#I said I’d do an essay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellecdc · 3 months

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✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter.

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter.

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes.

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something. “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly.

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.”

“Consider it done.”

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered.

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault.

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.”

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively.

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed.

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?”

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head.

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother.

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat.

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward.

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table.

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.”

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you.

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors.

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door.

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face.

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively.

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.”

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly.

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!”

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest.

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book.

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!”

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed.

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.”

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief.

。.。:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste.

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him.

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you.

“That way, quickly.”

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap.

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door.

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to.

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow.

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently.

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape.

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.”

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?”

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him.

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche”

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling.

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t.

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much.

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly.

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.”

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you.

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling.

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.”

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?”

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.”

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

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dduane · 5 months

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Hi Diane!

I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.

I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.

Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.

The Young Wizard series.

I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.

I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.

So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!

Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊

And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.

#Stealing the Elf-King's Roses

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loving-barnes · 8 months

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - PROM

A/N: As I already mentioned, I have developed a huuuuuge crush on Wolverine.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: smut

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 6600+

Important note: The reader has long hair, did my best to not describe her at all. ALSO, I know Wolverine is like 160cm but... I forgot about tha that so, he's a tall MF. (They kinda fucked that up in some of the movies, so whatever.)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett - Prom

A peaceful evening, that’s what he wanted. Once the students were in their room, Logan could finally have some time off with a bottle of beer that he was able to sneak into the school. And since he knew no one would be in the lounge room at this hour, he grabbed the beer and walked there. To his surprise, he was met with Y/N sitting there.

She was surrounded by papers. It seemed she was grading some essays. He observed her. The way her body hunched over the papers, how her head was low, he knew she was almost asleep. But then her head fell a little and she made a sound. Shaking it, she whispered “shit” under her nose and continued to work on the essays.

“Go to bed,” Logan said when he fell on the leather couch.

Y/N’s head lifted, frowning at her colleague and friend sitting there as if he owned the whole damn place. “I need to finish this tonight.”

“You need to rest,” he talked back, annoyed by her stubbornness.

Her eyes followed his every move. The way he sipped the beer, how relaxed he was on the couch and his eyes kept checking out the papers all over the place. “No, I need to grade. Only a few more left.”

Y/N taught English and literature in the school. She wanted to have this out of her neck before she would give them another assignment - that is, if someone would piss her off again, like the last time.

“Need any help?” he offered.

She kinked a brow and grinned. “Have you read The Great Gatsby?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then, unfortunately, you cannot help,” she said with a teasing smile.

“So, what did the kids do to deserve to write an essay?” he asked. His eyes never stopped following her hands over the table as she went through all the papers.

She sighed and put a grade C on the essay she finished correcting. Then she put down a comment, for the student to know what they did wrong. “One of them was rude to me. He made an inappropriate comment and the class laughed at his boldness, or as I’d like to call it, stupidity. He got detention and the whole class had to write an essay.”

Logan chuckled. “You are strict.”

“Well, no offence, but the kids respect you out of fear. They don’t respect me and so I punish them like this,” I glanced at him with a smile and put one of the last essays in front of me. “2500 words is not that much, to be honest. Especially when the theme is: Gender roles in The Great Gatsby.”

He opened his mouth to comment on it but then closed it. “Fair enough.”

Y/N yawned again and rubbed her eyes. She put down the pen and stretched on the couch. “Alright, a little break won’t hurt me. Just a few minutes.”

“You will fall asleep.”

“No, I won’t,” she said with her eyes closed.

“Yeah, you will, Y/N. Don’t argue with me. I know you well,” Logan said grumpily. He knew he was right.

Sighing, she stood up and did more stretching, just to wake up a little. “Now, I won’t.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed at how stubborn she was, again. “Hey, is it true that Colossus is taking you to the prom?”

Y/N stopped moving and slowly turned her attention to him. What the hell was he talking about? “What?” she was confused. “What prom? And no?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “The prom that the Professor promised the students like a month ago. It’s this Saturday,” he reminded her.

With her mouth agape, she sat her ass down on the leather couch, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Shit, I forgot! How could I forget? I never forget anything when it comes to my job, the kids… Shit.”

Logan had to chuckle at her reaction. He found it quite adorable. “Y/N, you’ve been working your ass off for the kids. No wonder you forgot. It’s a good thing I reminded ya.” He drank the rest of the beer in one go. “‘Cuz I’m the best at these things.”

“Fuck, right,” she said with an irony in her voice. She wanted to smash her head against the nearest wall.

Y/N was never the one to forget anything and now, it happened. Where was her head the last few weeks? “I have no dress or shoes or anything,” she started to talk mostly to herself. The panic, tiredness and some anxiety showed in her power that she had thanks to her mutation. A forcefield started to glitch around her.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Uh, princess, you need to calm down,” he said. “Take a few deep breaths before you hurt me.”

