#prof!tom x reader
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed.
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare.
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk.
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out.
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman.
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils.
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days.
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope.
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps.
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements.
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his.
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander.
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them.
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman.
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness.
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.”
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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Greetings bestie 💖🫡
Requesting a Professor Hiddles story (you can choose what subject he's teaching) where he already has this friendly type of dynamic w/ Reader and she's nervous about finals week and he goes "Tell you what, if you ace all your exams I'll take you out to dinner. Anything you want."
…And then (surprise surprise) she wants to skip all that because she just wants him 🫠🫠
I shall leave spice level entirely up to you 😏
And for some ✨inspiration✨…
Hi bestie! Thank you for requesting a Prof! Tom fic! I loved writing it!
Exam Aid (Prof! Tom Hiddleston x Student! Reader)
Summary: When finals have gotten you down, your Shakespeare professor offers some help...and motivation...
Word Count: 5939 (woof)
Warnings: Eventual Smut at the end! NSFW! (Reader is a college student ((if undergrad or graduate that's up to you)) so she's over 18. Dom! Prof Hiddles and Sub! Reader, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, doggy style, doing it in an office. It's super filthy when it gets there, so be warned), mentions of anxiety and insomnia and mental health. My Shakespeare tastes and my IRL English Major college experiences are used and referenced bc it's my indulgent fic too and I do what I want. Some hurt/comfort. Prof Hiddles being both a dom and silly goofy in one fic bc get you a man who can do both.
Taglist: @huntress-artemiss@ijuststareatstuffhereok89@evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "I'm good at more than just kissing" and ends at "He looked at you with a sweet smile", for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr
It wasn’t the actual week of finals. Oh no, you knew how the drill would go. It was the month or week before. It would be assigned. Every last essay thrown on top of you. And with professors without a touch of reality for students.
“Who the hell has time to read and finish A Tale of Two Cities in two days?!” you thought as you shoved your unabridged copy of Dickens in your bag. Promising yourself to get through as much as you can and then read the Sparknotes summary in the morning. You weren’t immune to it.
Throughout your time in college, you had many a professor. Professors came in varieties. There were creative writing professors who ranged from tiny women who would assign short stories that made no sense to blonde men with glasses and toothy grins who loved it when their male classmates wrote exploitative abuse. Mythology professors with Greek accents and tans. Then there were the mixed bag of literature professors.
The previous professor of the literature survey for Shakespeare also taught the American Literature Survey course. He was Dr. Rutledge. He wasn’t from this year, or even this reality. Either a wise old sage or a kooky scientist from the movie. He had long, thin grey hair, and wore bow ties with black glasses and thick tweed jackets. He smiled and would speak for hours in a tone half sarcastic, half serious. You knew he would go back home and cozy up with a whole copy of Moby Dick next to a fireplace as he sipped on tea or even scotch if he was feeling adventurous. When he brought up sex and seduction with the Scarlet Letter it was the equivalent of hearing a nun confess her last orgy.
So when you registered this year for the Shakespeare course, that was the sight you were expecting.
Since the first day in walked someone different. He may have been wearing a suit, but he definitely was not Dr. Rutledge.
Everyone was gossiping and chattering and sipping on their iced coffees when they fell silent. Every single back stood up straighter at the sight of him. Young, tall, virile. Long, curly reddish blonde hair. A goatee and glasses to show his maturity. Sharp suits that framed every inch of his lean but fit body. Eyes and cheekbones to die for. A jaw so straight it made the men taking the class question if they were.
No introduction of “hi, I’m-” No icebreaker games. He only stepped forward, to his podium. Held onto it, everyone leaned forward. He had all of you in the palm of his hand. Then, with his clear, bright baritone voice, he spoke-
“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York…”
His voice…something about it. So…rich…Goddammit, he picked that one, the opening speech of Richard the Third. If he picked Romeo’s balcony declaration or something like that, you would be in even more danger of falling onto the floor in a horny heap of suppressed yearning. But no…it was Richard the Third’s monolgoue. Of all the characters he was playing, of all the characters in the Shakespeare canon you could thirst after, it was fucking Richard the Third. Definitely not known as a hunk or even a likable person according to canon.
But the way he said it- threatening, villainous even. He leaned in and confessed his true feelings about the royal family and his plot to destroy them and rule over them. You could already feel something stirring inside you. And it was eight am in the morning.
As he finished the monologue, speaking it so naturally it was as if it were his own words, the class burst into applause.
With a casual bow, brushing his curly blonde-red hair out of his face, he introduced himself.
“Hello class- good morning. I’m your professor- Professor Hiddleston, and I will make this as fun and engaging as a morning class on Shakespeare can be.”
From then on, you enjoyed the class. You tackled it on- after all, you wanted to have some fun. You loved Shakespeare. But Professor Thomas Hiddleston…was a bonus. Thank the lord he wore suits. And if not suits, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. He might as well as taken it off for you.
You went through various sonnets. Then explored the poetry- Aphrodite and Lucretia. Then the plays. Even plays that the undergrads thought the most dull he made intriguing. He made everything clear with Shakespeare’s life too himself- how the Bard lost a son named Hamlet. How Shakespeare was accustomed to the great courts and low brothels Prince Hal tasted both of.
When theatres did productions or there was the odd movie adaptation in theatres, everyone went to go see it. Then he had a showing of lesser-known film adaptations. Showing how Orson Welles framed the shot of Falstaff to make the large knight seem even larger. The Bollywood Othello where at long, long last Emilia survived and she was the one to kill Iago, much to the class’s cheering.
“Are there any other movies we should watch?” he asked.
One kid shot up and suggested Shakespeare in Love. He raised an eyebrow.
“ It was not Shakespeare’s invention to have the lovers die. Romeo and Juliet was a a known story in Elizabethan era England and everyone knew back then that the lovers died. It’s like someone just suggesting that Superman comes from another planet- we all know he does. Not because of him having an illicit affair as his poor wife was left to raise their surviving children far off and alone!”
“What about Anonymous!?” cried one kid, trying to be cool.
He let out a deep, ragged sigh.
“There is more than enough evidence to suggest Shakespeare wrote the plays. Every criticism says he can’t write it because he was uneducated. However, if you look, there are hysterical inaccuracies in his geography And no one questions the authorship of Maya Angelou because of her lack of formal education! Just because he was not a nobleman, does not mean he was not aware of things as you are! Every Anti-Stratfordian argument boils down to classicism.”
It was the best class you took. Having him teach definitely helped. And he would invite people for coffee talks and of course, you would bolt to join. Yet you enjoyed it- seeing him so relaxed. Warm in his coat as everyone circled around to talk about plays they knew of but hadn’t read in this class.
“Well- all of us went through our high schools. We all read Romeo and Juliet- what do you think?” he questioned them one autumnal day.
“They’re just brats! Ugh!” one guy snarled out.
That you couldn’t take. You set down your drink, glaring at him.
“They’re not!” you cried out passionately.
Eyes turned forward to you. You wished youcould have slapped him, but you stopped.
“Well, Y/N…why do you think that? Why are they not brats?” the professor asked.
“I think…the plays aren’t meant to be realistic. Of course, they fall in love immediately- so do Rosamund and Orlando but no one calls them brats! It’s not Romeo and Juliet who get everyone killed! It’s not their love that hurts anyone- it’s just the feud and Paris l thinking he is entitled to Juliet’s body after her supposed death! No one knows about them- only they, the nurse, and the priest know about it! They’re innocent! Juliet calls Romeo her ‘friend!” Her one and only friend! That’s how alone she is without him! They are just innocent victims of a greater scheme. Hamlet and Othello fall prey to their own flaws- but Romeo and Juliet are just two young kids caught in the crossfire!”
You didn’t realize how passionate you were. You felt your face get hot with embarrassment as the class gaped at you. But the Professor was nodding his head. He gave you a small smile as you sat down.
“That was…very good. Next time, use the text and a few sources, and you have yourself a good essay, Y/N,” Professor Hiddleston said.
You liked how he challenged you. He would only want you to do better. He wouldn’t blow smoke up your ass, but he would support you. You would ask after each other. He told you a bit about his life- about how much there was to grade. How he got the job. Little things- but little things only added up to how much you liked him. Even…even…no, you couldn’t you would never say it aloud. But your bedtime fantasies…you were more than mere friends…but that was only for fantasies.
You tried to let those regular Shakespeare classes comfort you. But finals were taking a toll on your sleep, and your health. You were so wound up and stressed, trying to read and perfect essays that you had trouble going to bed. Your brain kept churning- unable to think of anything else but your work. You couldn’t realx- you worked so hard to get into this school, this degree. If you didn’t pass then…you would be a failure and all that work to go to this school would be for nothing.
At least after a sleepless night, you had something to look forward to- to distract yourself. But even lately in those classes, you curled into yourself. The heaviness of your exhaustion and the jolt of your anxiety over finals in an unending cycle of misery. You were so…tired…and done…and drained…you knew it would pass with time…
After class, as everyone filed out, Professor Hiddleston walked over to where you slowly gathered your things. He held out a hand to you.
“What is it, Y/N? You’re usually smiling and happy here. But you seem very grave lately…has something happened?”
You shook your head.
“Not really just…finals…I want to do well. I can’t get C’s- I want to do them perfectly! I want to! I want this degree! Now I…I’m so scared of failing…I wanted this school so much, now I…I…” you began to mutter.
You felt tears wriggling out of your eyes, and your breath shook as you uselessly tried to hold them back. He handed you tissues from his coat pocket. You felt like a trashbag- crying in front of this fucking Greek God. But he looked at you kindly. You wiped your eyes. Snot threatened to release from crying and you blew your nose. Ugh, he would think you were especially gross after that. But his gentle smile did not change. You wrapped up the tissues and tossed them aside- then he handed you the little plastic package.
“Is it mansplaining if I give you some advice?” he asked.
“Oh, no…it’s not…” you said.
“Break your studies apart, Y/N. Ten little minutes at a time. A break. Then ten more. If you take time to focus, it will help you. Or if you make it fun and play music or make little drawings, then you have a picture as well…I know it means a lot…but if you rest, you will recover…and you must think smart, not hard,” he advised.
“Okay…” you nodded.
“Y/N, there are counselors here…they will help you and you don’t have to pay anything. They; 've helped me, and so many others, they should help you…” he suggested. He got out pamphlets from a corner of his desk to give to you.
“I’ll see one…Why are you so kind to me?” you asked impulsively, looking up.
He put his hands in his pockets, glancing down, and then back up.
“If I may be frank, you remind me so much of myself when I was a student. I had a thesis I had to write on Shakespeare’s problem plays…and it consumed me. I wish someone had given me that advice at that time-I only want you to suffer a little less. Don’t be so hard on yourself- like I was on me…”
You nodded up at him, adjusting the straps of your bag and gathering your things in your arms.
“And I’ll..I’ll make it fun- I’ll think of a reward for after…” you said.
He placed his hands in front of him, his lips tightening, and then in a rushed exhale, he spoke.
“Y/N…how would you…you…you like dinner? After finals?”
You perked your head up. Was this real? You blinked at him, saying nothing.
“Y/N…make me a bet…Go to counseling, break apart your studying, get through your finals, and do as well as you can…and I will take you out to dinner, how does that sound?” he asked.
You smiled at him, your heart beating fast. But yet…you were touched. You put a hand over your chest and released an exhale.
“Professor that…that sounds wonderful…” you answered.
“Ah, excellent. Now- is that a deal?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
You gave him a smile and a small laugh.
“It’s a deal,” you replied.
You managed to get a counseling session scheduled for tomorrow. You went inside, sat, met the kind therapist, and smiled as you vented and cried out your feelings. When you went back to where you lived and spent your emotions, you crashed onto the bed. It was the best nap you had ever taken.
You followed his advice. You broke down studying or writing essays and researching. You took more breaks. You had made flashcards with doodles for the tests and were catching on quickly. Your research was more fruitful and your essays were getting better in your eyes. You found you slept a bit better at night.
Each day as you sat in at 8 am, the Professor would smile at you and nod. You felt more like yourself again despite the looming deadlines. And they didn’t seem like a matter of life or death anymore.
Everyone knows the week before finals are hell. To study and work so much with no time off from usual classes. But… you would still miss that 8 a.m. Shakespeare survey- and the handsome professor in his suits.
“Y/N, don’t be scared- you will be phenomenal,” He gave you a wink that turned you into jelly.
Damn him. To think you would have dinner with him. You turned around to peek at him erasing the markerboard and glimpsing his curved bum, how his hair curled at the back, and his broad back.
Yeah, now that was motivation to do well.
You studied and wrote with enthusiasm. You completed it all in due time. The essays were to your satisfaction. When you settled at night, you cuddled his pillow. Remembering his smell- be it his shampoo or cologne, the mild, citrus scent. Fantasizing about him. Of dancing slowly at a formal event with you in an evening gown. Feeling his hand on your back and his head lowering down to touch your forehead. Of sharing ice cream. Being a damsel in distress for him to rescue. Then you thought of his body…. And the images changed to something naughtier. Wearing short skirts and showing up to his class. And him noticing. And lifting it up…
You conked right to sleep.
Finals week began. The entire campus knew it was stressful and went ridiculously out of their way to cheer up the students. But it was a lot of fun, you had to admit. Having dogs on campus to pet. Discounts on coffee. That Monday morning the cafeteria was packed with the free breakfast they offered. Once you brave the long lines for free food, you headed out to your first final.
Professors, to your amusement, dotted around the campus. If they didn’t have a class to be in, they were handing little care packages while dressed in silly costumes. The sight amused you and made you smile.
Then walking up, you turned to the right and jumped at the sight with a happy, surprised gasp that became laughter. Professor Hiddleston himself wore a light, frilly tutu made for girls a quarter of his age over his pants, little costume fairy wings over his shirt, and had a headband with little stars on top like ears.
He turned towards you and his face turned bright pink.
“Professor Hiddleston! What is this?!” you asked.
He opened up his arms to present his silly costume.
“We’re doing our anti-stress events! I am here to provide you with help with your stress!” he announced theatrically.
You put your hands akimbo and surveyed his costume up and down. If the class knew, they would lose it.
“And you’re doing it?!” you asked.
“Why not! I’m not a stick in the mud all the time! I can have fun!”
You laughed again.
“I should take a picture and send you to the group chat of our class!”
“I don’t see why not!”
He posed as you took a picture.
“And how are you feeling?”
“I feel better! Much better now- I feel like I’m ready…”
“Good! It will be done soon! A bit at a time!”
He handed over a stress-free care package. Exchanging smiles, you continued by with a lighter step in your shoes.
You went to every test outside of the pre-written essay. You knew what to do as you wrote short essays for the tests. You didn’t completely panic and wrote them as well as you could. When it came to every exam, you felt you knew and understood the material. The week flew by.
Sure enough, on that Friday, with shaking hands and a turning stomach, you looked up your grades. Taking in a breath right when the clock hit noon, you tapped a shaking finger on the mouse. The link buffered on your computer to view them. Then it lit up with revelation.
You passed them. You passed them all. In fact, you did very well.
Your heart was racing but—you realized…you didn’t have his number. Only his email address. With the still nervous feeling…you emailed him, your professor.
“Hello Professor,
My grades were announced- and they’re all spectacular. I passed all of them. So…you made that promise…are you available for dinner?”
You sent it off. You could only ruminate for five minutes- his response was quick.
“Of course, dear Y/N…
Here’s my number below… Meet me in my office. The parking lot isn’t far from it.”
You managed to text him immediately. You were giggling and pacing your room like a high schooler as your phone buzzed with his responses. You re-read them as you paced about with your phone in your face. The high of your crush floating you into the clouds. You were going to go to a nice restaurant- one wasn’t finalized yet, but something nice. And that meant you had to look the part!
You were so excited. You made sure your makeup was how you liked and that your hair looked clean. You put on a part dress-one with a shorter skirt. It was too perfect not to. It was cut only a little low to show some mild cleavage. The collar was wide enough so that it showed your collarbones. It was nice, but flirtatious and romantic. It hugged you in a perfect fit while making you feel amazing and sexy.
Sure enough, you went over to his office. The place was abandoned. All offices and buildings on the Friday of the Finals are in the early evening. You walked over and knocked on the door.
He opened the door and your heart almost stopped.
He was lovely. In his suit. His curls and that slutty goatee combed. Smelling fresh and clean. He still was in his blue suit- bringing out the blue in his eyes. Loving, beautiful.
“Ah, Y/N- please, come in,” he welcomed.
You followed suit. He closed the door. There was a second where you just looked at each other. Despite his goatee, you saw him biting his lip.
“Now, how about that dinner, Y/N…” he offered. “There’s La Gardeniera-suitable. A nice place for a special occasion as this…”
You gave him a shrug.
“I don’t care…anywhere…” you replied.
“Anywhere? ” he asked.
