#professor!loki

[five-miles-over]

I really like the way that @darkficsyouneveraskedfor poses the reader as someone who feels hardly noticed by quoting examples from her interactions with her roommates and her not having any friends. It really puts her in such a perfect position for this older figure of Professor Laufeyson to enter her life. With literally one interaction, the way he invades her personal space and he uses such theatrical language (at least that's the vibe I'm getting)

“I was carried away, I apologise, but you are… so beautiful and I see you are unappreciated for that, it strikes my heart,”

“I will have to keep you to those thoughts that keep me awake at night and those dreams that hound my sleep,” he declares, “and I will have to look elsewhere as I give my lectures, as hard as it should be.”

, he makes such a memorable entrance. I'm staring the next chapter immediately.

Professor Loki or Professor Thor?

Forbidden Lessons

Warnings: age gap, abuse of power, unwanted touching. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

His fingers tickle the back of your neck, setting you on edge, the blur around the notebook's edges coming into focus. You lift your head and look up, realising the lecture hall is empty. 

It was supposed to be a quick question. You didn’t expect Professor Laufeyson to sit in the seat beside you, a little too low for his long legs, and to lean in as he looks over your notes.

He peers down, pointing along your loopy writing with the nib of your pen. You hardly recall him taking it from you as he writes comments in the margins.

“I can offer some revised notes. I do post my PowerPoints on the course site,” he advises, playing with the back of your collar, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, “or you can visit my office hours. I do try to be as hands-on with those struggling.”

“Struggling?” you bat your lashes at him in horror, “I thought…”

“You listen well, yes, and you ask many questions but your last paper,” he shakes his head and closes his eyes grimly, “I know you can do better.”

“Oh?” your lips round as his green eyes flick open and meet yours. He’s close, very closer as his touch wanders from your collar and he draws you against the arm of the chair, gripping your shoulder as his thumb caress the top of your sleeve.

“You’re a smart girl but there’s a lot of changes that come with college,” he says, “I notice how… you sit alone. You haven’t made many friends, have you?”

“Well, I…” you look down, embarrassed. His fingers send a shiver through you. Should he be that close? “I study a lot and, um, my roommates are nice.”

“Oh, yes, but your classmates? They hardly seem to notice you. What a pity. I find it very hard not to, you know?”

“To what?” you squeak.

“To notice you,” he breathes as he leans in.

You turn away, burning from the heat of his proximity. “Professor, thank you for your help but I…” you pause as his lips meet your cheek. 

You gasp and stand, nearly stumbling as your hips hits the folding desk and pops it up. He catches your notebook as he rises too. He blocks your path as you grab your knitted bag and reach for the book in his hand.

“Pet, please, understand, I only want you to meet your true potential,” he holds it just out of your reach.

“You…” you touch your cheek and keep your eyes past him, on the door.

“I was carried away, I apologise, but you are… so beautiful and I see you are unappreciated for that, it strikes my heart,” he speaks gently and presents the notebook, “I will not keep you from going. I did not mean to frighten you. Take it, go off. I’m certain, as you mentioned, your roommates will be eager to have you back.”

You take the notebook and flip the cover over. You slide it into the bag slung from your shoulder and inhale. You can’t help a guilty wince. Your roommates are all too busy for you. Sometimes you’re certain they forget you even live there.

“Thank you, professor,” you cross your arms, “I’ll see you next week.”

“Of course, pet,” he uses that name again, “I put my number in your book and office hours. You’re more than welcome.”

He turns as you pass him, striding lithely with you to the door. You pause and face him again.

“I’m sorry,” you say, not certain why you’re apologising.

“No, please, I am,” he touches his chest, “I should know better. I can’t imagine you’d want your first kiss to be an old man like me.”

“First– I… how–?” you croak and cringe at your unwitting confession, “it is only… you’re my professor.”

“In another lifetime,” he nods with a frown, “I shall have to keep it as it has been. In here.” He taps his temple.

You blanch and your chest heaves in surprise. You're trembling in fear and shock. You should go but you feel like if you do, it would be an insult. To run off, just like that.

“I will have to keep you to those thoughts that keep me awake at night and those dreams that hound my sleep,” he declares, “and I will have to look elsewhere as I give my lectures, as hard as it should be.”

Your eyes sting, as if you could cry. How horrible you feel for him. That you never meant to inspire the feeling in him, yet never expected any to yearn for you so passionately. It is both startling and sweet.

