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thetypingpup · 2 years

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Of Silver Tongues and Golden Days

Pairing: creative writing professor!kun x student!reader (female reader)

Genre: smut, college!au

Wordcount: 3.2K

Content: age gap (legal ofc), oral (female receiving), unprotected sex in the lecture hall, pet names, lots of praise and body worship

Attraction and desire are incredible forms of inspiration, and Dr. Qian decides to show you just how much you inspire him.

“...And that’s why you want to incorporate sensory details.”

You’re trying your hardest to pay attention to Dr. Qian, you really are. This was your favorite class this semester, and you really did learn from him. But today, you found yourself phasing in and out of the lecture, catching only bits and pieces at a time.

If you’re being honest with yourself, everything about him turns you on. From the way his lips move as he talks, to the way his long fingers curl around the expo marker as he writes, to the timbre of his voice as he explains what was in the textbook chapter you didn’t read before class. At one point he steps away from his podium to the other side of the board and you can only wonder why did he decide to wear a blazer today? As if his attire of a button up and rather tight fitting slacks wasn’t enough, now you had to endure the absolutely alluring way the blazer frames his shoulders and torso.

Dr. Qian has always been attractive, one of the most attractive professors you ever had, but today it’s really starting to get to you. Maybe it’s the way sunlight floods in through the windows, highlighting the subtle gleam in his dark eyes and brightening the room with bright gold rays. Maybe it was the way he kept glancing in your direction throughout the lecture, those eyes boring into yours as he instructs the class to, “Focus on how you feel writing the scene.”

It’s not the first time he looked in your direction, but today his eyes are alight with something intense, imperceptible to everyone except for you. His gaze ignites something within you, bringing heat to the surface of your cheeks as you try in vain to pay attention to the rest of the lecture. You press your legs together, feeling a flicker of arousal right between your legs as he says, “Really draw the reader in and immerse them. Make them feel what you feel.”

You let out a sigh of relief as he sits at his desk and assigns you a short prompt to work on. All you had to do was pick something in the room and describe it. You rush to take out a pen and paper, thankful to receive a reprieve from the onslaught of erotic excitement. Your hand automatically moves across the paper and you get lost in the words you write, allowing yourself the chance to get your feelings under control and stare at something other than his adam’s apple or his sharp jawline. The energy that thrums through your body is soon channeled through your hand and onto the page in the form of hastily scribbled words, and for the first time since you walked in, you can breathe easy without the staccato stutter from sensual stimulation.

Dr. Qian looks calm and collected as he thumbs through his book, waiting for the students to hand in their assignments before leaving. You make sure you’re the last one done, staring right at him as you add your paper to the pile. His soft hair is still perfectly styled, not a hair out of place, round glasses perched atop his nose. Standing in front of his desk, face to face with those hands, those lips, those eyes, has your breath hitching despite yourself.

“Finished?” He quirks a brow but doesn’t look up from his book, his tone deceptively casual.

You nod, biting your lip. You stand there at his desk, waiting as he sets the book down and picks up your prompt. He reads over your paper, eyes widening for a moment in shock before gleaming with satisfaction. He chuckles softly, and you’re not sure whether to be offended or worried at his reaction.

“Do you know what you wrote?” He inquires with a curious lilt. Honestly you weren’t sure what was on the paper, too lost in trying to distract yourself from staring at him.

He hands your paper back to you, the corner of his lip lifting in amusement, “It would appear that you wrote about me.”

You feel all sensation drain from your face as you scan the words on the page. All of your thoughts were right there, clear as day, even musings that weren’t consciously at the forefront of your mind. You described every part of him with the utmost detail, from his face, to his voice, to his attire, to the idea of a tent forming between his legs as you-

“There’s no need to be worried. I don’t mind.” His words thankfully pull you out of your riviere, his expression kind and calm as he admits, “If anything, I’m quite flattered to be a source of inspiration for you. After all, that’s what you are to me.”

He’s just as calm as he stands from his desk and approaches you from behind, hands automatically finding purchase on the curve of your waist. Those plush lips you spent a great deal of time eyeing brush over your ear as he whispers to you, “You’ve been an inspiration to me for quite some time, my dear. Everytime I look at you, everytime you speak, I feel a rush of exhilaration that I haven’t felt in such a long time. Ideas flow through my mind faster than I could keep up with, mingling with an ever present need to have you. I envision sweeping landscapes and gorgeous designs, backdrops for plots of grand proportions. At first I tried to ignore it, trying to maintain the boundaries of this...academic relationship, but I can’t deny it anymore.”

His voice is deeper than earlier, taking on an almost rough quality that has you weak in the knees as he speaks, “I want you. I want you more than anyone I’ve ever had. Truth be told I’ve been lusting after you all semester, and now that I see that you want me too, I just have to get my chance. That is, if you’ll let me.”