He put his hands in his pocket and looked at you. It was a simple office- white and brown as many are. There was a bright window, the blinds turned over, as the setting sun’s rays fell over it. There was a small bust of Shakespeare and a pitcher with cups of water. His desk had a neat stack of papers, and annotated books all over it. Cozy and comfortable- like how he made you.
“I just…I want to be with you…I don’t mind. Take me to a McDonalds and I won’t care…” you went on.
“Y/N…I…me?” he asked.
“Yes, you! We don’t even have to eat or…to, uh…I just…” the words were failing you and you felt your heart pick up. You looked down at the floors and then back up at him.
“You want to…to be with me…” he walked forward curiously. But you did not retreat. Did not back away. You only met him in his blue eyes, welcoming him.
“Y/N…are you sure?” he asked.
He took a step closer. He was right before you. And you did not retreat. You met his gaze. So close. The tension between you.
“Professor Hiddleston, I am sure…I just want to be with you…anywhere…you just…make me happy…” you finally confessed.
“You make me happy too…” he murmured
He leaned forward, seeking permission. You gave a shaky nod.
Then he kissed you.
Something in you released. So long it was boxed up- now wild and free. He immediately took his hands and ran them up and down you and you held onto him in the kiss. Feeling him as he deepened it with the wet sound of lips. Grabbing onto each other, releasing what had been held for so long. He released and then kissed you-again, then again. Like he was drowning and you were air.
“Mphm- what-what were the grades?” he asked before kissing again.
You caught your breath and took a break still close to his lips.
“Passed them. Flying colors,” you reported.
He kissed you again, moaning into it. Then he broke it again.
“Well now…my little student…doing so well…” he rasped.
You grabbed him and heart racing you felt him kiss you. His facial hair scratched against you. He kissed you back. He backed you up.
“You’ve been…good…” he breathed, pressing you there into it. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders.
“Mphm- this feels…feels so nice…you’re a good kisser,” you whispered.
“I’m good at more than just kissing, my dear-”
He held you, pulling you close. He backed you to the door-holding you against him. He then reached a hand and turned over the lock. It was sealed with a click. His hands then returned to you. He cupped your cheeks, then it slid down your neck, and your chest, and then settled on your wasit.
“I’ve…I’ve…God, I’ve wanted you so much…I…I don’t know if I…think I can…hold back…my dear, I-I-if you’re not…not ready, I’ll-”
“I don’t want to leave yet- let’s wait for dinner-take me. Fuck me here, now,” you begged.
You didn’t need to say any more than that. ou shuddered. He found your skirt and touched your leg, lifting it up. Feeling your skin, cold from exposure.
“All this…is all for me now…”
His hand reached over your leg. His long fingers possessively gripped each bit of flesh. Enjoying it- feeling you for the first time. Treasuring you and making his mark- you were his and his alone. He wrapped an arm around you and lifted you up onto that door. You let out a sound He then took your leg and guided it to wrap around his waist, holding onto him. You were so dripping wet you could feel his pants brushing your soaked panties. He held you easily-so, so easily. Just muscle and wall holding you and keeping you in place. He managed to lift you up- keeping you up with how pressed he was to you. How warm. Keeping him on you.
Your lips crashed again. You kept touching him. One hand finally touching his hair- his beautiful, long curls. The other kissing into him. In his suit, he began to ground against you now that you had nowhere to go away- not that you would leave. He kissed you with tongue and fire. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, wet noises and messy, desperate need.
“Tom…Tom, I-” you murmured.
He touched your chin, shushing you.
“We’re still in my office, my dear. And you will call me Professor,” he said.
He reached a hand down- feeling hte seat of your soaked panties. Smiling from teh effect already.
“Yes…yes, I will…” you breathed out.
“Now- my little angel. She did so well…and she comes to me, so needy…so desperate-first for her finals and now for my cock-”
You held onto him, touching his tie. Pulling him up. You felt his erection stretching through his pants. The hooded eyes and soft voice, his hot breath. You gave him a smile- eager to have him.
“I’m going to rip your clothes off and fuck you senselessly- and I want you- I never heard a thank you- I want to hear your gratitude for how I take care of you in every way…how does that sound? Too much for you?”
“It sounds wonderful for me-Professor,” you purred in response.
He wrapped an arm to help you up and carried you- legs around his waist.
. He then backed you over to his desk. He kept one by you- so close, so close. He took a hand and shoved aside the books and papers. It didn’t matter- now there was you.
He pulled up your skirt. Desperately trying to find the zipper. Almost shaking in his long fingers. His erection seeping through his pants- he was so pent up.
“All that time. Wanting you. Feeling you near. Do you know how many nights I had to jerk off to imagine this- you! Seeing you- feeling you right there- my little beauty, angel, and siren at once.”
He shoved your dress off and down. Now in your bra and underwear. His hands went to under your straps- feeling them already- his bare flesh on your bare flesh. You were backed there.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you what?” he asked darkly.
“Th-thank you, Professor.”
He kissed you again. You were his little pet, his toy, his plaything. And you would please him- You held onto his shoulders. Grinding more into his body, He was still. Yet you heard his breaths, catching in his chest. He still remained clothed.
Then in a rush, he gripped your bra.
“You won't need these- not with me.”
With a strength that made you gasp, He ripped your bra in half. He breasted so fast, panting like a beast. Looking down at your breasts. Both large hands fondled them, moving them around.
“Th-Thank you, Professor,” you whispered.
“But there’s one thing- one thing keeping me- from what I need” he growled.
He reached down, and in a second, he ripped your panties apart again in half. You gasped at the feeling. The cloth in two- uselessly falling apart.
“No bra- no panties when I see you -easier access- do you understand…I have a need for you, do you get it-”
“Yes- yes, sir.”
“Close- but not it. You forgot. And you’ll be punished.”
He turned you around, so your bare ass was shown. He immediately spanked you hard- it clapped around you. You let out a shout.
“It’s thank you-Professor.”
“Thank you Professor!” you cried out, feeling the sting.
“And you will get it right!”
He spanked you again, harder. The momentum made you move against the desk, feeling your ass move with it. And feeling his greedy eyes all over your exposed skin.
“Th-Thank you, Professor!” you cried.
He pulled you back up but kept your back to his chest. He kissed your cheek, fondling you from behind, whispering in your ear.
“If you don’t want another punishment-Tell me what I am-”
“You-you’re my-my-”
The words failed you. He leaned you down again and spanked you.
“You’re my professor!”
He spanked you again.
“Say it again- and say thank you-”
“Yes- yes- thank you, Professor…”
He grazed over you. Feeling you. You were catching your breath. Dripping so hard. He put his hands against your inner legs.
“The more I do this- the more I see you, the more I’m with you, the more you- you torture me. I can’t stand it- I-I have to have you, Y/N- I have to, I have to-do you- do you want-”
You lightly turned your head over to see him and could have gasped.
He unzipped his pants and lowered them. Already his cock was large and twitching. It leaked so much, that his precum made you shiver. It drizzled down and made a path down his leg. You clutched onto the desk, smiling and bracing yourself.
“Yes- take me- take me on your desk, Professor…”
He smiled, and then his hand made you bend over it again. ‘
“Spread. Your. Legs.”
You were such a horny querying mess, he touched your legs so that they spread for him. Then finally, you felt him at your entrance, and inside.
You let out a long groan- and so did he. As he got in - inch by inch.
“Yes- yes all-ah!” you cried out as he got all of himself in you.
He eased you in at first. Your legs again over. He gave a few gentle, experimental thrusts. It was slow, even sloppy. Each intrusion, poking you inside. You were making an appreciative groan. You ground your hips further against him. The room was hot and smelled thick with sex.
“There…you can take…take all your professor's cock, can you?” he growled.
“Yes-yes I can..”
He then made a sharp thrust inside and you cried out.
“Oh!”
He then experimented- hips rolling towards your ass. You let out sounds like you never heard yourself make. He then had a hand to keep you down. To keep you down And then he began to pick up. Slamming into you. Keeping you still, close, on him.
“Nrg-nrgh- yes-there-fuck-there’s my-myfuck- good litlte student-nrgh-want to please me- hrng-begging-begging to-shit-yes-yes-darling-begging for me-”
You were moaning into it. Your body shakes forward and back from his thrusts. You felt yourself spiraling. Then he slowed. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. The pleasure was at a standstill, you caught your breath as you heard his hot voice right beside you.
“You have another order- cum only when I’m about to-cum when I tell you- yes?” he demanded
“Yes!”
“Yes, are you grateful!” He moved his hands to feel your arms.
“I am- th-tahnk you, Pr-Professor.”
He went back up and began to thrust again. Slow- then medium. You let out those pornographic sounds out as he did.
“Fuck- what you do to me, darling,” he breathed out.
He let out another gasp, his voice itching up in a groan and then back down. Then he slammed into you, letting out a loud voice.
“Who is going to let you cum? Who lets you cum when you’re a good girl?” he rasped.
“My-my- fuck-professor will- will let me-cum-yes!
“Not yet- not yet-mine is-if-fuck, it’s building.-”
He spread your legs wide and entered you. Then he grabbed your hips. He began to pound into you. The desk shaking- the wall quivering. Slamming against that wall with a thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. He whimpered your name. You clung onto it, your knuckles popping out of you.
“Yes-Yes you are-beautiful little student- you are-g-grateful- fuck.-tight-so tight- shit-”
He was so deep, just rutting into you. He was an animal. Pure fucking you into the desk You felt the itch of his suit- the deepness of it. The papers scrambling away- scratching you. The pure ecstasy of it.
“And” thrust “tell me-” thrust “tell me this”- thrust “darling-”
He laced a hand, it reached your folds. You let out a whimper. He dug around- two fingers in-already feeling you. God- you weren’t going to last. He wasn’t going to like it, but you weren’t going to last. You let out a whimper as you felt him inside you.
“What” thrust “ is it” thrust”- “what is it- good” thrust “good girls do- ”thrust
“They-they-they get to-to-to come, Professor-”
“Yes! Yes-you're at my-my limit-gods-gods- what you do to me-You’ve been good-so good- I can’t-I can’t-so cum, darling-”
He strummed you. And you let out another intense gasp. He was strumming you. His fingers making you more open, his cock in, out, in out. You felt it build- he played with your clit so much. Trying the right place, You felt it rise, but not there. And he kept thrusting. A frustration in his rasp.
“Yes- dammit- why won’t you now? Why won’t-won’t you cum?! Cum, dammit- cum- darling- fuck, fuck- god- yes, gods, I’m there…I’m getting there, cum, dammit- why won’t you cum…”
With a new fury, he pounded against you into the desk- the filthiest, most intense thing you felt. The pleasure building up you, going up, up about to be out of control.
“I’m- I’m going to-I’m going to-I’m going to cum, professor I-I-I”
It would spiral up, yes, but you had yet to reach it. You ground your hips further, moving from his thrusts, as his fingers were there- finding you at the still of your high and just needing your brink.
“Yes- God, yes-cum, darling-I order you, your professor orders you-Yes- yes, cum, girl, dammit- do it, cum, darling- fuck, I’m about to- do it- CUM!” he deamnded like a yell.
With a last shout you cried- “PROFESSOR!” and you came.
Spiraling down from the pleasure. It broke into chills over you-your voice left you and yet your heart was racing. You could feel him gushing into you and yet you could also feel the cum from your own body between your legs, on his fingers. He panted. He then moved you over. You saw his hair wild and arrayed. You moved it out of his face.
He looked at you with a sweet smile then took your hand and kissed it. He sat you down on a chair and took off his jacket- putting it over you like a cape. Then he went over and got you a glass of water from the pitcher.
His voice had softened, he kept touching your face, checking for any accidental bruises or marks.
“How are you? Are you…are you alright, Y/N? I didn’t go too…too-”
“You were perfect- it was perfect,” you replied with a smile. The water wasn’t super cold- but it was fresh.
He let out a sigh of relief. He then cupped your cheek.
“You should see yourself how I see you. You’re glowing. Absolutely glowing-I had only hoped you were…were happy with it…”
He looked down at the ruined bra and panties.
“I’ll buy you another…” he muttered in apology.
“Oh- an orgasm and dinner and new bra and panties? You spoil me rotten already!” you teased.
He gave you a kiss on the forehead and then he helped you back to dressing.
“Here-we could…go back to my place and order something. At this rate, it might get late. I’m not that good of a cook-I was hoping a restaurant would impress you. I hope you don’t mind…”
“How could I, Professor?” you added, taking your hand in his.
#fics#carrie writes#professor fics#prof! tom#prof! tom hiddleston#professor! hiddleston#professor hiddleston#tom my beloved#requests#prof! tom hiddleston x reader#professor hiddleston x you#smut#smut fanfic#smut fanfiction#tom hiddleston x reader#I can't believe I wrote this#professor hiddles#professor tom hiddleston#professor fic#professor hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston au#tom hiddleston x y/n#tom hiddleston x reader fic#tom hiddleston#loki#ao3 writer#loki fic#tom hiddelston x reader#tom hiddelston imagine#tom hiddelson
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teacher tom 😍
• - MY GOOD GIRL - •
PAIRING(S): prof tom riddle x student fem. reader
WARNING(S): jealousy, smut, teacher x student, extreme dominance, age gap, pet names during sex.
SUMMARY: you and prof. tom are in a secret relationship and when one of his students invites you to the yule ball in his own class, he doesn’t let that slide and punishes u for it.
A/N: thank you smm for all the support on my last post🫶, if anyone wants to be tagged in any of my posts lmk and if you have any ideas requests are open💗.
——————————————————
This year at Hogwarts, you got a new DADA teacher, as usual, professor tom. He was handsome, he was tall and muscular, his features all defined, one look at his eyes and you’d pass out. He was calm, but wise. He was smart and quiet unkind, he was never disrespectful though.
You couldn’t help but feel a bit of attraction toward the man, and to your surprise, you would always catch him glancing at you. He would also find ways to talk to you, after tests, during class, after class, whenever he saw you in the hallways, etc…
One time he asked you to stay after class, so you admitted your feelings and he kissed you. Thats how you got in a 4 month relationship with your DADA professor, however, you couldn’t tell anyone because he was a 24 year old Slytherin professor, and you were a 7th year Gryffindor student.
You get to class early today, your last one, defense against the dark arts (DADA), and to your surprise, ur early. You take a seat next to Hermione and Cormac walks up to you.
He had a big crush on you, and everyone in the school pretty much was aware of it, students, professors, all of them.
“Hii pretty girl” he spoke with a grin. “Heyy” you reply back nicely. “So the yule ball is coming around, and if you don’t have anyone to take you, i am more than happy to take you.” he said. “Of course Cormac, I’ll definitely think about it” you smile at him. “alright beautiful” he smiles back then he coughs.
Then he coughs again, and again, and again, and again, and he’s choking! He’s on his knees, coughing hysterically. Everyone gathers around him trying to stop the cough and as your eyes dart around the room, you find professor tom stood at the door, mumbling something, he was the one doing this!
You had to make it stop, “Professor!” you call out. “Help him, he just began choking” just then, Cormac stops choking and tom sprints across the room to him. He kneels down next to him, “just take him to the medical wing, he’ll be fine” this man was insane.
Just then, Neville and Ron help take him out of the classroom and the lesson begins. The whole time, your bf doesn’t look at you at all. Was he avoiding you?
Class finishes and you decide you wanted to talk to tom about this. You were the only student who knew where his room was so you decided to go and speak to him later tonight. The time came around and you got going. The halls of Hogwarts were quiet and empty at this time, dark and silent.
You arrived and knocked on the door, he opened the door and his eyes widened at your figure. “Why did you come here?” he asks. “We need to talk” you reply as you step in the room.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS TODAY?? ARE YOU OUT OF UR MIND?? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO THE POOR GUY, HE WAS STRUGGLING!” You speak, scream is more like it. “He fucking asked my girl to go to the yule ball with him.” He states.
“He doesn’t know we’re together!”. you point out. “The only person you’re going to the yule ball with is Neville!” “My cousin, seriously?” “Yes and i don’t want anyone else coming near you within a 50 mile radius or i will rip their intestines out one by one.” he’s still speaking calmly, he never shouts, never.
“Fuckk.. why would you even say you’d think about it beautiful, don’t you know ur mine?” He gets closer. “Im gonna have to punish you.” He then places his hand on ur waist and pulls you in. He kisses you hungrily and slips his tongue inside, fighting with urs for dominance.
You wrap ur arms around his neck as the kiss deepens, he then picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed. “Im gonna fuck this tight little pussy till you can’t walk, till everyone in Hogwarts hears my name, till Cormac learns to not touch whats not his.”
Just then, he begins removing your shirt as you stood in front of his bed. He takes his time, one by one, he removes your bra, pants, then panties.
