#professor!gwilym

[illfoandillfie]

Here's the running masterlist of all the advent blurbs. I'll update this each day after the new fic has been posted and it'll stay pinned to the top of my blog. There's also the advent page (desktop only) which, if i've done it right, should update automatically so if the link isn't here, check there!

Full list is below the cut:

December 1: Lazy Sunday 2 (Roger)

December 2: Clone-A-Willy 3 (Ben)

December 3: Vegas Wedding (Javi Peña)

December 4: Secret Novelist (Gwilym)

December 5: Mommy Kink (Dom!Lucy)

December 6: Craft Store (Joel Miller)

December 7: Keep Quiet (Roger)

December 8: Sugar Daddy (Gwilym)

December 9: Bookshop (Ben)

December 10: Picking Up (Javi Peña)

December 11: Facial (Gwilym)

December 12: Home Late (Ben)

December 13: Lucky Drumsticks (Roger)

December 14: Friends to Lovers (Lucy)

December 15: Morning After Wedding (Ben)

December 16: Professor Outfit (Gwilym)

December 17: Hitachi Present (Roger)

December 18: Sexy Book Nerd (Jack Daniels/Agent Whisky)

December 19: Soft Sub Rich Asshole (Ben)

December 20: Arcade (Gwilym)

December 21: Stuck In A Lift (Roger)

December 22: Farmer AU (Jack Daniels/Agent Whisky)

December 23: First Time Dom (Lucy)

December 24: Sweatpants (Ben)

December 25: ADKoE POV Swap (Roger)

[margridarnauds]

Top 5 medieval texts/stories, perhaps, if you’re still doing those asks?

Thank you! I am always willing to take the opportunity to talk medieval texts. 

1. Cath Maige Tuired - Sometimes, if you’re lucky...you come across a text at the right time in your life, and it just manages to change everything. And that’s CMT with me. I’m never going to ask someone to understand why it’s important to me, but I feel like...it’s the sort of text that you can slowly digest over the years. The way I read it now is very different from the way I read it when I was 14 or 18, and I hope that, when I’m forty, I’m going to read it in a different way than I do now. I know that there’s a perception of me, both in the field and on here, that I’m a bit of a one trick pony who’s obsessed with this one text, but I’m kind of okay with that because I decided a long time ago that I would devote myself to it if I had the choice. (Also that I’ve blown a lot of that perception out of the water with my actual body of work.) It’s very human, it’s very much...a story that is taking place in a certain cultural context at a certain time, but there’s such a surprising richness in everything, all these little details that make it something you go back to. 

2. The Mabinogi -- Not just one of the best medieval texts of all time, but one of the best stories in general. Four branches, four interlinked narratives, telling separate stories that all intertwine and intersect with one another and that carry on similar themes and ideas. The dialogue is....it doesn’t always come across in English translations, but it sings. It’s lively and bright and meaningful, the pacing is perfection, with battle scenes often being written in long sentences jam-packed with action that give you a feeling for the immediacy of it. The characters are all so individual, so intelligently written, especially the women, who are arguably, in my own opinion, some of the best written female characters in the entirety of medieval Europe, and they get so much justice from the text. They might not all meet happy ends, but the text gets them, it understands them and cares for them and sympathizes with them and lets the reader sympathize with them. 

3. Beowulf - The first time I ever read Beowulf (not including the Wishbone story), I was about 19 years old, and I was an undergrad at a tech school, taking a class on Dangerous Journeys in Literature. Our instructor had, perhaps wisely, decided to only include selections from Beowulf as our required reading, knowing that this was a class mainly for STEM majors (I was the lone Humanities major in the class), and I dutifully read that. Then, the night before the final, I decided to reread the sections, this time using the Heaney translation (which, in my professor’s defense, was what she’d recommended us in the first place -- I was just cheap and used a Gutenberg edition.) And I would keep reading a little bit more past the required section, like “well, it isn’t all too long until the next section” “oh, there’s another section coming up soon, I might as well read on through to that” “oh, I’m almost halfway through, well, might as well finish it.” Like, I was up until about 2-3 AM just reading Beowulf, taking in this epic story. It still holds up, all these years later. 

4. Dafydd ap Gwilym’s Poetry -- It’s hard for me to choose, because I was also considering something like, say, the Prose Edda, but I really, really love Dafydd ap Gwilym’s poetry, ever since I did a paper on him a little while ago. He wrote a number of wonderful poems, many of which have been translated into English, and which are available on dafyddapgwilym.net, but my personal favorite is “Y Bardd a’r Brawd Llwyd”, where a friar castigates Dafydd for his occasionally stormy affair with the married Morfudd, which forms the basis for a LOT of Dafydd’s poetry, and Dafydd tells him: 

'Nid ydyw Duw mor greulon Ag y dywaid hen ddynion.” 

“God is not so merciless

As the old people say” 

“God is not so merciless as the old people say.” In the 14th century. That’s why I love Dafydd. 

5. Tochmarc Ailbhe -- This is a surprise, I know, given that I talk MORE about my work with, say, Lebor Gabála Érenn or the Dindshenchas on here, but, while I love them dearly, and while they’re very useful for my research...they’re almost things to be respected more than liked. Don’t get me wrong, they have some wonderful bits in there, but they’re so large, almost reference material more than anything else. Tochmarc Ailbhe, meanwhile, is a complete prose story, telling the story of Cormac’s other daughter, Ailbhe, who chooses to marry Fionn mac Cumhail after her sister, Gráinne, elopes with Diarmaid. And it’s a unique text for multiple reasons -- It contains a strong emphasis on paternal love and affection towards a daughter that is unusual in an Irish text, it has Ailbhe explicitly choose to marry Fionn for his age and experience, and, unlike Emer and Cú Chulainn’s sparring match in Tochmarc Emire, which is defined by its use of somewhat esoteric knowledge that would have been mostly confined to the learned class, Ailbhe and Fionn court via riddles that require quick thinking and skill more than aristocracy. 

[avaloncelsus]

Day 4 - Crossover

1- This is actually an OC that is an amalgamate of all asterisk bearers, heroes of light and Deneb and Gwilym, so 70 people. The basic premise is that after having lost to a foe who’s hellbent on destroying Luxendark, they used a dimension canon to escape to another world, except it had consequences on their bodies and they ended up fused. I’ve drawn them in several other worlds I put them in.

2- Ominas and Bahamut in Harry Potter. It’s basically Ominas being completely baffled (and despairing) at Wizarding Society. It starts with Bahamut catching Pettigrew in the third and Ominas becoming a professor of Dark Arts at Hogwarts.

3- Revenant in My Hero Academia. Revenant gets catapulted in that world and Aizawa becomes his chaperone and becoming a hero in training while he waits for his family to find him.

4- The main crossover is with Doctor Who but it’s also a multi crossover. Each character is a character from another franchise. Yoko is the main character and she is from our world where all the other universes are fictional. Khamer is The Doctor. Yulyana is the One from the last world in Bravely Default. 

5- Hetalia Countries. Those are OC’s of all the personifications of the countries of Luxendark.

[almightyellie]

Hello!! Idk if you're still writing for Gwilym, but is there any chance you might write more blurbs on Professor Lee?? I am in love with your writing <3

hey!! this is so sweet, thank you <3 i have a few blurbs kicking around my drafts that i’ll probably clean up and release as i find them!

[yelenasdog]

il un a visage gentil (prof!gwilym lee x prof! gn reader)

genre: fluff

summary: who knew the attractive english lit professor also happened to speak french? not his new coworker, that’s for sure.

words: 1.7k

warnings: reader embarassing herself a lil bit, that’s it :)

a/n: hi!! first of all, no pronouns are used as this is from readers pov, so anyone can read. second of all, so i typically don’t write for gwil, but i had this idea in french the other day when my french teacher (sweet old french man who deserves better LMAODSJO) was going over some assignment that for some reason had il un a visage gentil in it LOLOL. that being said, i obvi don’t speak fluent french and this is all fictional! love u, hope u enjoy!!

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

“Hello everyone, and welcome to your first day. I’m Dr Gwilym Lee, and I am the head of the English Literature Department here at Oxford University. Feel free to call me Gwil, it’s what all my students do.”

I slanted my eyes from my position at the door, gripping the frame just a tad tighter than I had been before hearing his voice. I continued to listen to the doctor talk as I made my way behind the last row of seats in the lecture room, trying not to make any noise. My heels were thankfully mute against the carpet, not drawing any attention towards me, the professor keeping complete focus on his students.

“One of the first things I wanted to kind of, um, touch on, is that I will be quite flexible. I understand that you have lives, as do I. As long as I can see an honest effort being put into my class, I will hold no repercussions for late work or being physically late to class.”

With that, he looked up to where I had just sat down, quirking a brow. The eye contact was momentary, only lasting what seemed to be a second, if that.

I cleared my throat, looking to my feet.

“We at the english department are quite proud of our status, ranking 4th in english programs overall in the UK. Now I won’t continue to bore you with the statistics, but-“

I made a scan of the room, seeing how only 1 or 2 pupils were actually listening, the rest either slumped over looking at their phones, or pretending to take notes on a laptop while really watching netflix. (More than one student was watching gossip girl, oddly enough.)

Considering it was only 5 minutes into the hour long lecture, I was confused, as he was holding my attention, at least, quite well.

After about 30 minutes, I realized that my own “first day lecture” was in 15 minutes, which assured that I most definitely had to leave. I was saddened by this (even though I had only even planned on staying in Gwil’s room for a small while.

I sighed quietly, picking myself up from the surprisingly comfortable seats and making my way towards the door. Just as I was about to go, I felt eyes boring holes into the back of my head. I turned, realizing Gwilym to be the perp. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, quickly walking out and down the hallway to my own room.

I made it in, hurrying down the many stairs, past where a few students were waiting.

“Hi, everyone, I’ll just be a few moments, just waiting for the rest of your new classmates to arrive.”

I smiled briefly, before slamming my office door audibly, chest heaving with my back against the shaded window. I closed my eyes, unaware of why I had been so panicked by the brief interaction, not to mention the butterflies it hatched in my stomach.

After giving myself some time to decompress, I exhaled, smoothing out the skirt of my dress and rotating. I placed a hand on the handle, preparing myself for the fresh faced freshman.

As I opened the door, I heard half a knock, before whoever was behind the door (poor soul) essentially fell on top of me.

Expecting to see a red faced pupil who had just made a very interesting first impression, I looked up, suddenly becoming the one with a warm and itchy wave of embarrassment making its way up my neck.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” He stood up, reaching out a hand. I hesitated before reaching forward and gripping tightly, allowing him to tug me up.

“It’s alright, Gwil, really.”

He opened his mouth (not that I was paying any mind to his lips), presumably to ask my name. Before he got the chance, I beat him to it, blurting out my full title, unfortunately in a quite awkward way.

The students that had gathered had mostly turned their attention elsewhere by now, only a few of them still watching the live disaster that was my interaction with the incredibly attractive man in front of me.

He spoke up as I tried to maneuver my way around him to the podium positioned in the front of the room where my laptop was waiting.

“Well, I had assumed you were a student who was trying to sneak off early, but I stand corrected, then.” He looked around my slowly filling space, a slight amusement hiding in his gaze.

