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teacher’s pet » mkl

genre | smut (mdni!!), college professor!mark x student!reader

word count | 1.7k

summary | you’re infatuated by your english literature professor, and your grade is suffering because of it, so you decide to talk to him about it

warnings | smut, afab!reader and female pronouns, oral (f receiving)

now playing 💿 teacher’s pet by melanie martinez

“professor lee,” your words are delicate as they fall from your lips, and you do nothing to suppress the nervous smile that appears on your face when he looks up at you over the rim of his glasses.

class has just ended, and the other students have just finished filtering out. the air feels thick despite the fact its now only you two in the room. “may i talk to you about something, sir?” you fiddle with the cuffs of your sweater as you stand at the front of his desk.

“of course,” he replies with a friendly smile. he sets down his pen and rises from his chair, moving swiftly around the desk and taking a seat on the edge, right in front of you. suddenly you’re hyper aware of how he’s now at eye level with you. he clasps his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, and leans forward a bit to hear what you have to say.

“what’s on your mind?”

all of a sudden, you seize up. you’ve never had to talk to him in private before, and you’re frozen under his kind brown eyes that are fixed entirely on you. you attempt to get any coherent string of words out, but your mouth will just not respond. after a second of silence he lets out a gentle chuckle, and your cheeks flare with heat.

“taking a wild guess here, this is about your grade, yeah?”

a little ashamed that he already knows, you give him a timid nod. “yes, sir.”

“i’ve seen your transcripts, i know you’re a very smart girl, y/n. but your grade in this class just doesn’t reflect that.” as he speaks he adjusts his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. you stare at his fingers as they move. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about it for a while.”

“i, i-huhm,” you gulp, praying that he can’t tell how nervous you are in his presence. your chest begins to tighten up, attempting to stutter out any morsel of an excuse. you lower your head in embarrassment, fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt. he must have noticed the way your breathing involuntarily stutters.

“hey, it’s alright, sweetheart,” you hear him say, and you feel his fingers brush against your hand. your heart flutters as you feel him gently pull you forward, closer to him. a gasp catches in your throat as you snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide and body temperature rising as you’re now standing between his legs.

his hand holds yours gently on his knee, thumb brushing across your knuckles. his free hand rises to brush your hair off your shoulder. you swear your legs could betray you at any second.

“i’m here to help you, okay? but you have to tell me what’s going on.” theres a tone in his voice and a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his aura is so… loving.

“i think- uhm,” you swallow hard. “i think i’m just a bit distracted is all.”

he hums in thought. you feel your resolve starting to crumble at a pace that’s impossible to recover from. as your eyes dip down to his lips, you notice the way they tip up in a teasing smile.

“what’s distracting you?” his words are slow, heavy.

hot blood rushes through your veins. you can practically feel your pupils dilate. “i wish i could answer that,” you breathe.

english literature had never been your forte as it is, but now that mr. lee- the genuinely most heart stopping man you’ve ever seen- is teaching that subject, it was as if you couldn’t write an intelligible sentence to save your life. you never would have expected a simple professor your sophomore year of college to have such a destructive effect on your grade, as well as your sanity.

coursework is something you can just never will yourself to focus on when he is in the same room. how he sticks the stem of his glasses between his teeth while he grades papers, the way his forearms flex when he leans against a table, that deep voice of his rambling on and on about god knows what while you’re sat in your seat, practically drooling on the end of your pen and rubbing your thighs together as you can only dream of the things you wanted him to do to you.

how can you tell him that he is your distraction?