But he is still your professor.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and reach behind you for the door, “I didn’t mean to…”

As you turn, he grabs the handle above your hand. He keeps you from pulling it and traps you against the wood. He presses his body to yours and inhales your scent.

“I just want to remember how you feel,” he hugs you with his other arm. He wiggles his hips and you feel the odd prodding against you. You quiver as he lets you go, opening the door as he parts, “good night, pet.”

You quickly move to flee, stepping back into him before scurrying through the door. Your chest tamps as you hold your breath and your soles scuff loudly in the empty hall. You stop at the corner and look back at him.

He watches you with a smirk, his hand resting on his belt, a lewd suggestion as he slowly closes the door.

[faramirsonofgondor]

Any queer man in fiction can’t have a healthy relationship. All they know is pining, divorce, cause the apocalypse, wear silly costume, fight they homo boyfriend, trauma, be disastrous, eat hot chip & lie.

[spideysenze]

don’t think i posted this here

[lokigodofmyheart]

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Day 1 - Sex Pollen (Tony Stark)

Day 2 - Restraining/ shadow play (Loki)

Day 3 - Threesome (Loki and Bucky)

Day 4 - Temperature play (Loki)

Day 5 - none

Day 6 - Roleplay (Severus Snape)

Day 7 - Toys/Public vibrator (Tony Stark)

Day 8 - Edging/orgasm denial (Bucky Barnes)

Day 9 - Pegging (Loki x Reader)

Day 10 - Blow job (Loki x Reader)

Day 11- 20 - none

Day 21 - Sex Pollen (Severus Snape x Reader)

Day 22 -

[guardianjameslight]

No trope hurts more than friends/brothers to enemies.

[peachyjinx]

Sharing an excerpt from "Lay Your Hands On Me", my Professor Loki multi-chapter fic coming out in 2025. I decided to finish writing it before posting, which sucks for me- I want to share it! So here's a little taste, I can't wait till I can share the whole thing with you guys 😘.

LMK if you want to be on the taglist for it! 💚

Loki swiftly walked through his foyer, and with a practiced flick, his keys spiraled through the air, landing with a clink on the small table in the corner. He had spent his whole drive home thinking about Charlotte. His guilt over their confrontation gnawed at him—a subtle sting beneath the surface—but it paled in comparison to the more insistent throbbing in his pants.

The house was silent around him, and he could almost hear the blood pulsing in his veins, each heartbeat a drumroll punctuating the thoughts of Charlotte that danced provocatively through his thoughts. 

He quickly made his way to his bedroom, unbuckling his pants as he walked into the shadows. The dim light offered a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could entertain these thoughts without the piercing clarity of daylight to cast judgment upon them. He laid down on his large bed with determination to relieve this pressure, this ache that was inside of him. 

She was smart, passionate, and fiery, and he liked it. While at first she irritated him, he now felt his whole body alight with lust. That fierce glint in her eyes sparked something primal within him, igniting a flame where only embers had smoldered for far too long. The way she had bent over and pointed her finger at him angrily had caused an involuntary shudder through him, and a twitch of arousal he couldn't suppress.

"Once," he whispered into the darkness, a promise or a plea, he wasn't certain, as he released his pulsing cock from its confines, the cool air of the room kissing his heated skin.

Would it be so bad if he slept with her? 

You can’t fuck the students. They explicitly told you that when you were in training. 

Loki chuckled to himself as his length hardened more while his large hand stroked it. Of course he'd be attracted to a student. This was simultaneously the best and worst thing that could happen. A temptation, a change in this monotonous life. The hunger within him stirred, a restless beast prowling the confines of his soul. It was desire, pure and unadulterated, mingled with the tang of danger. 

Oh this is bad, he thought to himself with a wicked grin, as he tightened his grip on his needy cock while he rhythmically pumped it.

--

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Professors Masterlist

Steve Rogers and Peter Parker

Late Bloomer 💚 2 💚 3

Thor and Bucky

Sweet Like Candy 💗 2 💗 3

Loki and Tony Stark

Like a Stone 💛 2 💛 3

Walter Marshall and destroyer!Chris

Know Your Place 💜 2 💜 3

Lloyd Hansen and Nick Fowler

Learn the Hard Way 🖤 2 🖤 3

Andy Barber and Cole Turner

Habits 🧡 2 🧡 3

Lee Bodecker and Ransom Drysdale

Words Like Honey 💛 2

Colin Shea and Rafe Cameron

Smile Like You Mean It ❤️ 2

[soraya-snape]

I don't know how many times I have heard a Marauders Stan tell me and other Snape Fans that we only like him because of Alan Rickman. Which is funny because they are the exact same people who only like the Marauders and also death eaters like Regulus because of their hot fancasts. And I don't even have a problem with it because yes Alan Rickman did play a part in me liking Snape and I believe you can like pretty much every fictional character because they are fictional. The difference is that I don't excuse Sev's behaviour because I think he looks good unlike these Marauders Stans.