“Yes, sorry, I had caught you at a bad time, I was hoping to introduce myself, you know, trying to make a good impression. Feels like the first day of school all over again.” I laughed, bringing a hand up to brush away a stray strand that had somehow managed to escape my bun.

“It’s alright, don’t stress about it. And trust me, I get it. New jobs are scary.”

I huffed, looking out at the sea of judgmental young people that I now would have to face after that fiasco. Lovely.

“You could say that again.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a short amount of time, the clock striking 2:30 being what woke me from my trance.

“That’s my queue.” I gave a small wave as he walked off, a smile spreading across his face at the motion.

I turned to my teaching assistant, fully believing he was out of earshot.

“Il un a visage gentil, eh?”

She only laughed, nodding her head and plugging in my macbook, allowing the screen to come alive with a flurry of colors in my powerpoint.

“Hi guys! Or should I say bonjour!” I paused, receiving a few chuckles in the crowd.

“I’m sorry for getting us started so late, I had a small mishap. I’m Dr Y/n Y/l/n, and I am your professor this year in the French undergraduate course, where you will have the opportunity to study medieval literature, modern day linguistics, and much more, which I will get into later on.

 We here at Oxford have the single largest French department in Britain, which we have come to have extreme pride in. We also have a french cultural center, where you will find a large selection of programmes and literature to choose from. If you haven’t yet checked it out yet,” I briefly looked up, seeing Gwilym still stood at the top of the stairs. He gave me another small smile, crossing his arms.

“Sorry, lost my place. Where was I?”

-

After class, I walked up to where the tall man had now moved to the side, allowing students to flood right by him.

“Gwil, hi!”

“Hi to yourself.”

I blushed, the feeling of fuzzy-ness once again flooding my entire system at just the brief statement. Odd. Extremely odd.

“That was very nice, I have a feeling this class will be quite popular in the coming years.”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Thank you, I appreciate it, truly. Although, I must say that I can tell everyone is racing to get a spot in Professor Gwilym Lee’s class 100% percent.”

He cocked his head, slimming his eyes.

“Really, you think so?”

We continued to walk down the long hallway, neither of us quite aware of where we happened to be going.

“Oh for sure, I can imagine you’re especially popular with a certain demographic, too.”

His confusion seemed to only grow, stormy blue eyes seemingly lost.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” His voice slightly raised an octave at the end, earning a chuckle from me.

“Look, all I’m saying is that with looks like that, I bet your roster was full in seconds.”

I paused, the flow of conversation stopping as I came to terms with what I had just accidentally said. Out loud. In front of my new coworker, who happens to be incredibly gorgeous. A wonderful first day I’m having.

We resumed walking, a blanket of complete silence falling upon us all the way until we reached the entrance to the facility.

The chilly December air hit my face immediately, as well as droplets of rain that were falling so hard it felt like small bullets were grazing my nose, which I could barely feel after just a few moments outside.

“Here.” Gwil muttered, pulling out a bright red umbrella and using it to shield us both from the angry pellets sent from above.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Then it was quiet again between us both, minus the sounds of chattering students and the rain hitting and then sliding off of our cover, coming in contact with the ground with a final splat.

“You know,” Gwilym began, always the one to break the silence.

I hummed, turning my head in his direction.

“I speak a little bit of French, as well. And I think you also have a nice face.” He nudged my elbow and laughed, while I closed my eyes and sighed, hanging my head.

“So there really isn’t any other way I could possibly embarrass myself right now, is there?”

He only shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, now that I think of it, there might be one more thing I can think of?”

“What would that be?”

“Saying no to a cup of coffee?”

It was like I froze over completely, my mind suddenly growing blank when I needed it mostt.

“With me?” I asked, the question more aimed towards myself, a miniscule act of reassurance and affirmation.

Gwilym smiled brightly as he shook his head, and I swear, I had never seen anything more amazing.

“Yes, Y/n, with you.”

I stuttered, embarrassed for what seemed like the millionth time that day, specifically at my lack of verbal skills.

“Yes, yes of course, that sounds amazing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He offered me an arm which I gladly took, and we started walking to the quaint campus cafe just across the street from our building.

It was the same cafe where (not that we knew it yet) the both of us would make many late night coffee runs together during midterms week, the stressful time growing to become one of our favorites as it was now filled with giggles and caffeine. 

Usually it would end up with one of us, that one of us usually being me, leaving a ring of coffee on the other’s ungraded assignments. Or even better, spilling an entire drink on the paper, only a “sorry!” written in Gwil’s rushed handwriting at the top of the curiously scented paper as explanation.

But as I said, we didn’t know that yet.

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

kinda gross but whatevs, like and rb if u did indeed enjoy it. mwah, go eat some protein, take an electronics break and drink some water. love u 

xx hj

[yuyungi]

Could you do a professor gwilym lee moodboard please???

Here you go!!

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

Professor Lee

What do you think he’d teach?

All moodboards tag: @festive-jon-moxx

Professor series tag: @doctorqueensanatomy

[what-wicked-delights]

Wanted to try and make a moodboard about professor!Gwilym Lee.

Not great but now there is more gwil soooo.....please dont hate me, thnx 🥰

[innuendostyles]

nando's & chill

!!! nandos is a very well known uk chain restaurant incase you didn’t know :)

“come on love, one more page and then i’ll take you out for dinner” gwilym said, running his hand over your cheek.

“i can’t gwil. i need to finish this.” you whispered, genuinely feeling like you could hardly breathe. you shouldn’t have left all the work til the last minute and you knew that, but somehow it still happened.

“this last page and then come for some food. that’s all, sweetheart. you can go back to it when we come back!” gwil offered.

you closed your eyes to try and relieve your headache and sighed.

“gwil, theres... so much to do. i’ve not got time.” you complained. you removed his hand from your cheek and set it in your lap, fiddling with his fingers.

“you haven’t eaten since last night, y/n.” he scolded, using his other hand to cradle the one you were holding.

“i know.” you gave a weak laugh, the energy from a granola bar last night not really giving you what you needed.

“half an hour in here.” he said as he stood up, gestering to the pile of work that surrounded the desk you were hunched at.

“half an hour, then you’re getting changed and coming with me. right?” he said, more of a statement than a question.

you nodded your head and moved forward to kiss his cheek.

“30 minutes, y/n.” he quipped his brow and you chuckled. he left the room and you got straight back to it.

you finished the entire piece of writing you had to do for your class in 25 minutes, even managing to go back and change some of the weaker words you’d used in your panicked frenzy.

you felt so good. relieved. happy. content, even! you heard gwil knock on the door and a smile appeared on your face as he walked in.

“finished it.” you said.

“knew you would, cariad.” he replied.

you closed your laptop after saving your work, scooping up all the piles of paper on your desk and putting them into the correct files in the folders gwilym had bought for you.

once your room looked decent, you took a moment to look at gwil and suddenly you were hit with a wave of emotion. you smiled at him and touched his stubbly cheek with your hand.

“nandos?” he asked and you nodded happily.

you changed from your lounging clothes into some jeans and a hoodie of gwilym’s. somehow it still looked stylish.

you took your phone off charge and put it in your bag along with some money and other stuff you had in there.

you and gwil set off in the taxi, your head resting on gwilyms shoulder the entire time. one of your friends asked if you wanted to go to town tonight, to which you simply replied the “😴” emoji.

gwilym just chuckled as you put your phone back in your bag.

you sat down in a booth of the restaurant, ordering your food to share with gwilym.

you reached your hands over the table to where gwilym sat, joining your hands in his.

“i love you.” you stated.

“i love you too, baby.” he smiled back at you.

you squeezed his hands and gave him a love-sick smile, unable to process just how much you loved this man.

[the-claire-bitch-project]

Office Hours - G.L.

Summary: An evening encounter after class with the professor turns into...a little more than Cecilia originally expected.

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x OC

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Age difference. oral (female recieving), vaginal penetration, praise kink, biting

A/N: Anyone who knows me knows I don’t usually write relationships I deem “inappropriate” (i.e. imbalanced power dynamics) so I did my best to put them on an equal level even though there’s an age difference and one is a professor and one is a student. Also, it’s a new fandom I’m writing for so... we’ll see how that goes. AND I DO NOT CONDONE HAVING SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSORS!

Moodboard, as always, by the lovely @heavenly---holland

Cecilia trudged into the lecture hall, finally breaking free of the line of other students to walk directly across the front of the room, cutting behind the professor’s podium and finding a seat in the middle of one of the middle rows, right in front of the boy with the skateboard. It was unsurprising in a History of Rock Music class that nearly every student had headphones in as they waited for class to start. As always, Cecilia was listening to Queen. “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy” streamed into her ears, different in each one as nearly all Queen songs were.

She threw her leather jacket over the back and plopped into one of the many rickety seats in the old lecture hall on the fourth floor of the stadium. Before this class she hadn’t even known there were classrooms in the stadium, but here she was, pulling out her laptop and opening it on the tiny desk she flipped out from the arm of the chair she sat in. She slouched down, pulling her hood over her curls, and putting one foot up on the back of the empty seat in front of her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make friends in the class. From the energy she was giving off, it was guaranteed nobody would sit near her. It was more that she genuinely wanted to pay attention in the class and didn’t want to be distracted. But it wasn’t a hardship to pay attention. Not with how attractive the professor was. Honestly, she didn’t remember his name and they were quite a few weeks into class and at this point she didn’t care enough to ask or look it up, but he sure was pretty, and lectured with a passion about the subject she rarely got from her professors.

After opening and setting up her Google Doc for the day, she finally looked up at the screen and immediately tore her headphones out of her ears. The professor usually played songs before class and today he was playing “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Cecilia quickly opened a new tab, found the syllabus and sighed. He actually hadn’t scheduled past the British Invasion of the 60s, but she guessed since that had been covered that they were moving into the 70s and covering Queen. Fucking finally.

She put her feet flat on the ground and sat up as the professor--she glanced at his name on the syllabus she still had open, Gwilym Lee--as Professor Lee cut the music and patiently waited for everyone to quiet down. As always, he spoke quickly and quietly. To get every detail one had to take diligent notes.

“Today, ‘We Will Rock You’ is one of the most popular songs played in the NHL, NFL, and MLB,” Professor Lee was saying. Cecilia snorted. Too loudly. Professor Lee stopped. “Something to add?”

“I just think it’s interesting that straight culture has adopted that song for sporting events when it’s clearly a gay song,” she scoffed, putting her foot back up on the chair in front of her and crossing her arms. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but when I hear that song, I hear gay pride, I hear the Stonewall Riots.” She sang, “Buddy you’re a young man, hard man, shouting in the street, gonna take on the world some day, you’ve got blood on your face, you big disgrace, waving your banner all over the place.” She spat the words “blood” and “disgrace.”

Professor Lee crossed his arms. “I don’t disagree with you, however, I would like to point out the song was written by Brian May, who--”

“Isn’t gay?” Cecilia finished with a raised eyebrow. Professor Lee nodded. “Well as we all know, it’s totally impossible for a person to write a song about something they’ve never experienced,” Cecilia scoffed. “Brian May wrote “‘39” about time travel and I highly doubt he’s experienced that. His best friend was bisexual for fuck’s sake. Is it that much of a stretch that he didn’t write the lyrics to honor Freddie’s struggle? We know Brian came up with the iconic stomp-stomp-clap rhythm, but is it impossible that Freddie may have contributed to the writing of the lyrics?” Cecilia didn’t even pause as Professor Lee opened his mouth to try to cut her off. “You’ve just been saying that Queen was a highly collaborative band and although are often credited as solo songwriters, frequently made rewrites and worked on songs together.”

