#prof!tom smut

[little-diable]

All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)

Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta

Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)

She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 

“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 

“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 

“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 

“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”

……

“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 

“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 

“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 

“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).

“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 

“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”

“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 

(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 

“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 

“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.

She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.

“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 

He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.

His toy, his pet, his woman. 

Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 

“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 

“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.

“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”

#Tom Riddle smut #Tom Riddle imagine #Tom Riddle x reader #prof fic #Harry Potter smut

[smolvenger]

Greetings bestie 💖🫡

Requesting a Professor Hiddles story (you can choose what subject he's teaching) where he already has this friendly type of dynamic w/ Reader and she's nervous about finals week and he goes "Tell you what, if you ace all your exams I'll take you out to dinner. Anything you want."

…And then (surprise surprise) she wants to skip all that because she just wants him 🫠🫠

I shall leave spice level entirely up to you 😏

And for some ✨inspiration✨…

Hi bestie! Thank you for requesting a Prof! Tom fic! I loved writing it!

Exam Aid (Prof! Tom Hiddleston x Student! Reader)

Summary: When finals have gotten you down, your Shakespeare professor offers some help...and motivation...

Word Count: 5939 (woof)

Warnings: Eventual Smut at the end! NSFW! (Reader is a college student ((if undergrad or graduate that's up to you)) so she's over 18. Dom! Prof Hiddles and Sub! Reader, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, doggy style, doing it in an office. It's super filthy when it gets there, so be warned), mentions of anxiety and insomnia and mental health. My Shakespeare tastes and my IRL English Major college experiences are used and referenced bc it's my indulgent fic too and I do what I want. Some hurt/comfort. Prof Hiddles being both a dom and silly goofy in one fic bc get you a man who can do both.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss@ijuststareatstuffhereok89@evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "I'm good at more than just kissing" and ends at "He looked at you with a sweet smile", for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

 It wasn’t the actual week of finals. Oh no, you knew how the drill would go. It was the month or week before. It would be assigned. Every last essay thrown on top of you. And with professors without a touch of reality for students.

“Who the hell has time to read and finish A Tale of Two Cities in two days?!” you thought as you shoved your unabridged copy of Dickens in your bag. Promising yourself to get through as much as you can and then read the Sparknotes summary in the morning. You weren’t immune to it.

Throughout your time in college, you had many a professor. Professors came in varieties. There were creative writing professors who ranged from tiny women who would assign short stories that made no sense to blonde men with glasses and toothy grins who loved it when their male classmates wrote exploitative abuse. Mythology professors with Greek accents and tans. Then there were the mixed bag of literature professors. 

The previous professor of the literature survey for Shakespeare also taught the American Literature Survey course. He was Dr. Rutledge. He wasn’t from this year, or even this reality. Either a wise old sage or a kooky scientist from the movie. He had long, thin grey hair, and wore bow ties with black glasses and thick tweed jackets. He smiled and would speak for hours in a tone half sarcastic, half serious. You knew he would go back home and cozy up with a whole copy of Moby Dick next to a fireplace as he sipped on tea or even scotch if he was feeling adventurous. When he brought up sex and seduction with the Scarlet Letter it was the equivalent of hearing a nun confess her last orgy. 

So when you registered this year for the Shakespeare course, that was the sight you were expecting.

Since the first day in walked someone different. He may have been wearing a suit, but he definitely was not Dr. Rutledge. 

Everyone was gossiping and chattering and sipping on their iced coffees when they fell silent. Every single back stood up straighter at the sight of him. Young, tall, virile. Long, curly reddish blonde hair. A goatee and glasses to show his maturity. Sharp suits that framed every inch of his lean but fit body. Eyes and cheekbones to die for. A jaw so straight it made the men taking the class question if they were.

No introduction of “hi, I’m-” No icebreaker games. He only stepped forward, to his podium. Held onto it, everyone leaned forward. He had all of you in the palm of his hand. Then, with his clear, bright baritone voice, he spoke-

“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York…”

His voice…something about it. So…rich…Goddammit, he picked that one, the opening speech of Richard the Third. If he picked Romeo’s balcony declaration or something like that, you would be in even more danger of falling onto the floor in a horny heap of suppressed yearning. But no…it was Richard the Third’s monolgoue. Of all the characters he was playing, of all the characters in the Shakespeare canon you could thirst after, it was fucking Richard the Third. Definitely not known as a hunk or even a likable person according to canon. 

But the way he said it- threatening, villainous even. He leaned in and confessed his true feelings about the royal family and his plot to destroy them and rule over them. You could already feel something stirring inside you. And it was eight am in the morning. 

As he finished the monologue, speaking it so naturally it was as if it were his own words, the class burst into applause.

With a casual bow, brushing his curly blonde-red hair out of his face, he introduced himself.

“Hello class- good morning. I’m your professor- Professor Hiddleston, and I will make this as fun and engaging as a morning class on Shakespeare can be.”

From then on, you enjoyed the class. You tackled it on- after all, you wanted to have some fun. You loved Shakespeare. But Professor Thomas Hiddleston…was a bonus. Thank the lord he wore suits. And if not suits, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. He might as well as taken it off for you. 

You went through various sonnets. Then explored the poetry- Aphrodite and Lucretia. Then the plays. Even plays that the undergrads thought the most dull he made intriguing. He made everything clear with Shakespeare’s life too himself- how the Bard lost a son named Hamlet. How Shakespeare was accustomed to the great courts and low brothels Prince Hal tasted both of. 

When theatres did productions or there was the odd movie adaptation in theatres, everyone went to go see it. Then he had a showing of lesser-known film adaptations. Showing how Orson Welles framed the shot of Falstaff to make the large knight seem even larger. The Bollywood Othello where at long, long last Emilia survived and she was the one to kill Iago, much to the class’s cheering.

“Are there any other movies we should watch?” he asked.

One kid shot up and suggested Shakespeare in Love. He raised an eyebrow.

“ It was not Shakespeare’s invention to have the lovers die. Romeo and Juliet was a a known story in Elizabethan era England and everyone knew back then that the lovers died. It’s like someone just suggesting that Superman comes from another planet- we all know he does. Not  because of him having an illicit affair as his poor wife was left to raise their surviving children far off and alone!”

“What about Anonymous!?” cried one kid, trying to be cool.

He let out a deep, ragged sigh. 

“There is more than enough evidence to suggest Shakespeare wrote the plays. Every criticism says he can’t write it because he was uneducated. However, if you look, there are hysterical inaccuracies in his geography And no one questions the authorship of Maya Angelou because of her lack of formal education! Just because he was not a nobleman, does not mean he was not aware of things as you are! Every Anti-Stratfordian argument boils down to classicism.” 

It was the best class you took. Having him teach definitely helped. And he would invite people for coffee talks and of course, you would bolt to join. Yet you enjoyed it- seeing him so relaxed. Warm in his coat as everyone circled around to talk about plays they knew of but hadn’t read in this class.

“Well- all of us went through our high schools. We all read Romeo and Juliet- what do you think?” he questioned them one autumnal day. 

“They’re just brats! Ugh!” one guy snarled out.

That you couldn’t take. You set down your drink, glaring at him. 

“They’re not!” you cried out passionately.

Eyes turned forward to you. You wished youcould have slapped him, but you stopped.

“Well, Y/N…why do you think that? Why are they not brats?” the professor asked. 

“I think…the plays aren’t meant to be realistic. Of course, they fall in love immediately- so do Rosamund and Orlando but no one calls them brats! It’s not Romeo and Juliet who get everyone killed! It’s not their love that hurts anyone- it’s just the feud and Paris l thinking he is entitled to Juliet’s body after her supposed death! No one knows about them- only they, the nurse, and the priest know about it! They’re innocent! Juliet calls Romeo her ‘friend!” Her one and only friend! That’s how alone she is without him! They are just innocent victims of a greater scheme. Hamlet and Othello fall prey to their own flaws- but Romeo and Juliet are just two young kids caught in the crossfire!”

You didn’t realize how passionate you were. You felt your face get hot with embarrassment as the class gaped at you. But the Professor was nodding his head. He gave you a small smile as you sat down.

“That was…very good. Next time, use the text and a few sources, and you have yourself a good essay, Y/N,” Professor Hiddleston said.

You liked how he challenged you. He would only want you to do better. He wouldn’t blow smoke up your ass, but he would support you. You would ask after each other. He told you a bit about his life- about how much there was to grade. How he got the job. Little things- but little things only added up to how much you liked him. Even…even…no, you couldn’t you would never say it aloud. But your bedtime fantasies…you were more than mere friends…but that was only for fantasies. 

You tried to let those regular Shakespeare classes comfort you. But finals were taking a toll on your sleep, and your health. You were so wound up and stressed, trying to read and perfect essays that you had trouble going to bed. Your brain kept churning- unable to think of anything else but your work. You couldn’t realx- you worked so hard to get into this school, this degree. If you didn’t pass then…you would be a failure and all that work to go to this school would be for nothing. 

At least after a sleepless night, you had something to look forward to- to distract yourself. But even lately in those classes, you curled into yourself. The heaviness of your exhaustion and the jolt of your anxiety over finals in an unending cycle of misery. You were so…tired…and done…and drained…you knew it would pass with time…

After class, as everyone filed out, Professor Hiddleston walked over to where you slowly gathered your things. He held out a hand to you.

“What is it, Y/N? You’re usually smiling and happy here. But you seem very grave lately…has something happened?”

You shook your head.

“Not really just…finals…I want to do well. I can’t get C’s- I want to do them perfectly! I want to! I want this degree! Now I…I’m so scared of failing…I wanted this school so much, now I…I…” you began to mutter.

You felt tears wriggling out of your eyes, and your breath shook as you uselessly tried to hold them back. He handed you tissues from his coat pocket. You felt like a trashbag- crying in front of this fucking Greek God. But he looked at you kindly. You wiped your eyes. Snot threatened to release from crying and you blew your nose. Ugh, he would think you were especially gross after that. But his gentle smile did not change. You wrapped up the tissues and tossed them aside- then he handed you the little plastic package.

“Is it mansplaining if I give you some advice?” he asked.

“Oh, no…it’s not…” you said. 

“Break your studies apart, Y/N. Ten little minutes at a time. A break. Then ten more. If you take time to focus, it will help you. Or if you make it fun and play music or make little drawings, then you have a picture as well…I know it means a lot…but if you rest, you will recover…and you must think smart, not hard,” he advised.

“Okay…” you nodded.

“Y/N, there are counselors here…they will help you and you don’t have to pay anything. They; 've helped me, and so many others, they should help you…” he suggested. He got out pamphlets from a corner of his desk to give to you. 

“I’ll see one…Why are you so kind to me?” you asked impulsively, looking up.

He put his hands in his pockets, glancing down, and then back up.

“If I may be frank, you remind me so much of myself when I was a student. I had a thesis I had to write on Shakespeare’s problem plays…and it consumed me. I wish someone had given me that advice at that time-I only want you to suffer a little less. Don’t be so hard on yourself- like I was on me…”

You nodded up at him, adjusting the straps of your bag and gathering your things in your arms. 

 “And I’ll..I’ll make it fun- I’ll think of a reward for after…” you said.

He placed his hands in front of him, his lips tightening, and then in a rushed exhale, he spoke. 

“Y/N…how would you…you…you like dinner? After finals?”

You perked your head up. Was this real? You blinked at him, saying nothing.

“Y/N…make me a bet…Go to counseling, break apart your studying, get through your finals, and do as well as you can…and I will take you out to dinner, how does that sound?” he asked.

You smiled at him, your heart beating fast. But yet…you were touched. You put a hand over your chest and released an exhale.

“Professor that…that sounds wonderful…” you answered.

“Ah, excellent. Now- is that a deal?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

You gave him a smile and a small laugh.

“It’s a deal,” you replied.

You managed to get a counseling session scheduled for tomorrow. You went inside, sat, met the kind therapist, and smiled as you vented and cried out your feelings. When you went back to where you lived and spent your emotions, you crashed onto the bed. It was the best nap you had ever taken. 

You followed his advice. You broke down studying or writing essays and researching. You took more breaks. You had made flashcards with doodles for the tests and were catching on quickly. Your research was more fruitful and your essays were getting better in your eyes. You found you slept a bit better at night.

Each day as you sat in at 8 am, the Professor would smile at you and nod. You felt more like yourself again despite the looming deadlines. And they didn’t seem like a matter of life or death anymore. 

Everyone knows the week before finals are hell. To study and work so much with no time off from usual classes. But… you would still miss that 8 a.m. Shakespeare survey- and the handsome professor in his suits.

“Y/N, don’t be scared- you will be phenomenal,”  He gave you a wink that turned you into jelly.

Damn him. To think you would have dinner with him. You turned around to peek at him erasing the markerboard and glimpsing his curved bum,  how his hair curled at the back, and his broad back.

Yeah, now that was motivation to do well.

You studied and wrote with enthusiasm. You completed it all in due time. The essays were to your satisfaction.  When you settled at night, you cuddled his pillow. Remembering his smell- be it his shampoo or cologne, the mild, citrus scent. Fantasizing about him. Of dancing slowly at a formal event with you in an evening gown. Feeling his hand on your back and his head lowering down to touch your forehead. Of sharing ice cream. Being a damsel in distress for him to rescue. Then you thought of his body…. And the images changed to something naughtier. Wearing short skirts and showing up to his class. And him noticing. And lifting it up…

You conked right to sleep.

Finals week began. The entire campus knew it was stressful and went ridiculously out of their way to cheer up the students. But it was a lot of fun, you had to admit. Having dogs on campus to pet. Discounts on coffee. That Monday morning the cafeteria was packed with the free breakfast they offered. Once you brave the long lines for free food, you headed out to your first final. 

Professors, to your amusement, dotted around the campus. If they didn’t have a class to be in, they were handing little care packages while dressed in silly costumes. The sight amused you and made you smile.

Then walking up, you turned to the right and jumped at the sight with a happy, surprised gasp that became laughter. Professor Hiddleston himself wore a light, frilly tutu made for girls a quarter of his age over his pants, little costume fairy wings over his shirt,  and had a headband with little stars on top like ears. 

He turned towards you and his face turned bright pink. 

“Professor Hiddleston! What is this?!” you asked.

He opened up his arms to present his silly costume.

“We’re doing our anti-stress events! I am here to provide you with help with your stress!” he announced theatrically.

You put your hands akimbo and surveyed his costume up and down. If the class knew, they would lose it.

“And you’re doing it?!” you asked.

“Why not! I’m not a stick in the mud all the time! I can have fun!”

You laughed again.

“I should take a picture and send you to the group chat of our class!”

“I don’t see why not!”

