#Professor X Imagine
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Do you write for charles xavier?? If so cloud we get a reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy? I hope you have a good day!
I hope you don't mind I wrote this Pre Wheels Charles
The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Xavier Institute, casting warm, golden light across the vast room where Charles Xavier sat, surrounded by papers, books, and a holographic display projecting data from Cerebro. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the delicate task of tracking mutant activity across the globe. The mansion was unusually quiet, with the other X-Men off on various missions or training sessions. It was a rare moment of peace, one that Charles was determined to use to catch up on work.
And then, you appeared.
“Charles?” Your voice broke the silence, drawing his attention away from the screen.
“Yes?” He looked up, his expression patient but slightly distracted.
“What are you doing?” You leaned against the doorframe, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Just some work,” he replied, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.
You nodded, stepping further into the room. “Looks important.”
“It is,” Charles confirmed, his eyes drifting back to the hologram. He tried to refocus, but he could feel your presence, still lingering, still watching.
“Everyone else is busy,” you continued, moving closer to his desk. “Scott, Jean, Logan—they’re all off doing something. I’m bored.”
Charles glanced up again, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And so you’ve come to bother me?”
“Pretty much,” you said with a grin, leaning on his desk now. “What’s that?” You pointed to the hologram.
“Mutant activity tracking. I’m trying to—”
“Sounds complicated,” you interrupted, picking up one of the pens on his desk and twirling it between your fingers.
“It is,” he said, still smiling despite himself. He could sense your playfulness, and though he knew he needed to focus, he couldn’t help but be charmed by your persistence.
You sighed dramatically, putting the pen down and plopping into the chair across from him. “Can I help?”
“I’m not sure this is something you’d find very interesting,” he said diplomatically, though the idea of you sifting through the data with him did amuse him.
You groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why is everyone always so busy? It’s like this whole saving-the-world thing never ends.”
Charles chuckled softly. “It does tend to keep us occupied.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, Charles thought you might have given up. He returned his attention to the hologram, his fingers hovering over the controls.
But then, you spoke again. “Charles?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever just—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you ever just want to take a break from all this? From being the wise professor and the leader of the X-Men? Just…be Charles for a while?”
Charles looked at you, truly looked, and saw the sincerity in your eyes. It wasn’t just boredom driving you to seek him out; it was a desire for connection, for a moment of normalcy in a life that was anything but.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, the work momentarily forgotten. “Yes, I do. More often than you might think.”
You smiled, a warm, understanding smile that made something in his chest loosen. “Then maybe you should take a break. Just for a little while. You deserve it.”
Charles regarded you thoughtfully. “And what would you have me do during this break?”
“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin, “I was thinking we could take a walk in the garden. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could raid the kitchen for some of those cookies Hank made yesterday.”
Charles laughed, a genuine, light-hearted sound that echoed in the quiet room. “Cookies and a walk in the garden, you say?”
“Maybe even some tea,” you added with a playful wag of your eyebrows.
He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re very persuasive.”
“It’s one of my many talents,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand.
Charles looked at the work spread out before him, then back at you. The world could wait a little while longer. With a nod, he reached out and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.
“Alright,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Let’s go see about those cookies.”
As you led him out of the study, chatting animatedly about all the things you wanted to do, Charles couldn’t help but feel grateful for the interruption.
#charles xavier#charles xavier imagine#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier oneshot#professor x imagine#x men imagine#xmen 97
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maybe i'm a man | charles xavier
Summary: You visit Charles some time after Cuba. You're devastated by what you find.
Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!mutant!reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: depressed Charles, implied alcoholism, reader washes charles's hair and takes care of him, charles has super low self esteem. set during x-men: days of future past.
the divider
The mansion is embalmed in time.
Except for the obvious grief—signs cracked in half and picture frames shattered—it’s largely unchanged. You remember the first time you went inside. It had been Raven who'd invited you in. But it was Charles that made you return.
And you suppose, like this mansion, that some things never change.
You'd waited for Hank to leave. You could've used your powers and sung him to sleep, but out of respect, you waited two days until he had to go get groceries.
It's easy enough to enter. Worryingly so. The old Charles would've sensed you already. But you know he’s here. You haven’t seen him leave, and Hank wouldn’t be here alone.
You don't know what this new Charles will do. You'd heard that he wasn't well, that he'd been wasting away since Cuba. Everything unspooled; the grief of losing Raven and Erik had strained your relationship with Charles, and you'd gotten into an ugly fight.
You don't know what to expect. Maybe an order to leave. You don't know if you have it in you to ignore that order.
The air is dead. Sunlight streams through dusty windows, but it feels artificial. No life can sustain here.
That frightens you more than anything. It's like you're in a tomb. Charles Xavier has always been the sun. Full of laughter and warmth.
You climb the stairs to the hall of rooms. You don't want to alert Charles to your arrival, though he'd know by now if you were here. Still, you try to stay quiet.
You try his office first. Empty. Dusty. Filled with cobwebs.
You go to his bedroom next. The door is shut. You expect resistance, but it opens easily.
And there on the bed lies Charles.
He's unrecognizable at first. His hair is oily and plastered to his forehead. He's propped up on a pillow, blankets to his chin.
He coughs, hard and wet. You wince at the congestion.
"Charles?" you say, closing the door behind you.
Charles barely moves his head. His eyes are glazed with sickness. You walk closer. His lips are cracked, cheeks sunken in. You frown and crouch next to the bed, by his face. He smells like liquor.
His eyes slide to you. He gasps.
"You're here," he croaks.
"I am," you say, and boldly reach for his hand. He lets you hold it. "Were you expecting me?"
"I don't expect anyone anymore."
Charles coughs hard. You feel his forehead. It's alarmingly hot.
"You're burning up," you say, leaning in. "Why would Hank leave you like this?"
He shakes his head. "'S alright. He'll come back."
Weakly, he squeezes your hand. "I've missed you." His eyes well up. Your heart cracks. Any ill feelings in your gut slip away with his admission.
"Baby, why didn't you call me?" you ask, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his.
Charles closes his eyes. "I was proud and hurt. I'm a selfish man. I know this. 'S why everyone left."
"You aren't selfish, Charles," you say, petting his unkempt hair. "You're the most generous person I know."
"Oh, you are much kinder in my head than I deserve," he says, and pulls away to sit up.
You watch, startled, as Charles draws his legs in, evidently free of his paralysis.
"How did you... you can walk?"
"Hank generated a serum." Charles rubs his thigh. His next words are bitter. "I am cured. Glory be."
He coughs again, and this time, his face turns red. He slumps against the headboard, exhausted.
"Have you had tea?" you ask.
"No, I'm quite a shit host, love. My hands shake too much for tea."
"Charles," you say quietly. He looks at you. His eyes well up again.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers. "I hope to God you're doing well. I wish nothing but good for you."
You exhale shakily, attempting to maintain your composure. What a mistake it was, leaving the man you love.
"Come on, honey," you say, tugging his hand. "Let me wash your hair, and then I'll make you some tea. How's that sound?"
Charles smiles, mouth quivering. "Yes, that sounds nice. Sounds like a wonderful memory."
He lets you guide him to the en-suite bathroom. You bring along one of his pillows so he can sit comfortably against the edge of the bathtub. You turn on the faucet.
You roll up a clean towel and cushion Charles's neck with it. He obediently leans back, gazing up at you with those gemstone blues.
"I can shave you too, if you'd like," you say, feeling the water temperature.
Charles blinks in confusion. "You've never done that before."
"No," you say, taking the shower head and pulling the shower diverter. Warm water sprays from the head. You begin to rinse his hair, gently separating the tiny tangles. You'll go in with a comb later.
"But I've never seen you scruffy either," you say, smiling. "Makes you look very rugged, Professor."
"You're making me feel old on purpose with that Professor business," he says, but smiles back.
Charles reaches out to hold your knee, stroking with his thumb. It's so familiar it makes you ache.
You turn off the water and flip open the conditioner first, intent on getting out the knots. You get the comb from the sink.
"Let me know if it hurts," you say, loading Charles's hair with conditioner.
"You're always gentle with me.”
You don't know what to say to that, so you remain silent. You comb his hair, working in sections to detangle. Charles doesn't complain once, but you're sure that some of the big knots pull at his scalp. So in apology, you massage his head at the end.
"You could start a very successful spa with your abilities," he says. "Scalp massage first, sung to sleep second. People would come from all over to experience such a thing."
"And would you be by my side, soothing pain-in-the-ass customers?" you ask.
He hums. "In this world, always. I'd never choose to leave you."
And that's a bit too raw for you to reply to, so you murmur for Charles to close his eyes. He does so, and you rinse out the conditioner.
Then you lather his hair with shampoo. You take your time, scrubbing until his hair is white with foamy suds.
"I love you."
Charles's eyes are open. They're locked on you. He's desperate to hear it back.
"I love you too," you say, and lean in to kiss his forehead. Charles swallows hard.
You go to rinse his hair but he takes your wrist, stopping you. Then he pulls you down to him.
You keep your soapy hands over the tub as Charles kisses you for real, cupping the side of your face. It's a long kiss, but he doesn't try to deepen it. Charles seems content to just feel your skin against his.
"I'm sorry," he says. He begins to shake. "God forgive me, I'm so sorry. I wish it were different. I lost everyone. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
You hush him, pressing your cheek against his. "It's okay. It's okay, sweetie. Shh, it's alright. I forgive you."
Charles cries as you rinse his hair. He holds your waist as you lean over him. As soon as the soap is gone, you turn off the faucet and hug him back. Charles clings to you. He buries his face in your neck and clutches you like he's afraid you'll disappear at any moment.
“No-no one’s touched me in so long,” he says through tears. “I only dream of you. I wish you were real.”
"I am real," you say, a little disconcerted. "Charles, honey, I'm here."
But he just cries more, so you let it go. You reach behind him and take the towel to dry his hair. You soak up as much water as you can, not wanting to make him sicker with wet hair.
“How about a tooth brushing, hm?” you ask, cradling him to you. “Can you manage that, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes,” he says, gulping air. “Yes, I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
Charles forces himself back, eyes closed. He keeps them shut as you get up and put toothpaste on his toothbrush. Confused, you prod his hand to take the brush.
Charles flinches, eyes flying open. He looks around, taking in the bathroom, then you.
“You… you’re really here,” he says, body frozen. “How are you here? Where’s Hank?”
“He went shopping…”
Charles stares at the melting toothpaste on the toothbrush. He’d really believed you were a hallucination or a dream. You put the toothbrush on the sink edge and sit in front of him.
“Charles,” you say. His eyes flick to you. “I’m here. I’m not a dream. You’re really seeing me. You’re awake. Okay?”
Slowly, you reach for him. His chest rises and falls rapidly. You hold his arm. Charles breaks down.
“Why did you come back?” he asks, voice cracking. “Why are you seeing me like this? I’m weak and pitiful.”
“You’re hurting,” you say, cupping his face. “You’re hurting and you can’t heal alone.”
Charles shakes his head. “I couldn't save anyone.”
“You don’t have to save anyone,” you say. “You can just be, Charles.”
“I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Can’t be anything but a burden.”
“Then I’ll sing you to sleep. And I’ll make you tea. And I’ll wash your hair.”
He bows his head. “I’m not worth it.”
You hug him, rest your head against his. “If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t dare say such a thing.”
“Anyone else would be worth it.”
You pull back and take the toothbrush. The toothpaste is nearly liquid, but it’s okay. You give it to him.
Charles takes the toothbrush. He looks at you, eyes bloodshot and face swollen.
“I failed,” he says. “I failed you. I failed everyone.”
“You don��t have to win to live,” you say, pushing the brush to his mouth. “I never expected that from you, Charles.”
You know who does. You know who shoots losing dogs.
Charles brushes his teeth. You hold his hand the whole time. Then you help him stand and spit. He rinses his mouth. He looks at you in the mirror. Then he looks away.
“I’m sorry you have to see me this way,” he says. “All rotten.”
You take Charles’s hand and lead him out the door. You try to remember the last time you took his hand. The last time you told him you loved him. You wonder if he’d always felt rotten. More trouble than he was worth.
You vow to convince him otherwise.
“Let me make you tea.”
#Charles xavier x reader#Charles Xavier x you#professor x x you#professor x imagine#x-men imagine#xmen fanfiction#xmen x reader#Charles Xavier imagine#Charles Xavier fanfic#professor x fanfic#xmen imagine#Charles Xavier x gender neutral reader#Charles Xavier x-men days of future past
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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"
just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible
#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order#at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers#90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit “lost copies”#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent#like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries#but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate#and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something#cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare#and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity#and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media#and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons#and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators#instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period#anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate “value”#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives#so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world#(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin#oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value#and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the#important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)
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This post was supposed to be a long story but I got impatient and posted it. Now we have the full story. Hope y’all like it as much as I do. <3
Orc professor
Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum play, breeding, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink
It was your third failed mini-test when you thought enough was enough. Your hot orc professor was too attractive for your sanity. He was so hot with his cardigans and whatever he wore that you were always distracted, unable to take notes. It was his fault, and you needed to remedy that before you failed the whole class. You just needed to talk to him and see what could you do to pass. You’ll do some extra homework, maybe write a few more papers. Anything. A naughty part of you wanted to offer him sex favors, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of orc. Maybe.
You knocked on his office door and heard the muffled “come in”. You opened the door and your breath was taken away because how fucking attractive he was. The black framed glasses and salt and pepper hair just accentuating his green skin. Your panties got wet instantly. Fuck. Why had he to be so fucking hot? It would be a lot easier if he was just an old wrinkly dude.
“What do you need from me?” He looked up from the papers he was grading and that look combined with that phrase made your pussy tingle. Fuck, you were so turned on by everything he did.
He could be talking about the condensation of the trees in the desert and you’ll be panting in the back of the class, panties wet. And right now, you were worried your arousal was going to form a wet patch in your pants. This needed to be fast before you embarrassed yourself.
“I- I want to know if I can do some extra activities to improve my performance in your class.” You told him as fast as you could, sitting down in front of him and trying really hard not to rub your thighs together.
The frantic pulse of your heart was mirrored on your clit, and it was driving you completely crazy. Being so close to him was like an aphrodisiac in itself.
“What kind of activities do you suggest?” He seemed uninterested. Some part inside of you got mad at him, you were clearly trying to improve and he looked like an asshole who didn’t care if his students passed or not. And for some reason that only made him hotter. You needed to get laid soon before you humped his leg or something.