Y/N’s forcefield was unique. It could protect but be deadly if she handled it correctly.

She glared at him but did as told. She took a few deep breaths until the glitching forcefield stopped. “You know I hate that nickname,” she growled. Logan was no idiot - she was a liar. She liked those nicknames he called her. It made him chuckle.

“Sure,” Logan winked at her. “Lie to yourself all you want.” He enjoyed it when he could rile her up. “So, do you have a date for this prom?” he asked her again.

“No,” Y/N replied as she started to pack all the papers. “As you didn’t already notice, old man,” she knew where to press his buttons, “I forgot about the whole thing. So, no, no date.”

“Wait,” Logan stopped her before she could leave. “So you are telling me, that you don’t have a date? How is that possible?”

She shrugged. “No one asked me. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I believe Bobby is taking Kitty, and Charles and Storm will be attending together. And I think Colossus will ask Angel to be his date since they have this thing going on.”

“What if I was your date?” Logan suggested nonchalantly. His eyes were fixed on her, watching her reaction - and it was a good one. A sparkle appeared in her irises, she stopped talking and just opened and closed her mouth like a fish underwater. “We could go together if you’d like.”

Her lips twitched to a small smile, intrigued by it. “You’d want to go with me?”

“I wouldn’t mind going as your date,” he said, his voice was a bit husky.

“And here I thought you would like to avoid an event like this,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Too much noise, too many kids at the same place.”

“I am full of surprises, princess,” he winked at her.

That stupid nickname made her roll her eyes. “Fine, you can be my date,” she agreed after a while. “But we still need to look after the students and be responsible teachers,” I warned him. “No booze, sir.”

“What?” he frowned, obviously not happy with that information.”Who made that rule?”

“It’s a student prom and they are all underaged,” I explained to him. “You think the Professor will allow alcohol? Ha, wake up, darling.”

“Look who is using nicknames,” he pointed it out. “I was about to say I am excited about the whole prom thing. This changes everything. I don’t even know if I wanna go.”

Y/N got annoyed by that comment. She gave him an evil glare. “Fuck you, Logan. And here I thought you’d be excited that I agreed to be your date. Maybe I should ask Hank to be my date.”

“Oh, come on, princess, I am messing with ya.”

When Y/N was sure she had all her belongings, she walked away from him. “Goodnight, Logan,” she sang to him.

She couldn’t see but Logan had a gentle smile on his face, pleased by all the teasing. There was some excitement bubbling inside of him. She agreed to go to that stupid prom with him.

Y/N hid in her room where she finished grading the last essays. She didn’t let herself think about anything, or anyone until the work was done. Luckily, the last essays were very good and they all received an A.

She changed into a T-shirt and shorts and got into her bed. The moment she turned the light off, she thought back to the last half an hour - to the part where Logan asked her to be his date for the school prom.

A laugh escaped her throat. The Wolverine asked her to be his date for a school prom. How surreal.

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks got hot. The truth was, she liked Logan a lot. There was something eye-gripping and panties-dropping about him. In the past, she would date the exact opposite men than was he. And the way Logan would mess with her, she secretly loved it.

With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

The next few days were normal. She taught English and Literature classes and found the time to dress shop with Angel two days before the prom. She found a beautiful red dress with secret pockets on each side and an exposed back. It had a deep cleavage that would show her breasts perfectly.

“So, found a dress yet?” Logan stopped by her side the day before the prom. He was standing close behind her, breathing in her scent.

“Aren’t you a curious soul,” she tilted her head and grinned. “You know what they say: Curiosity killed the cat.”

“What if I want to match a tie?” he asked innocently, to which she had to laugh. “I am serious, Y/N.”

Y/N turned around and was met with his eyes staring into her. She pressed a book closer to her chest and smirked at him. “See, if I tell you my dress is blue, would you put on a blue tie?”

He made a face. “No,” he said seriously.

“So why ask if you won’t do it anyway.”

“Come on, Y/N, tell me,” he nudged her shoulder.

She laughed and pushed him out of her way. “I want it to be a surprise, so stop being nosy,” she winked at him and left to teach another class.

Logan grinned when she left him standing in the hallway, but there was one person who saw the interaction - Hank. The Beast passed by him in the hallway, staring at the Wolverine, chuckling. “You two are unbelievable,” he commented.

“Shut up,” he growled at Hank.

“Come on, it’s… adorable,” he said the word carefully.

Logan rolled his eyes, already done with the conversation. He walked down the hallway to his class where he taught history.

He had a thing for her and he couldn’t even lie to himself about it. Logan’s eyes would linger on her longer than necessary. He would watch her leave and stare at her back until she was gone (well, he stared at her ass, because god, it was a good ass.)

When Saturday came, all the students were excited about this event. The girls who came up with the idea of having a prom were praised by many. The boys and men had to help set the outside with balloons, giant speakers, and other decorations. Storm and Kitty were in the kitchen preparing the drinks for the evening - making sure they were non-alcoholic. Charles forbade any kind of alcohol because the students were too young to drink.