He posed as you took a picture. 

“And how are you feeling?”

“I feel better! Much better now- I feel like I’m ready…”

“Good! It will be done soon! A bit at a time!”

He handed over a stress-free care package. Exchanging smiles, you continued by with a lighter step in your shoes. 

You went to every test outside of the pre-written essay. You knew what to do as you wrote short essays for the tests. You didn’t completely panic and wrote them as well as you could. When it came to every exam,  you felt you knew and understood the material. The week flew by. 

Sure enough, on that Friday, with shaking hands and a turning stomach, you looked up your grades. Taking in a breath right when the clock hit noon, you tapped a shaking finger on the mouse.  The link buffered on your computer to view them. Then it lit up with revelation. 

You passed them. You passed them all. In fact, you did very well. 

Your heart was racing but—you realized…you didn’t have his number. Only his email address. With the still nervous feeling…you emailed him, your professor.

“Hello Professor,

My grades were announced- and they’re all spectacular. I passed all of them. So…you made that promise…are you available for dinner?”

You sent it off. You could only ruminate for five minutes- his response was quick. 

“Of course, dear Y/N…

Here’s my number below… Meet me in my office. The parking lot isn’t far from it.”

You managed to text him immediately. You were giggling and pacing your room like a high schooler as your phone buzzed with his responses.  You re-read them as you paced about with your phone in your face. The high of your crush floating you into the clouds. You were going to go to a nice restaurant- one wasn’t finalized yet, but something nice. And that meant you had to look the part!

You were so excited. You made sure your makeup was how you liked and that your hair looked clean. You put on a part dress-one with a shorter skirt. It was too perfect not to. It was cut only a little low to show some mild cleavage. The collar was wide enough so that it showed your collarbones. It was nice, but flirtatious and romantic. It hugged you in a perfect fit while making you feel amazing and sexy. 

Sure enough, you went over to his office. The place was abandoned. All offices and buildings on the Friday of the Finals are in the early evening. You walked over and knocked on the door.

He opened the door and your heart almost stopped.

He was lovely. In his suit. His curls and that slutty goatee combed. Smelling fresh and clean. He still was in his blue suit- bringing out the blue in his eyes. Loving, beautiful.

“Ah, Y/N- please, come in,” he welcomed.

You followed suit. He closed the door. There was a second where you just looked at each other. Despite his goatee, you saw him biting his lip.

“Now, how about that dinner, Y/N…” he offered. “There’s La Gardeniera-suitable. A nice place for a special occasion as this…”

You gave him a shrug.

“I don’t care…anywhere…” you replied. 

“Anywhere? ” he asked.

He put his hands in his pocket and looked at you. It was a simple office- white and brown as many are. There was a bright window, the blinds turned over, as the setting sun’s rays fell over it. There was a small bust of Shakespeare and a pitcher with cups of water. His desk had a neat stack of papers, and annotated books all over it. Cozy and comfortable- like how he made you. 

“I just…I want to be with you…I don’t mind. Take me to a McDonalds and I won’t care…” you went on.

“Y/N…I…me?” he asked.

“Yes, you! We don’t even have to eat or…to, uh…I just…” the words were failing you and you felt your heart pick up. You looked down at the floors and then back up at him. 

“You want to…to be with me…” he walked forward curiously. But you did not retreat. Did not back away. You only met him in his blue eyes, welcoming him.

“Y/N…are you sure?” he asked.

He took a step closer. He was right before you. And you did not retreat. You met his gaze. So close. The tension between you.

“Professor Hiddleston, I am sure…I just want to be with you…anywhere…you just…make me happy…” you finally confessed.

“You make me happy too…” he murmured

He leaned forward, seeking permission. You gave a shaky nod. 

Then he kissed you.

 Something in you released. So long it was boxed up- now wild and free.  He immediately took his hands and ran them up and down you and you held onto him in the kiss. Feeling him as he deepened it with the wet sound of lips. Grabbing onto each other, releasing what had been held for so long. He released and then kissed you-again, then again. Like he was drowning and you were air. 

“Mphm- what-what were the grades?” he asked before kissing again.

You caught your breath and took a break still close to his lips. 

“Passed them. Flying colors,” you reported.

 He kissed you again, moaning into it. Then he broke it again.

“Well now…my little student…doing so well…” he rasped.

You grabbed him and heart racing you felt him kiss you. His facial hair scratched against you. He kissed you back. He backed you up.

“You’ve been…good…” he breathed, pressing you there into it. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. 

“Mphm- this feels…feels so nice…you’re a good kisser,” you whispered.

“I’m good at more than just kissing, my dear-”

He held you, pulling you close. He backed you to the door-holding you against him. He then reached a hand and turned over the lock. It was sealed with a click. His hands then returned to you. He cupped your cheeks, then it slid down your neck, and your chest, and then settled on your wasit. 

“I’ve…I’ve…God, I’ve wanted you so much…I…I don’t know if I…think I can…hold back…my dear, I-I-if you’re not…not ready, I’ll-”

“I don’t want to leave yet- let’s wait for dinner-take me. Fuck me here, now,” you begged. 

You didn’t need to say any more than that.  ou shuddered. He found your skirt and touched your leg, lifting it up. Feeling your skin, cold from exposure.

“All this…is all for me now…”

His hand reached over your leg. His long fingers possessively gripped each bit of flesh. Enjoying it- feeling you for the first time. Treasuring you and making his mark- you were his and his alone. He wrapped an arm around you and lifted you up onto that door. You let out a sound He then took your leg and guided it to wrap around his waist, holding onto him. You were so dripping wet you could feel his pants brushing your soaked panties. He held you easily-so, so easily. Just muscle and wall holding you and keeping you in place. He managed to lift you up- keeping you up with how pressed he was to you. How warm. Keeping him on you.

Your lips crashed again. You kept touching him. One hand finally touching his hair- his beautiful, long curls. The other kissing into him. In his suit, he began to ground against you now that you had nowhere to go away- not that you would leave. He kissed you with tongue and fire. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, wet noises and messy, desperate need.

“Tom…Tom, I-” you murmured.

He touched your chin, shushing you.

“We’re still in my office, my dear. And you will call me Professor,” he said.

He reached a hand down- feeling hte seat of your soaked panties. Smiling from teh effect already.

“Yes…yes, I will…” you breathed out. 

“Now- my little angel. She did so well…and she comes to me, so needy…so desperate-first for her finals and now for my cock-”

You held onto him, touching his tie. Pulling him up. You felt his erection stretching through his pants. The hooded eyes and soft voice, his hot breath. You gave him a smile- eager to have him. 

“I’m going to rip your clothes off and fuck you senselessly- and I want you- I never heard a thank you- I want to hear your gratitude for how I take care of you in every way…how does that sound? Too much for you?”

“It sounds wonderful for me-Professor,” you purred in response.

He wrapped an arm to help you up and carried you- legs around his waist.

. He then backed you over to his desk. He kept one by you- so close, so close. He took a hand and shoved aside the books and papers. It didn’t matter- now there was you. 

He pulled up your skirt. Desperately trying to find the zipper. Almost shaking in his long fingers. His erection seeping through his pants- he was so pent up.

“All that time. Wanting you. Feeling you near. Do you know how many nights I had to jerk off to imagine this- you! Seeing you- feeling you right there- my little beauty, angel, and siren at once.”

He shoved your dress off and down. Now in your bra and underwear. His hands went to under your straps- feeling them already- his bare flesh on your bare flesh. You were backed there.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you what?” he asked darkly.

“Th-thank you, Professor.”

He kissed you again. You were his little pet, his toy, his plaything. And you would please him- You held onto his shoulders. Grinding more into his body, He was still. Yet you heard his breaths, catching in his chest. He still remained clothed. 

Then in a rush, he gripped your bra.

“You won't need these- not with me.”

With a strength that made you gasp, He ripped your bra in half. He breasted so fast, panting like a beast. Looking down at your breasts.  Both large hands fondled them, moving them around. 

“Th-Thank you, Professor,” you whispered.

“But there’s one thing- one thing keeping me- from what I need” he growled.

He reached down, and in a second, he ripped your panties apart again in half. You gasped at the feeling. The cloth in two- uselessly falling apart.

“No bra- no panties when I see you -easier access- do you understand…I have a need for you, do you get it-”

“Yes- yes, sir.”

“Close- but not it. You forgot. And you’ll be punished.”

He turned you around, so your bare ass was shown. He immediately spanked you hard- it clapped around you. You let out a shout.

“It’s thank you-Professor.”

“Thank you Professor!” you cried out, feeling the sting. 

“And you will get it right!”

He spanked you again, harder. The momentum made you move against the desk, feeling your ass move with it. And feeling his greedy eyes all over your exposed skin.

“Th-Thank you, Professor!” you cried.

He pulled you back up but kept your back to his chest. He kissed your cheek, fondling you from behind, whispering in your ear.  

“If you don’t want another punishment-Tell me what I am-”

“You-you’re my-my-”

The words failed you. He leaned you down again and spanked you.

“You’re my professor!”

He spanked you again.

“Say it again- and say thank you-”

“Yes- yes- thank you, Professor…”

He grazed over you. Feeling you. You were catching your breath. Dripping so hard. He put his hands against your inner legs. 

“The more I do this- the more I see you, the more I’m with you, the more you- you torture me. I can’t stand it- I-I have to have you, Y/N- I have to, I have to-do you- do you want-”

You lightly turned your head over to see him and could have gasped. 

He unzipped his pants and lowered them. Already his cock was large and twitching. It leaked so much, that his precum made you shiver. It drizzled down and made a path down his leg. You clutched onto the desk, smiling and bracing yourself. 

“Yes- take me- take me on your desk, Professor…”

He smiled, and then his hand made you bend over it again. ‘

“Spread. Your. Legs.”

You were such a horny querying mess, he touched your legs so that they spread for him. Then finally, you felt him at your entrance, and inside. 

You let out a long groan- and so did he. As he got in - inch by inch. 

“Yes- yes all-ah!” you cried out as he got all of himself in you. 

He eased you in at first. Your legs again over. He gave a few gentle, experimental thrusts. It was slow, even sloppy. Each intrusion, poking you inside. You were making an appreciative groan. You ground your hips further against him. The room was hot and smelled thick with sex.

“There…you can take…take all your professor's cock, can you?” he growled.

“Yes-yes I can..”

He then made a sharp thrust inside and you cried out.

“Oh!”

He then experimented- hips rolling towards your ass. You let out sounds like you never heard yourself make. He then had a hand to keep you down. To keep you down And then he began to pick up. Slamming into you. Keeping you still, close, on him. 

“Nrg-nrgh- yes-there-fuck-there’s my-myfuck- good litlte student-nrgh-want to please me- hrng-begging-begging to-shit-yes-yes-darling-begging for me-”

You were moaning into it. Your body shakes forward and back from his thrusts. You felt yourself spiraling. Then he slowed. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. The pleasure was at a standstill, you caught your breath as you heard his hot voice right beside you.

“You have another order- cum only when I’m about to-cum when I tell you- yes?” he demanded

“Yes!”

“Yes, are you grateful!” He moved his hands to feel your arms. 

“I am- th-tahnk you, Pr-Professor.”

He went back up and began to thrust again. Slow- then medium. You let out those pornographic sounds out as he did.

“Fuck- what you do to me, darling,” he breathed out. 

He let out another gasp, his voice itching up in a groan and then back down. Then he slammed into you, letting out a loud voice. 

“Who is going to let you cum?  Who lets you cum when you’re a good girl?” he rasped. 

“My-my- fuck-professor will- will let me-cum-yes!

“Not yet- not yet-mine is-if-fuck, it’s building.-”

He spread your legs wide and entered you. Then he grabbed your hips. He began to pound into you. The desk shaking- the wall quivering. Slamming against that wall with a thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. He whimpered your name. You clung onto it, your knuckles popping out of you.

“Yes-Yes you are-beautiful little student- you are-g-grateful- fuck.-tight-so tight- shit-”

He was so deep, just rutting into you. He was an animal. Pure fucking you into the desk You felt the itch of his suit- the deepness of it. The papers scrambling away- scratching you. The pure ecstasy of it.

“And” thrust “tell me-” thrust “tell me this”- thrust “darling-”

He laced a hand, it reached your folds. You let out a whimper. He dug around- two fingers in-already feeling you. God- you weren’t going to last. He wasn’t going to like it, but you weren’t going to last. You let out a whimper as you felt him inside you.

“What” thrust “ is it” thrust”- “what is it- good” thrust “good girls do- ”thrust

“They-they-they get to-to-to come, Professor-”

“Yes! Yes-you're at my-my limit-gods-gods- what you do to me-You’ve been good-so good- I can’t-I can’t-so cum, darling-”

He strummed you. And you let out another intense gasp. He was strumming you. His fingers making you more open, his cock in, out, in out. You felt it build- he played with your clit so much. Trying the right place, You felt it rise, but not there. And he kept thrusting. A frustration in his rasp.

“Yes- dammit- why won’t you now? Why won’t-won’t you cum?! Cum, dammit- cum- darling- fuck, fuck- god- yes, gods, I’m there…I’m getting there, cum, dammit- why won’t you cum…”

With a new fury, he pounded against you into the desk- the filthiest, most intense thing you felt. The pleasure building up you, going up, up about to be out of control. 

“I’m- I’m going to-I’m going to-I’m going to cum, professor I-I-I”

It would spiral up, yes, but you had yet to reach it. You ground your hips further, moving from his thrusts, as his fingers were there- finding you at the still of your high and just needing your brink.

“Yes- God, yes-cum, darling-I order you, your professor orders you-Yes- yes, cum, girl, dammit- do it, cum, darling- fuck, I’m about to- do it- CUM!” he deamnded like a yell.

With a last shout you cried- “PROFESSOR!” and you came.

Spiraling down from the pleasure. It broke into chills over you-your voice left you and yet your heart was racing. You could feel him gushing into you and yet you could also feel the cum from your own body between your legs, on his fingers.  He panted. He then moved you over. You saw his hair wild and arrayed. You moved it out of his face.

He looked at you with a sweet smile then took your hand and kissed it. He sat you down on a chair and took off his jacket- putting it over you like a cape. Then he went over and got you a glass of water from the pitcher. 

His voice had softened, he kept touching your face, checking for any accidental bruises or marks.

 “How are you? Are you…are you alright, Y/N? I didn’t go too…too-”

“You were perfect- it was perfect,” you replied with a smile. The water wasn’t super cold- but it was fresh. 

He let out a sigh of relief. He then cupped your cheek. 

“You should see yourself how I see you. You’re glowing. Absolutely glowing-I had only hoped you were…were happy with it…”

He looked down at the ruined bra and panties.