“I- I don’t know. I just need to pass your class. Please, I’ll do anything,” you begged. You were sure it was too much, but he looked at you, a spark of interest in his dark pupils.
You realized how bad it sounded when you thought about it. You tried to take it back, say you didn’t mean it like that, but then he surprised you asking back: “Anything?” His smirk was enough to send lighting down your pussy, your panties soaking through your clothes. Good Goddess, how was he so fucking hot?
Contrary to your better judgment, and probably thinking just with your southern parts, you matched his teasing tone as you answered: “Yes, yes. Anything.” You leaned closer to his table, showing more tits than you knew you should. But fuck it. If you couldn’t pass this class, at least you could fuck the hottest professor on campus.
He leaned back on his chair, his eyes flickering to your almost exposed breasts. He hummed and finally said: “Okay, little human, we’ll make a deal.” You nodded eagerly, so ready to do whatever he asked.
If he asked you to get naked and suck his cock right there, you would fall to your knees so fast he wouldn’t even see you moving. You were more than ready, so wet and needy you could feel the wetness pooling inside your thighs, probably through your pants. The walk home was going to be so uncomfortable. Ugh.
But you weren’t expecting his offer to be so filthy, so nasty. “Each morning, you’ll arrive a bit early, and you will handle me your panties. Used panties. And I want you to take them off in front of me, so I suggest you start wearing those slutty skirts you love so much.” You were bamboozled by his words.
Did he notice you? Did he like your skirts, too? He must like them if he noticed you wearing them so often. And he though they were slutty (they were, and you might or might not wear them to see if he reacted). A part of you wanted to be offended, but the other part of you was ready to say yes. Yes to that, yes to anything.
He interpreted your silence as agreement and kept talking. “If you do that, you will pass my class. That works for you?” He was back to looking uninterested, but you saw right through his facade.
His hand was resting suspiciously close to his groin, and you could almost make the outline of a dick. A huge dick, but you weren’t sure. You wanted to lean closer to inspect it, but you refrained, your head spinning with everything that just happened.
“Yes. Yes. Perfect. I’ll do it. Thank you, thank you, thank you…” You repeated a dozen times before he dismissed you. There was a big grin on his face when you left. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass as you walked out. Point for you.
The first couple days it went without a hitch. You arrived early, and he was always there, expecting you with a knowing smirk. You usually made a show of pushing your panties down your legs and grabbing them, never actually showing him anything, but making it obvious that you were enjoying yourself with the game you two were playing. He always smelled them and hummed appreciatively, making your clit get excited instantly. You loved when men were vocal in bed. In his case, when monster’s were.
Where all monsters more vocal than humans? You never slept with a monster before. You always wanted to try, but never knew someone who excited you as much as your orc professor. The first time you saw him you tripped on your feet and almost hit the ground. He was so much older than you, he could probably be your father, but good lord if you wouldn’t love to call him daddy.
After the fourth day giving him your panties, you got a bit bolder. You turned around and bent down, making sure he was seeing your naked pussy and fat ass as you did so. The red lacy panties barely covered your wet pussy as you pushed them down your legs. He growled loudly at you when he saw them, you groaned softly. When you handled the panties to him, his eyes were as dark as a storm and you could see the outline of his dick perfectly. You gasped, he was so big, so much bigger than anyone you’d been with before. How would that feel inside of you? Would it even fit?
That day, you left feeling elated because of his reaction, a plan starting to form in your mind. You were going to be really, really bad. You spent the rest of the class rubbing your thighs together and trying not to touch yourself. You could still see the outline of his dick if you focused on his groin, and it was making you insane. You almost ran out of the class to jerk off in the bathroom.
On the fifth day, you wore your shortest skirt, the one that barely covered your ass. You walked in and waited until he gave you a once over. Your body was burning by the time he ended his staring. He arched a brow, expecting you to do what you were instructed before. You turned around and repeated the same actions as the day before, showing him your wet pussy as you bent down. He growled again and you smirked.
You handed them the black lacy panties and grinned. “Here you have them, sir.” You pronounced the last word with all your intent, being as flirty as possible as you walked away, sitting in the first row. You never did that before, you were forever a last row girly, but today you had plans. You felt his eyes lingering on your half exposed ass. The walk home was going to be a bit sketchy with that skirt, but it was worth it.
The class started and he looked at you. You smiled innocently as he started to explain about the life circle of some plant. You didn’t care, you were a girl on a mission.
When he turned around and started asking questions, you opened your legs.
The girl sitting next to you wasn’t paying any attention to your actions, but his gaze zeroed on you. You open your legs slightly more, knowing full well your big thighs must cover your pussy most of the time. But if you open them far enough… Yes. You realized the second he saw your pussy because he dropped the pen he was using to write down some stuff on the board.
And then you saw it: the outline of his monster cock noticeable against his dark pants, making you drool and do it again. You parted your legs and bit down on a pen, trying to be as slutty as possible. He coughed to cover what you guessed was a groan. He sat down and ordered everyone to write some stuff for him.
Before you left the class, he grabbed your arm and told you: “Remember we have a meeting after class, I’ll be expecting you in my office.” His tone is harsh and final, you nodded, blushing. Suddenly you feel very embarrassed about your performance in class, but your slutty side is more than happy to comply.
After all your classes, you rushed to his office and knocked softly. He opened the door before you could ask, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. He closed the door behind you and pressed your back against it. He was over you instantly, his big mouth kissing you as his tusks framed your jaw. You kissed him back with equal passion, grabbing his hair and pressing your whole body against his. You moaned against his mouth when he pulled back.
“You were a very naughty girl. And naughty girls need to be punished.” His voice had an edge of danger to it that had you panting. You nodded, eagerly. “Bend down over the desk. Now.” You had to press against him to get to it, but you complied.
“What about the papers?” You asked, trying to move them around but he grunted. He put a hand on the middle of your back and pushed down, plastering your head against the papers and pulling your skirt up at the same time. You felt the cold air against your backside and shivered.
“Such a slutty girl, offering me his panties for a pass. Showing me her wet pussy like a slut. Parting her legs for me in the middle of class.” He punctuated each one of your actions with a caress to your ass. You were panting against the papers, pushing your ass up to get him to touch you more. “You need to be punished for all of that. You were a very, very naughty girl. Such a slut.” And then his big hand made contact with your right ass cheek. You screamed and he stopped. “That won’t do. You need to be quiet.” You looked at him over your shoulder and watched as he took your panties out of his pocket. “Open.” You complied, and he shoved them in your mouth. “Good girl. I’m going to spank your little slutty ass and then fuck your pussy, do you want that?” You nodded eagerly.
He hit your ass ten times, one after the other, not letting you catch your breath before he was hitting you again. You cried out around the panties in your mouth, but you only got them wet with saliva. Tears fell from your eyes and landed on the papers on the desk, making a mess. He didn’t care about it. When he finished spanking you, your pussy was so wet you were sure it was dripping.
“Such a good girl taking the spanking she deserves. Are you on the pill?” His question took you by surprise and when you nodded again he smirked. “Good, I’m going to breed you so deeply you are going to feel me for days.” You groaned at his words. He lowered his pants enough to get his dick out. When you saw it, you whimpered. “Don’t worry, it will fit.” You weren’t so sure about it, but he was already pushing the tip against your gaping hole.
By the time he bottomed out you were breathless. His dick so big you could feel it in the back of your throat. You were spread so wide you felt like you were going to tear in two. But it felt so fucking good. His dick hit every single good point inside of you, rubbing against your G-spot and parts of your pussy you didn’t even know could feel that good. He breathed hard over you as you adapted to his size. He was being so careful with you it was a shock from the way he acted when you entered his office.
After a few minutes you started moving your hips back. He grabbed your hips and pulled back, controlled. You groaned and he chuckled, pushing into you again. The scream you let out wasn’t muffled by the panties. And then the carefulness stopped. He fucked your pussy restlessly, until you were drooling around the panties and over papers on the desk. You could feel the bruises forming on your hips, where his green hands were holding you.
He fucked you like a machine, grabbing you like a toy and fucking your body like you weren’t more than a fleshlight to him. You moaned and groaned around your gag every time he thrusted inside. The pleasure so high it was maddening. His hand went around your body and he started rubbing your clit frantically. You came less than three seconds later and he rapidly followed. His cum was scalding hot in your insides, so deep and so much of it you could feel it slipping out around his dick.
When he finished cumming, he draped himself over you and hugged you close. “You did good, you were perfect.” He took the panties out of your mouth and kissed you softly, moving your limp body until your back was on the desk and he was sitting on his chair in front of you. “Now, take out my cum and eat it.”
You pushed your torso off the table, leaning on your elbows. “Wha- what?” Did he really wanted you to do that? That felt forbidden, like a step too far, but it made you so hot to think about it...
“Finger yourself for me and eat out mixed essence like a good girl for me,” he repeated. As soon as he praised you, you were ready to do whatever he asked you to.
So you complied. “Ye- yes, sir.”
You proceeded to do exactly what he told you, slowly scooping his cum from inside you with your fingers and putting it in your mouth. You moaned at the first taste, feeling naughtier than ever, feeling like the slut he called you earlier. His eyes were focused on your pussy and it felt so good to have all his attention over you that you wanted to scream again, your pussy tingling.
“Come here.” He pulled you off the table and to a kneeling position between his legs. You looked up at him adoringly, your brain, blind with pleasure. “You are going to show me those beautiful breasts of yours and I’m going to come again over you. Then you’ll put the shirt back on and walk to your house like that. Pussy dripping cum, tits marked by me,” he growled the last part. You nodded, already taking your shirt off. “Good girl.”
He jerked his monster cock over your tits, his green fist contrasted with his red tip and darker dick. It was beautiful to see. It took him less than three minutes to be groaning over you as he painted your boobs with his release. He spread it all over your tits, pinching your nipples as he did so. You groaned, your clit pulsing again. You couldn’t understand how much his actions turned you on.
He helped you put back your shirt, and he put you over his lap. You made out for a few more minutes as you melted against him.
“Tomorrow morning I expect you to be early for class.” You arched an eyebrow at him, confused. “If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to form words after such risky order. “Good.” He kissed you again before sending you home.
Anticipation filled your inside as you walked home feeling his cum drying over your tits and leaking out of your bare pussy.
You were going to get an A+ in his class.
Don’t forget you can comission me for something like this if you want.
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#terato#orc#orc professor#orc x human#orc x reader#orc smut#orc romance#orc boyfriend#monster x you#chubby fem reader#chubby reader#chubby reader x monster#exophelia#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monsterfucker#monster kink#monsterfucking nsft#monster fuqqer
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Practical Demonstration
Kinktober Day 3: Exhibitionism Yandere Male Alpha Professor x Gender Neutral Omega Teacher Assistant CW: Noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, abuse of authority, knotting, musk, scent kink, biting, claiming bites, pheromones, overstimulation, a/b/o dynamics, slick, suppressants, manipulation, praise kink, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.6k (Okay guys, hope you enjoy this given how long you have waited for it! PLEASE comment, comments feed me <3)
You were the teacher's assistant for the renowned and well-regarded Professor Reid Sullivan. He had degrees involving anatomy and physiology as well as the psychology of alphas and omegas, and the college he taught at was prestigious.
Professor Sullivan was a bit of a prodigy, already being a highly respected academic despite only being in his early-thirties. His unkempt shaggy hair, dark circles around his eyes, and slight stubble made him appear older. His classes were popular, though he refused to teach large crowds. They reduced his efficacy. At most, he would teach 24 students at a time. This class, though, was limited to 20.
This meant students were always clamoring to sign up before all the slots were filled. Not only were people eager to watch him teach because he was so accomplished and good at educating but also because he was considered rather attractive by many students.
It didn't help that he was also an alpha, and despite his tired nerdy demeanor, he was actually quite fit.
But the main reason his classes were so popular was that he often incorporated live demonstrations into his lessons. In the past, he had omegas demonstrate heat and alphas show off knots while he pointed to and described the anatomy and the purpose for it. He even had an alpha and omega pair demonstrate mating on more than one occasion.
Working under him wasn't bad at all. You were an omega, so you were naturally pretty nervous at first. Working with an alpha superior could sometimes be rather hard. Even in this progressive age, there was still a degree of discrimination and power abuse.
Professor Sullivan was exceedingly kind to you. He even got you coffee and something to eat every morning, even though that would typically be a task more suited to you. He also let you sit in his large cushy chair and was quick to let you use his jacket as you rarely used one, and his classroom tended to be cold.
He was very patient and understanding, guiding you through lessons and helping you learn how to handle a class.
Then, on the day of the final lecture, his true colors were revealed.
He locked the door and then stood in front of it. He put on the display screen a presentation about seducing and breeding an omega.
"Omegas are instinctively attracted to mates that provide them with food. It doesn't have to be major, but a daily coffee and small bit of food will make them naturally more receptive to you..."
The lecture went into greater detail on the subject, also explaining how he microdosed the coffee to make suppressants less effective, but you weren't paying much attention. You were too busy staring at the screen that had pictures of you happily sipping coffee or nibbling on muffins or bagels. It was all so surreal.
"For a shy omega, you can't simply bombard them with your scent. It could scare them away or turn them off completely from your continued advances. Instead, get them acclimated to it..."
The screen now showed how he slightly scented his chair and jacket and gradually scented it more juxtaposed with images of you grading papers while wearing the jacket and sitting in his chair.
You were mortified. Professor Sullivan was a monster! You tried to push past him and get to the door. It almost worked as he was taken aback by your determination to escape, but the extra few seconds that you spent fiddling with the lock were all he needed to wrap his arms around you from behind.
"If your omega acts fearful before mating then the steps we took earlier will help us now."
“G-get off!”
You thrashed and squirmed, but he licked, sucked, and nibbled at your neck until the overstimulation clouded your mind and made your resistance much more feeble. After that, he turned you towards him and, after disrobing completely, pushed your head under his arm so that you got a full dose of his pheromones.
The students gave the professor their undivided attention. One or two omega students envied your place as they stared with wide-eyed fascination at Professor Sullivan's now throbbing cock. The rest were a bit uneasy because you clearly hadn't been willing. They weren't actually too shocked, though, this type of thing wasn't exactly uncommon.
"See how limp the omega is? That's because I canceled any bothersome suppressants, made them accepting of my scent, and subconsciously had them see me as a provider."
