#professor fanfiction

[smolvenger]

In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Reader blurb)

Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.

Warnings: cursing, some work problems (I may have used some of my irl experiences in here, oops) Reader liking Romantasy books, but other than that, some hurt/comfort and lots of fluff!

A/N: I decided to leave it ambiguous if Reader is a student or not, so that is personally up to you. From @holdmytesseract's request for the birthday blurbs! Thanks for your patience!

Word Count: >2K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

If the past week was purgatory, then today was utter hell.

Everything in your life was driving you so busy, you felt both stasis and panic at once. You got so distracted that you would zone out on your phone closing and reopening the same apps for hours. Then at work, people were driving you up a wall. Because you were a good employee who had to get things done in the order and way they trained you or else…less got done. The impossibility of productivity crept on you. Minutes became hours. You had to argue with someone in a conversation that should have been four minutes but lasted eight because she would not shut up, kept repeating the same things over and over, would rarely let you speak and when you did, never replied or added onto your responses. On top of that, your body decided that the buttcrack dawn of morning when it was still dark was a good time to be awake. And impossible to drift back to sleep even when you took cold medicine. Which then made you exhausted at work.

Thank god for your professor boyfriend.

He was your light in the midst of all this. You had dated for some time, and even the sight of him putting on glasses in a nice suit as he headed off ofr work still made you tingly inside. He would leave you little gifts at your place- flower bouquets, cupcakes, and the like. You were at a point where you didn’t have to have romantic dates all the time. You were now just in his place. Just hanging out. Simple as that. 

You could be quiet and not interact every second. As cats parallel played you could just be in comfortable silence together. Especially when it came reading- for you had something of a silent book club. You both turned off your phones and would sit devouring book after book. 

He was a Literature professor, so it was in his nature. It seemed though sometimes he was never off the clock!  He even challenged you- it was one thing that drew you to daring him. He was smart enough- he respected you as an intelligent being in your own right but was able to have questions and discussions. It was the academia in him. It made you grow into wanting to be a better person for him…and he for you.

Though today, your stress, anxiety, and semi insomnia was creeping up on you. You sat on the brown chair and he on his sofa. There was the same book in your hands. He was already rubbing a finger over his lips, pressing his glasses close. Enchanted by the spell words made. It was a well-reviewed piece of literature that won awards and was featured on the official lists of esteemed journals. He recommended this title to you and you were both reading it. 

As you sat with your own copy that he leant you, you cracked open the stiff spine from it’s newness and began to read…

You were spacing out on the first chapter. It was dense, poetic, and beautiful….but you had no idea what the heck was going on.

After a few more pages, it was starting to get sad.

What was it with these books? And it was not cheery- Was high literature just sad things happening like people having affairs on their wives or committing abuse or doing drugs or going to war or just being awful with no repercussions?

With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a different book- an escapist, spicy romantasy that all the girls on social media were losing their minds over. You replaced the high literature book, setting it down quietly, and opened it. Tom was so engrossed in the book he didn’t notice. You didn’t want him to notice.

You found this time you were understanding the words in front of you. And you found yourself drawn. Was it the best piece of literature to be studied in a professors class in the future? Hell no. But you were here for a good time, not a long time. And not to study human nature deeply, but to be in a different world, where you had a different name, a different look, and different problems, but far more magical and exciting than everything crashing down in your dull, grey reality. One where your clothes were beautiful with corsets and fine fabric instead of just jeans. One where you would have a sword with a name then a smartphone that sucked all of your free time. One where you could be a princess, a queen, an assassin, a fae lady, a vampire, a pirate, a goddess, a duchess… anything other than plain old you in a plain old life at a plain old job.

Tom looked up. He then eyed over your cover and back at you.

You looked up at him and grimaced. Then you shoved the book back into your bag.

“Please! Don’t judge me!” you cried.

“Why would I judge you?” he asked.

You gestured over to the book in his hands.

“I’m reading this silly trash book and you have all of your fine literature!” you cried.

He set his own copy down, but his blue eyes softened.

“My dear…Is something up?” he asked.

He knew you well enough he could tell the signs.

“Yes, my day was hell! It was this and this and this and…I try to handle it but..I’m overwhelmed so I can’t…I really can’t…I’m not even smart enough to read this book, because I try and try but I just can’t understand this stuff and I can’t get into it, like you…I’m an idiot…”

You burst into tears, and he came over, hugging and kissing your head in little pecks. 

“No…darling, no…” he murmured.

You leaned into his arms. You found yourself vneting and complaining the suffering long inside you.

“I know…I’m a mess…” you sobbed out. “And there was a lady at work who’s a bitch, and my job is so hard, and I can’t sleep at night…it’s just…I wish I could be smarter, nicer, better for you Tom, but…”

“How do you take tea?” he asked.

Looking up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve and answered him.

He made it for you the way you liked. It was the prettiest mug- white with bluebell flowers painted on it.  And returned with it. You sipped at it, it was perfect in it’s flavor and so warm, you felt it melt inside you. You placed both hands around it- science said it was like receiving a hug. Feeling the warmth inside and outside as you looked up at him. 

He scooted himself to be close, a gentle smile on his face and one of his large, beautiful hands rubbing your forearm in comfort.

“I know I’m a mess.” you said.

“I like you as a mess.”

You began to blink at him.

“No, I…but I’m…I’m trying, but I just…I know I complain and I read trashy books and I call people bitches and all that, you can say it, Tom. It’s the truth,” you replied.

“Set your drink down,” he requested.

You complied.

He cupped your face. A gasp aired itself in your throat. 

“My dear, you are perfect as you are. A mess, broken, crying…and I want nothing else than to be with you.” he confessed.

You nearly dropped your jaw.

“That’s…a…you’re saying that…”

“Well…I…yes, I never thought I’d run into someone like you, who’d change everything. Why should I care if you feel upset sometimes like every human being  or what you read to make you happy or that things aren’t always wonderful…I…I love you….there, I said it.”

Love. The little word that changed everything. And it was the first time he said it. It was…unspoken. Something you both felt for the long months you dated, but never confirmed. And here it was, materialized and as present as the furniture and mugs and books, for it was just as real.

“I love you too, Tom.”

You embraced him tight, and he embraced back. He then pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing hands.

He then let go, looking down at your mug.

“Here…your tea will get cold…” he said, offering the drink back to you.

“And…my book….” you murmured.

“Oh, I have no problems with you reading it with me! If it’s that good, I’ll make you another cup of tea and get us some biscuits as well! Then you must tell me all about it!” He gave a little laugh. “Who knows, I may even try it myself someday!”

Smiling with him, you gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then, you settled into cuddling him, sipping your tea and enjoying both of your books in a moment of pure bliss.

[wandering-writers-beware]

New fic!

Billy made a mistake, but will try to make up for it. This is new and he really likes Alan, so much so he doesn’t say no to the idea of staying over while he recovers.

Will they get over the past? Or will it end in tears and lost chances?

[mrshowlettsgarden]

Cherry Kisses - Logan Howlett: the one where he gets distracted from your ranting

─➭ pairing: Logan Howlett x professor!fem!reader

─➭ content warning: fluff, make out session, god bless this hunk of a man

─➭ take a walk in the greenhouse (master list)

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

Logan lets out a frustrated groan as he stands out on the balcony leading to the back of the mansion. “These damn shitass kids…,” he sighs aggressively as he pulls out a cigar and begins to light it.

He’s been teaching history to the students for years now and he still can’t get used to teaching the students. He doesn’t know how Charles, Storm, and you do it so easily - near effortlessly - and you have been teaching longer than him despite the fact he’s been living for almost 200 fucking years.