Logan was still pissed about it. It was one thing to go to a stupid prom with a beautiful woman by his side, which made him rethink the whole “stupid” thing. But on the other hand - no alcohol? Not even a beer? It would be difficult.

Y/N came to the kitchen with two big boxes on top of each other, followed by Bobby who had another three, keeping them cool. Deserts arrived. They decided that finger food was the best option for this event.

Bobby wanted to take one dessert, but his fingers were smacked by Kitty, who glared at him. “No,” she said strictly.

“But I helped,” he pleaded. When Kitty didn’t permit him one tiny piece of cake, he left the kitchen puffy.

“Will this be enough?” Storm asked when she looked at all the boxes.

“Maybe you should ask that boy, Dean, who can make any food with a snap of his fingers to make us something,” Y/N suggested, smiling innocently.

“Wouldn’t that be mean?” Kitty questioned.

Y/N only shrugged as she walked out of the kitchen. “It’s worth trying,” she then shouted at them when she was farther away.

Logan walked inside the school just as Y/N was about to hit the upper floor. “What’s with the dumb face?” he pointed at her, curious about that smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes squinted, giving him an annoyed expression. “Always so curious, huh?”

“And you are always so mysterious,” he smirked at her.

“You like it, Logan,” she gave him a wink and continued walking up the stairs.

If only she turned to see the smile on his face as he watched her walk up the stairs. “Hey,” he stopped her before she disappeared into the upper level. “Should I come for you tonight?”

Y/N leaned against the wooden bannister. “It depends on…”

“On?”

“What kind of movie effect do you want: ‘Princess walking down the stairs - the Princess effect’ or ‘I shall come for you, my darling to admire you in secret’.” She said the other one dramatically. “So, what do you want?” And then she made the Scales with her hands.

She could see the wheels spinning inside Logan’s head. He thought about what he wanted to happen. And then she heard a faint “fuck” coming out of his lips.

“Both of them sound good, huh?” she smiled brightly, showing him her white teeth. “If you don’t come by 6:30 pm, I’ll know you want the ‘Princess effect’.” And she was gone.

That woman is a fucking tease, he thought. She did things to him and he was hard, painfully hard. Gritting his teeth, he left the hallway and went to the kitchen to fetch himself something to drink.

When he didn’t come by 6:30, Y/N knew he decided on the ‘Princess effect’. She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before she left her room. The prom would start at 7 pm and the teachers had to gather a bit earlier.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She was curious to see Logan’s reaction. Hell, she still couldn’t believe he asked her to this prom. Y/N had to laugh at it. But it was thrilling. There were butterflies inside her stomach, tickling her - or was it her vagina?

As predicted, Logan, Hank and Bobby were chatting at the stairs, all dressed in fancy suits. And from what she could see, Logan chose an all-black suit. Fuck, she thought.

Bobby was the first one who saw her. “Wow,” he said when his eyes landed on her. “You look good, Y/N.”

And then Logan turned and his eyes widened, observing Y/N in her long red dress. She looked gorgeous, like a princess. Fucking princess effect.

There was a slit up her right leg to her thigh that showed up when she walked. Her breasts were screaming at him, as they were pressed against the dress and popping out. The way her hair was loose on her shoulders and her make-up and… he was fucked. Her scent surrounded his being, influencing his every sense.

“Gentlemen,” she greeted them with a soft smile.

“Dressed to kill?” Bobby commented.

“Something like that,” she winked at him. “After all, this is my first prom ever.”

Logan’s eyes still lingered on her face, occasionally drifting to her breasts and then up her neck to her lips and eyes again. He still didn’t say a word to her. Maybe he forgot to talk? Fuck, he forgot to breathe and exist.

“First prom?” Hank was surprised. “If that’s the case,” he looked at Logan and chuckled, “you are doing a splendid job.” He patted Bobby on his shoulder as a sign to leave Logan and Y/N alone.

She made a face and looked at Logan. “Did the ‘Princess effect’ work?”

He released a breath that he was holding. “You look hideous.”

Y/N laughed out loud. She wasn’t offended, because she knew he didn’t mean it at all. “Uh-huh, sure, if you say so.” She reached her hand to his face and helped him close his mouth. “You are drooling.”

“The fuck I am,” he rolled his eyes. Like a gentleman, he gave her his arm to grab. When she did, they walked outside.

They looked like a deadly couple. When they arrived at the outdoor prom, everyone who was present turned their attention to them. Logan, dressed in black, which was shocking as it was, and Y/N in a sexy red dress, was a deadly combo.

Some of the students, who were already there, stared at the couple, whispering about them. Logan could hear their whispers. Enhanced hearing was a blessing and a curse. They couldn’t believe that those two were attending together.

Is Mr. Howlett dating Miss Y/L/N?

How could she say yes to him?

How the hell did that happen?

