kkisstheladder

[kkisstheladder]

╰┈➤ professor! ♡ j. yunho

⋆˚꩜  your professor wants to talk to you about your plummeting grades, so why are you now bent over his desk?

❤︎  pairing: professor!yunho x student!fem!reader . ❤︎  genre – warnings: smut (minors do NOT interact), nsfw, university au, power imbalance, unprotected sex, dubious consent, coercion, oral sex (m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, praise kink, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie, nude photos, use of ‘good girl’, ‘baby’, and ‘sweetheart’ . ❤︎  wc: 4.4k . ❤︎  notes: hi tumblr… this is 100% a fully self indulgent fic. zero shame. i'll be posting more atz, (maybe) enha, and skz too so pls stay on the lookout if u like this! <3<3<3 also im addicted to golden hour pt3… yungis wrecking me so hard rn.

⋆˚꩜ AO3 READER? ➜ here!

𝄞  tear you apart – she wants revenge

it was eerily silent when you reached the door you’ve been dreading all day. 

the footsteps echoed a little too loud as you approached, every subtle sound amplified in the dim corridor. the building was mostly empty, a few students wandering, the university hallways frozen. you can’t tell if the chills were from the temperature or something else.

you paused in front of the door. his name was etched into the frosted glass in clean black lettering: ‘Professor Jeong’. your nerves were all over the place, legs trembling as you raised your fist to the door. you knocked once.

”come in.” he said in that familiar, soothing voice, loud enough to hear, but not a shout. you opened the creaking door, hesitating just a second before stepping inside.

he was seated behind his desk, the warm golden light from the desk lamp catching all his sharpest features. his sleeves were rolled up, only slightly past his elbows neatly. he looked so beautiful sitting there. he just looked up at you, for a little too long, saying nothing at all. 

all your friends teased you about your silly crush on him, but you felt something deeper, a strange connection to him — like an invisible string tying you to one another, bound for life. he was the perfect man: compassionate, handsome, humorous, you couldn’t help but feel instantly attracted. you came to realise it would likely never happen, considering he was your professor after all, but you wished so desperately it could. 

“take a seat.” he gestured towards the chair across from him. 

you did, clutching your bag strap as you lowered yourself into the cold chair, bag rested by your side. his eyes followed the hem of your skirt, your bare thighs against the cold leather seat. you didn’t miss it. you noticed your papers sat on his desk, all marked with a big red ‘F’. the pure shame you felt was unmeasurable.

”so,” he spoke softly, setting his pen down. “struggling are we?” 

you nodded, feeling the shame building inside of you as you look down, avoiding any and all eye contact with him. “i don’t understand what happened. i’ve been following the same methods, formatting, researching…” 

he leaned back in his chair, elbows rested on the arms of his chair and hands intertwined. “and yet, you keep failing.” 

your chest tightened. “i’m sorry sir… i don’t know what i’ve done wrong.”

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly when he looked at you. “i really do hate seeing bright girls like you struggle.”

a shiver crept up your spine, goosebumps forming on your arms. you weren’t sure if it was from the cold in the room or the way he said it. the way he praised you. there was something about the way he looked at you — something predatory hidden beneath his sweet demeanour, and you were an innocent lamb. 

“i just… please… i need this scholarship. i can’t afford to lose it.” you sniffled, hoping it didn’t turn into a sob by the end of this discussion. your fingers dug into the bare skin of your thighs, clinging on to any source of comfort.  

his eyes darkened, leaving behind the once compassionate man, his expression now unreadable. “then we’ll have to find a way to get those grades back up, won’t we?” 

you blinked, frowning, teardrops gathering in your eyes. “yes. please. i’ll do anything.” 

the words slipped out before you could even think about them. his eyes flickered to yours in an instant, holding your gaze. 

“anything?” 

you swallowed. he hadn’t even raised his voice once, he never did, he never needed to, and yet something in the air had changed. 

“yes…” 

the silence remained for a while.

then he stood up, and slowly walked over towards a metal cabinet, reaching in to pull out some papers. he did it all so precisely, cautiously. even his steps were calculated as he made his way over to you. he sprawled the papers on his desk, right in front for you to see. he leaned back against the edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest as he looked down at you. his knee touched yours, and he didn’t move away. 

