Chapter Text
You tapped your index finger on the edge of the desk you currently sat in, staring at the half completed test in front of you.
Final Exams had always been tough, but none harder than your Literary Final for Professor Hiddleston’s Historical Arts of Literature. You had tried your best to study, taking notes every time he had a lecture, reading summaries of Beowulf, Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet in what small ‘free time’ you had. You had done four Essays concerning ancient techniques of Poetry and Sonnet writing, to which you all but barely passed. You presumed that you would be able to pass your Final easily but you had completely forgotten to recollect notes from last weeks class, the only week you had missed was the week you were learning new concepts of poetry such as Blank Verse, Iambic Pentameter, Ethos, Pathos, and Logos, Adage, and Literary Apostrophe; all to which you thought was not even a part of the English speaking language.
You glanced up at the clock on the wall above the door, 4:30. You had been here nearly 45 minutes and you had about 50 questions to go, you ground your jaw together and desperately tried to not snap your pencil in half as the girl a few seats away from you repeatedly popped her gum. You breathed in deeply and continued to eliminate and mark questions, finally the writing of the cheerleader, who had profusely dunked herself in a vat of perfume, stopped and there was the clacking of her expensive heels against the laminate flooring as she walked to Professor Hiddleston’s desk.
“I have completed my test, Sir.” She spoke in that god awful highly pitched voice of hers, Professor Hiddleston cleared his throat and you looked up to see the cheerleader leaning extensively over his desk as if trying to push her silicon breasts into his face as her skirt came nearly half up her ass.
“Good. Now I trust you will think twice about cheating on an Exam, am I correct?” He asked, your knees shivered and tingled at the sound of his voice. You bit your lip hard and squeezed your eyes shut at you desperately tried to keep inappropriate thoughts out of your head.
“Of course, Professor.” She squeaked and all inappropriate thoughts fled from your mind.
“You may leave then.” Then the room was silent again and you could finally think properly.
You were 15 questions away from being done when the hour and a half timer went off, you sighed and set down your pencil. You picked up your test and jacket before making your way to Professor Hiddleston’s desk,
“Did you finish?” He asked,
“15 questions.” You replied,
“Would you like to stay and complete your test? I don’t mind, I need to finish grading anyway.” You looked up to see him staring directly at you,
“Could I?” You asked, he smiled and replied.
“Be my guest.”
“Thank you sir.” He nodded and you took the seat closest to you which just happened to be in front of Professor Hiddleston’s desk. You were able to finish in peace and in another half hour you were done,
“Why is it that you, being my smartest student, had trouble finishing this Exam while the others passed easily?” Professor Hiddleston asked, the question caught you off guard. Well, sometimes it was hard to focus when you began to trace the edges of his cheek and jawbones, or when you would start drawing his eyes on your test papers, or when he turned to write on the chalkboard, leaving his perfect arse in view, such as he was doing now, or when he would take off his coat and roll his sleeves up, exposing his strong forearms, also what he was doing now.
“I cannot say why, Sir.” You answered.
“And what of Tenisha?” He asked, not turning to face you but continuing to write tomorrows notes and chapter on the chalkboard.
“What of her?”
“Why was she able to finish before you but started after?” He asked with a curious tone,
“Probably because she cheated.” You said without hesitation, a hand coming over your mouth soon after. “My apologies, that was entirely inappropriate.” Professor Hiddleston turned from the board to face you, throwing his paper onto the desk and slowly walking toward the door.
“I shall deem what is appropriate and inappropriate in this classroom.” He said simply, closing and locking the door as your heart rate sped up.
“Sir?” You asked, your hands becoming sweaty and twitchy.
“Drawing contours of a teacher is hardly appropriate.” He spoke, his expression serious and intimidating.
“I’m sorry?” You asked, faking to be confused.
“You should not lie to someone of higher authority.” He spoke, slowly walking toward you and backing you against his mahogany desk.
“My apologies.” You whispered as you inhaled his scent; musky and earthy, like the smell of a forest in spring or autumn.
“I’ve seen how you look at me.” He whispers as he places his hands on either side of you, pressing flush against your body.