More students came and the prom could finally start. The music was loud, drinks and finger food were served and the students had a great time. The teachers stood together at a drinks table, talking. Compliments were flying around. The women even admired how Logan looked in his suit, but he would grumble something under his nose. He was getting grumpier by the second. He desperately needed alcohol or anything else that would help him survive the night.

“Shit,” Y/N gasped when her eyes found Johny zapping other girls with his electric ability. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan was the first one to watch her leave, eyes travelling up and down her body. “Fuck me,” he cursed.

“We are not blind, Logan,” Charles wheeled to his side, his eyes were in the crowd, watching as Y/N talked to the young student. “And, excuse me, but your thoughts are screaming some things that I wish I didn’t have to hear.”

“So don’t be a creep and listen.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “You should make a move, Logan.”

“We are colleagues,” he said.

“Whatever you say. But we see the chemistry between you two. Plus, you make a good team during missions.”

Annoyed, he turned to Charles to talk back, but the man was already talking to Kitty. Logan shook his head in disbelief. He hated to admit that what Y/N meant to him was something he wished he didn’t want to experience again - out of fear of losing that person, again. She was the air he needed to breathe, the water he needed to drink.

Some teenage boys approached Y/N on the dance floor once she was done with Johny. Logan frowned, not liking how close they were to her. Horny teenagers.

“You look real’ nice teach,” said one of them.

“Wanna dance?”

“No, first with me. I do enjoy your classes the most.”

What a fucking liar, Logan thought. None of the boys were interested in her classes or teaching or her knowledge.

Logan clenched his fists tightly. The more he listened to how those boys talked to her; how their eyes travelled her body, looking where only he should be the one looking, the more he wanted to scare the shit out of them. And when she took a step back, his legs moved forward, determined to step in and shoo them away.

“Is there a problem?” his voice got darker, more intimidating.

The boys feared the great Wolverine and so they quickly stepped back. “We were just…”

“I believe there are other girls more suitable for you,” he hugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go bother them.”

With a snap of fingers, they were gone. They wouldn’t dare to talk back to the Wolverine. And, they feared he would make their lives miserable during history lessons.

“Charming,” Y/N commented, chuckling.

“You should have seen how they were looking at you,” he glared at her. “As if you were their prey.”

“Good thing you came to rescue little ol’ me.”

He rubbed his face with a hand, sighing. “I need a drink. To hell with this no alcohol policy.”

“Already so grumpy? And the prom barely started,” she gently stroked his arm, feeling the muscles under his suit.

“Well, it sucks.”

She took a step closer to him, tilting her head up to watch his face. “You know, this dress has secret pockets and I might have something inside of them that is forbidden this evening.” She gleamed with innocence.

Logan inhaled her sweet scent again. He saw that teasing smile, could feel her body heat and he could breathe her in until the end of his time. “Are you suggesting that there’s some forbidden substance on you right now?”

Her lips crooked into a wicked smile. “Come with me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He walked by her side, farther away from the students and the whole prom, heading to the pond. The estate was vast. It was a perfect place to sneak around at night.

“For a teacher, you know how to break the rules,” he commented.

“Rules are meant to be broken, or am I wrong?”

They stopped by the pond, next to one of the big thick trees standing there proudly. It was a perfect spot to be hidden but also see if any of the students were sneaking away from the party.

They were surrounded by darkness. Only the moon gave them enough light to see each other’s faces.

Y/N reached into one of the pockets and took out a black flask. She waved it in front of his eyes. “You are the best, princess,” he said. He was quick enough to take it out of her hand, open it and take a sniff. “Whisky?” he was surprised.

“Please, repeat that I am the best, go on,” she goaded him.

“You are the fucking best, princess,” he said and took a sip of the liquid. “Damn.”

He handed her the flask and it was her turn to drink. “We are the two most irresponsible teachers. How can Charles trust us with the kids?” She put the flask to her lips and drank the liquid. It burned her throat and she turned up her nose. “It’s been a while since I had whisky.”

“Why drink if you don’t like it?”

“Who says I don’t like it?”

“Your face,” he grabbed the flask from her again.

“Rude, you know that?” she made an offended face.

“Shut up,” he laughed at her and drank once more. “You’re a bad influence, you know that, eh?

She raised a brow. “Are you complaining? I can take the flask and leave you here while I enjoy the drinking alone.” Y/N reached for the flask but he grabbed her wrist tightly.

“Don’t you dare, princess,” he huffed. “You’d let old man suffer like this?”

She scoffed. “What a fucking liar.”

“I’m over 150 years old,” he states, his hand not leaving her wrist. “So, yeah, I’m old.”

“Uh-huh, ancient even,” she put a mocking smile on her face. “ The Smithsonian called, they want their fossil back.”

“Very funny.”

Her eyes drifted to his hand wrapped over her wrist. “You know, I don’t mind that you are holding me, but I want to drink.”

Logan clears his throat and lets go of her. “Sorry,” he apologizes.

Y/N drank the whisky. “So Canadian,” she commented, making a fake French accent. “Always apologising.”

