#professor!loki

[bettercallwillow]

extra credit ⚕ tom hiddleston

summary: during class, you're somewhat distracted by your professor so he asks you to stay behind

warnings: dom!tom, professor!tom, fem!reader, smut, spanking, penetration, hair-pulling, praise, breeding kink, unprotected sex, everything is consensual

note: uploaded this on my other blog but i deleted it for some reason so thought i'd upload it here. also new layout so thats cool. anyway, enjoy darlings!!

You cursed silently to yourself when you glanced up at the clock that sat above the professor’s desk. Ten minutes left. As much as you told yourself it wasn’t your fault you couldn't concentrate, it was. As always, you were way too focused on the man teaching you than the work itself, making your notes for today’s lesson look nothing like notes- more like a few lazily written sentences.  

Then again, some would argue that it wasn’t your fault; blame fate that the most attractive man alive just so happened to be your professor. You looked up at the clock again, five minutes now. You might as well just give up, there was no point trying to redeem your poorly done work.  

“That’s enough for today, everyone,” Professor Hiddleston called from his desk, glancing at the silver watch on his wrist. The sound of scraping chairs and pencil cases being thrown into bags was the only thing heard until the professor spoke again, “Miss Y/L/N, could you stay after class?” 

Your head snapped up from your notebook to the man, a blush starting to rise on your cheeks. Did he know you were checking him out during the entire lesson? Get a grip, he probably just wants to tell you how appalling your effort was today. “Sure,” you replied, hastily shoving your notebook into your bag.  

When the classroom was empty apart from you and Hiddleston, he rose from behind his desk and walked over to you. You swore your heartbeat could be heard with how hard it was thumping in your chest, you had never been alone with him before. “So,” he spoke, leaning against the table, “You going to tell me why you couldn’t focus today?” 

You scrambled your brain for a good enough excuse, “I- I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, sir,” 

He tutted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, “I don’t like it when people lie to me, darling,” The professor pushed himself off the table, turning around and walking back towards his desk, “I’m going to ask you again, and don’t lie, why couldn’t you focus?” 

You gulped, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. After a moment of contemplation, you answered him, “I was distracted, Professor,”  

You could tell he was smirking even though his back was turned to you, “And who was distracting you?” You sighed quietly; he knew all too well what was distracting you, he just wanted to hear you say it. “You, sir,” your voice was small, but you knew he heard you from the soft chuckle he let out. 

“As flattered as I am, that behaviour just can’t be tolerated in my class,” he sat at his desk, his chin resting on one of his hands. “I know, I’m sorry sir-” he cut you off by holding up a finger. Shuffling so his chair was a couple of yards away from his desk, Hiddleston tapped his knee, “C’mon then,” 

“What-” 

“As I said, that behaviour isn’t tolerated,” his eyes started to darken, “So it leaves me no other choice than to punish you,” 

You immediately pressed your thighs together at his words, feeling your cunt gush with slick. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you rose from your seat and made your way towards him, thousands of thoughts rushing through your mind. “Atta’ girl,” he breathed when you were standing in front of him.

"Bend over the desk and lift that pretty little skirt," the professor motioned his hand towards the oak table in front of you. You bit your lip, obeying him and pressing your stomach against the surface so your ass was lifted into the air. Shakily, you reached around to grip the hem of your skirt, lifting it so the fabric was bunched up around your lower back. 

"Well isn't that a sight for sore eyes?" Hiddleston chuckled, standing up from his seat and stepping closer to you. You blushed into the oak, "Thank you, professor,"

He ran his hands over your pantie-clad ass, making you mewl and push back into his touch, "So polite, aren't you?" he spoke, kneading the soft flesh, "It's a shame you can't seem to snap out of your silly thoughts and focus in class,"

A yelp fell from your lips when he landed a harsh slap on the sensitive area where your thighs meet your ass, you were sure it left a mark. "I wanna hear you say thank you after each one, is that understood?" You nodded against the desk and he brought his hand done again, this time harder.

"I said, is that understood?" he tangled his hand in your hair, pulling you so your back was pressed against his chest. You could have cum with the way he manhandled you, the way his hand felt so perfect wrapped in your hair. "Yes, professor," you cried out, "U-understood,"

"Good girl," the professor muttered next to your ear before placing a small kiss just below it and pushing you back down against the desk. "God, look how wet you are from just this," he let out a small yet dark laugh, his fingers moving to run a line down your clothed slit.