The professor had a student roll over his chair to the center of the class before locking the wheels in place. He sat you down tenderly after taking off all your clothing and setting it aside.
"Gather around class, feel free to masturbate as long as you pay attention. This is especially important for you alphas."
Some of the students rubbed their crotches. The alphas encouraged the omegas since it would be helpful later to get them all hot and bothered. After the class formed a circle around the two of you, he continued.
"Now, before an alpha inserts themself into their omega, they must make sure the omega is properly slicked up. Some was produced earlier, but we will want more."
He demonstrated the proper neck stimulation techniques as well as how to slowly stretch out and prepare an omega by inserting gradually more fingers. Then he showed them how to massage an omega’s entrance with their cocks before penetration.
Before he even slipped his cock into you, you were already drooling with a dazed expression.
"Okay class, I said today would be an interactive lesson. The 10 alpha students were each delegated an omega and as part of their final grade, they were tasked with doing everything to their omega classmate that I have done to the TA. Omega students will be granted a participation grade."
The alpha half of the class began pulling the omegas close, stuffing the omegas' faces into their musky crotches or underarms.
The omegas were all bewildered. One gladly accepted their fate, a few were shocked into inaction, and most struggled. Only one managed to escape and get out the door but was chased down and brought back.
These were all students with dreams and goals, most didn't want to be an alpha's property and cumdump. At least not before they did things with their lives.
"I made sure all of your desks were sturdy enough for this, you can prop your omegas up on them if you'd like, putting your clothes on the desk and laying your omega on that will make them more comfortable, like a miniature nest with your scent."
The alphas were all stoked and barely able to hold back.
"If you have your omega in a state like our wonderful TA here is demonstrating then you may slip your cock into them, go slowly though, at least at first."
Professor Sullivan was the first to sink in, causing you to moan softly, soon the entire room was filled with the gasps and moans of a room full of omegas mingling with the grunting and heavy breathing of their alpha lovers.
The air was heavy with pheromones, musk, and the scent of slick.
Your mind wasn't really able to process what was happening around you, though. Your nose was focused on the scent of the one mating you as you instinctively wrapped your arms and legs around him.
"Oh, don't forget to praise your omegas, they may not understand your words right now, but the tone will soothe them."
He kissed you possessively.
"You're such a good mate for me. A perfect partner. So good at helping me teach this lesson. Taking my cock so well~"
He cooed into your ear lovingly as the alpha students praised and complimented their mates. Occasionally, an omega shuddered and squealed in orgasm with their alphas not too far behind.
Sullivan sped the pace up for you, and you didn't last much longer after that. You spasmed wonderfully around his dick as you came hard. Not the only time, though, as he coaxed several more climaxes from your trembling body before he finally came himself and tied you with his big knot.
"Once you've knotted your lover you should bite their neck to mark them as yours. This is essential to making your omega feel safe and loved and will make you secure in the knowledge that everyone knows who they belong to."
The professor bit your neck hard, causing you to moan more even as you flinched in pain.
"You look so beautiful with my mark."
After all the mating had finished and all the knots had deflated, the omegas were all still pretty out of it. Mating and being claimed took a lot out of them and it would probably be an hour or two before they recovered.
"Don't forget your homework! Aftercare is ESSENTIAL!!! Take your omegas to your dorms and make sure they are hydrated, well fed, and praised. If they get cranky at today's events, they probably just need another round or two of breeding."
Which, as it turns out, is exactly what he determined you needed when you wouldn't listen to reason at his home later. He tried to explain that it was all to enhance his teaching. He had been looking for the right omega to fall in love with and help with his lessons for YEARS!
And he finally found you. A TA aspiring to work in his field! You had always wanted a career in academics, and now you had one as his permanent assistant and live demonstration participant!
#yandere x reader#gender neutral reader#yandere alpha x omega reader#omega reader#gender neutral omega#yandere boyfriend#male yandere x gn reader#male yandere#yandere omegaverse#yandere imagines#yandere scenario#My OCs#My OC Professor Sullivan#My OC Reid Sullivan#Yandere professor#yandere college#kinktober 2024
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the honeymoon phase
#you know daaaaadddyss hooooooomeee#its me im daddy im home cherik nation#97 scared me but you CANT GET RID OF ME!!!!#i was going insane drawing this by the way#imagining erik and charles having these soft intimate domestic moments but in motels across the country#domesticity without the domicile#love without safety#WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH#art#fanart#myart#xmen#xmen fanart#xmen first class#xmfc#charles xavier#professor x#erik lehnsherr#magneto#cherik#charles x erik
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after lecture punishment
pairing: professor!rafe x reader warnings: sir kink, spanking, fingering, edging, praising, 18+ mdni
word count: 1.6k request: Hiiii! Can you write something with Professor!Rafe? Like where reader can't focus in class because of how sexy he is/ starts failing so he keeps her after class or something like that lol <3333
main m.list ⟡ rafe cameron m.list ⟡ taglist
“Fuck” you muttered to yourself, staring at your test result, the bright red ink that marked the paper with a ‘D-’.
When you first started the second semester of your junior year, you never thought in a million years that you would score anything lower than a ‘B’. You passed your previous classes with flying colors, but it looks like this class alone would be the one to damage your track record. If you were being honest, it’s not that you didn’t study or try hard enough, it was your lack of attention span. Your attention was focused on something else during lectures, or should you say someone.
That someone is none other than the man teaching your class, Professor Cameron. You couldn’t help it, you’ve always had a thing for older men and it didn’t help that he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. You were so engrossed with him, that you even noticed he wasn’t married, there wasn’t a ring adorning his left ring finger.
You were disrupted from your thoughts when you heard rustling around you, looking to see your classmates packing their belongings into their bags. You shove your test into your binder, standing up as you gather your items. Your feet carried you towards the door, passing Professor Cameron’s desk before you felt a hand brush against your arm as he called out your name, following with “Could you walk with me to my office? I have a few things to discuss with you”. You watched as your classmates dispersed out of the room before turning your head, looking at him, and nodding.
You walked behind him, following him like a lost puppy as he led the way to his office. His name plaque mounted near his office door, glinting from the lighting, catches your eye. He twists the doorknob, opens the door, and steps aside to let you in, his eyes shamelessly glued to how your hips swayed as you walked in. He follows behind you, shutting the door, and gesturing for you to sit at the chair in front of his desk.
“I couldn’t help but look at your transcript and noticed you’re an honor student, is that right?”, Professor Cameron leans back against his desk, standing in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging against the sleeves of his white button-up. “Uh, yes, sir” you mutter, feeling yourself fidget with your skirt. His eyes fixate on your skirt before he clears his throat, “Your grades for the past few semesters are impressive but coming into this class, I have yet to see the honor student in you”.
“You do understand that your grade in this class is on the verge of failing, correct?” he questions, to which you sheepishly nod, “Is there something going on outside of class affecting your learning?”. You nervously bounce your leg up and down, “No, sir. I’ve just been distracted, that’s all”. Professor Cameron’s face turns into a look of amusement, “Distracted? What’s makin’ a smart girl like you distracted?”.
Your face flushes with embarrassment, “It’s nothing”, you mumble, watching as Professor Cameron rolls his sleeves up, his hands moving behind him, settling on his desk, “Nothin’? If it was nothin’, you wouldn’t be on the verge of failing my class. I’ve been watching you during my lectures, you’re a good girl. You wouldn’t lie, would you?”.
“N-no”, you lied, stuttering as he observed your face, taking in your reaction, as if he was trying to detect if you were lying. He lets out a ‘tsk’, standing up and pinching your elbow between his fingers, pulling you out of the chair and into his chest. “Thought a smart girl like you would know better about lying” he shakes his head, “I can’t help you with your grade unless you tell me what’s been distracting you. That, or I’ll have to get it out of you, it’s your choice, sweetheart”.
When you don’t give him an answer, he pushes you against his desk, forcing you to bend over. He grabs your hands, pinning them onto the top of his desk with one hand. His voice is gruff, “Alright, you made your choice, guess I’ll have to get it out of you”. His rough, large hand pushes your skirt up your hips, revealing your thong and your heart is pounding in your chest, anticipating his next move.
His hand runs along the curve of your ass, kneading at the flesh before he pulls his hand back and delivers a sharp smack. You yelp at the contact, squirming to get your wrists out of his hold, and it only makes him bring his hand down again, the sound echoing in his office. His signet ring catches against your skin with each smack he’s given. “Remember, you made your choice. You could be a good girl and tell me what’s been distracting that pretty little head of yours and I’ll stop…or, you don’t and I’ll have to keep punishing you” he warns, reminding you with another smack to your reddening ass.
He releases his grip on your wrists, “Keep them on the desk” his voice was stern, giving you no room for argument. Rafe’s hands cup the globe of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, “Then again…I think you’re enjoying this” he chuckles to himself, his eyes locked on your arousal staining a wet patch onto your thong. He hooks his finger into your thong, tugging it to the side, your glistening cunt on display for him.
A gasp can be heard from you the second you feel his spit running along your folds before he spreads it across your lips, his signet ring-clad finger prodding at your hole. “As long as you tell me, I’m more than willing to help you with anything you need”, his words indicating he wasn’t talking about your grades.
His thick digit pushes into you, your warm, wet walls sucking him in and he can’t help but groan at how tight you feel around his finger. “So fuckin’ tight, gonna have to stretch you out” his words ringing in your ears as he adds another finger, slowly pumping them in and out. You scoot yourself back, trying to stand up but he’s quick to press his palm on your lower back, holding you there as his fingers move faster. You moan at the delicious sensation of the coolness his signet ring creates as it bumps at your clit with each thrust of his fingers.
Your slick coats his fingers, practically soaking them, filling his office with the wet, squelching sounds of his fingers brutally thrusting into you. “Can’t have you gettin’ too loud on me, sweetheart”, his hand reaches around, and clamps down on your mouth, muffling your moans of pleasure when he curls his fingers, hitting at your g-spot. He removes his hand from your mouth, snaking it between your legs to rub at your clit. He can sense you’re close, your inner walls contracting, and gripping his fingers.
You whine out in frustration when you feel his fingers slowing down. Rafe pushes himself forward until his chest is flush against your back, his weight pressing you further onto his desk, “Wanna know what I think?” his warm breath tickles your ear. “I think your pretty little head is distracted and full of filthy thoughts”, his thumb slowly circled at your clit, “Filthy thoughts of me”.
You shake your head, not trusting your voice, “No? So you don’t press your thighs together, trying to relieve the throbbing need for me when you see me? You don’t think about being bent over my desk like you are right now?”. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around his fingers at his words, “S’okay to admit it”, he coos, his fingers picking back their speed while his thumb circling on your clit faster.
“P-Please, sir”, you stutter, your hand moving to hold onto his arm between your legs as you’re on the brink of an orgasm, the same orgasm that he ripped away from you. “Please what?”, he taunts, “Please let me cum”, you plead, tears welling in your eyes. His fingers slowed their movement, edging you once again, “No can do. You’re a smart girl, you know what I want to hear”.
“C’mon, sweetheart, just tell me what’s been distracting you in my class and I’ll let you cum, yeah?” He mutters, already knowing the source of your distraction but wanting to hear you admit it. “Be a good girl and I’ll have you makin’ a mess on my fingers in seconds, I promise” He adds.
“You’ve been distracting me” You hiccup as you admit what he’s been wanting to know. “Yeah? How?” He taunts, his fingers relentlessly pumping in and out of your cunt with ease, curving his fingers, repeatedly thumping at your g-spot, “Been distracting you so much that little head of yours can’t think of anything except the thought of me bending you over, stuffing you full of my cock?”.
“Yes” you lazily nod, your head feeling dizzy and your response is good enough for him, “Go on, cream all over my fingers”. Your cunt flutters around his fingers, legs trembling, almost giving out as you come undone all over his fingers. “Good girl, see, that wasn’t so hard” He praises, slowly moving his fingers, helping you come down from your high. He withdraws his fingers from you, pulling them into his mouth, sucking them clean, “Fuck…been wanting to know what that sweet cunt tasted like”
You shakily stand up, smoothing out your skirt to fix your appearance when Rafe pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him, “From now on, I want you to be under my mentorship, alright?” he mumbles, his thumb brushing at your bottom lip, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at your response, “Yes sir”.
tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @annoyingassleo @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @redhead1180 @shawtycoreee @starkeyisthelastname @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @eddieslut69 @bimbotrashcan @bunnyrafe @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @blckbrrybasket @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @chrislapdog @dark1paradise @nemesyaaa @rafescurtainbangz @zyafics @ijustwanttoreadlols
#𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝓈 ༉‧₊˚.#professor!rafe#professor!rafe cameron#professor!rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fic#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x you#obx smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron prompt#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#obx x reader#outer banks#rafe outerbanks#rafe cameron outerbanks#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader
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SOME MOREEE YANDERE PINES TWINS THOUGHTS
stan pines thoughts and professor ford pines??? HOLD ON LET ME COOK
18+!!!!
tw // yandere themes, gaslighting, manipulation, power imbalance, pervy uncle lowkey, also lowkey bimboification, noncon (not explicit)
professor ford pines!!!!!!!! known to be the eccentric professor who goes on tangents about trans-dimensional physics and other science junk, but also superrr lenient grader like no possible way anyone could fail his class. you’re def teacher’s pet type and he’s definitely aiming to make you a TA. always getting you involved in weird experiments, but you’re always down cuz ur there to learn! ford invites you to his house, you guys hang out outside of class and research, you’ve met his brother!! like u knew it was getting weird, but at the same time…. you need a good rec letter. so one day you guys are in his office at his home, grading papers…
“(y/n).” ford calls your name, sternly. the lights were dim and quiet classical music played in the office. you hum and turn to him. before you know it, his chapped lips press against yours. you push him away, scared and surprised.
“professor, what the hell are you doing?” you try back away, but ford grabs your hand.
“i think you are one of the most brilliant minds i know and i want to be with you, (y/n).” ford stands, pulling you into a hug. you push back, stumbling away from him.
“no, i-i never thought that! i thought we were just friends!”
“but, i invited you to my home.” ford’s face saddens, “you met my family…”
“i never… i never realized…” you felt embarrassed for the old professor. you take a step back. you can’t see his face, but you watch his fists clench.
“i suppose that means you’re okay with losing your job, as well as any opportunities in this field.” his voice was low, words drenched in anger.
“no…. no, no, no, professor you can’t do this to me.” your heart feels like it was being ripped out of your chest.