“you’ve always been one of my favourite students,” his gaze fixates on the papers, your previous essays, an ‘A’ circled with a small ‘Good work.’ under the grade. “always so eager. so attentive.” 

you couldn’t speak. his eyes were back on you, your little skirt, your innocent eyes. it was as though you were a locked door he already had the key to. 

“so why is it you’re failing my class?” he inquires, inching closer. 

“i-i don’t know…” 

he reached down slowly, fingers just brushing your chin. you stiffened, but didn’t pull away. 

“you don’t know?” he repeated.

the air between you was electric. his touch was light, but deliberate. you knew he shouldn’t be this close. he shouldn’t be touching you at all. but still, you didn’t move. 

“i’ve seen you looking at me.” he murmured. “do you think i wouldn’t?” 

then the trembling came. the dry mouth, lips parted, whilst he felt all morals slipping away. he wanted nothing more than to ruin you. break you. 

he leaned in closer, the feeling of his breath on your cheek. “do you know how hard it’s been? watching you come into class in those tiny skirts, feigning innocence?”

”that… wasn’t my intention, professor…” you gazed up at him, eyes wet, locked with one anothers.

he laughed, low, teasing. “then what was?”

his hand slipped to your jaw, and then your throat, his hand loosely wrapping around it — not tight, just enough to make your thighs clench instinctively. he noticed. 

“i could ruin you.” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “and you’d thank me for it.”

god you hated how much you wanted this. 

he released you just as slowly, hand falling back to the desk and pointing at your numerous papers. 

“i could fix this for you. one change in the system,” he paused. “but what would i get in return?” 

you practically freeze in that moment. the words sit with you, marinating in your mind, finally understanding what it is he wants. 

“i can’t… we… ca—“ he shushes you before you can say anything more. 

“be honest with me,” he whispered, inches from your face.

you nodded dumbly. his voice had a weight to it, teasingly dangling your scholarship over your head leaving you vulnerable, submissive — exactly what he wanted. 

“do you want to fix this?”

”y-yes…” 

“then ask me nicely.” 

your cheeks burned. “ask you… what?” 

“ask me to help you, sweetheart.” 

the contact made you dizzy, his slender hand cupping your jaw. you couldn’t think. 

“please… help me. i don’t want to fail.” you cry to him, pleading and begging. 

his eyes seem so sweet now as he looks at you, even though you know it’s all fake. “you’ll do anything to stay, won’t you now?” 

you swallowed whatever other words you were going to say. “yes.” 

he smiled. not sweetly, not an ounce of kindness in his smirk. the way a wolf might smile at its prey. 

“thought so.” 

his hand slid from your jaw, down the curve of your throat. his fingers lingered there once more, but he pressed harder this time. not too tight, but enough to make your breath catch. his other hand made way to your thighs, leaving the hem of your skirt. he tutted. 

“look how short this skirt is…” he uttered “you knew how this would end, didn’t you?” 

you shook your head, eyes pleading and welling up with tears. “n-no i didn’t… i didn’t know—“

”you mean to say this isn’t for me?” he almost sounds disappointed.

his grip tightened ever so slightly, light, but sending a message. one that reads as ‘i have all the control.’ 

“be honest. you wanted me to look. you liked it, didn’t you? sitting in the front row, desperately trying to get my attention, feeling my eyes on your thighs and pretending not to notice.” 

your thighs squeezed together involuntarily, the heat building between them unbearable. 

“i liked it…” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear.

”hm?”

you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “i… liked it.” 

his thumb pressed against your pulse. “look at me.” and you did just that. 

once you looked up you saw it: hunger. desperation. the loss of control in the way he looked at you, like he was starving. 

“you’ve been so good,” he murmured, finally releasing your throat as his other hand lay still on your thigh. “coming to me like this. all shy. vulnerable.” he caresses your thigh whilst leaning into your face. 

“you want me to change that grade?”

you nodded eagerly.

”then get on your knees, baby.” he demands, stern and unmoving. “show me how much you want this.” 

the words went straight through you, like you’d been shot in the heart in the best way possible. you stood on shaking legs before hesitantly lowering yourself in front of him. your knees hit the cold office floor. you look up, and he was already looking at you, like you were is newest addiction. he always had this unreadable expression, nobody knew how he was feeling, not even you. he undid his belt slowly. teasingly. his voice stayed calm, but the lust beneath it was impossible to miss.