Professor Lee was silent for nearly twenty seconds as Cecilia breathed after her rant, having gotten nearly to the point of shouting a few times. Finally he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Cecilia.”

“I’d like to continue this discussion in office hours after class,” he smiled. “Since I so clearly have a lot to learn from you, however, I would prefer not to waste anymore of your classmates’ time. We have a lot to cover today.”

Cecilia went bright red and looked down. She met his eyes again and nodded, feeling her cheeks burn hot under his stare. As he went back to talking, she opened up the syllabus again and noted the location of his office. Office hours were always right after class. She’d never been before since class ended at five pm and she was usually ready to go home, take off her pants, and pour a glass of wine.

So when the lecture was over, Cecilia put away her laptop and stood up to shrug her leather jacket on, pulling her hair and her hoodie out from under it. As she turned to go, she felt someone tap her shoulder.

“Hey, I liked what you said in class.” It was the boy with the skateboard.

“Thanks,” she nodded, slowly walking along the row. He met her in the aisle.

“Do you have a snapchat?” he asked, a faint blush on his cheeks. Cecilia smiled. She pulled out her phone so he could scan her snapchat code. “Cool, see you around.” He sped off.

Cecilia looked over to the podium to see people lining up to talk to Professor Lee. She could probably take her time making her way over to his office, so she waited for the elevator instead of racing down the stairs, and paused outside to find the perfect song to walk to. “Another One Bites The Dust” had the best beat for walking.

For a moment, she considered getting right on the bus and going home, but she forced herself to walk past the bus stop and trudge up the hill to the music building. It put her even further from her apartment and the bottle of wine waiting for her, but something about the way he’d looked at her made her want to go see him.

She bit her lip. It was completely inappropriate to be attracted to her professor, but what was the harm in indulging in a fantasy or two as she waited outside his locked office, pretending to text on her phone but really thinking about the way his arms looked in his button down with the rolled up sleeves.

“Sorry to make you wait.”

Cecilia looked up from where she’d sunk to the ground against the wall to see Professor Lee. He towered over her. She quickly scrambled to her feet, keeping as close to the wall as she could with her backpack on while he unlocked the door. She’d never been this close to him. He always seemed small and far away when he lectured, but up close, he made her feel small.

“I wasn’t here long,” she said softly as he held the door open for her, and she had to squeeze by him to get inside.

When she’d gone to office hours for other classes, it was always with classes taught by a grad student, and they usually only had a cubicle they shared with other instructors. This was the office of a professor, with shelves filled with worn books, diplomas decorating the walls, and a couch shoved up against one side of the room.

“Wow,” she murmured, not catching his smile as he watched her drop her backpack on one corner of the couch. “Goals.”

“Perks of being one of the only professors of ethnomusicology on campus.” He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets as he leaned on one arm of the couch as Cecilia read each of his diplomas in detail.

“Maybe I should change my major,” she murmured.

“From what?”

“Journalism.” She turned to look at him, her face lighting up. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw the way he was looking at her, regarding her. She swallowed and pushed her hair to one side, then the other, trying to stop her curls from sticking to her neck.

“You can hang your jacket up,” he offered.

“Am I staying long?” she asked as she shrugged her jacket off and threw it over her backpack. He rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and picking up her jacket and backpack, hanging them on a coat rack by the door she’d missed completely. “As long as you want,” he said. “Office hours are your time, not mine.”

“I never really go to office hours,” she admitted sheepishly, unsure of where to stand. She didn’t want to sit on the couch next to him, not wanting to give him the wrong idea, or let him on to the fact that she found him incredibly attractive.

“I rarely have students show up,” he laughed. Cecilia wanted to pace, but forced her feet to stay in one place.

“Oh, so what do you usually do then?” She didn’t mean for her voice to come out like that, low, almost seductive. It just happened. She chewed on her lip anxiously.

“Usually I end up having a drink,” Professor Lee laughed. She liked his laugh. He never really smiled in class, but here, he smiled a lot.

“Funny,” she giggled, “I was just lamenting that I had to put off my bottle of wine to come over here.”

He crossed his arms and tilted his head quizzically. “How old are you?”

Cecilia paused, weighing the consequences of admitting her real age and that she was a fifth year college student. “Twenty-three.” She decided to tell the truth. “Would you have ID’d me if you were a bartender?”

“A smart bartender ID’s everyone,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m neither a bartender, nor am I smart, so, would you like to have a drink with me?” He walked over to the cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Okay,” Cecilia swallowed, “do you usually offer drinks to students?”

“I don’t usually have students come to office hours on a Friday evening.”

“Then why’d you ask me to come, Professor Lee?” she shot back, hoping to feel more in control of how warm she felt, to distance herself from him again.

“You can literally just call me Gwilym, or Gwil,” he said gently as he handed her a glass, the shot of amber liquid swirling around the bottom and his hand warm against hers. “I never liked being called ‘Professor.’ Maybe when I’m older I will.”

A wave of curiosity washed over Cecilia. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-five,” he answered, sipping from his own glass, his other hand shoved into his pocket as he leaned on the arm of the couch. Cecilia stood in front of his desk, momentarily feeling as if she were the one with the power in the room.

She did some math in her head. Her mom had always used a formula to determine if someone was too old for someone else. Thirty-five divided by two was about seventeen, plus seven was twenty-four. Damn. Just under the cut.

“How did you learn so much about rock music?” Gwilym asked quietly. Cecilia sipped the whiskey, letting it burn down her throat and numb her lips.

“My mom mostly,” she shrugged, “but my dad too. They got me interested in the music just by playing everything they grew up with.” She chuckled, “I laughed when you warned us that the playlist for the class was long, since it’s only half as long as my personal collection of classic rock.”

Gwilym raised an eyebrow, “oh really?” He stood up straighter. “Can I see what you’ve got on it?”

“Yeah,” Cecilia nodded and took another gulp of whiskey, trying to finish it so she could feel its effects without the taste lingering too long. She reached for her phone in her back pocket and Gwilym stood up to move in front of her, setting his empty glass down on the desk next to her. She shivered, feeling heat radiating in the small distance between them. She tried not to let her hands shake as he watched her look through her Spotify, scrolling past playlists with embarrassing names like Horny With Dark and Religious Overtones, Boybands and Girlbands, and Songs That Got Gayer As I Got Gayer.

Finally she found the one she was looking for: Dadrock O’Clock. Gwilym took her phone, it looked small in his hands, and he didn’t move away from her. Her eyes moved from his eyes, down past his lips, and she swallowed as she stared at his neck. All she’d have to do was lean forward and she could kiss that neck. She bit her lip, trying to keep it together as her stomach grew tight.

But then he shifted. He didn’t look up or even acknowledge that he did it, but he pushed his glass away and slipped his fingers into her belt loop. Her stomach flipped. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and forced herself to relax, sipping on her whiskey again and leaning into his touch as his thumb slipped under her sweatshirt to press against the skin of her hip.

“You like Fleetwood Mac, huh?” Gwilym’s voice snapped Cecilia out of his stupor and she looked up.

“Uh, yeah,” she stammered. “They’re, uh, they’re my favorite band.”

“Yeah?” he grinned, “what’s your favorite song?”

“Thunder only happens when it’s raining,” she sang in a near whisper, then louder, “players only love you when they’re playing.”

“’Dreams’, huh?” Gwilym chuckled. “You’re a Stevie girl.”

“I was really disappointed you didn’t put them on your playlist for the class,” Cecilia whispered.

“I didn’t put your song on it either,” he set her phone face down on the desk and shifted in front of her. “Wish I had.”

“My-- my song?” Cecilia stutterd. He put one foot between hers, his legs pressed against hers.

“Oh Cecilia, you’re breakin’ my heart, you’re shakin’ my confidence daily.” She’d heard him sing in class but this was so much better, standing in front of him, him singing her name, his hand on her hip, his other fingers fiddling with the zipper of her hoodie.

She smiled and sang another lyric, “Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia, up in my bedroom.” She laughed. “Doesn’t Cecilia cheat on him in that song?”

“Yep,” Gwilym chewed on his lip, seeming incredibly focused on her zipper. Her chest heaved and she didn’t stop him as he inched it downwards. “You gonna find someone else when I get up to wash my face?”

She couldn’t believe the next words out of her mouth, “Are we making love in the afternoon?”

This time Gwilym sucked in a breath through his teeth. He almost had her zipper unzipped, revealing the cropped tank top she wore underneath, her hard nipples, and the bare skin of her stomach.

“Only if you want to,” he whispered. Cecilia reached for her glass again and downed the rest of her whiskey. Then she met his eyes.

“I want to.”

His hands left her hip and the zipper, her sweatshirt hanging open as he moved between her thighs, reaching up to gently cup her jaw in his hands. He tilted her head back and she looked up at him before letting her eyes flutter shut as he leaned down to kiss her.

Cecilia had never been kissed like that before, by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. It almost made her nervous that he’d think she was inexperienced, even though that was by no means the case. It’s just that her experience was with drunken frat boys and Tinder hookups. Gwilym was an adult, like, a real adult. A man who knew exactly how to slip his fingers into her curls at the back of her neck and close them into a fist to tilt her head back and make her moan. His free hand snaked down her neck to work on the buttons going down the front of her tank top, swiftly popping them open one-handed and leaving her chest bare in front of him.

Cecilia slid her hands off his shoulders and broke the kiss, leaning back on his desk, arching her back and pressing up into his hands, gasping a little when he tugged on her nipples before pushing her sweatshirt and tank top back off her shoulders.

Impatient to escalate the situation, Cecilia kicked off her boots and wrapped her long legs around his waist, grinding against him as she pulled his lips to hers again, feeling satisfied that he was already aroused.

“Slow down,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek and holding her hips still. “There’s no need to hurry.”

Cecilia went red. She was so used to getting it on in loud frat houses or apartments where roommates could suddenly come home. Back in high school it was being quick while parents were out of the house.

“Sorry,” she muttered, looking away as he nibbled her ear.

“What are you sorry for?” His breath was hot against her neck. She fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt, unable to keep her hands still, finally reaching down to untuck his shirt. He gently took her hands and held them between their chests. “Hey,” he leaned down to meet her eyes, “what’s up? Tell me.”

“I--” she sighed, “I’m worried that you’re going to be disappointed.”

Gwilym laughed and kissed her nose. “That’s cute.” Cecilia went red.

“Oh, I--”

“I think it’s so funny that women are always worried about whether their partner is happy,” he said. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Then don’t worry about me,” Gwilym insisted. “I will be happy regardless.” He leaned forward, his beard rough against her cheek as he whispered in her ear, “okay?”

“Okay,” she answered, tilting her head back to give him access to her neck. His tongue was hot and wet as he ghosted his mouth across her sensitive skin, goosebumps appearing in his wake. She reached one hand up to tangle it in his hair, eliciting a low growl from his throat as she tugged on it, and he bit down the thin skin over her clavicle.

