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spacequokka · 2 years

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RM1526: Calculus II

Pairing: professor!Changkyun x student!Reader Genre: College AU, Smut Rating: M Summary: “I don’t doubt that. However,” he held your wrists in one hand as he locked the only door to the classroom with the other, “I can’t risk someone walking in on me topless. Even in the name of art.” Word Count: 2.6k 🤬 drabble my ass Warnings: teacher/student relations, topless Kyun deserves a mention, marking, dirty talk, reader would do shots off his tats and it shows, choking, quick rough vaginal sex on a desk, one use of degradation, editing this at 3am with a mix of coffee and melatonin gummies in my system, mistakes were made

Inspired by this gif. Part one of my four entries for the Monsta X professor au series with @iibonniee who made the banner! If you love this, please shower her with love for me. This series is all her idea. I recommend That’s the Way Love Goes and Promise for reading.

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At this point, it was an obsession. It started as mild curiosity at first. Who wouldn’t want to know more about the pretty tattoo playing peek-a-boo on the sexy calculus teacher? It wasn’t as if you cared about the numbers and symbols on his whiteboard. But the way his forearm flexed as he flipped the marker between his fingers, slowly shifting his sleeve back to show the intricate ink was becoming its own religion. You only wanted to see it up close, maybe even ask who did it so you could go pay your respects.

But no.

“Hm, that’s too easy for you, Ms. ____.” Professor Im smiled and shook his head. “Come back to me when you get an A in my class.”

You were barely passing his class. Well, you were nothing if not determined when it came to stupid shit. You found a tutor and made it your life’s mission to master math Greek gibberish. By the end of the semester, you managed to get a fucking 92. It was time to collect your reward.

You had your grades printed off, hand slightly shaking as you stayed in your seat and waited for class to empty for the day. Did you need your phone? You should probably take a picture to show the artist if he tells you who did it. Ugh, but why wouldn’t they remember him or their work? Okay, maybe you wanted a souvenir for your hard work.

“You planning on sleeping here tonight?”

Your attention snapped to the professor where he stood behind his desk with his hands in his pockets. Today was his black turtleneck sweater day. You swallowed hard and got to your feet. “No!” You held up the paper as if he could see it from where he stood. You hopped down the stairs and came to a stop in front of his desk. “You said you’d show me your tattoo if I brought my grade up. I have an A now.”

His bored expression barely changed as he cocked an eyebrow at you. Oh, fuck. Did he forget? You didn’t think you needed to remind him along the way. Shit—

“I know what your grade is. Who else grades your work?” The tiniest smirk graced his lips before he took his hands out of his pockets. “Ah, now which one was it…” He looked between his arms then held one up. “I think it was this one.”

You sucked in air. “Wait, you have more than—”

He ignored you as he pushed back the fabric and revealed the holy grail. The flower was gorgeous, an intricate weave of lines that healed to perfection. You were drawn to it like a moth to his flame. He watched you come around his desk and even let you pull his arm closer for inspection. “You like ink that much, huh?”

“Sir, I happen to appreciate all forms of art,” you murmured as you traced the petals lightly with a fingertip. He shivered, but you ignored it, moving your focus to the shading of the stem and leaves. To his credit, he didn’t pull away.

He cleared his throat. “I got that impression over the past few months. You tend to stare whenever I roll my sleeves up.”

You felt your face flush as you froze and dropped his arm as if he’d burned you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmm.” He nodded. “Of course. Come on, time to go.” He gently pushed your shoulders, turning you towards the door.

“Oh, wait! Can I get a picture? I killed myself for this.” You reached for your phone. “I wanna get one done soon.”

“A picture?” He scoffed. “It’s not even the best tattoo I have.”

“It’s not?” You whirled around to face him. He was close, and it forced you to look up past his chin. “Can I see? Please? Please, lemme see it.”

His lips twitched as he looked away. “I dunno, Ms. _____. I’d have to take my sweater off.”

“I’m fine with that. I want to see it.” You reached for the hem of his sweater, but he caught your eager hands.

“I don’t doubt that. However,” he held your wrists in one hand as he locked the only door to the classroom with the other, “I can’t risk someone walking in on me topless. Even in the name of art.” The click of the lock echoed in the large room. “You can’t tell anyone I showed you either.”