“I’ll buy you another…” he muttered in apology.

“Oh- an orgasm and dinner and new bra and panties? You spoil me rotten already!” you teased.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and then he helped you back to dressing. 

“Here-we could…go back to my place and order something. At this rate, it might get late. I’m not that good of a cook-I was hoping a restaurant would impress you. I hope you don’t mind…”

“How could I, Professor?” you added, taking your hand in his. 

#fics #carrie writes #professor fics #prof! tom #prof! tom hiddleston #professor! hiddleston #professor hiddleston #tom my beloved #requests #prof! tom hiddleston x reader #professor hiddleston x you #smut #smut fanfic #smut fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #I can't believe I wrote this #professor hiddles #professor tom hiddleston #professor fic #professor hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader fic #tom hiddleston #loki #ao3 writer #loki fic #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddelson

[teddynottss]

teacher tom 😍

• - MY GOOD GIRL - •

PAIRING(S): prof tom riddle x student fem. reader

WARNING(S): jealousy, smut, teacher x student, extreme dominance, age gap, pet names during sex.

SUMMARY: you and prof. tom are in a secret relationship and when one of his students invites you to the yule ball in his own class, he doesn’t let that slide and punishes u for it.

A/N: thank you smm for all the support on my last post🫶, if anyone wants to be tagged in any of my posts lmk and if you have any ideas requests are open💗.

——————————————————

This year at Hogwarts, you got a new DADA teacher, as usual, professor tom. He was handsome, he was tall and muscular, his features all defined, one look at his eyes and you’d pass out. He was calm, but wise. He was smart and quiet unkind, he was never disrespectful though.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit of attraction toward the man, and to your surprise, you would always catch him glancing at you. He would also find ways to talk to you, after tests, during class, after class, whenever he saw you in the hallways, etc…

One time he asked you to stay after class, so you admitted your feelings and he kissed you. Thats how you got in a 4 month relationship with your DADA professor, however, you couldn’t tell anyone because he was a 24 year old Slytherin professor, and you were a 7th year Gryffindor student.

You get to class early today, your last one, defense against the dark arts (DADA), and to your surprise, ur early. You take a seat next to Hermione and Cormac walks up to you.

He had a big crush on you, and everyone in the school pretty much was aware of it, students, professors, all of them.

“Hii pretty girl” he spoke with a grin. “Heyy” you reply back nicely. “So the yule ball is coming around, and if you don’t have anyone to take you, i am more than happy to take you.” he said. “Of course Cormac, I’ll definitely think about it” you smile at him. “alright beautiful” he smiles back then he coughs.

Then he coughs again, and again, and again, and again, and he’s choking! He’s on his knees, coughing hysterically. Everyone gathers around him trying to stop the cough and as your eyes dart around the room, you find professor tom stood at the door, mumbling something, he was the one doing this!

You had to make it stop, “Professor!” you call out. “Help him, he just began choking” just then, Cormac stops choking and tom sprints across the room to him. He kneels down next to him, “just take him to the medical wing, he’ll be fine” this man was insane.

Just then, Neville and Ron help take him out of the classroom and the lesson begins. The whole time, your bf doesn’t look at you at all. Was he avoiding you?

Class finishes and you decide you wanted to talk to tom about this. You were the only student who knew where his room was so you decided to go and speak to him later tonight. The time came around and you got going. The halls of Hogwarts were quiet and empty at this time, dark and silent.

You arrived and knocked on the door, he opened the door and his eyes widened at your figure. “Why did you come here?” he asks. “We need to talk” you reply as you step in the room.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS TODAY?? ARE YOU OUT OF UR MIND?? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO THE POOR GUY, HE WAS STRUGGLING!” You speak, scream is more like it. “He fucking asked my girl to go to the yule ball with him.” He states.

“He doesn’t know we’re together!”. you point out. “The only person you’re going to the yule ball with is Neville!” “My cousin, seriously?” “Yes and i don’t want anyone else coming near you within a 50 mile radius or i will rip their intestines out one by one.” he’s still speaking calmly, he never shouts, never.

“Fuckk.. why would you even say you’d think about it beautiful, don’t you know ur mine?” He gets closer. “Im gonna have to punish you.” He then places his hand on ur waist and pulls you in. He kisses you hungrily and slips his tongue inside, fighting with urs for dominance.

You wrap ur arms around his neck as the kiss deepens, he then picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed. “Im gonna fuck this tight little pussy till you can’t walk, till everyone in Hogwarts hears my name, till Cormac learns to not touch whats not his.”

Just then, he begins removing your shirt as you stood in front of his bed. He takes his time, one by one, he removes your bra, pants, then panties.

He then pulls you in for another kiss and makes you sit on the bed, he kneels between ur legs, and he begins trailing kisses down your collarbone until reaching your breasts. He begins pleasuring both of them, starting with your left breasts. He leaves kisses all around your breast and then starts sucking on your tit.

He sucks hard, twirling his tongue around ur tit, cupping your other breast in his hand. He then moves to your other side, pleasuring it similarly. He cups the left one and pinches your tit between his fingers. You let out different sounds and moans of pleasure, loosing urself to the heat of the moment.

After he’s done, he pushes you further on the bed and he spreads ur legs, “now, tell me, whose wet pussy is this for?” he questions. “Y-yy-yours, tommy.” “Thats right, now let me show you why it’s wet, for me.”

He immediately dives in like a starved man and starts eating you out. He licks ur folds, twirling his tongue, pleasuring you well, very well.

You grab his hair, tugging at it. “Tommy, im so close,” you admit. He mumbles a quick mhmm into ur pussy and it sends shivers down ur spine. That was ur limit, you slam your hand on ur mouth, stopping urself from screaming, as you come into his mouth.

He smiles into ur pussy and swallows all you have to give, he then licks you clean before pushing two fingers in without any warning. You moan at the feeling and he immediately begins moving his fingers inside you, slowly.

He then adds a third finger and starts speeding his movement, “you will not go to the ball with anyone but neville, do u understand me.” you nod in response which he doesn’t approve of.

“Use your words darling” “i.. i won- i wont go to the ball with anyone b..but Neville” “my good girl” he says before kissing you again. This time it’s slow yet still hungry, full of lust. “You have another one in you, don’t you?” You nod and once again he sighs in disappointment. “Use ur words love” “I d.. do” you answer.

He then proceeds to speed his movement and you come for the second time tonight. He removes his fingers and shows you ur cum on his fingers before licking them clean.

You get up to the bathroom to clean urself before returning back to ur dorm. You could hardly walk, but once you got there, you turn the hot water on and jump in the shower.

A few seconds later, tom walks in with you, already stripped out of his clothes. You turn to face him and smile at him. Once he steps in, he speaks “wait here pretty girl, i said im gonna fuck u till u cant walk, till everyone hears my name, till Cormac understands to not touch whats not his, i don’t think I’ve done that yet, have i?”.

You shake ur head at him and he makes you face the wall. You feel him get closer and he breathes next to your neck, heat floods ur body as you feel his breath.

“Now listen to me, im gonna fuck you real good, but im going to need you to beg me for it.” he whispered. He then lines his throbbing, hard cock with ur entrance and starts kissing you. The kiss is heated and slow, ur tongues fighting for dominance.

“Come on riddle..” you say between kisses. “Come on what?” he teases. “Fff.. fuck me tommy please. I need you inside me, now!” “One more time beautiful.” “Fuck tom, get inside me now!” You arch ur back a bit, and to that, he smacks ur ass before pushing in you.

“Fucking brat” he spoke as he sped his movements. You cover ur mouth, blocking any sounds from leaving it when tom removes it. “I wanna hear all the pretty noises you make when i fuck you like a little whore.” To that you moan which makes him go even faster.

“Tommy.. can i c-cum p-p-p-please?” “Your third time tonight? Impressive darling, go ahead.” He speeds his thrusting, and grabs the shower head, he turns it on and he points it toward ur pussy and he rubs circles around your clit.

Just like that, you scream as you come, your nails piercing tom’s skin. “Fucking hell, doll” you both chuckled.

You later finished ur shower and ran back to ur dorm as u realized it was past curfew already.

#tom riddle #harry potter #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #slytherin boys #slytherin

[smirkingkitten]

Reading list Oktober 2023

pinterest @bellablues99 | Dividers by @cyaspeedy

Hey there,

The first month is already over since I decided not only to silently read here, but to actively comment and reblog fanfictions. It's a lot of fun.

And what a month it has been. The Loki series is finally out, and it was also kinktober. 🤤😏 So here is my first reading list, I plan to share a new list each month. Enjoy browsing and happy reading. 😊✨

Since I don't have many followers yet, please reblog this post to support all these wonderful writers by having more people see and read their stories.

✨And don't forget to reblog the storys you read to support all these lovely writers.✨

Series | Collections | Multi Parts

The Redbridge Hunts @fanficshiddles

2 Chapters (on going) | Vampire!Loki | fluff

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | more Ch. linked here

Summary: Claire moves to Demsdale to take up a new job as an assistant teacher for one Loki Laufeyson. She's also very intrigued with all of the rumours within the borough of Redbridge. However, as she starts to fall for Loki's charm and good looks, she also learns that all of the rumours might not just be rumours after all.

Prince Charming @immersed-in-mischief

8 Chapters (completed) | Avenger!Loki | angst, fluff

Falling in love with your best friend is always complicated, especially when said best friend is The God of Mischief. When you finally come to terms with the fact that it seems that Loki doesn't return your feelings, you allow yourself to start an online romance and move on. After making plans to finally meet in person, you discover that moving on won't be as easy as you thought.

Under Your Spell @holdmytesseract @multifandom-worlds

3 Parts (one shot collection) | Model!Tom | thirst, fluff, spicy

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (I haven't read yet, but nevertheless I want to link it)

Clandestine F*cks @lokisgoodgirl

25+2 Parts (completed) | Avenger!Loki | smut,

A secret relationship in Avenger's Tower is not an easy task, but with the insatiable Loki as your lover...is it an impossible one?

Hostile F*cks @lokisgoodgirl

21 Parts (completed) | Avenger!Loki | smut, thirst

Loki forever find new ways to irritate you in a selection of erotic outfits. Why is that so goddam irresistible?

One Shots

Exam aid @smolvenger

5k | Prof!Hiddleston | smut, dom/sub

In the Quiet of the Morning @sarahscribbles

3,1k | Asgard!Loki | fluff, smut

Exaltation @infinitystoner

2,2k | Asgard!Loki | smut, oral (m reserving)

A Prince's Release @lokisgoodgirl

1,9k | Asgard!Loki | smut, oral (m reserving)

The Devilish Professor @fanficshiddles

long | Prof!Hiddleston | smut, dom/sub, spanking, bondage

Eavesdrop @oliwrites

medium | Avenger!Loki | smut, soft dom/sub, thight riding

Twenty-Seven Wounds @smolvenger

3k | Coriolanus | comfort, fluff

What makes a princess @muddyorbsblr

3,4k | Avenger!Loki | fluff

S(cream) For Me @simplyholl and @wheredafandomat

Long | Avenger!Loki | smut, dom/sub, cnc, bondage, knife play

Jump "Scare" @ren-does-bullshit

medium | Sub!Loki | smut, dom/sub, anal

Hide & Seek @holdmytesseract

3,1k | Tom Hiddleston | fluff, smuttsh

Paris @muddyorbsblr

1,5k | Jonathan Pine | fluff, smutty

Drabbles

My Loki @wheredafandomat

700 | TVA!Loki | smut

I belong to you @wheredafandomat

short | Vampire!Loki | smut

Kinktober One Shots

Cum Play @sarahscribbles

1,4k | Loki | smut, oral (m reserving)

Humiliation and Exhibitionism @sarahscribbles

2,4k | Asgard!Loki | smut, dom/sub

Somnophilia @sarahscribbles

1,4k | Avenger!Loki | smut

Breeding @viviluvssmut

1,4k | Jotun!Loki | smut, dom/sub

Playroom @notyetneedcoffee

medium | Loki | smut, dom/sub, bondage, spanking

Headcanons

The Avengers Movie Loki vs Tva Loki @lokisbiiiitch1993

The First Time @lokisbiiiitch1993

Squirting @lokisbiiiitch1993

✨Happy reading 😊✨

Back to my Fanfiction Bookshelf

Many of the fanfictions are 18+, so if you're under 18, don't read them.

#hiddleston #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #one shot #multi chapter #drabble #headcanon #loki #loki laufeyson #smut #loki smut #fluff #loki fluff #avenger loki #fic recs

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Oooh! Thank you so much for this!

Adoration - T. R. x fem!Reader

This was the first smut I ever wrote and the story that really started to gather followers. It’s still my favorite so far. Just the sheer angst of it all was cathartic to write

Bullied - Prof. T. R. x platonic gn!Reader

Ugh, I love this story! It practically wrote itself; I was so obsessed with the story idea. I love protective Tom almost as much as I love feral Tom

Stargazing - B. Z. x male!Reader

I love Blaise so much. Writing this had me falling in love with him even more

Just Cuddling - T. N x male!Reader

It’s Theodore Nott and teasing with the other boys. Honestly, my favorite fic for banter

Crush - L. B. x male!Reader

This fic still gives me butterflies to read! Just Enzo’s cuteness and how in love with the reader he is

#thank you so much for the ask! #this actually really helped remind me about all the things i love about my stories #slytherinboysappreciation loves pizzaapeteer #ask game #fic recs

[babyrys777]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

mostly tom riddle oneshots as of now. all oneshots/fics were once posted on wattpad or are on wattpad.

i take requests ☆

-

-

smut - 

TOM RIDDLE 

mine ;  unprotected seggs, rough seggs and rough!tom, public seggs, choking, slight degradation, angry seggs, dark tommy. don’t read if uncomfy. 

teachers pet ; prof!y/n  x tom riddle 

for the camera, of course (p2) ; cam girl y/n 

for the camera, of course ; cam girl y/n 

s3x god ; sex expert y/n + virgin tom 

happy birthday ; birthday sex 

is it big ?  ; i dont fucking remb what this was abt 

toys   ; sub y/n + implied degration + masturbation 

punishment ; spanking + degradtion 

delicious drinks  ; y/n drinks toms cum 

only you my darling ; i forgot 

honeymoon  ; tom and y/n fuck on they honeymoon 

DISCLAIMER; i didn’t link all of the oneshots i have posted on here yet but they will be added eventually (i also just dk how to work tumblr) + more oneshots with different people will be added. 