“Mm, sorry,” he murmured, gently soothing the spot with a kiss.

Cecilia laughed. “You said that like I’ve never been given a hickey before.” Gwilym stopped, his hands resting on her thighs.

“I just--” he chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve given or received a hickey in years.”

“Do you want one?”

Gwilym’s fingers stopped drumming on her thighs. “Do I want--” Cecilia cut him off by pressing her lips against the side of his neck, just under his jaw.

“Right here,” she murmured, “where everyone can see?”

“Fuck,” he cursed. “Yes,” he groaned as her teeth brushed his neck and she bit down gently, sucking an angry bruise into his skin that would last at least until Monday. He tangled his hand in her hair again, yanking her back up to kiss her, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

She pulled away giggling, “Now who’s rushing?”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed and kissed her again. She  reached for the buttons on his shirt and quickly worked through them. She smoothed her hands over his chest, pulling back to stare.

“What?”

“I just,” she paused, “um--”

“Tell me!” he chuckled.

“None of my partners have ever had chest hair.”

Gwilym’s chuckle turned into a laugh and he reached up to rub his face. “Wasn’t the beard that scared you but the chest hair, huh?”

“The beard doesn’t scare me,” Cecilia explained. “Every frat guy has a beard.”

“But you like it?” She detected just a slight hint of insecurity in his voice.

“Oh yeah,” she assured him. “I have had the ‘Is chest hair sexy?’ argument so many times. I am very much pro-chest hair.”

Gwilym paused as he twirled one of her curls around his finger. “Wait, that’s an argument?”

“Yes. Did you not have dumb arguments in college?”

He tilted his head to the side, thinking. “Yeah I guess we did. It was a long time ago.” Cecilia looped her arms around his neck, directing his attention back to her.

“When was the last time you had sex like this?” she sighed.

“Like this?”

“Like, spontaneously, on a table, in your office--” she trailed off.

“Spontaneously would have to be a few weeks ago,” he started. “On a table would have to be grad school? Maybe?” He said it like a question, like he wasn’t sure. “And I’ve never had sex in my office.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Then you’re being very naughty,” she teased. He rolled his eyes and tickled her thighs, making her jump back, but he quickly grabbed her legs and pulled her back to the edge of the table..

“Mmhm,” he hummed in agreement, leaning forward to kiss her again as he reached for her belt. “About to get even naughtier,” he promised, getting past her belt and unbuttoning her pants. She raised her hips so he could pull her jeans down, then straightened her legs so he could yank them off, the belt buckle clinking against the floor where he dropped them.

He slid his hand up and down one of her thighs, his other reaching down her calf and wrapping her leg around his waist. She was thankful she’d worn nice panties, but also kind of annoyed, because she could feel that she’d soaked through them.

“You ruined my favorite panties,” she accused.

“Did I?” he smirked. “Can I confirm that?” His hand trailed up the inside of her thigh, fingers dancing over the crisscrossing stretch marks.

Cecilia bit her lip and nodded. “Please,” she whimpered as his fingers traced just below the hem of her panties. “Please touch me.”

Gwilym didn’t have to be told twice. He slipped his long fingers into the side of her underwear. Cecilia’s head lolled back as his knuckles brushed against her soaked core, spreading her arousal over her folds, and he studied her face carefully, looking for any micro expression that would indicate that he was hurting her or she wasn’t enjoying herself. When he didn’t see anything but pleasure, he pulled his hand away and tugged her panties down her legs, shoving them in his pocket..

Instinctively, Cecelia squeezed her legs shut against the rush of cold air, but Gwilym pried her knees apart, looking up at her as he slowly sank to his knees in front of her.

“Oh fuck,” she murmured.

“What?” He kissed the inside of her thigh, close to her knee.

“I’ve always wanted a taller, older man to drop to his knees in front of me without me asking,” she admitted. He made his way up the inside of her thigh, slowly, inching closer. He didn’t answer, just nibbled gently on her skin.

Finally, finally, he pressed his tongue against her core and she involuntarily squeezed her legs closed, feeling his beard scratch her skin as he slowly shook his head, giving her a taste of the friction she wanted.

“Fu--fuck,” she muttered, reaching down to grip his hair as he pushed his tongue inside her, his nose rubbing against her clit. He gripped her thighs, digging his fingers into her skin as her muscles tensed and relaxed with every pass of his mouth across her clit. “Gwilym, fuck,” she paused, “fuck.”

“Mmhm,” he murmured, the vibrations travelling all the way up her spine.

“Your f--fingers,” she finally managed to gasp. “I want your fingers.”

He pulled away and looked up at her, his lips glistening with her arousal. “Where do you want my fingers, baby?”

“I want them inside me,” she pleaded. “Please.”

Gwilym’s fingers tapped along the inside of her thigh, inching closer the way he had with his mouth before. Slowly, without looking away from her eyes, he slipped his middle finger inside her, feeling her relax, with a sigh of pleasure falling from her lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, just to make sure.

“Mmhm,” she murmured, reaching up to palm her breast. “Put your mouth back to work too.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled, leaning forward again as he added his index finger to the mix. He worked quickly, paying attention to details like which whimpers were pleasure and which were sensitivity, noticing when she clenched around his fingers.

Cecilia hadn’t had someone actually make her orgasm in ages, and she was desperate to get off, rocking her hips, grinding against his face, looking for more friction. He hummed when she dug her fingers into his hair and moaned, squeezing her thighs around his head. When he curled his fingers inside her, she bit her lip to keep from crying out, but an embarrassingly loud whine escaped anyway as she came all over his fingers, her heels knocking against his back as her legs shook. He pulled his head away immediately, not wanting to overstimulate her, and licked his lips as he let his fingers linger inside her, before pulling them out with a sickening squelch.

“Wow,” Cecilia whispered as she leaned back on her elbows to watch him lick his fingers. “That was, wow.”

“That good huh?”

“It’s been awhile since anyone but my vibrator has done it for me,” she admitted, looking away.

Gwilym stood up and caught her chin in his hand. “Hey,” he forced her to look at him, “you shouldn’t have sex with people who don’t make you feel good. Your pleasure is important.”

Cecelia tore her chin out of his hand, pushing him back and hopping off his desk, feeling small now that she was standing barefoot and half-naked in front of him. She reached up and removed the rest of her clothing, dropping it to the floor, smiling when she watched him scan her body and swallow. She reached up and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. Neither of them broke eye contact as it fell to the ground.

Cecilia spoke first. “Do you keep condoms in here?” she asked.

Gwilym thought for a second, then laughed. “Nope,” he shook his head, “never needed them.”

“I keep some in my backpack,” Cecilia admitted. She walked over to her backpack and unzipped the second pocket, reaching in and coming up triumphantly with a foil packet.

“Your backpack?” Gwilym teased as she walked back over. He put his hands on her hips as she leaned up to kiss him. “You hook up with your professors often?” he mumbled.

“No,” she pulled away and smacked his chest. “Sometimes study sessions turn into something else!”

“I’m teasing you!” He reached down and squeezed her ass playfully. “Lighten up.”

“Mm, well,” Cecilia traced his collarbone with her finger, “if this isn’t the best sex of your life maybe you’ll do something to my grade that would ruin my GPA my last semester of college.”

Gwilym scrunched up his face. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“No,” she laughed. “I can be sarcastic too.” She stood up on her tiptoes slightly to reach his lips. They tasted a little salty from going down on her, and she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, seeing if she could still taste any whiskey on his tongue. As she kissed him, she reached down for the button on his pants, unfastening them and then shoving them down his legs.

He broke the kiss to pull them off the rest of the way before pulling her against him, his skin warm against hers as he sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. She could feel his erection between her legs and instinctively rolled her hips, watching his mouth fall open in a silent moan. His head fell back a little and she leaned down to kiss underneath just jaw, down past the hickey she’d given him earlier, all the way to his clavicle. The hair on his chest tickled her chin as she worked, sucking a line of bruises along his collarbone. Something for him to find in the mirror the next morning. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her rhythm steady, not too fast.

Cecilia pulled back and flipped her hair to one side, looking down at him beneath her. “Belongs in MOMA,” she murmured.

“Hm?” Gwilym’s eyes snapped open.

“It’s what I say when I see a piece of modern art,” she explained, “like your face right now.”

“My face?”

Cecilia reached out and ran her fingers over his cheekbone and jaw. “Art,” she whispered.

He reached up to cup her cheek and whispered back, “Art.” Cecilia turned and kissed the palm of his hand. She sat up, reaching behind her to tug on his underwear. He got the message, reaching around her to push them off.

There was a moment of awkward fumbling while they negotiated with the condom. First they couldn’t find it, and finally found it between the couch cushions. Cecilia climbed off while he put it on, but she always felt weird during those few seconds, she just felt weird just watching, so she looked away.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah of course,” she answered, positioning herself in his lap again. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Ready when you are.”

“Okay.” Cecilia sighed. She reached down between her legs and gripped his cock, positioning the tip against her entrance before slowly sinking down, making sure not to get the angle wrong and hurt him. She watched his eyebrows crease together and his nose scrunch up as she sheathed him inside her, her fingers tingling with pleasure.

“Oh,” she murmured as he filled her, “oh wow.” His hands dug into her hips, wanting her to move but waiting for her.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured, watching her through half-closed eyelids.

Cecilia leaned forward, raising up slightly before sinking back down, eliciting a small moan from Gwilym’s lips. He dug his fingers into her hips, helping her establish a steady rhythm. “You wanna come again?” he asked, “gonna make yourself come on my cock, huh?”

“Mmhm, gonna come all over your cock,” she purred, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she moved up and down, grinding her clit against his pubic bone for maximum pleasure. “Fu--fuck, oh!” Her moan turned into a high pitched whine as Gwilym reached between her legs to rub her clit with his thumb, a much better method of stimulation that had her clenching around his cock.

Cecilia continued to move sporadically as her orgasm faded, and she slumped forward against his chest, tucking her chin to press her lips against his shoulder.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, pushing her hair out of his face and wrapping his arms around her, trailing his fingers over her spine.

“Mmhm,” she murmured, “tired.”

“You wanna stop?”

“No,” she shook her head against his neck, “no.” She sat up again. Gwilym was smiling up at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re making this face like,” he laughed, “like you really don’t wanna be on top anymore.” He stuck out his lower lip, imitating her pout. “It’s cute. You’re cute.” He tightened his grip on her thighs. “Hang on.” Grunting with the effort, he stood up and flipped her on her back. Cecilia grabbed his neck, feeling like she’d fall, but she didn’t, she was safely against the cushions and he was above her.

“You’re spry for an old man,” she teased, grinning up at him. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“And you’re gonna get it now.” Gwilym grabbed Cecilia’s leg and wrapped it around his waist, beginning to fuck her at a pace that had her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Oh Christ,” she moaned as his head dropped with effort, his lips on her neck. His mouth was soft against her skin, but that’s not what she wanted. “Teeth,” she muttered in his ear, “you can use your teeth. Leave me a bruise to admire in the morning.” She whimpered as his teeth dug into her skin, wiggling beneath him as he sucked harshly on her neck. Her fingers dug into his back, but her nails were too short to cause any lasting damage.