“no, i can’t, but who will you tell? who will believe you? i am a respected scientist in our field, (y/n). think once more on your decision.” ford looks at you, a smug smirk laying on his face. you don’t respond, knowing that you had no other choice. you step back to him and he pulls you into a soft, loving kiss. his 5 o’clock shadow scratches your face. “now, please (y/n), call me ford.”
stan pines who had known your dad when he lived in texas and saw him again in gravity falls. stan pines who gets invited over to meet his friend’s family for dinner and sees you. a cute, little thing in their early 20s. stan’s instantlyyy enamored. you’re so cute and respectful, explaining how you’re living at home while you work and save money for a house, blushing when stan compliments you, serving him food first. you were acting like a perfect homemaker and stan was instantly obsessed. your dad’s gonna tell stan before he leaves that you’re all moving somewhere cheaper:
“yeah, pines, we’re moving some time soon. you know how it is with retirement and the market going down.” your dad sighs, wearily. stan nods, trying to listen to your voice in the house. “can’t move till (y/n) finds a job though. its gonna be tough on them especially with how hard it is to find jobs these days.” stan perks up at his words.
“y’know, (y/n) don’t have to quit…” your dad looks at the older man in confusion. “my grandkids have gone back to california, shermie’s grandkids technically, so my attic is open for them to stay in. they can stay at their job and you guys can move.” stan offers, fighting a giddy smile.
your dad clasps stan’s hands, “stan pines, you are the kindest man i know.”
stan for sure acts like a feeble old man around you to get you to take care of him. like cooking dinner, doing laundry, and more. he conditions you into acting like his stay at home partner. he starts making advances, subtle at first, to see what you would tolerate. soon he’s dictating what you wear and bending you over on the kitchen counter to make sure you stay full :) (dont get me started on somnophilia cuz i have thoughts on those but idk if u guys are ready for the things im gonna say)
here are those thoughts i was talking abt… :))))
#these old fucks are consuming my every waking thought#yandere#x reader#yandere x reader#gender neutral reader#tw gaslighting#manipulation#stanford pines smut#stanley pines x reader#stanford pines x reader#stan pines x reader#stan pines smut#stanford pines#yandere stanley pines#stanley pines#ford pines x reader#ford pines#yandere imagines#yandere ford pines#tw noncon#gravity falls#yandere gravity falls#professor x student#dads best friend#bimboification#lowkey#yandere thoughts
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Punished*
Summary: The one where you've been a brat to your dominant, Harry, and he's finally had enough.
Word Count: 5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, degradation, spanking, voyerism, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap (6 years but not explicitly mentioned), exhibitionsim if you squint
Right about now, somewhere across town, Professor Styles is pulling your panties out of his pocket.
If you’re correct, he’ll be standing in the lecture hall, giving his opening remarks for his Applied Mathematics class, and reaching for his favorite pen. He’ll dip into his pocket, feel the silky fabric against his fingertips, and he’ll know.
And you will be royally and magnificently fucked.
Because around the time he realizes just what it is that you’ve snuck into his jacket, he’ll also realize that it means you are somewhere across town not wearing any underwear at all.
And he’ll be fucking furious.
But that’s why you did it. It’s what he deserved. After spending all evening torturing you, teasing you, edging you, and taunting you…he left you. Gave you exactly 0 orgasms by the time you went to bed, claiming you didn’t deserve any after being such a brat all day.
In your defense, you weren’t a brat. No, you didn’t exactly do the few things he’d asked of you. And no, you didn’t communicate with him that you were struggling with your essay and feeling stressed and overwhelmed. But you figured an orgasm would help fix a lot of that. Instead, he left you with none.
You felt rather proud of yourself as you subtly and effortlessly dropped your panties into the pocket while you kissed him goodbye. Knowing he’d be pissed and that he’d punish you for it. You secretly hoped he’d pull them out in front of the whole class. Or in front of the other faculty.
Either way, you knew the text was coming. And when your phone pings as you’re leaving your own class, you can’t help but smile.
You’re in big fucking trouble, little one.
You bite your lip with glee as you head across campus. You don’t answer his message and you certainly don’t apologize. After all, the day is far from through.
Around four, you return to his apartment. His office hours aren’t over until five and then he has a faculty meeting which will keep him out until seven. It’s hard some days to be away from him for so long. You miss him. It’s even worse that he doesn’t work at the same university you attend, so there’s not even the slightest chance that you’ll catch a glimpse of him during the day.
It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. And maybe that’s why you like to challenge him. Because at least if he’s upset and punishing you, he’s paying attention. You don’t want to settle into a routine where he comes home, gives you a quick fuck and a kiss, and falls asleep.
Or even worse…ends the agreement altogether.
You want to know you’re interesting enough to keep around. That you make this relationship worth it for him. He wants to be dominant. And you want to be his submissive. And even if that means getting spanked and edged from time to time…that’s okay.
So, once you get back to his place, you make a plan. He isn’t too upset yet. He needs a push. A gentle nudge.
And you know exactly how to nudge him.
You find his portable security camera, the one he only sets up when he’s out of town and away from the apartment. You bring it into the bedroom and then you turn it on. You know it’ll send him a notification that it’s active and that it’s sensed movement. From there, he’ll be able to open the app on his phone and see everything the camera does.
Which will be you.
On the bed.
Naked.
And touching yourself.
Breaking his favorite rule.
He won’t be able to do anything about it, either. Between office hours and faculty meetings, he won’t have time to send you a chastising text. He won’t have time to warn you or threaten you.
But he will be able to watch. You know he will. Even if he has to pull it up behind a notebook, his eyes will be glued to the screen and the thought alone makes you giddy.
You set the camera on the dresser, giving him the perfect view of where you plan to sit against the headboard. You strip off your shirt and skirt, but there’s no need to discard of your underwear—he already knows where it is.
You crawl onto the mattress, and you settle yourself into the collection of pillows. You find your favorite dildo and you spread your legs and you look directly into the lens.
Then, you smile.
You start slow, first by rubbing your clit, and settling into the sensation. Praying that Harry is somewhere watching right now. Then you start to tease yourself. One finger…then two. Slowly thrusting them into your cunt until you can add a third. The sounds are wet and delicious, and you moan his name even though he can’t hear you.
When you finally work yourself up to the dildo, you’re shaking. It doesn’t take long for you to cum—twice. Making a mess on his bed and on your thighs that you don’t exactly plan to clean up just yet. And after a quick break…you go back for round three before finally tapping out.
And once you’re through and feeling rather victorious, you wait.
However, waiting proves rather difficult once eight o’clock hits and he’s still not home. Then eight becomes nine and you don’t even have so much as a text.
And you realize not much later that he’s turned the tables.
Not only does he have the upper hand, but he’s using that hand to squeeze you out. To make you sit and sweat and bite the ends of your fingernails. He wants you to realize that he’s won. Even after everything you did today, he’s still won and he’s going to continue winning and you are undoubtedly fucked.
So, when the door finally opens about fifteen minutes later, your heart drops to your ass.
He strides in rather calmly. He tosses his keys into the bowl by the hallway. He slips off his large coat. He loosens his tie. And then he heads to the bar for a bottle of scotch.
He pours himself a drink and he doesn’t look at you as you sit on the sofa and wait anxiously for his reaction. He doesn’t offer you a hello. He doesn’t glare or even smirk. He keeps his back to you, and he takes two very deliberate sips.
Finally…he turns around.
He leans against the counter and begins to roll his sleeves up to his arms. Then, he crosses them over his chest, and in a gentle murmur says, “Hi.”
Desperate to please and to move the scene along, you scoot to the edge of the couch and place your hands in your lap. “Hi, Sir.”
He hums. Soft. Amused. “Sir, hm?”
You nod. “Yes. You are Sir, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he echoes. “But you certainly didn’t treat me like one today, did you?”
You resist the urge to smile. “What do you mean, Sir?”
He pushes off the bar and takes one step closer. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls your panties free, dangling them from his finger. “Why were these left in my coat today, little one?”
“Oh…were they?” You bat your lashes. “Oops. I guess I forgot where I put them.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He takes another step. “And does that mean you were in class all day without any?”
You shyly glance toward your lap. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“…yes, Sir.”
“I see.” He puts them back in his pocket. “So, like a little fucking whore, you paraded around campus in nothing but a short skirt with no goddamn panties just to piss me off?"
"...yes, Sir."
"Did you touch yourself during class?"
You blink up at him. "I thought about it. But I waited until I was in my car during lunch."
His expression grows harder. "So you touched yourself twice today. Without asking my permission for either one."
"That's right, Sir."
"And you wanted me to find your panties while I was teaching, then, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“To mock me.”
“No, Sir.”
“No?”
You shift and offer him your best pout. “I only wanted your attention, Daddy.”
“You have it.” He nods his chin at you. “But that’s not all you wanted, is it?”
You clear your throat. “What do you mean, Professor?”
He reaches now into his other pocket, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons before flipping the screen toward you.
And there you are. On the bed. Writhing, moaning. Coming.
Harry looks at you. “You went through quite a bit of trouble to make sure I’d see this, didn’t you?”
You bite your lip.
“In fact, not only did you want me to see you disobeying my rule, you wanted to rub it in my face. Wanted me to get caught watching you in front of all my colleagues and students.” He clicks the phone off. “Isn’t that right?”
He wants your honesty and even though you’re tempted not to give it to him…you need to see him upset.
You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. “That’s right, Sir.”
He leans back and studies you. He’s fighting a smirk now, but that mischievous green gives everything away. “Because you wanted my attention.”
“Yes.”
“And this is how you thought you’d get it.”
“Yes.”
“And how is that working for you so far, little one?”
“Pretty well, actually. You’re here, and you’re pissed, so…”
He leans closer. So suddenly, in fact, that it makes a breath catch in your throat and your eyes pop open.
He rests his hands on his knees and stares right through you. “Fine,” he agrees in an almost devious purr. “If you want me to punish you, darling, I will. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to bend you over my knee right now and feel your skin grow hot from my hand.”
You swallow.
“And then, once you’re fucking soaking my trousers, I’ll sit you down and return your generous favor.” He smiles. “And you…will thank me for every single spank and every single orgasm. The only words I will hear out of this mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir,’ ‘No, Sir,’ and ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Is that understood?”
You nod sheepishly. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He straightens up. “You know what to say if you want to stop, yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me.”
“Yellow or red.”
“Good. And what’s our safe word if you’d like to pause the dominant, submissive relationship and just be us?”
“Sunflower.”
“Good girl.” He reaches for your chin, pinching your cheeks tight between his fingers before forcing your head up. “What’s your color right now?”
“Green, Sir.”
“And you understand that my punishment is not a reward for this behavior?” He grips you a touch harder. “Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I approve of the means in which you got it?”
Your lashes flutter as you nod in his hold. “I understand…Sir.”
“But you’re not the least bit sorry…are you?”
Slowly, you shake your head.
He smiles to himself before dipping down once again until his lips are only inches from yours. “I plan to change that.”
Your stomach flips.
With that, he releases you, and nods toward the bedroom. “Go. Wait on the bed. I’ll be in when I feel like it.”
You don’t waste another second. You run toward the bed and you sit on the edge and you wait like a good girl. You obey him because you know how badly you want what comes next.
He takes his time. He has another drink. Slips off his shoes. Maybe even answers a few texts. Then, after he’s finished teasing you, he strolls into the bedroom.
He says nothing as he takes a seat beside you on the mattress. He hardly even looks at you. His expression is stoic—unrelenting. The way it always is when he’s slipping further into the punishing dominant role.
“Come,” he says, and pats his thigh.
You do. You crawl over his lap and lay your stomach over his knees, bare ass eager and waiting.
He squeezes your hip. “Are you ready, little one?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He smooths his palm over the curve of your left cheek before there’s a sharp smack to the right.
You jolt, sucking in a quiet gasp. “Thank you, Sir.”
You hear him hum appreciatively. He does it again to the other side this time. Hard. Firm.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Again and again. Sometimes on the same side, sometimes in a specific pattern. He goes until you’re nearly numb and tears are pooling in your eyes. The same way arousal is pooling between your legs. Exactly the way he wanted.
Because it’s not the pain that does it for you. It’s his pain. It’s the knowledge that he trusts you enough to do this. And you trust him enough to let him.
He wants to take the time to punish you and make you a better submissive. And even though you annoy him and challenge him, he wants to keep you around. He isn’t going to lose interest.
But most importantly, he enjoys it just as much as you do.
By the fifteenth spank—with a few moments of rest in-between—you’re raw and undoubtedly very warm. Despite his slight anger, he makes sure to caress your skin and show it a bit of care along with the abuse. He listens closely for your safe word, and he only continues once you’ve thanked him. A sign that you’re coherent and still present in the scene.
After a couple more, he stops. “Tell me again why I’m doing this. Let me know that you understand.”
Through a few sniffles, you manage to answer, “Because…I disobeyed your rule.”
“And?”
“…and I disobeyed you.”
“And?”
“I went to class without any panties.”
“Mm.” He seems to huff to himself. “What else?”
“I could have embarrassed you in front of your students and colleagues.”
“And?”
“…and I’m not sorry about any of it.” You glance over your shoulder. “I’m a bad submissive.”
“You are,” he agrees. “Quite possibly the worst. My sweet angel became my little devil overnight all because she’s an attention whore who needs Daddy to constantly put her in her place.”
He reaches for your jaw again and forces your attention on him.
“Is that what you are, darling? A greedy little slut who throws a tantrum anytime her dominant stays out late? You have to disrupt my life, my work, and my students because you’re so cock-dumb and desperate?”
Your heart is racing. The degrading comments make your insides wrench in the best way as you squeeze your thighs together. “…yes, Sir.”
“I provide for you,” he continues, pinching your cheeks with a rather unrelenting grip. “I care for you. I work hard to make money just so I can spend it on you. And what do I get in return? A disobedient little fuck-toy that can’t follow a single goddamn rule. All because she couldn’t tell me she missed me.”
He pulls you up until you’re sitting and your ass begins to throb in pain as you’re forced over the rough fabric of his trousers.
“Tell me you missed me,” he demands sharply. “Be a good girl for once and tell me what you really need.”
“You,” you breathe. “I need you, Professor. I missed you. I wanted you around.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner, huh?” He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck. “Why did you play games with me?”
You pout. “Because I like playing with you.”
He scoffs. “You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat and you need to be broken.”
With that, you’re nearly shoved off his lap as he moves to one of the dressers to search for something.
Handcuffs.