P.S. / i post whenever i feel like it

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle

[animasola86]

Reinventing my Gryffindor MC: Genevieve Belette

Getting immersed in my first proper longfic for the fandom again, The Darkness Within, I went and changed my Gryffindor MC up a little. Her backstory/my headcanons for her are still somewhat the same, she just looks a little different. (Thank goodness for mods!) (That fic portrays an older version of her, where she's 21/23, and it's NSFW! Just FYI!)

Name: Genevieve Belette

brown eyes * ginger * 1.55m/155cm (5′1“) * Gryffindor

born on April 1, 1875 on the outskirts of London

Aries (who is determined, courageous, charismatic, honest, passionate, energetic, impatient, impulsive)

was born a Weasley: Father was a Weasley, mother a Rosier (making her a pure-blood, despite being born a Squib), and when she didn't receive her Hogwarts letter at age 11, she was sent to live with non-magical relatives (the Belettes) in France, who practically adopted her, where she stayed until she turned 15

has a strained relationship with her parents and even though they somewhat accepted her back into the family after she found her magic, she still holds a little bit of a grudge (and will keep the name of her adoptive parents)

has a scar on her right cheek (was a reckless child who tried everything to awaken her magic, but failed, mother refused to heal her wound properly and left her with that scar, sent her away shortly thereafter)

was taught to be a proper lady in France (had a house teacher) and it took her a while to get used to the fact that girls wore trousers in Hogwarts

is an introvert (grows up to be quite the opposite though)

has a severe fear of heights, hates flying

is very helpful, but reckless in doing so, prefers to be alone, but allows a certain extrovert to accompany her on her adventures

had a crush on Professor Sharp before falling for Sebastian

How she looks:

Face 001, Skin color 022 Hair color: Dark Ginger, Eye color: Medium Brown Eyebrow shape 006, Eyebrow color: Dark Ginger Freckles 3, Complexion Type 3, Scars: Lines on right cheek

Mods I used:

Wednesday Addams Inspired Makeup Variations (no lipstick version) Custom Hair Very Long 41 (no bangs version)

Notes:

Yes, she is basically Ginny Weasley with her twin brothers' birth date, I was very creative when naming and creating her XD (belette is also the French word for weasel, so, there's that) Rosier was/is a pure-blood family originating in France in HP canon, but I HC that those relatives come from the Weasley side. And even though she is related to Garreth and Prof Weasley, it is very distant and they might not know about it due to their vast family tree and her name change (and her mother's influence, the Rosiers were much stricter and Darker and I can imagine her mother had cut the ties to her husband's family because she didn't think as open as the Weasleys did).

More on her life during Hogwarts can be read in my very first, now abandoned HL fanfic Diary of a Snake Lover on FF.net.

Post-Hogwarts (spoilers for The Darkness Within):

dies after having absorbed Isidora's magic because her soul was too pure to handle the darkness, is resurrected by Sebastian and ends up in the future - found by Tom Riddle

is easily influenced by others, lets the darkness within get the better of her and turns her life around completely: becomes manipulative, seductive, knows what she wants, gives her life to Tom's cause and recruits for him with every means possible (basically uses her body and Dark magic)

has forgotten/suppressed everything prior (manipulated by Tom)

is very conflicted once she remembers her former life thanks to Sebastian's intervention

her fate is yet to be determined!

Read more about her and Sebastian's trip to Tom Riddle's timeline right here: The Darkness Within.

The story is hosted on AO3, but here are Chapter excerpts posted on Tumblr (careful, they are NSFW!):

Chapter 6 (fluff) here Chapter 7 (smut) here Chapter 8 (angsty smut) here Chapter 9 (TomxMC smut) here

I also tried recreating my story during an AI RP session with a Tom Riddle bot, can be read here: Magical Fingers (also NSFW, sorry!)

Showcase for my Ravenclaw MC Nebbia DeLuca

Fanfiction Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #mc showcase #gryffindor #Genevieve Belette

[your-divine-ribs]

How they like to go down on you…

Character headcanons for Red, The Devil Next Door, Forbidden (Prof Van and Prof Bond), Ice Cold and Dad Van (I might add some more of my characters later)

Words: 2k // there’s smut… as the title would suggest!

Character Headcanons Main Masterlist

Red

❤️ Van wishes he could spend an eternity between your thighs... regrettably that's a luxury that both of you aren't able to experience.

❤️ With the constant threat of being caught, every encounter you two share is secretive and rushed. The thrill of the risk and the sheer wickedness of what you're doing though just heightens everything.

❤️ You have to take advantage of those snatched moments of bliss, whether it's pressed up against the sink in the bathroom at parties or furtive hookups in the shadowy backrooms of gig venues.

❤️ Now you're making fuck-me eyes at Van over the breakfast cereals when he wanders downstairs with just a towel wrapped around his slim hips after his morning shower.

❤️ You've been trying so hard to be good, but the sneaky fucker knows exactly what he's doing to you by parading around in front of you like this.

❤️ You don't miss the deliberate way he rolls his tongue over his bottom lip as he meets your hungry gaze, your panties soaking through with thoughts of what you want him to do to you.

❤️ As soon as Larry announces he's heading upstairs to take a shower Van launches himself at you, dragging you out of your seat and lifting you up so you're perching on the edge of the kitchen counter, tugging the oversized t-shirt you'd worn to sleep in up around your hips.

❤️ "Oh my god Van," you hiss as you pull away breathless from a heated kiss, your heart pounding as he pushes your legs wide apart. "What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't fuck now! Larry's literally just upstairs!"

❤️ "Who said anything about fucking?" He smirks at you, nimble fingers hooking under the seam of your panties, pulling them to one side.

❤️ He sinks down on to his knees in an instant, never breaking eye contact with you as he licks a teasing trail up your inner thighs, his tongue darting out to swirl over your clit.

❤️ He eats you out like a starving man, his tongue making the wettest, sloppiest sounds that have you gripping his hair and biting down hard on your bottom lip to stifle your moans.

❤️ "Come on babe, you gonna come all over my face?" He mutters in between lapping at your bud and sucking it between his puckered lips, his eyes fixed on yours the whole time.

❤️ You fall apart for him right there and then on the kitchen counter, thighs clenching around his head as he smirks greedily against your wetness, licking up every last drop.

The Devil Next Door

❤️‍🔥 Van's spent so many nights dreaming about you... how you'd taste, the pretty noises that you'd make, the feel of you trembling under his touch as he held your bucking hips down as you came all over his tongue.

❤️‍🔥 It's his favourite fantasy that keeps him awake at night and if he ever gets the chance to turn it into reality he's sure as hell going to pull out all the stops to make you feel good.

❤️‍🔥 Basically, you're not leaving that bed until you've come at least four times. Anything Tom can do he can definitely do better.

❤️‍🔥 He's dreamt about tasting you in every conceivable position, flat on your back with his head between your thighs, slumped against the wall with a leg crooked up over his shoulder, on your knees gripping on to the headboard so he can spread your cheeks and eat you out from behind... but imagining you sitting on his face is his personal favourite.

❤️‍🔥 He wants to coax out the fiery side of your personality, the part that knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it. The one that's not afraid to use him for your own pleasure.

❤️‍🔥 All he can think about is you hovering over him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you grind yourself down against his eager tongue, your shaky moans and sighs filling the air.

❤️‍🔥 Fuck... he needs you so bad. He wants to drown in you. He knows he wouldn't be able to stop until you were whimpering and crying out from the sensitivity, anchoring you firmly in place with his strong hands wrapped around your thighs.

❤️‍🔥 "Just one more... just for me... please. God, I love the way you taste."

Forbidden - Prof Van

🖤 Just because he loves to tease and deny you it doesn't mean that he doesn't like to give you your pleasure... as long as you beg for it prettily enough.

🖤 Unfortunately for you... or fortunately depending on how you look at it... begging like a needy little slut is only going to land you in big trouble.

🖤 Thirty minutes later you're lying spreadeagled on his desk, your wrists bound and ankles secured to the desk legs to keep them apart whilst he brings you to your fourth shuddering high with his skilled tongue.

🖤 You're wet through with a combination of sweat, cum and saliva, the papers on his desk beneath you soaked with your juices.

🖤 "What's up baby?" He raises his head to coo up at you, long fingers still pistoning in and out of your wetness, making you whine. "You wanted to come didn't you?"

🖤 You try to tell him it's too much but you can't speak, your words choked by your panties which he's torn off you and thrust roughly into your mouth to stifle your sounds.

🖤 All you can do is whimper and writhe and take it like the good girl he wants you to be... and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Forbidden - Prof Bond

🧡 When Van's not around to influence him his gentle side comes out and he likes nothing more than to take his time with you and please you.

🧡 Soft kisses and gentle nips to your inner thighs over and over until you're trembling in anticipation, your hands buried in his dark curls, trying to manoeuvre and guide him to where you need him the most.

🧡 You whine needily even though you know it'll be worth the wait, laying back against his desk whilst he works you into a seething mass of desire with his teasing touches.

🧡 "Fuck... Sir! I really need you! Please..."

🧡 "Patience love, I've got you," he murmurs, his warm breath fanning over your hot, slick skin as he speaks, making you shiver.

🧡 No one turns him on like you. He swears he could practically come in his pants just from going down on you.

🧡 So when he finally gets to his goal he really goes to town on you, hot wet licks laving up and down your slit, pushing inside whilst his nose bumps up against your clit.

🧡 He really likes drawing it out, thoroughly running his lips and tongue over your most sensitive spots, slowly kissing, licking and sucking until you're shaking uncontrollably below him.

🧡 He loves to feel you pulsing on his tongue as you fall apart, the sensation of you clenching around his fingers as you grind against him, taking what you need.

Ice Cold

💙 Van may be a brutal cold-hearted killer, but there's a softer side to him that lurks underneath all that darkness that only you can draw out.

💙 The man worships the ground you walk on so he's sure as hell going to worship your body.

💙 Even though he likes to take charge in your sexual encounters, he never puts his pleasure before yours. He wants you to need him. You're his and his alone and no one else gets to make you feel this way.

💙 He has the fingers and tongue of a god, and you've never felt a pleasure so intense. He'll spread you wide open, the tip of his tongue circling your bud until your legs are shaking, then he'll move away.

💙 He likes to take his time with you, edge you until your moans and sighs turn needy, the sound of his name falling from your lips like the sweetest music he's ever heard, a soft plea he can't resist.

💙 So he gives in to you, his own personal kryptonite. His tongue laves hungrily over every wet inch of you in hot, searing strokes whilst his slender fingers fuck into you at a torturous pace, making your eyes roll.

💙 You're so wet you're leaking all over the sheets, your hips rising and falling like a wave as you ascend to a heavenly high, crying out as you climax.

💙 "Baby, I swear I could die right now a happy man," he mumbles into your skin as he kisses his way back up your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

💙 You feel dazed as he rises up to hover over you and you push his hair back to clearly see his face, taking all of him in.

💙 He looks so pretty like this and he takes your breath away, all his hard edges softened, his eyes clouded with lust and his red lips glistening with your arousal.

Dad Van

💗 You'd thought that having kids would dampen the passion that you and Van shared, that maybe he'd see you more as a mother than a desirable partner.

💗 Turns out you didn't need to worry, in fact watching you birth and nurture his children has just strengthened your bond, not just emotionally, but physically too.

💗 He can't keep his hands off you but you're always wary of the kids catching you, especially your daughter Grace who's a terrible sleeper and has a habit of wandering into your bedroom to get into your bed when she's had a bad dream.

💗 "Not tonight Van," you sigh, trying to twist out of his arms as you hear restless whimpers emanating from the room next door. "Can't you hear Gracie? Sounds like she's having one of her nightmares again."

💗 He pauses to listen but not for long, distracted by how beautiful you look bathed in the moonlight filtering in through a gap in the curtains. "She's still asleep love, we'll be fine."

💗 You go to protest, but your words catch as he dips his head to scatter kisses up and down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point which he knows drives you wild. "C'mon babe... just a little taste... please..."

💗 And who are you to deny him when he makes you feel so good? So you let him duck under the duvet, rucking up your silky slip and dragging his lips softly over your skin until he settles himself between your spread legs.

💗 He starts off slow, little kitten licks concentrated on your sweet spot, building your pleasure nice and steady, breaking off every once in a while to press featherlight kisses to your inner thighs whilst you catch your breath.

💗 "Ahh Van..." you gasp, hands fisting at the bedsheets as he increases his efforts in tune with your body, wetter, firmer flicks of his tongue on your swollen clit when your body begins to twitch and your hips start to roll.

💗 It feels so damn good you want to scream the house down but of course you can't, screwing your eyes shut and biting down on your lip as the blinding pressure builds in your core...

💗 "Mummy! Daddy! I can't sleep! It's the monsters again!"

💗 Fuck! The urgent cries precede the patter of tiny feet as Grace bursts into your bedroom, eyes wide and brimming with unspilt tears. You scrabble to hoist yourself up awkwardly in bed, knocking Van away in the process.

💗 "It's okay sweetie, there's no monsters, it's just a dream!" You reach out to her but she hesitates, frantic eyes darting away from you and all around the room.

💗 "Where's Daddy?"

💗 Van emerges from under the covers, hair dishevelled, lips swollen and glossy, cheeks flushed scarlet. "I'm here angel! I was just... err... just helping Mummy with something..."

💗 You're in hysterics on the inside as you reach out to give your daughter a comforting hug, watching Van slide carefully out of bed and side-step to the en-suite bathroom to conceal a massive boner.

💗 "I'm just... errr... just going to... umm... take care of something," he mumbles as he goes.

#character headcanons #van mccann x reader #johnny bond x reader #au fanfic #vanfic #smut

[hoodieofholland]

Professor Tom x cheerleader reader ( part 2?)

- the reader goes and takes his exam, she decides to wear her uniform, she gets a good score on the test, and after class Tom gives her a reward

( sexual tension when he sees her in the uniform and then smut after class )

A/n: this was WILD to write, and i luv it. This is loooong, so prepare yourself!

Warnings: smut (+18, dni if you're a minor), oral (f rec), fingering (f rec), protected sex, little praise kink, little sir kink.

"Alright, people, we'll get started as soon as you're ready to take the test", Tom says as he prepares the amount of paper on his desk, flipping through them to make sure everything is set up for the first exam in the semester.

The students are taking their seats, a small crowd whispering and whimpering loudly as they nervously make their own preparation for the most feared day of the year.

Mr. Holland rests his arms, crossed over his chest, as he takes a look to the class before grabbing the papers, his eyes looking for a specific student on their own desire. He didn't want to even think about it, to make it more clear to himself, but he was looking for you. Miss y/n, his most brilliant student, always perfectly on time, was late today. He pondered about taking his time to give the exam, so he could give you a few more minutes to arrive, but he didn't want to be more unprofessional than he was already feeling like.