“Are we on this again?” Y/N loved to tease him about this. The Canadian jokes were funny. Then again, he would tease her for her European heritage.

“Oui, oui ma chérie,” she replied in the best French she could muster.

“Fuck you with those Canadian jokes.”

“Ha, you wish.”

Logan took the flask out of her hand to drink again. Y/N was quick enough to take it before he could put it to his lips. A new sound escaped Logan’s throat as he pressed himself closer to her to reach for the flask again. He was successful. Y/N wanted to steal it again but Logan put it up in the air, mocking her to take it from there.

The annoyance on her face was evident and he laughed. “Come and get it, princess.”

Y/N tried. To get it, she took a step closer to him and stretched her arms up as much as her body let her. The front of her body pressed against his hard, muscular chest. Logan could feel the shape of her perfect breasts.

His eyes found her. That’s when he realised how close her face was to his. All he needed to do was to lean closer and he would be able to get to her lips - taste them for the first time. Once her breath hit his face, he went for it.

Logan closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against her in their first soft kiss. He tested the waters, just to find out if she wanted this or not. When the kiss deepened, he let the flask drop to the grass and his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Their lips moved, exploring each other lips and mouths. He found a moment where she would grant him access and he pressed his tongue inside her mouth to explore it a bit further.

Y/N’s arms were around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as possible. “Logan,” she moaned his name when his lips moved to her chin and then to her neck. He found a sensitive spot that got her weak in the knees and another moan got out of her throat.

Logan stopped the kissing to look into her face. “Fuck, princess, I dreamt about this for some time now.”

“So why are you stopping now?” she whispered.

“I don’t think I will be able to stop,” he admitted, brushing her lower lip with his thumb.

Y/N took it between her lips and sucked on it. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” she said after she let it out with a pop.

His lips were back on her in a messier kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, biting and pulling. Her hands stroked his chest over the fancy clothes he wore, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. Logan’s hands gripped her ass tightly, enjoying how it felt on his big palms. “I want you, baby girl.”

“I want you too, Logan,” she moaned into his mouth.

He pressed her harshly against the nearest tree they stood by, pushing his body to her. He was painfully hard and there was no way he’d be able to stop now. So when her hand found his bulge, he was a goner.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

His hand found her exposed thigh and it travelled up until he made her wrap the leg around his waist. Then he pressed the bulge against her clothed pussy. And that was rewarded by another sweet moan.

All of a sudden, he stopped and looked into her face. She was breathing heavily, a hint of confusion evident on her face. Her eyes asked why he stopped. Her hands grabbed tightly onto his jacket. “Not here,” Logan said after he caught his breath. He wanted to slap himself for saying that.

“Why not?” she sighed, impatient.

“‘Cuz a princess like you should be treated like one,” he explained. “Plus, tonight you look like a fucking princess.” He wanted the best for her. “And maybe in time, I’d fuck the soul out of you somewhere in the woods.”

A slow smile pulled on her lips. “Ah, so you think about this not being a one-time thing?”

He carefully let her exposed leg go. He then put a finger under her chin. “Fuck, no. You can’t deny there’s somethin’ between us.”

Y/N’s arms were back around his neck, breathing in his scent. He still hadn’t smoked those cigars because there was no trace of the smell on him. Her fingers scrapped his nape and it made him roll his eyes in pleasure. “The teasing, the banter, how we make fun of each other… yeah, there definitely is.”

He hummed. “Plus, everyone can see it, as they kept reminding me the last few days.”

That made her laugh. “Yeah, I had my talk with Ororo.”

Y/N pushed her back from the three and she yelped in pain. Some of the wood scratched her back. “Fuck,” she cursed.

“And that is another reason why we should take this somewhere else,” he said as his hand brushed her hair off the back and swiped off some of the bits of wood and dirt. He could smell a bit of blood.

Before they headed back to the dance, Logan picked the flask from the ground. There was some alcohol left. He handed it to her and she took a sip. Afterwards, he drank the rest of it. They walked side by side, his big hand brushing against her smaller one. Here and there, they would give one another fleeting stares.

“I’m gonna take you for a ride tomorrow,” he said out of nowhere and that got her attention. “What do you say?”

“Oh, like a date?” she nudged his shoulder. “I didn’t know you do that. I always thought that you were above these things. You know, toxic masculinity and shit.”

“Now you hurt my feelings, princess.”

“I’m just messing with you, Lo’. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not surprised. I really didn’t picture you as the one who would ask a girl on a date. It’s nice.”

“So, is that a yes?”

Quickly, she got on her tiptoes, pulled on his hand to lean a bit to her and she kissed him on the bearded cheek. “Yes.”

When they came back to the prom, they kept some of the distance between them. Kitty was the first to approach them. “Hey, I think the Professor said no alcohol,” she pointed at the flask that Y/N was holding in her left hand.

“Cough syrup,” she said innocently.

