Leather for the rosebuds
Pairings: AU professors -Ethan Hawke x F!Reader
Words: 3649
Warnings: Corporal punishment, humilliations, abuse of authority, spanking, fingering, spit fetish, urination (NO kink), light choking.
It was not uncommon for students to get distracted and play even when teachers were present, yet the consequences of crossing the line between harmless behavior and disobedience could be dire. And that was what you were about to discover after the class you loathed the most.
You hadn't had a good week, and it seemed like school was only adding fuel to the fire, your bad mood was about to flare up and anything, no matter how small, would push you over the edge. Geometry class had never been fun, but it was more or less bearable thanks to who was teaching it.
At first, all anyone could say was that Professor Hawke looked as good as any teacher of insufferable classes, although most girls and some boys also added that at least the professor had some appeal, perhaps because of his icy blue eyes that didn't hesitate to linger on the students', as if challenging them, perhaps because in the middle of spring semester they had seen him roll up his shirt sleeves and could tell that, under the dull clothing, there was possibly a well-shaped body. Eventually, it turned out that the classes were bearable, sometimes even pleasant, because the professor put a lot of enthusiasm into what he did and did not hesitate to help whoever needed it in a good mood.
However, it was precisely during Geometry that your attitude worsened. You kept throwing biting words at your classmates, even raising your voice a couple of times at one of them, Richard, the class clown.
"Would you shut the fuck up already?" you blurted out, glaring angrily at him. In truth Richard wasn't doing anything particularly annoying, but your mood wasn't to tolerate even a slight chuckle, and it happened that the boy sat behind you.
"Hey, take it easy" Richard replied, surprised "It's no big deal."
"You can't go a damn day without making an ass of yourself, can you?"
"What's going on there?" professor Hawke paused while writing a formula and looked down your row. Just what you were missing, you thought, a scolding in front of your stupid classmates "Mr. Wayne..."
"I didn't do anything to her, I swear!" defended Richard "I just had a little laugh."
"Miss (Y/LN)?" his eyes fell on you, splendid and overpowering. You felt uncomfortable, though you didn't know exactly why "Do you consider that vocabulary appropriate for a classroom?"
You noticed from afar another girl, Amanda, giggling under her breath.
"Oh for God's sake, you shut up too," you blurted out to her.
"Are you talking to me?" inquired Amanda.
"Don't make that pouty face" you grumbled.
"Miss (Y/LN), that's enough" the teacher warned you "Step to the blackboard and finish the formula."
You knew he was punishing you, and you knew it would amuse the crowd, so when you passed by him and he offered you the chalk, you took it with a jerk and a lowered gaze. You were very close to him, a privilege almost no one got, but you were still angry, and at that moment you also hated the teacher for putting you in that situation.
You started to write but, after a couple of lines, you felt confused. You looked at the blackboard more and more nervously because you were aware that everyone was looking at you, but you couldn't finish the formula. You felt a burning in your face and tears threatening to come out, and you heard a faint chuckle behind you.
"Everything all right?" asked Professor Hawke, planting himself next to you. The hand with which you held the chalk trembled.
"You don't look so rough anymore, (Y/N)" Amanda muttered, but thanks to the general silence you could hear her. Before the teacher could say anything to her, you turned around and, without thinking, advanced towards her desk.
"Do you have a problem?" you blurted out "Come on, tell me!"
"Miss (Y/LN)!" the teacher tried to get your attention, but you were looking at Amanda angrily. She wasn't one of your favorites, you considered her too conceited and hypocritical.
"Speak up, I'm listening to you!"
"Get away from me, you lunatic!" she blurted out.
"Enough!" ordered the teacher "Miss Jenkins, your comments were out of line, Miss (Y/LN), return to your place."
You were dying to hit Amanda or whomever, you couldn't stand to see that prude face fleeing at your flaming gaze, your head hurt more and you could almost hear your heart.
"Miss (Y/LN), for the last time, return to your seat."
You weren't going to stand for it, you backed up and started walking towards the exit door, ignoring the directions. But before you reached it, a body stepped in the way, and you saw Professor Hawke standing in front of the door, he was tall enough that you had to look up into his face, and you noticed that he was getting angry too.
You crossed the line, and upon discovering him your own anger erupted.
"Let me out, please."