[kmartkiddieisle]

Saw some absolute diva out there say

“cherik walked so lokius and sambucky could run”

And gabriell.ee22 if you’re out here I love you.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

“What about Evan Peters as Pietro Maximoff lol? I’d obviously vote him!” ——> precisely why he’s not on the poll

[five-miles-over]

Okay, that quickly escalated. Professor! Loki is starting to give me chills whenever he opens his mouth. I'm not sure whether to be amazed by his boldness in touching the reader or extremely frightened...

Either way, I'm hooked to this story. I know it's not right, I know this would be so wrong IRL but I am so easily immersed into the world of this story.

Please tell me that there is part 2 for Forbidden Lessons

Forbidden Lessons II

If you insist!

Warnings: age gap, abuse of power, unwanted touching, fingering, gaslighting. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

Your hands shake. You clasp them to keep still. It’s the first time you’ve been alone with Professor Laufeyson since… then.

You tried to avoid it. Tried to learn on your own but you can’t keep getting C’s. Despite your best effort, that’s all you can muster. You don’t know what makes you more nervous; your GPA or him.

The door clicks shut, making you flinch. He brushes by your chair, facing his desk, and the neat stacks of books next to an equally tidy pile of papers. He flutters through them and pulls out one in particular. He turns to you and holds it out.

“Thank you, Professor,” you say as you take it and slide to the edge of the chair.

“I didn’t expect you,” he replies as you flip past the cover page.

“I… I need help,” you admit as you eye the red ink in the margins. A lot of help, you think to yourself.

“I’m happy you came,” he says as he paces decisively away from his desk, rounding the chair as his gaze rests on you, “I was afraid… you wouldn’t.”

You chew your thumb. Stupid mistakes. All of them. You turn to the next page and shake your head.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he says as he nears the back of the chair and places his hands on your shoulders, “relax, pet.” He squeezes as he urges you back, “I’m here to help. To do whatever I can to please you.”

Your throat constricts. His hands travel towards your neck, framing the bottom of it as he bends to read over your shoulder. He drops a hand away and points at the opening of your second paragraph.

“What we must focus on is conciseness. Being straight to the point,” his hot breath glosses down your neck and settles in the weave of your sweater as he speakers into your ear, “being honest.”

“Professor,” your hand trembles and the paper loudly reflects the uncontrollable tremor.

“I am trying, pet, to resist,” he drags his fingertips up the sides of your neck, a shiver rolling down your spine, “but it is difficult.”

He draws away reluctantly. You watch him stride around, long steps as he tucks his hands in his pockets and exhales. He turns to stand in front of you. You can’t look at him, you won’t. You would melt at the very sight of those green eyes.

He lowers himself to his knees before you, gently slipping the paper from your grasp. He drops it to the floor and takes your hands in his.

“I know it is wrong but I have never wanted anything more than you,” he raises your knuckles to his lips, like a scene from an Austen romance, “I know you. I know how it feels to be ostracised, to be the odd one out, to be… alone.”

“Please,” you quiver, staring at his long pale fingers, how they seem to bask in the feel of just your hands.

He trails down your wrists and slips his hands beneath yours, stretching his grip around your thighs, tracing a pleat in your long skirt. Your lips part as your insides knot. Why? Because it is wrong or because you like it? It’s hard to tell.

“Professor,” you sit, frozen in indecision. Paralysed by your self-doubt.

“I only want to make you feel good, like you deserve,” he soothes as he follows the length of your skirts. 

The dry air of his office flows up your stocking as he drags his fingers up your leg. You squeak as he nudges your knees apart, crawling up your thigh. He follows the seam along your crotch and you latch onto the chair.

You shiver as his other hand cradles your chin, drawing you forward. His lips meet yours, adding to the spark deep inside you. You want to push him away and go. You want to run and hide. But your body won’t listen.

His tongue glides over your lips and pushes between them. He groans as he grips your chin firmly, kissing you deeply as he pokes along your stockings.

