#now that i got this out of my system imma go back to doing commissions

[akitalockwood]

I'm ready to commit unspeakable crimes for this woman

[impala-dreamer]

Yes, Professor

~ When Mr. Collins asks you to hang back after lecture one day, you know you're in big trouble...~

Misha x Reader

1,730 Words

Warnings: Teacher/Student Play, Masturbation, Oral, Intercourse. Smluff.

A/N: This was a commissioned piece for @letsdisneythings​. Hope you all enjoy!

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“Ms. Y/L/N, hang back please.”

You dropped your bag as he spoke, startled by the deep voice booming from the front of the classroom.

The gallery was already empty as it had taken a few minutes for you to collect your things. Pencils rolled far when you weren’t paying attention and as always in his lectures, your mind was stuck in places other than writing implement locations.

Your hands were shaking as you zipped your bag and slung it over your shoulder. You had done OK on the last paper, not great, but why was he singling you out? Had you done something to catch his eye? Were you flunking out? The questions churned in your stomach as you descended the short but steep carpeted stairs to the front of the room, leaving a sea of empty desks behind.

He didn’t look up as you approached his desk, eyes down and racing over his notebook. A silver pen was balanced between his fingers, dancing as the long digits moved slowly back and forth. The glinting metal caught your eye and you watched it magically wave through space.  

You cleared your throat.

He didn’t look up.

It was getting late.

“Mr. Collins?”

He licked his lips slowly and finally lifted his chin. “Thank you for staying,” he said with a gentle smile that did nothing to calm your nerves. If anything, it made them worse. His lips were huge and pink, outlined by a heavy scruff over his lip and around; his blue eyes shone like sapphires in the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Even his stupid bowtie was sexy in some strange way, and you held your breath, waiting for him to explain your staying late.  

Slowly, he sat back in his seat, pushing away from the desk a bit as he set his pen down in the crease of his notebook. His eyes narrowed as they took you in, staring at you just as he had his notes.

“How do you think you’re doing in my class, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked out of nowhere, once again jarring you back to reality.

“Uh…” You stumbled to answer, wanting to impress him, to sound smart, but tripping over your own tongue. “Good?”

Mr. Collins nodded patiently, his lips pushing out into a pout.

“You don’t seem to agree,” you cringed, watching his shoulders tense as he looked you over.

“Honestly?” He sighed and sat forward, folding his hands on the desk. “Good isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Great?” you suggested with a little laugh.

He shook his head. “You’re failing, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said firmly. “You’ve been missing assignments and you were late for more than one lecture. I really don’t feel as if you want to be in this class.”

None of it came as a shock to you; you’d been playing it rather loose with your academics this semester, but failing? There was no way you could fail his class and keep your scholarship. Regret and fear churned in your stomach.

“Please, Mr. Collins,” you said quickly, trying not to sound too pathetic, but still garner some mercy. “Things have been a little crazy at work and my roommate moved out, is there anything I can do to make up some points? I cannot fail this course.”

His jaw twitched as he thought over your plea and after a beat, pink lips curled into a slick smile. “We might be able to work something out. Some...extra credit.”

Your hope soared. “Yes, Professor. Thank you. Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything is a dangerous promise, Ms. Y/L/N.” There was a hint of a smirk on his lips and a dash of danger in his eyes.

“I don’t mind dangerous,” you shot back, matching his suggestive tone and running your hand down the strap of your bag slowly.

He turned his face towards the door, then his eyes back up at you. “I bet you don’t.” He waited, unblinking, watching the color rush to your face, the black of your eyes grow.

“Never have, really,” you told him, letting your bag slide off your side and onto the floor. “Danger makes things...exciting, don’t you agree?” Biting your lip, you ran your index fingers across your neckline and downwards, tracing the line of your breasts over your tank top.

“I do.” He sat back again, turning his entire body to you, giving you his undivided attention. “The door is unlocked...there are security cameras...my next class is in twenty minutes.” He paused to watch as your fingers plucked at the hem of your shirt. “Just how excited does that make you?”

The button on your jeans popped easily and you slipped a hand inside them, rubbing it gently across your panties. “Very.”

His eyes were wide as you continued rubbing, shivering as you pulled your panties aside to slide a finger into your wetness.

“It would appear so,” he observed, biting his lip as your face twisted with lust. “Very much.”

You nodded absently and tossed your head back as your body started to tense. “V-very.”