The touch sent sparks running through your spine and you let a quiet whimper, arching your back to give him a better view. "Slut," he grunted, bringing his hand down again. You let out another yelp, the sting going directly to your cunt, "T-thank you, sir,"

And so he carried on until he was satisfied. By the end of his abuse on your flesh, your ass was red and raw and tears stained your cheeks. "Please," you gasped when the professor pressed his crotch into you, "Need you," 

"Look at you," he smirked, running a hand up your back, "So needy for me already," You mewled, pressing your rear into him in search of any type of friction. Your clit was throbbing with longing, the feeling too much for you to form a proper sentence, "S-sir-"

You shut up when you felt him hook his fingers around the lace of your underwear, pulling them down and letting them pool around your ankles. "Such a pretty cunt," the professor spoke, running a finger down your already drenched cunt. You let out a breathy moan at the contact, spreading your legs a little wider so he had more access.

"Good girl," he purred, his hands moving to unbutton his trousers. He pushed them down to mid-thigh, along with his boxers, allowing his cock to hit his lower stomach with a small slap, "You ready, darling?" 

"Yes, sir," you responded almost instantly- the only thing on your mind was him. A whine rolled off your tongue when you felt his length poke at your entrance, gathering your arousal on the tip. Before you could ask him to just hurry up, he pushed his hips forward, entering you fully in one swift motion.

"Fuck.." you breathed, a prominent burning sensation creeping its way inside you as you'd never taken anybody this big before. "God, you're so tight," he moaned softly, his hands sliding slowly up your back. After giving you a moment to adjust to his size, the professor pulled out so only the tip was inside before slamming back into you.

The rhythm he created with his hips stole the breath from your lungs; every time he pushed into you, his cock hit your G-spot without fail. The professor tangled his hand in your hair, lifting you so your back was pressed against his chest, "Such a good student," he muttered, placing sloppy kisses against your neck, "Taking me so well,"

"Professor- hmph- feels so good," you babbled, the feeling of his lips on your neck adding to the ungodly amount of pleasure he was already giving to you. He let out a moan when you clenched around his length, a sign that you were reaching your high, "Please," you begged, moving your hips back in rhythm with his, "Please, sir, can I cum?"

Hiddleston let go of your hair, letting you fall back to the desk before flipping you around whilst he was still sheathed inside you, "G'won then, bunny, cum all over m'cock," he spoke through ragged breaths, his eyebrows furrowed. When he snaked his hand in between the both of you to rub at your clit, you fell over the edge- your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

A loud whiny moan rolled off your tongue as you came, your cunt clenching around his cock as he continued to abuse your G-spot. "Fuck," the professor grunted, his thrusts beginning to become sloppy as his orgasm crept up on him, "Gonna fill you up, make you carry m'kids,"

You whimpered as he began to overstimulate your poor cunt, "Please, gods, wanna have your babies," you responded, the thought of him finishing inside you almost making you cum again. After a few more thrusts, you felt his dick twitch as he buried himself up to the hilt inside of you, spraying his load against your cervix with a loud moan. 

He stayed inside you for a few moments, his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. You leaned in to kiss him, your lips fitting with his perfectly. "Thank you, Professor," you muttered when you pulled away from the kiss. He smiled down at you, his eyelids heavy, "Call me Tom, darling," 

"Thank you, Tom," you returned the smile and he slowly pulled out of you, tucking himself back into his trousers before picking up your discarded panties. Tom knelt, helping you back into your underwear whilst planting soft kisses against your leg, "You did so well for me, darling," he spoke against the skin.

When you were fully dressed again, he sat down on his chair, holding out his arm for you to join him. You happily obliged, settling yourself on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, "We need to do that more often," he chuckled, bringing up a hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. You giggled, nodding your head, "Definitely,"

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson smut #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #professor!tom hiddleston #professor!loki #professor tom hiddleston #professor loki

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Professor Loki or Professor Thor?

Forbidden Lessons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To what?” you squeak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he is still your professor.

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

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

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

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

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

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #professor!loki #loki x reader #drabble #ask drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel

[loki-ioki]

Finally got around to finishing my Sada and Turo horses.

#again as with almost all my designs they do have cutie marks i'm just bad at designing them lol #whether Turo is actually an earth pony like his son OR if he was always a unicorn but his horn broke so he made himself a new one and #Arven is somehow an earth pony even tho neither of his parents are is up to u #loki's art #mlp au #mlp #my little pony #my litte pony friendship is magic #pokemon #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #professor sada #professor turo #Sada #Turo #also i know turo's beard is a bit different it's hard for me to put on a horse lol #ALSO while Sada has many ancient traits those are just from her genetics she is not an actual ancient pegasus.

[anukulee]

Cuteness Overload and Interviews (Tom Hiddleston Audio Edition)

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

So let us begin………

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

#Youtube #dammit dammit dammit #dammit hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #tom william hiddleston #smiling tom hiddleston #professor hiddleston #audio #interview #tagging #tom hiddleston loki #mr. tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #make this go viral

[mightymarvelmemes]

Mighty Marvel Movie Poll! Round 2!