“my perfect student.” he breathed, combing his fingers through your hair. you were his. undeniably his — to ruin, to corrupt and break. your knees were pressed to the cold floorboards, the act feeling so wrong in this quiet space. his scent was everywhere now — cologne, leather, arousal. above you, he simply smirked, a soft, sweet smile to anyone else. but to you, it was because he owned you. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.” 

and you did. his hand tangled in your hair, gathering it all in one as he unzipped his trousers, pulling you closer and pulling himself out without shame. he was already hard, thick and swollen, and absolutely not gentle as he patted the head of his cock against your parted lips. you underestimated how big he was. 

“stick out your tongue,” he said, voice a low demand. 

you obeyed, eyes already watering. 

“i love how obedient you are when desperate,” he smirked, a devilish grin. “on your knees, crying with a cock down your throat for a grade.” 

you winced, crying even more as the shame made your thighs press tighter. 

“don’t pretend you dont love it.” he groaned, pushing forward into your mouth, dragging his dick across your tongue like he was trying to leave a mark. “you’ve wanted this since the first time you saw me.” 

then he shoved deeper, a tight grip in your hair forcing you down on him, hitting the back of your throat as he stuffs your mouth full of him, an involuntary gag coming from you with your hands flying to his thighs for support. 

“good girl,” he hissed, pulling your hair tighter, making sure you don’t go anywhere. he wants to savour this moment, the moment he breaks an innocent girl. “take all of it… let me see you cry for me.” 

tears spilled fast, your throat tightening around him as you choke. you could have tried pulling away, but you didn’t want to. every erotic noise, every humiliating word that came out of his mouth, and yet you still didn’t push back. the room echoed every lewd sound, spit bubbling, muffled coughs and splutters, the loud gasp for air you let out when he finally let you. he pulled out with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. you coughed and gasped for air, mouth agape. 

“look at you,” he whispered, pulling your hair to look up at him. you looked at him through blurred eyes, tears masking whatever heinous expression he was making. “a fucking mess already…” 

he slapped his cock against your wet, red cheek, once or twice as he watched the next tear fall down your face. he talks to you like you were inferior to him — less than.

he pushed back in with far more force, zero mercy when it came down to you, forcing himself down your throat with a groan as he started fucking your mouth in rough, rhythmic thrusts. he knew you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. you clawed at his thighs, nails digging hard enough to leave marks through his trousers. the moans and chokes coming out of you helped him all the more, encouraging him to speed up, fuck harder and faster into your mouth. the front of your grey sweater had turned dark, covered in drool and spit. you were too far gone at this point.

”cry for me, sweetheart.” he groaned in a low, raspy voice. “let me see you. see what a mess i’ve made out of such a beautiful girl.” 

the tears didn’t stop, throat burning as he filled the empty space with himself, but your panties were getting wetter by the minute. your thighs squirm, wet and needy. 

“you don’t need good grades,” he spat, tilting his head back before looking back down at you with pity in his eyes. “you need to learn how to take dick like a good girl.” 

he fucked into you as hard as possible, with no remorse and absolutely zero shame. he knew it was completely wrong to have a relationship with one of his students, to treat one this way, if anyone found out, he’d surely be fired on the spot.

especially if they knew he was failing you on purpose.

the other students were uninterested, obnoxious. but you? you were special. you craved his attention, focused on every word he spoke, watched attentively at every move he made. so, he had to do something to get some time alone with you. he found only one solution; and you fell for it completely. now kneeled before him, letting him use and abuse you, a man you hardly know anything about. 

why can’t this moment just last forever?

you winced around him, mascara smeared and tears streaming, and he couldn’t stop looking down at you — like you were the most magnificent mess he had ever seen. despite all his words, you truly were breathtaking. he might tease and insult, but there was no one quite like yourself. he couldn’t believe his plan had worked so well.

“my perfect girl… fuck…” he moaned, tilting his head back and shoving himself all the way down your throat with no room to breathe. he never wanted to let you go, to stay like this forever, you look so perfect with his cock down your throat, face red and blotchy. you could only oblige, wanting to do anything to please him. his hands gripped the back of your head, fully taking advantage of your throat, leaving bruises for later so that when you think of them you think of him. “fuck— you’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” 

then he pulled out again suddenly, spit dripping down your chin. you filled your lungs as quickly as you could, coughing and gasping for breath, holding your throat to soothe yourself. then he kneeled before you, combing your dampened hair back behind your ear, with a gentleness that shouldn’t be there.