“Ten points towards your final if you can cum in the next thirty seconds.”

Your eyes popped open at his offer, staring down at him as if he were insane. There was no way you could… you could…

He licked his lips slowly, drawing your eyes down to his beautiful mouth. Your hand kept pumping as his tongue swirled around the tips of his teeth, and without realizing it, you reached that sweet spot, your legs lifting up onto your toes, your bottom lip tugged tight between your teeth.

You held your breath.

He whispered your name.

Your cunt clenched down around your fingers and the damn broke.

It was quick and sweet; a little surge of pleasure that flowed through every vein, lifting your mood and clouding your brain. Your clit was throbbing hard as you pulled your hand from your jeans and sucked two fingers between your lips, cleaning them off.

“That was lovely,” Mr. Collins praised. He picked up his pen and jotted something down quickly, paying no attention as you rushed around the side of his desk to his side. “Still need to make up at least thirty points to pass…”

You dropped to your knees and placed your hands on his thighs, spinning his chair towards you. “Perhaps, I can find a few more points...here?” His pants were tight and his zipper gave a little trouble, but you managed.

“I think you might,” he agreed, lifting his hips as you tugged his slacks down. “But, let’s see how you perform first before we promise anything.”

“Oral exams are my specialty,” you smirked, running your palms firmly up his inner thighs.

His cock twitched and your mouth watered. He was big; thick and long laying on his left leg.

He sank back in the chair, stretching out, the tails of his pale pink shirt bright against his hips and ass. “You may begin.”

The taste of him was sublime. Salty and tangy, but fresh. You swallowed around his dick again and again, taking him deeper than you’d ever taken anyone else. The floor crushed into your knees and your jaw began to ache, but you persisted, unwilling to give up the grade or his delicious cock.

The noises he made were incredible. Tiny moans that lingered in the back of his throat, growing louder the harder you sucked. When you cradled his balls, he whimpered as his stomach tensed and you smiled around him, loving the complete abandon of this powerful professor.

His fingers dug into the leather of chair’s arms and he hissed as your teeth scraped at his sensitive flesh.

“That’s…enough, Ms. Y/L/N…”

He sat up as you did, letting his cock drop from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up innocently, wiping a line of drool from your chin, wondering what you’d done wrong.

“Was that...OK?” You batted your lashes and he laughed.

“Oh, that was more than OK,” he said, standing up before you and reaching for your hand. “I just don’t want to ruin that pretty face.”

You stood, hand in his, and he spun you around, pushing you face-down onto the desk. Your breasts smashed against his notebook, palms flat, ass high as he yanked your jeans down.

“I’d rather paint this sweet, young pussy.”

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs, caressing you, clit to ass. He rubbed until your shoulders relaxed, watching as your eyes fell closed as desire flooded your system.

“There’s a good girl,” he teased, moving to stand behind you. “I think this might put you over the failing mark…”

Rough fingers gripped your hips, pulling you back as his cock nudged at your cunt.

“Yes, Mr. Collins, please…”

He rocked forward, warming his erection against your pussy. “Please, what, my dear?”

Your clit throbbed as his head crashed against it. “Please fuck me, Mr. Collins. Please!”

He hummed happily as he pushed inside. “Very well.”

It was strange, the echo of your voices in the big room. The empty gallery gave witness as he fucked you hard and fast against his desk; papers scattering, pencils rolling.

He collapsed over you when it was done, pressing his firm chest into your back and kissing your neck again and again. His breath was hot and staggered as he suckled on your ear.

“I think you pass,” he said with a laugh, finally lifting up.

Pushing up on your arms, your lower back screamed as you shot back. “Oh, ya think?”

“Hey, don’t get snippy with me, Missy.”

You spun and glared. “You got your professor fantasy, Misha...now let’s go before someone actually comes in here.”

He laughed fully, head knocking backward as you pulled your jeans up. “No one’s coming in,” he assured you, moving forward to wrap you in his arms. “They’re not filming in here until Thursday.”

“Baby?” you cooed, sliding your hands upwards to cup his stubbled cheeks. “It is Thursday.”

His smile faded quickly and his eyes flashed, wide and worried. “Shit. Let’s get out of here.”

A quick kiss and then he was gone, backing up to pull up his slacks and grab his stuff.

You sighed happily as he scurried, shaking your head at the goof. “Yes, Professor…”

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