"I told you to go back to your place, you disobeyed a direct order."
"This isn't a fucking barracks-"
"And you insist on talking like that" he added, his voice had become deeper and lower, dangerous "You will return to your seat and stay there until after school"
You clenched your fists, the blue eyes finished consuming your inner fire and you returned, crestfallen but not defeated, to your desk. The class continued, no one dared to comment on anything, even Richard looked stony because it was the first time they actually saw the Geometry teacher get upset.
With about ten minutes left in the class, you raised your hand. Professor Hawke had his back to you, finishing writing down another formula, but you waited patiently for several seconds, trying not to look around. Finally, the man turned around.
"When we encounter solid three-dimensional figures, we must consider in our calculations the overall volume" he explained, calm as if he didn't notice you were trying to tell him something. You waved your hand like a toddler and almost wanted to jump up and down in your seat in desperation until he finally deigned to look at you "Yes?"
"Can I go to the bathroom?"
"I thought my indication earlier had been clear" he replied, raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, was he joking?
"But-"
"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/LN), your privilege is revoked until further notice" and after those words, he turned his gaze back to the blackboard to continue with the class.
The next few minutes you were struggling with the increasingly intense urge to urinate, squeezing your thighs together, taking slow, deep breaths or trying to find a different sitting position. When the bell rang, Professor Hawke turned to the group, his smile conciliatory.
"For the next class, I'll need you to bring graph paper and the scale ruler, have a nice day."
You were already about to bolt as soon as you finished collecting your books, when the man added in a loud voice:
"Miss (Y/LN), stay a moment, please."
Despite your desperation, you didn't want to get into any more trouble and stood in front of your desk while the rest came out. Professor Hawke advanced to the door and closed it, pulling the small blind that covered the opaque glass of the door. Just as quietly, he returned to the desk and motioned to you.
"Have a seat here, in front."
You moved forward with the feeling that one false move would make a mess of your clothes.
"Mr. Hawke..." you murmured, but he interrupted you.
"You didn't really think you were going to leave without a punishment, did you?" undeterred, he opened one of his books and began to flip through "We're going to do a little general volume review of curved figures."
"Sorry, I really need to go to the bathroom."
The man interlaced his fingers over the book, staring at you. His face was hieratic, but his voice again took on that dangerous timbre.
"You don't seem to be understanding. You are going to sit at that desk right in front of me and go over the volume formulas for curved lines, and you are not to speak or move from that spot until I allow you to."
You had always had the professor pegged as strict but understanding. However, he really seemed to mean what he said.
"Please..." you almost begged "I won't run away, I promise, I just want-"
The man stood up so fast you were startled.
"Sit down" he ordered "I don't want to repeat myself."
You could take your things and run away, if you managed to unlock the door before he caught up with you, but then you would have to explain a lot of things and maybe the punishment would get worse, because that school was one of those that believed in the strictest discipline. You sat down, cursing in your head, and with trembling hands you took your notebook and pencil. The teacher stood in front of you, leaning on the desk, and began to dictate the formulas in his slow, calm voice.
You didn't know how long it had been going on, the tingling and discomfort in your bladder occupied almost all your attention, you began to write clumsily, you made mistakes and Professor Hawke, as if he didn't know what was happening to you, reduced himself to correcting you by pointing out the misspelled parts and repeating the correct form. You couldn't take it anymore and again, teary-eyed, you lifted your face.
"Sir, please!"
The professor didn't flinch, he looked at you coldly without making any gestures.
"Please!" you pleaded again, and a tear slipped from your face. It was too late, you could feel your sphincter giving up, whatever happened you weren't going to be able to avoid what was coming, and the only reason you didn't get up was because you didn't want to make the situation worse, if that was possible.
Something warm soaked your skirt, and you felt the liquid trickling down your thighs. Humiliated, you ducked your head to cry, your hands trembled, and you dropped your pencil so you could cover your face. It was a nightmare, you thought, it was not possible that you had really just peed in the classroom, and on top of that, in front of the Geometry teacher.
The teacher noticed what happened, and sighed with resignation.
"(Y/N), get up" it was the first time he used your name, and that only made you feel more miserable "Get up" he ordered more emphatically, reaching out a hand to grab your arm and force you off the desk. The back of your skirt was wet, and a tiny puddle had formed on the seat, dripping down to the floor, and you couldn't stop crying.