He lets out a puff from the cigar and blows it out to the air above him as he basks in the quietness of the outside. Everyone left for the evening since it’s a Friday night but Logan chooses peace and silence.

And peace and quiet is what it is now. But there’s one more thing he needs in his arms and it’s-

“What has Charles told you about smoking here, my love?”

Ah…the only woman in the damned world that has kept him sane is here. You’re always there when he needs you the most.

His wife…

Logan turned around to find you standing tall and all in your glory. You have your arms crossed over your chest with your hip popped out and a faux serious look on your face.

“Seriously, Lo. After 10 years, you still haven’t broken the habit. Even just for a couple of hours during the day,” you exaggerate with a laugh.

Logan has a soft smile on his face as he listens to you rant about his smoking habit as he continues to take puffs out of the cigar. He was supposed to break the addiction a long time ago but he stopped listening to you rant once his eyes fell to your glossy lips.

Wonder what flavor it is…

“You also still leave ashes along the railing and it leaves burn marks.”

You’re still ranting with no true seriousness behind it but it still doesn’t hurt to keep trying to talk him out of smoking. Charles has threatened Logan that he’ll turn him into a six year old girl for smoking while he was using Cerebro. As you were about to go in that particular rant your words were caught in your throat when you noticed him stalking towards you with a curious but dazed look on his face.

You huff, “Logan, are you even trying to listen to - mph!”

Asshole, cut you off with a kiss but who are you to break that kiss? What kind of loving wife would you be and not enjoy the kiss?

You feel one of his hands cup your jaw to keep you close with his free muscled arm wrapped around your waist. You moan into his mouth when he pulls you tighter in his embrace. Your hands clutch his gray flannel as you try to ground yourself but he makes it so hard to do so, especially when he nearly whimpers in your mouth.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, Logan is the first to pull away still holding you firm against his body. You're both softly panting into each other's mouths trying to catch your breath.

“Wha-what was that for?” you breathlessly giggle, “Are you trying to shut me up?”

“Cherry,” he mumbles a whisper against your lips, “Fuck - your lips taste like cherry, baby.”

“Oh…,” you mumble as he continues to barely touch your lips with his. You feel an ache between your legs and you want more from his teasing. “I-I got it a couple days ago… You like it?”

He answers you with a softer kiss followed by another one and another then one more.

“I love it, baby,” a kiss.

“Fuck, gimme more, yeah?”, another kiss.

“My pretty wife…”

And another kiss…

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

[darealsaltysam]

hey tumblr. you should read my xmen fic. the second chapter just came out. this image tells you all you need to know about the plot. thanks <3

[supalcina-3]

Like she never left 🙇🏾‍♀️😻

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[luvs4matt]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑!𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃 𝐏!𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 .𝟎𝟎𝟏

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

riding him while he sucks your tits

in the car

he is big big

fucking you from behind

lickin’ you up

your nipples in his mouth

you’re on top while making out

he had enough of your shit and made you become louder than you’ve ever been

fingering

stroking his dick

playing with your pussy

fucking you from behind pt.2

a/n - THIS IS A LEGAL AGE GAP!!! NOT ILLEGAL!!! PROFESSOR!SPENCER IS 38 WHILE READER IS EARLY-MID 20’S!!!

[jmwdoesthings]

(staff room, afternoon)

McGonagall: ... Why does Filius keep looking at you in such a strange manner, Severus?

Snape: (sipping coffee whilst marking) I don't know what you mean.

McGonagall: Why, he keeps glancing at you, as though he's afraid you're about to drop dead any moment.

Snape:

Snape: ...I may or may not have informed Filius about the function of the liver and lungs yesterday evening.

McGonagall:

McGonagall: ...I don't see how that-

Snape: I told him that my organs must be practically decomposed from myself breathing in toxic fumes and testing potions since an adolescent. Then, of course, as Potion's Master. I suspect that from that moment onwards, Filius wholeheartedly believes that I am mortally ill.

McGonagall:

Snape: What? Did you really think repeatedly making poisons and draughts of living death isn't going to have consequences on my health?

Snape: *coughs loudly*

Flitwick: (watery sniffling from behind piles of marking at the other table)

Snape: *smirks*

McGonagall:

McGonagall: You are despicable.

Snape: I am completely and utterly hilarious, Minerva.

[starkeysprincess]

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

[smolvenger]

Hot for Teacher (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Some thirsty comments and cursing, but no smut. Established relationship and lots of fluffy moments. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me. Reader not being a student and being an Adult Adult (tm). A big fancy ball because I decided not some hum drum party was gonna do. (I'm the writer, I can do what I want). I rip off YouTube comments and Ana Huang and stuff I see on Tiktok and Instagram.

A/N: For @holdmytesseract's request! I am sorry this took a while due to stuff happening, but here it is!!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You always visited the campus coffee shop on Mondays at 10 am to overhear students being thirsty for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at their comments. They were leaving their English Literature Survey class. Only they weren’t discussing books.  

“Sooo nice of him to lower the word count for the essay, he knows it’s a lot.”

“Holy crap, did you see how tight his shirt was today? I could practically see his titties.”

“He needs to quote Shakespeare again. I think I’m developing a kink.”

“If I caught my girl in bed with Professor Hiddleston, I’d tuck him in.”

“If I was at the club and Professor Hiddleston was hitting on my girl, I’d start to cry…because he didn’t choose me.”

“I’m a hardcore lesbian, but Professor Hiddleston is on my cheat card.”

“I’m a hardcore asexual, but Professor Hiddleston is so hot that if I had to get pregnant I’d want him to do the honors.”

You sipped up your drink, sitting in a far corner. Smiling bright as you heard them. Stifling a laugh so hard you could feel your drink always threatened to snort out of your nose. You would cup your face, ensuring they didn’t take note of you. Even get out the notes app on your phone to type them down. Not that you’d ever show him. 

He was their hot Professor. But to you, he was just Tom.

Just Tom. A boyfriend who cared for you respected you, and listened to you. Who did the bare minimum and so much more. They didn’t know his flaws, living with each other's smells and body odors and functions and insecurities. And the little, beautiful moments that made you all the more in love with him. How you would both go to bookstores and geek out after certain works, make a mess in the kitchen trying a new recipe, or stay in your pajamas until 1 pm watching something on the TV. Did they know how loud he snored at night? Or how sensitive his neck was? Or that he was fidgety if he sat too long? 

Then one of them said “His girlfriend is one lucky ass bitch. I wonder what she’s like?”

“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!” one asked.

They all shot up like meerkats with big smiles.

You froze, only staring quietly at your drink. 

Tom didn’t talk about you in class. Nothing. Nada. Goose eggs.  They didn't know you existed.

So far you were sure they were not little homewreckers- not successfully, at least. You trusted Tom and he trusted you and his students respected his boundaries. But he blocked them on social media so they wouldn’t dig anything about him. Tom was a private person and he wanted that to be respected by his students. 

When you both met to hang out and make dinner later that evening- his special Spaghetti bolognese recipe, he gave you a hug and kiss on your head.

“Oh, you missed a spot!” you teased.

His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses.

“Oh- uh,” he voiced out.

You dived in to kiss him on the lips, his beard scratching your chin.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Oh, just fine. Your students were…wondering about me today. I saw them at the shop.”

“They didn’t recognize you?”

“No- they don’t know what I look like. Or about me, period…we’ve kept it that way…”

Both of you got into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing the pasta and sauce. It smelled of garlic, onion, and olive oil, making your stomach rumble. How easily smelling that in a kitchen could solve all of your problems!

He smiled at you. Then, as the pasta was set to boil in the pot, he turned to you. His sleeves rolled up (making you giddy inside) and his face was a little flushed from the heat of the steam from cooking.

“My angel, I don’t want to keep you in hiding- and you shouldn’t.”