”look at me…” he cupped your face with his other free hand, holding you gently. 

you did as you were told, gazing up at him with those big, watery eyes of yours. 

“you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” 

without hesitation you nodded, eager to do whatever he says. 

“good girl.” he spoke so softly, too softly. his hand found your hair again, entangling his fingers in amongst it all, his other hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you up from the office floor, your legs trembling. 

for the first time, he kissed you. a sloppy kiss with nothing but desperation and lust — greed alongside it. he wanted more, far more than he originally planned. in an instant, he pushed your back up against the desk like it was nothing, arching as you clung onto the edge. he pressed up to you, breaking away from the kiss to whisper in your ear. 

“bend over the desk for me, will you?” it sounded much like a request, but nothing about it was. it was a demand, disguised as an offer. his calming voice made it worse. 

of course you obeyed. even if you could say no, you know you wouldn’t. you stretch across the desk, pounding chest pressed into the cold wood. he ran a hand underneath your skirt and up your thigh, fingers teasing at your underwear before he rolled your skirt up to sit just above your ass. he ran a finger between your clothed folds, shamefully soaked. 

“fuck,” he laughed, low and almost cruel, yet pleased. “this wet already? you liked choking on my dick that much?” 

he pulled your panties to the side, slipping two fingers in without warning, a loud moan escaping your lips before he shut you up with his other hand. 

“come on baby… we can’t be too loud.” he breathed down your neck, pulling you up and arching your back further, his other hand fucking in and out of you slowly, painfully slowly. “god you’re so fucking tight. it’s almost a shame to ruin you.” 

he was lying. there was no shame in what he was doing, or what he felt towards you. there was no way to describe it other than complete lust, addiction maybe. your moans were muffled by his hand, unable to contain them as he split you open with just his fingers. 

he pulled his fingers out so suddenly, pulling your panties down to sit at your knees, leaving you a sopping wet mess all over his desk. your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to prepare yourself. he placed one hand on the small of your back, holding you down — right where he wanted you. 

“god, look at this view.” his voice was driving you insane, deep and calming as he praised you. you felt his fingers graze your thighs again, spreading your legs wider and just admiring what he owned. 

the shock that hit when you felt him, teasing you with the head of his cock at your entrance, was a feeling you’ll never forget. sliding his tip through the slick between your folds with slow, deliberate strokes. he wasn’t in a rush, making this all the more perfect and somehow worse. he wanted to savour the moment. savour you.

uncontrollable moans came out of your mouth as he pushed into you, inch by inch until he bottomed out, staying there momentarily. you winced and gasped, nails scratching at the wooden surface for some sort of comfort to grab onto. he stretched you in the best way, forcing your walls to adjust to the shape of him. he leaned down and whispered into your ear, pulling you up by the hair to make sure you hear him.

“you take me all so well baby…” he groaned, tugging your hair so hard it was enough to make you wince out, breath hot against your cheek. “you like this? you like letting me use you, huh?” 

“yes… please — fuck — give me more…” 

he hissed as he pulled out and thrusted back in immediatly with a snap of his hips. you choked a moan, brains scrambled as he set a rough rhythm, brutal but precise. his fingers curled tighter in your hair as he fucked you faster.

“that’s right, take every inch…” his voice was so calming for a situation like this, soothing. your body jolted with every thrust in, his cock hitting so deep it made you dizzy. he kept your head held back, arched perfectly for him, his free hand sliding to grip your throat again. 

“so fucking good for me,” he murmured, soft and gentle. “so pretty with your face soaked in tears.” 

you hadn’t stopped crying — was it shame? disappointment? pure bliss? who’s to say, but you couldn’t get enough of him. he made you feel so good, the length, the pace, the praise, like you were his favourite sin. you cried for him more, face wet with your own tears as more streamed down.

”there she is,” he praised. “my perfect pupil. no one else gets to see you like this, nobody but me.” 

he pulled you back further until you were arched into him, face looking back to lock eyes with his. there was nothing but lust in his eyes, not love. lust. pure desire and desperation, determined to keep you his forever. 

“stay mine forever… please…” for once he begged. not pitiful, possessive. your knees almost buckled until he caught you, arm around your waist to hold you in place while he fucked you through it. you felt so oddly secure, safe in his arms as he slammed into you. you felt deserving of this, like you had earned it, you were the professors favourite after all.