#marvel comics #marvel movie poll #marvel studios #marvel 616 #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #marvel movies #marvel entertainment #marvel superheroes #thor ragnarok #thor #loki #hulk #x men #wolverine #professor x #magneto #emma frost

[happy74827]

The Devil's Tango

{!!SPOILERS!! SEASON 4 EPISODES 1-6}

[Rhys Montrose x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: A certain professor is not very supportive of your relationship with the mayor-in-running.

WC: 2,741

Warnings: It's You... the show is warning enough.

The amount of people I see begging for an x reader of this man, and that no one had done it yet is actually hilarious. You would think after the first reveal, the whole fandom would jump at the sight of this man.

Though, realistically speaking, it's probably because he's one of those characters that are so hard to get right. Plus the fact that Part 2 didn't help in his favor at all.

I do plan to write more of him, so this is just a little tease if you will.

『••✎••』

“Hello, you.”

You jumped out of instinct, snapping your head towards the hoarse voice behind you. The chalk that you were currently using flew right out of your hand, soaring to hit the shadow that was now in front of you. Before it could hit your mystery stalker in the head, however, swift hands caught it just before impact.

“I… think you dropped this.” The sarcastic tone of an expired New Yorker made your fears fly away as your piece of chalk had. As you turned to meet the familiar brown eyes, you couldn’t help but give a slight smile.

“Oh, Jonathan,” You raised a hand to your chest, letting out chuckles in relief. “You scared me there, I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit at this hour.”

He stood in front of you blankly for a moment, as if someone had hit him with a “time freeze” superpower. You paid no mind to this of course, as it was a typical Jonathan Moore quirk. He clearly was very into his mind.

It almost reminded you of a certain… someone.

Jonathan snapped back to the present in no time with a soft, closed smile forming on his face. Within doing so, he handed you back your murderous chalk, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“Oh, no… no it’s totally my fault.” He apologized profusely, nudging his elbow towards the door. “The whole “not knocking” thing seems to be a nasty habit that only I can’t seem to get rid of.”

You nodded along to his apologies, despite already forgiving him the second you saw the familiar curls that fell down his forehead. It was pretty hard to hate the man that shared the same passion for poetry and was one of the professors that was teaching the same subject as you had.

“So, Jonathan,” you started, moving to lean your back against your desk. Your daily planner was down by your hips, along with the chalk. “What brings you to my classroom? Are you looking for some new recommendations?”

His face slightly faltered to the point where no normal, unobservant eye could witness it. The lip quiver, the slight wobbling of his left leg… they were all telltale signs of compressed emotions that an average joe wouldn’t think twice about — specifically, those who only knew the person on a surface level.

That wasn’t you, of course. You were observant to the point where it annoyed you. The constant paranoia that followed everyone’s movements practically ate you alive.

After a heap of silence, Jonathan sighed with his head facing downwards, his dark chocolate eyes refusing to look at you.

“It’s about Rhys Montrose.”

Your eyebrow raised in confusion at his words, your hands subconsciously resting on the desk, with your planner and chalk beside you. It was now you who had that blank daze.

“I…” You were absolutely speechless to the point where you could feel your jaw drop slightly. Jonathan knew Rhys? You’ve of course mentioned your relationship with Rhys to Jonathan himself, but you had no idea they had actually met. Honestly, you were still having a hard time believing that the nerd had met Lady Phoebe.

You straightened yourself, using your arms as leverage, as you looked at him with furrowed brows. “With how busy he constantly is now, I wasn’t even aware-“

“He’s not what you think he is.” Jonathan cut you off, his eyes shooting you to meet with yours. They were full of… worry?

“Jonathan, what are you—?“

His hands reached out to your shoulders, his body encasing you between himself and your desk. With every step he took closer to you, the more your eyes widened with confusion.

“You don’t know him, not like you think you do,” Jonathan whispered, “He’s a danger to society.”

You pulled his arms off of you, completely shocked by his tone. His phone buzzed as you looked at him bewildered, but he ignored his new text message. All he was focused on was you, just you.

“A danger to society? Jonathan, he’s just running for mayor.” You scoffed, turning back your attention to the chalkboard from before the librarian arrived. “You know, I didn’t take you for a man that’s into politics.”

“It’s not about fucking politics!” His hands slammed down on your desk. It caused you to jump, turning back towards the man only to find him mere inches from your face.

You tried to back away, but he pulled you right back in. “Jonathan—“

“You’re not listening!” His hands grabbed at your arms, his eyes darkened underneath the light you both stood under. “Rhys is a danger to society, he’s a danger to you.”