“Tom, what do you mean?” you asked. You stirred the sauce, then tapped the spoon and set it on a jar for attempted cleanliness.

 I love you. And this is a part of my life…would you like to meet them? I promise you, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them!” 

He went up to hug you from behind and you watched the simmering food.

You paused, taking in a breath. What were you afraid of? Were you ashamed of Tom or being with him? No, not a bit.

 You turned around to face him.

“They’re college kids. They’re basically puppies…I think I’d like to meet them.” you agreed

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

You both decided what event it should be that you would meet them. There were events called Bookish Balls that were all the rage now. It was a prom for adults. Proms where everyone dressed like fantasy characters and showed off costumes and even cosplays. It was everything from complex armor to a dress with some elf ears on. 

You knew he had a Shakespearean-era outfit from a play he did that he kept you just had to find the right look. It would be more exciting and less creepy then if you jumped on them at the mall like a pair of stalkers. 

And the ball looked like fun.

You and Tom both arrived. He was in his Shakespearean garb and crown. You had your own outfit- you adored it. You couldn’t help but look at each large mirror you walked by as you walked down the dim hallways with carpeted floors.

All the students were talking about it- tickets were 60 percent off for students. Since they were all raving about these hot new fantasy books between their required reading of Dickens. They all rattled their iced coffees like maracas and gossiped and shared pics of their outfits on their phones every day before class according to Tom. Most of them would all be there.

Little did they know their Professor was going to be there, as well as his girlfriend.

You both arrived at the fine, fancy hotel. Tom was dressed in his leather doublet and pants with a large cape and a grand crown. Ever the king. You had splurged on the fancy outfit you wanted badly- and you felt as if you were a heroine in a story as you walked through.

“You look stunning- they’re going to adore you,” Tom assured you.

You hoped so. If they met you and humiliated you in some way tonight or after, you would move to Antarctica and learn to speak penguin. 

Taking his arm and feeling like royalty, you both went down the fine large building. You saw people gathered. There were some stage lights and the large gala room had trees with flowers everywhere as well as thrones, little game booths photo booths, and a banquet. And, of course, a packed dance floor. A live band played. Many people wore crowns and wings and elf ears and were dancing away with zeal. Women twirled their ballgown skirts with smiles so big it lit them up. Many flicked their capes dramatically or wrapped around them like blankets. There were fairy lights and glitter everywhere and there were photo ops and even a costume contest. It was in full sway.

 Including a crowd that included Tom’s students. They jumped up in time to the song, breathlessly singing along to every word.

Tom held out your hand, both of you feeling like the king and queen looking over their jubilant subjects. You both walked down. Hoping your outfit looked as nice on you as you hoped it would.

The song was entering its last chorus. The student's backs were turned and their capes and wings were bouncing as they danced. They hadn’t noticed you yet.

He went to his group of students and cleared his throat. At once they turned their heads.

They looked at him and then you and their jaws dropped.

Tom said.“hello, here is  Y/N, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He then leaned you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

All of their eyes bugged out of their skulls and jaws dropped like broken nutcrackers among them.

You were worried the girls in the group would glare at you like they were going to rip out your stomach intestines.

But instead, all of them collapsed into a collective “AAaaaaawwwwwww, hello!” and “What?! WHAT?!” Their eyes flitted toward Tom in tight leather (who wouldn’t?) and you in your presence. 

You went up like in any social situation. You gave them a smile- warm, genuine, polite, and friendly.

“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you- I heard all about you guys!”

You shook their hands. You got to meet them and learn names- Kelly, Hailey, Jessie, Emily, Daniel, Isaiah, Chase, Cameron, Kat, Miranda, Edgar, and so many more your head spun. But you eventually got it with practice.

But they let you dance with them. Be relaxed and have fun. It moved from a band to a playlist of all the classic dance songs. The band blasted Single Ladies and the girls invited you, dragging you in. You tried to copy the moves from the music video, but couldn’t quite and they all burst into laughter anyway.

It then slowed down- it was a ballad, the Cody Fry song about falling in love being like a symphony.

“Well…could I have a dance with my lady?” Tom asked, holding out his hand.

They gasped and looked at you.

“Oh, what a gentleman! I’d be delighted!” you said, accepting his hand.

They let you and Tom have a slow dance- how handsome he looked in the light, beaming at you. They smiled as if they were watching a rom-com at the end. There were no angry glares- at most, some looked a little reflective and sad. But none dared interrupt the moment with you and Tom.

Would they hate you after seeing the affection?

If so, they shut their mouths and minded their beeswax about it.

There were loads of pictures- you were willing to take some (they were seeing you as the surrogate Adult Adult more than their adults) and they included you in some, including some selfies.

Tom excused himself and returned with even brought you a little plate of food. a plate full of little sandwiches, cheeses, and fruits. You both rested your feet and shared some, feeling their eyes on you. For dessert, there were some gooey brownies that melted in your mouth. Tom eagerly grabbed some, his large hands packing as many brownies as he could. 

But you realized his beard had streaks of chocolate brownies on it, you burst into laughter and you heard some giggling from the students too.

“Oh, let me take care of that!” you offered.

You got out a handkerchief and wiped it off of him. You definitely heard “awwwws” in the distance. Looking at it, his beard was now clean.

“There you go! But dashing as always!” you said.

He held your hand and kissed it. The “AWWWWWS” got louder in the back and you both had to suppress your laughter.

Rejoining the students, you saw them less as little judges or would-be homewreckers. You got to talk to them. Maybe you judged them harshly- you remembered being in college when you were that young too. Of course, they grumbled about the coursework sometimes and you gave your own insight. 

“Oh- you’re seriously reading Persuasion? Oh, just wait! Austen takes some time to get used to when you read her stuff- read them slowly and you will catch onto what’s happening! The yearning in that one is beautiful” you encouraged a distraught Hailey. 

You even discussed what fantasy books they were into and got some more recommendations for your ever-growing TBR. And at the end, every last person in the crowd gathered and danced. You and Tom joined the students with big grins and aching feet, but you wouldn’t stop until that last song ended its phrase. No drama. No pettiness. And no hiding. No fear. Just people at a party. Young and happy and alive.

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

The other morning, you were back at the coffee shop. Waiting on them. Soon enough, they arrived in their band, though you remained in the corner. 

“I couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend!” Daniel gasped.

“Really?! I’m not! A man that fine can have his pick,” Kelly commented.

They began to all get iced coffees and gather around.

“She is gorgeous- didn’t you see her at that ball!? And she’s super nice!”

“Yeah…I want them to be happy and he seems so happy-”

“Oh, he is cheesing after her- you saw how he smiled?! And how he got the plate for her? Like, he’s a walking green flag!”

‘She’s so lucky!

“Listen, I am glad they’re happy…I just wish it were me…”

They all sighed and agreed,. You waited for that whole vibe of that phrase to blow away.

Then, quietly you walked over.

“Hello everyone,” you said.

They gasped and turned heads.

“YN! YN, hi!” one boy, what was his name- oh yes, Cameron!-said.

“Oh, I just wanted to pop by,” you added.

Then, Emily stood up. She got out a chair from one table and moved it over to where everyone sat .

“Do you have anywhere to be? You can…you can join us! You’re welcome to!”

You smiled at them and took a seat.

[ellecdc]

wait professor remus…… elle you opened the Gates

hehehehehe.... 😈 big shout out to @maladaptiveescapism for daydreaming and yapping about this with me - some of the 'ratings' are courtesy of her!

Professor!Remus Lupin x Professor!reader: 5/5 chilli peppers [1.7k words]

CW: fem!reader, flirty/sexual comments made about both professors by students [indirectly], suggestive content but nothing explicit and SFW

You were sitting cross legged on Remus’ desk; heels discarded on the floor as you used one hand to scroll through your phone whilst the other brought your glass of wine to your lips. 