You already know what comes next and even though you know you won’t like it…you can’t help but feel just a little excited.
“Move to the headboard,” he says. “Hands on the bars.”
You scoot into position, wrists firm against the poles as he tightens the cuffs and makes sure they’re nice and snug.
In this position, he can do anything he wants. He can fuck you, he can taste you, he can have both holes at once. And you can’t do anything but let him.
Once you’re where he wants you, he gets off of the bed, and begins to unbutton his fancy shirt.
You enjoy the show. In fact, you practically drool as you watch those long, nimble fingers pop each button on the way down. The way the fabric slides against his tan, tattooed skin before dropping down his arms and onto the floor. The way he tugs on his belt before undoing his pants and letting those go as well.
And there he is. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, that beautiful, gorgeous body on display. He puts in quite a bit of time to keep up his appearance and stamina. If he’s not teaching and he’s not with you, he’s at the gym. He runs, he does yoga, he plays basketball. He’s a very fit man and you honestly can’t believe how lucky you are to reap the rewards of his hard work.
Your lips part, ready to call for him. Your eyes feel heavy with lust and your legs are practically trembling. You part them in anticipation as he drops his briefs and puts a firm hand around his cock.
He strokes himself a few times before he grabs his phone. You stare like you’re in heat and maybe you are because fuck, the way his tip is so red and swollen and absolutely delicious. And his hand, his glorious hand. Nothing has ever looked so good. The way he squeezes and pumps. The way his thighs flex as he walks back toward the lounge chair in the corner of the room to sit. The way the tattoos move with every thrust.
You blink. “Wait…what are you doing?”
His eyes snap to yours. “Did I say you could speak?”
“…no, but—”
“Excuse me?”
You exhale sharply. “No, Sir.”
“No.” He leans back, one hand still around his cock while the other rotates his phone until he can watch the screen clearly. “What I am doing is returning your favor.”
Your brows furrow.
“See…you wanted to touch yourself. Without me,” he explains almost smugly. “You wanted to torture me. When I couldn’t do anything about it. When I couldn’t touch you or feel you or taste you. So, I’m following your lead. I’m letting you watch. I’m letting you see everything that you’re missing.”
And you realize then. You understand. You understand and you fucking hate it because this is so much worse than what you were imagining.
“Harry…Harry, wait—”
He clicks his tongue and shoots you a startling look of waning. “What did I say?”
You whimper. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I was just…I missed you and I—”
“I don’t care,” he says before he hits a button on his phone and the speakers come alive with the sound of your voice. “You get to watch me while I get to watch you. And it’s a shame. Because now I have to waste it on myself instead of filling that sweet pussy the way you love.”
You whine again but it’s lost beneath the sounds of your pants coming from his phone. He doesn’t look at the real you. He looks at the disobedient version on the screen. The one with spread legs and a rather pornographic moan that almost embarrasses you.
He fists himself in the kind of way that makes every glorious muscle in his arm flex and tighten. It’s cruel how he makes you wait here, calling his name. Unable to do for him what he’s doing for himself.
“Look at you,” he exhales, lashes fluttering as he stares at your performance. “Stretching your little cunt with your fingers. Bet it felt good, didn’t it?”
“Yes…yes, Sir—”
“Did you think of me, little devil? Did you think of my fingers when you were fucking your little pussy. Did you pretend they were mine?”
You nod so fast, your head aches. “Yes, Sir.”
“I bet.” He squeezes the tip and hisses before moving back down. His chest is heaving, skin practically glowing beneath the lamp beside him. He’s beautiful like this. Jaw clenched and thighs spread. “I imagined your voice when I was in my meeting, watching. Didn’t have the sound on…but I knew. I know your sounds. Play them in my head on a loop.”
You yank on the cuffs and you don’t care that they’re cutting into your wrists. What he’s doing hurts so much more.
“And that fucking dildo,” he continues. He groans softly and his hips lift. “Yet another toy you aren’t meant to use without me. But there you are. Taking it so well. All the way, hm? Like it’s nothing.”
You need him to look at you. He’s so close and you just…you need him to put his eyes on your body and see the way you’re dying without him. It’s warm in his light and you think you might disappear if he doesn’t look at you just once before he finishes.
“It’s such a shame,” he murmurs. “Such a shame that you’d rather have silicone than my cock.”
You sniffle. “Daddy, no—”
“And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. For the next week, if I decide you get to cum, I’ll use the toy. And then I’ll let you watch as I finish myself off alone.” Finally, he looks up, and you want to wilt. “Or maybe I’ll use a toy, too. Maybe the fleshlight we got.”
Tears dance down your cheeks. You wish he was inside of you right now. Fucking you, stretching you. Pressing down on the bulge in your belly so you can really feel him. His hand is nothing compared to your pussy and you both know it.
“Professor, please—”
“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “No. You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to beg or feel sorry. You asked for this. You wanted to hurt me. To be punished and be noticed. So, I’m noticing you, darling. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve been far too lenient with you.”
You squeeze your thighs in an attempt for relief, but it does nothing and he knows it.
“See, I thought you were good.” He rests his head back against the chair, overcome with pleasure, and you know he’s trying hard to hold out. “I thought…that when I asked you to do something, you did it. That if you needed me…if you needed to cum…you talked to me. You followed our rule and you obeyed. But clearly I don’t punish you enough if you think slipping your panties into my coat is a fun little game.”
“Sir…Sir, I don’t, I’m—”
“Or maybe they’re just the wrong sort of punishments,” he barrels on. “What you really wanted was to be spanked and tied up. Maybe even wanted me to use my belt, hm? Be rough with you? Make you cry? And I gave it to you. Because I’m a good dominant. But I need to be a better one. And a better dominant makes sure his submissive learns her lessons.”
You try to sit up. Catch his eye again. Plead with him. Because you don’t like where this is going.
“Starting now, your punishment will hurt. It will teach. If you so much as roll your eyes when I speak to you, I’ll have you sleeping in the guest room until you can fix your attitude.” He glances over his phone screen and hums when he sees you finish. “And if you try to pull another stunt like you did today, you won’t get to cum at all, and I might even send you back to your apartment.”
The tears feel hot as they drip down your chin. “Daddy…”
“Tell me you understand,” he demands of you now. “Tell me that you hear my rules. That you plan to obey them and respect them the way you need to obey and respect me.”
You’re tempted to throw a tantrum. To thrash and cry and beg, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So, you make a quick motion with your head, and whimper, “Yes, Sir.”
And your submissive reply is what tips him over the edge. He cums—hard—and with a rather lewd moan before spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs.
You hate it. He was right, it is wasted. Staining his skin instead of yours. To be washed off and disposed of instead of slipping down your throat or filling your cunt. A cruel, sadistic punishment that he seems to enjoy.
And he still doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t acknowledge your pain. Pretends you’re not even in the room. Instead, he grabs a washcloth from one of the drawers and cleans himself up before coming over to you. So there’s no chance you’ll get even a single drop.
He sits on the bed beside you and looks down. He pinches your chin—softer this time—and makes your tear-filled eyes look at him.
“I expect you to follow these rules, little one,” he repeats gently. “And I expect you to understand why you’re being punished. I don’t do it to hurt you. In fact, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Having to send you away or use a toy instead of giving you my cock? That’s not what I want. But it’s what you deserve. And I have to be a good dominant and make sure you learn your lesson.”
You try to nuzzle yourself closer to his hand and he smiles. “I do understand, Daddy, and I’m sorry. Just…just missed you.”
His expression softens now and he seems gutted. “So you said. And I’d like to know what I’ve been doing to make you feel so neglected so that it doesn’t happen again.”
You shake your head quickly. “Nothing, Sir. Just…your hours have been later. And sometimes I have a lot to study. And by the time we’re both finally home, we have to sleep. And then I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
He coos and reaches down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Oh, darling. I know life is a bit hectic right now. And I haven’t called to check-in as much as I should, have I?”
You sniffle. “You have. But a check-in doesn’t replace the real thing.”
“I know.” He leaves a kiss to your cheek now. “I’m so sorry, my love. With the end of the semester, I’ve got so much grading to do, and so many final projects to oversee. There’s a lot of discussion happening in our department, and I’ve been pulled in a lot of different directions. I’ve been absent and neglecting one of my favorite priorities. And for that, I’m so sorry. And I will try to do better. Can you forgive me?”
You smile and nod as quickly as you can. “Always, Daddy.”
He chuckles. “My good girl. But you know that just because I haven’t been as present doesn’t give you a right to act out, yes?”
“…yes, Sir.”
“And I expect you to talk to me in the future if you’re feeling like this?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”
You nod again. “Can you please hold me?”
His smile feels like a breath of spring. “Of course.”
He undoes the cuffs and takes careful hold of your wrists. He grabs some calming salve from the nightstand beside him and applies it to the slight marks on your skin, just to make sure you’ll be all right and won’t feel any more pain. And once it’s on, he pulls the covers back, and tucks you both in.
You feel good in his arms, your cheek against his heart. There’s still a very prominent ache between your thighs but you know better than to ask him to relieve it. This is part of your lesson. He’ll make it up to you later—even if he only uses a toy to do so. But it won’t even matter because it’s him. And you’ll take anything he gives you.
The slight scruff on his face scratches your forehead as he rubs it against you to make you squeal. And you feel so happy now that he’s your Harry again. The man you feel safest with.
“Harry?” you whisper after the room has gone quiet.
“Hm?”
“I really am sorry about the panties. I didn’t want you to get caught.”
He laughs softly and kisses your temple. “I think if anything, it would have given me points.”
You grin. “The girls would have been so jealous.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“I do. You’re hot, Professor. I don’t have to be your student to know all of your students want to fuck you.”
He glances down with a smirk. “All of them, hm?”
“Every single one. Have you seen yourself? Have you seen what you wear? And your hair and that beard and those eyes—”
“Okay,” he murmurs, and cups your cheek. “You’re very sweet, darling. And maybe you should give me your panties more often so I can remind everyone who I belong to.”
Your heart skips. The word belong means something more to the two of you than it might to anyone else. As his submissive, you do belong to him.
But he belongs to you, too. You belong to each other. This is a partnership—a relationship, no matter the dynamic. And the idea of him flaunting your claim on him makes you giddy.
“Daddy?” you whimper.
“Yes, little one?”
“Can we please change the subject before this gets any worse for me?”
His brows furrow. “Worse?”
You shift your legs between his and his eyes widen when he feels the smearing of arousal against his thigh.
“Ah,” he breathes before smiling. “M’sorry, honey. Know it must really ache, hm?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And after all this edging, it’d probably feel so good to cum, wouldn’t it?”
Another nod. “Yes, Professor.”
“Mmm.” He kisses you. “Too bad. Maybe next time, yeah?”
You groan but you do kiss him back. Because you know that next time…
He’ll make it worth it.
Hehe this was fun and I am so down to explore them more later if we ever want!!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞
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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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Of course, my love.
Young!Charles Xavier x reader
Summary: Charles wants to find out something the reader isn't ready to say. Let's just say they both react differently.
Masterlist
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Y/N leaned against the doorframe of Charles' office.
Her hair was awry and her clothes slightly askew. But she didn't care.
She couldn't sleep without him at her side. And she was determined to get him there.
Charles glanced up from his papers and smiled gently at her. His voice was like honey, "Sweetheart, everything alright?"
She nodded and rubbed her eyes gently, "Can't sleep without you, Charles."
He tilted his head in empathy and cooed at the tired woman, "Poor thing. I'll be there soon, my love. I promise you."
She let out a slight pout and sighed when Charles looked back down at his work, "You said that an hour ago. Please."
Please. That did something to him.
His eyes found hers again, and his empathy was gone. His stony face slowly tilted upwards to see her fully. "Please?" He questioned her words.
She blushed slightly and nodded, "Please."
He stood and dropped the pen in his hand on the desk, "Whatever my darling wishes, she receives."
She smiled groggily at him and let him lead her by the hand to the bedroom.
He moved her to sit on the bed as he quickly changed into sleeping clothes. His fingers danced with the buttons of his shirt before he looked at her with a smirk, "Do I dare change, or just leave it all off?"
Her face dropped at his words.
Oh shit. He said the wrong thing.
She shuffled awkwardly, "Um. I… I didn't think you wanted to…. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on, I just..."
He gave a gracious smile and quickly walked to her and sat at her side, "What's in the beautiful mind, my dear?"
She looked away from him in contemplation.
It was worrying him, "Y/N?"
She shook her head and let out a light sniffle.
He ran a hand through her hair, "You have to tell me."
Y/N looked up at him with tears in her eyes and a voice that was barely heard, "I'm scared to."
"Perhaps," he tried to reason, "you won't have to tell me at all?" He gently brushed two fingers against his temple to insinuate what he wanted.
Let me know you inside and out, He said in her mind.
She nodded and closed her eyes, afraid to see his reaction.
He pressed the fingers against his temple lightly and began to enter her mind.
He didn't get to enter there often, but when he did, he was always in awe.
Just. Like. Now.
He pulled away as if his fingers had burned him. His eyebrows furrowed and his voice was a harsh whisper in surprise, "You… You're pregnant?"
She nodded and she shut her eyes tighter.
He quickly wrapped his arms around her now shaking frame as he let out a laugh. "You're pregnant, my love."
It seemed his words finally clicked in her head what she needed it to, because she wrapped her arms around him as well and cried into his shoulder.
He was quick with his words as his hand gently ran through her hair, "Shhh. It's alright. It's alright, love. I promise you."
Her hands clung to his shirt tightly as she pulled away. It hurt his heart to see her tear stained face. "You're not mad at me?"
His eyes widened as he wiped the tears from her face, "Mad? Where did you get an idea like that? I'm overjoyed!"
She sniffled and searched his eyes carefully, as if waiting for him to reveal his anger. But it never came.
Finally, her voice came out soft, "Let me read your mind."
He immediately nodded and locked his eyes with hers again. It was an intimate act, letting someone read the mindreader's mind. But he would do anything for her.
His two fingers pressed gently onto her temple, giving her the ability to run through his mind.
Her eyes closed as she focused on his thoughts, but his were wide open. He studied her. How precious she was.
He could feel her in his mind. As if she was a guest in a house with no one home. She gently picked up the small things on the shelf to admire, then set them back down with such gentleness. Not in worries of getting caught doing so, just worries of messing up a perfect home.
She quickly opened her eyes with a surprised expression in her big eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, "Did you find something?" His fingers on his other hand traced her cheek lightly.