“you can tell me, i promise.”

your brain is full of fog. you no longer have enough sense to decipher whether or not you’re being completely delusional in thinking he wants exactly what you do. but theres such a strong force pulling you in, weighing you down that you just can’t bring yourself to fight it anymore.

so with not a single thought in your mind other than just your utter need for him, you can’t stop yourself from swiftly leaning forward and stealing his lips in a kiss.

you pull away as soon as you realize what’s happened, ready to babble out some sort of justification for having done something so inappropriate, but you notice one of his hands now lays on your cheek, and the other that held yours has pulled you in even closer, your fingers now resting on his upper thigh. his eyelids are low, breath heavy, glasses fogged.

in a split second you’ve gripped his button up shirt in your fists and pulled your chests together with full force, your lips moving desperately against his. he slides both his large hands around your waist, venturing down to where your skirt falls. you feel his fingertips brush against your skin, digging into the plush of your thighs just below your underwear. you groan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and practically rutting against him for any sort of friction you can find.

he takes this as a hint, gripping the back of your legs and hoisting you up as he stands. you cling to him, fervently kissing him as if he’d disappear if you separated. his hands knead your flesh under your skirt, kissing with you with equal messy hunger.

the kiss breaks once more when he makes it to the other side of his desk, plopping you down in his wheeled office chair. you squeeze the fabric of his collar in your fingers, chasing his lips when they pull away from yours.

“i’ve got some extra credit for you, sweetheart,” your professor says, your chin held between his fingers as you gawk up at him towering over you. face flushed and lips raw, he grins deviously at you from above. you gaze at him like he’s an angel in disguise. “you think you can earn it?”

“yes, sir.”

“good girl,” he purrs, lowering himself to the floor in front of you. your breath quickens, pussy beating with desire at just the mere image of your professor on his knees before you. the loving aura he had is now gone, replaced with nothing but lust.

his eyes are trained solely on your face as he flips your skirt up, revealing your lacy white panties that are already soaked, leaking onto the faux leather of the seat.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you nod frantically.

he smirks at your eager reaction, hooking his fingers under the hem of your panties to pull them down your shaking legs. you whimper sweetly as his fingers trace ever so lightly against your dripping entrance. but you whine as the tender friction disappears, and he’s suddenly right next to you, hot breath tickling your ear.

“you have to be quiet, pretty girl, do you think you can do that for me?” he warns. you arch your back, nails digging into the arm rests, begging for him to continue.

“yes, sir,” you mewl once more.

he hums in satisfaction, placing a hot kiss on your jaw. sweat collects on your hairline as you watch him loosen the black tie around his neck, whipping it off his shirt so harshly it cracks against the tiled floor. the silky fabric covers your mouth as he presses it to your face, and ties it in a tight knot at the back of your head.

needy whimpers of anticipation bleed into the cloth around your mouth as he lowers himself between your legs. the moment his tongue finally meets your weeping core you choke out a muffled cry. as his tongue delves in he groans against your skin, the deep vibration making your head fall back and your eyes squeeze shut. he keeps his hands on your trembling thighs to keep the wheels from moving, sinking his fingers into your soft skin.

your own hands move from their place on the arm rests into his blond hair, raking and yanking as you mercilessly attempt to ground yourself despite the bold pace he’s already moving at. your breath feels muggy against your skin as its trapped in your mouth as you moan.

each second that passes as your professor devours you makes it harder to keep yourself quiet. his tongue swirls faster and faster with little warning, his nose brushing your clit with every bob of his head. a dull buzzing begins to simmer inside you and you just know you’re making an absolute mess of his face.

rapidly approaching release, one of your hands finds purchase on the edge of the desk, gripping so hard your knuckles burn white. the other stays in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer to your core. he notices you’re close, and shifts his tongue up to focus solely on your clit. tears start to spill through your lashes and down your red cheeks as you cum on your professor’s face, and he works you through your orgasm while lewd, pathetic whines are stifled by your makeshift muzzle.

panting heavily, you shiver as he tugs the tie down to hang loosely around your neck, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. you open your eyes and blush when you’re met with his face, covered and glistening from your juices, the lenses of his glasses still cloudy. his pretty wet mouth grins at you, a hand coming up to wipe away the tear stains.

“such a good student, you’re my sweet little teachers pet, yeah?”