He then pulls you in for another kiss and makes you sit on the bed, he kneels between ur legs, and he begins trailing kisses down your collarbone until reaching your breasts. He begins pleasuring both of them, starting with your left breasts. He leaves kisses all around your breast and then starts sucking on your tit.
He sucks hard, twirling his tongue around ur tit, cupping your other breast in his hand. He then moves to your other side, pleasuring it similarly. He cups the left one and pinches your tit between his fingers. You let out different sounds and moans of pleasure, loosing urself to the heat of the moment.
After he’s done, he pushes you further on the bed and he spreads ur legs, “now, tell me, whose wet pussy is this for?” he questions. “Y-yy-yours, tommy.” “Thats right, now let me show you why it’s wet, for me.”
He immediately dives in like a starved man and starts eating you out. He licks ur folds, twirling his tongue, pleasuring you well, very well.
You grab his hair, tugging at it. “Tommy, im so close,” you admit. He mumbles a quick mhmm into ur pussy and it sends shivers down ur spine. That was ur limit, you slam your hand on ur mouth, stopping urself from screaming, as you come into his mouth.
He smiles into ur pussy and swallows all you have to give, he then licks you clean before pushing two fingers in without any warning. You moan at the feeling and he immediately begins moving his fingers inside you, slowly.
He then adds a third finger and starts speeding his movement, “you will not go to the ball with anyone but neville, do u understand me.” you nod in response which he doesn’t approve of.
“Use your words darling” “i.. i won- i wont go to the ball with anyone b..but Neville” “my good girl” he says before kissing you again. This time it’s slow yet still hungry, full of lust. “You have another one in you, don’t you?” You nod and once again he sighs in disappointment. “Use ur words love” “I d.. do” you answer.
He then proceeds to speed his movement and you come for the second time tonight. He removes his fingers and shows you ur cum on his fingers before licking them clean.
You get up to the bathroom to clean urself before returning back to ur dorm. You could hardly walk, but once you got there, you turn the hot water on and jump in the shower.
A few seconds later, tom walks in with you, already stripped out of his clothes. You turn to face him and smile at him. Once he steps in, he speaks “wait here pretty girl, i said im gonna fuck u till u cant walk, till everyone hears my name, till Cormac understands to not touch whats not his, i don’t think I’ve done that yet, have i?”.
You shake ur head at him and he makes you face the wall. You feel him get closer and he breathes next to your neck, heat floods ur body as you feel his breath.
“Now listen to me, im gonna fuck you real good, but im going to need you to beg me for it.” he whispered. He then lines his throbbing, hard cock with ur entrance and starts kissing you. The kiss is heated and slow, ur tongues fighting for dominance.
“Come on riddle..” you say between kisses. “Come on what?” he teases. “Fff.. fuck me tommy please. I need you inside me, now!” “One more time beautiful.” “Fuck tom, get inside me now!” You arch ur back a bit, and to that, he smacks ur ass before pushing in you.
“Fucking brat” he spoke as he sped his movements. You cover ur mouth, blocking any sounds from leaving it when tom removes it. “I wanna hear all the pretty noises you make when i fuck you like a little whore.” To that you moan which makes him go even faster.
“Tommy.. can i c-cum p-p-p-please?” “Your third time tonight? Impressive darling, go ahead.” He speeds his thrusting, and grabs the shower head, he turns it on and he points it toward ur pussy and he rubs circles around your clit.
Just like that, you scream as you come, your nails piercing tom’s skin. “Fucking hell, doll” you both chuckled.
You later finished ur shower and ran back to ur dorm as u realized it was past curfew already.
#tom riddle#harry potter#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#slytherin boys#slytherin
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— AUTORIDADE
fem reader x mark lee
avisos: professor!mark (de inglês), diálogos inglês, tensão sexual (?), dirty-talk, bigdick, uma menção a spit, professor de faculdade☝️, ambos maiores de idade apesar da idade não especificada.
notas: isso aqui foi um surto após eu escutar uns áudios do rum (um dos primeiros dele é ele sendo tutor de matemática) e pensei “ok… mark fala inglês… mark professor de inglês….” então tá aqui essa confusa pouca vergonha. btw inspirado também numa época onde eu tinha um crush no meu antigo prof de inglês, a última vez que falei com ele foi em 2023 depois de me formar (ele era tãooooo legal…). perdão pelo inglês porco gente ☝️
Mesmo que nunca tenha conversado o bastante nas aulas avançadas de inglês, sua gramática era ótima, você era aplicada de um jeito irritantemente técnico.
O término das aulas era sempre um problema. Não porque depois de todo um estudo você teria que ir pra faculdade, mas sim porque, seu professor de inglês, Mark Lee, te deixava nervosa.
Ele era excepcionalmente didático, a pronúncia perfeita te deixava de pernas bambas; tinha o modo descontraído, como ele conversava com os alunos dos mais novos aos mais velhos, acompanhando o ritmo de todos, ele arrancava o inglês de qualquer um sem que percebessem. Era muito divertido ir para as aulas, a dinâmica te incentivava…
E o professor também.
Mais um final de aula, alguns alunos tiravam suas dúvidas, mas você esperava que o professor Mark prestasse atenção somente em ti. Talvez soasse menos humilhante, não gostava de toda essa atenção.
Você permaneceu sentada na cadeira, as pernas expostas roçando uma na outra, aguardando pacientemente os últimos dois colegas de turma saírem. A mente viajou um pouco, parecia desatenta.
Mark olhou pra você, deu um gole na garrafa d’água mas não desgrudou os olhos de ti, em silêncio veio ao teu encontro, perguntou “Algum problema, querida?” e você soltou um sorriso, desviou os olhos e achou fofo todo carinho… O seu quarto ano com ele.
— Sim. — você respondeu — Na verdade, tenho algumas dúvidas sobre a prova de admissão…
— Mesmo? Não acho que seja um problema pra você.
— Por que não seria?
— Apesar de não falar com o restante da sala, você é incrivelmente boa em gramática, suas notas são boas.
— Não sei… talvez eu precise de um incentivo, quero aprender a falar como você, Mark.
Vocês, mais uma vez, trocaram olhares, longos, talvez um tentando ler a mente do outro. Mark mostrou-se pensativo, suspirou, balançou a cabeça e valseou pela sala, trancando a porta. Um calor incômodo tomou conta do seu corpo, você prendeu o ar no peito, a barriga revirando.
— Quero que olhe nos meus olhos enquanto conversamos, certo? Quero respostas só em inglês.
— Claro, o que você quiser professor.
Sua resposta foi ambígua, um tom sexual que deixou-o enervado. Ele sentou-se ao seu lado, fez algumas perguntas e você respondeu-as de maneira muito direta, ainda que tivesse certa hesitação na sua voz.
Tudo em você, no seu comportamento pareceu satisfazê-lo.
Então você se levantou e caminhou pela sala o observou de longe, sentou na mesa dele e esse silêncio o indispôs. Mark te seguiu, parou de frente para você, as palmas dele nas laterais da mesa, fechando seu corpo no dele; o peito dele batendo contra o seu. Muita intimidade.
Um arrepio corroeu o sustento das tuas pernas, você quase gemeu ao sentir a tensão que se formava debaixo da sua saia, entre vocês dois.
“...You look like you’ve got something to say” Mark disse, sussurrando. Você fechou os olhos, revirou por baixo das pálpebras e soltou o ar quente pelos lábios, tocou a gravata dele suspensa no ar. Você pensou…
E repensou várias vezes.
“Want you to teach me how to dirty talk.”
Mark te observou, o brilho nos olhos dele demonstravam certo controle. Você sentia que estava prestes a tombar na mesa com a proximidade, seus lábios quase se tocando, o hálito roçando um no outro.
“Is that why you spend so’much time looking at me, pretty? Fantasizing about your professor?” Ele te perguntou e você pareceu muito confusa, entendeu exatamente o que Mark disse mas não respondeu. “You’re so fucking naughty, my dear.”
Aí, suas pernas prenderam a cintura dele, os dedos dele te tocaram e você gemeu, desfez muito rapidamente o nó da gravata, o beijou ansiosa e Mark retribuiu, com fome. Ele te deitou sobre a mesa, brincou com o elástico da sua calcinha e você soltou uma risada, murmurou “Porr—” mas foi interrompida.
Mark apertou suas bochechas, cuspiu na sua boca e te relembrou “English, sweetheart.” Você engoliu, obediente.
Você sentiu uma umidez na sua calcinha, amolecida, escorregou pela mesa e mudou sua posição, seu rosto em contato com a madeira, esfregando a bunda contra a ereção de Mark.
“Fuck… you have such a pretty ass, sweetie” você soltou mais um repuxar zombeteiro, Mark expôs sua bucetinha e voltou a te esbanjar elogios, com um dos dedos, provocou sua entrada traseira “Your pussy is dripping, babe… hmm bet you wanna me to fuck that juicy ass of yours too.”
“Mark… don't tease me, just… just— fuck me already.” Você choramingou, sentiu uma das mãos dele nos seus seios, explorando cada parte do seu corpo.
As palmas dele correram para seus lábios, te mantendo quieta, ele esbofeteou a pele da sua bunda, te impondo regras “No, sweetie. Repeat with me, professor Mark, I’m the authority here” e você moveu a cabeça, mordeu os lábios e afirmou “Oh— ‘kay professor Mark”.
Concentrado, Mark voltou a brincar com suas dobras, o tom cínico da risada te fez contrair levemente, ele rosnou, espancou seus lábios melados antes de forçar sua entradinha com o pênis dele, que, até então, você não tinha visto.
Você choramingou desesperada, a espessura deixando suas pernas tão trêmulas que Mark achou patético seus joelhos um contra o outro.
“You’re so cute, baby. That tight cunt of yours getting me soo well…” Você rebolou fortemente contra ele, sentiu os dedos perfurando a carne da sua bunda, precisava de mais “M’gonna be addicted to this pussy, right? Shit— Bet you can't even think straight right now, just love being destroyed by my huge cock, yeah?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Yeah, yeah, P-Professor.”
“You’re so fucking cockdrunk, whore.”
Mark praticamente afundava sobre sua bucetinha, sentia suas paredes o esmagando sem que você notasse o aperto e umidez. Suas pernas já não aguentavam mais, ameaçando ceder, a porra e seu mel sujando o chão, espirrando contra a calça dele e sua pele. Vocês dois eram uma completa bagunça.
“Mark..!” Você exclamou, o orgasmo te deixando em um só fio de voz, a garganta seca. Mark sentiu seu canalzinho o apertar, ele praticamente enterrou o pau em ti, partindo seus lábios ao meio, completamente alucinado, vendo o entra e sai frenético, sem que houvesse pausas. Ele soltou um gemido áspero, imobilizou seu quadril e permaneceu dentro de ti, seu clitóris contorcendo sem ter sido tocado.
As têmporas estavam suadas, o cabelo preto desfeito junto com os botões da calça e camiseta. Mark te olhou e mais uma vez você pode ouvir aquela risadinha gostosa, malandra. Ele serpenteou os lábios até seu rosto, beijou sua boca e disse “Let me help you.”
Você aceitou quieta, a saia cobrindo parcialmente a visão das suas pernas arruinadas.
— Cadê minha… calcinha…?
Mark te olhou, o português alto e claro relembrando o antes da situação. Ele mostrou o pedaço de pano, guardou no bolso e você corou, gozadora..
— E papéis pra… sabe… me limpar?
— Que? Absolutamente não.
— Como assim?
— Você vai ficar com minha porra guardada aí, até chegar em casa, querida.
— Mark–
— Me deixe falar o restante — Ele se aproximou, ajeitou a gravata, colocou os fios para trás, como se nada tivesse acontecido.
— Sim.
— Se você passar na prova de admissão, eu fodo seu cuzinho.
#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#mark lee smut#mark lee imagines#nct 127 smut#nct 127 imagines#nct smut#nct imagines
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Professor Tom Riddle x male reader where Tom becomes some sort of a parental figure to reader? Pretty please with a cherry on top? 😔🤞
Injured - Prof. T. R. x platonic male!Reader
A/N: I hope this is along the lines of what you were thinking of. I had a really hard time coming up with some Prof. Riddle fluff for some reason. It’s unedited, with no use of Y/N
CW: mentions of injury, boasting, platonic banter, fluff
503 words
“Professor!” You immediately brighten as Professor Riddle makes his way through the labyrinth of hospital beds. “I almost thought you wouldn’t show up!”
You’re Tom’s favorite student; an overachieving boy with a bit of a prideful personality, just like him. It makes you shine in the classroom, but pale in other areas.
Such as your quidditch skills.
You’re in the Hospital Wing for an injury to the ribs after a particularly grueling quidditch game. You’ve been in for a few days, and Tom has shown up at least once each day.
It’s becoming a bit of a regular thing, him coming to visit you. You’re sure you’ll miss it when you’re healed.
“How are you feeling today?” he greets you, moving to sit in the chair next to your bed. “You look much better since yesterday.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug dismissively, then wince at the pain in your ribs. “What can I say? I’m a fast healer.”
Tom’s mouth twitches in amusement. “Quite on the contrary, you heal slower than the rest of your team.”
“Well, I’m the one who took a bludger straight to the ribs.” You cross your arms defensively, careful not to disturb the bandages around your chest. “Maybe it’s a wound that needs more time to heal.”
“Maybe…” He arches an eyebrow, a sure sign he’s about to tease you. “Or maybe you’re not the best at everything.”
You gasp, then cough a little as the sharp inhale sends starbursts of pain through your ribs. “Don’t you dare! I am the best at everything I do! I am the ultimate champion at life!”
Tom coughs into his fist, clearly trying to hide a laugh. “Oh, are you?”
“Don’t deny me my title! I will defend it with my life! It is mine by divine right!”
You’re fully prepared to go off on a rant about just how awesome you are, when a look from Madame Pomfrey shuts you up.
“But,” you mutter hastily, “I’ll do that some other time.”
Tom chuckles, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “A wise choice. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”
You grin. “Thanks, Prof. You always do know how to cheer me up.”
He gives you an amused smile and settles back into his chair. “I brought the next book in the series you’re reading, if you care for me to read it.”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! That would be great!”
You lie back in your bed, getting as comfortable as you can as he pulls out the book. As he begins to read, you close your eyes, letting his smooth, engaging voice wash over you.
Before you realize it, you’ve fallen asleep, dreaming of a quidditch game where you win the House cup and achieve victory for your team.
Tom watches you sleep for a moment before getting up. He leaves the book by your bed, turning to leave.
With a nod to Madame Pomfrey and one last watchful look over you, Professor Riddle leaves the Hospital Wing, secure in his knowledge that you are healing just fine.
#tom riddle#professor tom riddle#male reader#platonic reader#divider by cafekitsune#reader is from an unspecified hogwarts house#tom riddle x male reader#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#professor tom riddle x reader#professor tom riddle x you
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New teachers at School 🏫❤️
Pairing: Prof!Tom Hiddleston x Student!Reader
Summary: In a world where academia meets unexpected romance Y/N finds herself captivated by a brilliant and enigmatic professor, Tom Hiddleston. As they navigate through the complexities of academia, a deep connection begins to form between them, transcending the boundaries of student-teacher dynamics. Amidst the exhilarating lectures and intimate conversations, Y/N discovers facets of Tom's personality that extend far beyond his reputation as an esteemed professor. Together, they embark on a journey of self-discovery, challenging societal norms, and ultimately unraveling the delicate threads of their own hearts. Will they succumb to the forbidden allure of their connection, or will they choose to tread a path that defies all expectations? This fanfic delves into the emotional labyrinth of their evolving relationship, as the line between student and teacher blurs, and love ignites in the most unexpected of circumstances.
Series Masterlist
🏫❤️ Chapter 1
🏫❤️ Chapter 2
🏫❤️ Chapter 3
🏫❤️ Chapter 4
🏫❤️ Chapter 5
🏫❤️ Chapter 6
🏫❤️ Chapter 7
🏫❤️ Chapter 8
🏫❤️ Chapter 9
🏫❤️ Chapter 10
Taglist:
@holdmytesseract @dishahaldar@lotsoflokilove23 @eleniblue @clevergirl@jennyggggrrr @imlokisgloriouspurpose
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can someone please write a prof!tom wlaschiha x reader - I don't have any inspo for it other than the idea itself
if nothing else, I will take prompt ideas for it and will take 2-3 business months to complete it :)
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Head Scratches || Prof T.H.
Summary: Soft funny witty Prof!Tom just wants you to scratch his head while he grades papers. Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: a student teacher relationship, both parties consenting and of age. Lots of mentions of sex but no sex.