Jonathan continued to shake you and yell words into your ears, but everything around you went mute. The slightly muffled conversations from students down the hallways were silenced. You saw Jonathan’s lips moving, frantically, but you couldn’t hear. You didn’t want to hear.

“Jonathan, I think you need to leave.” You muttered to him coldly. It was a tone that would get anyone to stop and think, and he did just that. He paused, and it was then you gathered your strength and shoved him off of you for the final time. He stopped abruptly, his eyes questioning you.

He begged and pleaded with you to hear him out, but you refused. You refused to even glance in his direction. You were rarely an angry person, you usually kept it bottled up to come out in soft rants, but you were afraid if you said another word to Jonathan, you might just go ballistic to the point where you’d risk losing your valuable job, something you couldn’t afford to lose.

So, you told him to get out of your classroom once again and eventually he was forced to listen. He left when your familiar, upbeat students came pouring in one by one.

Despite the almost psychotic break dearest Jonathan had beforehand, class had gone rather smoothly for you. The students actually engaged with one another and focused completely on the short story at hand.

Not once had they gone off-topic. Then, of course, the devil shows up with a knock at your door, disrupting everything. It was one of the things you’ve hated the most, as you found it terribly rude, but your forgiving nature came into play when you realized it wasn’t the man you believed it to be. When you turned your head, it was Rhys who stood there with his hands crossed against his chest. He wore his signature suit and tie, which both complemented his figure and his eyes.

You gave him a slight smile in return, but the look he gave - the blue eyes devouring yours - had you following him outside the classroom rather immediately. You trusted your students enough to behave themselves.

Once outside the view of your students, Rhys gingerly wrapped his hand around your arm, guiding you to a secluded spot in the hallway that was sure not to draw attention. With Montrose's face being blasted everywhere as the mayor-in-running, it was hard finding privacy in public.

You were about to ask what it was that had him so upset to the point where he chased you down at work, but he beat you to it.

"Hello, darling," Rhys's voice sounded almost strained, tired even. It had been a while since you last saw him, not to mention that his friend Gemma had just recently become another victim of that so-called "Eat-The-Rich Killer," though Rhys had "admitted" that she wasn't his friend. If you recalled, he used the words, "Oh, piss off, you manky hypocrite" when he had last spoken with her. Still, the bags under his eyes suggested that he hadn't slept much the night before.

"Ah, nice to see you haven't changed your habits." Rhys covered his tiredness with a knowing smile as he gently leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "Maybe a psychology degree would be a better fit for you."

"Sorry," you apologized, looking slightly down. "It's just... not that I'm not glad to see that you're back, I really am, but are you okay? You look like you haven't slept for days, and you usually don't drop by the university unless there's a problem."

Rhys licked his lips, letting out a breathy laugh as he raised his hands to his hips. The tiredness in his eyes went away for a moment, resulting in him staring at you amusingly. A look that only took you a few seconds to realize you'd analyzed him once again.

You couldn't help but internally groan at yourself, but he only shot you another charming smile. It was one so enchanting that it made you swoon at the sight.

However, he eventually dropped that smile and sighed, caving into your concerns.

"I've had a long week," he confessed to you. "Oddly enough, I couldn't work my usual charm to get through to some... certain people, but I'm optimistic. Nothing a little persuasion won't fix."

"Me too, it's been a crazy morning." You agreed with a sigh. The incident with Jonathan within the previous hour was still fresh in your mind, haunting you to your core.

You never felt threatened by Jonathan, but as you recollected the scene, his body towering over yours with the desk blocking you from escaping. His arms held you, keeping you captive as he screamed about the man - the man who you loved with all your heart - wasn't the man you knew. That he was a façade, dishonest... an apparent danger to you.

Of course, you didn't believe Jonathan. You trusted Rhys with your life, but nothing about what Jonathan said sat right with you. He couldn't have known Rhys for more than six months, so why did he act as if he knew him better than you...

Rhys whispered your name, calling you back to face him. He was closer to you than he was before, with eyes that held his growing concern. As his hands gingerly reached out to caress your shoulders, you wanted to tease him about how he was now the observer, but you stayed quiet.

He didn't like that.

"Darling, what is it?" he pushed softly, his accent adding gentleness to his tone, "What happened?"

"It was… really odd," you muttered, your mind flicking back to your classroom, the way Jonathan's hands slammed down on the desk with sudden rage, how badly it made your heart skip a beat. "My coworker, Jonathan, he—"

Rhys cut you off. "You said, Jonathan?"

"Yes," you nodded.

"As in… Jonathan Moore?”

