Mystic Messenger Oneshots | x reader

Professor!V x reader | irresistable (lemon)

Title: Irresistible
Point of view: 2nd
Description: (lemon)
V is your professor and you two get up to some pretty naughty behavior.
. . .

You couldn't focus on your assignment—no matter how hard you tried to suppress your growing urges. Not even the pencil was safe; the evident teeth marks no doubt giving you away.

Your eyes would involuntarily wander up away from your paper settling on your professor's intoxicating mint blue eyes. His slender frame is sat at his desk, long leg crossed over the other, hands carefully linked together. You study the way his brows are furrowed, how his teeth rake against the bottom of his lip. He's wearing a well fitted black shirt along with a white tie—something that didn't help your growing tantalizing fantasies.

You observed his expressions well enough to discern what was going through his mind—or to a certain extent you could always get enough of a clue. You could, at least, tell his mind was definitely not focused on the document in front of him.

On the other hand however, your own mind was thinking about much different matters.

Perhaps the way his soft lips would feel against your neck, chest pressed against your back, long digits delving deep inside your core—

Riiiing!

The sound of the bell has your thoughts come to a screeching halt. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you shove your papers in your bag before getting up from your seat.

"(y/n)," your professor calls, beckoning you over to his desk with a single finger.

A hum escapes your lips as you turn on your heels. "Yes Mr. Kim?" a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth.

The rest of your classmates file out through the door, murmurs of jealousy audible. It isn't until the door is fully closed and locked that he stands from his seat. You counted yourself lucky that he had no classes after yours

"I couldn't help but notice you were struggling with the assignment today," the male clears his throat, shifting his tie. His considerably taller figure is now looming over your own—something that never failed to send your nerves into overdrive.

"Well I don't know, Professor, I just can't help it with all these thoughts stoping my concentration," you challenge, a playful gleam shining in your pupils.

V lifts your chin up with a finger—he knows exactly what you're playing at. He just can't help himself but to follow along.

His breath is fanning against your lips. "Oh?" he lets out a dry chuckle, "You want me to fuck you senseless over my desk again, don't you?" A whimper leaves your lips at his blunt proposal.

After last week, you were aching for his touch again. Just during class you could barely contain your throbbing need for him inside you. The coy man knew damn well what he was doing to you—how all these trysts only made you yearn for him more and more. You were undeniably wrapped around his finger.

"If we keep going at this I don't think I'll be able to contain myself around you any longer," his voice is low—husky.

"Then don't."

At your words V slams his lips onto yours, hands finding their way straight to your ass. He's cupping it all too fondly—not that you'd mind of course. His tongue works its way past your lips and into your mouth which earns a moan from you. He was more than talented with that tongue of his and knew exactly how to use it.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he sits you on his desk. V wastes no time in your unbuttoning your blouse, lips attacking your collarbone as your hands roam through his soft mint locks.

Chuckling, the male hikes your skirt up. "Someone's eager today," he teases, rubbing two fingers against your soaked panties.

"Mmm," is all you can manage to breathe out. You're desperate for something more—any kind of friction to ease your building desires.

"You're gonna have to beg for it," he's smirking, playing it cool. But you can tell from the gleam in his eyes that he's just as needy as you are.

"Please..." you're whining now, rubbing your thighs together to garner the friction you so desperately craved.

It seems to be all the male needs because his fingers are delving into you. Your mind is already going hazy—he's working your clit fast which means he's no longer playing around. Attempts to conceal your moans are diminishing by the second. How could it be possible that you were so close already?

V's fingers worked wonders...and you loved every second they were on you—in you. "F-fuck..." you gasp, chasing your oncoming climax.

So close...so—just as you're about to cum V removes his fingers. A sharp whimper leaves your lips at the sudden loss of his touch.

"Not yet," is all he says before bringing your lips back to his.

The rattle of his belt buckle sends heat rushing up back through your body. He's reaching over to open the drawer, grabbing a condom before shoving it back shut. With haste and seemingly no effort he's already slipped it on.

Another whine from you and he's pushing himself inside with ease. It's the reward you've been yearning for all this time. You relished in how every inch of him filled you up so gratifyingly; you could never get enough.

V's pace is fast—pumping in and out of you with vigor. Up until this point you had no idea just how much he was controlling himself. The man was always a tease but he too had his limits.

"Mmm—ah..."

"You feel so good," he breathes out, gripping your hips tightly.

The praise elicits another moan from you which in turn encourages the male to hasten his movements. Once more you feel yourself on the verge of release—and from the way V's thrusts are becoming more and more sloppy it's apparent that he, himself, is close as well. The increasing pitch of his groans gives that away.

"I'm close..." you cry out, arms wound tightly around his shoulders. You're bucking your hips in tune with his thrusts, desperate for release.

At your words V gives a final, drawn out thrust that at long last sends you both over the edge. Your body shakes against his as you ride out your high, his chest providing support for your head.

Even through the thin layer of his black shirt you can feel how much his heart is racing—evident by the way your head is rising and falling in sync with his chest. For a few minutes the entire room falls silent once more, save for the sounds of the pair of you catching your breaths.

"Mr. Kim—"

"How many times must I correct you?" He lifts your chin up, eyes meeting yours, "When we're alone you may call me Jihyun."