicament through properly.

What exactly would meeting with professor Negan alone entail? ‘Oh come on’ You think to yourself. You know damned well what it’ll entail. Well, to an extent. The man exuded sexual confidence. The way he’d swagger back and forth while explaining something, or when he’d stagger crotch-first when something made him laugh.

Maybe you were just dirty-minded and presumptuous, but the reality was it was highly likely that if you went, you were going to have some kind of sexual encounter with your philosophy and ethics professor.

And that excited you to no end.

It’s half past five and you’re taking a last glance at yourself in the mirror before leaving. You’ve sex-proofed your makeup, should what you think is going to happen, happens. Smoothing down your outfit, that consists of tight black jeans and a flattering blouse with just enough cleavage showing, you leave the apartment.

The sensation that’s gripped your entire being is one of trepidation. Akin to the feeling of sneaking out for the first time, or smoking weed unbeknownst to your parents. You know you shouldn’t be doing it, and you damned well you could get in trouble for it, but you also know that it could be one of the most unforgettable experiences of your life.

And that is what powers your legs to walk out your building and to your car, key in ignition, engine on. When you spot your college in the distance, you play that one song that makes you feel irresistible, strong, sexy. By the time you’ve found a parking spot near to the building, you feel less nervous, and more ready. The anticipation alone is turning you on.

Professor Negan is inside finishing up a class, probably thinking about whether or not you’re going to show. You wonder which he thinks is more likely. Despite being what you like to think is subtly flirtatious in class, you doubt he thinks you really have the guts to come here after hours and potentially fuck your teacher. Do many people have that kind of rebellious streak?

You’re walking through the doors and nodding to the receptionist, and your mind flicks back to the lesson this morning. Negan’s words replay in your mind. ‘Orderly living in society.’ This sure as fuck wasn’t considered orderly living in society. Aquinas was an idiot in your opinion if he really thought this was the way humans should live to get the most out of life.

But as you spot Negan’s class filing out of the room, that lurching feeling in your stomach returns. You feel almost short of breath, but you surge on, weaving through the yawning students, complaining about evening classes and how they just want to get home. It’s ironic in a way, they’re all desperate to leave while you’ve been on edge virtually all day about coming back.

You dither by the door momentarily, listening to see if there are any students left in there. You can’t hear anything, so you walk in. Negan is sitting at his desk chatting to another teacher. Your throat closes up, but you act as normal as you possibly can. You can’t let it seem like you shouldn’t be here.

“Hi professor, I’m here to grab that essay you revised for me?” You say as confidently as you can.

Negan’s head turns to look at you, that grin, slow as molasses, spreads across his lined face. He looks you up and down before giving you a more PG smile.

“Rick, this is one of my best philosophy students. Y/N L/N.” He states, indicating to you with an open-handed gesture. The teacher smiles and nods to you.

“Hello, Y/N. I’m Professor Grimes from the law department.” He has a slow, southern drawl that could put you to sleep if you listened to it for too long.

He isn’t too bad looking himself, about the same age as Negan, but clean shaven with sharp blue eyes. He has a no-nonsense look about him.

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back politely. He turns back to Negan.

“Well, I’ll let ya’ll get on with whatever it is you big thinkers get up to.” He jokes.

“Oh we have plenty of fun.” Negan assures him.

You’re almost shocked by his brazenness, but it’s professor Negan. Once professor Grimes has left the classroom, Negan stands and follows the man’s path. He pulls the blind down over the small window in the door. At this point, it’s beginning to feel very, very real. Once he’s facing you again, he groans, letting his eyes wander slowly from your face right down to your jeans that are clinging to every curve of your legs.

“The hell are you tryna do to me?” He mutters, prowling towards you like a lion to its prey. Standing only several inches away from you, he inhales sharply. “Can I touch you?” You nod a little too eagerly, and he chuckles darkly. “Oh sweetheart, I can tell you’ve been achin’ at the thought of this all day.” Your cheeks warm substantially, and his large hands go to rest on your hips. He squeezes them just a little, a sound coming from his throat that sounds almost like a purr.

“I’ve been wantin’ to touch you for so long. You’re a fuckin’ tease, Y/N.”

“I am not.” You reply indignantly. Negan laughs loudly.

“Alright then, you’re a fuckin’ liar too. Leanin’ over the desk just so in your low cut shirts, suckin’ on the tip of your pen, droppin’ your papers right in front of me and bending down to pick ‘em up. I got the hint, sweetie.”