Remus probably shouldn’t think you look adorable, but Remus thought you looked adorable.

You hummed excitedly as you quickly swallowed your sip and pointed at your phone. “Listen to this one!” You enthused, clearing your throat and sitting up straighter as though you were about to deliver one of your lectures. “Professor Lupin should be banned from wearing those khaki slacks - you know the ones - how can anyone pay attention to the migration of Germanic peoples through Western Europe when that perfect arse is *right there*?” 

Remus’ face felt like it was probably five shades darker on account of his furious blush as he topped up his own glass of wine and let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan.

“They’re just trousers!” 

“Oh but they are so not.” You drawled salaciously, smirking into your glass. 

“Knock it off, you minx.”

“Shan’t.” You replied as you squinted at your phone again. “Oh! This one’s good: when he starts rolling up his sleeves and then leans on the desk, it’s suddenly worth waking up at seven AM for a morning class.”

“Stop-”

“And someone responded with ‘I didn't believe in god when I was forced to take an eight AM lecture, but I did believe in god when she blessed us with Professor Lupin as an apology’. You’re a hit, Lupin.” 

“I’m horrified.”

“You’re an icon.”

“Did these student’s even learn anything in my classes?” Remus let out with a laugh.

“Sure.” You agreed quickly. “This one says you guys spoke about Freud?”

“I- what?” Remus asked, wondering when the hell Freud came up during his Early Medieval Europe course. 

“‘We were discussing Freud and made a daddy joke. Professor Daddy.’” 

“Alright.” Remus gruffed as repositioned himself on the loveseat in the office. “That’s enough out of you.”

“Hey,” You placated, raising your hands - still holding your phone and a glass of wine - in mock surrender, “I’m just the messenger.”

“What is this site called again?” He asked as he pulled out his own phone.

“Rate my professor. Oh, this one’s boring.”

“What’s it say?” He asked with a snort.

“Says you’re a harsh grader but fair, and you allow people to resubmit their assignments to bring their grades up.”

“Finally, an accurate and reasonable review.”

“All in all, you’ve gotten 5/5 chilli peppers.” You sing-songed, looking up and smirking at him. “My my; do office hours run long, Professor Lupin?” 

Remus swallowed thickly and ignored the subtle tightening of his pants. “You think mine are bad?” 

“No, I think yours are great.” You corrected. 

Remus hummed as he smirked at you before reading from his screen. “Took the class because it was the only one available and now I’m wondering if I can retake it because this might be the hottest woman I have ever seen. BRB booking an appointment to change my major.”

“No way!” You squealed with laughter; Remus’ smile grew exponentially as a result.

“Did Plato come up this semester?” He asked you then; you nodded your head yes. “I don’t know why she thinks I can focus on platonic ideals of things when she is in the room? Platonic ideal of hot.”

“Oh my god!” 

“This one simply reads ‘someone call Victoria’s Secret. One of their angels is posing as a university professor.”

You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling at that one.

“Looks like you’ve got 5/5 chilli peppers too, Professor.” He quipped.

“That’s just because I’m only one of two Professors at this university under 50 years old.” You chuckled, Remus cocking an unimpressed brow in response.

“Wouldn’t that be my excuse too?”

You quickly hummed in the negative.

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uhm…because you’re hot, Remus.” 

“Is that so?”

“That is my professional, academic opinion, yes.” You agreed resolutely. 

“I think there might be some flaws in your assessment, dove.” 

“Is that so?” You drawled slowly, parroting his earlier comment earning you a challenging hum of affirmation.

Remus watched your eyes narrow slightly before you lifted your phone back up.

“You did receive one ⅘ rating.” You commented solemnly.

“Bastard.” Remus scoffed with no real heat, running his tongue along his teeth as you repositioned yourself on his desk; shifting closer to the edge and leaning over your own legs as though trying to subconsciously inch closer to Remus. “I hope they failed my course.” 

You let out a roaring laugh, throwing your head back into it and exposing the length of your neck. 

“They said,” you continued loudly once you collected yourself as though scolding him for having interrupted you, “minus one chilli because I’m pretty sure he’s shagging that other hot professor in the department.”

“Now why would they think that?” He asked innocently, though he knew exactly why they would think that. 

The two of you were new to the university faculty this year; you were close in age, by far the youngest professors on the payroll, and both part of the history department. The two of you had picked up a quasi-antagonistic yet relatively genial relationship; rumours that the department would be letting go of one professor at the end of the school year what with the two of you being the lowest in terms of seniority didn’t bode well, resulting in a slight rivalry that saw no real animosity. 

But regardless of the semi-competitive nature of your relationship, the two of you were the youngest professors at the school, meaning you weren’t always taken very seriously and were often each other’s only allies. 

This meant the two of you became fast frenemies. 

It started in the first term when he went to reserve a book for the class, only to find you had put it on hold first. 

“Oh? Did you need this book, Lupin? Sorry about that….you’ll have to be faster next time.” You’d offered him with nothing more than a wink, leaving him standing there, gaping in your office as you walked away. 

Then it turned into him letting himself into the lecture room 26 minutes past the hour whilst your class was finishing up even though your class only finished 25 minutes past the hour and his class didn’t start until 35 minutes past the hour, just so he could enjoy the way your nose scrunched up in frustration as your students started giggling through your concluding remarks. 

You showed up to one of his lectures once - he’d somehow missed you sneaking in and taking a seat in the back row - when you began volleying questions in an attempt to fluster him. You’d teased him once about his need for structure and scripts for his classes, and you’d gone to prove him right by asking him hard hitting questions slightly beyond the scope of this particular class that he was not prepared to have to answer. The class ended with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up as he scowled at you and you smiled sweetly at him. 

Once he had fucked around with your powerpoint lecture without your knowledge, so as you opened up the first slide, everyone read: blimey, sorry to everyone stuck with Professor Y/N for the next hour or so. You really ought to try one of Professor Lupin’s courses instead - they’re way better!

You sticky-noted his entire office for that one. 

Friendly and not so friendly comments were passed in the corridors as the two of you passed one another, some heard by students and others not. Remus had guest lectured for a course of yours and you had offered a talk in one of his. 

Ultimately, the school had seen the two of you interacting. Remus probably should have been more mindful of the way his gaze often lingered on you. 

But it couldn’t be helped, really. You were maddeningly intelligent, engaging in the way you spoke in an academic sense and a personal sense, you were funny and quick, and fuck him if you weren’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

So yeah, he knew exactly where those rumours had come from. He’d probably been caught a few too many times ogling you. 

Much like he was being caught ogling you now, though you were the only one present to catch him in his faux pas.

Your eyes were glassy from the amount of wine the two of you had shared to celebrate the official end of exam season, the top few buttons of your blouse seem to have come undone at some point in the evening exposing a beautiful expanse of skin, if you asked Remus. He noticed you swallow thickly as your legs fell over the edge of the desk, bare feet dangling well above the carpeted floor as you watched him watch you. 

“Beats me.” You murmured in response to his question.

“We’ve been drinking.” He commented, seemingly apropos of nothing.

“We have.”

“And we’re technically at work.” He continued.

“We are.” 

“One of us could be getting let go.”

“We could.” You agreed again. 

The two of you stared at one another as you teetered this liminal space between friendly and decidedly not, between professional and inappropriate, between surrendering and resisting.

And then the corner of your mouth turned up in a smirk.

“Fuck it.” Remus let out with an exhale, and in two quick strides he was standing between your legs, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you soundly as you hummed into the kiss and fisted the back of his shirt with an iron grip.

He couldn’t believe he’d waited an entire academic year to do this. 