Excitement buzzed in your veins like alcohol. “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.” You followed him back to his desk, where he gestured for you to stand in front of his chair. You obeyed his instruction. His large hands seized you by your waist and pressed you against the edge of the desk.

“You might want to be up here to see it properly,” he murmured. Well, he had a point. You pushed yourself up onto his desk without a second thought. He rewarded you with one of those rare true smiles. “Perfect.” He sat down in his chair.

“Does anyone else know about your tattoos?” You asked without taking your eyes off him. He shook his head as he pulled the slinky sweater up and off his body. Your brain instantly turned to mush upon seeing the various designs of ink on his chest and shoulders. His artist must have descended from Da Vinci himself. You made this weird squeaky noise that sounded like a mouse on helium breathing its last.

Professor Im ran a hand over his pecs, then stretched. “Okay,” he stood up and got mind-numbingly close, “be gentle with it. I get ticklish.”

You scoffed as he turned around. Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide and sparkly. You’d imagined all sorts of different designs on him. Something like this? Unthinkable, yet it suited him. Again, your hands moved on their own as you committed each detail of the three flowers to memory. “This is amazing,” you whispered.

“So is your touch,” he grunted. “Are you always this delicate with things you handle?”

Your cheeks heated up, and you bit your lip. “Would you like it if I poked harder?” You didn’t mean for it to sound that way, but once the words were out, you shrugged it off. A man with gorgeous skin and god-tier tattoos will do that to you.

What you didn’t see coming was his reaction. He stiffened for a second, as if even he couldn’t believe you’d be that bold. But then he backed up, all but shoving his back into your face. He gingerly brought his hands to your knees as if to steady himself as he perched his ass against the desk between your thighs. Did he think you wouldn’t lick his fucking tattoo right here? You honestly couldn’t tell if he was aware he was slowly driving you insane.

Two can play that game.

Keeping an eye on the side of his face, you splayed your hands out on his back and gently pressed your fingertips into his skin. His mouth opened a little. With a deep breath for confidence, you pressed your lips to one of the flowers wound around the blade going down his spine. The man jerked like you’d shocked him, but again he didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed your knees with a warning as he released a slow exhale. He might have mumbled something like “Don’t get fired, Kyun.”

You liked the idea of him fighting against doing whatever was going on in his head. You also liked playing with fire. “I’m surprised there are no scratches on your back.”

“Why would I—” He stopped when he caught on. “Ah. Well, it’s hard to scratch someone when you’re pinned down.”

The thought of being pinned underneath him, taking each stroke with his impossibly deep voice in your ear, was a heady one. You whimpered at the thought as your knees trembled with want. “Shit.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “You okay?” His concern was genuine, but it wasn’t like you could focus when he was massaging your legs. His hands were calloused and swallowed your calf muscles. You couldn’t help the way your mind immediately wondered what else on him was big.

“Yep.” You swallowed hard, trying and failing to push the horny thoughts away. “C-can I see the ones on your chest before I go?”

He made a noise somewhere between a hum and a moan before turning around without bothering to put distance between you. He arched his eyebrow, silently asking if it bothered you, but you were already reaching up to touch him.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he leaned into your touch. “Fuck,” he gasped, while his eyes fluttered shut. You tilted your head to the side, amazed at how he responded to every little thing you did. Your hands trailed from his chest to his neck. His eyes snapped open and focused on you with a look that made you sit up straighter. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his waist, barely aware of how you exposed your dirty thoughts and wants. Changkyun’s hands closed around your wrists and pulled you towards him as he leaned in close enough for your noses to touch. “You’re really testing my patience here.”

You felt the low rumble of his voice deep in your soul, your core, and knew if he asked you’d fuck him right then and there. “I’d never do that.” You pouted as you looked into his eyes and brought his hips closer. “I hate tests.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “Tell me you want this, _____.” He spoke against your lips. “No misunderstandings.”

You moaned softly as you threaded your fingers through the hair at his neck. “I want this, want you so bad—”

Changkyun didn’t even let you get the words out. He devoured your mouth with a kiss so hot and wet your panties were ruined in seconds. The way he paid attention to every detail, from your lips to your tongue and even the roof of your mouth, left you whimpering with want while struggling against his hold keeping you from touching him. And you wanted that more than anything. Just to feel his skin and the raised lines from his tattoos under your fingers while he shivered.