He sighed in frustration, but before he could start walking around the class to hand out the papers, the door cracked open and you walked in.

Tom's eyes flipped immediately at you, jaw tightening as soon as he looked at the way you were dressed to attend his test.

It wasn't exactly warm outside, but you were wearing your cheerleading outfit now, a tight short yellow skirt, an equally tight gym top and yellow socks that reached your knees, letting your thighs bare. It wasn't warm, yet you chose to wear the outfit that left little to imagination.

Tom's eyes widened, caught out of guard. You were naturally gorgeous, in your very formal and usual clothes, the ones you wore for classes, but right now... right now you were beyond anything he has seen in that classroom.

"Sorry, Mr. Holland", you smiled apologetically. However, there was a hint of a smirk on the corner of your lips, result of the joy you were feeling for your professor's reaction to your entrance. "I got lost on time"

Sure you could make the important test on time, but it wouldn't give you all the attention you wanted as soon as you stepped Mr. Holland's class. It took you the entire night to figure out that was what you wanted since you two changed words in his car, but when you finally chose to give it a try, you decided to wear that same outfit from practice, regard from the sweater you were wearing back then to protect you from the coldness. Now, you left your arms exposed, breasts beautifully hugged by the material of your top and even a small part of your stomach bare, since the skirt only covered to your waist.

Tom knew he should give you an advertence for being late, and he was sure that if it was any of his other students, he would have done it. But Tom also knew he treated you differently, and not only because you were his best student - also because he was attracted to you in many ways.

This is so wrong, he thought to himself, but couldn't help the words that was slipping out of his mouth.

"It's okay, Miss y/l/n. Take a seat, we're about to get started".

You do as you're told, taking the nearest seat to his desk, the one that usually people avoid to not get so close to the professor. The small crowd of girls that were always excited to watch Mr. Holland in his classes and always made sure to seat close to him, now were in the back, too scared of the exam to pay some attention to the hot man.

You were fine with it. After studying a whole night, you were confident you were going to do well.

Mr. Holland handed you the paper and couldn't help but exchange look with you. Your legs felt weak for a moment, staring into those beautiful bright brown eyes, but you regained some composure before concentrate on test again.

***

A week passed since your test, and Professor Holland was set to start his class sharply on time, as always. This time, you didn't wear your cheerleading clothes, but still got a bit more dressed up than necessary for class.

Mr. Holland saw the moment you crossed the door, a small smile covering your lips. He stared at it for good five seconds straight until you took your seat.

"Good morning, everyone!", he said, clearing his throat as he got up from his desk to start his lecture. "I already finished grading your tests, so I'm going to hand it to you with my notes by the end of this class".

You crossed one leg over another, too caught up on your thoughts about your professor to actually care about the class. You knew it was useless to struggle to pain any attention to what he was saying. Though his abilities speaking and explaining were undoubtedly amazing, Tom's charm was distracting itself, and even worse when he spent the whole morning eyeing you every now and then.

You weren't so convicted that there was something really happening there, but you couldn't help the excitement running through your veins each time he gave you a side look, as if he was trying to avoid it.

By the end of the class, you were packing your things, slowly, as you weren't excited at all to go to your next class. Most people did their way out of the classroom, only a few small groups being left. You've already received your test back, being extremely satisfied with your high score, though a lot of your classmates couldn't tell the same.

So when you got up from your seat and walked to the door's direction, you were surprised to hear Mr. Holland's voice.

"Miss y/l/n, can I please have a word with you about your test?"

You blink a few times, suddenly nervous with the subject. A lot of thoughts passed through your mind, asking yourself if maybe he made a mistake and your score wasn't that high after all. Maybe he thought that you cheated on the test, maybe-

"Miss y/l/n?"

Your heartbeat is fast by now, and you watch as the few students leave you behind with Mr. Holland facing you sternly.

You gulp. Damn, you think to yourself, he's going to warn me, I was staring at the man the whole fucking day. He's going to punish me for being such a-

"Yes, Mr. Holland", you walk to his desk, test on your hand, that is slightly shaky. Mr. Holland look at the paper and shows his hand so you could give it to him.

He's wearing his usual clothes - the only type of wearing you've ever seen him in - a black sweater, sometimes with a turtleneck, and some really nice trousers. Mr. Holland was always dressed up in a not very casual set of clothes, but you liked it. It matched his professional and intelligent look.

"What's the matter, Mr. Holland?", you can't help yourself from asking, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. "Is something wrong?"

He looked distracted for a moment, flipping through the papers, as his eyebrows lift an his eyes avert from your writing.

"No, no, Miss y/l/n. There's nothing wrong here", he smiled warmly at you, eyes bright as always.

You sigh in relief, but still don't get the point at why he called you after class. "So..."

"I was just going to congratulate you, for your grades. But I'm also really curious about how you deal with it all", he rests his index finger and thumb over his chin, the trace of his smile still there. "You know, cheerleading at day, brilliant student at night".

You take a few seconds to realise that was the casual tone he used with you in his car, while he drove you home. He was just being friendly, not professionally. He must have liked the talk you both had, and that caught you out of guard.

Because no matter the fact that you dressed up to his test to get his attention, no matter how much confidence you had walking in his class, right now, with his bright brown eyes staring at you, all you could feel was your knees going weak, your mouth slightly dry.

"Well, I got the best professor in the department, so... not so hard", you smile, tugging your hand on the strap of your backpack.

Mr. Holland chuckles and shakes his head, collecting the papers and handing it back to you.

"And how is the TA work going? Are you enjoying it?"

You bite your lip slightly. You wanted to tell the truth, that you were expecting to see him more while doing this, that it was one of the main reasons why you accepted the job, but you wouldn't dare to say it out loud.

"Yeah, it's great. Don't think being a professor is my thing, though, for all that matters. It's a valid experience", you shrug.

Tom shakes his head in agreement, and both of you fall silence, staring at each other. Your eyes slowly avert to his lips, his thin yet tempting lips. It's just a matter of seconds until he speaks again.

"So, you're free to go now. Don't want you to miss your next class", he says as he gets up from his seat to get his belongings together. You look at his hands working, the prominent vein on his arm showing, and gulp.

"Fuck, wish I could be dismissed from that one", you whimper without realising what you're saying. Mr. Holland looks at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"Watch your language, y/n, I'm still your professor", he says in a stern voice, but you can see the joy on his eyes. He's joking.

So you decide to play along.

Bitting your lips, you cross your arms over your chest, a sassy expression on your face.

"Then why are you calling me by my name, Mr. Holland?", you tease innocently, and he turns his head to look at you. Discreetly, his eyes go to your lips, the way your teeth are grazing over it, just like he wished he could do-

"Clever remark". He smirks. "But you've told me to, remember?"

"Right", you bounce back and forth on your feet. "Does it make us friends or something?"

Mr. Holland looks at you with a puzzled face, quite intrigued by your speech and how casual you sound about it.

"Well, that would not be very professional of me", he said, eyes not leaving your figure, slightly narrowed.

"But that's not something that would bother me, Mr. Holland", you smile. "And I'd never judge you anything but strictly professional, if that matters".

His smile widens. "Yeah, it does". Tom puts some papers inside of folders that he brought to the classroom. He paused, staring at the desk as if he was far in his thoughts. "Tell me, Y/N, is it really that weird if we get to like each other? I mean, more than a student gets to like her favorite professor?"

You heart loses a beat, not entirely prepared for the subject to switch so quickly.

"I don't- think so", you say as soon as you find your voice.

Tom's shoulder visibly relax. "Good. Cause I really like spending time with you".

He throws his bag's strap over his shoulder and look at you, who's standing a lot closer now.

"Can I ask you something?", you say, barely in an audible voice. Tom nods.

You can sense everything now - the heat radiating from his body, his not so regular breathing, the way he clench his hand around the strap of his bag as a reaction to your question. It's all just under your nose, waiting for his confirmation that what was going on between the two of you was real.

But maybe you didn't have to ask it. Maybe that's what would end up bringing you two to nothing but a blushing face. So you decide otherwise. You decide to take a step further and ignore the discomfort on your stomach that almost yells you to stop as an instinct. You swallow hard as you walk closer to Mr. Holland. He watches your every move cautiously, eyes travelling from your eyes to your hands and chest, and then your lips.

That's it, you tell yourself, he wants it too.

And as easy as it is for you to realise you had a big fucking crush over your English professor, you can see that he does like you too.

You drop your backpack slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. "If this is messed up, please tell me to stop", your voice is a whisper, but he can hear it, he can hear everything. He can hear your breathe coming harshly from your nose.

He hesitates, but at the end he knew he couldn't fight that anymore. Mr. Holland brings his hand to your waist and the other to cup your cheek. His bag is now on the floor, matching yours. There's a frown between his brows, deep enough to make it clear that he's going through an inner fight.

"That's okay", you say, looking directly into his eyes, a wave of confidence bringing the words freely through your lips. "I want it as much as you do".

Your faces get closer and closer, noses touching one another, and you start to close your eyes, too taken by the feeling of his touch.

"This is wrong", he whispers before swallowing.

You shakes your head negatively, inhaling the air that was filled with his scent. "No... just shut up and kiss me, Tom".

That was what he needed to bring his lips to touch yours vigorously, like he was holding himself much longer than just the couple of minutes the two of you spent together. You sigh as soon as you feel his thin lips hovering yours ever so slightly before clashing then together in a rhythmic slow burning kiss.

His presence was everywhere, his touch on your waist, still burning over the fabric of your shirt. His tongue makes its way to your mouth, finding yours.

The realization of the fact that you were making out with your professor in his classroom hit you hard, turning you on even more. Anyone could walk in and find the two of you in that state, your hands tugging on his curls, messing his once perfectly tidy hair, your lips fighting to feel one another in every way possible and your desperate whimpers every time Tom lowered his head to kiss your neck.

The wet path of his smooth kisses over the sensitive skin shivers in contrast with the cold air.

"Been dreaming 'bout this forever", Tom's accent is even thicker now, with his voice coming out husky. "Since you first talked to me, darling, since you first walked in my class".

You moan, unable to say something more, your hands clenching around the fabric of his sweater.

His face is now on the same level of your again, and when you feel his breathing hitting you, his hands cupping your face, you open your eyes slowly.

"I want you", he says it quietly, word by word in a slow flow, "But I want you to tell me if you want it too. I don't want to pressure you into anything, and I don't want you to think that I do this with my-"

"I do", you cut him off, too desperate to wait. "I want you, Tom"

Hearing you calling him by his name made Tom snap out of his own worried thoughts to concentrate on you and you only. He took your lips on his once more before saying in a quiet hurried whisper.

"Meet me in my office in five minutes. Not more, not less, just be there in five minutes".

His face held a serious expression and you couldn't help but nod quickly before he grabbed his bag, eyes never leaving your face, and walked out of the classroom.

You were left there, still out of breath, checking time up to count the most long five minutes of your entire life.

Thinking straighter, without your professor's mint scent filling up your senses, you couldn't believe that it actually happened. Only God knows how many times you caught yourself daydreaming of this day, of how sometimes you'd get yourself off by the thought of Mr. Holland having his way with you.

You walk out of the classroom and wait at one of the aisle's bench, holding your backpack tightly. The corridor was empty and you were thankful that no one was able to see your excited and nervous expression. By this moment, you wouldn't be able to hide it anymore.

So when your watch hit five minutes, you almost jumped from the bench and walked down the hall, looking for the stairs to the next floor, where you knew Mr. Holland's office was.

It was gladly at the end of the hallway. A very nice wooden board held the description "Prof. Thomas S. Holland", making your knees go weak at the realization that he was right there, waiting for you.

You almost knocked on the door, but thought it was dumb anyways, so you just turned the handle before entering the room.

Tom was standing by his desk, his back facing you. You could see the hard breathing he had by the way his shoulders were moving heavily.

"Please, don't tell you are overthinking it", you say in a low voice, closing the door quietly behind you.

Tom turns his head and smiles sweetly at you. "I'm not", he says.

You don't know what to do by now, so you just stand at the door, holding the strap of your backpack, that's hanging by your hand. Mr. Holland makes his way to you, taking his hand to cup one of your cheek, thumb caressing the skin softly.

"You're so gorgeous", he whispers.

The room is dark, only illuminated by the din light from a lamp on his desk. You can see everything, though, from his slightly moves to the small frown on his face. You flutter your eyes close as he lean into you, lips brushing over yours in a tempting way.

His hands travel to your waist, fingers deepening in your skin, making you whimper against his mouth.

You put your hands around his neck, brining him impossibly closer, and hear him groan.

Tom smashes your lips together, tongues not wasting time to collide in a passionate kiss. Yours fingers lock with his curls, pulling gently as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

"Shit", you moan against him, feeling the wet patch on your panties growing even more. Your walls are clenching at the thought of being so close to touch your professor inside his office.

Tom takes you abruptly, supporting your weight as he carries you to his desk, putting you to sit on it.

His hands are quick to undo the first buttons of your shirt. However, before he continues, his eyes search for yours, asking for approval, which you quickly give by shaking your head fervently. "Please", you whimper, squirming under your makeshift seat.

Tom smirks before continuing his work, the tip of his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your breasts as he does.

He opens your shirt, revealing the black bra that held your breasts tightly. Lowering his head, Tom lets a trail of wet kisses along the way from the base of your neck to your covered nipples.

"Please, Sir. The more I like this... I don't want foreplay right now".

Tom arcs an eyebrow at you, the pad of his fingers massaging each one of your nipples, pushing the bra's fabric aside.

"You know you don't have to call me sir now, Y/N", he says in a husky voice, a smirk in the corner of his thin lips. His eyes were glistening in pure lust as he saw you opening your legs further to get his body closer to yours. "But you want to, don't you? You like it, calling me sir. You like the thought that your professor is about to fuck you".

You bite your lip to suppress a moan, your core throbbing with desire simply for his words.

He grabs the back of your thighs and squeeze them, pulling your lower half into him. "Who would know that such a good student would be so fucking naughty", his hand goes up your bare thigh, getting closer to where you desired his hands the most.

"Please, Tom. Just- just do something". You beg him, as you watch your skirt going up, revealing your soaked panties.

Tom smiled wickedly, "Thought you wanted it to be sir instead". You're about to give him a wise answer, but then you feel his thumb pressing directly into your clothed clit, and swallow hard the lump that formed in the back of your throat.

"Damn it", you curse, opening your legs even more.

"You're so fucking wet", he states, looking to your center. You put one of your legs over the desk, allowing him to take a better look and to get a better position with his hands. "Bloody beautiful"

Tom kneels down on the floor, looking directly to your center, which made your pussy throb again in expectation. His breathing is so close to your heat that you can feel the shiver running down your spine as he gets closer.