Their bodies moved together, now slick with sweat from the exertion. When Cecilia leaned up to gently bite Gwilym’s shoulder, she could taste the sweet saltiness on his skin. She rocked her hips up to meet every thrust, her glutes and hamstrings engaging. She would definitely be sore in the morning, but getting fucked this well was so worth it. It was such a rare occurrence. Two orgasms and no blowjob required. In her book, she could call that a success.

“Gwil?” she asked after he hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he slowed and lifted his head to look at her. “Why?”

“You stopped communicating so I got worried,” she explained.

“Oh sorry,” he smiled. “I was actually sort of working up the nerve to ask you to do something.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be more embarrassing than me having to admit I like being bitten,” she laughed, reaching up to run her fingers over the mark on his neck, “and biting people.”

Gwilym shook his head. “I guess not.”

“What is it?” she asked, cupping his face in her hands.

“I kind of just want you to,” he paused. “Talk to me.”

“What kind of talk?” Cecilia asked, keeping her expression neutral. “Dirty talk, degradation, praise--”

“Praise,” he interrupted. “That one.” He seemed grateful that she had said it first.

“Okay,” she said gently, pulling him in for a kiss as they built up their rhythm again before breaking it so she could speak softly in his ear. “You’re so good, baby,” she murmured. “Feel so good inside me, making me come so well.” He bit her shoulder gently and her stomach fluttered. “It’s your turn, now,” she urged. “You’re so wonderful. You deserve to feel good too. Wanna make you feel so good, wanna feel you come inside me, please--”

He reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers, and pulled back to meet her gaze. It was a lot easier to talk to him when she could see his face. “Hi honey,” she purred, “how are you?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, he was concentrating. Cecilia knew that face well, the face one makes when they’re on the verge of coming, they’re so close, they just need one little push. She voluntarily squeezed her muscles around him, eliciting a low moan from his lips that was the sexist sound ever to make its way to her ears, and he stilled. Cecilia reached up and pressed her lips against his, waiting for him to kiss her back.

He did, just briefly, then pulled away from her. She was cold without him, soaked in sweat, but he was back quickly enough, scooping her up and settling her on his lap. She leaned her head on his shoulder and watched his carotid artery pulse rhythmically, until it got too slow for her to see anymore. Her eyelids fluttered.

“Hey,” he nudged her cheek with his nose, “don’t fall asleep. Get dressed and I’ll drive you home.” But neither of them moved. Cecilia knew this had to be a one-time encounter, but she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She didn’t want her time with him to end.

“Hey,” she repeated his tone, cupping his face and turning him back to her, “you kicking me out?” She kissed him deeply, seemingly a sigh of relief for both of them.

He pulled away, just a small distance and smiled. “Stay as long as you want. Office hours are your time, not mine.”

---

I’m going to tag my permanant taglist, most of whom probably don’t read for this fandom, but after this I’ll just tag a BoRhap taglist. Send me an ask if you want to be on it.

Ko-Fi

Permanant Taglist: @astrospideys @hollandlovely @lovemelikeyou1997 @madmadmilk @harryandmolly @yoharryyouawizard @heavenly--osterfield @hollandtomholland @rainbow-marvel @underoossss @nervousguitar  @nilletellsstories @musiclover1263 @fantasyizlife @cutiepie-holland @paradoxparker @hollandhours @tommyswolves @awkwardfangirl2014 @justanotherfangurl272 @alone-in-madness @thescarsweleave @obsesivesun

BoRhap Taglist: @heavenly---holland @benhardy-1

[brian-may-likes-dust]

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind” - Shakespeare

Professor!Gwilym mood board ✨

[love-always-jordan]

Currently obsessing over the band (real life queen and otherwise😉) and I wanna hear everyone's concepts so send em in!!!

[bluesfortheredj]

Even though you were far from the lecture hall now, Gwilym still maintained a certain authority in your relationship. The power he had was clear and even after your year together it still never failed to make your knees weak when he asserted his dominance over you, his voice changing to a deeper tone and his eyes darkening whenever he chose to play with you. Your relationship was still very fair between you the two of you, and this side of him was usually only reserved for the bedroom or very special occasions outside of the confines of your boudoir.

He had almost managed to hide his feelings for you until you’d graduated, but had failed only a couple of months before; already knowing that you had a yearning for him as well thanks to your very obvious lip bites during lectures as he earned the attention of the room so effortlessly with his quick wit and smooth, silky voice that made you clench underneath the desk. It came as a shock to you when he pulled you aside one day, testing the waters by making conversation about life outside of studying and eventually asking to meet you for a drink that evening. As soon as you were both out of the educational setting sparks flew straight away and you ended up staying the night at his, even though it was on the sofa at first, and you practically hadn’t left since then, except now you were beside him in bed instead of downstairs.

The way he’d propose was so typically him, but he knew you’d say yes after dropping subtle hints about the idea of it beforehand, so that’s why he did it while withholding your climax as he stilled inside you and uttered the command of ‘marry me’; only continuing his punishing pace when you managed to say yes, and you’d never had an orgasm like it in your entire life when you finally got there. In true Gwliym style he’d made sure it had to be kept a secret between the two of you this way, and when people asked how he’d proposed you had a family appropriate lie to tell instead of explaining how you’d got engaged midway through love making; the threat of having your orgasm withheld luckily having no effect on your answer.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Gwil asks as he sits down beside you while you stare out of the living room window into the garden.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” you smile as you’re snapped back to reality.

“Are you sure?” he frowns as he lifts his hand and strokes the back of your head gently.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how you proposed,” you reply as you let him guide your head to his shoulder.

“That crosses my mind a lot,” he says as he tilts his head to kiss your hair, “especially when I’m alone at my desk. The desperate, begging expression that was etched across your face was something I won’t forget any time soon.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and kiss his jaw before your eyes are drawn to the clock on the wall and the sudden realisation that you had somewhere to be.

“We’ve got to go!” you gasp, getting up off of the sofa and running into the hall to get your shoes on.

“What? Where?” Gwil asks as he leans against the door frame, studying your body as you bend over to pull on a pair of boots.

“My cousin’s birthday!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps lightly, his voice steady and calm unlike yours, “I completely forgot. The gifts are upstairs on the spare bed, I’ll get the wine,” he continues as he slips on a pair of loafers.

This pretty much summed you both up; him the calm and collect professor who seemed completely unperturbed by any stressful situation, and you the scatter brained art history lecturer who was almost always late and had at least one pen or pencil sticking out of her hair. They do say that opposites attract, and it was certainly undeniable when it came to you two. Gwilym opens the front door for you as you come rushing down the stairs with the presents and your car keys jingling in your other hand, then he locks up behind you both while you start the engine and tap the steering wheel impatiently as you wait for him to slide in beside you.

“Have you got everything?” he asks, knowing what you’re like.

You take a few seconds to think before nodding, “yes, I believe so!”

“It’s a miracle,” he chuckles lightly, giving your thigh a squeeze before you reverse off the drive.

You enjoyed his constant touches, the need to know you’re there and you won’t leave him the main motivation behind them, and the comfort they gave you filled your own need to be validated and reminded that it was you, and only you, that he wanted. When you pull up outside the house where your family were gathering Gwilym carefully takes a hold of your jaw so he can turn your head to face him, then his gaze falls upon your lips as he moves in to press a hungry kiss against them as his light grip slides down to your neck. You gasp into his mouth as he squeezes you briefly before letting go and breaking away from your lips, then you watch as he exits the car before you, going up to the front door and making your arrival known before you’ve even left the car.

“Arse,” you whisper to yourself as you free yourself from the seat belt; annoyed yet also extremely turned on at how he could leave you wanting more from a simple touch.

As soon as you walk in two children run past you both with a loud giggle, and your cousin gives you an exasperated sigh as he welcomes you in.

“I take it Helen’s family are here too then?” you chuckle as you give him a hug.

“Yep, and the 87 kids they have between her sisters! Hi Gwilym, thank you both for coming,” he smiles as he shakes Gwil’s hand.

“Don’t be so dramatic, there’s only three!” you laugh.

“Four now actually… Anyway, come on through and help yourself to something to eat and drink, and just move out the way if you see some children heading straight for you, because trust me they will not stop.”

“I appreciate the heads up,” Gwilym says with a raise of his eyebrows.

He slips his hand in yours tightly as you walk into the living room where most of the noise was coming from and you’re greeted by Helen’s family while yours hides out in the peacefulness of the garden. Somehow you’re torn away from Gwil as one of the little ones insists on showing you something very important, and within fifteen minutes you appear to have a mini art club going at the coffee table with all three kids and the new baby on your lap. The three, six and seven year olds sit in front of you in awe as you use their paints and pencils to create a rainbow over a forest of trees, then they copy your picture and add their own special touches to their works of art.

“That’s amazing!” you encourage them, “I love that dinosaur!”

Gwilym looks on from the doorway after having spoken to your family, his fingers tapping along the stem of his wine glass while he watches you carefully; the baby now being rocked in your arms as you idly stroke their tiny toes with your free hand and keep your eye on the older kids opposite you. His eyes widen as you look down at the small bundle in your arms and run the back of your hand so gently along their small, chubby cheek, then down their arm to the delicate little fingers that grasp one of your fingers automatically, and in that moment he aches to see you with your own.

“She’s brilliant with them,” Helen’s sister grins from beside him.

“A natural,” Gwilym nods.

“You’re going to be next!” she sings as she walks away.

You would, you definitely would, even if you didn’t quite realise it yet.

“We’ve got to go,” Gwil whispers as he kneels down next to you, taking a quick look at the sleeping baby pressed against your bosom, “we really need to get going.”

“Why? Are you feeling okay?” you frown with concern.

“I need to get you pregnant,” he says quietly, but very seriously.

“You… What?”

“I said I need to get you pregnant, now.”

He pulls his face away from your so you can see it properly, and the pleading look in his eyes is more than enough to make you nod and start your goodbyes before handing the baby back and heading towards the front door.

“I’m not quite sure the ‘Gwilym doesn’t feel well’ line worked with you and your wandering hands all over me,” you say on the drive home.

“I couldn’t care less right now,” he states as he reaches over and lifts your dress so he could gain access to your underwear.

“What are you doing?!”

“I need you wet and ready by the time we get in the door,” he says with a lick of his lips while his fingers slip underneath the cotton and run along your folds.

Your knuckles begin to turn white with how tight you’re gripping the steering wheel and by the time you arrive home you’re certainly in the state he wanted you to be in; his already erect member sliding inside you with ease as he bends you over the drawer unit in the hallway before the front door has even shut. You slide your hands out to grip onto either end of the unit and steady yourself as he fills you over and over again whilst animalistic grunts leave his salivating mouth at the thought of you pregnant with his child.

“So you want me pregnant, huh?” you pant as he helps you stand on your unsteady legs after turning to face him.

“Yeah,” he nods before gently biting down on his lower lip, “I need to see you growing with our child, your stomach swollen with our baby safe inside, your breasts filling with the milk they’ll need, your whole body working to create our own little miracle. But that was a warm up, purely because I couldn’t control myself over the thought of it all.”