Word Count: 937
Read more here and request something here
The couch was where you and Tom always seemed to end up. The end of the day when you were both exhausted you curled into each other, in the safety of each other's hold. In this time you would do the things you didn’t want to do alone, a show that you were both barely invested in playing quietly in the background as you did your separate tasks. It was typically you doing your school work, often something for Tom’s class, all the while teasing Tom relentlessly about how much you hated the assignment, and Tom would sit next to you, grading papers and reading discussion posts. That was exactly the situation that you were in right now, your legs crossed underneath your thighs with your laptop perched on your legs, Tom next to you, legs crossed as he still wore his slacks, the linen tightening around his thighs in a way that you were fighting not to be distracted by. His hands cradled a pile of papers, a red pen in hand as his eyes traced the words that lined the paper.
“Tommy” you whined, throwing your head back against the ledge of the couch, thudding softly at the force of your disdain, your voice drawing Tom from where he was lost in a student's amazingly written paragraph and making him turn his head towards you.
“Hmm?” a soft hum exits his thin lips, curled in, a habit something he had a habit of doing when he was concentrated.
“Why did you assign so much goddamn required reading?” you groan, twisting your head to look at him with your eyes in a playful squint, eyeing how his look of concentration broke into a bright smile. “And why did I fall in love and move in with you, only putting me in a situation where you can actually observe if I write it or not?” you add, leaning over to poke Tom softly in the middle of his forehead before letting your hand press back, pushing through his gelled hair, breaking up the stiffness as your nails begin to scratch over his scalp softly, Tom’s brown eyes fluttering shut.
“That ‘goddamn’ reading, as you called it, is for your education, love” Tom mumble softly as he cranes his neck, pressing his head harder into your hand like a cat when you pet its head.
“Fuck education” digging your nails slightly deeper into his skin, hoping it would pinch just a little but it resulted in a contented sigh that quickly turned into a disgruntled noise as Tom’s eyes shoot open.
“Fuck education?” he sounded affronted, as if you had wounded him but his face quickly changed. “More like fuck your educator!” He looked so pleased with himself and you couldn’t help but laugh at how witty he thought he was.
“Dr. Thomas Holland, how crass of you!” you shouted jokingly, pulling your hand away from his head and bringing it to cover your mouth in feigned shock.
“What? It's true!” Tom pointed out, and it was, it was indeed true, and it was good, but that was beside the point right then.
“Though it is true doesn’t mean you have to say it like that!” you were keeping up the act, having fun with the banter that you and Tom always seemed to slip into.
“Well just to bring this conversation full circle, I don’t know why you fell in love with me, but I am glad you did, the thing I do know, is, you moved in with me to fuck your educator even more” he murmurs, leaning in further and brushing his lips over yours in a tender kiss, but you pushed him back ever so slightly.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are” you once again emphasize by poking his forehead, an action that Tom spotted and acted accordingly, ducking his head so that your fingers landed on his scalp, scratching over his skin once again, a small moan of contentment rising from his chest.
“I think I am pretty fucking funny”
“Nah, you’re a pretty fun fuck though” you tease, drawing your hand from his scalp and returning your attention to your computer screen leaving Tom with a shocked look on his face.
“Um, I will have you know that I am the love of your life, much more than just a fuck” Tom affirms, pressing his lips to your cheek as you restart your reading.
“Fine, fine, yes, you’re the love of my life who is also a fun fuck, now let me get back to work, my professors got a real hard ass” you smile to yourself at your words.
“I think the phrase is ‘hard ass’ actually” Tom couldn’t fight the smile on his lips as at your complimentary joke.
“I know” you shrug, finding the sentence that you had left off on and starting your reading again but you couldn’t help but notice that Tom was still staring at you intently, drawing your attention away from your screen to look at him. “Can I help you?” you inquire softly.
“Yes, yes you can, you can keep scratching my head while I grade papers, it feels really good and I like having you touch me, even in the simplest of ways.” Tom mumbles, looking away, slightly ashamed of his request.
“And I like touching you in the simplest of ways” you smiled softly, burying your hand in his soft hair, dragging your nails of the skin, returning to your work as Tom returned to his, much more content with the situation or grading than he had been before.
♡Taglist♡
@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @evermoreholland @spidey-sophie @harmqnia @thehumanistsdiary @samaraaaaa @itscaminow @alinastarkrovs @marvelsbitch8 @celestialholland @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hollandsvogue
#prof tom#prof!tom holland#professor!tom holland#prof!tom x reader#professor tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland fluff#tom holland one shot#tom holland au#tom holland x reader#tom holland x gn!reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fanfic#tom holland blurb#tom holland blurbs#tom holland blurb request#prof!tom blurb
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Professor Tom x cheerleader reader ( part 2?)
- the reader goes and takes his exam, she decides to wear her uniform, she gets a good score on the test, and after class Tom gives her a reward
( sexual tension when he sees her in the uniform and then smut after class )
A/n: this was WILD to write, and i luv it. This is loooong, so prepare yourself!
Warnings: smut (+18, dni if you're a minor), oral (f rec), fingering (f rec), protected sex, little praise kink, little sir kink.
"Alright, people, we'll get started as soon as you're ready to take the test", Tom says as he prepares the amount of paper on his desk, flipping through them to make sure everything is set up for the first exam in the semester.
The students are taking their seats, a small crowd whispering and whimpering loudly as they nervously make their own preparation for the most feared day of the year.
Mr. Holland rests his arms, crossed over his chest, as he takes a look to the class before grabbing the papers, his eyes looking for a specific student on their own desire. He didn't want to even think about it, to make it more clear to himself, but he was looking for you. Miss y/n, his most brilliant student, always perfectly on time, was late today. He pondered about taking his time to give the exam, so he could give you a few more minutes to arrive, but he didn't want to be more unprofessional than he was already feeling like.
He sighed in frustration, but before he could start walking around the class to hand out the papers, the door cracked open and you walked in.
Tom's eyes flipped immediately at you, jaw tightening as soon as he looked at the way you were dressed to attend his test.
It wasn't exactly warm outside, but you were wearing your cheerleading outfit now, a tight short yellow skirt, an equally tight gym top and yellow socks that reached your knees, letting your thighs bare. It wasn't warm, yet you chose to wear the outfit that left little to imagination.
Tom's eyes widened, caught out of guard. You were naturally gorgeous, in your very formal and usual clothes, the ones you wore for classes, but right now... right now you were beyond anything he has seen in that classroom.
"Sorry, Mr. Holland", you smiled apologetically. However, there was a hint of a smirk on the corner of your lips, result of the joy you were feeling for your professor's reaction to your entrance. "I got lost on time"
Sure you could make the important test on time, but it wouldn't give you all the attention you wanted as soon as you stepped Mr. Holland's class. It took you the entire night to figure out that was what you wanted since you two changed words in his car, but when you finally chose to give it a try, you decided to wear that same outfit from practice, regard from the sweater you were wearing back then to protect you from the coldness. Now, you left your arms exposed, breasts beautifully hugged by the material of your top and even a small part of your stomach bare, since the skirt only covered to your waist.
Tom knew he should give you an advertence for being late, and he was sure that if it was any of his other students, he would have done it. But Tom also knew he treated you differently, and not only because you were his best student - also because he was attracted to you in many ways.
This is so wrong, he thought to himself, but couldn't help the words that was slipping out of his mouth.
"It's okay, Miss y/l/n. Take a seat, we're about to get started".
You do as you're told, taking the nearest seat to his desk, the one that usually people avoid to not get so close to the professor. The small crowd of girls that were always excited to watch Mr. Holland in his classes and always made sure to seat close to him, now were in the back, too scared of the exam to pay some attention to the hot man.
You were fine with it. After studying a whole night, you were confident you were going to do well.
Mr. Holland handed you the paper and couldn't help but exchange look with you. Your legs felt weak for a moment, staring into those beautiful bright brown eyes, but you regained some composure before concentrate on test again.
***
A week passed since your test, and Professor Holland was set to start his class sharply on time, as always. This time, you didn't wear your cheerleading clothes, but still got a bit more dressed up than necessary for class.
Mr. Holland saw the moment you crossed the door, a small smile covering your lips. He stared at it for good five seconds straight until you took your seat.
"Good morning, everyone!", he said, clearing his throat as he got up from his desk to start his lecture. "I already finished grading your tests, so I'm going to hand it to you with my notes by the end of this class".
You crossed one leg over another, too caught up on your thoughts about your professor to actually care about the class. You knew it was useless to struggle to pain any attention to what he was saying. Though his abilities speaking and explaining were undoubtedly amazing, Tom's charm was distracting itself, and even worse when he spent the whole morning eyeing you every now and then.
You weren't so convicted that there was something really happening there, but you couldn't help the excitement running through your veins each time he gave you a side look, as if he was trying to avoid it.
By the end of the class, you were packing your things, slowly, as you weren't excited at all to go to your next class. Most people did their way out of the classroom, only a few small groups being left. You've already received your test back, being extremely satisfied with your high score, though a lot of your classmates couldn't tell the same.
So when you got up from your seat and walked to the door's direction, you were surprised to hear Mr. Holland's voice.
"Miss y/l/n, can I please have a word with you about your test?"
You blink a few times, suddenly nervous with the subject. A lot of thoughts passed through your mind, asking yourself if maybe he made a mistake and your score wasn't that high after all. Maybe he thought that you cheated on the test, maybe-
"Miss y/l/n?"
Your heartbeat is fast by now, and you watch as the few students leave you behind with Mr. Holland facing you sternly.
You gulp. Damn, you think to yourself, he's going to warn me, I was staring at the man the whole fucking day. He's going to punish me for being such a-
"Yes, Mr. Holland", you walk to his desk, test on your hand, that is slightly shaky. Mr. Holland look at the paper and shows his hand so you could give it to him.
He's wearing his usual clothes - the only type of wearing you've ever seen him in - a black sweater, sometimes with a turtleneck, and some really nice trousers. Mr. Holland was always dressed up in a not very casual set of clothes, but you liked it. It matched his professional and intelligent look.
"What's the matter, Mr. Holland?", you can't help yourself from asking, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. "Is something wrong?"
He looked distracted for a moment, flipping through the papers, as his eyebrows lift an his eyes avert from your writing.
"No, no, Miss y/l/n. There's nothing wrong here", he smiled warmly at you, eyes bright as always.
You sigh in relief, but still don't get the point at why he called you after class. "So..."
"I was just going to congratulate you, for your grades. But I'm also really curious about how you deal with it all", he rests his index finger and thumb over his chin, the trace of his smile still there. "You know, cheerleading at day, brilliant student at night".
You take a few seconds to realise that was the casual tone he used with you in his car, while he drove you home. He was just being friendly, not professionally. He must have liked the talk you both had, and that caught you out of guard.
Because no matter the fact that you dressed up to his test to get his attention, no matter how much confidence you had walking in his class, right now, with his bright brown eyes staring at you, all you could feel was your knees going weak, your mouth slightly dry.
"Well, I got the best professor in the department, so... not so hard", you smile, tugging your hand on the strap of your backpack.
Mr. Holland chuckles and shakes his head, collecting the papers and handing it back to you.
"And how is the TA work going? Are you enjoying it?"
You bite your lip slightly. You wanted to tell the truth, that you were expecting to see him more while doing this, that it was one of the main reasons why you accepted the job, but you wouldn't dare to say it out loud.
"Yeah, it's great. Don't think being a professor is my thing, though, for all that matters. It's a valid experience", you shrug.
Tom shakes his head in agreement, and both of you fall silence, staring at each other. Your eyes slowly avert to his lips, his thin yet tempting lips. It's just a matter of seconds until he speaks again.
"So, you're free to go now. Don't want you to miss your next class", he says as he gets up from his seat to get his belongings together. You look at his hands working, the prominent vein on his arm showing, and gulp.
"Fuck, wish I could be dismissed from that one", you whimper without realising what you're saying. Mr. Holland looks at you with a cocked eyebrow.
"Watch your language, y/n, I'm still your professor", he says in a stern voice, but you can see the joy on his eyes. He's joking.
So you decide to play along.
Bitting your lips, you cross your arms over your chest, a sassy expression on your face.
"Then why are you calling me by my name, Mr. Holland?", you tease innocently, and he turns his head to look at you. Discreetly, his eyes go to your lips, the way your teeth are grazing over it, just like he wished he could do-
"Clever remark". He smirks. "But you've told me to, remember?"
"Right", you bounce back and forth on your feet. "Does it make us friends or something?"
Mr. Holland looks at you with a puzzled face, quite intrigued by your speech and how casual you sound about it.
"Well, that would not be very professional of me", he said, eyes not leaving your figure, slightly narrowed.
"But that's not something that would bother me, Mr. Holland", you smile. "And I'd never judge you anything but strictly professional, if that matters".
His smile widens. "Yeah, it does". Tom puts some papers inside of folders that he brought to the classroom. He paused, staring at the desk as if he was far in his thoughts. "Tell me, Y/N, is it really that weird if we get to like each other? I mean, more than a student gets to like her favorite professor?"
You heart loses a beat, not entirely prepared for the subject to switch so quickly.
"I don't- think so", you say as soon as you find your voice.
Tom's shoulder visibly relax. "Good. Cause I really like spending time with you".
He throws his bag's strap over his shoulder and look at you, who's standing a lot closer now.
"Can I ask you something?", you say, barely in an audible voice. Tom nods.
You can sense everything now - the heat radiating from his body, his not so regular breathing, the way he clench his hand around the strap of his bag as a reaction to your question. It's all just under your nose, waiting for his confirmation that what was going on between the two of you was real.
But maybe you didn't have to ask it. Maybe that's what would end up bringing you two to nothing but a blushing face. So you decide otherwise. You decide to take a step further and ignore the discomfort on your stomach that almost yells you to stop as an instinct. You swallow hard as you walk closer to Mr. Holland. He watches your every move cautiously, eyes travelling from your eyes to your hands and chest, and then your lips.
That's it, you tell yourself, he wants it too.
And as easy as it is for you to realise you had a big fucking crush over your English professor, you can see that he does like you too.
You drop your backpack slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. "If this is messed up, please tell me to stop", your voice is a whisper, but he can hear it, he can hear everything. He can hear your breathe coming harshly from your nose.
He hesitates, but at the end he knew he couldn't fight that anymore. Mr. Holland brings his hand to your waist and the other to cup your cheek. His bag is now on the floor, matching yours. There's a frown between his brows, deep enough to make it clear that he's going through an inner fight.
"That's okay", you say, looking directly into his eyes, a wave of confidence bringing the words freely through your lips. "I want it as much as you do".
Your faces get closer and closer, noses touching one another, and you start to close your eyes, too taken by the feeling of his touch.
"This is wrong", he whispers before swallowing.
You shakes your head negatively, inhaling the air that was filled with his scent. "No... just shut up and kiss me, Tom".
That was what he needed to bring his lips to touch yours vigorously, like he was holding himself much longer than just the couple of minutes the two of you spent together. You sigh as soon as you feel his thin lips hovering yours ever so slightly before clashing then together in a rhythmic slow burning kiss.
His presence was everywhere, his touch on your waist, still burning over the fabric of your shirt. His tongue makes its way to your mouth, finding yours.
The realization of the fact that you were making out with your professor in his classroom hit you hard, turning you on even more. Anyone could walk in and find the two of you in that state, your hands tugging on his curls, messing his once perfectly tidy hair, your lips fighting to feel one another in every way possible and your desperate whimpers every time Tom lowered his head to kiss your neck.
The wet path of his smooth kisses over the sensitive skin shivers in contrast with the cold air.
"Been dreaming 'bout this forever", Tom's accent is even thicker now, with his voice coming out husky. "Since you first talked to me, darling, since you first walked in my class".
You moan, unable to say something more, your hands clenching around the fabric of his sweater.
His face is now on the same level of your again, and when you feel his breathing hitting you, his hands cupping your face, you open your eyes slowly.
"I want you", he says it quietly, word by word in a slow flow, "But I want you to tell me if you want it too. I don't want to pressure you into anything, and I don't want you to think that I do this with my-"
"I do", you cut him off, too desperate to wait. "I want you, Tom"
Hearing you calling him by his name made Tom snap out of his own worried thoughts to concentrate on you and you only. He took your lips on his once more before saying in a quiet hurried whisper.
"Meet me in my office in five minutes. Not more, not less, just be there in five minutes".
His face held a serious expression and you couldn't help but nod quickly before he grabbed his bag, eyes never leaving your face, and walked out of the classroom.
You were left there, still out of breath, checking time up to count the most long five minutes of your entire life.
Thinking straighter, without your professor's mint scent filling up your senses, you couldn't believe that it actually happened. Only God knows how many times you caught yourself daydreaming of this day, of how sometimes you'd get yourself off by the thought of Mr. Holland having his way with you.
You walk out of the classroom and wait at one of the aisle's bench, holding your backpack tightly. The corridor was empty and you were thankful that no one was able to see your excited and nervous expression. By this moment, you wouldn't be able to hide it anymore.
So when your watch hit five minutes, you almost jumped from the bench and walked down the hall, looking for the stairs to the next floor, where you knew Mr. Holland's office was.