When he got tired of exploring your mouth and nudged your head aside to kiss your neck, you were able to voice your complaints. “Please,” you pulled against his hold, “let me touch you.”

He chuckled before nipping at your throat. “Greedy girl, you already have. It’s my turn.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from crying out when he bit you again, this time harder. “Please, just a little bit more.”

His kisses trailed back to your mouth. “Sound so pretty when you beg like that, but keep it down. I don’t want anyone else to hear what’s meant for me.” He gently bit your bottom lip and slowly let it go. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. He smirked and kissed you again as he laid you back on the desk.

“Can’t believe you’re a bad girl. On your professor’s desk spread out like this. Never would’ve thought.” His fingers caught the hem of your sundress and pushed the fabric up. Before you knew it, his fingers were exploring your pussy, caressing your folds, then parting them to dip a finger in. “Shit. I knew it. You’re gonna feel like heaven on my dick.”

Somehow, this kept getting better and better. Knowing he wanted to get inside you was all you needed to hear. “Oh, fuck yes.” You moaned quietly as you squirmed impatiently. He continued to tease you, sliding his finger in and out then adding another and finally a third. By the time he deemed you ready to take his dick, you were a mess, babbling as you rode his fingers chasing an orgasm he wasn’t willing to give just yet.

“Hands stay up here.” He pointed to the edge of the desk by your head. You grabbed it with both hands as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Then he pulled off some David Blaine bullshit by undoing his belt and pants with one hand while opening the condom then rolling it on. Any other time, you would have applauded him. He put one of your legs on his shoulders while stroking himself a few times. You felt him prod at your entrance, head teasing through your slick before rubbing circles around your clit. Biting the inside of your cheek was the only way to keep you from giving you both away. “So good for me…” he moaned as he pressed the tip inside.

You tightened your grip as your legs shook with each inch he fed you. By the time he was balls deep, both of you were sweating and shaking, whispering curses as you realized what feeling so fucking good meant for you two. Pussy so tight and wet. Dick thick and deep. This could never have been a one-time deal. Fuck. He squeezed the thigh on his chest and pressed a kiss to your knee.

“Gotta make this quick so I can get you somewhere softer, like my bed or couch.” He groaned as you clenched at his words.

“I’m not picky,” you said bringing your other leg to his hip and pulling him in deeper. “Backseat of your car will do.”

“Shit, I can see you making me pull over at least once.” He put his other arm under the leg on his hip and bent over, pushing your legs back towards your chest. “You’re sin with pretty eyes and a tempting smile.” He pulled out just enough to slam back in, immediately setting a fast and brutal pace. The angle was perfect, stimulating your clit while reaching deep enough for each stroke to brush that special spot that had you seeing stars. His lips came back to yours and he hushed you. Only then were you aware that your cries of pleasure were echoing. “Get me fired and you’ll be my cocksleeve until I find another job.”

“P-promise?” You smiled, happy when he grunted and nudged your head aside again and suckled a mark into your skin.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Spending every fucking minute stuffed with dick and screaming my name.” His strokes grew shorter as he put more strength into his thrusts. He let one of your legs go in favor of your throat, bringing your attention back to the flower on his forearm. His muscles flexed as he adjusted his grip to only apply pressure from the sides. “Look at you. You love being choked, too? You keep surprising me. Cum for me, baby. Cum so I can take you home and wear that pretty ass out.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. A few more rolls of his hips against yours, pelvis grinding on your clit, and you were gone. His arms moved to the sides of your head, hands gripping the desk alongside your own as he started pounding away. The poor desk tried to hold its ground but still ended up screeching as it scooted across the floor with his thrusts. Losing his footing threw off his concentration and within minutes he was moaning in your ear as he came.

When he stopped and rested his head on your shoulder, you brought your arms down and gently rubbed his back, giving him a little pat for a job well done. But he didn’t want that. He pushed up and pulled out, peeling the condom off and dropping it in the trash by his desk. He grabbed your hands and helped you sit up. “Let’s get out of here.”

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