Huh, it seemed Jonathan wasn't lying to you about it after all. They really do know each other. The more you thought about it, however, made you wonder why Rhys never told you about him. He must have known you both worked in the same building.

You nodded to his question once again, lowering your eyes down toward the glassy floor beneath you. You didn't have to look at Rhys to know he was listening intently.

"Usually, Jonathan comes in to give or receive book recommendations, but today he was acting… really off," you glanced back up at him, as you began to quiver. "He was stating things about you, and shouting at me, and I… I don't know. It really threw me in for a loop."

Rhys' head snapped up at you like a lightning strike. His eyes no longer contained the concern he had held before. They darkened, as well as his voice.

"What did he say to you?"

"Something about how you were a danger to society, and apparently a danger to me," you shivered at the memory. "He shouted a lot of things really, but I canceled out the majority of them and threw him out, metaphorically of course."

Rhys mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately, it was something you couldn't quite pick up on. The only thing you could do was watch as he sucked on his tongue, making a face as though he was eating sour candy, before glancing up to meet your eyes again.

You stayed quiet, observing his newfound attitude. His jaw was clenched, with arms shifting towards the wall to encase you within them before letting his head fall and lean into you. He practically did what Jonathan did but with the wall instead of your desk, and despite the similarities, you weren't scared of Rhys. His eyes fluttered closed with his — now loosened tie — dangling out in front of you. His lips were only inches away from the base of your neck, and you couldn't help but take in his signature scent of grounded coffee grinds.

"Rhys," you whispered softly towards him, ruffling up his short hair slightly. He let out another sigh that unclenched his jaw and pushed himself closer to you. You couldn't help but notice how relieved he now seemed, letting out gentle, smooth huffs of air to take in the moment.

Unfortunately, as much as you'd like to stay like this — being you haven't had him for a week — you still had a class to teach. Regrettably, you forced yourself to peel away from his arms, whispering short apologies and promises to see him later.

You didn't look back as you retreated back to your classroom. Upon returning to your desk, you turned to see that every single one of your students either gave you a smirk or a knowing nod, and you couldn't help but threaten them with a pop quiz that you were positive they weren't prepared for. As expected, it shut them right the hell up.

Ah, the power of being a professor.

———

When Jonathan arrived home that night with his now empty red takeout bag, he couldn’t help but sense the feeling that he was being watched. His feeling turned out to be correct when he went to unlock the door of his apartment, only to find it already unlocked.

The professor froze momentarily, hesitating whether he should enter unarmed or retrieve a nearby weapon. But being in sight of absolutely nothing, he had no choice but to grudgingly step inside.

As expected, when closing the door behind him, the lights of his living room flickered on and within the light revealed the man he most desperately wanted to kill.

The unwelcome man sat on his chair like he owned the place. A martini resided in his hand as he gave a sarcastic smile. The yellow light mixed in with the fiery flames of the fireplace reflected the same unnerving expression.

“Hello, Professor Moore,” the man spoke with amusement as he turned to face the bearded killer. His accent had the falsified name rolled off in a tease.

The owner rolled his eyes as he dropped the bag he held down at his feet. His keys were put safely back into his pocket. He should’ve known this would happen.

“Despite how much I would love to carve out your marvelous attractive eyes,” the man stood up, swirling the drink in his hand as he approached the professor. “I have to admit, Joe, I underestimated your intelligence. I knew you were smart, since the very beginning mind you, but this was just… impressive.”

Joe ground his teeth. “What do you want with me, Rhys? Why are you even here?”

“Two things, really,” Rhys smacked his lips together, nodding his head as he looked down for dramatic effect. When he glanced back up at the professor, his amusing smile was gone. His hand stopped swirling the martini, keeping it eerily still, and his eyes darkened almost instantly.

“Remember what we talked about, Joe, with the replacement. I want it done within twenty-four hours. If not, as I said earlier, you’ll be going down for everything.”

Joe’s breath hitched as Rhys stalked closer to his body. The piercing blue eyes caused the professor to freeze in his thoughts, forcing him to watch for Rhys’ unpredictability.

“And if you ever come near my girl again,” his voice was ghostly, sending chills throughout Joe’s entire body. “I’ll be the one who throws your ass in the cage.”

As if he were a light switch, Rhys pulled his lips into a grin within seconds. In a calm manner, he forced his half-sipped martini into the professor’s hands before seeking himself out.

For the first time in a long time, Joe Goldberg felt uneasy.