[bloodxbat]

Heyyy, could you do an NSFW fic with Spencer where it���s best friends to lovers and they’re roommates and maybe it’s a really hot day and readers barely wearing anything and Spencer can’t control himself etc 🫶🫶

Hey Anon! absolutely I can!! I had so much fun writing this, I've not written a fan fiction in so long so I hope this is ok!!

My requests and taglist are open so feel free to send me a wee message!!

Hope you enjoy the fic :))

Can’t Control Myself

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut!!! 18+, MDNI, P IN V sex, unprotected, creampie, oral (fem), best friends to lovers, swearing! Dom Spence, Praise, Marking kink, all the good stuff 

Reblogs help me stay motivated to keep writing fics! :))

Taglist: @writing-wh0re Message to be added 

Word Count: 2,649

Prompt(s) used: none

Summary: You and Spencer have been best friends for 3 years, you’ve lived together for almost 2 now. Spencer has always had a ‘’thing’’ for you but has always been way too shy to admit it. On a particularly hot day he loses control of himself over the clothes (or lack thereof) you’re wearing. 

Masterlist

The apartment you and Spencer shared was small, which made this weather even more unbearable. Books piling up, almost touching the ceiling keeping in all the heat, stopping cold fresh air from coming in. Any outfit you put on was just sticking to your skin in an instant. The fabrics attach themselves as if they were part of your skin. You huff out a frustrated sigh as you peel off yet another outfit that suffocated you in this heat. 

Throwing your wardrobe all over your room trying to find the loosest outfit you owned you finally found something. ‘Please let this one help, please’ you thought to yourself as you pulled on the clothes. 

You’d found a black short-sleeved crop top, so short that it barely covered your tits when you lifted your arms, and a pair of loose fabric shorts that showed off the underside of your ass accenting its curves under them. A sigh escapes your lips, you sway your hips and air brushes itself up your skin giving temporary relief from the heat. 

Finally having found your outfit you make your way out your room and down the small hall leading to the living room/kitchen to grab a cup of ice cold water. Spencer was sitting on the brown leather couch that took up the centre of the room in front of the TV, which was not switched on of course as Spencer would never ‘’waste his free time watching that thing’’. You chuckled to yourself as you noticed he was reading The Odyssey for the hundredth time it felt. 

Brushing your hand over his shoulders you greet him 

‘’Hey Spence’’ you smile walking into the kitchen area.

Spencer looks up from his book feeling your slight friendly touch, turning round to see you in the kitchen. You were stretching up on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard where the glasses were kept. His eyes went wide, your crop top and short had rode up your body at the movement. Exposing your skin, your curves, your perfection. He had never seen so much of you before. 

‘’H-hi Y/N’’ he manages to stutter out, clearing his throat.

‘’The Odyssey again Spence?’’ You ask not looking at him as you grab ice from the freezer, bending over in front of him. 

Was this a dream, his eyes didn’t leave you, devouring your body. His mouth was salivating, he wanted too much to know how you tasted, how you felt. He hadn’t even processed your question before you were walking over to him, glass in hand waving in front of his eyes.

‘’Earth to Spencer’’ You chuckle

‘’S-sorry I lost track- wh-what did you uhm whatdidyousay?’’

‘’I asked if you were seriously reading The Odyssey again? Does it not bore you?’’

‘’Yes i’m reading it again and no of course it doesn’t bore me, this is one of the greatest classics of all time!’’

You chuckle at his passion for the book. Taking a seat next to him, taking the book out his hands, your fingers brushing his skin slightly, such a small gesture but enough that his vision was turning blurry and his mind racing. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin so you looked up at him. 

Spencer was wearing a white loose fitting linen shirt, the top button undone exposing the skin of his chest to you, and brown hemp trousers. Even in this heat he still tries his best to look professional, even from the comfort of his own apartment.

‘’Everything ok Spencer?’’ Your voice filled with genuine concern, looking at your friend he doesn’t seem quite himself. He is normally hyper focused, aware of every surroundings, given the nature of his job, it's not paranoia it's just…him, but now he seems distracted.

‘’I-’’ Spencer licks his lips trying to think of the words, the right words to tell you how he really feels. How all these years he has found you the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. How he’s up late at night thinking about you, what he could do to you, how he could make you scream his name. How you would feel pinned below him. He could feel himself begin to grow at the thought, your touch bringing him out of his thoughts. 

You placed your hand on his arm, stroking your thumb along his skin. Waiting patiently for him to answer. His deep brown eyes caught yours, god his eyes were beautiful, you could stare into them all day. You felt strange thinking of your friend this way but it also felt so right. You couldn’t deny that Spencer Reid wasn’t attractive, he wasn’t named ‘pretty boy’ for nothing because he certainly was that. 

‘’You’re driving me crazy’’ Spencer says suddenly, his voice low and raspy.

‘’W-what?’’ your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden boldness.

‘’You heard me pretty girl’’ his eyes stare holes into yours with burning passion ‘’You’re driving me. Crazy’’ he emphasises the last word. 

Spencer shuffles closer to you, grabbing your hand and taking it off its place on his arm. The cool air touching your palm from where his warm skin used to be moments before. Your eyes never leave his, as you watch him lick his lips once more. 

‘’Wearing this outfit, practically naked…fuck’’ he groans

Spencer rarely swears in fact you've only ever heard him swear when he clumsily bumps his head off of a shelf. My god it was hot, those types of words just rolling off his tongue.

‘’It’s getting harder to control myself around you Y/N, ever since I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. 3 years, for 3 long years i’ve not stopped thinking about you, thinking how you would feel, how you would-’ he paused letting his eyes roam over you ‘how you would taste’’

His words cause a heat to form in between your legs, a wetness forming on your shorts. It was only then you notice the bulge appearing in Spencer's trousers, the zip practically about to burst up against him. 

‘’Why don’t you come and find out’’ You don’t know where this bold side of you came from but the way it turned the expression on Spencer's face to complete lust, his eyes growing darker from your words. You hope that the image burned itself into your eyes so you would never forget it. 

Without hesitation his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, his lips were so smooth and inviting, they felt so familiar to you, like they were meant to be on yours and only yours. You could feel his tongue graze your bottom lip slightly wanting more you open your mouth inviting him in. Your tongues dance at first, softly brushing over each other, he tasted of coffee, humming against him at the taste. The kiss became more hungry, tongues battling for dominance which Spencer of course won. 

He pushed you down so you were beneath him on the couch, his hands grazing up your sides causing you to shiver. His hands reached your breasts that lay under your shirt, his fingers found their way to your hard nipples, pinching them softly. Your back arched up into him as you moaned softly at the sensation. You could feel him pulse onto you through his trousers at your noises. 

‘’That feel good?’’ he smirks, his lips travelling down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking and biting. 

‘’Mhmm, p-please spence’’ you hand made its way into his golden brown curly hair that stuck to the nape of his neck from sweat, tugging slightly as he continued to kiss down your neck. Ripping your shirt off of you to get a better look at your body beneath him.

‘’Fuck’’ he groaned, his eyes taking in every inch of your exposed skin. ‘’So fucking beautiful why didn’t I confess sooner’’ 

Before you could say anything his lips are back on you, attacking your skin sucking every inch he could find leaving red marks behind him. 

‘’S-spence’’ You gasp at all the marks

‘’Shh, I’m marking you as mine, d’you understand me? Everyones gonna know who you belong too’’

His words were like sex itself to your ears, the very thought of everyone being able to see that he had his way with you causing a pool to form soaking your thighs. Your fingers made their way to his chest, undoing the buttons on his shirt pushing the material off his shoulders. His chest was so smooth and toned, your eyes roamed over the sight in front of you causing Spencer to smirk. 