"Is that okay, darling?" He looks into your eyes, asking for permission, and you nod yes firmly. Tom smirks, his lips connecting with your pussy. You release a moan just in right in time his tongue swirl around your entrance, teasing you.

He closes his eyes, feeling the taste of your sweet cunt filling up his senses. As soon as he fucks his tongue into you, you grab his curls, "Shit, Tom, just like that".

He moans inside of you, which made you roll your eyes back, hips bucking to create the even more friction between his tongue and your walls.

You couldn't believe that was actually happening. When most of college guys wouldn't give a shit about your pleasure when you were getting laid, there was your English professor, the most respected man in that department and also the most desired one, going down on you, tasting you like it was his last meal.

Tom puts one finger inside of you, while his tongue lap over your clit. Seeing that you adjusted pretty well, he brought another one. "Tom- I'm close"

You pull his curls tightly, bitting your lips when he hits just the right spot. "Fuck, fuck-"

"Shh, darling, can't make much noise, gonna get us caught", he said in a rushed voice, eager to bring his mouth back to you.

"Sorry, sorry", you said, bringing your free hand to cover your mouth and biting it, as you feel the sensation at the bottom of your belly, your swollen bud of nerves throbbing and showing you were about to come.

It's almost impossible to contain the stuffy sequence of pleasured sounds you released, but you try your hardest while Tom is still stimulating you through your high.

"That's it, I've got you, I've got you..."

You lean against the desk, trying to catch your breath, eyes almost closing shut. If that wasn't the best orgasm from an oral you've ever had, you didn't know which one it was. You could still feel your walls clenching around nothing, holding on into something to keep bring you back from your dizzy state.

"You alright?" Tom asks, a hint of worry on his voice as he smooths your bare legs. "We can stop if you want to-"

"No", you swallow, opening your eyes and shaking your head. "Just gimme a moment. This was- this was fucking fantastic".

Tom looked at you for a couple of minutes, his worried expression giving place to a smug one. He got up from his knees, helping you to take you foot off the desk and straight your posture. You smile at him, caught in the sight on his eyes. It was softer again.

In fact, Tom felt his heart racing inside his chest. He got the most beautiful view right in front of him. He had imagined this scene so many times he couldn't dare to admit, but none of them made justice to the reality, to the expression of pleasure on your face as you came.

"I'm okay", you say, putting your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms. It was defined, firm and so good to touch, you couldn't wait to take that stupid sweater off. "I want more. I wanna touch you", you drop one of your hand to his crotch, massaging his covered cock, which felt painfully hard. Tom groaned, bitting his lip not softly to cover his sound.

His hands came to your jaw, cupping your face as he leaned to kiss you softly on the lips. "I really would like to feel this pretty mouth around me, darling, but maybe another time, I need to be inside of you right fucking now".

You nod your head eagerly, pulling him closer to a kiss. Your hands were quick to undo his buckle, dropping his trousers to the floor. Teasing his a little, you took a handful of his cock on your hand through his briefs, pleased by the moan he released into your mouth. But that didn't make you take any longer to pull of the material, revealing his length completely.

By the time you saw his lower half naked, with his dick standing hard and red at the tip for you, the pre cum coming out already, you felt your mouth watering, and you knew that if it wasn't for the fact that you wanted to feel him inside you as soon as he wanted it too, you'd get down on your knees just to feel him wrapped around your lips.

Tom pumped his cock a few times, taken by the sight of you staring at him with so much lust on your eyes. He smirked, his cock throbbing on his hand.

"You like it, darling?", he teased, aligning his tip with your clit to rub a few time. His voice came thicker now, "Is it enough for you?"

You lean against his chest, bitting his shoulder to contain a moan, whimpering as you feel your bud aching for more friction. "Yeah, Tom. Please, please, just fuck me already", you cry out.

"Spread your beautiful legs for me then... yeah, just like that. Good girl". He uses his cock to hit your entrance a couple of times, the tip teasing you every then and now. And then he realised. "Shit, I don't have a condom here. Fuck, I completely forgot about-"

"It's alright-", you breath out, trying to speak without letting a whimper scape. "I've got one in my backpack, just- fuck, pick it for me, I think I won't be able to walk if I get out of here right now".

Tom cocks an eyebrow at you in question, and you feel your cheeks burning at his stare. "Do you always carry a condom with you during classes?"

"What? No! I just thought-", you didn't want to admit it out loud but you also didn't want him to think other things. "I just expected this to happen some day, alright? Judge me".

Tom's face turns into a smug expression again, a smirk making his way to his lips as he chuckles lightly. "So you really wanted us to fuck this whole time, eh?"

You roll your eyes and shove his chest slightly. "Oh, fuck you".

He took a grab of your wrists, firmly, holding you in place, licking his lips. "No, I'm gonna fuck you. By the way, you should've told me sooner, I'd be very pleased to make your expectations real". Tom brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, "You have no idea of how long I've been dreaming of this. Always walking in my class, in this office, wearing those tight jeans of yours... that day in my car, all I could think about when I saw you in that fucking clothes was that I wanted to take you right there, in the backseat. My best student, the most gorgeous girl".

As he speaks, you suck his thumb inside of your mouth, licking it like it was something else. He watched you amazed, his cock twitching in excitement. "How can you be real, Miss y/n?"

You smile, lips still wrapped around his finger, before letting it go and dropping a wet kiss before saying, "Get that condom, Mr. Holland, I can't wait much longer"

"Alright", he chuckles, before turning around and looking for your backpack, following your instructions to find the pack. Tom ripped it and wrapped the condom around him with ability, making such an effort to control his eagerness.

He came back to you, pumping his length a bit more again, though he couldn't be any more hard than he already was. "There you go, love".

You have to bite your hand again as soon as you feel his tip entering you. Your pussy stretch at it, and you throw your head back at the small pain and the pleasure. No amount of arousal could prepare you for this. Tom caught your expression and was slow enough to continue, substituting the pain for the pleasure, while rubbing your leg to distract you. "It's okay, I've got you", he whispered, pulling your lower half to sit in a more comfortable position. You breath out, not feeling a bit of pain now, just the greatest sensation of having his cock stretching your walls deliciously. Tom hissed as soon as he got entirely inside of you, trying to not be snapped out by the feeling your snug walls around him.

"Is that okay, love? Are you- fuck, are you fine?", he asked in a husky voice, feeling his throat tightening at the pleasure.

"Yes", you nod fervently, "Yes, please, move...".

Tom didn't waste any time to start moving, slowly at first. The feeling was too good to not lose yourself into it. He put his lips in your ear, whispering and grunting while taking himself out of you completely just to fit it all over again.

You held his body tightly, feeling the intensity of his moves, the precision that his hips held to slam right back into your pussy. But soon enough, both of you needed more than that, and Tom started to take a faster pace.

"Tom... oh, my God, yes", you let out a cry, throwing your head into his shoulder, which made him only move faster.

"Fuck, you so tight", he moaned, grabbing your ass cheeks all at once to bring you closer to the edge of the desk. He slammed harder into you, hitting spots that made your eyes roll.

"Yeah, darling, so good to me, such a fucking good girl letting me fuck you", the sweat on his forehead was beginning to form, but he didn't seem to feel any kind of tiredness, keeping the steady rhythm.

You spread your legs even wider, bending your knees so he could have a better angle. That was enough to make Tom take you in his lap, not daring to get out of you while he carried your body to the opposite side of the room, your back hitting the wall. He was going to fuck you against it.

You whimper, not being able to form any sentence as you felt the knot forming on your belly again. It was all too much, and then you felt the pad of his thumb over your clit.

"You look like you're about to burst, darling", he said, his breath coming in heavy waves as he thrusts his hips into you.

Your boobs were bouncing with the movement of your whole body, between your arms that were firmly holding onto Tom's shoulder to keep you from falling. It was a sight to be seen and Tom could feel his orgasm approaching as well.

"That's 'cause I fucking am-"

"Tom?"

A knock was heard on the door, making your eyes go wide. You bite your lips to refrain any sounds, your face writhing in pleasure as Tom didn't seem to care to stop his thrusts.

He was too focused on your high to stop and decided that he'd ignore whoever was outside, but the person didn't seem to let it go.

"Tom, mate? I'm off now, you still want to go to that pub?", It was Mr. Osterfield, Tom's best mate and one of the most well-known professors in that college. He was right in the other side of the door, and the thought that only a single sound from your lips could get you and professor's Tom caught made you clench around him.

Your lips part involuntarily, and Tom is quick to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you from moaning. He stares into your eyes as a sign to keep quiet, which you agree with one difficult nod.

He clears his throat and his hips loses rhythm, going back to the slow pace again. "Yeah, Haz, I'm grading some essays and will be out in a few. Just wait me in the parking lot".

His control gets you even more wet, the thought that he was fucking you and still talking to Harrison getting you to a blissful state.

"I can help you, if you want", Harrison insisted, which made Tom groan, burying his face into your neck.

"No, Harrison, I'm fine, I'll be there in a minute", he said sternly and the deep in voice made you clench again. Tom had his face writhing in pleasure and pain for not being able to fuck you harder and faster by that moment.

"What is that, man, c'mon-"

"Harrison, for fuck's sake, told you, you can go now!", he shot, his hands tugging on your skin hard, the rhythm of his hips painfully slow.

Mr. Osterfield mumbles something like "Alright, you dick", and you two heard the footsteps going away.

"Oh my fuck, I'm sorry-" Tom breathed out, taking his hand away from your mouth.

"Don't- just move, Tom, I'm begging you", you moan, bringing his chest closer to yours. He bites the skin of your neck and nods before going back to his previous rhythm.

"Goddamn it, you feel so fucking good. I won't last much longer, sweetheart"

"Me neither", you whimper. Tom brings his face back to watch you, smashing your lips together.

His pace is fast, both of your heart blasting inside your chests, chasing your high, before Tom leads this thumb over your clit and brush it so quickly and with so much precision that you can't help but cum at that very moment.

"Tom-", you almost yell, but Tom is quick to cover your mouth once again, this time with his own lips. It doesn't take longer for him to reach his orgasm too, feeling your walls hugging him tightly, begging him to come too. He kept thrusting his hips into you, ridding both of you through your orgasm.

"That's it, my girl... my best girl"

Your breath is coming in heavy pants, chests colliding in each other, the closeness between the two of you making you feel insanely safe and good about what you just did.

Tom has his hair clearly messed, and anyone could tell what he just did with you if just took a look at him. You weren't far from it yourself, skirt all rumpled and lots of red spots on your skin.

Your legs felt weak, and Tom helped you to put your feet back on the ground. He took himself out of you slowly, taking care to not hurt your overstimulated heat.

After discarding the condom and pulling his trousers back, Tom watched as you tried to clear your own mind to collect yourself together.

"Wait", he said before turning to his desk and taking some tissues from a package before walking back to you. "May I?"

You looked up at him, confused at first, and very surprised when you got the hint of what he meant.

"Uh, I can do it myself, no need to worry", you said sheepishly. Tom frowned and shook his head while getting down on his knees to wipe the mess between your inner thighs.

The both of you remained silent, not knowing what to say. You were afraid of his moment, of what it meant from now own and what changed in your relationship. After all, after fucking on his desk and getting to moan his name, he was still your professor.

Tom got up and discarded the tissues on the same bin as the condom. He stared at it a few seconds before saying in his usual playful tone, "Well, I gotta remind to get rid of it before anyone gets to clean this room".

You giggle, tidying up your clothes.

"So...", you grab your backpack, unsure of what to say next. "I think I should go now. Y'know, before someone gets suspicious".

"You don't have to", Tom is quick to say, but shakes his head before continuing. "I mean, you should probably go home, it's not going to look well if you leave my office so late, but... what I meant is that you can, y'know, come back".

"Oh", you blush, and then shrug. "You mean, this is not a one time thing?"

"I didn't want it to be", he admits, closing one of his hands in a fists, nervously. "Is that what you want?"

You nod a few times, staring into his eyes, and see as a smile makes its way to his lips. The contrast between this expression and the so confident one he held just a couple of minutes ago is incredible.

Then he adds a more serious tone to it, licking his lips. "It doesn't have to be here, though. Would you like to... go to my place? We could have a proper date, if you agree, and not only-"

"Are you asking me out?"

Tom swallows and before answering, he averts his eyes. "Well, I couldn't get more unprofessional than I already did, so I think there's no harm on it. Yeah, I'm asking you out".

You smile sweetly at his nervousness. That man just fucked you like there was no tomorrow and now he was shy for asking you to go on a date.

"I'd really appreciate that, Mr. Holland", you say. He looks up at you and relief washes his face.

"Okay. Okay, perfect, so... I'll message you. Well, through your e-mail, cause that's all I have. Unless you wanna give me your number, then I might-"

"C'mon, sir, we only fucked once, do you really think it's appropriate to have my number so early?" You joke, narrowing your eyes, hearing his charming laugh right away. "I'll keep my eyes on my e-mail then".

Tom smiles at you, nodding. You say a quiet 'see you', before turning around and getting out of the office, glancing at your favorite professor one more time before closing the door, both of you excited to your next encounter.

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut #prof!tom #prof!holland #professor!tom #professor!tom smut #prof!tom smut #smut #prof!tom x reader #tom x reader #request

[little-diable]

Distraction - Prof!Tom Holland (smut)

Boy, do I love prof!fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: After years of being professor Holland’s student, the reader finally finishes her studies and joins the team as a young professor – allowing the two to finally give into their teasing.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, office sex, oral (f), gagging, some brief jealousy but mainly fluff and smut

Pairing: Prof!Tom Holland x fem!prof!reader (3.6k words)

“Morning (y/n)!” She was greeted with a smile, unable to bite her chuckles back as she greeted him. Her steps were slow, trying to accept that the office she had visited numerous times over the past years was now hers, well, half of it. (Y/n) sat her bag down on the empty desk, sitting down in the chair she had always claimed as hers, making herself comfortable in this very room whenever he had office hours. “It’s good to finally have you around as a colleague.”

“Thank you, professor.” For a second she had pondered over the title, wondering if she should still call him “professor”, and yet it felt wrong to use his first name, at least not when he hadn’t offered it to her yet. 

“Please, (y/n), Tom’s just fine, we’re colleagues now after all.” Heat flushed through her, eyes momentarily flickering down to her bag, reaching for her laptop to place it down on her desk. It’d probably take her weeks to adjust to the new situation, still not fully realizing that she was finally allowed to teach at the university. “What’s on your timetable for today? Maybe we can grab lunch together, if you want.”