He discards his clothes where he stands and encourages you to do the same before taking your hand and leading you upstairs to the bedroom as you follow him in a stunned silence. You’d spoken about kids soon after he popped the question, but it was always finished with ‘in the future’, and never any more precise than that, although you certainly weren’t complaining about it happening now.

“Are you sure this is what you want Gwil?” you question when you get to the bedroom and slip your hand from his.

“Do you really think I would have mentioned it if I wasn’t?” he replies, taking your face between his hands.

“I suppose not...”

“I love you so much I feel as if I can’t breathe when you’re not near me,” he frowns with conviction.

You smile at him as your fingers wrap around his wrists lightly and slowly lower his hands from your face so you can pull him towards the bed here you throw back the covers and slide underneath them ready for him.

“Let’s make a baby then,” you grin as he positions his body above yours.

“Lift your bum up sweetheart,” he winks as he grabs a pillow from the other side of the bed to place right at the base of your spine, “I need to make sure I get nice and deep.”

Your fingers weave their way through his hair as he slowly eases himself inside you once more, then his hand travels up your body as he starts to move, and his lips leave lingering kisses along your neck and shoulder while your hands now tug lightly at his locks. This time he was slow and methodical with his movements, your hips meeting in a steady rhythm while the angle he was at allowed a deeper thrust.

“Gwil,” you groan, “ah! Oh god.”

His teeth sink down around your nipple and you can feel his lips turn up into a smirk at your reaction to both the tenderness of them at the moment and the sting of pleasure the bite gave you.

“I knew it,” he grins smugly as he lifts his head.

“Knew what?”

“That this would be the perfect time,” he says, ending the sentence with a stuttered moan.

“Because I should be… fuck!… ovulating?”

“Mhmm,” comes his muffled reply as he buries his face between your bosom and licks up to your chin before kneading one of your breasts with his hand, “these will be so big,” he exhales.

You open your mouth to reply but his pace increases at the thought of your chest expanding during the pregnancy, and all that emanates from your mouth is an unsteady moan as you try and keep your hips in sync with his.

“Your curves are going to be accentuated by the growing bump,” he pants, turning the speed up that little bit more and enhancing the sound of his skin smacking against yours with a renewed desperation to fill you with everything he had.

“Gwilym!” you cry out as your body now moved up the bed with his forceful thrusts and your fingers now dig into his back as your heels cross over and encourage him by pressing on his buttocks.

The sensations were almost too much for you and he notices the change in expression on your face as your mouth hangs open and your eyes squeeze shut, so he makes sure to cover your face in wet kisses to let you know he knew.

“You’ve got to take it… take it all… can you do that?” he whispers beside your ear.

“Yes Professor Lee,” you reply, knowing what effect that had on him.

“Oh you’re such a good girl… so… good,” and with one long loud groan he gives you everything you need; your thighs then shaking either side of his hips right on cue.

Once your pulses around his length have drained him of his seed you both stay as you are for a couple of minutes; him holding himself above your chest with one arm as his free hand brushes the hair back from your face lovingly, and he leans down to slip his tongue into your mouth for a hungry kiss as you smile up at him knowing that there’d be a lot more of this happening from now on.

professor Gwilym with a breeding kink!

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @tenement-funstah @rogmeddows @drivenbybri

[warren-lauren]

I'm going camping from today until Monday (my birthday present from my lovely boyfriend) but don't worry, I've got a list of things to write, a brand new writing pad, and a pen full of ink. As soon as I get back, I'll update you with loads of content.

[innuendostyles]

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF YOU AND PROF!GWILYM?!?!?!?! Please

if you’ve stayed at gwilym’s house the night before and you both have a free day today, you best bet your ass that he’s gonna wake you up with breakfast in bed. waffles, pancakes, fruit, porridge, literally anything he can whip up ... he’s always awake before you, so if he can’t be bothered making breakfast after your .... busy night, he’ll switch his tv on and find the music channel or connect his phone to his speakers and play his playlist, just so you can wake up in a good mood (yeah he’s that extra).

after you’re both fully awake, he’ll usually somehow persuade you into some blissful morning sex. it’s all breathy and lovey, not very loud or fast, just soft and slow. the eye contact? CONSTANT. he’s looking straight into your eyes and you’re looking back at him and you both feel like you’ve never been this in love before 🥺

gwil somehow convinces you that baking would be fun so y’all spend 2 hours making a cake, he obviously sends pictures to his mama which is followed by 20 missed calls cause she wants to know who he made the cake with !!! you’ll put on your playlist and dance around for a while with gwilym, no cares in the world about how stupid you look, cause the look gwilym is giving you right now is making you feel like you’re on top of the fucking world. gwilym most definitely pulls out the polaroid and takes so many pictures that you have to order some more printing sheets for it cause he just printed 20 in 10 minutes and they’re all of you 🥺 he’s literally like “no y/n i will NOT stop” ( SEEK THESE TWO BLURBS BY MISS ELLIE @almightygwil PART 1  /   PART 2) he just loves how domestic you look and like, wow, he really fucking loves you !!! (p.s the playlist y’all made is a collaborative one that you both contribute to daily !! he’s always sending you reccommendations and then telling you he put them on “The Playlist”, which he listens to it way more than he admits to - the other professors hear him humming the familiar tune of a classic 80s love song all the time).

a little later in the day you decide that actually you should get some work done, so he plays his relaxing playlist and clears up all the mess you made from baking in the kitchen while you get on with your work. gwilym leaves you in complete solitude while you’re working so when you’re done he’s all never leave me again please !!!! and you’re like gwilym my love i was in the next room for like 30 minutes ???

you’d probably watch a film or catch up on some crime-thriller gwilym started watching, not really paying attention cause the sound of gwilym’s heart beating in a steady rhythm is much more important at this moment. and he can see your fingertips on his chest tapping at the same rate as his heart is beating and he looks down at you and just wants to burst with love cause he cannot believe how much you mean to him. you look up at his face and he looks like a lovesick puppy and you just have to burst into giggles because this is so crazy and you’re dating your professor but it doesn’t feel wrong !!! gwilym can sleep through absolutely anything so when you look up and find him asleep you're like oh okay cool i’ll sleep as well and you both wake up at like 1am and decide to actually go to bed so you can get a decent nights sleep

but,,,, if you and gwilym have class tomorrow, its a completely different story. gwilym still makes you breakfast but it’s much less romantic when he has to practically shout your name to wake you up, even though he knows you’re already awake, you’re just doing this to be annoying (he secretly loves it) you’ll be getting dressed or brushing through your hair and you turn around and see gwilym just BEAMING at you because guess what !!! he fucking loves you !!!

you have to take a bus to uni and sometimes gwilym just really fucking wants to take you with him in his car but that’s never gonna happen :( he just feels so bad when it’s raining and he knows you’ve been waiting 10 minutes at the bus stop, he texts you and asks you once again if you wanna come in the car with him and you feel so bad declining but it’s way too fucking risky for you both🥺

usually you both end up at uni at the same time and being in his class is just the best thing in the world. if he’s reading something that’s really soft or that reminds him of you he just has the biggest grin on his face and his words get all jumbled when y’all make eye contact.... like he entirely forgets that there are 120 other people in the room and he just shares the warmest smile with you, which you reciprocate of course, and no one seems to notice luckily. when your class is taking notes he’ll sometimes shoot you a message sneakily, “Did you get the last bit? I can explain when we get home if you need x” or just a “You look very confused love x”. it’s so ironic because you always understand what he says, sometimes you just make him explain it at home simply for your own pleasure. when he speaks about what he loves he’s so fucking passionate !!! like he rambles and rambles and it’s so cute you just can’t help but shut him up with a kiss and he realises that you did understand him you just wanted to hear him speak 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[the-claire-bitch-project]

After Office Hours - G.L.

Summary: Gwilym calls Cecilia and asks her on a date.

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x OC

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: Age difference, alcohol consumption (by adults), oral (male receiving), vaginal penetration, praise kink, biting

A/N: I got so turned on writing this I had to take a break to masturbate if that tells you anything about the smut in this.

Moodboard, once again, by the lovely @heavenly---holland

Cecilia kicked her feet in the air, face down on her stomach as she scrolled through her Twitter feed. Occasionally she would laugh out loud at something, and sit up to text it to a friend. She was meant to be folding the pile of clean towels next to her, but her executive dysfunction wouldn’t let her. She was so relaxed, that when her phone rang in her hand, she jumped, but when she looked at the caller ID, she smiled.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Gwilym sounded nervous, “hi, how are you?”

Cecilia giggled. “I’m good, how are you?”

“Good, good,” he cleared his throat, “I’m, uh, are you busy?”

“Not particularly.” Cecilia rolled over onto her back, tugging her shorts back into place. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Gwilym inhaled deeply, “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me. At my place. I’m making pasta.” Cecilia bit her lip to contain a smile. She was so glad he couldn’t see her, curling into a ball as she attempted to contain her squeal.

“At your place?” she asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “is that okay?”

“Um,” Cecilia paused. Going to his place would most definitely lead to sex again. “Gwilym Lee, are you trying to seduce me?”

Gwilym laughed. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But really I just have all this wine and pasta and I want to share it with someone.” He paused. “With you,” he added earnestly. “I just,” he sighed, “I wanted to, you know, get to know you.”

“What should I wear?” She asked, dropping her voice low.

“Um, whatever makes you comfortable,” Gwilym said. “If it helps, I have on jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Wow, do I get to see casual Professor Lee?” Cecilia teased. She stood up and shimmied out of her pajama shorts and panties, pulling on a pair of lacy black boyshorts and high waisted denim shorts. He’d enjoy her freshly shaved legs. She put her phone on speaker and placed it on the dresser while she dug for a clean t-shirt, but pulling out a tank top instead. She said “fuck it” to a bra and tucked the tank top into her shorts, buckling a belt around her waist, looking like the image of the perfect college coed. Not that she was trying to fuel the fantasy or anything.

Gwilym groaned. “You know I don’t like being called that.”

“You know I’m just teasing,” she prodded. “You gonna give me your address, loverboy?”

“Ooh love, ooh loverboy,” Gwilym sang, “what’re you doin’ tonight?” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, if someone says a lyric I know I just have to sing it.”

Cecilia laughed, “it’s cute. I like it. But deadass, what’s your address?”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“Okay,” Cecilia sighed. She pulled her wallet out of her school backpack and shoved it into the quilted leather backpack she used as a purse. “See you soon.”

“See you.” They hung up. Cecilia squealed to herself. It was so cute of him to call her. Much better than the boys who usually just texted asking if she was DTF. She shook her head and left the apartment, bouncing on her toes as she headed down to her car. The text from Gwilym came while she was in the elevator. She plugged it into her phone as she started her little car.

Twenty minutes later she turned down her music to squint at the house numbers. She thought she was in front of the right one, stopping in front of it and craning her neck to spot the number and confirm she was correct. She sighed and put the car in park. Before she lost her nerve, she turned it off and grabbed her bag, shoving her phone in her back pocket as she walked up to the front door.

It was small, no more than two bedrooms, but he probably didn’t need more room than that. It was still nicer than anyone she knew. Everyone in college was too broke to live anything more than paycheck-to-paycheck.