By now your head is spinning with arousal, and you grip the edge of the desk to ground yourself. You turn around and breathlessly tell him yes Dr. Qian, yes you want him too. How could you say no when he tells you in that voice that he’s been wanting you just as badly as you want him?

“Kun,” He insists as he leans in closer, chest pressed against your back, “I want to hear you say my name while you take my cock.”

His lips feel so good as they trail kisses down your neck, heated pleasure sparking from each spot he kisses. You gasp in surprise as he presses his hips against your ass, and you can feel that he’s even more worked up than you. The outline of his arousal is clear as day, and your mind whirls with lust as his hands grab hold of your hips and he grinds against you, pulling you against him.

“This, is how I always imagined having you,” He mutters between quiet grunts, and you bite back a moan as you feel his length slide against your core through your clothes, “Bent over my desk just like this, screaming my name as you gasp for air, fucking you right into the hard wood.”

“But first,” He pauses, relaxing his grip on you as he says, “I have to see the rest of that gorgeous body for myself.”

He makes quick work of your clothes, a flurry of garments falling to the floor in a rush of fabric. Statements of want escape his lips atop quick pants as he gets more worked up by the moment, “I couldn’t wait to see you like this, completely undressed and all to myself. And now, now that I see what you look like under those layers of clothes…”

He trails off and before you know it your ass meets the cool wood of the edge of the desk, his hands settling on your hips as he gazes at you with a look of sheer reverence, “You’re even more perfect than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Anything you have to say disappears on the tip of your tongue as he kisses you feverishly, hands roving all over your body. Within seconds he grabs one of your thighs, squeezing it as his other hand fondles your breast. You manage to tug his blazer off his shoulders as you kiss him back just as hard, humming against his mouth as he presses closer to you. The blazer falls to the floor in a heap of black fabric as you tug open the buttons of his shirt, watching between kisses as the planes of his broad chest are slowly revealed. He grips your waist at this, fingertips pressing into the skin harder and harder as his tongue slips past your lips. His tongue strokes your own as he maps out your mouth, and he moans aloud against your lips.

“I could keep kissing this beautiful mouth of yours all day,” He breathes out between kisses, “Your lips are so soft and fit perfectly against mine, like you were made for me.”

He pulls back for the moment and cups your face, speaking to you in a tone of reverence that has your cheeks burning so hot you’re sure he can feel it as his thumbs brush over your cheekbones, “You’re gorgeous my dear, from your dazzling eyes, to your soft lips, to your beautiful hair. Absolutely gorgeous.”

He takes a moment and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes darkened with lust as he looks you up and down, “But the rest of you must be appreciated as well.”

His lips move down your throat to where your neck meets your shoulder, dancing over the skin of your collarbone as he muses aloud, “You look positively delectable, my dear. It’s almost too good to be true, that I can see every inch of your skin, touch every part of this glorious form.”

Heat continues to burn atop your cheeks as his hands fondle your breasts, kneading the flesh in his eager hands, “You are truly something to behold, from the peaks of your breasts to the valley of your waiting core. You need only ask, and I would travel this landscape every day.”

His head moves down quickly, pure need slowly overtaking his desire to explore you. He traces a line right down the middle of your torso with his mouth, all the while describing each bit of you in exquisite detail. His lips press against every part of you, even your imperfections, insisting they add to the absolutely radiant portrait that is you. The mixture of timidity and titillation flowing through you becomes more overwhelming by the moment, swirling in a viscous pool in the pit of your stomach. To think that he’s coming up with these poetic descriptions off the top of his head, all because of you, has you more turned on than you ever thought possible.

His face is nestled between your breasts, nuzzling the flesh as he mumbles, “You’re a work of art, like a statue carved by the greatest sculptor, and crafted from the finest stone in the land. The most delicate and meticulous brush strokes came together to form the painting that is you, more worthy of awe and wonder than the birth of Aphrodite herself.”

The next thing you know he’s kneeling beneath you, teasing your legs apart with practiced ease before pressing open mouthed kisses just below your navel. He looks up at you with those eyes as he slowly teases his way down to the apex of your thighs, those eyes now alight with eroticism and pure esteem. He doesn’t stop mumbling about how beautiful you are as he mouths at your thighs, using a hint of teeth to punctuate his points, just enough to make you gasp and grab his hair.

You let out a rather undignified squeak as he buries his nose in your heat, taking a long inhale. He picks up on your shyness as chuckles as he pulls back, remarking, “Remember what I said about sensory details, my dear. Every little bit counts, and might I say your scent is absolutely intoxicating.”

Abashment doesn’t get the chance to fully form as his tongue starts mapping out the folds of your centre, moving slowly as if he’s trying to memorize every bit of you. You keep your grip on his hair as pleasure flickers through your core like candlelight with each stroke of his skilled tongue.

“You taste even better than you look,” He notes, fingers curled around your hips as his thumbs spread you open, “Like the most succulent nectar the world could offer.”