Her voice was soft agin, "You truly are happy?"
He nodded, "I am, love. I care for you more than I've ever cared for anything. And I will continue to love you and this child until the last breath leaves my lungs. I'll swear it to you if I must."
One last tear fell from her cheek, "I love you, Charles."
He smiled and placed a gently kiss to her lips, "I love you so, so much."
He kissed her again.
Both of his hands caressed her face gently but firm.
He pulled away and his lips brushed again hers, "More than anyone else on the entire damn planet."
She smiled into the next kiss and softly said, "Then just leave this all off." She tugged on his half-unbuttoned shirt.
He smiled back and kissed her again, "Of course, my love."
...................................................................
#charles xavier#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier imagine#charles xavier fanfiction#charles xavier x you#charles xavier x y/n#professor x#professor x x reader#xmen fanfiction#xmen fandom
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Hello!! How are you? I hope you are well!! So, I have a slight suggestion, where the reader has something similar with chaos magic, especially the psychic part, and she has difficulties living normally, Because this causes her pain and young!charles tries to help her but she always pushes him away, you can finish however you want!!
When Chaos Comes Calling
The world around you was always a little too loud. Not in the traditional sense—but in a way that gnawed at the edges of your mind. Chaos magic, that's what they called it, though sometimes it felt more like a curse. The psychic part of it was the worst—thoughts, emotions, and the raw energy of people buzzed constantly, leaving you teetering on the brink of pain.
It wasn't something you could turn off. Not something you could just "get used to." Each day felt like an endless balancing act between keeping the chaos at bay and simply surviving. You didn't remember what it was like to live normally anymore.
That’s where Charles came in. Young, bright-eyed Charles Xavier. He always seemed to be there, offering help, a gentle hand, and his telepathic abilities, hoping to soothe your mind. But you refused. Every time.
He didn’t understand. No one did.
You hated pushing him away—he was the only person who seemed to care enough to try—but every time he got close, it felt like the chaos inside you swelled, threatening to drown you both. And you couldn’t live with that. So, you shut him out. Over and over again.
“(Y/N),” Charles would say gently, almost pleading. “Let me in. I can help. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
But you always shook your head. “I can’t. I’ll hurt you, too.”
He never pushed, but you could see the frustration and sadness in his eyes each time you refused him.
And then, one night, everything fell apart.
The pressure had been building for days—voices, emotions, psychic noise scraping against your skull. You tried to hold it back, tried to stay in control, but it was too much. It felt like your mind was splitting apart, like the chaos was finally winning.
You collapsed in your small apartment, hands clutching your head, gasping for breath as pain and psychic energy coursed through you. You felt like you were unraveling, the edges of your vision blurring as you tried to ground yourself. But there was nothing solid to hold on to.
And that’s when Charles came.
He didn’t knock this time, didn’t wait for you to push him away. He was inside your apartment in seconds, his face filled with concern.
"(Y/N)," he whispered, his voice soft yet urgent, “I can feel it—you're hurting."
You could barely open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head weakly as you gasped, “Charles… you… can’t. Too much…”
But Charles wouldn’t be turned away this time. “I won’t let you push me away, not now. I’m not leaving you like this.”
You wanted to argue, to tell him to stay out of your mind, but it hurt too much to speak. You were trembling, overwhelmed by the psychic storm inside you, and all you could do was hope that Charles wouldn’t get caught in it.
“I’m coming in, just for a moment,” Charles said gently, his fingers brushing against your temple as he closed his eyes. “Let me share the burden, just for a little while.”
You felt him reach into your mind, his presence so calm and controlled, so different from the chaos that had become your constant companion. For a brief moment, you panicked, terrified that he would get lost in the storm—but then something miraculous happened.
The noise started to quiet.
You could still feel the chaos, still feel the energy inside you, but it wasn’t crushing you anymore. Charles wasn’t trying to take it away, wasn’t trying to fix it—he was simply sharing it, easing the burden just enough for you to breathe again.
You sobbed softly, the pain still lingering but no longer unbearable. “I… I can’t control it… I can’t live like this.”
Charles knelt beside you, his hand still resting on your temple. “You don’t have to control it alone. Let me help you. I’ve studied this… I know how to guide you.”
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his. There was no pity in his gaze, no fear—only compassion and an unwavering determination to help you.
“I’ve been where you are,” he said softly. “I know what it feels like to be afraid of your own mind. But we can do this together.”
For the first time, you didn’t push him away.
You let Charles stay with you, sharing the chaos, guiding you through the storm. He never left your side, and slowly—day by day—the pain became manageable. You still struggled, still had moments where the chaos threatened to overwhelm you, but with Charles’s help, you started to believe that you could live a life beyond the madness.
And more importantly, you realized that you didn’t have to do it alone
#charles xavier imagine#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier oneshot#professor x imagine#marvel imagine#x men imagine#x men 97#wolverine imagine#deadpool imagine
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Good evening freaks
#i have been absorbing all of the information and calculating the data#reaching my final result... i think they're neat#as well as all the Xmen. obviously#just give me a min#x men#xmen prequels#x men movies#xmen fanart#charles xavier#charles x erik#erik lehnsherr#cherik#professor x#magneto#digital art#xmen first class#for a moment I'll imagine them still in time#xmen
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Expressing His Love - Logan Howlett: the one with how he shows his love for you
─➭ pairing: Logan Howlett x wife!reader
─➭ content warning: fluff, logan in love
─➭ take a walk in the greenhouse (master list)
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How does Logan Howlett express his love?
He listens to you rant about the plants you’re currently watering while in the greenhouse. You talk about the plants as if they were human and that some need the care and attentiveness like babies need.
He stops what he’s doing to acknowledge your presence as you walk into the room. He’d be talking mid-conversation to greet you with the softest look that's ever to come across his face. He would walk over to you and give you a kiss on your cheek. Even passing one another in the hall on your way to class, he’ll give you a quick kiss on the cheek. .
He holds terms of endearment for you and you only. Calling you: darling, sweetheart, sweets, baby…
He subtly communicates with you without words. He looks for you in crowded rooms and silently asks if you’re okay. Based on the expression of your face he’s either quick to comfort you or gives you a nod of understanding that you’re okay.
He holds your hands against his chest to make you feel his heartbeat. He loves feeling you run your hands up and down his body as you talk about your day.
He picks you up by your waist to make you wrap your legs around his torso while he covers your face with light kisses here and there when he comes home.
He places you on the bathroom sink to brush your teeth or to help him trim his beard. He closes his eyes under your gentle touch as he soothingly rubs circles on your thighs with his thumb.
He locks you in his arms in the morning to keep you in bed. He loves to hear your laughs as he buries his face into your neck knowing that it tickles you.
He pulls you by the waist when you walk away from him without giving him a kiss. As soon as you’re close as possible, he cups the back of your head and takes your breath away with a deep kiss.
He spreads his legs open just wide enough to let you sit on one of his thighs while he sits under the stars in the yard. He hums softly at the feeling of your fingers running through the back of his neck and through his hair.
He whispers that he loves you every time he kisses you.
That’s how Logan Howlett expresses his love.
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#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#logan x professor!reader#wolverine x female reader#wolverine x reader#x men movies#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x you#james howlett#logan wolverine#worst wolverine#wolverine#x men wolverine#x men#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x you#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fanart
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Pleasure - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Just a small Drabble about our fave fucked up, dark professor. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Professor Riddle threatens to fail the reader, something she won’t accept. Just pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, degrading, orgasm denial, Tom being Tom, power imbalance
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (1.2k words)
“You threaten to fail me? Are you out of your mind?” Her voice boomed through the class room, eyes set on the professor whose assistant she had been for the past months now. His piercing eyes didn’t meet hers, he kept his gaze set on the papers, correcting the homework she had collected minutes ago. All before he had dropped this bomb on her, telling (y/n) that she was about to fail his class. “Look at me!”
“Careful, (y/n).” His eyes snapped up to meet hers, voice sharper than a knife. He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed in front of his chest while staring at her like a snake about to snap at its prey. He had always been a dangerous man, a man whose aura was a warning itself, set on pulling her into his dark trap. But today he had something else to him, something even more ruthless.
“Tell me why!” She was fuming, set on letting go of a piercing scream. This must be a joke, a prank he was pulling on her - her grades were better than most, she was always on time, and when she was working for him, she did everything he asked of her.
“I don’t owe you any explanations. And your behaviour proves to me that you’re not mature enough to work on it. Leave.” (Y/n) didn’t move, she kept staring at Professor Riddle who slowly rose to his feet. A part of her screamed at her to leave, to run before it was too late, but the more stubborn part forced her to stand still and watch his every move. “Is this how you want to play? This is my last warning, (y/n).”
Her body was trembling in anger and need, all while her mind brought back flashes of a similar moment that had happened weeks ago. Back then she had left this room with trembling thighs and his handprint burned into her behind. The following hours had been spent hidden away in her room while pushing herself over the edge numerous times with his name burning on the tip of her tongue.
“I am not scared of you.” She cocked her head, chin pointed in his direction while she looked up at him. It was a foolish game she was playing - a game she was about to lose, but she didn’t care, couldn’t worry about any wins or losses, knowing that whatever would happen between them would count as a win in her book.
“You should be.” His ringed hand found her throat, tugging (y/n) in for a teeth clashing kiss. She moaned into the touch, unable to stop her hands from wandering, from finding the back of his neck to keep him close. (Y/n) felt her surroundings spin, throwing her into another dimension while the professor moved her backwards to heave his TA onto his table. With her legs wrapped around his waist, (y/n) kept him close, not daring to think of parting just yet. “You try to distract me with those pretty little things you wear, you try to make a fool out of me, but you’ll never have this much power over me. You’re mine, (y/n), I’m the one guiding you.”
She could only moan in delight, feeling his hand disappear beneath her skirt to press his fingertips against her clothed heat. Slowly, he began to circle her bundle through the fabric of her panties, feeling them grow damp beneath his touch. A soft chuckle let him, buzzing through both their bodies while his lips moved down her throat, sucking on the spots that drew moans from her.
“You’ve been asking for it for months, so now you’ll take my cock like the desperate slut you are. But I won’t let you cum, not this afternoon.” His words drew a protesting moan from (y/n), eyes wide while she stared at him. No words managed to pass her parted lips, unsure how to speak up as the sounds reaching her distracted (y/n).
Within seconds he had freed his cock, pushing a condom down his length before her panties were tugged aside. Her fingernails left crescent marks on the spot where his shoulder met his neck as he pushed into her, forcing her tight walls to adjust to him. A part of her wanted to beg him to slow down, to give her some moments to relax before taking all of him, but that part didn’t get a chance to speak up, silenced by her loud moans.
Professor Riddle fucked her ruthlessly, he was using her body, set on chasing his own high while sticking to his promise. Tonight he wouldn’t let her cum, at least not for a few hours before finding his way to her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin onto the back of his hand which was still holding her throat. She was torn between focusing on the way he perfectly stretched her, about to push her over the edge, and the way he held onto her all too possessively, leaving her heart jumping in excitement.
“This is why I need to keep you around, love.” The nickname had a condescending touch to it, leaving her gasping while she tried to focus on his words. “You’re all for me to use, all for my own pleasure.”
(Y/n) nodded her head while another gasp left her, head wanting to roll back - though without any luck as he kept holding onto her. She felt his cock tearing her apart with every thrust, drunk on the feeling of him fucking her this posessively. With moans ripping their way through her, she clawed at his skin, giving into the subconscious need to mark him up to have the same claim on him.
“What would you ever do without me, huh? You’re so needy, such a pathetic little girl.” She was close to letting go, high on the low tones of his raspy voice, on the way he spoke to her with spite and adoration dripping from his tongue. With one hand still clinging to him, she let the other find her pulsing bundle, circling it a few times to give herself the needed push. Something he instantly stopped her from doing after a second or two.
“I told you I won’t let you cum for now. I don’t make empty threats, love.” More tears fell from her eyes as she stared up at Professor Riddle. Her walls clenched his cock, hoping to pull him into her trap - something he didn’t seem to care for as he pulled out of her to cum on her thighs.
“You’ll wait for me tonight, and perhaps if you’re good, I’ll let you cum.”
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detention // remus lupin.
professor!lupin x fem!reader
plot: on your last day of sixth year, you get detention with professor lupin, developing a huge crush on him since then. two years later, you graduated from hogwarts and were invited to join the order of phoenix by the weasley twins, so you arrive at the black family house where you've been provided with a place to stay by the order after recently being kicked out of your home. is then when you discovered that you would have to live under the same roof not only with sirius, but also with your big crush from years ago, remus lupin.
tw: professor x ex-student, nothing inappropriate happened when y/n was a minor, like a huge age gap (reader is 19, almost 20), mostly romance/fluff i guess, a little angst, mentions of the reader being a slytherin, reader is friends with the twins but she's older than them by a year, mentions of smoking, sirius black being sirius black it's his own warning, low caps on purpose.
notes: english is not my first language, thank you for the support on the other one-shots!!! ALSO HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! ♡♡ xoxo.
ps: i wrote this listening to speak now (the whole album) by taylor swift and it was an INTENSE experience.
it was your last day of sixth year and you couldn't believe that your last hours before dinner and taking the train were going to be spent on remus lupin office. now you really regretted following the twin's ideas for once.
in your eyes it was an innocent last-day-of-school prank, but it ended up in you three accidentally setting the whopping willow aflame for like twenty seconds before the three of you managed to stop the fire. yet, professor snape was the one to see the whole sequence of events, meaning he was completely livid and not so forgiving as others professors could be so he sent you and the twins straight to detention.
and that's how you ended up in professor lupin empty classroom, in detention, for three hours. of course snape separated you from the twins, so not only you were going to be sitting in one of the classroom benches for a long time, you were also alone.
remus was finishing getting some papers in order as he supervised you, and you sat quietly in the front row, completely bored as you looked at what he was doing to entertain yourself. in one moment, his eyes went to you, noticing your clearly irritated face.
the moment snape appeared in his door grabbing you and made him take care of your detention time (only to put more work on him last minute, he believed) you made him remember the times he used to do the same stupid shit with sirius, james and peter.
so, for the sake of the old times and the fact this was the last day of school, he decided to make your detention a little bit more entertaining.
“miss (l/n).” he called you, his voice calm as always.
“professor lupin.” you answered, still irritated but with the energy to speak ironically.
“what were you trying to do with the twins?” remus asked you, a subtle smile on his lips. he was looking at his work while he talked to you.