Cecilia sighed and knocked on the door. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts and stepped back, waiting. Finally she heard the lock click. The door swung open and there was Gwilym. Wiping his hands on a dish towel. White t-shirt stretched tight over his shoulders. Jeans that hugged his thighs. Cecilia sucked in a breath and froze.

Gwilym seemed stone-like as well, looking her over. He recovered quickly though and stepped over the threshold towards her, reaching for her cheek and tilting her chin up towards him. She managed to thaw herself out and grip his shoulder as he kissed her, pulling her flush against him. She leaned back from the force of his kiss, her t-shirt bunched up in his hand, his fingertips burning into her exposed skin.

“Hi,” she whispered as he pulled away.

“Hi,” he replied. “Come on in.” She followed him through the door and into the hall. His house was decorated well, better than any male-occupied dwelling she’d entered since she’d started college. “You can leave your bag there.”

“Shoes too?” She asked.

“If you want.”

She followed him, trying not to stop and look around, but was soon distracted by his kitchen and the smell. He pulled a bottle of wine from the wine fridge in the island and poured her a glass. Red. She didn’t usually drink red, and tried not to wrinkle her nose as she inhaled. She took a sip, decided she liked it, and drank more, draining half the glass in one go.

“More?” Gwilym offered, and Cecilia nodded. He refilled her glass and topped off his own before turning back to the pasta sauce on the stove. Cecilia, not thinking, pushed herself up to sit on the counter to watch him, sipping her wine.

She watched his shoulders through his t-shirt, letting herself take him in. He didn’t seem like a professor like this. Just a guy. A hot guy. A hot guy who could cook. She set her wine glass down and leaned back on the counter. Not even bothering to contain the fact that she was checking him out as he turned off the stove and turned around to grab the plates next to her.

“Enjoying yourself, huh?” he teased.

“Mmhm,” Cecilia purred. “Never had a man cook for me before.”

“Yeah?”

“Never had someone call me for a date either,” she admitted. “It’s always texts these days.”

Gwilym was quiet as he spooned pasta from the colander in the sink onto plates, then topped them with sauce. He pulled silverware from the drawer and headed for the table. Setting all of it down before looking around, his eyebrows crinkled.

“Napkins,” he muttered, heading back for the kitchen. He pushed Cecilia’s leg to the side to open a drawer, pulling out two cloth napkins, but inadvertently pushing her legs apart. Cecilia’s chest tightened at the thought that he would think to use cloth napkins, just for her. As he shut the drawer and started to turn away, seeming to forget she was there, Cecilia caught his arm.

“Hey,” she murmured, reaching for him, pulling him between her legs and trapping him there. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He nuzzled her cheek, resting his hands on her thighs.

“Nobody’s ever done all this for me.”

“I just cooked,” he shrugged. “I would’ve cooked this much anyway. Had leftovers for tomorrow.”

Cecilia pressed her lips against his, quickly pulling away. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” She cupped his cheeks. “No one’s ever tried to get to know me at all,” she admitted with a sad smile.

“You’re gonna be so sick of me asking you questions,” Gwilym promised as he helped her off the counter, his hand on her lower back as they walked towards the table. Cecilia let him pull her chair out for her and placed her napkin in her lap.

He’d made fettuccine with alfredo sauce and added chicken, mushrooms, and green peas. It smelled absolutely divine. Cecilia couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a quality home-cooked meal. She was in college after all, and ate a lot of takeout.

“This looks so good,” she murmured as she twirled pasta around her fork. Gwilym watched her, amused, sipping his wine as he waited for her feedback. She groaned. “Oh my god,” she swallowed. “Delicious.”

“Good,” Gwilym smiled and picked up his own silverware. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I honestly don’t think I’ve eaten this well since the last time I was home,” Cecilia admitted.

“Where’s home?” Gwilym asked politely.

“Houston,” she answered. “It’s only like a two and a half hour drive but,” she sighed, “I haven’t been home since winter break.”

“What the hell have you been eating since January?” Gwilym chuckled.

Cecilia shrugged. “I hate to cook so, a lot of takeout, a lot  of grilled cheeses,” she admitted. She felt her cheeks getting hot and looked down at her food, wanting to change the subject. She looked up. “What’s a Welshman doing in Austin?” she asked out of genuine curiosity.

“When I was in uni,” Gwilym explained, “I studied abroad for a semester here and fell in love with it. I mean, I study music,” he shrugged, “so I was naturally drawn to the live music capital.” He paused. “I don’t have a Welsh accent, how’d you know I was Welsh?”

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “Your first name is so Welsh it hurts.”

Gwilym laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

They finished eating with comfortable conversation and Cecilia rinsed their plates as Gwilym refilled their wine glasses.

“You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, resting his hands on her waist as she worked on the dishes, loading them neatly in the dishwasher. She turned around in his arms, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“I already did,” she chuckled, “plus I like doing dishes.”

Gwilym scrunched up his nose. “Who likes doing dishes?”

“Me,” Cecilia said, reaching for her wine glass. “I find it relaxing.” She slipped out of his arms and headed towards the living room, looking around at the art on the walls, trailing her fingers across the keys of his piano, taking in his space.

Like before, Gwilym sat down on the couch to watch her, sipping wine. Now that he felt like he had permission to stare at her, he wasn’t going to waste the chance. He watched the muscles in her legs flex and relax as she walked, wanting nothing more than to touch her, but he waited, letting her come to him. He thought maybe she’d sit down when she tilted her head back and finished her wine.

“You want some more?” He started to stand up.

“I got it,” she said lightly, heading back into the kitchen. Gwilym heard her pull the bottle of wine out of the fridge and looked up to see her headed back towards him, the now uncorked bottle clutched in her hand. She smiled and took a swig. “Glasses are overrated,” she claimed.

He laughed and finished his glass, reaching one hand for the bottle, the other for her hand. As she sank into his lap, he took a long drink before setting the bottle on the side table.

Cecilia inclined her head, reaching up to grip his chin and tilt his face up towards her. She smiled as she brushed her lips across his. She pulled away slightly, her heartbeat quickening when he chased after her with a smirk. His fingers trailed up and down her thigh, making her feel hot and shivery at the same time. She sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair, tucking his head under her chin, feeling his soft breaths, small puffs, on her collarbone. His lips brushed over her skin and she hummed contentedly, stroking his hair while he held her.

She finally worked up the courage she needed, took a deep breath and asked, “what is this?”

“Hm?”

“What are we doing?” She pulled away and slipped off his lap to sit next to him, leaving her legs across his thighs. “I mean, what do you want from me?”

Gwilym sighed and reached for Cecilia’s hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “You know that day I told you to come to office hours?”

“Mmhm.”

“I didn’t intend for anything to happen,” he confessed. “I genuinely wanted to learn from you. I love hearing opinions.” He laughed. “Not many people speak up in class.”

“You lowkey pissed me off,” Cecilia admitted with a giggle.

“Yeah you’re quite defensive over your boys,” Gwilym nodded. He’d read her paper on “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he knew exactly how much she loved Queen.

“Anyway,” she interrupted, getting him back on track.

“Oh yeah,” he remembered. “I didn’t intend to, you know—“ He rubbed his chin, his beard making a scratching sound.

“Fuck me?”

“Yeah.” He looked down, his cheeks going red. “I’m not that guy.”

“I never thought you were,” Cecilia assured him, squeezing his hand. “You—“ She stopped, burying her face in his shoulder out of embarrassment.

Gwilym nudged her expectantly. “You make me feel like a woman,” she mumbled into his shirt, “a grown up.”

Gwilym squeezed her hand again. “You make me feel young again. I don’t have to be all stuffy and professional around you,” he laughed and reached for the wine bottle, “I don’t know the last time I drank straight from the bottle.” Cecilia reached for the bottle and took a swig. She sat up and looked at Gwilym.

“I like you,” she admitted. “I don’t care about the age difference. I like spending time with you,” she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I like making love to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Gwilym dropped his voice. He tilted his head towards her, eyes half-lidded. She smiled and let go of his hand, reaching up to touch his face.

“Yeah,” she whispered and opened her mouth, slotting her bottom lip between his. They sank into each other, the kiss slow, wet with saliva as he slid his tongue into her mouth, teasing her for just a moment before retreating, sucking on her bottom lip and gently biting down with his teeth. Cecilia smiled into the kiss, giggling as he tugged on her lip.

“Mm,” he murmured as he pulled away, “almost forgot I made dessert too.”

“Did you?” Cecilia was surprised. She traced the shell of his ear with her fingers. “I thought you were my dessert.”

“Normally,” Gwilym sucked in a breath when Cecilia leaned forward to suck on his earlobe, “I’d say fuck it, and let you suck my cock right here,” Cecilia felt wetness pooling in her panties at his words and squeezed her legs together, “but I worked hard on those chocolate-covered strawberries.”

Cecilia sat up. “Chocolate-covered strawberries?” She bit her lip.

“Mmhm,” Gwilym nodded. “Wanna try them?” Cecilia nodded frantically and scrambled to her feet, racing him to the kitchen.

She pushed herself up on the counter while Gwilym opened the fridge, pulling out a tray full of the promised sweetness. He picked one up and held it to her lips. She took a bite, the sweet juice dripping down her lips as the hardened chocolate cracked between her teeth.

“Oh,” she moaned a little, reaching up to wipe her chin. “Delicious.”

Gwilym smiled and finished off the strawberry. “I used to make them for my mom back when I lived at home,” he explained. “Every birthday and Mother’s Day.”

“How sweet.” Cecilia reached for another strawberry and took a bite. “To once again admit my broke student status,” she laughed, “I don’t usually eat dessert. If I do,” she paused and hopped off the counter, sauntering over to the fridge to find something she saw when Gwilym had opened it earlier, “it’s my guilty pleasure.” She held up the can of whipped cream before pulling off the cap and spraying it directly into her mouth.

Gwilym burst into laughter. He walked over and reached for her waist, kissing her and licking the whipped cream off her lips. “You’re adorable,” he murmured, squeezing her hips before reaching for the can of whipped cream. “Hmm,” he pulled back and regarded her for a second before nudging her tank top off her shoulder. He shook the can a bit before carefully placing a line of whipped cream along her collarbone, then leaning over and gently licking it off.

“Fuck,” Cecilia murmured as her head lolled back. Gwilym took advantage of her exposed neck and mouthed at the sensitive skin under her jaw before biting down and sucking.

“Ever noticed that whipped cream is inherently phallic?” Cecilia babbled. “I mean, the white shooting out, come on whipped cream companies.”

Gwilym laughed against her neck, clutching her tank top in his fingers, gently tugging it out of her shorts. “I noticed,” he murmured as he lifted her shirt over her head. “Also noticed you don’t like bras, hm.” His hands, warm on her skin, drifted up to cup her breasts and Cecilia leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching as he put his mouth over one of her nipples. She twisted his hair around her fingers as he ever so lightly tugged with his teeth, eliciting a soft moan.

She fisted his hair, pulling his lips back up to hers and reached down to tug on the hem of his t-shirt. “Off,” she commanded, only breaking the kiss momentarily as he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. He moved to grab her thighs and put her on the counter, but Cecilia had other ideas.

“No,” she murmured, shoving him back against the other counter before sinking to her knees in front of him. His knuckles were white against the edge of the granite countertop as Cecilia worked on his belt, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, pulling his boxer briefs down just enough to reveal his cock, aching and hard beneath her fingers.