It was gladly at the end of the hallway. A very nice wooden board held the description "Prof. Thomas S. Holland", making your knees go weak at the realization that he was right there, waiting for you.
You almost knocked on the door, but thought it was dumb anyways, so you just turned the handle before entering the room.
Tom was standing by his desk, his back facing you. You could see the hard breathing he had by the way his shoulders were moving heavily.
"Please, don't tell you are overthinking it", you say in a low voice, closing the door quietly behind you.
Tom turns his head and smiles sweetly at you. "I'm not", he says.
You don't know what to do by now, so you just stand at the door, holding the strap of your backpack, that's hanging by your hand. Mr. Holland makes his way to you, taking his hand to cup one of your cheek, thumb caressing the skin softly.
"You're so gorgeous", he whispers.
The room is dark, only illuminated by the din light from a lamp on his desk. You can see everything, though, from his slightly moves to the small frown on his face. You flutter your eyes close as he lean into you, lips brushing over yours in a tempting way.
His hands travel to your waist, fingers deepening in your skin, making you whimper against his mouth.
You put your hands around his neck, brining him impossibly closer, and hear him groan.
Tom smashes your lips together, tongues not wasting time to collide in a passionate kiss. Yours fingers lock with his curls, pulling gently as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
"Shit", you moan against him, feeling the wet patch on your panties growing even more. Your walls are clenching at the thought of being so close to touch your professor inside his office.
Tom takes you abruptly, supporting your weight as he carries you to his desk, putting you to sit on it.
His hands are quick to undo the first buttons of your shirt. However, before he continues, his eyes search for yours, asking for approval, which you quickly give by shaking your head fervently. "Please", you whimper, squirming under your makeshift seat.
Tom smirks before continuing his work, the tip of his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your breasts as he does.
He opens your shirt, revealing the black bra that held your breasts tightly. Lowering his head, Tom lets a trail of wet kisses along the way from the base of your neck to your covered nipples.
"Please, Sir. The more I like this... I don't want foreplay right now".
Tom arcs an eyebrow at you, the pad of his fingers massaging each one of your nipples, pushing the bra's fabric aside.
"You know you don't have to call me sir now, Y/N", he says in a husky voice, a smirk in the corner of his thin lips. His eyes were glistening in pure lust as he saw you opening your legs further to get his body closer to yours. "But you want to, don't you? You like it, calling me sir. You like the thought that your professor is about to fuck you".
You bite your lip to suppress a moan, your core throbbing with desire simply for his words.
He grabs the back of your thighs and squeeze them, pulling your lower half into him. "Who would know that such a good student would be so fucking naughty", his hand goes up your bare thigh, getting closer to where you desired his hands the most.
"Please, Tom. Just- just do something". You beg him, as you watch your skirt going up, revealing your soaked panties.
Tom smiled wickedly, "Thought you wanted it to be sir instead". You're about to give him a wise answer, but then you feel his thumb pressing directly into your clothed clit, and swallow hard the lump that formed in the back of your throat.
"Damn it", you curse, opening your legs even more.
"You're so fucking wet", he states, looking to your center. You put one of your legs over the desk, allowing him to take a better look and to get a better position with his hands. "Bloody beautiful"
Tom kneels down on the floor, looking directly to your center, which made your pussy throb again in expectation. His breathing is so close to your heat that you can feel the shiver running down your spine as he gets closer.
"Is that okay, darling?" He looks into your eyes, asking for permission, and you nod yes firmly. Tom smirks, his lips connecting with your pussy. You release a moan just in right in time his tongue swirl around your entrance, teasing you.
He closes his eyes, feeling the taste of your sweet cunt filling up his senses. As soon as he fucks his tongue into you, you grab his curls, "Shit, Tom, just like that".
He moans inside of you, which made you roll your eyes back, hips bucking to create the even more friction between his tongue and your walls.
You couldn't believe that was actually happening. When most of college guys wouldn't give a shit about your pleasure when you were getting laid, there was your English professor, the most respected man in that department and also the most desired one, going down on you, tasting you like it was his last meal.
Tom puts one finger inside of you, while his tongue lap over your clit. Seeing that you adjusted pretty well, he brought another one. "Tom- I'm close"
You pull his curls tightly, bitting your lips when he hits just the right spot. "Fuck, fuck-"
"Shh, darling, can't make much noise, gonna get us caught", he said in a rushed voice, eager to bring his mouth back to you.
"Sorry, sorry", you said, bringing your free hand to cover your mouth and biting it, as you feel the sensation at the bottom of your belly, your swollen bud of nerves throbbing and showing you were about to come.
It's almost impossible to contain the stuffy sequence of pleasured sounds you released, but you try your hardest while Tom is still stimulating you through your high.
"That's it, I've got you, I've got you..."
You lean against the desk, trying to catch your breath, eyes almost closing shut. If that wasn't the best orgasm from an oral you've ever had, you didn't know which one it was. You could still feel your walls clenching around nothing, holding on into something to keep bring you back from your dizzy state.
"You alright?" Tom asks, a hint of worry on his voice as he smooths your bare legs. "We can stop if you want to-"
"No", you swallow, opening your eyes and shaking your head. "Just gimme a moment. This was- this was fucking fantastic".
Tom looked at you for a couple of minutes, his worried expression giving place to a smug one. He got up from his knees, helping you to take you foot off the desk and straight your posture. You smile at him, caught in the sight on his eyes. It was softer again.
In fact, Tom felt his heart racing inside his chest. He got the most beautiful view right in front of him. He had imagined this scene so many times he couldn't dare to admit, but none of them made justice to the reality, to the expression of pleasure on your face as you came.
"I'm okay", you say, putting your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms. It was defined, firm and so good to touch, you couldn't wait to take that stupid sweater off. "I want more. I wanna touch you", you drop one of your hand to his crotch, massaging his covered cock, which felt painfully hard. Tom groaned, bitting his lip not softly to cover his sound.
His hands came to your jaw, cupping your face as he leaned to kiss you softly on the lips. "I really would like to feel this pretty mouth around me, darling, but maybe another time, I need to be inside of you right fucking now".
You nod your head eagerly, pulling him closer to a kiss. Your hands were quick to undo his buckle, dropping his trousers to the floor. Teasing his a little, you took a handful of his cock on your hand through his briefs, pleased by the moan he released into your mouth. But that didn't make you take any longer to pull of the material, revealing his length completely.
By the time you saw his lower half naked, with his dick standing hard and red at the tip for you, the pre cum coming out already, you felt your mouth watering, and you knew that if it wasn't for the fact that you wanted to feel him inside you as soon as he wanted it too, you'd get down on your knees just to feel him wrapped around your lips.
Tom pumped his cock a few times, taken by the sight of you staring at him with so much lust on your eyes. He smirked, his cock throbbing on his hand.
"You like it, darling?", he teased, aligning his tip with your clit to rub a few time. His voice came thicker now, "Is it enough for you?"
You lean against his chest, bitting his shoulder to contain a moan, whimpering as you feel your bud aching for more friction. "Yeah, Tom. Please, please, just fuck me already", you cry out.
"Spread your beautiful legs for me then... yeah, just like that. Good girl". He uses his cock to hit your entrance a couple of times, the tip teasing you every then and now. And then he realised. "Shit, I don't have a condom here. Fuck, I completely forgot about-"
"It's alright-", you breath out, trying to speak without letting a whimper scape. "I've got one in my backpack, just- fuck, pick it for me, I think I won't be able to walk if I get out of here right now".
Tom cocks an eyebrow at you in question, and you feel your cheeks burning at his stare. "Do you always carry a condom with you during classes?"
"What? No! I just thought-", you didn't want to admit it out loud but you also didn't want him to think other things. "I just expected this to happen some day, alright? Judge me".
Tom's face turns into a smug expression again, a smirk making his way to his lips as he chuckles lightly. "So you really wanted us to fuck this whole time, eh?"
You roll your eyes and shove his chest slightly. "Oh, fuck you".
He took a grab of your wrists, firmly, holding you in place, licking his lips. "No, I'm gonna fuck you. By the way, you should've told me sooner, I'd be very pleased to make your expectations real". Tom brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, "You have no idea of how long I've been dreaming of this. Always walking in my class, in this office, wearing those tight jeans of yours... that day in my car, all I could think about when I saw you in that fucking clothes was that I wanted to take you right there, in the backseat. My best student, the most gorgeous girl".
As he speaks, you suck his thumb inside of your mouth, licking it like it was something else. He watched you amazed, his cock twitching in excitement. "How can you be real, Miss y/n?"
You smile, lips still wrapped around his finger, before letting it go and dropping a wet kiss before saying, "Get that condom, Mr. Holland, I can't wait much longer"
"Alright", he chuckles, before turning around and looking for your backpack, following your instructions to find the pack. Tom ripped it and wrapped the condom around him with ability, making such an effort to control his eagerness.
He came back to you, pumping his length a bit more again, though he couldn't be any more hard than he already was. "There you go, love".
You have to bite your hand again as soon as you feel his tip entering you. Your pussy stretch at it, and you throw your head back at the small pain and the pleasure. No amount of arousal could prepare you for this. Tom caught your expression and was slow enough to continue, substituting the pain for the pleasure, while rubbing your leg to distract you. "It's okay, I've got you", he whispered, pulling your lower half to sit in a more comfortable position. You breath out, not feeling a bit of pain now, just the greatest sensation of having his cock stretching your walls deliciously. Tom hissed as soon as he got entirely inside of you, trying to not be snapped out by the feeling your snug walls around him.
"Is that okay, love? Are you- fuck, are you fine?", he asked in a husky voice, feeling his throat tightening at the pleasure.
"Yes", you nod fervently, "Yes, please, move...".
Tom didn't waste any time to start moving, slowly at first. The feeling was too good to not lose yourself into it. He put his lips in your ear, whispering and grunting while taking himself out of you completely just to fit it all over again.
You held his body tightly, feeling the intensity of his moves, the precision that his hips held to slam right back into your pussy. But soon enough, both of you needed more than that, and Tom started to take a faster pace.
"Tom... oh, my God, yes", you let out a cry, throwing your head into his shoulder, which made him only move faster.
"Fuck, you so tight", he moaned, grabbing your ass cheeks all at once to bring you closer to the edge of the desk. He slammed harder into you, hitting spots that made your eyes roll.
"Yeah, darling, so good to me, such a fucking good girl letting me fuck you", the sweat on his forehead was beginning to form, but he didn't seem to feel any kind of tiredness, keeping the steady rhythm.
You spread your legs even wider, bending your knees so he could have a better angle. That was enough to make Tom take you in his lap, not daring to get out of you while he carried your body to the opposite side of the room, your back hitting the wall. He was going to fuck you against it.
You whimper, not being able to form any sentence as you felt the knot forming on your belly again. It was all too much, and then you felt the pad of his thumb over your clit.
"You look like you're about to burst, darling", he said, his breath coming in heavy waves as he thrusts his hips into you.
Your boobs were bouncing with the movement of your whole body, between your arms that were firmly holding onto Tom's shoulder to keep you from falling. It was a sight to be seen and Tom could feel his orgasm approaching as well.
"That's 'cause I fucking am-"
"Tom?"
A knock was heard on the door, making your eyes go wide. You bite your lips to refrain any sounds, your face writhing in pleasure as Tom didn't seem to care to stop his thrusts.
He was too focused on your high to stop and decided that he'd ignore whoever was outside, but the person didn't seem to let it go.
"Tom, mate? I'm off now, you still want to go to that pub?", It was Mr. Osterfield, Tom's best mate and one of the most well-known professors in that college. He was right in the other side of the door, and the thought that only a single sound from your lips could get you and professor's Tom caught made you clench around him.
Your lips part involuntarily, and Tom is quick to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you from moaning. He stares into your eyes as a sign to keep quiet, which you agree with one difficult nod.
He clears his throat and his hips loses rhythm, going back to the slow pace again. "Yeah, Haz, I'm grading some essays and will be out in a few. Just wait me in the parking lot".
His control gets you even more wet, the thought that he was fucking you and still talking to Harrison getting you to a blissful state.
"I can help you, if you want", Harrison insisted, which made Tom groan, burying his face into your neck.
"No, Harrison, I'm fine, I'll be there in a minute", he said sternly and the deep in voice made you clench again. Tom had his face writhing in pleasure and pain for not being able to fuck you harder and faster by that moment.
"What is that, man, c'mon-"
"Harrison, for fuck's sake, told you, you can go now!", he shot, his hands tugging on your skin hard, the rhythm of his hips painfully slow.
Mr. Osterfield mumbles something like "Alright, you dick", and you two heard the footsteps going away.
"Oh my fuck, I'm sorry-" Tom breathed out, taking his hand away from your mouth.
"Don't- just move, Tom, I'm begging you", you moan, bringing his chest closer to yours. He bites the skin of your neck and nods before going back to his previous rhythm.
"Goddamn it, you feel so fucking good. I won't last much longer, sweetheart"
"Me neither", you whimper. Tom brings his face back to watch you, smashing your lips together.
His pace is fast, both of your heart blasting inside your chests, chasing your high, before Tom leads this thumb over your clit and brush it so quickly and with so much precision that you can't help but cum at that very moment.
"Tom-", you almost yell, but Tom is quick to cover your mouth once again, this time with his own lips. It doesn't take longer for him to reach his orgasm too, feeling your walls hugging him tightly, begging him to come too. He kept thrusting his hips into you, ridding both of you through your orgasm.
"That's it, my girl... my best girl"
Your breath is coming in heavy pants, chests colliding in each other, the closeness between the two of you making you feel insanely safe and good about what you just did.
Tom has his hair clearly messed, and anyone could tell what he just did with you if just took a look at him. You weren't far from it yourself, skirt all rumpled and lots of red spots on your skin.
Your legs felt weak, and Tom helped you to put your feet back on the ground. He took himself out of you slowly, taking care to not hurt your overstimulated heat.
After discarding the condom and pulling his trousers back, Tom watched as you tried to clear your own mind to collect yourself together.
"Wait", he said before turning to his desk and taking some tissues from a package before walking back to you. "May I?"
You looked up at him, confused at first, and very surprised when you got the hint of what he meant.
"Uh, I can do it myself, no need to worry", you said sheepishly. Tom frowned and shook his head while getting down on his knees to wipe the mess between your inner thighs.
The both of you remained silent, not knowing what to say. You were afraid of his moment, of what it meant from now own and what changed in your relationship. After all, after fucking on his desk and getting to moan his name, he was still your professor.
Tom got up and discarded the tissues on the same bin as the condom. He stared at it a few seconds before saying in his usual playful tone, "Well, I gotta remind to get rid of it before anyone gets to clean this room".
You giggle, tidying up your clothes.
"So...", you grab your backpack, unsure of what to say next. "I think I should go now. Y'know, before someone gets suspicious".
"You don't have to", Tom is quick to say, but shakes his head before continuing. "I mean, you should probably go home, it's not going to look well if you leave my office so late, but... what I meant is that you can, y'know, come back".
"Oh", you blush, and then shrug. "You mean, this is not a one time thing?"
"I didn't want it to be", he admits, closing one of his hands in a fists, nervously. "Is that what you want?"
You nod a few times, staring into his eyes, and see as a smile makes its way to his lips. The contrast between this expression and the so confident one he held just a couple of minutes ago is incredible.
Then he adds a more serious tone to it, licking his lips. "It doesn't have to be here, though. Would you like to... go to my place? We could have a proper date, if you agree, and not only-"
"Are you asking me out?"
Tom swallows and before answering, he averts his eyes. "Well, I couldn't get more unprofessional than I already did, so I think there's no harm on it. Yeah, I'm asking you out".
You smile sweetly at his nervousness. That man just fucked you like there was no tomorrow and now he was shy for asking you to go on a date.
"I'd really appreciate that, Mr. Holland", you say. He looks up at you and relief washes his face.
"Okay. Okay, perfect, so... I'll message you. Well, through your e-mail, cause that's all I have. Unless you wanna give me your number, then I might-"
"C'mon, sir, we only fucked once, do you really think it's appropriate to have my number so early?" You joke, narrowing your eyes, hearing his charming laugh right away. "I'll keep my eyes on my e-mail then".
Tom smiles at you, nodding. You say a quiet 'see you', before turning around and getting out of the office, glancing at your favorite professor one more time before closing the door, both of you excited to your next encounter.
#tom holland#tom holland blurbs#tom holland imagines#tom holland smut#prof!tom#prof!holland#professor!tom#professor!tom smut#prof!tom smut#smut#prof!tom x reader#tom x reader#request
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Distraction - Prof!Tom Holland (smut)
Boy, do I love prof!fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: After years of being professor Holland’s student, the reader finally finishes her studies and joins the team as a young professor – allowing the two to finally give into their teasing.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, office sex, oral (f), gagging, some brief jealousy but mainly fluff and smut
Pairing: Prof!Tom Holland x fem!prof!reader (3.6k words)
“Morning (y/n)!” She was greeted with a smile, unable to bite her chuckles back as she greeted him. Her steps were slow, trying to accept that the office she had visited numerous times over the past years was now hers, well, half of it. (Y/n) sat her bag down on the empty desk, sitting down in the chair she had always claimed as hers, making herself comfortable in this very room whenever he had office hours. “It’s good to finally have you around as a colleague.”