‘’Like what you see?’’ he says

All you can do is nod, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, then looking into his lust filled eyes. 

‘’Good- because it’s all yours angel’’ 

It didn’t take long before the rest of your clothes were discarded on the floor. Both of you tangled in a hot mess on the couch skin sticking to the leather beneath. Spencer started to train his kisses along your chest. Teasing your already hard nipples with his tongue, soft moans spilling out your mouth. He continues his way down further, nestling his head between your thighs, wrapping his arms under you keeping you in place. 

Feathering kisses on your inner thighs, nipping at the soft skin slightly, your back arching up into him. Silently begging for more. 

‘’Need you to use your words if you want something angel’’ He continues to kiss your soft skin.

‘’P-please Spencer’’ 

‘’Please what?’’

‘’I n-need you please’’

‘’Want me to taste you angel is that what you want?’’

He wasn’t continuing until he got confirmation from you. 

‘’Mhmm’’ you nod, looking down at him. The sight of him looking up at you through your thighs drove you crazy.

Without warning Spencer slammed his lips against your heat. Lewd noises filling your small shared flat. His tongue sliding between your wet folds, lapping up every bit of you, savouring your sweet salty taste. Spencer could’ve came right there, he groaned onto you as he sucked on your clit, causing vibrations to shoot right through you. Waves of pleasure bringing you to the edge. 

Who knew Dr Spencer Reid was so damn good with his tongue. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer to you as you neared release. 

‘’Fuck Spencer oh my-’’ You moaned breathlessly. 

‘’Taste. So. fucking. Good.’’ Spencer said between licks. Not wanting to be away from your heat for even a second. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him. 

‘’You gonna cum angel? Go on, cum on my tongue, wanna taste you so fucking bad’’

His words sent you over the edge. The knot in your stomach unleashing as you reached your high all over his face. Waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your legs going limp, that was the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. Spencer moaned onto you as he hungrily lapped up all of your juices. He pulls back, his chin glistening with you all over him, licking his lips before crawling up to be face to face with you.

‘’Good girl’’ he groans softly before taking your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue. 

Spencer's hard length brushed up your folds. The sensation causes you to shiver. His tip was red, angry, needing attention. He positioned himself outside your hole. 

‘’Gonna fuck you now angel, otherwise i’ll lose control’’

‘’Please- please fuck me’’ desperation on your tongue. Hearing you talk to him like this drove Spencer crazy. Knowing he was the one to make you this way. Slurring your words with absolute pleasure. 

He slowly thrust forward, stretching you out. Your mouth hung open at his size, it felt unlike you've ever felt before, pain, pleasure, it was almost overwhelming. You gripped onto Spencer's skin so tight, your nails dug into his flesh leaving crescent shapes. Silent moans falling from your mouth as your foreheads touched together. 

‘'M’gonna move now angel ok?’’ Spencer groaned

He slowly pulled out, almost all the way before thrusting back into you, he was so deep you could feel him in your stomach. That first thrust forced out the most sinful moan, the noise going straight to Spencer's cock, he practically collapsed into your neck. He continued to thrust in and out of your wet cunt, the sounds of skin slapping filling the air. 

‘’Mm oh- fuck Y/N, so fucking tight’’ 

His pace quickened, your body shaking with pleasure. You didn’t care how loud you were being, you wanted people to know who you belonged to, who made you feel this way. Spencer's mouth was beside your ear, whimpering and moaning with every thrust he made into you. Your walls clench around him with every noise he made. 

‘’I’m not gonna last if you keep tightening around me sweetheart’’

‘’Please- wanna feel you’’

‘’What do you wanna feel angel?’’

He never stopped thrusting into you, he was going unbearably fast, you were definitely going to have a few bruises tomorrow. 

‘’Cum S-spencer, please gotta feel it’’

Your words cause blood to rush straight to his length.

‘’Fuck Y/N where do you want me to cum hmm? Getting so fucking close’’

‘’I-inside Spence, p-lease’’

‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’Yes- please need to feel it, fill me up Spencer please’’

He would like nothing more.

‘’Whatever you want, angel’’ he groaned, continuing to pound into you. He was so close, both of you breathless and sweating all over each other. Your eyes lock, both mouths agape with pleasure. Spencer's eyes turn dark, they turn lustful, he is close. You push yourself up against him more. 

‘’Fuck’’ He almost shouts, moaning loud as he releases thick white ropes into you, coating your twitching walls. The feeling of him cumming into you causing you to reach your second release. Eyes rolling to the back of your head with pleasure, you didn’t realise you were drooling over yourself. Spencer reached his thumb up, wiping it away, still inside you, waiting for both of you to catch your breath before pulling out. 

Spencer focussing on your convulsing hole watching as his cum spilled out of you, the sight almost enough to make him ready for round two. He got up and grabbed a damp cloth cleaning you both up, before pulling you into his arms.

‘’That was-’’ You begin still breathless and speechless from what you just did.

‘’Amazing’’ he finished your sentence for you.

‘’How long?’’ you asked, looking up at him, tracing shapes on his exposed glistening chest ‘’How long have you felt this way?’’

‘’Honestly- since the day I met you’’ he confessed, all you could do was stare at him with a smile creeping on your face. 

‘’I was too scared to say anything, I didn't want to ruin the friendship we had, you were, are, too special for me to lose’’ Your heart warming at this confession.

‘’But seeing you in that outfit…I just couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, I'm just glad you feel the same way’’ He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You grab his face and lightly kiss him on the lips. Sighing into him pressing your foreheads together. 

‘’I’m glad I chose this outfit then’’ You chuckle leaning your head up against his shoulder. 

You both stayed there, naked on the couch, holding each other. You convinced Spencer to watch TV with you, he actually enjoyed the show but he would never admit it. Neither of you got up to put clothes on, it was too warm for that. 

You fell asleep watching TV snuggled into him, your soft snores peeling Spencer’s eyes away from the screen. Not wanting to wake you he just smiled and kissed you softly.

‘’Good night Angel’’ he whispered.

[mattslolita]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

"but professor, i've never gotten anything lower than an A+ before!"

professor sturniolo sighs softly, rubbing the stubble along his jaw as he eyes you, licking his lips. you bite your lip in nervousness, feeling the familiar feeling of heat pooling in between your thighs whenever you were around your teacher. his intense, azure eyes that would wander hungrily over your gaze didn't ever escape you ━ you couldn't deny the obvious attraction you had towards him, either. you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help it, especially when you were his favorite student.

but after seeing the B+ on your most recent paper, your mind was spiraling and you had started to think otherwise. "i'm so confused on what i did wrong, mr. sturniolo."

"listen, y/n, your work was done well, but it was lacking," professor sturniolo explains to you, shaking his head slightly as his eyes bore into yours, "this wasn't your best work, you and i both know that. you could've done better."

a huff escapes the pout of your lips, your arms crossing against your chest. professor sturniolo's eyes wander down to where your perky, perfect breast are almost peaking out from above the white button up top you've paired with your denim skirt, just barely grazing the curves of your ass. a low rumble leaves his lips, and he clears his throat to cover it up, eyes raking over you shamelessly.

and you don't miss the way he stares.

he raises an eyebrow as you walk closer to his desk, stopping just in front of his desk where he sits in his chair. he leans back with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, manspreading as he watches the way you stare down at him pleadingly whilst pressing your plush thighs together.

"is there anything i could do..." you whine lowly, your eyes traveling down to the bulge in his work slacks, "to raise my grade?"

he chuckles lowly, his eyes darkening with a sinister gleam in his eyes. professor sturniolo tsks, shaking his head slightly before beckoning you over to him.