His tongue runs over your clit just as languidly, eyes transfixed on your entrance between licks. He hums lowly between the unhurried laps of his tongue as he muses aloud, “It’s fascinating, how your juices flows from the petals of your delicate flower with each flick of my tongue. I swear, I could feast upon the absolute ambrosia that is your slick arousal for an eternity, and still never be satisfied.”

He licks more incessantly at your flaring heat, growing more and more desperate by the moment as he indulges in the addictive delicacy that is your core. You arch your back as he moves faster and faster, panting as that flame of pleasure burns with greater intensity with each passing moment, especially when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You feel him slowly ease two fingers past your entrance and thrust, shuddering from the vibrations as he remarks how tight you are right against your clit. You buck your hips as he slowly pumps his fingers inside you, letting out a whimper as his fingertips reach the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your excitement builds and builds, the coil of lust tightening in the pit of your stomach.

He stops right before you cum, his gaze gleaming with desperation as he tells you, “I can’t wait another second. I have to fuck you, and I have to fuck you now.”

Your back meets the cool wood of the desk as he frees his cock and slowly eases his way inside you, “I’d much rather have you like this, so I can see the entirety of your flawless form while I fuck you.”

You bite your lip as his sheer girth stretches you like no one else has before, gasping out a whimper as his length plunges deeper inside you than anyone you’ve ever had. He holds your face in his hands as you get used to the size of him, a humored rumble giving his voice a slight lilt, “I understand I require quite the adjustment. There’s no rush. But please, when I do fuck you into this desk, don’t hold back the splendid symphony of your sensual sonority. I want to hear everything.”

With a languid exhale you relax and nod to tell him to start, gripping his biceps as he starts thrusting into you. You press your fingertips against the toned muscle through the fabric of his shirt, panting out moans and whines of pleasure as his cock slides in and out of you. He grunts through clenched teeth, forehead hovering above yours as he mutters, “Oh fuck you feel amazing, with your velvet heat rippling around me. Fuck you’re so fucking tight.”

You can tell he’s losing his composure, his brilliantly constructed musings slowly giving way to more vulgar statements of carnal hunger. His brows knit above his closed eyes and he stops talking all together for the moment, lips parted to let out the most sensual, erotic sounds of pleasure you’ve ever heard. It’s absolutely melodic, the way his voice deepens and dances atop the waves of euphoria that course through you with each dive into your core, a rough grunt pitching the end of each groan. It’s enough to have your clit pulsing as he thrusts into you, and you grip onto him tighter as you lose yourself in the absolute bliss that overcomes you.

Grabbing your hip with one hand as he starts fucking you faster, his other hand bracing himself on the desk by your head. You hold onto him tighter as he rams you into the desk, your body jostled with each thrust, just as he intended. His groans start to take on a breathy quality, and you can hear him quickly getting overwhelmed. He opens his eyes long enough to tell you, “Damn, you look amazing like this, my dear. Look at you, writhing in pleasure beneath me, squeezing around me so fucking tightly.”

The sheer heat of the flame in his gaze flows through you, mingling with the searing bliss that pulses through your veins with each deep thrust. His words become more poetic once again, his hand coming off the desk to hold your face as he speaks, slowing his thrusts for the moment, “You look even better like this, lost to the throes of passion. No siren, no femme fatale, no goddess, holds a candle to the absolutely enchanting allure you possess.”

He stops talking and starts fucking you harder, making you cry out as he hits your sweet spot head on. His groans get rougher and rougher as he grips you hard enough to leave bruises, and you hear the desk creak as he slams into you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off the walls of the lecture hall, mingling with your shared moans of pure bliss. You all but scream and toss your head back at a particularly powerful rush of ecstasy, and he takes the opportunity to lean down and press searing kisses to your neck. You choke on a keen as he bites down on your sensitive spot, sending pleasure spiking through you and intertwining with the waves of fiery euphoria coursing through you with each thrust. You arch your back and wrap your arms around him, pulling him down against your chest as you cum, an explosion of ecstasy overtaking your entire body by surprise. Through the haze of your orgasm you faintly hear him growl your name as you clench around him, and you feel him thrust a few more times before he cums deep inside you in thick spurts of hot seed.

To say you’re confused is an understatement when you hear the scratch of pen on paper beside you. Panting, you look beside you to see that he’s not tired in the least bit. Instead he’s fervently writing, still buried deep inside you. Absently, you ask what the hell he’s doing. He doesn’t seem to hear you, so you repeat the question, and you have to wait a few moments more before he tells you.

“I’ve finally gotten inspiration after so long. Finally, thanks to you, there are words on the page again.” He kisses you, murmuring against your lips as he tells you, “I can’t let this be a one time thing. I must have you again. Please, my dear, please be my muse.”

You smile against his lips and return the kiss, telling him that it would seem that you already are.

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