He breaks through the thin fabric and rubs along your panties. You quiver as he stokes the sensation coiling within. You give a pathetic mewl as you close your eyes tight, both stuck in the moment and clawing for an escape in your mind. 

He slips two fingers beneath your panties, delving between your folds, stirring a tingle that radiates up your stomach. You puff as he parts from your lips, pushing your head back as you cling to the chair. He flicks up and down, a spark pinging around your pelvis.

You squeak as you spread your legs wide. He moves closer, snaking his arm around you as he curls his fingers over your shoulder, leaning his head against your chest. He holds you there as he plays with your bud, rolling his fingers as he pants into the wool, his hot breath mingling with your sweat.

“Does that feel good, pet?” he slithers, slightly muffled.

“Mhmm,” you hum and heave.

“Yes? It doesn’t feel wrong, does it?”

You whine as his fingers speed up, the slickness easing his motion as ripples spread along your thighs.

“Does it?” he repeats.

“N-n-nooo,” you squeal and turn your chin up, back arching as you feel the tension twist.

“You can do it, pet, don’t be afraid,” he purrs as he presses firmly, shaking his whole hand as he toys with you, “cum for me, pet.”

You cry out, a strangled noise that scratches from your throat. Your shallow breaths have you babbling as you fall back, quaking as he guides you through the sharp rise and fall of your orgasm. You whimper and blink at the ceiling, vision speckled and head spinning.

“You’re even more beautiful when you cum,” he says as he slips his fingers from beneath your panties and frees his arm from beneath your skirt. You lift your head to look at him as he gets to his feet, pushing his fingers into his mouth He gives an enthusiastic hum as he pulls them out slowly, “you taste even better than you look.”

[illyanarasputinfan]

Exceptional X-Men #1 (2024) Marvel Comics

Variant Cover Artist: Scott Koblish

[aishiteruhayama]

Calling All TV Fans! Please Help Me Graduate 🎓📊

Calling all TV show and anime fans, please spare 2 minutes to fill out this survey about fandom communities on social media and help a girl (me) graduate 😭

all your answers will be anonymous!! thank you so much in advance! feel free to share this with anyone who loves TV shows and is active on social media. 😊

[star-lights-up]

NEW CHERIK FIC IDEA (ALTHOUGH I HAVE LIKE 3 WIPS 😭):

"Das nächste Mal musst du dich mehr anstrengen, um mich zu töten."

Next time, you'll have to try harder to kill me.

Erik thought he killed Shaw (one). He saw the coin go through his head (two). He saw the life leave his eyes (three). But it turns out that Shaw lives on – in Charles’s head.

Now Erik has to go on a multiversal quest to find the one person who can undo what he’s done – if she’ll help him, that is. And chances are, she won’t.

XXX

Shaw ends up being able to use Charles's body from time to time, due to the fact Charles was in his head when he was killed. And of course, Shaw's trying to kill the X-Men and Erik, and Charles is in pain.

Hank develops a serum, but it's not sustainable. Erik has heard rumors of a sorcerer called The Ancient One, who can teach people to heal themselves with the mystic arts. So begins Erik and Charles's multiversal quest, in which Erik learns to conjure portals, Charles has a panic attack in the middle of the TVA archives, they discover Charles's twin, and they make friends with the Agents of SHIELD and ghost rider.

One, two, three.

XXX

Would you guys be interested in reading this if I wrote it!? Let me know!!!

[loki-ioki]

Finally got around to finishing my Sada and Turo horses.

[anukulee]

Cuteness Overload and Interviews (Tom Hiddleston Audio Edition)

Are you ready because I think it’s time you all die over his cuteness, so hope you all enjoyed your lives,

So let us begin………

@muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @michelleleewise @november-rayne @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @evelyn-kingsley @chantsdemarins @ashereads @five-miles-over @sailorholly @simplyholl @the--sad--hatter @smolvenger @lokisgoodgirl @lokisbirdofhermes @jennyggggrrr @lokis-dark-queen @tomhidd @tomhiddlestonarchive @xorpsbane @acidcasualties @smolvenger @xorpsbane @lokisprettygirl @lokisprettygirl22 @lotsoflokilove23 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lokis-dark-queen @acidcasualties @lokischambermaid @rahne85 @villainousshakespeare @eleniblue @immyowndefender @ashereads @laufeyson-l0ki @lady-rose-moon @peacefulpianist