"get on your knees angel, hm?" he instructs you, and you nod eagerly.

you tucked your skirt under you, knees pressing against the carpeted floor of the classroom as you slowly crawl in front of him, wide eyes staring up at him as you await his next command. he feels his cock twitch in his pants upon seeing you on your knees for him, face level with his still clothed erection.

"such a sweet girl..." he hums lowly, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek, thumb swiping over you bottom lip, "willin' to break the rules jus' to raise your grade? such a naughty little thing, ain't ya?"

you whine lowly, feeling the heat pool your underwear upon hearing the way he described your current predicament ━ it was so wrong, but you couldn't help the way your body reacted to the simplicity of his hand grazing along your cheek.

"please sir, need you," you plead, wide eyes filled with lust and pleading as you stare up at him.

"go on angel, have me."

professor sturniolo lifted his hips up as he unbuttoned his slacks, sliding them down towards you ━ you eagerly slid them past his knees, gulping slightly when you saw his erection prodding against his underwear, begging to be released. he lifts his hips up once more to slide his underwear down and once they unclothe his cock, your eyes widen ━ he's big. his angry, mushroom tip is reddened with precum leaking from it. his eyes narrow at you predatorily, watching the way you take him in.

"s-so big, sir," you say, mouth watering as you look back up at him, "please, can i taste you?"

"course you can, baby," he urges, caressing your cheek, "know you can take all of me, c'mon."

you scoot closer to him until you're eye level with his dick, slowly moving forward as you lick a stripe up the underside of it ━ a low groan leaves your professor's lip, clearly having been waiting for some type of contact. you reach a hand up to slowly stroke him, watching as his eyelids become lidded as he hungrily gazes down at you.

"y'gonna tease your professor, hm?" he warns you, "gonna have to make me feel good if you wan' that A+."

without warning, you take the head of his throbbing cock until it hits the back of your throat, earning a low growl from your professor, his head lolled back in ecstasy. you raise your head up, before going back to take him again. "fuckk, there ya go, angel..."

you stroked the rest of what couldn't fit in your mouth, watching his expressions morph as you continued sucking him off. professor sturniolo's hand goes down to create a makeshift ponytail, gripping your hair harshly as he forces your head all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvic bone as he fucks your face with vigor.

"takin' me so fuckin' good, doll," professor sturniolo says darkly, his hips snapping up as he drives his cock down your throat, "breakin' the rules jus'- fuckk- cause ya didn't like ya grade? gonna make you take me, you dirty slut..."

his filthy words have you moaning around his cock, and your hand goes down and slips inside of your underwear, rubbing circles around your clit. professor sturniolo's cock begins twitching inside of your mouth, signaling he was close.

"m'close, angel," he growls, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppy, the wet, lewd noises sounding throughout the classroom. spit trickles down the sides of your mouth, and you could feel your throat becoming hoarse but you didn't care. you can feel yourself closer and closer to your own orgasm, your slick coating your fingers as you rub your clit faster.

"gonna fill that pretty mouth up with my cum," professor sturniolo groans possessively, "is that what you wan'? want your teacher to fill your dirty mouth up with his seed?"

the moan you suddenly let out around his cock gives him his answer as he looks down at you, tears filling your vision from you gagging around him ━ the tears spur him on further, hips bucking into your face roughly before his legs sputter, cock twitching as hot, white spurts of cum shoot down your throat, followed by multiple praises of your name slipping from professor sturniolo's lips.

he coaxes himself through his orgasm, guiding your mouth away from his dick, a loud pop sound following. a low whine leaves your lips as you come undone on your fingers, your arousal dripping down your thighs as you pant heavily.

professor sturniolo smirks down at you dangerously, drinking in the sight of your puffy lips, mascara streaking your eyelids as your eyes are glossed over, the scent of sex clouding around you both. his hand reaches out to yours, pulling it up towards you. he hums as he tastes your arousal on your fingers, lustful gaze on you as he licks his lips. "y'taste so fuckin' heavenly."

a small giggle leaves your lips as you stare up at him. "does that mean i get an A+ now?"

[aurynsia]

Like Real People Do

Remus Lupin x Animagus!Reader

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summary: Fox Animagus!Reader falls in love with Remus after waking up next to him in the hospital wing...

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and scars, reader is fem presenting and referred to with she/her pronouns, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst, only one mention of the other Marauders

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Streams of light trickled down your face, soft skin slick with sweat that reflected the natural glow beaming from the window above. A beating pulse ran through your head, only worsening with every slight move you made to sit up in a bed that wasn’t your own.

You groaned at the feeling of hospital sheets weighing your body down, cascading down your form to pool around your hips as you straightened your back to stretch.

Your body ached with harsh evidence of the night before, and a pained cry bounced around the walls as you twisted and turned. A cry that was not your own.

Blinking once, twice, you turned your attention to the figure sat beside you, positioned to mirror you in a bed adorned with thin sheets that had crumpled under the weight of a restless sleep.

Remus Lupin stared wide-eyed at your torn body after stretching a muscle or two, gaze flickering from your face to the scars trailing down your back. You observed him with a similar curiosity, memorising every cut and tear blessing his soft skin.

“Seems we both got into some trouble, then…” you mused, voice laced with the remnants of sleep. The Gryffindor gazed at you with a shy blush dancing on each cheek, smiling bashfully despite his aching pains.

His gaze fell below yours once again, eyes growing wider before looking away towards his own torso. You followed his previous stare with a puzzled expression before grabbing at the sheets around you to cover your exposed bra, blushing in a deep embarrassment that Remus could only describe as endearing.

“I suppose you also…transform?” He said cautiously, careful to not expose himself as an Animagus if he misjudged you. “Yeah I- transform,” you responded with his own word choice, “Though sometimes I can’t control it, last night wasn’t meant to happen…” you trailed off.

He gave you a pitiful smile, shifting to face you while stretching his arm behind his neck, “I know what you mean, I transform every full moon…” he hints.

Remus was a quiet, caring boy, completely unlike his Animagus form. You had spoken a handful of times before about your shared love for Defence Against the Dark Arts. You had clearly underestimated your overwhelming similarities that you unpicked like the sleeves of an unraveling sweater over the unlikely pillow talk that followed your chance encounter.

You quickly discovered that you were the sly, red fox to his dark, brooding wolf, a fact that made you all the more drawn to the boy. You carefully moved to sit on his hospital bed despite your growing pains, whispering in soft understanding as you both awaited Madam Pomfrey’s dotting care.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A few months later and the leaves have shifted to a golden hue since that bright summer’s morning, only visible under the full moon. You stalked through the forbidden forest, walking in line with Remus’ large dorm.

Aching from a night of battles and mischief, your sleek auburn body began to shift uncomfortably in your pace as you found yourself becoming more human by the minute.

You had grown all but inseparable with the werewolf after that fateful morning, quickly falling into a comfortable routine of tracing each other’s scars while muttering praises of admiration.

The bright moon illuminated your path, your boyfriend’s fierce eyes softened with a lidded gaze under the rays of light.

The sun threatened to tip over the horizon in a mere few hours as you slunk home side by side with the strong wolf. You fought back sleep, foxy red hair shining in Hogwarts’ glow as you clambered along the stone path.

You had never longed for the awkward feeling of hospital fabrics across your aching body as much as you did on this tiring night. Your monthly visits to hospital beds were no longer lonely as you entered hand in hand with the tall boy every time, relaxing under the cooling touch of mattress to skin.

Fully transformed and gripping the walls of the castle, you groaned as you began to sulk in the direction of Madam Pomfrey, as you had done every other treacherous night out.

“L-love, wait a minute,” Remus called in a stutter, “why don’t we just tend to ourselves tonight?”