“when?” you answered smiling, trying to play dumb because the fact that the prank went terribly wrong embarrassed the hell out of you.
remus stopped organizing his paperwork as he raised his eyes from his work to give you a serious “don't pretend you don't understand” look, making you sigh in redemption.
“okay, im sorry professor, stop looking at me like that. it frightens me a bit.” you admitted as you rolled your eyes. “we were trying to set fireworks that were meant to activate when everyone went outside to take the carriages.”
his eyes relaxed when he got and answer and he continued with his work. he seemed to be just minutes away to finishing with his paperwork, though.
“you know, when i was your age i did the same kind of things with my friends.” remus said, chuckling a bit.
“no way.” you answered, clearly in disbelief. remus looked at you smiling softly for a moment.
“i swear” he added, and you instantly laughed.
“for merlin's sake!” you exclaimed, enjoying his confession and now feeling less alone than before. “the mysterious and innocent looking professor lupin ended up being a troublemaker, who could have guessed it?” you said, laughing.
he smiled as you laughed, still working on his papers.
“mysterious?” remus asked, an eyebrow raising in curiosity.
“y'know, what the other girls always say about you.” you added, trying to reference the constant things you heard from your classmates. “that you're mysterious because of your-... y'know.” you pointed at your face to reference his scars with all the delicacy you had. being a slytherin didn't helped a lot with having much tact, but for remus you tried. remus on the other hand, was usually uncomfortable with his scars but it warmed his heart a little that his students didn't think his face was completely unpleasant, as he did.
“they also say that you appear to be sweet and kind” you kept enlisting what you always heard, things that you also thought. things, that you firmly believed he didn't needed to know you thought. “and of course what i consider a classic at this point: that you're beautiful.” you ended up, a little smile on your lips.
remus stayed silent for a second before answering. a yawn scaped your lips as you were really tired. the whole thing with snape scolding you and the twins into oblivion had left you exahusted, yet you guessed remus wouldn't let you sleep on detention.
“those are all the things they say about me?” he asked, calmly. his apparently soft lips giving you a warm smile. somehow inside your chest you knew he wasn't as pure as he appeared.
in your eyes, remus had the look of a wounded man who couldn't afford to be innocent because he was already rotting since long ago, his soul marked with the kiss of something beautiful enough to torture a man.
there had to be a reason for the way this man was always looking like he knew something you didn't.
“yes. i think all the girls have a crush on you.” you said, answering his question like if your mind wasn't lingering on the way his fingers moved while manipulating every paper in his desk. that's what finally made you realize that in some point you were included in the affirmation you said, because remus lupin was too kind with everyone for you to handle it properly.
yet, you thought it was natural for you to develop a crush when this man guided your hand with his in class and whispered sweet instructions in your ear when he picked you to make a demonstration. i mean, who would not feel butterflies around him was the right question.
“i never noticed.” he lied, because in fact he did noticed, but it was fun to have someone gossiping with him about the class rumours. not that remus specifically enjoyed them though, but sometimes he felt like a gossip when discussing with, for example, minerva about all the things other students commented about him.
and right now, you were the one making him feel like a gossip. he honestly believed that you were his funniest student but also the most oblivious one.
oblivious, because you truly believed he didn't noticed you were one of the girls crushing on him too.
you smiled at remus, looking at him for a moment. you were aware that he probably lied about not noticing what the girls commented of him. he had this delicate demeanor in his face features that you couldn't fully explain, even if his skin was full of scars.
and every single one of those scars felt like a whole mistery waiting for you to solve. what you didn't knew yet, was that his scars were a prophecy of his damnation.
“i thought every teacher noticed.” you stated, smiling tiredly at him. as your thoughts became a little cloudy, you could notice that you were about to fall asleep, so you felt like you had to ask remus if you could rest a moment, or at least warn him. “professor lupin” you called him.
“yes, (y/n)?” remus answered, using your name. a chuckle settled in his lips as he used the same ironic tone you used earlier when he called your name.
maybe it was the fact that you were sixteen at the time, and your hormones were crazy or the way you suddenly started struggling to stay awake, but something in the way your name came out of his lips made you feel like you had a cloud of furious butterflies inside your body, eager to come out of you. his voice made your name sound so elegant that every letter curled in your guts and twisted your heart like a siren call straight from the deepest ocean.
a subtle blush settled on your cheeks, and you took a deep breath as you noticed how his smell was all over the classroom: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. autumn.
being in sixth grade meant that the amortentia was on your class program, and after some time alone with professor lupin, you quickly connected the dots of what was exactly the scent you smelt that one time snape put a calderon full of amortentia in front of your class and asked what was it.
yet you were getting too sleepy to deal with the huge crush you just realized you had with remus lupin in that moment. « i'll handle it next year » you thought, like if he wasn't in your amortentia scent, before finally answering him.
“nothing, i was just going to ask if it would be possible for me to take a quick nap here” you asked him, smiling clearly tired. “please professor lupin, snape exahusted the hell out of me.” you added, as if the plea would do something to help your case.
remus looked at you clearly trying not to laugh at the things you said. if you only knew he detested him just as you did, and that he always got exahusted from dealing with severus too.
he let out a deep breath before answering.
“go ahead. you do seem tired.” he said, having a little mercy on you. “i'll wake you when detention it's over.” remus added, now having finished with his paperwork and opening a book he had in his desk. it was the last day of school, and he felt like you deserved a little of good will from him.
you rested your head on your arms against the bench, closing your eyes softly.
“thank you professor, that's why you're my favourite.” you said, finally letting the sleep trap you in his arms.
remus watched over your dreams with the affection only him could possess. the sweetness he lacked as a wolf, he had it as a human.
so, when you had sleep over almost all your detention time, remus stood up from his desk chair and walked over you to finally woke you from your well deserved nap, fifteen minutes before dinner.
“y/n” he said, calmly. “y/n” he repeated.
you opened your eyes, moved your head a bit and looked up at him, standing up in front of you.
“good evening, professor.” your answer came out sleepy, pieces of your dreams lingering on your body.
“good evening, y/n.” he smiled at you from above. “here, take this.” remus said, placing a piece of chocolate in your bench, next to your head. “it'll wake you up a little.”
you didn't answer, as you were still trying to keep your eyes open.
“i need to get all these papers to my office, please leave the classroom door closed when you go to the great hall” he added, ruffling your hair with kindness before grabbing a pile of papers on his desk and leaving you alone in the classroom with the piece of chocolate as his only remain.
when you were awake enough, in the solitude of the classroom, you ate the chocolate piece and left, too excited and flustered with what just happened to remember that you had to leave the class door closed.
after that day you went home, spent your vacations there until your seventh year started, and when you got to hogwarts and dumbledore announced that your new professor of defense against dark arts was going to be alastor moody, your stomach dropped to your feet in deception.
that was the exact moment you damned your sleepy ass and how you thought you could do something about your crush «next year». you couldn't. you wouldn't.
and the worst part is that you knew that even if remus were there, nothing would have ever happen. he was a good man, and you were just a stupid girl thinking you stood a single chance with him. or maybe not, but still you wanted to see him every day again if it was possible.
the first night of your seventh year you cried like a heartbroken girl in your bed because you thought you wouldn't see remus again, and none of your dorm mates knew what happened to you or how they could help.
the only ones who knew what was happening to you were fred and george, because they were your best friends, and even if they did everything to make you feel better you were still crying for weeks like if someone had died.
and, being aware that harry potter surely would know what happened with lupin, the twins borderline interrogated him for days until he spilled out what he knew. so fred and george came back to you with the whole story: lupin was a werewolf and he had to quit because snape sniched on him with the students parents. obviously, you scolded them because harry had enough to think about with someone slipping his name into the goblet of fire but you were extremely grateful, and now you had an excuse to murder snape.
yet, you also had an answer to all the questions you had about remus. why his face was full of scars, why he looked so emotionally wounded, why he always seemed to know something you didn't, why he disappeared once per month. he was a werewolf.
so, settling with the fact that you would probably never hear of him again you kept your broken heart and your silly little crush in a box, graduated from hogwarts and went home. until one day, an owl with a letter woke you up early in the morning crashing into your window. you recognized fred's messy calligraphy.
« dear (y/n):
well that sounded awful. anyways, how is it going? be kind enough to write us a letter one of these days, we've been missing you.
since you're sooo good doing crazy shit with your wand (almost like us) me and george fred george recommended you to our parents for a little organization that's starting to rise again. we cannot explain more since y'know, the ministry is intercepting owls like crazy.
please come on september 9th at night to 12 grimmauld place. don't use flu. or maybe just come to our house first and we can take you there. yes, that's it, come to our home and we'll go together to grimmauld place.
we expect a letter to confirm your answer. or maybe just a letter telling us about you. please write us we're desperate!! and we miss you!!
ps: lupin will be there ;) SO SAY YES!!
sincerely yours,
fred george george and fred fred and george weasley »
you laughed at the whole letter, and when you read about remus being there, you decided to do what they asked you. you quickly wrote an answer and sent the owl back to them saying yes, but your parents ended up finding their letter.
your parents weren't the most tolerant people, being wizards with an opulent life and purist ideas just like the malfoys, so of course they weren't happy about you receiving a letter not from one but two weasleys. and for once you stood up to fight them back, confessing you planned to go with your friends.
that was the last straw, and days before of what fred and george stated, you were in their front door because your parents kicked you out of home with promises of disinherit you. you were a blood traitor on their eyes now.
the weasleys kindly received you and finally explained for what organization they were trying to recruit you: the order of the phoenix.
you agreed to join gladly, out of rage for your parents ideals and out of impotence because you openly believed what harry said: voldemort was back.
and, just as fred and george promised, on september 9th everyone went to grimmauld place, you included. it was a shiny full moon night and when you and the weasleys stood in front of the door, for a second you wondered if remus was okay. if his transformations were painful, if he was going to be comforted after.
when you got inside the house, the weasleys revealed to you that the plan was for you to stay at grimmauld place, and keep sirius black (who you recently found out that was an innocent) company the most part of the year. you were told that everyone would pass from time to time and that remus was probably going to be staying there the most of the time too.
so, you met sirius, who guided you to his deseaced mother's room and told you to leave your things there since you were going to be living there full time. you settled up and after a lovely dinner that molly prepared, you officially joined the order.
it almost felt like a fever dream, days ago you were at your parents house, and now you were joining a resistance and just hours away from seeing remus lupin again. a part of you was excited and other was scared of falling in love with him, heartbeat going crazy just at the idea of sharing a home with him.
you went to bed in the middle of a haze, the sheets embraced you with tenderness as you closed your eyes and the fatigue of all the events clouding your life catched up with you. you had a dreamless sleep until a scream suddenly waked you.
you didn't found time to change as you got out of bed almost running, worried that something had happened. yet, the moment you went down the stairs you saw arthur, sirius, moody and molly (who was clearly agitated and you guessed she was also the one who screamed) looking at someone laying in the sofa of the living room.
it was late for you to go back unnoticed, as sirius instantly saw you.
“(y/n)” he said, tenderly. “i apologize if we woke you.”
you didn't answered because in the exact moment he talked to you, arthur moved from his place and you saw the face you never thought you would ever see again.
remus layed on the sofa, his face was extremely pale and full of scraches, he had a nasty wound on his chest and in general, he looked sick. molly was helping to treat the deep cut on his chest and you quickly realized that was probably what made her scream.
you looked at sirius, your expression soaked in concern for remus state. it was almost unrealistic seeing him like this but you finally understood the violence involved in being cursed by the moon.
it was the first time you saw him in two years but your eyes couldn't fully believe what they were seeing. the one you adored so much in deep secret, was injured and almost unconscious.
a part of you knew you didn't had to seem extremely worried if you intended to keep your secret, but it was hard for you to restrain your feelings.
“is he-...” you doubted before the words escaped your lips. “is he going to be alright?”
no one but sirius payed attention to your presence as they were focused on remus. he looked at you with reassurance as you stood on the doorframe.
“yes, yes. do not worry, he has been worse.” sirius answered, giving you a calm smile. “go back to sleep, tomorrow it's going to be a long day and we'll have a meeting.” he added, as his attention went back to remus.
your feet refused to move for a couple of seconds and just when you were about to turn back and go to bed, remus eyes met yours. his gaze subtly widened and you felt like a deer in lights, provoking you to almost run upstairs just the way you did a couple minutes ago.
but as you left, remus felt ashamed of himself. after not seeing you for so long, suddenly now you knew what he was, who he was. what the beast inside of him provoked every full moon.
at the same time everyone treated his wounds, trying to make him feel better, in his mind he cursed his lycanthropy. remus couldn't help but feel like a constant burden, a beast who had to be kept captive.
as a couple of days went by, you didn't saw remus at all. molly insisted on him resting some days in bed since he was injured and his transformation had been quite violent so you only heard the news that she or sirius brought back of remus state when they went to check on him.
until one night you couldn't sleep, and you decided to go downstairs for a cup of tea. you tried to be silent as you got out of your room in your pajamas and went to the kitchen.
but oblivious as you always were, you didn't noticed that as you prepared your tea, your back facing the doorframe, someone else was also getting into the kitchen but with the intention to get a coffee.
“good evening, miss (l/n)” you jumped back as the teasing voice of remus lupin scared you, making you drop a bit of tea over the counter.
“shit-... prof- sorry-...” you said, surprised and nervous. the words struggled to find an order while coming out of your lips but you realized in time that remus wasn't you professor anymore and that he was probably joking.
the way he said your last name scratched your brain in a oddly specific way. or well, everything he said had that effect on you.
“im sorry, i didn't meant to-...” remus started to say but you interrupted his words, turning to face him.
“don't worry it's okay, i didn't thought someone else would be awake.” you answered, smiling at him.
the moment you looked at him you noticed that remus had the same loving and sweet gaze he had two years ago. all this time you believed that you may had been delusional about your crush over him, that maybe you had set a extremely high standard or that this was all a product of the idealized remus you had on your brain, but no.
as you saw him standing there, a comfortable brown sweater on his body and his now healed scratches on his face you realized that the man you've been crushing on was as wounded and broken as you once remembered. the same tender look on his eyes being a constant reminder of the cruelty of his destiny at the hands of the moonlight.
“you can call me remus, by the way.” he clarified, smiling at you and you nodded.
“remus... sounds good. better than professor lupin.” your answer was a little bold but you felt relief when he chuckled. “so, what are you doing here this late?” you asked as the cup of tea went to your lips and you took a sip, testing the temperature.