“Thank you, professor.” For a second she had pondered over the title, wondering if she should still call him “professor”, and yet it felt wrong to use his first name, at least not when he hadn’t offered it to her yet.
“Please, (y/n), Tom’s just fine, we’re colleagues now after all.” Heat flushed through her, eyes momentarily flickering down to her bag, reaching for her laptop to place it down on her desk. It’d probably take her weeks to adjust to the new situation, still not fully realizing that she was finally allowed to teach at the university. “What’s on your timetable for today? Maybe we can grab lunch together, if you want.”
Tom leaned back in his chair, hand running through his curls as he watched her with his coffee coloured eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the giddiness thumping through her veins. (Y/n) couldn’t remember when her crush on the young professor had started, but by now it felt all too natural, one with her system, like a virus she’d never get rid of again. Back when she had been a student, (y/n) had chased any chance to spend time with him outside of his classes, finding her way to his office every single week to discuss new books, theories and problems. And Tom had always listened, sharing his own thoughts with the student he couldn’t help but marvel at.
“I’m teaching a class at eleven, but I’m free between one and three. Does that work for you?” She opened her laptop to log into the university database, opening the course she’d teach in the next hour. He kept watching her with a smile playing on his lips, a proud smile she couldn’t help but fawn over, wondering if he felt the same bond keeping them chained together. When she had been his student (y/n) hadn’t dared to flirt with him – not like the other students trying to gain his attention – but now the tide had changed, the waves kept rolling back onto the sandy beach they’ve been walking on for years.
“Works perfect. You know, I’m free till four, I could come watch your class.” For a moment she froze, eyes flickering down to the presentation she had prepared. Even though the mere thought of making a fool of herself in front of Tom left her heart racing, pumping hot, searing blood through her system, the thought of having him close would probably help her relax, guiding the students through an exciting class. “I remember how nervous I was on my first day, but I’m sure you’ll do just fine, with or without me there.”
“Well, we don’t want you to get bored around here all alone, of course you can come watch. But don’t distract my students too much.” He shot her a sly smirk, taking a sip of his tea. Tom wasn’t oblivious, could pick up on gossip all too quickly, hearing the words his students murmured about him, praying to whoever was listening that they’d get a chance with the professor.
“Me? Never.”
……
“Here you go.” (Y/n) murmured a soft “Thank you” to the waitress, watching her place both Tom’s and (y/n)’s orders down. He had his eyes set on (y/n), interrupted on his recap of her lesson by the waitress.
“So, I think you did really well, it won’t take long till you’ll take over my classes too, I’ll be jobless in no time.” Both chuckled, starting eating with their eyes meeting every now and then. No longer was her heart racing in uneven beats, no longer was she overthinking every word tumbling from her lips, somewhat relaxed around the smiling professor.
“I doubt that, we both know you’re the students' favourite. But I can’t blame them.” Tom shook his head, curls falling into his face, smirk ever prominent on his thin lips. His glasses perfectly framed his handsome features, adding a professional touch to his appearance, making him appear a few years older than he actually was.
“Can’t blame them, huh? Was I your favourite too, (y/n)?” He was teasing her, and was well aware that he had been the one to influence her back then. In the beginning Tom hadn’t put much thought into their back and forth, appreciating her for asking challenging questions, finally adding something to his classes he had always missed, but with passing months he had slowly picked up on the way she was looking at her – gazes he couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Oh stop it, we both know the answer to that.” Before he could shoot back with another teasing reply burning on the tip of his tongue, his name was called by a bright voice, eyes snapping towards an approaching woman. (Y/n) had seen the female professor around a few times, she had never visited her classes, didn’t even know her name, and yet she couldn't help but tense up. The woman wore a wide smile on her painted lips, making (y/n)’s insides churn as she paid more attention to the way the woman was looking at Tom, a gaze (y/n) was all too familiar with.
“Sorry for disturbing you two, you’re (y/n) right? Welcome to the department.” The woman stretched her hand out for (y/n) to shake, eyes instantly drawn back to Tom and the uncomfortable expression he wore. “I’ll see you tonight right? They’re expecting us at seven.”
“Uhm, yes, I’ll be there.” Tom froze as the woman leaned down to press her lips against his cheek, hand holding his chin with her eyes focused on (y/n). She murmured a soft “See you later” to the two before she left them on their own, not looking back once. For a few moments Tom and (y/n) were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, a silence Tom interrupted with the sound of him clearing his throat, reaching for his napkin to wipe the lipstick stain off his cheek.
“Sorry about that. She’s been nagging me for months, I’m her date for a gallery opening tonight, in hopes that she’ll leave me alone after that.” (Y/n)’s gaze flickered down to her now empty plate before she reached for her phone, checking the fleeting time. She shot him a quick smile, murmuring a soft “Don’t worry”.
“It’s almost three, I think I should head back for my next class soon. Should we pay?”
……
“But, they aren’t dating, right?” (Y/n) shook her head, sinking further into her friend's couch, letting go of a deep sigh that begged to be released. After leaving the restaurant the atmosphere between her and Tom had been awkward, filled with a silence that was only interrupted as they ran into another colleague of theirs, joining him on his way back towards their building. (Y/n) had barely spared any attention to their conversation, replaying the past moments, unable to bite the feeling of jealousy down, tightening up her throat.
“No, I don’t think he’s into her, why am I even thinking about that? It’s not like there’s anything actually going on between us.” Another groan left (y/n) as she closed her eyes, deeply exhaling to try and let go of the tension flushing through her. Her friend squeezed her knee, refilling their glasses with a pitiful gaze thrown (y/n)’s way.
“I mean, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like he is very interested in you, I’m sure it will work out between the two of you.” (Y/n)’s attention was ripped from her friend’s words, hand reaching for her beeping phone. Her heart started racing as she focused on the text Tom had messaged her. It was a picture of a colourful painting, and attached was the text “I think I’m too uncultured, how can people enjoy paintings like that?”
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Her friend shot (y/n) a grin, reading the text (y/n) showed her. It took her a moment to come up with a fitting reply, pondering over the words she should use, trying to ignore the jumps of her heart.
“Seems like we need to work on your knowledge about art history. You should join my Tuesday class.” With trembling fingers (y/n) placed her phone down, taking a sip of her drink. She tried to stir the conversation with her friend into another direction, not wanting to hyperfocus on Tom and the text he’d shoot her way, but the second her phone beeped again, (y/n)’s hand shot out to reach for it.
“How about a private lesson? Wouldn’t want to distract your students.”
……
“It was awful, I was so bored.” Tom’s words echoed through their office, he was leaning back in his chair, feet placed on his desk. He was sipping his coffee, studying (y/n), how she typed away on her laptop, replying to emails, trying to catch up with her tasks of the day.
“Well, it’s the price you pay for leading her on.” He chuckled into his mug, silently grateful that their teasing was finally back, replacing the awkward tension of the day before. Their eyes met for a second, forcing both to give into the smiles tugging on their lips. “Don’t you have something to work on? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do actual work, besides teaching.”
“Mind you, I work very hard. But why should I focus on my classes, when I can enjoy being around you?” She was glad that she wasn’t taking a sip of her warm beverage, would have probably choked on her sips. Heat rose in her system, forcing her hands to momentarily freeze, hovering over the keys. All (y/n) could do was shake her head, trying to switch her concentration back on the email she had been typing.
“You’re such a tease, are you like that with all your female colleagues?” Tom threw his head back with a laugh rumbling through him. He rolled back with his chair, sitting up straight to place his cup down. For a second he watched her, pondering over his next move before he rose to his feet to round their desks, plopping down on hers, forcing (y/n) to focus on him once again.
“We both know you were jealous of her yesterday, right?” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, forcing (y/n) to keep on watching him as he reached for her chin, holding her in place with his thumb running over her lower lip. Her words were stuck in her throat, unable to tear her eyes away as if the roles were reversed, replaying the plot of Orpheus and Eurydice, forced to turn back around to catch another glance of his frame. “But we both also know that there’s no need for you to be jealous, I’ve always been focused on you, even when I wasn’t supposed to.”
Her heart had stopped racing, it felt as if time had frozen, as if earth had stopped rotating, waiting for Tom to break out into a fist of giggles, teasing her for believing the words he had just spoken. But Tom kept quiet, patiently waiting for (y/n) to reply. He felt her skin grow warmer, eyes flickering between hers and her lips, not daring to move closer before a reply would roll off her tongue.
“I,” she struggled to reply, unable to pierce the pieces together, not daring to accept that Tom had just given into the feelings (y/n) had fostered for years. “Do you really mean that?”
Tom let go of her face to reach for her hands, pulling her to her feet to stand between his thighs. One of his hands found their way back to her cheek, guiding (y/n) even closer. With her breath hitched in her chest she started counting the passing by seconds, wondering if he’d close the gap between them, like two boats sailing into the safe haven after months at sea. The waves were guiding them ashore, laying their trust in the lighthouse that called for them to give in, to let go of the pressure that had kept resting on their hearts.
“Professor Holland?” The sound of somebody knocking on their door ripped the two apart, forcing (y/n) to sit back down in her chair, trying to catch her breath as Tom called for them to enter. One of his students stepped into the office, shooting (y/n) a quick smile before he focused on Tom, asking the questions that have guided him towards this office. And with her eyes trained on the screen of her laptop, (y/n)’s mind started replaying the past moments, cursing the student for interrupting their moment – a moment she had been waiting for since she had started crushing on the professor.
……
It was evening by the time Tom found his way back into the office, freezing in his step as he found (y/n) still sitting in her chair, working on a book she kept annotating. Their eyes met for a brief second, breaking contact as he closed the door, haltering in his step for a moment before he walked to his desk, placing his books down. Tom rounded their desks like he had done hours ago, cupping her cheek with one hand, eyes finding her curious ones.
Without another warning, Tom pressed his lips against hers, finally giving into the pull he had been fighting against for endless hours. Her gasp allowed him to deepen the kiss, stabilising himself with his free hand gripping the armrest of her chair, keeping her close to him. (Y/n)’s hands found his curls, not daring to overthink the moment that felt far more intense than in her dreams.
“Fuck, I’ve been thinking of doing that since this morning.” Tom murmured his words against her lips, chuckles swallowed by another kiss she pressed against his lips. Both chased one another, not daring to break apart, wanting to drag out their moments together for as long as possible. Lust flushed through her veins, a biting feeling (y/n) had tried to repress for the past years, but the dam had broken, there was no holding back, no need to stop her body from giving in.
She rose from her chair, making space for Tom to take her seat, pulling her into his lap with his hands finding the back of her thighs. Her middle was ground against his, coaxing a soft moan out of them, sounds bleeding together with the sound of their lips meeting over and over again. (Y/n) felt herself dripping, silently begging him to take it another step further, and another, till she’d choke on his name with tears welling up in her eyes.
“If we don’t stop I’ll fuck you right here, I won’t be able to hold back.” Tom’s confession left her trembling, feeling him growing hard against her. With her hands finding his curls, (y/n) pulled him in for another breathless kiss, whispering a soft “Don’t you dare stop”.
“Alright, but you’ve been warned.” A squeal ripped through (y/n) as she was forced from his lap onto her desk, pushed back for Tom to work on the buttons of her trousers, pulling the fabric down her legs. Anticipation filled her body, wondering how he’d touch her, how he’d make her feel, clinging onto the dreams she had been forcing through her mind for the past years. The soaked through fabric of her panties was ripped from her legs, and with his eyes finding hers, Tom pushed the fabric between her teeth, “Gotta keep you quiet for now.”
Tom’s eyes scanned up and down her frame, marveling at her as if time was fleeting, as if she’d be ripped from him any moment now, needing to burn the sight into his mind. His cold hands pulled her thighs open, eyes set on her glistening cunt, coaxing a groan out of him. She wanted to keep watching him, sounds swallowed by her panties, but the second his tongue found her folds, licking her skin clean, she forced her eyes shut, desperately trying to focus on his movements.
“Fuck, tastes so sweet, I should mark you up, remember that you’re mine, but I’ll take my time with you later, love.” Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, forcing her walls to flutter around him, not used to feeling the cold metal of his rings pressing against her warm skin. It was sinful, so sinful, giving into their carnal desire in their office, a public space, and yet they didn’t dare run from the darkness that seemed to guide them, one with their desires.
(Y/n) combed one hand through his locks, holding onto Tom as he kept sucking on her bundle of nerves, fucking her closer to the edge with skilled, curled fingers. Shudders ran down her spine, heightening her senses, unable to pay attention to her thoughts, the images flushing through her mind, trapped in dark matter, a field of energy only Tom would be able to rip her from.
“So pretty for me, fuck, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” She arched her back off the desk, giving into the moan that roared through her, a sound so sinful not even her panties could drown it out. Her orgasm creeped closer, about to swallow her whole, forcing her to drown in the ocean she had been sailing, losing her path – forced to cling to Tom. “Gonna fuck you now, want to feel you cum with my cock buried deep inside of you.”
He parted from her for just a second, freeing his cock with quick movements, reaching for the condom he carried around in his wallet. (Y/n) watched him with glassy eyes, sighing in relief as he pulled her panties from her mouth, allowing her to whimper his name. Tom’s fingers dug into her thighs as he wrapped her legs around his waist, cock brushing through her folds, collecting drops of her arousal before he finally pushed into her.
Before she could release the heavy moan wanting to rip through her, Tom had kissed her, keeping her pressed against his chest. He fucked her slow, giving her a few moments to adjust before building up his pace, making her forget her name with only a few thrusts. The way Tom fucked her was ruthless, unforgiving, and yet it was more intense than what she had experienced before that, shaking against him as if she was about to pass out.
“Feels so good, fuck, Tom.” Her words were whispered against his lips, eyes squeezed shut, allowing Tom to use her body, to mark her up. He was claiming her in the most primal way, body moulding against hers like wax formed into a candle, burned from the heat she emanated.
Tom sneaked a hand between their bodies, fingers finding their way back to her pulsing clit, set on pushing her over the edge. His rough thrusts pushed her back into the state she had been trapped in moments ago, no longer having control over her body. Both had a hard time grasping that this was real, that they were finally allowed to give in, secretly promising one another that they’d never part ways again.
“You’re gonna cum, huh? Can feel you clenching around me.” (Y/n) could only choke on his name, not able to hold back as her orgasm threatened to take over, rocking through her body like a bolt of lightning striking her. His pace didn’t falter, keeping a steady grip on her to hold (y/n) close as she gave in, trembling against his body.
His dark eyes fluttered close as he came, filling the condom with a deep groan ripping through his throat. A “fuck” left Tom, slowly loosening his grip on (y/n) to pull out of her, not picking up on the whimper leaving her, feeling empty. Their eyes searched one another, unable to stop their grins from widening as another kiss was shared, chasing their closeness.
“Are you okay, love?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, taking his reached out hand to rise from her position on the table, needing to stabilise herself with her still quivering limbs. She’d struggle with walking for the next hours, needing Tom to guide her back home, not ready to part ways just yet.
“How about I take you home with me? We could cook something, take a shower, and watch a movie?” His words were met with a kiss pressed against his lips, answering his question. And with one last glance thrown her way, Tom pulled (y/n) out of their office, hands interlaced.
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Hot for Teacher (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x fem! Reader Oneshot)
Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Some thirsty comments and cursing, but no smut. Established relationship and lots of fluffy moments. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me. Reader not being a student and being an Adult Adult (tm). A big fancy ball because I decided not some hum drum party was gonna do. (I'm the writer, I can do what I want). I rip off YouTube comments and Ana Huang and stuff I see on Tiktok and Instagram.
A/N: For @holdmytesseract's request! I am sorry this took a while due to stuff happening, but here it is!!!
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr
You always visited the campus coffee shop on Mondays at 10 am to overhear students being thirsty for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at their comments. They were leaving their English Literature Survey class. Only they weren’t discussing books.
“Sooo nice of him to lower the word count for the essay, he knows it’s a lot.”
“Holy crap, did you see how tight his shirt was today? I could practically see his titties.”
“He needs to quote Shakespeare again. I think I’m developing a kink.”
“If I caught my girl in bed with Professor Hiddleston, I’d tuck him in.”
“If I was at the club and Professor Hiddleston was hitting on my girl, I’d start to cry…because he didn’t choose me.”
“I’m a hardcore lesbian, but Professor Hiddleston is on my cheat card.”