*Rhys x reader being nonexistent on Tumblr*

Me:

#rhys montrose #you #rhys montrose x female reader #rhys montrose x reader #x reader #rhys montrose x yn #rhys #you show #professor reader #joe goldberg #jonathan moore #you season 4 #you s4 #spoilers #in loki's voice: Your saviorrrr is hereee #rhys is literally so hot I cant- #mans is also very hard to write #I volunteered myself to write this knowingly I should be studying #i redwrote this like nine times #how can this man be popular and also not #literally like ?? makes no sense #it turned out pretty good though so im not complaining #and at least the edits of this man aint slacking #theres like slight goldrose in here since it's the only produced fan fiction i've seen so far #rhys x joe #goldrose #rhys montrose x joe goldberg #you s4 part 1 #you season 4 part 2 #ed speleers

[transformedgirlspringbracket]

#tournament poll #norse mythology #professor layton #loki #don paolo #transformedgirlspringbracket

[loopsisloops]

[Tom Hiddleston & Zawe Ashton at a Rugby match: ENGvWAL]

#HOLY SHIT HE HEARD ME THE GLASSES ARE BACK #professor Hiddleston is back ladies and gentlemen #tom hiddleston #zawe ashton #tom hiddleston loki

[arinchez-png]

That one weel of colours challange (only queer characters)

#tgcf #hua cheng #disco elysium #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra adora #loki #marvel #the owl house #legend of korra #korra #avatar korra #professor venomous #ok ko #euphoria #euphoria jules

[janddrawn]

Party at Bruce's Bar.

#hawkeye #kate bishop #professor hulk #she hulk #daredevil #falcon and #loki #sylvie #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #steven grant #moon knight

[rosstrytobe]

#Un professore 2 #Un professore #Thursgay #Is still on #thursday #Is the National day of gays #Simuel #Simone e manuel #Lokius #loki s2 #loki #Loki x mobius #my meme #italy #usa

[nicolegmattos]

But also like this:

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki #loki memes #severus snape #snape #professor snape #snape gif #Snape walking

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Please tell me that there is part 2 for Forbidden Lessons

Forbidden Lessons II

If you insist!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm,” you hum and heave.

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

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

“Does it?” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #drabble #ask drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #professor!loki #mcu #marvel

[loki-ioki]

Sada & Koraidon

art trade half for @jetaloen

#used this as an opportunity to draw Sada with the Koraidon specifically for my Voleeta AU that killed Turo (since it's a mix of both Violet #and Scarlet. Miraidon is the buddy bike and (shiny) Koraidon is the bully. Turo dies and Sada lives and takes over her husbands work #anywho #loki's art #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #professor sada #sada #koraidon

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Forbidden Lessons Masterlist

Summary: Your professor gives you special lessons. (Loki)

Status: In Progress

Forbidden Lessons 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4 

Part 5 

Part 6 

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Path A Ending

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Path B Ending

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #au #professor au #drabble series #series #mcu #marvel #loki x reader #bucky barnes

[five-miles-over]

The Age of Loki - Part One

(credit to @tomhiddlestunned for this image)

Pairing: Professor Hiddleston x Reader, Loki x Reader (eventually)

Summary: For his second year teaching at Oxford's English department, Professor Hiddleston hires you to be his first-ever teaching assistant. One night while working late, he shows you the newest addition to his poetry class's syllabus: the Lokasenna, a poem centered on the Norse god of mischief...and accidentally summons the trickster god himself.

Disclaimer: this fic is not meant to offend any real-life person, it's just a relatively-harmless AU meant to explore a hypothetical what-if scenario.

Warnings: just a little jealousy, but mainly banter

Professor Hiddleston lived by three rules. Rule number one, always be kind to everyone you meet. Rule number two, dancing's not a crime. And rule number three, never get Starbucks for yourself without buying something for your TA, especially if she's working late. 

Professor Hiddleston strode into the library closest to the Oxford English department building as the grandfather clock rung ten times. His brown curls combed back, he wore a crisp three-piece suit and carried a leather messenger bag on his left shoulder. He immediately made his way towards the table where you were grading essays for his Fundamentals of Poetry course, and placed a Starbucks cup in front of you. 

"Grande Earl Grey Tea Latte with two shots of espresso and a dash of vanilla."

At the sound of his voice, you looked up from your papers and lowered your red felt tip pen. "Two weeks of working for you, and you've already figured out my coffee order?"

"Well, you were in my course for nearly five months before you became my teaching assistant." Professor Hiddleston gently corrected you with a smile, lowering the messenger bag from his shoulder while his right hand held a croissant wrapped in brown parchment paper. He took a bite into the flaky pastry and licked his bottom lip. "Plus, you always sat in the front row. I could smell the Earl Grey from your cup while I was lecturing."

"It was a course held at eight-thirty in the morning," you quipped, taking a sip. "I needed my caffeine. And so did you, judging by the tea cup on your desk."