"Please let me out" you begged again, all you wanted was to run away, but he ignored your words.
"(Y/N), you are going to put your hands on the edge of the desk and lean your back forward" he indicated in that low, intimidating voice. You had no choice, and as you stood like that, disgusted by your condition, you heard him say, "Part of discipline is to face the consequences of our actions, even those we perform without intending to harm someone."
You heard a curious, metallic noise. You cocked your head to one side, but then Professor Hawke blurted out:
"I didn't tell you to move!"
You ducked your head again, nervous.
"I'm sorry," you said only, hoping that didn't make him angrier. Fortunately, it didn't seem to.
"You know that damaging school property is grounds for sanction" he explained. You couldn't see him, but he was folding his sleeves, as you so often saw him do in class for the secret enjoyment of the students, including you "I won't pass on a report of what happened, but I want you to learn this day...that every act has its consequences. Count to ten."
You didn't get to ask why he wanted you to count, because you knew thanks to an intense pain that hit you in your lower body. A sudden, stabbing pain, straight against your butt and which you immediately related to a wide, narrow object.
"Count!" he repeated to you. You gulped.
"One...Ah!" you received another stroke, not far from where the first one landed, and your body instinctively cringed.
"I won't count that one, speak up!"
"One!" you almost shouted.
"Good... just like that" and a third blow, which by bad luck you were to count only as the second, made you jump.
"Two!"
By then you were aware that he was hitting you with his belt. The situation was horrific in many ways, but you couldn't help but formulate in your mind the image you couldn't see: your body bent over the desk, your ass raised in the air in front of Professor Hawke's eyes, who was spanking it mercilessly as he ordered you to count each blow. It wasn't your best angle because you were dirty, but on the other hand, the nightmare seemed to slowly migrate to another complexion.
"Seven!" you whimpered, hiding your face in the desk. The professor reached over and, with little care, grabbed you by the hair and tugged on it to force your head up. You noticed his body clinging to yours, the subtle scent of his cologne, his breath caressing your cheek as he spoke to you.
"Don't bend your head, stay just as I ordered, or you will receive more spankings, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
His eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds longer, your eyes glistening with tears, your lips trembling and bearing teeth marks. Professor Hawke nodded and let go of your hair, going back to the charge until you reached number ten. The clunk of the buckle as the belt hit the floor echoed throughout the room, and as you remained pinned to the desk, shaking and aching, you noticed a hand brush your back, almost tenderly, moving up between your shoulder blades to the back of your neck.
"See how easy it is?" he whispered, bringing his face close to yours again "You could have avoided all this...all you had to do was control yourself, like you just did. I bet you wanted to punch me, hmm?" his lips came close to your ear, and you could almost feel them brushing against your lobe "Tell me, are you still upset?"
You didn't know what to answer, his hand was still caressing you, now heading down to your hip. Careful not to touch the messy fabric, he slid his hand over your ass until he reached your right thigh, lifting the skirt to meet the bare skin underneath.
"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" he almost seemed to tease when he said it "Are you one of those girls who gets off on being spanked?"
"No, sir" you replied, averting your gaze.
"Then why are you suddenly so submissive?" his other hand cupped your chin, causing you to turn your head towards him "Look at me."
His eyes seemed to hold another kind of fire, even more intense than yours, and his lips pressed against your cheek once, and again, tender kisses that seemed to test the waters. You closed your eyes, his hand still caressing your thigh, his mouth moved to yours and kissed it, first for a few moments, then with more intensity, imprisoning you.
"Open a little more" he commanded, and you obeyed him without thinking. His tongue entered your mouth, entwining with yours, and a moan of surprise was stifled between the two of you. His left hand left your face and slipped under your shirt, caressing the uncovered part of your breasts. You felt your knees weaken, unable to resist those well-measured and expert caresses that completely eliminated the pain you had gone through just a few minutes before.
The kiss broke, you half-opened your eyes, gasping, feeling abandoned even though you also needed to breathe. Professor Hawke's hands then went under your skirt, grabbed the elastic of your underwear and pulled until you felt the garment slide down your legs. You again felt an access of panic.
"Mr. Hawke!"
"You can't leave them on" he replied "They're dirty."