“I’m a hardcore asexual, but Professor Hiddleston is so hot that if I had to get pregnant I’d want him to do the honors.”
You sipped up your drink, sitting in a far corner. Smiling bright as you heard them. Stifling a laugh so hard you could feel your drink always threatened to snort out of your nose. You would cup your face, ensuring they didn’t take note of you. Even get out the notes app on your phone to type them down. Not that you’d ever show him.
He was their hot Professor. But to you, he was just Tom.
Just Tom. A boyfriend who cared for you respected you, and listened to you. Who did the bare minimum and so much more. They didn’t know his flaws, living with each other's smells and body odors and functions and insecurities. And the little, beautiful moments that made you all the more in love with him. How you would both go to bookstores and geek out after certain works, make a mess in the kitchen trying a new recipe, or stay in your pajamas until 1 pm watching something on the TV. Did they know how loud he snored at night? Or how sensitive his neck was? Or that he was fidgety if he sat too long?
Then one of them said “His girlfriend is one lucky ass bitch. I wonder what she’s like?”
“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!” one asked.
They all shot up like meerkats with big smiles.
You froze, only staring quietly at your drink.
Tom didn’t talk about you in class. Nothing. Nada. Goose eggs. They didn't know you existed.
So far you were sure they were not little homewreckers- not successfully, at least. You trusted Tom and he trusted you and his students respected his boundaries. But he blocked them on social media so they wouldn’t dig anything about him. Tom was a private person and he wanted that to be respected by his students.
When you both met to hang out and make dinner later that evening- his special Spaghetti bolognese recipe, he gave you a hug and kiss on your head.
“Oh, you missed a spot!” you teased.
His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses.
“Oh- uh,” he voiced out.
You dived in to kiss him on the lips, his beard scratching your chin.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Oh, just fine. Your students were…wondering about me today. I saw them at the shop.”
“They didn’t recognize you?”
“No- they don’t know what I look like. Or about me, period…we’ve kept it that way…”
Both of you got into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing the pasta and sauce. It smelled of garlic, onion, and olive oil, making your stomach rumble. How easily smelling that in a kitchen could solve all of your problems!
He smiled at you. Then, as the pasta was set to boil in the pot, he turned to you. His sleeves rolled up (making you giddy inside) and his face was a little flushed from the heat of the steam from cooking.
“My angel, I don’t want to keep you in hiding- and you shouldn’t.”
“Tom, what do you mean?” you asked. You stirred the sauce, then tapped the spoon and set it on a jar for attempted cleanliness.
I love you. And this is a part of my life…would you like to meet them? I promise you, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them!”
He went up to hug you from behind and you watched the simmering food.
You paused, taking in a breath. What were you afraid of? Were you ashamed of Tom or being with him? No, not a bit.
You turned around to face him.
“They’re college kids. They’re basically puppies…I think I’d like to meet them.” you agreed
--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---
You both decided what event it should be that you would meet them. There were events called Bookish Balls that were all the rage now. It was a prom for adults. Proms where everyone dressed like fantasy characters and showed off costumes and even cosplays. It was everything from complex armor to a dress with some elf ears on.
You knew he had a Shakespearean-era outfit from a play he did that he kept you just had to find the right look. It would be more exciting and less creepy then if you jumped on them at the mall like a pair of stalkers.
And the ball looked like fun.
You and Tom both arrived. He was in his Shakespearean garb and crown. You had your own outfit- you adored it. You couldn’t help but look at each large mirror you walked by as you walked down the dim hallways with carpeted floors.
All the students were talking about it- tickets were 60 percent off for students. Since they were all raving about these hot new fantasy books between their required reading of Dickens. They all rattled their iced coffees like maracas and gossiped and shared pics of their outfits on their phones every day before class according to Tom. Most of them would all be there.
Little did they know their Professor was going to be there, as well as his girlfriend.
You both arrived at the fine, fancy hotel. Tom was dressed in his leather doublet and pants with a large cape and a grand crown. Ever the king. You had splurged on the fancy outfit you wanted badly- and you felt as if you were a heroine in a story as you walked through.
“You look stunning- they’re going to adore you,” Tom assured you.
You hoped so. If they met you and humiliated you in some way tonight or after, you would move to Antarctica and learn to speak penguin.
Taking his arm and feeling like royalty, you both went down the fine large building. You saw people gathered. There were some stage lights and the large gala room had trees with flowers everywhere as well as thrones, little game booths photo booths, and a banquet. And, of course, a packed dance floor. A live band played. Many people wore crowns and wings and elf ears and were dancing away with zeal. Women twirled their ballgown skirts with smiles so big it lit them up. Many flicked their capes dramatically or wrapped around them like blankets. There were fairy lights and glitter everywhere and there were photo ops and even a costume contest. It was in full sway.
Including a crowd that included Tom’s students. They jumped up in time to the song, breathlessly singing along to every word.
Tom held out your hand, both of you feeling like the king and queen looking over their jubilant subjects. You both walked down. Hoping your outfit looked as nice on you as you hoped it would.
The song was entering its last chorus. The student's backs were turned and their capes and wings were bouncing as they danced. They hadn’t noticed you yet.
He went to his group of students and cleared his throat. At once they turned their heads.
They looked at him and then you and their jaws dropped.
Tom said.“hello, here is Y/N, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He then leaned you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
All of their eyes bugged out of their skulls and jaws dropped like broken nutcrackers among them.
You were worried the girls in the group would glare at you like they were going to rip out your stomach intestines.
But instead, all of them collapsed into a collective “AAaaaaawwwwwww, hello!” and “What?! WHAT?!” Their eyes flitted toward Tom in tight leather (who wouldn’t?) and you in your presence.
You went up like in any social situation. You gave them a smile- warm, genuine, polite, and friendly.
“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you- I heard all about you guys!”
You shook their hands. You got to meet them and learn names- Kelly, Hailey, Jessie, Emily, Daniel, Isaiah, Chase, Cameron, Kat, Miranda, Edgar, and so many more your head spun. But you eventually got it with practice.
But they let you dance with them. Be relaxed and have fun. It moved from a band to a playlist of all the classic dance songs. The band blasted Single Ladies and the girls invited you, dragging you in. You tried to copy the moves from the music video, but couldn’t quite and they all burst into laughter anyway.
It then slowed down- it was a ballad, the Cody Fry song about falling in love being like a symphony.
“Well…could I have a dance with my lady?” Tom asked, holding out his hand.
They gasped and looked at you.
“Oh, what a gentleman! I’d be delighted!” you said, accepting his hand.
They let you and Tom have a slow dance- how handsome he looked in the light, beaming at you. They smiled as if they were watching a rom-com at the end. There were no angry glares- at most, some looked a little reflective and sad. But none dared interrupt the moment with you and Tom.
Would they hate you after seeing the affection?
If so, they shut their mouths and minded their beeswax about it.
There were loads of pictures- you were willing to take some (they were seeing you as the surrogate Adult Adult more than their adults) and they included you in some, including some selfies.
Tom excused himself and returned with even brought you a little plate of food. a plate full of little sandwiches, cheeses, and fruits. You both rested your feet and shared some, feeling their eyes on you. For dessert, there were some gooey brownies that melted in your mouth. Tom eagerly grabbed some, his large hands packing as many brownies as he could.
But you realized his beard had streaks of chocolate brownies on it, you burst into laughter and you heard some giggling from the students too.
“Oh, let me take care of that!” you offered.
You got out a handkerchief and wiped it off of him. You definitely heard “awwwws” in the distance. Looking at it, his beard was now clean.
“There you go! But dashing as always!” you said.
He held your hand and kissed it. The “AWWWWWS” got louder in the back and you both had to suppress your laughter.
Rejoining the students, you saw them less as little judges or would-be homewreckers. You got to talk to them. Maybe you judged them harshly- you remembered being in college when you were that young too. Of course, they grumbled about the coursework sometimes and you gave your own insight.
“Oh- you’re seriously reading Persuasion? Oh, just wait! Austen takes some time to get used to when you read her stuff- read them slowly and you will catch onto what’s happening! The yearning in that one is beautiful” you encouraged a distraught Hailey.
You even discussed what fantasy books they were into and got some more recommendations for your ever-growing TBR. And at the end, every last person in the crowd gathered and danced. You and Tom joined the students with big grins and aching feet, but you wouldn’t stop until that last song ended its phrase. No drama. No pettiness. And no hiding. No fear. Just people at a party. Young and happy and alive.
--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---
The other morning, you were back at the coffee shop. Waiting on them. Soon enough, they arrived in their band, though you remained in the corner.
“I couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend!” Daniel gasped.
“Really?! I’m not! A man that fine can have his pick,” Kelly commented.
They began to all get iced coffees and gather around.
“She is gorgeous- didn’t you see her at that ball!? And she’s super nice!”
“Yeah…I want them to be happy and he seems so happy-”
“Oh, he is cheesing after her- you saw how he smiled?! And how he got the plate for her? Like, he’s a walking green flag!”
‘She’s so lucky!
“Listen, I am glad they’re happy…I just wish it were me…”
They all sighed and agreed,. You waited for that whole vibe of that phrase to blow away.
Then, quietly you walked over.
“Hello everyone,” you said.
They gasped and turned heads.
“YN! YN, hi!” one boy, what was his name- oh yes, Cameron!-said.
“Oh, I just wanted to pop by,” you added.
Then, Emily stood up. She got out a chair from one table and moved it over to where everyone sat .
“Do you have anywhere to be? You can…you can join us! You’re welcome to!”
You smiled at them and took a seat.
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Insufferable little minx
Summary: You and your professor don't really see eye to eye. Problem is, he's smoking hot. Tension is rising. What happens when you two meet in a completely different setting?
Warnings: Smutttttt , curse words.
Pairing: Prof!Tom Hiddleston x reader
When you're little, or just a teenager, a crush on a teacher tends to be quite harmless. It is something your friends tease you with and you get a bit flustered when the teachers talks to you. However, when you get older, attend university and sometimes teachers are a little closer to your age, or you know, you're legal and it isn't as strange anymore.. things tend to get more complicated. There is no innocence in it. Things become more tense rather quickly and before you know it, you're masturbating to your History of Science teacher.
Worse part is, you're quite certain that he hates you. You're a smart mouth, not afraid to show people around you who you are and that you are smarter than they are. Not in an arrogant way, but you're just confident. And there was that one moment where your professor challenged you, and being the confident person you are, you weren't afraid to show him just how much your knowledge reached. From that moment on you just knew he hated you. The way he would look at you. There was a certain sparkle in his eyes. Not the one he would have when he was passionately speaking about his subject, it was a different sparkle. Passionate hate. As if he couldn't wait to humiliate you right in front of the class. And while you were willing to lie down on his lap and have him spank your ass red, you were certain it was a different type of humiliation he had in mind.
Professor Hiddleston was a handsome man. His features, his glance, the way his pants seemed to accentuate quite a lot.. At least, you were able to use that in your fantasies. When he sat behind his desk, legs spread just a little. That man was able to use you for your body and you'd thank him.
But right now, you had to focus on whatever his lips were saying. He was speaking quite passionately about something, avoiding your glance it seemed. Whenever he asked a question about his subject, he would look around the classroom, arching an eyebrow when he glanced at you, before giving someone else a turn. He hadn't forgotten his encounter with you. Friday "I expect you all to choose a certain period in time, explain why you choose it and elaborate about it. Why is is important to you, and why was it important in time”, Tom.. professor Hiddleston stood up. His arms crossed in front of his chest while he eyed the packed classroom. "Minimum of 10 pages. At my desk next friday", and with that he turned around. "I expect you all to choose a certain period in time, explain why you choose it and elaborate about it. Why is it important to you, and why was it important in time”, Tom.. professor Hiddleston stood up. His arms crossed in front of his chest while he eyed the packed classroom. "Minimum of 10 pages. At my desk next friday", and with that he turned around.
Damn him and his perfect ass.
What was he saying? Something about an assignment. You nudged your friend next to you, asking her to repeat it. But before you could get a proper answer out of her, the professor was standing in front of you. If his pants would be any tighter.. You quickly glanced up, not wanting to stare at his crotch for too long. "I would love it if you'd not interrupt me (Y/N)", he arched an eyebrow. He was enjoying this. “Not everyone is as smart as you are”, the bastard. You rolled your eyes, having to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. The class seemed amused. Of course. Not wanting to cause a scene you just nodded, you were going to ask your friend later. What was it about him, he was sexy, his swagger.. his demeanor, you wanted to wipe that cocky smile off of his face, with your own lips.
When you were all dismissed, you'd talk to your friend, exchange some notes and she mentioned the assignment professor Hiddleston had talked about. Of course you had to daydream about his ass the moment he would mention something like that.
The day went smoothly after that. Pretty quickly to be honest. It was a Friday so fortunately for you, you were able to relax. No big schedule for school, and the only assignment you would focus on was that of professor Hiddleston. And that could wait till Sunday. After all you had the whole week to focus on it. This night was to wind down from the stress that your studies brought you, and what better way than to use alcohol and loud music.
You weren't sure why, but you went all out. Took a shower, shaved, curled your hair, put on your makeup. Heck your eyeliner was perfect, the red lips, the black dress. Everything was looking amazing. You were feeling gorgeous, no, you are gorgeous. You would attract so much attention. Professor Hiddleston would be on his knees if he saw you like this, you were certain. Not that you'd run into him. There would be plenty of handsome men you'd run into tonight. Tonight was not the night for a one-nightstand. Just for fun, your friends, and whatever the heck was going to happen.
It was cold. The leather jacket you were wearing slightly chill against of your skin. The black dress perfect clung to your skin. Your heels. Fuck why were you wearing heels again. You and some of your friends had chosen a bar that was quite well known around your fellow students. The place was packed, the coldness of outside immediately forgotten as you moved inside. Maneuvering inside around all the bodies before finding a spot where all of you could drink, dance, laugh.. maybe kiss a couple of people.
Three shots in and you were laughing your ass off. One of your friends was already kissing someone in the corner of the bar. You had been offered multiple drinks, some people had given you their numbers, yet somehow.. they weren't really interesting enough. Maybe the cocktail you were drinking would make things, people, more interesting to you. The night was becoming a blur. Time was passing quickly, your friends had left. Whether they were hooking up with someone, or they were tired. Either way, you were sitting on one of the barstools, nurturing your third cocktail. You were certain that if you'd have to walk home right now, it would take twice as long. The heels weren't going to be easy to walk on.
After turning down another person, you huffed, finishing your drink and straightening your back. However the man you had just turned down couldn't seem to accept the word no. He sat down next to you, hand on your lower back, toying around with the fabric. "Oh but you definitely should let me buy you a drink", you weren't certain what it was. But the man disgusted you. Or maybe it was the alcohol you had mixed together. All you knew was that you wanted him away, and you'd need some water to make sure you wouldn't be sick, or have a major headache the next morning. "No, please kindly fuck off", you heard a chuckle. Not from the man next to you, but behind you. "Doesn't she have a way with words", the man behind of you mentioned, such a familiar voice. It took you a while to realize, however before you could react, professor Hiddleston was sitting next to you.
"Oh fuck", you cursed, confused that he would even sit next to you now. However it made the other man go away and you were thankful for that. You weren't sober enough for this.. Why had you gotten yourself so many shots. There was water in front of you and you gulped it down rather quickly. Not questioning why it was in front of you. "The hell are you doing here", this wasn't the plan. He wasn't supposed to be here. Or was this all your imagination? "It is Friday, am I not allowed to have a drink and celebrate that it is weekend?" you just shrugged at that, looking down at your heels. Fuck they were high. And your dress was all the way to your thighs. No wonder there had been so many men around of you. You waved at the bartender, asking for another glass of water while fixing your dress.
"Let me rephrase", oh damn, how were you suddenly speaking so well again. The whole evening seemed like a blur, and now all of the sudden you were feeling quite clear. "Why are you next to me. I thought you hated me", ah.. so you weren't completely sober yet. Otherwise your brain would have stopped you from being so.. honest. Professor Hiddleston chuckled at that, he seemed way more sober than you were, damn him. Damn him and his.. shirt. Was he always this muscular? Honestly his pecks were showing through his shirt. "I do not hate you", he confessed, "however, you can be quite annoying. Very persistent, and very talented." Did the man just compliment you?
You were flabbergasted. This was fake. You would wake up in the next few seconds. Confused and frustrated. However when you bit down on your lip, harder than intended, you felt pain. Apparently this was real? "You have had too much to drink", when you turned to look at him again, the look in his eyes was different. There was that sparkle again in his eyes. The one he had whenever he was looking at you in class. The.. hatred. "Don't bite your lip like that", the professor seemed conflicted for a moment, "I see the way you look at me." Well fuck, you felt exposed. What was that. He had noticed the way you had looked at him. You wondered whether this was going to be a conversation about appropriate behavior in the classroom.