Professor Hiddleston chuckled. He loved the way you always had a comeback ready for him. It made your relationship so much more than former student-former professor, or TA-and-professor. 

Being a relatively new professor at Oxford, you were the first teaching assistant he'd hired since he began his second year as a member of the university's faculty. Yes, his first course within the English department last year had a class size of almost two hundred students, but that number dwindled like drops of morning dew throughout the semester. And within the fifty or so students that remained, you were one of the few who stood out to him as someone genuinely interested in his class discussions and assignments. You showed up to every lecture, without fail, completely prepared and willing to bring your own ideas to the table. And to someone like Hiddleston, that was exactly what he needed in an assistant. Someone who could help him navigate the challenges of teaching a course from start to finish. 

So when the semester came to a close, and he'd finished doling out the final grades, he left a handwritten note on your term paper inviting you to see him in his office. When you arrived, he simply made you an offer, or rather a promise. He promised you the position of his first-ever TA, with a decent pay for a university student - about twenty-one thousand pounds a year - and the opportunity to be his "second-in-command", like a king's chief advisor, though some would say that a king's second-in-command is actually his queen…Never mind that for the moment. 

To say that working alongside you was enjoyable would be an understatement. He liked discussing with you in the library about life, literature, and how many times is appropriate to watch the same play. Professor Hiddleston found himself looking forward to each moment with you, to the point where he started ending his appointments five minutes earlier than scheduled, just so he could have a few minutes to comb his hair and put a little extra spritz of cologne before seeing you. And every time he had the privilege of introducing you as his new teaching assistant, whether he was talking to fellow professors or to one of his three classes this semester, Professor Hiddleston's face would light up as if he'd won the lottery. Actually, in Professor Hiddleston's mind that may as well be true; you were truly one of the best people he'd ever met since he joined the university.

You took another sip, and underlined a few awkwardly phrased sentences on the paper in front of you. "It looks like a lot of these people quoted Shakespeare's sonnet. You know, the one everybody knows about? 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'" You wrote a 'B' on the paper and then grabbed another essay, pushing a section of hair out of your face. 

"You picked a good assignment for your Fundamentals of Poetry course, it's very fitting for the first essay of the semester," you remarked, bringing him back into reality. You read aloud the prompt, which asked the students to write about how poetry has affected their lives. They were encouraged to include examples of poems that had a lasting impact on their lives and their world views. And if Professor Hiddleston were true to his word, then he would possibly use the assignment as a basis to decide which of the poems from his course's syllabus he might actually teach.

"I thought so too." 

"-Thou art more lovely and more temperate," Professor Hiddleston murmured in continuation, taking a few steps so that he was now standing right next to your chair, his eyes on you while you graded the next essay. "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date…" The half-eaten croissant completely forgotten, he placed his free hand on the table, inching it towards the essays and haphazardly-arranged pens until it was almost a millimeter away from your arm. He immediately froze as soon as he realized the proximity, his hand tensed all of a sudden.

His ability to recall verses at the drop of a hat was always impressive; it was one of the many things you liked about Professor Hiddleston. Your head down, you continued to skim the essay before marking it with a 'C+'. You sighed, "Exactly. But none of them seem to give proper explanations as to why this particular sonnet by Shakespeare. Listen to this, Professor. 'Shakespeare sonnet number eighteen has made me see the world in a more romantic way. I have learned to appreciate the beauty in the world, and see the 

Professor Hiddleston leaned against the table. "And why do you think that is an unsatisfactory explanation?" He asked with a small smile.

"Because that kind of an explanation could be used for any kind of poem. Alright, maybe not any kind of poem, but it's not specific to sonnet number eighteen."  

"I couldn't agree more," Professor Hiddleston simply said. "There's no clarification as to why that particular sonnet, or Shakespeare's sonnets in general?"

"No, not really." Putting the 'C+' essay along with the other graded ones, you reached for the Starbucks cup. "I just don't understand why a bunch of the students would all quote the same sonnet for this assignment, and then all use…shoddy explanations." 

Your word choice made him chuckle and look down for a moment. You could definitely make a great professor yourself.

Just then, your phone vibrated, and you reached down to the leg of your chair, into your bag to check it.

Professor Hiddleston crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders as the smile disappeared. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, my boyfriend Chris just texted me. He's upset about having to postpone our date night."

He sighed aloud. 

"What is it?" You frowned and put the phone away. 

"I don't like him."

"You haven't even met the guy." 

He looked you in the eye, arms still crossed. "Not entirely true. I saw him pick you up from this very library two days ago, at eight-thirty. It was after you finished grading my pop quizzes on "The Fall of the House of Usher". He's a tall, blonde,…surfer, beach bum kind of boy, right? This Christopher of yours-"

You nearly gave the professor a scowl. "He hates being called that."