Before you could protest he kissed you again, hugging your waist in such a way that his body was leaning from behind against yours. You could feel just above your thighs something hard behind the fabric of his pants, and determined to play along, you stood on your tiptoes and wiggled your hips a little, seeking to brush against him. Your attempt did not go unnoticed, and you heard the professor grunt:
"Forget it...I don't have condoms here."
The blunt way he said it made your insides tingle. Never had your fantasies gone so far, hearing from his own lips that he wished to fuck you was well worth the whole punishment thing.
"I could..." you murmured, surprised at your own boldness, in the midst of another kiss.
"What?" he asked. Again, you averted your gaze, and felt your cheeks flush.
"I can suck it."
The professor gave an affectionate chuckle, and stroked your hair.
"Open your mouth. Big."
You did just as he said, his fingers squeezed your cheeks and you saw him smile.
"Yeah... I bet you'd look great with my cock in your mouth. But not today."
He moved closer again, but instead of kissing you, he spat into your mouth. He slipped two fingers into it, playing with your and his saliva, pinching your tongue as if with pliers, and when he was satisfied he pulled them out, soaking wet, and brought his hand to your vulva. He brushed a finger between your labia, back and forth, and each time he reached your hypersensitive button he paused to squeeze it. It wasn't long before you began to breathe faster as his fingers stimulated your intimacy, each time going a little deeper into your pussy that was already throbbing in demand to be penetrated.
"You feel so good" he murmured, panting "You're so soft, so hot... what plump lips you have, I'd like to bite them..."
Your chest fell onto the desk, but the professor didn't reprimand you for it, he too was holding onto the desk, pressed as he was behind you. Your back arched and met his chest, and you took the opportunity to leave a kiss on his neck.
"Yes... do it again" he asked, and the next one was slower, pressing against your lips as if you wished to suck on the skin. A low groan escaped his lips "Yes... keep going, sweetie, keep going like this..."
You took his other hand, and meekly, Professor Hawke allowed you to bring it up to your mouth, where you took his thumb in your mouth and sucked on it, caressing it with your tongue as you felt his fingers finally enter you fully. Your walls tightened around them, and you noticed how he retracted and stretched them again, wrenching another moan from you that you barely managed to muffle with his other hand, which he rested over your mouth to silence you.
"Good girl..." he whispered as he fingered you "You're a good girl, so perfect..." he increased the speed and you noticed the tingle of the approaching orgasm, to your great surprise "You're close, aren't you? I can feel it, I can feel your pussy tightening... Can I hold your neck?" he asked, and you nodded. His free hand left your mouth and clutched at your throat, the feel of his long, firm fingers around your neck worked like fuel, and you began to move against his fingers, desperate "You want to cum, don't you? Let me..."
His fingers tightened a little more, you felt the pressure on the sides of your neck, and you listened to the professor explain:
"When the brain is deprived of oxygen for a few moments, bodily sensations increase, do you want to try?"
You nodded without thinking, the idea was dangerous, but you didn't care, what more could you ask for if you were prey to the lust of that attractive man. You felt then that his hand was clenching tighter, and although you could breathe, somehow you felt as if he was strangling you. You imagined him doing the same, pushing you against the blackboard, claiming how you had misbehaved again in his class, and a series of languid whimpers accompanied the moments leading up to your longed-for climax.
"Harder" you pleaded, and Professor Hawke complied. You noticed difficulty breathing, but also that the tingling was increasing. A few seconds later, your whole body tensed, and with a final gasp you collapsed, feeling like jelly.
"Are you ok?" your lover's voice seemed to reach you behind a dense fog, you felt how he placed kisses on your neck and face "You did very well... breathe, you need to relax... you did very well..."
After that you could better feel the sweat on your body, the wetness on your labia and thighs, the pain in your legs from having been in such an uncomfortable position for so long, and Professor Hawke's arms holding you as you regained your balance. His face was also sweaty, and his erection was still visible. You felt the urge to reach out a hand and touch him, but you restrained yourself to look at him and give him your most affectionate smile.
"Please forgive me" you said "I won't misbehave again, I promise."
The man laughed, brushing a few hairs away from your face to kiss your forehead.
"I know you won't... But, tell me... would you be interested in signing up for office hours?"