Logan had to hold back his laugh. Kitty, on the other hand, shook her head in disapproval. She watched as her friend put the flask into a pocket of her dress. “Sneaky.”

“I told her she’s a bad influence,” Logan commented. That earned him a slap on the shoulder.

Someone’s gentle fingers brushed against her back. “What happened to you?” Ororo’s voice came from behind her. She found the tiny scratches on her back. When she moved her hair to the side, there were more of them.

“Oh,” Y/N waved a hand. “Just slippery grass and I bumped into a tree.”

Kitty made a face and Ororo glared at her too, knowing she was lying to them. Then their eyes were on Logan. “She’s fucking clumsy.”

“Right,” Ororo commented.

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to the bathroom,” she said. Nothing better came to her mind to get away from that situation. And with her head high, she left her friends and Logan standing there.

Y/N ended up in one of the closest bathrooms where she tried to take a peek at her back, to see how bad it was. She was able to see some scratches on the left side of her shoulder, but it was not that bad. Yes, there were scratches and some blood, but nothing horrible. All she needed was to clean it off with a wet cloth.

Her sigh reverberated through the room. It all kept coming back to her - the way his lips felt, how he kissed her and touched her. How he pressed her against the tree, ready to have his way with her. Fuck, he was packing. She thought they would fuck there, right against the tree, but he didn’t want to. And it all brought a smile to her face.

Y/N had been pining for him for some time now. In her eyes, Logan was the exact opposite of a man that she would date in the past. He was the epitome of a man. She couldn’t count how many times her panties dropped when she talked to him, or when he did something. And those damn claws. Fuck!

After washing her hands, she left the bathroom and headed back to the prom. Maybe she could ask him to dance with her? Would he?

That didn’t happen because Logan was standing at the stairs, waiting.

“Why are you not outside?” she asked.

He reached a hand to her. She eyed him, curious why he did that, but gave him her hand. “Just come,” was all he said.

Logan took her upstairs, all the way back to her room. He was inside maybe twice, never paying her room any special attention until now.

She had a guitar by the table, a queen-sized bed with a night table and a lamp. Her walls were decorated with shelves and books. It was a cosy room, better than his. Y/N opened her mouth to question him. Logan made her sit on the bed. “You have a disinfection?”

She peaked at him through her dark lashes. “Bathroom.”

Logan went to the other door in the room where found a shower, toilet and a sink with cabinets and a mirror. He went to the cabinet under the sink where he found a box marked a first aid kit.

He sat behind her on the bed, brushing her hair away from her shoulders so he could have a peek at her exposed back. Without words, he cleaned the tiny scratches from the tree. “Shit, there’s some wood inside this one,” he cursed once he found one wound that needed more treatment.

He found tweezers that helped him get out the piece of wood. She didn’t even flinch. Once he was done, he put the first aid kit back in the bathroom.

Y/N stood up and waited for his return. “How will I repay you, my knight in shining armour?”

His actions spoke louder than words. He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close to his body, his lips back on her as they were over half an hour ago. Her hands removed his black jacket and let it fall on the floor.

“You look so hot in a suit,” she mumbled between the kisses. “I could eat you up.”

He chuckled. “I think that is my line, princess. Now, tell me, how much do you like that dress?”

Y/N stopped everything she was doing and took a step back. “Oh no no, do not touch the dress with your claws. It was fucking expensive and I like it.”

That playful grin on his face would be her death. He sat down on her bed and took off the tie. “Take it off for me, now, or,” he looked down at his fist as his three adamantium claws came out of his skin. “Or there will be no dress left.”

Her fingers found the tiny zipper on her side. Y/N’s eyes never left his dark eyes, boring into them as she teasingly took off the dress as he commanded her. His claws were gone once he stood in front of him only in her red thong.

“Fuck, princess, look at you.” He ogled her from head to toe, his eyes lingering longer on her perky breasts. Her body had beautiful curves that he dreamt about for a long time.

Y/N was quick to get to him and sat on his lap, pressing her pussy against his hard bulge. Her hands grabbed the middle of his black button-up. He couldn’t let a sound out, she ripped the buttons, exposing his hard-toned chest.

“How is that fair?” he snarled.

“And how is it fair that I am almost naked here while you sit here, all comfy and clothed?” she cocked her eyebrow. She took the piece of clothing off him completely, admiring everything and anything on him - those toned arms and shoulders, that chest, and fuck, even though he was a hairy man, she was into it. Her fingers dug into his skin, leaving deep red marks on his chest.

His lips found her neck in delicate kisses that he pressed to her skin, trailing down to her collarbones until he found her chest and latched onto her nipples hungrily. “These tits were made for me.” He bit onto one, making her yelp.

Y/N’s hands went between their bodies, finding his belt and zipper, trying to get inside of them hurriedly. “Impatient?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She heard his dark chuckle that then turned into a moan once her hand got inside his trousers and grabbed his length. “Princess, don’t be a tease.”