You decide to play coy for a little longer.

“The hint of what?” He pulls you flush against him and leans down so his lips are beside your ear.

“The hint that you want me to bend you right over this desk and fuck you so hard that you’ll never forget ol’ professor Negan.” Your jaw goes slack. “You’re the only one of my students that calls me professor. I think you know that it gets my dick real hard.”

His potty mouth has always made you warm between the legs, but now you can quite literally feel yourself soaking through your underwear. Normally you’re relatively confident in sexual encounters, but you’re utterly speechless at this moment in time.

“But you know, there’s something else I’ve always wanted to hear you call me.” Negan adds, feigning pensiveness.

“What’s that?” You manage to ask.

“I really fuckin’ like the thought of havin’ you over my knee, callin’ me daddy while I spank that round ass of yours.” As soon as he says that, it’s all over for you. You moan involuntarily.

“Please professor Negan, spank me.” You beg, not even sure if it’s you saying these words to your teacher.

“You better pull those tight pants down and get on my lap, baby. I think it’s about time I punished you for all this fuckin’ teasin’ you’ve made me endure.” Negan plants a quick, but hard, kiss to your lips, then goes to pull his chair out from under his desk and sits on it. You go to undo your jeans, but he stops you. “Uh uh.” He shakes his head. “Put on a fuckin’ show for daddy.”

You turn away from him, slowly wiggling out of your jeans. Once the waistband goes below your ass, you bend right over to step out of the pant legs. The feel of Negan’s eyes on your backside has your entire body burning.

“Get over here.” He demands. You do just as he says, walking slowly towards him. “You just fuckin’ love to tease daddy don’t you? I’ll teach you a god damn lesson you’ll never forget.”

Negan settles you over the thighs of his long, muscular legs. He tugs on your panties, you’re wearing your sexiest black pair.

“Mm, is this the kind of shit you’re wearing underneath those clothes in my class?” He hit then nail right on the head. You nod, lip drawn between your teeth in anticipation. “You bad, bad, fucking girl.”

And without warning, he brings his palm down hard on your bare ass cheeks.

“I want you to count, baby.” He whispers.

“One.” You say, still relatively composed. He repeats the action, ever so slightly harder. “Two.” It hurts in a delicious way, but you crave something more, something harder. Before he goes to smack you again, you speak up.

“Professor Negan?” You glance up at him.

“You better have a damned good reason for interruptin’ me while I’m spanking that sweet ass of yours.” He replies, eyebrow cocked in a playful glare.

“Do you… Do you think you could use your belt?” Negan simply stares at you in disbelief. You can feel yourself turning red from embarrassment, this is not how you wanted it to go down.

“Would you look at my dirty girl, askin’ to be spanked with my belt.” He sighs dreamily. Relief floods your body. He unbuckles his belt and slides it carefully from his trousers, not wanting to make you slide off his lap. He then proceeds to loop it around his hands, you’re breathing heavily with excitement.

The first time the leather snaps against your skin, the sensation is new, and stings like a bitch, but in the best way possible.

“Please professor, more.” You moan, surprising yourself with how needy you sound.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a punishment but because you look so fuckin’ good right now I’ll let you off easy.” Negan chuckles.

He does it again, and again, and again. Harder and harder each time. You bite down hard on the base of your thumb to stop yourself from crying out too loud. Just as you’re mentally preparing yourself for the next blow, a knock on the door gets both of your attention.

“Get under the fuckin’ desk!” Negan hisses, helping you under.

You try to keep absolutely silent.

“Come on in.” You hear Negan call out. His legs are stretched out either side of you under the desk. Your eyes travel up them, until you spot an unmistakable bulge at the zipper of his pants. You hear footsteps approaching the other side of the desk and a voice you recognise from earlier. It’s professor Grimes if you’re not mistaken.

Negan pushes himself further under the desk as he converses with Grimes. You can hear them discussing some kind of issue with covering shifts during exam season. You’re pretty crushed under the table, if you were to stretch the upper half of your body into his lap, you’d feel a little less squashed…

You shift as carefully as possible, moving forward onto your knees. You feel Negan twitch slightly at the feeling of you moving. You gently undo the button of his jeans, and unzip his pants as quietly as possible. Negan coughs to cover the sound of the metal teeth coming apart.

“Is that your belt?” You hear professor Grimes say.

“Oh, yeah. Gotta get comfy for a long evening of marking, am I right?” Negan laughs. You wouldn’t be able to sense there was anything wrong from the tone of his voice. At least not until you pull his dick out of his pants and slip the huge appendage into your mouth.