She ghosted her lips over the tip, her thick curls falling in curtains around her cheeks and she leaned back to shake them behind her shoulders. Gwilym gently reached down to sweep her hair back, knotting it around his fingers but still letting her move her head freely. She looked up at him through her lashes as she let her thumb brush over the head of his cock and he bit his lip.

“You don’t have to be quiet on my account,” she said before sitting up a bit and opening her mouth to run the flat of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Finally she elicited a sweet moan from his lips as she fully took him in her mouth, letting saliva drip down the shaft so she could stroke him with her hand. She paused as he filled her mouth, taking deep breaths in and out through her nose to suppress her gag reflex. Her free hand crept up his thigh and without prompting, he laced his fingers with hers.

“You’re doing great, honey,” he murmured.

His grip on her fingers was nearly as tight as his grip has been on the counter and she knew he really wanted to move his hips and fuck her mouth, but was letting her take her time. She pulled back and pumped him a few times, inhaling deeply before taking him in her mouth again, a little further each time until he a whimpering mess.

“God, that feels so good,” he moaned, “you’re doing so well, honey. Your mouth feels so fuckin’ good on my cock--”

“Mmhm,” she hummed a little as he hit the back of her throat and felt his fingers twitch in her hair, but he held it together, keeping his hips still while she breathed through her nose, her gag reflex threatening to end the whole operation. She squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled back again. She looked up at him. “I can’t go very fast,” she confessed. “I have a horrible gag reflex.”

“You can stop whenever you want,” Gwilym assured her. “I’m all yours for as long as you want me.”

Cecilia thought for a minute, and then tucked him back inside his boxer briefs and stood up. But when he tried to pull his hand away from her hair, she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry!” His eyes went wide. “I think my hand is stuck.”

“Oh no,” Cecilia muttered. “Here see if you can extricate it,” she offered, slowly turning around, wincing as her hair twisted further around his fingers, pulling on her scalp. Gwilym used his other hand to free his fingers one at a time, murmuring soft apologies as he worked and finally pulled his hand free, taking more than a few strands of hair with it. She turned back around and wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling as she leaned in to kiss him.

“I can’t believe that happened,” he said against her lips.

“I can,” she pulled away with a laugh. “I get stuff stuck in it all the time. Brushes, bobby pins, rings,” she sighed, “it’s worth it though. I love my hair.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Gwilym murmured, his hands on her waist. He fiddled with the ends of her curls on her back, too nervous to try and put his hand in her hair again. They sank into each other again, bare chest to bare chest. He radiated heat, and Cecilia felt goosebumps from the sudden temperature change, like stepping into a hot shower.

“You gonna take me to your bed now?” Cecilia challenged, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Follow me.” Gwilym slipped out from between her and the counter, reaching his hand out behind him for her to take. She could feel her clit pulsing with arousal as she watched his back muscles flex and relax with every step.

They reached the door to his bedroom and he pushed it open. Cecilia paused in the doorway to take it in. The floor was clean, the bed was made and had decorative pillows, his nightstand and dresser were free of clutter. There was an abstract painting on one wall, a few photos of friends and family on his dresser and bookshelf. It was the most adult bedroom she’d ever been in.

“Wow,” she breathed, silently thinking about the pile of towels on her never-made bed, the stack of textbooks in the corner, the collage of unframed photos taped to her wall, her nightstand that was always cluttered with medications, empty diet coke cans, and hair ties. She wondered if having a neat room was a sign of being a grown up, or if they just had different personalities and her room would be messy forever.

Gwilym ignored her awe and instead powered up a small speaker. “What kind of music do you want?” he asked, scrolling on his phone.

“What are my options, loverboy?” Cecilia asked. She unbuckled her belt. At the clinking noise of the buckle, Gwilym looked up and swallowed.

“Uhhh,” he shook his head, “like, 80s, 90s R&B, we could go back to the 70s, I can find something from this century,” he trailed off with a smirk. Cecilia pushed her shorts down her legs and kicked them aside, now standing in just her lacy black boyshorts. They left little to the imagination, but from the way Gwilym was looking at her, he was definitely imagining something.

“80s is good,” Cecilia suggested. She smoothed and adjusted the sides of her panties, making sure the lace was laying flat against her skin, feeling a little self-conscious. Unlike their first encounter, lustful and rushed, Gwilym had time to stare at her now, regard her body as music streamed from the speaker, more powerful than she expected.

She lay back on the bed, scooting up against the pillows as Gwilym took off his jeans and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strolled over and sat on the edge of the bed next to her hip. His fingers ran up the inside of her thigh and she opened her legs for him without thinking, putting her hands behind her head, stretching out, revealing her whole self to him.

“I can’t even think of a word powerful enough to describe how beautiful you are,” Gwilym mused as his fingers ghosted across her ribs. Cecilia felt a hot rush of blood up her neck, and shifted slightly under his hands on her waist. “Turn over for me,” he murmured, nudging her onto her stomach, pressing her thighs together again.

She settled her cheek on her hands, turning to the side so she could watch his face as he traced the planes and valleys of her back. Her spine arched involuntarily when he reached down to trace the lace edge of her panties with the tip of his index finger. His hand traveled down to her hamstring, and then back up to cup her ass, fingers splayed underneath the thin fabric. She closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her shoulder, openly mouthing at her before finally sinking his teeth in and sucking a wet, hot bruise into her skin.

“Ohh,” she let out a soft moan as he pulled his hand away from her ass, only to slip his fingers between her legs, palming her over her panties, giving her only a small taste of what she really wanted.

“That feel good, honey?” Gwilym asked. As if he didn’t know. Cecilia managed a nod as he pinched the fabric between his fingers, gathering it up and rolling it across her clit, making it throb with pleasure. She buried her face in the pillow clutched in her arms. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her cheek so he could whisper in her ear. “Want me to fuck you just like this?”

Cecilia turned her head to the side again to look at him. “Please,” she whimpered. Gwilym tilted his head down to kiss her, a hot, wet, and clumsy collision of lips and tongues that made her spine tingle. He pulled away and rolled her panties down her legs, the fabric sticking where her arousal and soaked into it.

“Stay still a moment,” he murmured, giving her ass an affectionate squeeze before his heat was gone. Cecilia sighed and turned her head to watch him search in his nightstand for a condom. He was removing his boxers when he disappeared from her field of vision and she closed her eyes, hearing the sound of the foil being ripped open. She opened her eyes again when she heard him speak. “Want to help me out, honey?”

He had only asked for her hand, but was surprised when he got her mouth too, she leaned over to wrap her lips around the head of his cock and with the sight it was only seconds before he was hard again.

“Good girl,” he murmured, gently pulling away from her. Cecilia smiled and let her head fall back on the pillows. Her cheeks were red at his praise and she arched her back when she felt his hands on her ass again, his knees on either side of her thighs. “You ready, honey?”

“Yeah,” she answered out loud. “Always ready for you,” she added with a sigh.

Cecilia had never had someone fuck her in this position, and was completely unprepared for the overwhelming pleasure radiating through her body when he pushed inside her and she couldn’t hold back a moan of satisfaction. Gwilym wrapped one arm around her waist as he gently pressed his chest against her back, not crushing her, but surrounding her, filling her with his warmth. His free hand pried her fingers from their grip on the pillow and wove them with his. He had stayed still, buried deep inside her as she pulsed around him, adjusting to the feeling of the unfamiliar angle, but now he moved, shallowly thrusting inside her.

“Ho--holy,” Cecilia stuttered as he moved in and out of her, “holy shit.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, mouthing at her neck again, clearly trying to distract himself from getting overwhelmed. If it was this good for her, feeling herself squeeze tight around his cock with every pass, it must be ecstasy for him.

She wished she could tell him how good it felt, how good he felt. She felt safe beneath him. The music was muffled and distant. The only sounds she could hear where her own soft whimpers and Gwilym’s small grunts of concentration with every thrust. She had no words. With some effort, she turned her head back, searching for his lips. He lifted his head and found her. Their lips folded together, but neither could hold it long. She let her cheek drop back to the pillow as she felt an overwhelming sensation of hot pleasure building in her core. This wasn’t like a clitoral orgasm, this was about to be a full-body orgasm and it was coming on fast.

Cecilia felt like she’d lost all control of her muscles as she writhed beneath him. Gwilym tightened his grip on both her waist and her hand, and she nearly crushed his fingers in an effort to ground herself as waves of pleasure coursed outward from between her legs.

Then just as suddenly as it had come on, it faded and she slumped against the mattress, still feeling faint pulses of pleasure squeezing Gwilym’s cock inside her. Her chest heaved beneath him, but his weight on top of her was so pleasant, so comforting she didn’t want him to leave. It took her a few minutes to realize he’d gone still on top of her.

“Gwil?” she croaked, her voice caught in her throat.

“Mmhm,” he murmured, his lips pressed against her neck, tasting her sweet sweat.

“You good?” she asked, squeezing his fingers. It was all she could do, pressed into the mattress like this.

“Mm, I came too,” he admitted. “You coming that hard around me?” He chuckled, his laugh shaking her too. “It was really overwhelming.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, but with his weight on top of her, pressing on her chest, it turned into a full-blown laugh, like that trick people played in middle school to reveal someone’s ‘true laugh.’

“Why the hell would you apologize for that?” He asked, kissing her ear. “You were fucking amazing.”

“Mmm,” she hummed contentedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a true g-spot orgasm before,” she admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You gonna stay there forever?”

Gwil squeezed her waist and tucked his face into her neck. “I might,” he threatened before biting down on her neck. “But I should go get cleaned up.” He sighed and pushed back. Cecilia shivered with the rush of cool air across her sweaty skin and then whimpered at the loss of him inside her.

“Bathroom’s this way,” Gwilym offered and she sat up, then pushed her way to her feet, not expecting her thighs to quiver as she did so.

“Woah,” she leaned on the nightstand, “holy shit.”

“What?” Gwilym asked as she followed him on wobbly legs to the bathroom.

“My legs are shaking.”

“Hm, wonder why that is,” he said with a smirk.

“It couldn’t possibly be because of how well you fucked me,” Cecilia shot back as she took the towel he offered her and cleaned up her thighs and still throbbing pussy. He winked as he disappeared to the toilet and Cecilia sat on the counter so she wouldn’t have to stand, waiting her turn to use the bathroom.

Once they’d both taken care of business and cleaned up, Gwil surprised her as she dried her hands by scooping her up into his arms. She shrieked with laughter as she found herself completely at his mercy, clutching his neck as he carried her back to his bed, dropping her against the soft mattress and panting from the effort.

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he watched a devious grin creep across Cecilia’s face.

She couldn’t help herself. “You’re spry for an old man.”

Gwilym was on top of her in a flash, pushing her legs apart and settling between her hips. He covered her offending mouth with his lips, nearly gagging her with his tongue. His lips were shiny as he pulled back, but he smiled, so she knew he was teasing her.

“You’re gonna get it,” he repeated his promise. “In about fifteen minutes I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk until Sunday.”

Cecilia tsked. “Guess I’ll have to stay all weekend then.”

“What a tragedy,” Gwilym joked as he leaned down to kiss her again.

---

Ko-Fi

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