“i could ask you the same, you know?” remus smiled as he walked closer to the counter, meaning he was closer to you too. “i was craving coffee, and since the days after the full moon i can never sleep, a night coffee it seemed like a good idea.” he added, as he started preparing one. “also this is the only place in the house where molly allows me to smoke.” he said whispering playful like if he was telling you a secret.
then you gave a quick look at the ceiling and noticed that had some stains. stains caused by the cigarette smoke, you guessed.
you smiled at him and took another sip of your tea.
“are you feeling better, then?” you finally asked him, curious and nervous. the question had been repressed in your chest for a couple of days.
“well, sirius and molly took good care of me.” remus said, still preparing his coffee. “i feel a little numb this time, though. it was more intense than usually.”
“i was a bit worried.” you admitted, looking at his hot coffee on the counter, and then directing your eyes to his.
“i know, i saw you. and i heard you.” he answered, now grabbing a cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “i thought you were scared of me, by the way you ran upstairs when i looked at you.” remus smiled a bit while speaking, but it became a melancholic smile when he said those last sentences. then he put he cigarette on his lips like a tender death kiss.
you realized how he was probably insecure about his nature. for him, a death omen. but for you, it felt like the moon loved him so much she needed to have him for herself once a month. but it was a exhausting love, the kind of love that consumes you to the core of your being and hurts your soul.
yet you wondered what kind of love remus had to offer, and if he indeed had feelings for someone inside his chest, who would be the one blessed with remus love.
when remus lighted the cigarette, he took a deep drag and released the smoke with a certain elegance that you couldn't explain.
“no, i could never-...” you stopped yourself from saying something you would probably regret. “i wasn't scared, i was embarrassed. i thought i was being intrusive. it was one hell of a entrance after not seeing you for two years, though.”
he smiled at you, more relaxed than before as he leant against the kitchen counter. the hand that didn't held the cigarette was now grabbing his coffee and your eyes quickly made their way to his fingers against the cup. you felt like you were sixteen again, looking at his hands.
when he answered your gaze found his again.
“you're right, it's been a long time.” remus took a sip of his coffee. “i hope you didn't got in much trouble after i left.”
“i became a bit worse.” you admitted. then your lips kept moving, saying things you didn't thought you would ever admit. “i used to have a crush on you, back in hogwarts. i was sad when you left.”
remus smirked, the cigarette separating from his lips before he responded.
“i know, the twins told me some weeks ago, before one of the meetings.” he confessed, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “they said you cried.”
a deep blush crept into your cheeks, and a intense feeling of embarrassment settled in your stomach. you left the tea on the counter, and covered your face.
“oh for merlin's sake, i can't believe they told you.” your hands left your face and you stared at the floor for a second.
“if it makes you feel better, i already knew.” remus said, finishing his cigarette.
you stared at him in disbelief.
“since when?” you asked, feeling like you could die of embarrassment.
“since the day you had detention with me.” he answered, calmly. “it is true? you cried?” remus curiosity won over him.
you sighed, defeated.
“yes, i cried.” your words were shy, but then you became a little confident. “fred and george told me snape was the one that made you quit, so he became my pranks target and i got a lot of detention time.”
remus laughed, and that made you blush even more and your heartbeat raised to the ceiling. he finished his coffee and spoke.
“i pity him, i wouldn't dare to provoke the rage of a young woman.” remus answered. “even less yours.”
“why-...?” you were about to grab your cup of tea again as you responded but his hand moved to the kitchen counter counter in that exact moment, meeting your hand with his.
when your hands touched, it felt like a shock of electricity running through your whole body. you instantly pulled back from his contact, looking at the floor.
feeling like you had your heart stuck in your throat, an inevitable realization came to you like a rush of adrenaline. you were too far gone for this to be only a crush. you've spent two years loving him endlessly, and now that you were with him you could only wonder if you would've kept loving remus like this if the twins hadn't recruited you, and he weren't beside you in this exact moment.
the typical boldness that layed on your chest had left you for a moment and you needed to take a deep breath. when the words came to you, they were far more brave that you could ever imagine.
“what if this crush never faded?” your voice trembled for a second. “what if it became worse?”
remus sighed and took his hand to your chin and forced you to look a him in the eyes in a sweet gesture.
“we can't, i'm too old for you.” he said, almost in a whisper.
“i never cared about that.” you answered in a heartbeat.
“well, i do care. it's not only the age, it's-...” he made a brief pause. “i'm dangerous, (y/n). im not good for you at all.”
“i don't care, remus. i'm not scared of you.” you moved closer, you could be in front of him.
remus was taller than you, a detail that never failed to make you weak before him. you looked up at his eyes.
“you don't even know me properly.” his voice sounded a bit shaky.
“i never thought i did, yet i always had the desire to do so.” everything he had to said, you've already had thought an argument ages ago thinking of all the things he could say if this situation happened.
and you never thought it would, but luckily the gods or whatever above heard the constant plea of your heart.
“i can't keep a job because i'm a werewolf, (y/n) please think of what you're saying for a second-...” you interrupted him.
“you could say your face will turn green every night and i wouldn't care. please, just give me one chance.” you said, almost in a whisper. a sweet plea for him to spare your heart.
remus thought you were a beautiful woman, brave, ambitious and oddly astute. an intelligence made for chaos and not exactly for books, but he knew better than to ruin you and in his eyes just even trying to date you would feel like setting on fire to your promising life.
he was a monster, fearful that his lycanthropy could hurt you or affect you forever, not to mention he was frightened that his children could end up being cursed like him.
but then he looked at you, so willing to have him, so in love and he felt his heart melting.
maybe you could try, right? just a try.
“i-...” remus began to say. “i think we can try.”
you sighed in relief as you got closer to him, your chest almost touching his.
his smell clouded your mind the same way it did years ago and you knew in your insides that if you someone put amortentia in fron of you, you would feel his scent as you once did: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. the smell of autumn itself.
his eyes, his voice, his smell, all of him provoked your chest to feel like it was about to explode, enchanting your mind like if some sort of love spell was being casted on your soul.
and now, he was yours. all yours.
one of your wildest dreams came true, and you knew your heart needed to seal the moment the best way you could. there was a gift, an offering to be made at the altar of your love.
there was something you never dared to give anyone else before, because no man was like him.
“you know, i saved something special for a moment like this.” the confession came out of your lips as you grabbed his face to lure him like a beautiful nymph and make him lean into your direction.
and even if he didn't say anything. your words hit remus straight on the face, twisting his guts and he just couldn't believe how nervous he was.
when his eyes looked at you as you grabbed his face and got closer, to him you looked divine just as a superior being could be.
in the moment you kissed him, it was a sweet kiss that made remus shiver from head to toe and take his hands to your waist almost like if you were made of glass.
the first time you kissed someone and it was him. it felt like you were putting a blessing on his soul, fixing even if it was just fo a second, the damage of his eternal curse.
remus wondered if he was the one who would fell in love deeper, noticing the control you had over him just with a kiss, how he suddenly could fall to his knees if you asked.
the soft exchange between your lips ended when a voice interrupted you both.
“for merlin's beard, moony.” sirius voice spoke from the doorframe. as remus avoided his look ashamed, you looked at him a bit irritated for interrupting. “don't look at me like that, (y/n). i didn't expected to find people kissing inside my kitchen when i came here to drink water.” he smirked, mocking you both
after a couple of seconds you laughed at his words, and remus followed you. the first fifteen minutes into this uncommon thing you had and you were already laughing at sirius together.
remus felt relieved and for a moment he believed that any difficulties you could have, you'll both be able to work it out together.
maybe it didn't matter if he was a werewolf or if you were this younger, or if he was frightened to hurt you.
because maybe remus wasn't as cursed as he thought.
i hope you enjoyed this, i spent DAYS writing it and im glad i got to release it for halloween!!! xoxo.
#remus lupin x reader#marauders imagine#sirius black x reader#marauders#sirius black#remus lupin smut#james potter x reader#the marauders#harry potter#lily evans#severus snape#james potter#remus lupin#sirius x reader#sirius black smut#remus x reader#marauders fanfiction#james potter smut#harry james potter x reader#professor lupin x reader#professor lupin#halloween#happy halloween
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After Office Hours
Pairing: Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Reader goes to her favorite professor hoping to find ways to improve her grade. He has some unconventional extra credit opportunities in mind...
WC: 1.3k
Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi public sex, thigh riding, use of y/n, use of “baby’ and “little girl” plz let me know if i’m missing any!
You’re running down the hallway of the law building at your university silently begging that your professor is still there. As you approach the door, he’s exiting, keys in hand. “Wait, Professor Reid! I’m here! Don’t go!” You call out to him closing the last yards of space between you. “Miss y/l/n you’re late, office hours are over.” “No Dr. Reid you don’t understand! My statistics professor wouldn’t let us leave until we finished the lesson on probability distributions! I told him I had office hours to get to and he didn’t care. Please Dr. Reid I really need to talk to you about my grade!” He puts his hands in his pockets and sighs while gears are turning in his head. “Fine, for you I’ll make an exception.” “Thank you thank you.” You try not to read too much into his comment as he opens the door, “after you.” You don’t notice that he locks the door after following you in.
As he sits across from you at the desk, you pull out your physical midterm paper all marked up in red ink. “I thought I grasped this concept so well! I don’t understand how I got a C-.” “Y/N, you got a stressor and trigger backward. You failed to accurately explain the concept. The points you did get were from the passion in your writing. I appreciated the way you wrote, but I couldn’t give you a higher grade. I’m sorry.”
“Professor, I have a 3.5 GPA and I can’t have that drop, especially not from my favorite class!” He clasps his hands under his chin with his elbows below him. “Miss y/l/n, it seems you have been struggling in this class for a while now. I see how hard you work but you have narrowly maintained a B-. If this is your favorite class, why didn’t you come to office hours sooner?” “I-” Your mind is moving too fast to form an answer. You look down at the ground and can’t help but press your thighs together. You’ve only had a few moments in such close proximity to Professor Reid before, and definitely not alone. His eyes seem to darken, “Do I make you nervous?” You just press your legs further together “Umm..” “Come here.” He says in a soft yet demanding tone while scooting his chair back. When you walk over to him he gestures towards his lap. “Sit.” You comply. You put your right hand on his shoulder as his left-hand reaches around you and grips your side. He can probably hear your heart beating out of your chest.
“You know how I knew you wanted this? When I guest lectured in your physics class you were wearing sweatpants. Out of anything you could have worn, sweatpants. You tried to hide it, but I saw your eyes widen when you saw me. You never dared to be caught dead in front of me clad from one of your tiny little skirts you love wearing to my class.” He takes the hand not at your side and squeezes above your knee. “Do you wear those skirts just for me? Tell me the truth.” You turn to him but avoid eye contact. In the quietest voice you say “Yes, just for you professor.” Knowing you were coming straight to his office hours after stats, you wore one of your shortest skirts and knee-high black boots. You hoped being alone in office hours on a dark fall night he wouldn’t be able to resist you. It was worth a shot, anyway. He smirks and before he has a chance to reply you say, “Now back to my grade, is there anything I can do to improve the grade I got on my midterm? Can I resubmit it with your notes taken into account?” “I’m sorry miss y/l/n but there's nothing I can do. The university policy states that once midterm grades are locked, any work done before can not be revised. My apologies.”
“Is there anything I can do? Any extra credit opportunities this term? I can help you grade papers or clean your classroom! Please I’ll do anything! I need to improve my grade, please!” He just stares at you while you beg. “Anything?” He says with a devilish smirk. “Yes sir.” You say back to him, smiling and batting your eyelashes. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and once he opens them he locks eyes with you and says, “Ride my thigh.” “Excuse me, Doctor?” His dick jumps at the honorific. “You said you’d do anything to improve your grade. I know you heard me, ride my thigh.” You cannot believe Dr. Reid just asked you for this. Since the first day of class, he has been the sole object of your fantasies. You’ve fallen asleep many nights imagining him bending you over his desk and fucking you until you scream.
Without a second thought, you stand up to resituate yourself on his lap, straddling his left thigh. The moment you stand up he reaches for your wrist, “What are you doing?” You smile on the inside, those four simple words have shown you he wants this as badly as you do. “Don’t worry professor, I’m just turning around, I need something to grab onto.” You say as you sink down onto him. You put both hands on either side of his shoulders and begin to rock back and forth finding your rhythm. The roughness of his khakis against your ass and your thong pushed against your clit has you stifling your moans quickly. He grabs your chin to make you look at him, “I want to hear you, baby.” You let the moans leave your lips, still mindful of volume. He puts one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip, gently guiding you. When he touches you, you are on cloud nine. Here you are, in your professor's office after hours riding his thigh as he speaks sweet praises to you. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. “That’s it baby keep going.” You are eyeing the member in his pants start to grow. Every time he speaks you get closer and closer to the edge. He can tell by the way you’re speeding up. “Come for me little girl, I want to hear how good you’re feeling.” The use of little girl sends you over the edge.
Tightly gripping his shoulders as you ride out the rest of your orgasm, leaving dents in his shoulders through his dress shirt. Once you’re done cumming, you collapse onto his chest breathing heavily. Staring down at his lap you see his dick straining against his pants, and he’s huge. He gently rubs your back as you come down from your high. He kisses your head and lifts you by your shoulders facing him. You’re staring deep into his eyes. “You did so good for me, but it's getting late, you should get home.” “Right right, sorry. I’ll head out now.” As you stand up and adjust your skirt you notice the wet spot you left on his pants.
He sees you staring and interrupts your thoughts, “Don’t worry about it. Can I plan to see you next week at office hours?” “Yes!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “Um I mean yeah, I’ll be here.” You say in a chiller tone. “Good, I have more extra credit opportunities in mind, I hope to see you in class on Monday. Next week, come to office hours once they're done, okay? Don’t show up before 7.” “Yes Dr. Reid, I look forward to improving my grade however you see fit.” You say with a wink heading towards the door. When you go to turn the knob it's locked. You unlock it and glance back at him. He’s still staring at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You have the biggest smile on your face walking back towards your dorm, next week's office hours can’t come soon enough.
a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in about 10 years! Should I turn this into a mini series? I have more ideas for how this story could go! Any feedback is greatly appreciated <3
#softdom!spencer#professor!reid#professor!spencer reid#spencer reid#professor reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fanfic#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid smut#soft dom spencer reid
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