Negan makes a strange noise and starts choking violently.

“You okay, Negan?” You hear professor Grimes.

“Yeah, just fuckin’ peachy.” He replies, sounding somewhat strained. You would smirk if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with Negan’s cock. You begin sucking, swirling your tongue around his thick tip.

You hear professor Grimes continue you to talk as you take Negan’s dick further into the back of your throat, when all of a sudden Negan interrupts.

“Hey man, as much as I’m enjoyin’ this fuckin’ riveting conversation, I got a lot of shit to do.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be on my way.” Professor Grimes sounds irritated, but you can make out the noises of his footsteps leading away from his desk.

“Have a good evening, Rick!” Negan yells after him, then pulls you from out under the desk, his dick popping out of your mouth in the process. “You,” He breathes, “are gonna get me in a whole lot of fuckin’ trouble.” He yanks you up hard and bends you over the desk. He rips your panties down and shoves his jeans to the floor. “I’m gonna fuck you so fuckin’ hard you’ll never be able to look at this fuckin’ desk again without creamin’ your fuckin’ undies.”

“Oh god, please do.” You gasp, feeling his tip tease your soaking wet pussy.

“God? Close, but sweetheart, daddy works just fine.” And with that he pushes violently inside you. He thrusts in and out of you at an unforgiving speed, groaning profanities as he goes. All you can bring yourself to do is hold on tight to the edge of the desk and moan his name.

“You’re gonna be thinkin’ about this when you limp into class tomorrow, I can fuckin’ assure you.” He threatens. “I’m gonna tear your dripping cunt to shreds.”

“Yes please, daddy.” You cry, tears of sheer pleasure pooling in your eyes.

“And you better not try and skip because your pretty, little pussy is achin’. I’ll be givin’ you detention all week.”

“I won’t daddy, I promise.”

“I wanna see that ass sittin’ up straight at her desk, ready to take in knowledge, then take in this dick once everyone’s gone.” “I will, daddy, I will.” You whine. His thrusts are becoming quicker, more erratic.

“Shit, this young pussy is gonna make me cum.”

“Wait, you’re not wearing-“

“I wanna see that cunt dripping with my cum.” Negan pulls you up, off the desk and then shoves you against the whiteboard, re-entering you with no difficulty whatsoever thanks to how wet you are.

He keeps your wrists behind your back with one of his hands and the other tight around your throat.

“Are you gonna cum all over this dick for daddy?” He growls in your ear.

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” You’re practically screaming in ecstasy.

“Cum. Cum for me right fucking now.”

And though you never thought it possible, his words bring you right over the edge into writhing, sweating, heaven. He follows very soon after, his cock pulsing inside you, painting your walls with his thick, white cum.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” He pants, sliding out of you. You’re frozen against the whiteboard, the very whiteboard you’ve copied notes from many times.

You vaguely hear Negan rifling in his desk for something, then you spot him underneath you.

“Mm look at that.” He purrs. You realise with horror that he’s watching his own ejaculation drip out you, holding tissue directly beneath, ready to catch it. “That is a fuckin’ sight to see.”

There’s not really much you can do other than wait till the majority of Negan’s cum has left your body, then pull your stretched panties up and find your jeans.

“Shit darlin’, that might just have been the best fuck I ever had.” Negan grins at you, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

You smile awkwardly.

“I’m inclined to agree with you there.”

“Hey what happened to ‘daddy’ and ‘professor Negan’?” He teases you. He narrows his eyes at you in jest. “Ah, I see how it is. Once you get off, all that nasty shit goes away.” You’re bright red for what feels like the millionth time today. “Hey, that’s totally fuckin’ cool with me. A sweetheart in class, but a dirty whore when it comes to the ass.��

“Please stop.” You groan. Negan laughs softly, all signs of playfulness gone from his face. He looks weirdly calm.

“You need a ride home or anything, princess?”

“I’m good, I drove.” You smile back.

“You know I was jokin’ about you not being allowed to skip right? If you’re hurtin’ I want you to stay your ass at home.”

And just when you thought you’d been sexually sated for life, Negan’s caring side made you want to hop on his dick all over again.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, alright, strong woman. You get home and go to sleep.”

“It’s after class, don’t tell me what to do.” You joke, walking towards the door.

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you want me to show you who’s boss again.” He calls after you.

“Interpret it how you want.” You wave, smirking to yourself and closing the classroom door behind you.

PART 2

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