Professor Sycamore Fic

X Reader

Sycamore was already on the bed, pinned down by the other man's weight, his strong arms holding down his hands as he kneeled down on the professor's stomach. Looking up, he could see those lustful (e/c) eyes from between the locks of (h/l) (h/c) hair, which seemed more beautiful in the low lighting. The man (what was his name again?) released his left hand and his fingers slowly went across his shirt before deftly undoing the buttons and tugging it off of him. Sycamore moaned slightly as he felt his right nipple being played with. Some rubbing and pinches later, he moves his hand lower and caresses the lithe body underneath him. He stops before he reaches the professor's belt, and moves back to sit between Sycamore's knees. Suddenly, the French male is lifted up into the other's lap and his back is touching the headboard of the bed. He looks up, confused, but he doesn't get the chance to say anything because the other man leans down and starts placing open mouthed kisses on his throat. He feels his tongue swirl around his Adam's apple and a small moan escapes him. The ravenette blushes as he tilts his head to the side and gives him more access and he wonders if he should stop him especially considering the fact that he can't seem to remember how he even met the man and - ooohhhhhh~ He forgets that train of thought as he feels a bite right where his shoulder connects to his neck, a chuckle being heard faintly (Did he moan out loud?) before he starts sucking and he briefly wonders if he's going to wake up tomorrow covered with bite marks and hickies. The man bites at the skin under the edge of his jawline before he leaves a hot wet stripe with his tongue and pushes into his mouth and fuuCKK this man's kisses should be a sin, but he can't seem to bring himself to care, not at this moment anyway. He kisses back, and he feels the other man wrap an arm around him, and he feels the strong biceps and triceps as he grabs onto the other male's upper arm for support. The man tastes every part of him, of that he's sure, and he pulls away when Sycamore meekly shakes him by the arm to tell him to pull back for air. The professor pants as he looks up again, and gazes at his eyes. They were gorgeous really. He couldn't describe them with just a single color because they would change in the lighting and with his mood. It was amazing, to be honest. He smirks at the French male in his lap and brings a (s/c) hand onto his chest, encouraging him to touch, and Sycamore wonders when did he have the time to take off his coat and shirt. His chest is well shaped, and he plays with a nipple, causing the man to gasp slightly. He slowly trails his fingers down to his abs, and he can feel the tensed skin on his sides as he continues down to the belt of his pants. He hesitates a bit, and looks up to see the man's reaction, only to be surprised at the heated gaze that's returned. The man's arms, which are wrapped around him for support, tighten their hold as the professor uses both his hands to undo the buckle and the pants. The other male puts him down so he's sitting on the bed again and grips the head board with one hand to steady himself as he raises himself onto his knees. Pulling the jeans down (He has no idea how the man hadn't taken them off earlier, especially considering how they must have been squeezing his erection so tightly.), the man groaned, and he's shocked by the size of it. (He probably doesn't get to go all the way with most women just because they wouldn't be able to fit it in. Men, on the other hand. . . .) He palms it through the underwear for a bit, before pulling it off as well. "I don't suppose you think you could suck me off?" He looked up again, and the man was wearing a teasing smirk as he looked down at him. His accent was barely there, but exactly remember which country it was from. Glancing at his length again, he looked up into those damningly beautiful eyes as he licks right at the slit on his head before taking the whole head into his mouth. He sees the man's (e/c) eyes widen and he swears under his breath in a language not too familiar to him as they close from the sensation. He bobs his head a few times, and manages to take in about half of him before the head nudges the back of his throat. He hears heavy breathing above him, and he wraps a hand around what he can't reach. He starts slow, careful not to choke himself with the size and gives slow motions to the base. He feels the man's left hand tug at his hair, not too hard, but just enough to feel it. He speeds it up a bit, and licks it from underneath to the tip and he feels the hand in his hair tense, almost as if he's trying to stop himself from doing something. (Is he trying to not thrust into my mouth?. . . .) He picks up the pace, already picking up a fast rhythm and a small moan is heard from the male above him. Sycamore hums, and he shouts in that same language from before as he fails to hold himself back and bucks into the French male's mouth. The professor is taken by surprise and nearly chokes as his length goes in just a bit deeper than before. He lets out a muffled yelp and pulls back enough to steady