Well fuck, you weren't in the mood for that. You finished the glass of water and magically managed to stand on your heels and turn around. If he didn't hate you, like he claimed, he would for sure hate you now for leaving him like this. "I'm sorry", you mumbled, wobbling your way to the exit. Shit where was your jacket. It was freezing outside. No way you were going to go inside now, facing your professor again after he called you out like that. You heard his words in your head again, I see the way you look at me, fuck. How were you ever able to go to his class? You were panicking. Nerves in your stomach making you regret that you had taken multiple shots. You felt like throwing up. Felt like taking off your heels and run. However you'd cut your feet open on the broken glass on the ground, or slip and break something.
"Walk with me", a warm fabric moved around of your shoulders. This wasn't your jacket. The professor had his hand on your back, guiding you towards the parking lot. "I do not mean to be inappropriate", you panicked, still, yet let him guide you to his car. "We are way passed that dear", fuckfuckfuck. Professor Hiddleston drove off, heading somewhere you were unfamiliar with. "What is happening?" you put your seatbelt on, moving your hands up towards the fabric that was around your shoulders, keeping you warm. When you glanced at your professor you realized he had his coat around of you. "I have had enough of your behavior in class, and then you dare showing up in such a dress. Gaining the attention of every person inside of that bar. Ignoring me like you aren't undressing me with your eyes every class we have?" he glanced at you, his jaw set, knuckles clenching the wheel. "You show up to class, cleavage visible, sometimes not even wearing a bra. Getting me worked up and leaving me frustrated after every lecture", OH. Oh this was going a complete different direction. One you had not seen coming.
The drive was tense. There sexual tension in the air thick. You kept on clenching your legs together. Fuck you were wet already. The man hadn't even touched you, or promised to touch you. His voice, his words already had such a reaction on you. You worried you'd need to keep a water bottle nearby if he would touch you.
When the car came to a stop, the professor turned to you. Seatbelt still on. "If you do not want this. We can drive to your home and pretend like this has never happened", he offered. You blinked, dumbfounded, as if you had not heard him right. "I", why were you questioning yourself? Why were you even thinking about this. You had wanted this for so long. Wanted to feel how his hands would feel on your bare skin. How his lips felt on your skin. How he would look like, while having his release. Shit. "Please, stop biting your lip. I can't help myself any longer", he pleaded, yet you put any doubt aside, leaning over and grabbing his face so you could finally kiss him. Taste him. Feel the passion of the man that had haunted so many dreams of yours.
The seatbelt, that fucking seatbelt, was in the way. You moved your hips, trying to get closer but you couldn't. His hands, damn his hands, were on your hips, squeezing your skin as he continued to kiss you. Soon there was tongue. He was eager, you could tell. The way he was elevated from his seat, pulling you closer as his tongue evaded your mouth.
He was quick to push you back. Everything was going so fast. Your cheeks were red, pulse elevated, and your panties were soaked.
The way from the car to his house was a mess of lingering touches. Lips finding yours, whispers being said. You struggled walking, damn heels, but the professor was clever enough, lifting you until you were inside. With the door closed and having full privacy inside of his house, there was nothing holding you back, nor him. Your heels were the first item he pulled off of you, hands sliding along your legs, teasing along the edge of your dress before he pulled you against him. "Been thinking about you for so long", he admitted, lips on your neck. "Professor", you whispered, hands on his shoulders, squeezing as you glided your hands along of his body. Trying to memorize every part of his skin. As if he would put it to the test later. "Fuck you for calling me professor like it doesn't turn you on just to say it", you moaned, not sure why, whether it was frustration or just the pleasure of him touching you. "Please just touch me", you whimpered, grabbing one of his hands and inching it towards your upper leg.
He was so conflicted. Probably thinking of a clever remark of some sorts. Yet your skin was distracting, your scent.. the way your voice trembled. How could he deny you. There would be plenty of times to take things easy. Now, the professor, or, Tom, did not want to waste any second. He hitched your dress up, lips moving down towards your shoulder. His slender fingers moved carefully along of your panties. He moaned, you were so ready for him already. "You little minx", he didn't mean it as an insult, however he couldn't help himself. The temptation too much. Tom inched you panties aside, fingers moving along your slit and soon enough he was coated with your juices. And instead of touching you right where you wanted him to, he moved his fingers up towards his mouth. Tasting you. The sigh was unholy. Yet awakened the fire inside you even more.
"You're insufferable", moving so you could kiss him again, ushering away his hands so he had to hold onto your hips again. You on the other hand moved to open his pants. Ridding him his jeans rather quickly so you could stroke him through his boxers. Lips clashed together again, tongue against tongue, dancing for dominance which Tom rather quickly claimed. He ripped your panties off of you, hand in-between of your legs so he could finally touch you were you needed him the most. His thumb circling the sensitive nub between of your legs rather urgently. "Need.. you", heck you hadn't even reached the house, still inside of his hallway. But fuck it, you'd fuck him right here.
You pushed his boxers down, freeing him from the contraption. One of your hands wrapped eagerly around of his shaft. Apparently he was just as eager as you were.
Tom pushed you against of the wall, knee in-between of your legs as he claimed your mouth again. Your dress was hitched up around your belly, yet you were only focused on him. The professor, your professor. Touching you in all the right ways. "Please", you begged, arching your back so you could be closer to him. "If only you were so obedient in class", he chuckled, aligning himself up against of your entrance, looking you in the eyes as he slowly inched himself inside of you. "Fuu-..", he quickly shut you up, lips eagerly pressed against of yours again while he fucked you.
God he felt amazing. The way he filled you up just right. Touching all the right places. You moved your arms around of his neck, Tom held you up against of the wall. He pulled you up against of the wall. Holding you up higher as you wrapped your arms around of him tightly. His thrusts were eager, hard, hips snapping upwards rather quickly. Your moans were an endless song that kept him going, muffled by his own noises while he kissed you. "You're going to be my good little student?" he pulled back, admiring you. Pinned against the wall, taking his cock so well. You couldn't answer, especially when his thumb moved in-between your legs again, circling your sensitive bundle. You chanted a bunch of curses, some fucks, incoherent stuff as you tried to make it clear that you were close to your release.
It felt like he had just entered you. As if you were fucking for just a few seconds. But already you were so close. Tom himself quickened his thrusts. Really pinning you between him and the wall. All you could sense was him holding you, his thrusts, the way he lips touched every part of your neck, sucking, moaning, his thumb eagerly pressing against of your clit while he one of his paintings pricked against your neck. "I-", you couldn't find your voice, the climax overtaking you so harshly that you arched your back, put the back of your head against of the wall and clenched around of him. That seemed to get a reaction out of him, his head snapping back so he could watch you come undone. Only to chase his own release, fucking you harshly until his pace faltered and he too found his release.
You needed a moment, slowly pushing your head against of Tom's as he hid his face in your neck. Both needing to catch your breath. You weren't sure how long you both stood there, but you became painfully aware of the ache in your back in your legs. This was long overdue.
Tom slowly pulled himself out of you, already missing your warmth. He held you, putting your feet back onto the ground. You weren't stable, however this time not because you were wearing heels.. or because of the alcohol. Your mind was as clear as could be. You had completely sobered up. However, "can I have some water?" you managed, hand holding onto his shoulder while you looked down at the mess that had been made. Whatever neighbors the professor had, they were surely filing a complaint after the noises they had made.
@little-diable this one is for you. I truly hope I wrote down what you had in mind.
#tom hiddleston#professor tom hiddleston#prof!Tom Hiddleston#Tom hiddleston x reader#professor tom hiddleston x reader#Prof!Tom Hiddleston x reader#xreader#reader insert#professor fic
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distracting ta!peter while he marks exams…things get handsy (ps have fun on vacay!!)
today is multiverse monday (but i'm on vacation)! send me any au you can think of :)
thank you angel!! love you bunches :D <33
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"Professor," you bent over his desk just a tad more than you needed to for him to be able to hear you in the dead silent classroom, "I was wondering if you'd help me with this?"
"What'cha need-" Professor Peter glanced up at you haphazardly, eyes widening as he was met with your chest rather than your face, eyes lingering as he dragged them up your form, "Y/N...?" He continued his question as if he hadn't just drooled over you, blinking rapidly from behind his thick-framed glasses.
"I can't understand this part of the assignment," You gestured to a question mark you'd scrawled next to a portion of the homework, "Could y'help me?"
"'F course," You watched his adam's apple bob in his throat delicately, his thoughts anything but as you made to sit beside him.
He messily shoved the test papers he was grading onto the corner of the desk, a few floating gracefully down to land in a scattered heap on the floor. He fumbled to grab them, stacking them all hastily in a pile and turning back to you with a slight rosy hue to his cheeks.
"Now honey, let's get this figured out."
#prof!peter parker#prof!peter#professor!peter parker#professor!peter parker x reader#professor!peter x reader#professor!peter#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tobey!peter#tobey!peter parker#tobey!peter x reader#tobey!spiderman#tobey!peter parker x reader#andrew!peter parker x reader#andrew!peter parker#andrew!spiderman#andrew!peter x reader#andrew!peter#tom!peter#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!peter x reader#tom!peter parker#tom!spiderman#multiverse mondays#ddejavvu's multiverse mondays
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Gum (Tom)
been reading some prof!tom lately.
PAIRING: Prof!Tom x Reader
SUMMARY: Maybe chewing gum is not such a bad idea.
reblogs/feedbacks/likes are much appreciated and highly encouraged. DO NOT REPOST/STEAL MY WORK. :<
WARNINGS: depictions of chewing gum, reader is a tired college senior, real person fiction, age gap (tom is 40, y/n is 20's), SFW-ish, implied smut?, minor Dom/Sub dynamics?, sorry for typos or grammar mistakes English isn't my first language. ~any other warnings not mentioned~
WORDS: 580~
You were trying your best to not fall asleep during his lectures. It's only 7pm and you already feel tired. You've been infront of your computer screen since this morning. Only leaving for small breaks inbetween classes.
Online classes are fine for the most part but your university mandated to keep your cameras open to simulate some normalcy. Other than that you couldn't really complain much.
You reach for your gum near your monitor. Sneakily, you pop it into your mouth. You chew and the movement of your jaw already helping.
You wouldn't have this class on your senior year of college if it weren't for the mix up in the loading of your subjects freshman year. However, you don't really mind since a certain blue eyed enthusiastic professor is teaching your missed class.
Professor Tom Hiddleston, his blue eyes sparkle as he goes on and on about the lecture, a love for literature you both shared.
As you absentmindedly chewed your gum, staring at his video instead of the prepared presentation, a loud clearing of throat pulls you from your reverie.
It came from him. You straighten up in your seat, when you unconsciously leaned over your desk, daydreaming about your professor.
He clears his throat once again. "Miss Y/L/N?" Your eyes widened, moving your mouse to unmute only to notice it already unmuted. You feel all the blood rush up your head as embarrassment washes over you.
Panicking inwardly as you think about how loud were you chewing or sighing, worse maybe mumbling something. It seems like you blacked out the last few minutes.
"Did you have something to add?" He asks, a playful smirk on his lips. You quickly shake your head. "No, sir." You mute yourself, trying to keep a straight face.
"Well, as much as I love to hear all of you. I would appreciate it if you keep your mics on mute during the lecture and reserve your questions right after." The whole class sends affirming messages on the chatbox. If only the ground could swallow you now, you'd gladly let it.
"Thank you so much, class." There was pause, a thought flashing through his eyes. He opens his mouth only to close it again. But he chooses to let the idea out.
"Oh, before we have a short break. Miss Y/L/N?" He calls out to you again. Butterflies swarm your stomach with haste, heart beating out of your chest.
"Will you spit or swallow?" He says, your jaw almost dropped but the glint of his eyes was different. It excited you. You bite your lip before opening your mic.
"Swallow, sir." You smirked and swallowed your gum. He smiles, chuckling to himself.
"Good girl." He whispers, if you weren't listening well you would've missed it. "Right, thank you. We'll be taking a short break, be back in 15 minutes." With that your classmates left, faces shocked at what just happened.
When it was only the two of you left in the meeting, he speaks up. "Do you have other plans for tonight?" He smiles, your legs pressing together at his sultry voice.
You take a second to think, to try and tease him. "I don't think so..." He laughs softly.
"Dinner?" He asks, a playful glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. A one word question that's making you think there's something more instore with the way the words played on his tongue.
"Would love to, sir."
thank you so much for reading :>
#tom hiddleston#prof!tom#tom x reader#rpf#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston fic#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fan fic#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston imagine
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗
Oooh! Thank you so much for this!
Adoration - T. R. x fem!Reader
This was the first smut I ever wrote and the story that really started to gather followers. It’s still my favorite so far. Just the sheer angst of it all was cathartic to write
Bullied - Prof. T. R. x platonic gn!Reader
Ugh, I love this story! It practically wrote itself; I was so obsessed with the story idea. I love protective Tom almost as much as I love feral Tom
Stargazing - B. Z. x male!Reader
I love Blaise so much. Writing this had me falling in love with him even more
Just Cuddling - T. N x male!Reader
It’s Theodore Nott and teasing with the other boys. Honestly, my favorite fic for banter
Crush - L. B. x male!Reader
This fic still gives me butterflies to read! Just Enzo’s cuteness and how in love with the reader he is
#thank you so much for the ask!#this actually really helped remind me about all the things i love about my stories#slytherinboysappreciation loves pizzaapeteer#ask game#fic recs
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Borrowed T.H
Masterlist
prof!Tom
Warnings: making out, terrible jokes, fluff, trashy writing
"Tom", you whispered as your boyfriend slash professor kissed your neck and marking you up very well. You had gone over to his apartment to talk about increasing your marks but Tom understood the complete opposite of it, and that is how you found yourself on his couch, under him. He hummed against your skin not being deterred from his goal.
"I need to talk to you about my marks." You sighed as he began his work at your sweet spot.
"I'm already working on it love." He chuckled, his soft lips not leaving your skin.
"I meant my grades." You said a bit of seriousness in your tone, and then he finally looked at you, he curls falling on his forehead as you ran your hand through them and looking into his equally soft brown orbs. "Well, you get an A grade for being such a pretty girl." He kissed your crimson cheek.
"Tom." You warned.
"Don't worry about it darling," he said in a heavy British accent, "I will see to it later, for now just let me spend some time with my girl." He smirked and got back to littering hickeys all over your neck and collarbone.
--
The next morning you woke up snuggled into Tom's arms, reaching out for your phone you checked the time and realized you're gonna be late for your first class. You let yourself out of the brunet's strong grip and rushed to the bathroom, upon reaching there you took a look of yourself in the mirror and saw your neck and collarbone covered with hickeys and began to panic as you had to head out of the door in fifteen minutes. "Tom!" You called out, heading back to where the boy was sleeping soundly and stood in front of his sleeping figure with your hands on your hips, "Tom wake up!" You called out again.
He squinted and reached for your hand and kissing your knuckles, "Morning to you too love."
"Look what you've done!" You huffed, "I have to leave in fifteen minutes and I cannot leave looking like this!"
"But you look so pretty!" He pouted, secretly proud of his work.
"Do you have any concealer?" You asked returning to the bathroom and once again taking a look at the bruises.
"Yeah, it's right next to nail polish in the cabinet." He joked.
"Hilarious." You deadpanned, "What am I gonna do Tom?"
"Ooh I have an idea!" He exclaimed and went to his room, moments later he came with his black turtle neck in his hand, "Hear you can wear this." He handed you the shirt.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," He reassured, "You do look nice in my clothes." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Tom was right, you did look nice his clothes.
Your day went on as usual, boring classes and tons of assignments to be submitted, but all of it was worth it because it was the last class of the day and it was Tom's. He entered the class all the girls began to swoon over how his biceps looked in his white tee, but he didn't pay attention to any of them; his eyes meeting only yours as he gave you a soft smile, admiring how you looked in his shirt. The bell rang signally that class was over, as the rest of the students began to move out Tom called out to you, "Miss Y/l/n, would you mind meeting me in my office." You nodded.
"Ooh someone's in trouble!" Your friend teased you. Reaching his office you knocked and waited for him to open the door, the door swung open and he roughly pulled you in and the checked the hallway for any passerby's. Slamming the door shut he pulled you closer by your waist, "You have no idea what you have been doing to be all day looking so hot in that." He whispered seductively in your ear followed by his soft lips meeting yours. You were in for a long time.
General Taglist: @petersasteria @bleh-bleh-blehs @astrosurreptitious @hollanderfangirl @alinastarkrovs @parkerpeter24 @yourstrulyamour @celestialholland @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theglitterymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @yousayironisayman @rosie-posie08
Tom Holland Taglist: @words-to-accomplish-something @asshatgrace @spideyspeaches @anissalime @peterbenjiparker @just-lost-inbetween-worlds
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland x y/n#tom holland smut#prof!tom#tom holland fic
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