"I'm just saying that you could do better than this Christopher. He's just not the type of guy that you should be with."

You shook your head. "You're a wonderful professor, but I'm not taking dating advice from someone who's dating three different women at the same time." You retorted and picked up the red felt tip pen for no reason. 

His eyebrows furrowed. "Now hang on just a moment -" He interjected, "We agreed that nothing was to be exclusive."

"Is 'we' referring to you and your cell phone?" Alright, that wasn't your best comeback ever, you had to admit. It was late, and more than anything, you needed a warm hug and some sleep. 

"Drink your tea, it's getting cold." Professor Hiddleston pointed to your Starbucks cup, and then took a bite into the croissant, which was already starting to feel tough, almost rubbery in his mouth. "There's something I wanted to show you. Something I want for tomorrow's class."

"What is it?"

Professor Hiddleston ate the rest of the croissant in a single bite, reached into his bag, and retrieved a leather-bound book, its edges slightly torn up. The pages were almost a yellowish-beige, barely glued to the spine, and covered in dust. 

He began to flip through the pages. "It all began with the gods having a feast, hosted by the sea god Ægir. Loki grew jealous of all the praise being heaped upon the other guests, and slew Ægir's servant Fimafeng." 

"The Lokasenna," Professor Hiddleston introduced, a touch of theatricality in his voice, the same voice he used for his lectures. "It's a poem from Norse mythology, one of the poems from the Poetic Edda, describing the exchange of insults between Loki - the god of mischief - and the other gods."

"Interesting choice…it's certainly no Shakespearean sonnet." You commented.

You took a drink from your Starbucks, nodding. "Hm-hm." The clock inside the library rung eleven times, the sound as solemn as  funeral march. 

"And then," he sat across from you and continued to narrate, "Loki enters the hall and demands to be seated. The other gods are reluctant, but Loki recalls an old vow sworn with Odin that they should drink together. So, the gods make some space for Loki." Professor Hiddleston's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And Loki continues to insult the gods, and no one can seem to stop him. The only one…" he turned the page, "who can stop Loki is Thor, the son of Odin, because Thor is the only one who Loki fears."

"Thor, the…god of thunder?"

"Thor the god of thunder," Professor Hiddleston flipped the page again.

You asked him if the book contained any original Norse dialect, or any Old Norse. It turns out it was just a one-of-a-kind book about Loki left in the Oxford library hundreds of years ago, containing an English word-for-word translation of the Lokasenna, along with an interpretation of each verse. It could've been a collector's item, sitting in the study of some member of the bourgeoise, but it served a more glorious purpose in the library of a university, available for literature enthusiasts. 

I, Lopt, from a journey long,

Professor Hiddleston cleared his throat and began reading to you the part where Loki demanded the other gods for a drink.

"Thirsty I come | into this thine hall,

To ask of the gods | that one should give

Fair mead for a drink to me."

He paused only to sneeze, which should've been expected given the amount of dust within the old book.

Professor Hiddleston sneezed again, and you noticed a small cloud of blue dust rise from the book when he did. He finished the verse,

"Why sit ye silent, | swollen with pride,

Ye gods, and no answer give?"

"At your feast a place and a seat prepare me,

Or bid me forth to fare."

After he sneezed a third time, louder than before, another cloud of blue dust escaped from the pages. Only this time, the cloud of blue dust grew larger, and larger…until it began to swirl around the two of you.

"What's happening?" You hurriedly stood up from your chair. 

Professor Hiddleston gulped, his eyes wide as he dropped the book onto the table and immediately reached for your arm. "I-I-I don't know! I…Are we being transported to another realm?!"

"I should hope not!"

After what felt like several moments of confusion, the blue dust subsided. Before you stood a tall man with shoulder-length, greasy black hair, a pale oblong face with defined cheekbones, and a deceptive smirk. He wore a cape lined with green silk, that billowed around his ankles as he strode towards you, and his black leather heeled shoes clicked as he walked. 

Professor Hiddleston made his way forward, standing between you and the tall man with his hands out. "Who are you?" He demanded, his lip quivering. 

"I am Loki of Asgard," the man smugly introduced himself. With a wave of his hand, a set of golden horns appeared on his head, and a dagger in his other hand. Another wave, and both of those things disappeared. "And I have been summoned."

Tag list: @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @lokidbadguy @turniptitaness @lokisgoodgirl @evelyn-kingsley @lovelysizzlingbluebird @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @omgsuperstarg @holdmytesseract @lokidbadguy @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life

#tom hiddleston #loki god of mischief #loki #tom hiddleston characters #professor tom hiddleston #professor fic #professor hiddleston #professor hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x reader fic