”you hear how wet you are for me?” he breathed into your ear, kissing up and down your neck any chance he got, leaving behind dark bruises on your delicate skin. the sound of your bodies, lewd and obscene, echoed throughout the office. he wanted you to be quiet but couldn’t stay quiet himself, not when he thought you were the most perfect girl for him.

”sounds like you’ve been waiting for this moment, huh?” 

“i— fuck! — i have…” you spoke through broken moans, the desk shaking by this point, scraping across the floor, everything falling off. you spotted your papers, scrunched a bit and messied from the fallout. it reminded you why you were there, because of those essays. your eyes flickered to the ‘Good work.’ on one of your best papers, and couldn’t believe that is where this all started. your little teacher crush, now fucking into you with so much force you wont be able to walk into class tomorrow. 

“you make me so proud, baby,” he was right next to your ear, exhausted breathing breaking the words apart. “giving me everything i want, letting me fuck you so deep…” 

a high-pitched moan escaped your lips as he spoke, followed by his hand over your mouth once again, shutting you up for the time being. a part of you wanted someone to overhear, grow envious of your position, but the shame you felt stopped you. suddenly his thrusts slowed, just enough to let you feel every inch of him inside of you, his cock shaping your walls. 

“i want you to remember this,” he moaned out with every thrust. “everytime you sit in my class, you’ll think of what happened here.” 

you moaned into his hand with every movement from him, eyes watering and legs trembling. his mouth found your shoulder, kissing along it, nibbling at some points as his hand dropped from your mouth. you tried to contain your own moans until he pushed so deep into you his name came out in a low, soft whisper — not ‘sir’, or ‘professor’, his name, a trembling moan that sounded like a prayer. 

he slammed into you again, faster this time, breathing heavy, your words having flipped a switch in his brain. his grip tightened on your hip, using your body like it belonged to him. 

“you gonna let me cum inside, beautiful?” 

“y-yes… need it — i need you,” 

and that was all the confirmation he needed. he groaned, loud, deep, fucking you through it. his thrusts were sharp, hips smashing into yours until he came, cock twitching deep inside you as he buried himself to the hilt.

he stood there for a moment, his body up against yours, breathing heavily, hand still intertwined in your hair, his other digging his nails into your hip. and then, so softly, he spoke:

”my perfect student...”

you didn’t move. you couldn’t. just stayed there, slumped over his desk, his cum dripping from your aching cunt, reddened cheeks still wet from your tears. your body trembled for so long after he pulled out. 

you didn’t even hear his hand move, the subtle sound of fabric shifting and the unmistakable click. you flinched slightly from the unexpected noise.

”don’t tense baby,” his hand stroked your ass, still on full display for his perfect photo. “just stay like that for me, i want to remember you like this.”

you flinched as his thumb spread your folds, the camera clicking once more.

”god, look at that.” he spoke in a low whisper. “my perfect mess, stretched and leaking.”

his praise made your heart flutter, even now as you are laid spread on his desk, at your most vulnerable, a shy smile on your face.

“you took it so well, baby.” his fingers traced your spine, tingling from where he grazed. “just to keep that scholarship.”

he leaned down, voice brushing your ear. “to keep me happy.”

you whimpered as he spoke, unintelligble words, but he was already reaching down to pull your panties back into place, useless now really. he fixed your skirt, pulling it back down and handling you with such care. there wasn’t much to do about your sweater, covered in sweat and drool. he was now facing you, hands rested on your hips. 

“take this off lovely,” his fingers tugged at the bottom of your sweater, pulling it off of you, leaving you with nothing but a black tank top. “still just as beautiful.” 

you can’t tell if his words were genuine, but you couldn’t care less. his hands cupped your face, your eyes blank and dazed.

”still with me sweetheart?” he was so sweet now, the sudden change in his voice so different from him earlier. you nodded, looking up at him with puppy eyes. he smiled at that, proudly.

”you did so fucking well.” his thumb grazed your cheek, providing an ounce of comfort. “so pretty when you cry.” 

you blinked at him, lips parted and eyes glossed over, like in a trance. his lips touched your forehead, an act of love — but here? it was anything but. 

your legs trembled as you began to move away, smiling at him so sweetly, innocently. 

“next time,” his voice hushed, his body still close to yours. he smirked at you “don’t be late tomorrow, maybe if we have a spare 15 minutes…”

you nod.

maybe you’ll show up an hour early instead.