Stopping in your tracks, you pondered his proposition for a moment, head aching as you turned to look between your boyfriend and the entrance to the hospital wing further down the hall.

“I’ll fix you up while you tend to me. We…we can fall asleep in each other’s arms, just for one night,” he continued to hiss and groan, holding his side with one hand while reaching for you with the other, “Like a- a normal couple…”

Silently, you nodded at the pleading boy with a pained smile, moving into lean against his tall body, adorned with scars. You limped in tow towards the Gryffindor dorms, contact unwavering at his decorated side.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The door to the Marauder’s dorm closed with a soft thud, Remus making sure to not alert his roommates to your arrival.

You tossed yourself onto his bed, closing the surrounding curtains as Remus fetched various remedies from his desk. He slid between the fabric enclosure as you muttered a silencing charm before letting out a pained sigh.

Remus made quick work of your wounds, applying ointment to your bare back before you did the same. The night air pushed a refreshing breeze through the dorm’s open window that shifted the fabric surrounding you like waves over land.

Overwhelmed with relief from the mutual healing, you pushed yourself down to splay across the bed, joining your boyfriend with your head to his pillow.

“We are a normal couple, you know,” you murmured, “well, as normal as we can get. Hospital wing visits will never change that.” Remus gazed into your glossy eyes, slick with sleep. “I know, love, I know. It’s just- nights like these make me want to fall asleep with my girl in my arms, like real people do…”

You hummed at his reply, lips forming a soft smile as you inched closer to the werewolf. “We are real. This is real.” You planted a delicate kiss to his pink lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the contact, in sync with your own.

“This is real.”

You encircled his legs with your own, blending your face with his chest and your hands with the back of his neck. He nuzzled into your hair, muttering sweet nothings as you drifted to sleep.

“I love you, sweet fox,” he spoke softly, only to be met with the quiet snores of his sleeping girlfriend, before joining you in slumber.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[venusbyline]

Treatment ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 29, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x college student!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: praise kink

— summary: Spencer needs to take out the frustrations of his professional life during sex with you, his girlfriend and his favorite student.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 29th day, female!reader, girlfriend!reader, professor!Reid, praise kink, aftercare, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, body worship, hair-pulling, butt slapping, biting, teacher-student relationship (NO UNDERAGE), secret relationship, dumbification, squirting, dacryphilia, creampie, cum dripping, subspace, fluffy ending, table sex, rough kissing, soft!Reid, dom!Reid, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer arrived at university stressed after a week solving an important case at the BAU, you knew he would need to take out all his frustration with you on sex. It was no longer news to the two of you how high Spencer's sex drive became after dealing with maniacal Unsubs, especially when he had to put up with so many students who seemed to have a below average IQ inside his classroom.

The opportunity to teach subjects focused on criminology, sociology and psychoanalysis had been incredible at first, but started increasingly unbearable as the final exams weeks approached. He was trying to get his students used to his assessment method little by little, giving them short and quick tests that contained only some topics that would be included in the final exams.

However, with each test he corrected, he cursed a different teenager. Spencer could barely read the answers without wanting to rip his eyes out of their eye sockets or tear his own skin. Maybe most of the students were really stupid and irresponsible, or maybe he was being very demanding due to the stress he was going through with the latest criminal case. After all, he could not judge someone's intelligence as truly inferior just because he had a real genius brain.

When Spencer saw that he would not be able to concentrate on correcting the tests, he huffed and threw randomly the pile of papers on his table, taking out his phone and sending an urgent text to you, his favorite student and secret girlfriend too.

Even though you were busy in the library studying for another professor's classes, you were more than a little eager when you saw the text from Spencer, or rather Doctor Reid, demanding your presence in his office immediately. You knew what was coming as soon as you had caught a glimpse of him walking through campus hallways earlier that day. He was stressed. And if Spencer was stressed, that meant you would suffer the consequences and be very rewarded later.

"T-This fucking good pussy!" Spencer growled, gripping your waist tighter, giving your ass a slap that made you roll your eyes in pleasure as he moved his hips deeper, more brutally, almost as if he wanted to break you into two parts.

You whimpered when the head of his cock almost hit your cervix, making you see stars. "S-Spencie!"

Your trembling moan came along with a sob, your legs shaking as you gripped the edge of his marble table, trying to steady yourself with each thrust, even though your legs were so weak that you were sure all the paperwork would fall to the floor soon. "You're doing so well, darling. Taking my thick cock inside you like a good girl..." He growled, lowering himself until his chest was against your back, biting your shoulder uncovered by the neckline of your dress. "My best student. The only one smart enough to be admitted to this stupid university."

You knew he was overreacting, but that did not stop you from smiling between moans, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter while he praised you, fingers pressing the soft flesh of your ass and his lips whispering how smart and hot you were. His favorite. You would always be his favorite student.

Spencer pulled you by your hair, until you were standing as he held himself still inside you, grabbing your chin for a sloppy and aggressive kiss. His free hand pulled just one of your legs up onto the table, the new position making him hit deeper inside your tight pussy. "Fuck... You have no idea how much I needed this." Spencer moaned, taking advantage of the fact that you understood the angle he wanted to fuck you at and he held your hips to help you keep it that way. "I love your little pussy crushing me like that. So tight, even when I'm about to fill you with my cum. You want that, darling? Going around campus with my cum running down your thighs? For everyone to know that you're the best student ever?”

You did not answer your boyfriend, as you were too busy feeling your orgasm coming. Spencer's eyes rolled back as your ass began to bounce faster by the second and you started to moan loudly, forcing him to release your chin to cover your mouth. "Shhh, little girl... You don't want people to know that you're getting special treatment from your professor, don't you, darling? You want them to know how much I love fucking your pussy until you're a whining mess?"

You shook your head immediately, muffled sounds escaping when Spencer licked your neck, continuing to whispering and dirty talking to you, the fucking starting to get more intense after you climaxed and your hole started to get creamy due his pre-cum and your juices.

Noticing how your body began to shake more than normal and your walls were spasming, Spencer let go of your hips only to finger your clit, rubbing it so roughly that you screamed into his palm and finally came again, followed by the transparent liquid squirting from your pussy while Spencer continued fucking you. He stimulated your clit until he also was cumming, moaning in an almost guttural way as he watched the scene of you crying out and squirting, feeling you milking his cock until the last drop.

Spencer sighed at the overstimulation, withdrawing himself from you, causing you to groan in pain and melancholy at the sudden emptiness. "It's okay, darling. You were so good, you're always so good to me... my good girl." Spencer whispered, picking you up to lay you down on the table. It was not the most comfortable place possible for the aftercare, but both of you knew it was the most that having sex hidden in your university professor's office could offer you. He stroked your hair, taking a tissue from his briefcase so he could wipe off the remnants of his cum running down your thighs. He gave you a soft smile because you reflexively tried to pull yourself away, your mind still trapped into the subspace. "It's just me, darling. You're okay. I just need to clean you up now. Is that okay, my girl?"

You nodded weakly and also a little confused, low but less scared whimpers coming from your lips. Spencer was careful not to hurt your already so sensitive and sore core. "My beautiful little girl. You're so perfect, darling. I'm so proud of you..." You smiled with your eyes closed, hearing his husky but loving voice.

Spencer took charge of taking care of you during that moment, placing a soft kiss on your temple, putting your panties back on and fixing your dress. Spencer caressed your head, admiring your weak and sleepy form, trying his best to hold back the giggle that wanted to escape as he noticed that the papers containing his students' tests were damp with random drops from your sudden squirt.

He would have to think about some convincing explanation to give to the university president regarding the stains on those papers. However, for now, the only thing Spencer would do was make sure you were physically and emotionally fine again so both of you could return to your proper responsibilities when the next class started.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[freedomfireflies]

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 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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