himself, and the man stills and massages his shoulder with his thumb. "Sorry about that, are you alright?" Sycamore nods, his hand covering his cheek and cradling his jawline. He feels strong hands on his face and thumbs massage his cheeks and he relaxes. A chaste kiss is placed on his lips and he opens his eyes (When did he close them?) and sees him pull away. He saw the man's worried expression and he wraps his arms around the other in a hug, and kisses him again, this time letting his tongue roam in the other male's mouth. It was faint before, but now he could clearly taste the hints of (flavor 1), (flavor 2) and a bit of (flavor 3) in his mouth. He pulls away, and the man smiles, genuinely smiles, before pulling him flush against his body. "Want to continue?" Sycamore smiles back at him and nods, before laying back down on the bed. "Second drawer in the night table." The man chuckles as he checks, and finds a bottle of lube, seemingly used only a couple of times before. "Guess you don't meet many people at the bar?" Sycamore spreads his legs so the man can sit between them, and lets out a dry laugh. "I don't usually go to bars. I drink at home, where I'm not bothered by the noise and the people there.""Oh, really now?""Yes, really. I don't even know how I ended up there tonight."A pause then."People might say it to be fate."Sycamore chuckled. "I'm not much of a believer of that kind of stuff."The man finished undoing the professor's belt and pulls his pants off and away. Sycamore moans softly as the other lightly squeezed him through his underwear before it also gets pulled off. He pops open the cap of the lube and drips a generous amount on his fingers, and spreads the lube evenly. The professor's length twitches at the thought of what's to come, and whimpers at the feeling of the other's finger softly poking at his entrance. The digit starts pushing in, and the French male closes his eyes as he groans at the discomfort. "Relax, it'll hurt less that way." He tries to calm down, and after a few breaths, his body relaxed. The finger slowly breaches the wall of muscle and starts with slow rhythmic movements. The professor feels the discomfort fade, replaced by faintly growing pleasure. Just as he was getting used to the finger, another one starts pushing in. He gasps, feeling it slide in faster than the first. He opens his eyes, and sees the man just as he bends down to place a quick kiss on the tip of his cock. Sycamore nearly bucks up to meet him, and looks back into those vibrant eyes as the man starts to scissor him. He shivers, the look in them is positively sinful. Soon enough, he's become used to the fingers inside him. Kisses trail along his inner thigh, distracting him from the third finger pushing in. The other male loosens him up a bit more before deciding that the professor was ready. He pulls out his fingers, earning a whine from the French male under him. Grabbing the lube again, he pours some more onto his hands and spreads it over his length. Sycamore looks at him expectantly and his cock twitches with excitement. "How do you want to do this?" The professor looks up at him and replies. "I want to see your face the entire time." The other man didn't seem to expect that answer, but seemed pleased either way as he smiles. "As you wish." With that reply, Sycamore is gently pushed back onto the pillows and the male moves closer. Suddenly, he remembers something. "Hey, you never told me your name, did you?" The man chuckles. "I suppose you're right. It must have slipped my mind somehow. My name is (y/n)." The French male smiles. "(y/n). I quite like that name." He smiles as well as he aligns himself and massages the other's inner thigh. "I'm going in." The professor knew his cock was going to be a tighter fit than his fingers, but he didn't expect such a drastic difference. He pushed in slowly, the head easing its way in. Just that alone had his hands shaking and gripping the sheets. Another two inches in, and he breathes out a shaky plea to wait. (y/n) stills, wipes his hand onto the mattress to wipe off excess lube and cards his fingers through the other man's hair. He sighed and closed his eyes as he relaxed, and nodded after a bit. (y/n) keeps going, though at a slower rate. He's biting his lip and his hand goes back to holding onto the blankets, seemingly trying to do everything to not lose control. Sycamore whimpers, breath shaky, as he passes by the 3/4 mark, and the other carefully leans down to press a kiss to the French male's lips. The professor responds immediately, parting his lips and letting him in. It's a gentle kiss, slow and sweet and even almost romantic. He massages his thigh again, hoping to distract him from the discomfort. The other male pushes his length in a bit, and when Sycamore doesn't show any signs of pain, he keeps going. They break away from the kiss, panting, and (y/n) pushes in the last bit. The professor moans loudly, his voice shaking and his body quivering. "It doesn't hurt, does it?" The French male shakes his head, red dusting his cheeks. "I might need a minute to adjust to you though." (y/n) chuckles, then nods. "Don't worry, I won't rush you." The French male shyly