With his help, the rest of his clothes were gone. Logan lay down on her bed, watching her crawl on top of him. Her breasts were right at his face. One piece of clothing was separating her sweet cunt and his cock and that was the damn thong. One of his claws got out of his hand and precisely tore the piece of fabric without hurting her. He took the damaged panties away and threw them on the ground.

“Now, are you gonna stare at me or are you gonna ride me with that sweet pussy of yours?” His hands then rested on her thighs, lazily travelling up to her sides and then to her gorgeous breasts, squeezing them. His fingers tweaked her hard nipples, making her moan for him.

“Come on, princess, be a good girl and ride me.”

Y/N grabbed his cock and aligned it with her entrance, carefully sinking onto it. Her mouth was agape as she kept her eyes locked onto his one. “Fuck, so thick.”

First, the pace was slow. She tried to get used to his girth. After a few thrusts, she sped up. Logan’s hands grabbed her and they entwined their fingers. “Shit, sweetheart, you squeeze me so well. Your pussy is amazing.”

“Logan,” she said his name hoarsely.

He quickly lost his patience and switched them. Y/N landed on her bed with a huff and he entered her before she realised what happened. The room filled with skin-on-skin slapping sounds. He fucked her rough and fast. Y/N’s nails dung into the skin on his back. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t hurt him.

His left hand went between their bodies until he found her clit and toyed with it. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I’m s-so close. Fuck.”

“Come on, cum for me, princess. I wanna feel you.” He put her right leg over his shoulder and got deeper than before. “I can feel you’re close. Come on, cum for me.”

It took a few more thrusts and some strokes on her clit when she climaxed. The way her cunt squeezed his cock brought him to his peak fast and he spilled inside her, coating her walls white. “Ah!”

“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed as his thrusts got sloppier, slower. He stopped once her pussy stopped spasming and his release ended.

Their breaths were heavy. Her chest was heaving and it was a beautiful sight to watch her breasts move in front of his eyes. He latched onto one of the nipples, sucking on it. “Fucking beautiful.”

Then their lips connected in a heated kiss, tongues battling. She giggled when he looked back at her. “Damn,” she whispered. “That was hot. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Logan was curious. He rolled next to her side.

She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest, breathing in his scent. “How about,” she started slowly. “Tomorrow, after you take me for a ride on your bike, I ride you on your bike?”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You will be the death of me, princess.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #Logan Howlett fanfiction #X-Men fanfiction

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slut4thebroken · 3 months

Text

Teacher’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most.

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay.

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk.

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work.

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively.

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense.

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh.

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink.

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned.

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.”

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.”

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.”

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?”

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.”

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.”

“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly.

“No, but,”

“Then I think we’re done here.”

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now.

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze.

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little.

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments.

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit.

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk.

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained.

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile.

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused.

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter.

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly.

“See them?”

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone.

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.”

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back.

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.”

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down.

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again.

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention.

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?”

“Anything else?”

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again.

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said.

“Um, I- I’m not sure…”

“Feel free to use your notes.”

Fuck.

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly.

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself.

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back.

“I��ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings.

“But,”

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave.

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside.

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on.

“Professor?” You finally asked.

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier.

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk.

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking.

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,”

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again.

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now.

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you.

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.”

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not.

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.”

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.”

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush.

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly.

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly.

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours.

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk.

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you.

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in.

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around.

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you.

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair.

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.”

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy.

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far.

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy.

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter.

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod.

“Good. Let’s begin.”

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh.

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.”

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor.

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg.

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other.

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months.

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly.

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened.

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…”

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.”

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago.

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.”

“That’s good… Anything else?”

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.”

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?”

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.”

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you.

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone.

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words.

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical.

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely.

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?”

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss.

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants.

“Yes.” You whispered shakily.

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.”

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock.

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.”

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh.

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty.

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet.

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out.

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch.

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you.

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you.

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?”

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced.

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes.

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.”

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you.

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock.

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach.

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you.

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness.

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.”

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..”

“Should I choose for you?”

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure.

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations.

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity.

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need.

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove.

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing.

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal.

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again.

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances.

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.”

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead.

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste.

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.”

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #cillian murphy

735 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

Note

Hi!! If you know the reference where the person A says the moon is beautiful without noticing the Person B saying yes beautiful while staring at Person A (//∇//) can I have that with the batboys? I know it’s corny lol thank you!

I hope this was what you envisioned but idk.

‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’ You said.

Jason who’s eyes never left you for a single second, seeing no point in staring at anything else when everything he’s ever wanted was right next to him, smiled at your need to bring attention to the beauty of other things others may walk right past by without a second thought.

‘The moons always has been beautiful, and it will only grow more beautiful as time continues.’ He replied.