“E-Everyone looks at you.”
“But none make my skin burn such as you do.” He growled, “and I want to know why.” You looked up to meet his once green eyes that have now turned black with lust, he glanced down at your lips before looking back into your eyes. Before you could return an answer, his soft demanding lips came down upon yours. He groaned as you enthusiastically returned the kiss, his tongue managed to swipe across your bottom lip which left your lips parting and eyes closing. His hands gripped your hips and tried to bring you closer to him, pressing his now obvious arousal into your abdomen. His tongue pillaged your mouth and began to map out the contours, running the tip over your teeth and tongue; playfully stroking it and lightly suckling it into his own mouth. “You are a distraction.” He growled against you, then stepping back to unbutton his dark royale blue dress shirt.
“A-And what are you going to do to me, Professor?” You asked, leaning back against his desk with your legs spread akimbo.
“I am going to ravage you, you dirty minx.” He groaned, pulling off your shirt and reattaching his mouth to yours. As he tongue fucked your mouth, you ran your hands over the ridges of his chest and abdomen. He groaned as you scraped your nails down his abs to the edge of his trousers, you began to undo the belt and fully pulling it off of him then flinging it onto the floor. “Eager, are we?” He teased, rubbing up your sides to your covered breasts; flicking his thumbs over your now hardening nipples.
“It’s your fault.” You sighed when his mouth ran down your jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses and lightly running his tongue over your throat.
“My fault?” He asked, the vibration of his voice echoed across your collarbones and you moaned.
“You with your stupidly perfect…body.” You groaned, he began to suck and nibble at your neck; most likely leaving a mark visible for days. You fumbled with the button on his trousers before yanking it open and grasping his hard erection, which earned a shuddering moan from him. He began to rut against your hand as you did nothing but hold his cock in your hand,
“You will be the death of me.” He groaned,
“Well, we wouldn’t want that..would we?” You coyly asked, moving your hand against his shaft. He groaned brokenly, resting his forehead against your shoulder. His right hand moved to grip your burning mound and your movements faltered as you too let out a broken moan.
“Does my touch make you wet?” he asked, biting down on your collarbone hard enough to break skin. You cried out as his hand made its way inside both your knickers and trousers, his long fingers made figure eights around your clit and dipped once into your wetness. He pulled out his hand and sucked his finger clean as you watched, “You taste divine.” He smirked, your breath hitched as he kissed you and aggressively pushed his tongue into your mouth; your thoughts scrambling as you tasted yourself on his tongue. “But I would much rather taste you from the source.” He whispered, he hoisted you on his desk and pulled off your trousers; tossing it behind him. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and locked eyes with yours, you gave a shuddering breath as he continued to look at you with terrifying intensity. As he trailed his tongue from your slit to your clitoris, your head fell back and his movements stopped, you whimpered at the lost. “Look. At. Me.” He commanded, the deep vibrations were heavenly agonizing and you couldn’t deny. You looked down at your professor ,buried between your thighs and slowly dragging his tongue around your clitoris. You moaned and grasped his chestnut hair, running your fingers through them and dragging your nails over his scalp. He groaned and began suckling your essence into his mouth as if it sustained him. Your hips bucked of their own accord, pushing your pussy into his mouth in an attempt to bring him closer, as if it were possible. He responded by wrapping his left arm around your hip and holding you down, breaking eye contact to close his eyes and savour your taste. You let your head fall back and your body drop to his desk, still pushing on his head even as one of his fingers teased your entrance.
“Please, Professor!” You cried out, done with his teasing and right on the edge of ecstasy. Professor Hiddleston pushed in his middle finger to the hilt and curling his finger to massage the one spot inside you that had you seeing white and coming off the table with a mixed moan of ‘Oh, Professor!’ and cursing. As you came down from your high, your professor gently removed his finger and cleaned your sticky mess with his tongue. Your eyes were half lidded and your lips parted when Professor Hiddleston stood over your form,
“Did you enjoy yourself as much as I enjoyed you?” He asked. You nodded half-heartedly and he kissed your lips chastely.
“End of Lesson One.” He whispered into your ear.