reaches up and starts running his hands over the other's chest and abdomen, eventually stopping at his heart. It kept a quick pace, beating hard to keep up with the taller male's body. (y/n) looks at him, bottom lip bleeding from biting them, and smiles. "Not used to affection?" (y/n) shook his head. "It's not that, it's just. . . I'm usually the one giving so much." The professor smiles, not expecting such an answer. "You really are sweet, aren't you. . ." A pause, where the French male presses a kiss on his chest, over his heart. "Speaking of affection. . ." (y/n) smirks and holds onto the other's hip with a hand. He gives a small roll of his hips, testing the waters. Sycamore moans loudly, gripping onto the other male's arm with a shaky hand. "That good, huh?" The professor replies with a breathless 'yes' and (y/n) gives another thrust, this time pulling the other's hips till they're flush against his own. The French male practically screams, gripping (y/n)'s arm with surprising strength. (y/n) leans down to kiss along his jaw, trailing down to his collarbone. The other whines softly, shifting slightly so he could hold onto the other male by his shoulders. (y/n) sets a steady pace, not wanting to hurt the professor by going too fast. He could hear the small gasps and swears the other was letting out, and he chuckles. "Seems like you haven't done this before?" Sycamore groans, then shakes his head. "The few times I've done it with men, I was on top." (y/n) chuckles, then gives a particularly strong thrust. "So this is the first time you're the bottom? Heh, how cute." The professor gasps, then tightens his grip. "I don't think cute is the right word." (y/n) just smirks as he kisses a spot on his neck, and bites down. He heard the whimper the man let out and changes his angle. "HAH~ There, right there!" The other male groans as he feels the other squeeze him as he moans out pleas for more. Sycamore whimpers as he continues pounding right into his prostate. (y/n) speeds up his pace and moans lightly as the professor's nails start digging into his shoulder blades. The French male starts meeting each thrust and (y/n) leans down to kiss him again, when the other leans up and meets him halfway. They pull away when the need to breathe becomes too strong, and Sycamore offhandedly hears the bed hitting the wall at this point, and he whimpers as his leaking member brushes against the other's (s/c) male's stomach. (y/n) looks into his eyes again, and wraps his hand around it. The professor lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a yelp before he tightens his grip to bring him closer. The other male matches the pace to his hips, and (y/n) could barely make out the pleas Sycamore let out. The French male could feel his orgasm approaching, and he whimpers out that he's close between choked out moans. His partner grunts out a reply of 'me too' as he feels the man adjust their positions and the new angle has him screaming from how deep (y/n)'s thrusts are. He can feel his nails digging into his shoulders, the way his muscles clench up from the pleasure, and his toes curl as his orgasm finally hits him. He nearly sobs out the other's name as his seed spills over both of their stomachs and chests. A few more thrusts has (y/n) climaxing as well, and Sycamore shudders and whimpers as he feels a warmth spill deep inside of him. (y/n) lowers him back on the mattress, slowly with shaking arms so as not to hurt him. Then, he lies down next to the French male and hugs him close as they come down from their orgasm. The professor feels his short pants on his neck and smiles. "That. . . was amazing." He hears the (s/c) male chuckle before he responds.
"You think so? I think I was a bit messy the way I went about it."
"What makes you say that?"
"I was drunk through half of it."
Sycamore snorts at his response, before outright laughing as he kept thinking about it. "I don't think you should be laughing, especially considering how you were having trouble walking straight." His words only seem to make him laugh harder though, so he simply massages his hip with the hand not holding him up. (y/n) smiles as his partner calms down and turns to look at him again. "I hope this doesn't sound rude, but I'm curious. Where are you from? I've never heard that language of yours before." (y/n)'s eyes widen slightly before he chuckles and says something in his native tongue with a smirk on his face. The professor looks confused, and the other male gives in. "I'm from (y/c), and lived there most of my life. But seriously, have you never met another (y/c)? Many people like to go touring to places." At the French male's shake of his head, he sighs. "Well, now you know at least." Sycamore snickers, and (y/n) flicks him lightly on his forehead. "Hey! Don't do that." (y/n) smiles and steals a kiss from him, but the man pulls him into another one when he tugs him back by his shoulder. After they separate, (y/n) lies down and hugs Sycamore from behind. The French male feels the man cuddling up to him, and suddenly starts to feel sleepy. He hears (y/n)'s breathing start to even out from behind him. His eyes slowly close, and he's out like a light.