You looked over at him, only to see that he was staring at you fondly and with a dopey smile spread across his lips, and immeditly felt very exposed by the way he looked at you as though you had intricately hung the very moon and stars above by hand. It was a look you weren’t use to being on the receiving end of -having only heard of similar looks being talked about in books or seen in movies- but now that you were you were at a loss on what to say or do.

‘You really mean that?’ You asked, finding a loose bit of fabric on your clothing extremely interesting all of a sudden.

‘I’d gladly say it a million times over if it makes it more easily believed.’ Jason said as he moved closer to you until your shoulders were touching, he then gently grabbed your hand away from fiddling the loose bit of fabric of your shirt and intertwined your fingers together, not once had his eyes left your person the entire time.

You smiled at him as you leaned yourself into him, leeching off of his warmth as you tried to go back to looking at the moon, but found it hard once you were made aware of the fact that Jason was staring directly at you as though he found something much more interesting to focus all of his attention on. ‘It’s hard to not believe it when your eyes look at me like that.’ You told him.

Jason tilts his head. ‘Like what sweetheart?’

‘Like I’m special.’ You replied.

Jason then chuckles before kissing the top of your head softly as he then rests his head against the side of yours. ‘I could write an entire essay on how special you are to me and still it wouldn’t be enough, so yeah you are special, more than you could possibly imagine.’

Dick smiled as he propped up his head in his hands as he watched how the moonlight practically illuminated you in your entirety.

It was almost as if a spotlight had shone down on you, making Dick unable to look elsewhere but you and that gorgeous smile that blossomed across your face, not that he needed to be forced to look at you when he could be doing so for the rest of his life if he was allowed that simple luxury.

‘The moon sure is beautiful indeed, can barely take my eyes off them.’ Dick said softly in response.

You then looked over at Dick, only to see him looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and your face become warm. ‘You can stop looking at me now.’ You tell him.

Dick leaned against the railing with a cheeky smile. ‘Why? I was enjoying the view.’ He replied.

‘Oh so I’m the view now?’ You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

‘You always were the view babe,’ Dick said, ‘a view so beautiful I could barely take my eyes off of and I’m lucky enough to get to see it as often as I do.’ He adds as he pushed himself off the railing and walked towards you and held you by the arms.

‘You’re a sap.’ You laughed, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer.

Dick watched as you laughed and took the time to mentally engrave this moment to his memory, from the way your mouth opened to laugh, to the way your whole face practically light up and the way you stood out amongst the rest of the bright, vibrant lights. ‘Yeah but I’m your sap.’ He retorted as he held you against his chest as you both soaking in the moonlight together, all the while only ever looking at one another.

Tim

Was speechless, the words he had preplanned earlier within the day to say to you had long left him as he could only admire you as you basked in the moonlight and looking ethereal amidst the artificial city lights.

This was a state he often found himself in whenever you were just standing there and it was a little embarrassing for him because it only made him think of how obvious he had been about his feelings this entire time. However he couldn’t exactly blame you for being the epitome of perfection and beauty simply just by existing, Tim didn’t know it could be possible to feel this strongly about someone but here he was, unable to speak his mind in your presence without admiring your every feature as though he was seeing you for the first time again.

You furrowed your brows when you didn’t hear Tim say anything, becoming worried that he might’ve passed out from the lack of sleep he’s had recently and went to look over at him, only to see him looking at you with a wide eyed expression and flushed cheeks.

‘Tim, are you okay?’ You asked, moving towards him.

‘The moon is extremely beautiful tonight yes, even when they are within close proximity.’ Tim blurted out and you stopped when it hit you that he wasn’t talking about the moon, but more so about you and now you were both stood in silence and extremely flustered.

‘That’s, that’s really sweet of you Tim.’ You said, breaking the prolonged silence between the two of you as you felt butterflies within your stomach and a warmth spread throughout your chest.

‘It’s- I was only speaking the truth.’ Tim scratched the back of his head as he looked away from you for a split second before looking back at you, gauging your reaction as a positive one and took the chance to shuffle closer to you.

Tim had been in dangerous situations before but being this close to you, sharing a heartfelt moment between the two of you was enough to have him unable to think properly, his emotions were running rampant within him as his heart was unable to remain at a steady and consistent pace the more he was near you to the point he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of it.

‘Well I appreciate you being truthful,’ you tell him, flashing him a smile that almost ended him with how sweet, kind and loving it was, ‘it’s one of the many things I like about you Tim.’ You add as you then rested your head on his shoulder as poor Tim could only stand there stiff as a bored, but that didn’t matter as a smile grew across his lips and rested his head atop of yours, not wanting to say anything else incase it ruined the perfect mood.

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little-diable · 4 months

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Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by.

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to.

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats.

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest.

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.”

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by.

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs.

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then.

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme.

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church.

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground.

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.”

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint.

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him.

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes.

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue.

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by.

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment.

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know.

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind.

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n).

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment.

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n).

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space.

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap.

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit.

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish.

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.”

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety.

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.”

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls.

#Tom Riddle smut #priest fic #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle imagine

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