Tom leaned back in his chair, hand running through his curls as he watched her with his coffee coloured eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the giddiness thumping through her veins. (Y/n) couldn’t remember when her crush on the young professor had started, but by now it felt all too natural, one with her system, like a virus she’d never get rid of again. Back when she had been a student, (y/n) had chased any chance to spend time with him outside of his classes, finding her way to his office every single week to discuss new books, theories and problems. And Tom had always listened, sharing his own thoughts with the student he couldn’t help but marvel at. 

“I’m teaching a class at eleven, but I’m free between one and three. Does that work for you?” She opened her laptop to log into the university database, opening the course she’d teach in the next hour. He kept watching her with a smile playing on his lips, a proud smile she couldn’t help but fawn over, wondering if he felt the same bond keeping them chained together. When she had been his student (y/n) hadn’t dared to flirt with him – not like the other students trying to gain his attention – but now the tide had changed, the waves kept rolling back onto the sandy beach they’ve been walking on for years. 

“Works perfect. You know, I’m free till four, I could come watch your class.” For a moment she froze, eyes flickering down to the presentation she had prepared. Even though the mere thought of making a fool of herself in front of Tom left her heart racing, pumping hot, searing blood through her system, the thought of having him close would probably help her relax, guiding the students through an exciting class. “I remember how nervous I was on my first day, but I’m sure you’ll do just fine, with or without me there.” 

“Well, we don’t want you to get bored around here all alone, of course you can come watch. But don’t distract my students too much.” He shot her a sly smirk, taking a sip of his tea. Tom wasn’t oblivious, could pick up on gossip all too quickly, hearing the words his students murmured about him, praying to whoever was listening that they’d get a chance with the professor. 

“Me? Never.” 

……

“Here you go.” (Y/n) murmured a soft “Thank you” to the waitress, watching her place both Tom’s and (y/n)’s orders down. He had his eyes set on (y/n), interrupted on his recap of her lesson by the waitress. 

“So, I think you did really well, it won’t take long till you’ll take over my classes too, I’ll be jobless in no time.” Both chuckled, starting eating with their eyes meeting every now and then. No longer was her heart racing in uneven beats, no longer was she overthinking every word tumbling from her lips, somewhat relaxed around the smiling professor. 

“I doubt that, we both know you’re the students' favourite. But I can’t blame them.” Tom shook his head, curls falling into his face, smirk ever prominent on his thin lips. His glasses perfectly framed his handsome features, adding a professional touch to his appearance, making him appear a few years older than he actually was. 

“Can’t blame them, huh? Was I your favourite too, (y/n)?” He was teasing her, and was well aware that he had been the one to influence her back then. In the beginning Tom hadn’t put much thought into their back and forth, appreciating her for asking challenging questions, finally adding something to his classes he had always missed, but with passing months he had slowly picked up on the way she was looking at her – gazes he couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

“Oh stop it, we both know the answer to that.” Before he could shoot back with another teasing reply burning on the tip of his tongue, his name was called by a bright voice, eyes snapping towards an approaching woman. (Y/n) had seen the female professor around a few times, she had never visited her classes, didn’t even know her name, and yet she couldn't help but tense up. The woman wore a wide smile on her painted lips, making (y/n)’s insides churn as she paid more attention to the way the woman was looking at Tom, a gaze (y/n) was all too familiar with. 

“Sorry for disturbing you two, you’re (y/n) right? Welcome to the department.” The woman stretched her hand out for (y/n) to shake, eyes instantly drawn back to Tom and the uncomfortable expression he wore. “I’ll see you tonight right? They’re expecting us at seven.”

“Uhm, yes, I’ll be there.” Tom froze as the woman leaned down to press her lips against his cheek, hand holding his chin with her eyes focused on (y/n). She murmured a soft “See you later” to the two before she left them on their own, not looking back once. For a few moments Tom and (y/n) were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, a silence Tom interrupted with the sound of him clearing his throat, reaching for his napkin to wipe the lipstick stain off his cheek. 

“Sorry about that. She’s been nagging me for months, I’m her date for a gallery opening tonight, in hopes that she’ll leave me alone after that.” (Y/n)’s gaze flickered down to her now empty plate before she reached for her phone, checking the fleeting time. She shot him a quick smile, murmuring a soft “Don’t worry”. 

“It’s almost three, I think I should head back for my next class soon. Should we pay?” 

……

“But, they aren’t dating, right?” (Y/n) shook her head, sinking further into her friend's couch, letting go of a deep sigh that begged to be released. After leaving the restaurant the atmosphere between her and Tom had been awkward, filled with a silence that was only interrupted as they ran into another colleague of theirs, joining him on his way back towards their building. (Y/n) had barely spared any attention to their conversation, replaying the past moments, unable to bite the feeling of jealousy down, tightening up her throat. 

“No, I don’t think he’s into her, why am I even thinking about that? It’s not like there’s anything actually going on between us.” Another groan left (y/n) as she closed her eyes, deeply exhaling to try and let go of the tension flushing through her. Her friend squeezed her knee, refilling their glasses with a pitiful gaze thrown (y/n)’s way. 

“I mean, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like he is very interested in you, I’m sure it will work out between the two of you.” (Y/n)’s attention was ripped from her friend’s words, hand reaching for her beeping phone. Her heart started racing as she focused on the text Tom had messaged her. It was a picture of a colourful painting, and attached was the text “I think I’m too uncultured, how can people enjoy paintings like that?” 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Her friend shot (y/n) a grin, reading the text (y/n) showed her. It took her a moment to come up with a fitting reply, pondering over the words she should use, trying to ignore the jumps of her heart. 

“Seems like we need to work on your knowledge about art history. You should join my Tuesday class.” With trembling fingers (y/n) placed her phone down, taking a sip of her drink. She tried to stir the conversation with her friend into another direction, not wanting to hyperfocus on Tom and the text he’d shoot her way, but the second her phone beeped again, (y/n)’s hand shot out to reach for it. 

“How about a private lesson? Wouldn’t want to distract your students.” 

…… 

“It was awful, I was so bored.” Tom’s words echoed through their office, he was leaning back in his chair, feet placed on his desk. He was sipping his coffee, studying (y/n), how she typed away on her laptop, replying to emails, trying to catch up with her tasks of the day. 

“Well, it’s the price you pay for leading her on.” He chuckled into his mug, silently grateful that their teasing was finally back, replacing the awkward tension of the day before. Their eyes met for a second, forcing both to give into the smiles tugging on their lips. “Don’t you have something to work on? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do actual work, besides teaching.” 

“Mind you, I work very hard. But why should I focus on my classes, when I can enjoy being around you?” She was glad that she wasn’t taking a sip of her warm beverage, would have probably choked on her sips. Heat rose in her system, forcing her hands to momentarily freeze, hovering over the keys. All (y/n) could do was shake her head, trying to switch her concentration back on the email she had been typing. 

“You’re such a tease, are you like that with all your female colleagues?” Tom threw his head back with a laugh rumbling through him. He rolled back with his chair, sitting up straight to place his cup down. For a second he watched her, pondering over his next move before he rose to his feet to round their desks, plopping down on hers, forcing (y/n) to focus on him once again. 

“We both know you were jealous of her yesterday, right?” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, forcing (y/n) to keep on watching him as he reached for her chin, holding her in place with his thumb running over her lower lip. Her words were stuck in her throat, unable to tear her eyes away as if the roles were reversed, replaying the plot of Orpheus and Eurydice, forced to turn back around to catch another glance of his frame. “But we both also know that there’s no need for you to be jealous, I’ve always been focused on you, even when I wasn’t supposed to.” 

Her heart had stopped racing, it felt as if time had frozen, as if earth had stopped rotating, waiting for Tom to break out into a fist of giggles, teasing her for believing the words he had just spoken. But Tom kept quiet, patiently waiting for (y/n) to reply. He felt her skin grow warmer, eyes flickering between hers and her lips, not daring to move closer before a reply would roll off her tongue. 

“I,” she struggled to reply, unable to pierce the pieces together, not daring to accept that Tom had just given into the feelings (y/n) had fostered for years. “Do you really mean that?” 

Tom let go of her face to reach for her hands, pulling her to her feet to stand between his thighs. One of his hands found their way back to her cheek, guiding (y/n) even closer. With her breath hitched in her chest she started counting the passing by seconds, wondering if he’d close the gap between them, like two boats sailing into the safe haven after months at sea. The waves were guiding them ashore, laying their trust in the lighthouse that called for them to give in, to let go of the pressure that had kept resting on their hearts. 

“Professor Holland?” The sound of somebody knocking on their door ripped the two apart, forcing (y/n) to sit back down in her chair, trying to catch her breath as Tom called for them to enter. One of his students stepped into the office, shooting (y/n) a quick smile before he focused on Tom, asking the questions that have guided him towards this office. And with her eyes trained on the screen of her laptop, (y/n)’s mind started replaying the past moments, cursing the student for interrupting their moment – a moment she had been waiting for since she had started crushing on the professor. 

……

It was evening by the time Tom found his way back into the office, freezing in his step as he found (y/n) still sitting in her chair, working on a book she kept annotating. Their eyes met for a brief second, breaking contact as he closed the door, haltering in his step for a moment before he walked to his desk, placing his books down. Tom rounded their desks like he had done hours ago, cupping her cheek with one hand, eyes finding her curious ones. 

Without another warning, Tom pressed his lips against hers, finally giving into the pull he had been fighting against for endless hours. Her gasp allowed him to deepen the kiss, stabilising himself with his free hand gripping the armrest of her chair, keeping her close to him. (Y/n)’s hands found his curls, not daring to overthink the moment that felt far more intense than in her dreams. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking of doing that since this morning.” Tom murmured his words against her lips, chuckles swallowed by another kiss she pressed against his lips. Both chased one another, not daring to break apart, wanting to drag out their moments together for as long as possible. Lust flushed through her veins, a biting feeling (y/n) had tried to repress for the past years, but the dam had broken, there was no holding back, no need to stop her body from giving in. 

She rose from her chair, making space for Tom to take her seat, pulling her into his lap with his hands finding the back of her thighs. Her middle was ground against his, coaxing a soft moan out of them, sounds bleeding together with the sound of their lips meeting over and over again. (Y/n) felt herself dripping, silently begging him to take it another step further, and another, till she’d choke on his name with tears welling up in her eyes. 

“If we don’t stop I’ll fuck you right here, I won’t be able to hold back.” Tom’s confession left her trembling, feeling him growing hard against her. With her hands finding his curls, (y/n) pulled him in for another breathless kiss, whispering a soft “Don’t you dare stop”. 

“Alright, but you’ve been warned.” A squeal ripped through (y/n) as she was forced from his lap onto her desk, pushed back for Tom to work on the buttons of her trousers, pulling the fabric down her legs. Anticipation filled her body, wondering how he’d touch her, how he’d make her feel, clinging onto the dreams she had been forcing through her mind for the past years. The soaked through fabric of her panties was ripped from her legs, and with his eyes finding hers, Tom pushed the fabric between her teeth, “Gotta keep you quiet for now.” 

Tom’s eyes scanned up and down her frame, marveling at her as if time was fleeting, as if she’d be ripped from him any moment now, needing to burn the sight into his mind. His cold hands pulled her thighs open, eyes set on her glistening cunt, coaxing a groan out of him. She wanted to keep watching him, sounds swallowed by her panties, but the second his tongue found her folds, licking her skin clean, she forced her eyes shut, desperately trying to focus on his movements. 

“Fuck, tastes so sweet, I should mark you up, remember that you’re mine, but I’ll take my time with you later, love.” Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, forcing her walls to flutter around him, not used to feeling the cold metal of his rings pressing against her warm skin. It was sinful, so sinful, giving into their carnal desire in their office, a public space, and yet they didn’t dare run from the darkness that seemed to guide them, one with their desires. 

(Y/n) combed one hand through his locks, holding onto Tom as he kept sucking on her bundle of nerves, fucking her closer to the edge with skilled, curled fingers. Shudders ran down her spine, heightening her senses, unable to pay attention to her thoughts, the images flushing through her mind, trapped in dark matter, a field of energy only Tom would be able to rip her from. 

“So pretty for me, fuck, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” She arched her back off the desk, giving into the moan that roared through her, a sound so sinful not even her panties could drown it out. Her orgasm creeped closer, about to swallow her whole, forcing her to drown in the ocean she had been sailing, losing her path – forced to cling to Tom. “Gonna fuck you now, want to feel you cum with my cock buried deep inside of you.” 

He parted from her for just a second, freeing his cock with quick movements, reaching for the condom he carried around in his wallet. (Y/n) watched him with glassy eyes, sighing in relief as he pulled her panties from her mouth, allowing her to whimper his name. Tom’s fingers dug into her thighs as he wrapped her legs around his waist, cock brushing through her folds, collecting drops of her arousal before he finally pushed into her. 

Before she could release the heavy moan wanting to rip through her, Tom had kissed her, keeping her pressed against his chest. He fucked her slow, giving her a few moments to adjust before building up his pace, making her forget her name with only a few thrusts. The way Tom fucked her was ruthless, unforgiving, and yet it was more intense than what she had experienced before that, shaking against him as if she was about to pass out. 

“Feels so good, fuck, Tom.” Her words were whispered against his lips, eyes squeezed shut, allowing Tom to use her body, to mark her up. He was claiming her in the most primal way, body moulding against hers like wax formed into a candle, burned from the heat she emanated. 

Tom sneaked a hand between their bodies, fingers finding their way back to her pulsing clit, set on pushing her over the edge. His rough thrusts pushed her back into the state she had been trapped in moments ago, no longer having control over her body. Both had a hard time grasping that this was real, that they were finally allowed to give in, secretly promising one another that they’d never part ways again. 

“You’re gonna cum, huh? Can feel you clenching around me.” (Y/n) could only choke on his name, not able to hold back as her orgasm threatened to take over, rocking through her body like a bolt of lightning striking her. His pace didn’t falter, keeping a steady grip on her to hold (y/n) close as she gave in, trembling against his body. 

His dark eyes fluttered close as he came, filling the condom with a deep groan ripping through his throat. A “fuck” left Tom, slowly loosening his grip on (y/n) to pull out of her, not picking up on the whimper leaving her, feeling empty. Their eyes searched one another, unable to stop their grins from widening as another kiss was shared, chasing their closeness.

“Are you okay, love?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, taking his reached out hand to rise from her position on the table, needing to stabilise herself with her still quivering limbs. She’d struggle with walking for the next hours, needing Tom to guide her back home, not ready to part ways just yet.

“How about I take you home with me? We could cook something, take a shower, and watch a movie?” His words were met with a kiss pressed against his lips, answering his question. And with one last glance thrown her way, Tom pulled (y/n) out of their office, hands interlaced.

#Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland imagine #professor holland

[smolvenger]

imma just leave this riiiiiight here for u this fine Monday 😳🫠

Oh my, the thots are thotting and the whore-mines are raging for me with this look. Omg, the long curls? The suit? The slutty chest hair? 🥵no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Time for me to get more unhinged bc this has my thots going-

Since this is Prof! Hiddles I need him to tell me I did poorly on the essay so he pulls me on his lap and spanks me as he corrects me and then has me either propped on his desk and opens my legs or bends me over to earn his forgiveness as he calls me his whore and then his good girl and pulls my hair and then enters me and pounds me violently until I’m screaming for him as we cuuuuuuuu[gunshots]

I do have your prof! Hiddles request, bestie👀I think I can use this pic as inspiration😈😈😈

#smut #thots #just…look at him! look at him! #prof! hiddles #prof! Tom #prof! Tom my beloved

[piscesparker]

Borrowed T.H

Masterlist

prof!Tom

Warnings: making out, terrible jokes, fluff, trashy writing

"Tom", you whispered as your boyfriend slash professor kissed your neck and marking you up very well. You had gone over to his apartment to talk about increasing your marks but Tom understood the complete opposite of it, and that is how you found yourself on his couch, under him. He hummed against your skin not being deterred from his goal.

"I need to talk to you about my marks." You sighed as he began his work at your sweet spot.

"I'm already working on it love." He chuckled, his soft lips not leaving your skin.

"I meant my grades." You said a bit of seriousness in your tone, and then he finally looked at you, he curls falling on his forehead as you ran your hand through them and looking into his equally soft brown orbs. "Well, you get an A grade for being such a pretty girl." He kissed your crimson cheek.

"Tom." You warned.

"Don't worry about it darling," he said in a heavy British accent, "I will see to it later, for now just let me spend some time with my girl." He smirked and got back to littering hickeys all over your neck and collarbone.

--

The next morning you woke up snuggled into Tom's arms, reaching out for your phone you checked the time and realized you're gonna be late for your first class. You let yourself out of the brunet's strong grip and rushed to the bathroom, upon reaching there you took a look of yourself in the mirror and saw your neck and collarbone covered with hickeys and began to panic as you had to head out of the door in fifteen minutes. "Tom!" You called out, heading back to where the boy was sleeping soundly and stood in front of his sleeping figure with your hands on your hips, "Tom wake up!" You called out again.

He squinted and reached for your hand and kissing your knuckles, "Morning to you too love."

"Look what you've done!" You huffed, "I have to leave in fifteen minutes and I cannot leave looking like this!"

"But you look so pretty!" He pouted, secretly proud of his work.

"Do you have any concealer?" You asked returning to the bathroom and once again taking a look at the bruises.

"Yeah, it's right next to nail polish in the cabinet." He joked.

"Hilarious." You deadpanned, "What am I gonna do Tom?"

"Ooh I have an idea!" He exclaimed and went to his room, moments later he came with his black turtle neck in his hand, "Hear you can wear this." He handed you the shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," He reassured, "You do look nice in my clothes." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Tom was right, you did look nice his clothes.

Your day went on as usual, boring classes and tons of assignments to be submitted, but all of it was worth it because it was the last class of the day and it was Tom's. He entered the class all the girls began to swoon over how his biceps looked in his white tee, but he didn't pay attention to any of them; his eyes meeting only yours as he gave you a soft smile, admiring how you looked in his shirt. The bell rang signally that class was over, as the rest of the students began to move out Tom called out to you, "Miss Y/l/n, would you mind meeting me in my office." You nodded.

"Ooh someone's in trouble!" Your friend teased you. Reaching his office you knocked and waited for him to open the door, the door swung open and he roughly pulled you in and the checked the hallway for any passerby's. Slamming the door shut he pulled you closer by your waist, "You have no idea what you have been doing to be all day looking so hot in that." He whispered seductively in your ear followed by his soft lips meeting yours. You were in for a long time.

General Taglist: @petersasteria @bleh-bleh-blehs @astrosurreptitious @hollanderfangirl @alinastarkrovs @parkerpeter24 @yourstrulyamour @celestialholland @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theglitterymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @yousayironisayman @rosie-posie08

Tom Holland Taglist: @words-to-accomplish-something @asshatgrace @spideyspeaches @anissalime @peterbenjiparker @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #prof!tom #tom holland fic

[babybluebex]

of pubs and profs [tom holland smut]

➽ pairing: prof!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.7k ➽ summary: you have what you consider the best night of your life, but discover that it was with the worst person possible. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering/oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (i am begging yall to wear a condom irl) ➽ a/n: alright so... don’t fool around with your teacher pls. live vicariously thru y/n :) 

He seemed so out of place here. For one thing, a bar like this was hardly known for much good happening, and this man exuded good. He seemed fit, even as he sat at the bar, his face sharp, full of angles that would have been glorious to sketch, and he had caramel-amber hair that curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue turtleneck and slacks, a watch with a leather band around his left wrist. 

“You’re staring.” 

I jumped. I had forgotten that I was mid-conversation. “Huh?”

Zendaya scoffed. “You’re staring at that guy,” she said. “Like, staring super hard. Do you know him?” 

“No,” I mumbled. “He’s just…” I trailed off for a moment, then attempted to save face by taking a sip of my drink. “I like the look of him. Ya know?” 

Zendaya scoffed at me. “I like the look of him too, but you’re on something else here.” There was a pause between the two of us, and Zen’s mouth split into a smile. “Five bucks.” 

“For what?” I asked. 

“You can’t get his number,” Zen said. “I’ll give you five whole dollars if you get his phone number.”

“You don’t have five dollars,” I said playfully, with narrowed eyes. “You don’t even have two coins to rub together.”

“Right, and who bought your drink?” Zen asked. “C’mon, you need to put yourself out there. Ever since you and Jacob broke up, it’s been nothing but… Sad. Your room’s a cave, Y/N. Will you do this for me?” 

I cast a glance at the guy once more, and I sighed. “Why not?” I mumbled under my breath. “But I had better get that fucking money, or I’ll take away your apartment privileges.” 

“I pay half of the rent, fuck you,” Zen laughed. “Go. Go!” 

“I am!” I giggled, and I slid myself out of the booth. The pub was bustling with nightly business, and I edged my way past a group of girls to find a place at the bar. My plan of attack was to order a drink and strike up a conversation with this guy, and grab his phone number before I left. Lucky for me, there was an empty space next to him, and I leaned against the bar with my forearms. 

“Oh, hey, good lookin’!” the bartender, Jake, exclaimed. He was a close friend of mine, hence why I always chose to drink at this particular bar. Our freshman year, he lived in the room across the hall from me, and we frequented each other for screwdrivers (of both varieties) all year. Since then, we continued to grow close. “What’s cooking?”

“Not a lot, Gyllenhaal,” I replied, and our hands met in a quick dap. “Lemme get a rum and Coke.”

“Sure thing,” Jake said. “Gimme two minutes. We’ve got a bachelorette party in the back.” 

“No problem,” I replied, and I watched Jake slide to the other side of the bar. 

The game was now on. I looked over my shoulder to Zendaya briefly, just for long enough to gauge that she was laughing at me, and I cast her a look before turning back. Then, I looked back over my other shoulder, the one closest to the guy, and I caught sight of a book he had. “What’re you reading there?” 

He looked up at me with big brown eyes, and my breath caught in my chest. From far away, he was hot but, up close, he was totally something else. He had strands of ginger in his dark hair, and his fingers closed the book in order to look at the cover, like he himself wasn’t sure of what he was reading. “Chaos Walking,” he answered, and my eyes widened. His voice was gorgeous, pitched low, accented with a London attitude. “My mate told me I’d like it.”

“Don’t think I’ve read that,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What’s it about?” 

“Well,” he began and laughed lightly. “A lot. Basically, though, it follows a boy who lives in a world with no girls, where you can hear others thoughts, and he meets a girl. It’s sci-fi and… I dunno.” 

“Is it a good read?” I asked. “You seem like you enjoy it.” The book was battered, the paper cover torn and creased, with the spine broken. It was a book that was well-loved, and I liked how his entire being seemed to reflect the book. 

“Oh, I love it,” he said with a smile. “It’s so fun, ya know? The entirety of the story is incredible.” Then, a beat passed, and he added, “I’m Tom.” 

“Well, hi,” I said and gave him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N. No offense, but this sorta place doesn’t seem like your vibe.” 

Tom gave the front of the book a firm pat. “It’s not,” he said. “I was waiting on a friend but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be joining me tonight.”

“I didn’t think so,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “You seem like a coffee shop kinda guy.”

“You don’t quite seem like the sort to be here either,” Tom told me. 

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t belong in a pub like this, I just know it,” Tom told me. “You’d be better suited somewhere else.” 

I shrugged. “I usually don’t leave my apartment to drink,” I said. “But I’m friends with the bartender and I visit every so often just to say hi.” A moment passed. “Wait, back up. Where would I be better suited?” 

Tom smiled, but it seemed more hesitant than before. “At the risk of being bold,” he started. “My flat.” 

“Jesus!” I breathed, and my face went hot. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was-- I’m so sorry--”

“No, no!” I said quickly. “No, it’s not a problem, I promise. That was bold, Tom, but I don’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I think you might be right.” 

“Glad we agree,” Tom said. “D’you wanna get out of here now?” 

“Sure thing,” I said. My skin prickled at the thought of him against me, and I laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me get my bag.” 

When I approached the booth, Zendaya stuck her tongue at me. “You lost,” she said. 

“Did I?” I asked, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. “Or am I going home with him?” 

“Shut up,” Zen laughed. “That was quick as hell.” 

“That tends to happen,” I shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Tom.” 

“I hate you,” I heard Zen mutter as I turned away from her. 

Tom’s apartment--his flat, as he called it--was just a short cab ride from the bar, and I had hardly passed through the front door before his hands were pressing into my waist and his mouth was on mine. In an instant, I had melted into him, and my hands tangled in the bottom of his shirt. His mouth tasted like whiskey, which felt totally in-character for him, and he carefully nipped at my bottom lip. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tom whispered, and he pushed my hair from my neck in order to brush his lips against my throat. No guys in my past had ever told me that in such clear terms, and my entire body ran hot at his words. A shiver ran down my spine, and he huffed a laugh into my neck. “Do you like when I say that?”

“I just like the way you talk,” I admitted. “Could listen forever.” 

“That’s an awfully long time,” Tom told me warmly. His slender fingers inched under my shirt to touch my bare skin, and he slid his hands to lay flat against the small of my back. His kisses lingered on my neck, and the feeling of his soft skin was so lovely. “Let’s start with tonight.” 

“I can manage that,” I laughed. “Bed?” 

As soon as I was down in his bed, Tom was working my shirt off. His hands were so strong and sure against me, and I had no hesitations in letting him do whatever he pleased. His kisses trailed down to my stomach and chest once they were bare to him, and the feel of his mouth on my hip made me take a fistful of those pretty brown waves of his. He just laughed and continued his pursuit downwards, and he rid me of my jeans and panties before pausing and looking up at me. “Is this alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Just… Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tom whispered, and I swore I died right there. He took my leg in his strong grip and kissed my inner thigh, and he placed the softest kiss to my quivering cunt. I immediately knew that I was in good hands, and I let my body relax and submit to Tom. His shoulders nudged my legs open further as he pressed his warm tongue to my wetness, and I bit back a moan as I tried to keep my legs from closing. I was already shaking, which was honestly embarrassing, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to encourage him, because he placed a series of sloppy kisses to my throbbing clit that made me squeal. Then, his mouth went straight to where I was leaking, and an obscene slurping filled the air. Fuck, he was good. 

“Oh my God,” I whispered, and his fingers quickly joined his tongue. First one, then two, then his thumb met my clit, and I whimpered. “Oh, fuck, oh my God.” 

“No need to call me that,” Tom whispered. His breath was hot against my wet cunt, his voice raspy, and I couldn’t help the fluttering that enveloped his fingers. “Just my name will do for now.”

The combination of his fingers and mouth made my stomach quiver, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I came. I had never come just from being eaten out, and my heart raged against my ribcage when I dared to imagine what came next. His thumb moved slowly around my clit, and his mouth replaced it as his fingers moved in me deliciously. His tongue, so skilled and quick, took up his thumb’s previous job, and he took the throbbing bud into his mouth and quickly nipped it with his teeth at the same moment that his fingertips found home inside me. 

There was no hope of obscuring my moan. “Fuck!” I yelped, writhing in his grip. “T-Tom, fuck.”

“Do you wanna come?” Tom whispered, looking at me through his eyelashes. “Use your words, my darling, please.” 

“Please, please,” I gasped. My head fell back to expose my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing was ragged, and a shock of electricity raced through my whole body when he laughed into my cunt. 

“Such a needy girl,” Tom chuckled. “You don’t have to ask. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.” 

He lapped at my wet cunt, tasting me like he had dreamt of this, and my hand went from his hair to his shoulder. His waves and curls fell into his eyes, but he kept at his work, even when I pushed at his shoulder. “Tommy,” I whimpered out helplessly. “I-I’m gonna-- You--”

“My darling,” Tom said. “I want you to come on my tongue. Let me taste you, babygirl. Come for me.” 

My bottom lip was bitten nearly raw, and it only became worse when he said that. I nearly tasted blood as he gave my cunt one last kiss, so much more gentle than what he had been doing before, and my hips stuttered as hot pleasure pulsed through every part of me. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged him close, and he came to lay with his hips between my legs. My vision was blurry with tears as I studied him, oh so close to me now, and I felt a tiny pride at his pink cheeks and glistening lips. That was all me. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered, and he sweetly kissed each of my cheeks. “That was so good.” 

“I’m glad,” Tom said. “Secretly, I pride myself in being able to do that.” 

“You should be proud of that,” I huffed. “Also… ‘my god’?” 

“That was in jest,” Tom began with a light laugh. 

“I know,” I said. My hands trailed up his back, hiking his shirt up to his shoulders, and he helped me in tugging it off. He shook his hair out once it passed his head, and I added, “It’s a fitting name, though.” 

“Really?” He asked, bracing himself above me. “Am I a god, Y/N?”

“Close to it,” I told him. I noticed the way that my hands were trembling as I went to his belt, and he must have noticed as well, because his hands went to my wrists. His hands fit all the way around my wrists easily. It wasn’t rough or dominating by any means; his hands slid up from my wrists to grasp my hands, fingers interlocking with mine as he pressed my hands down beside my head. 

“Take a deep breath, my darling,” Tom told me gently. His thumb made comforting circles on my hand, and my stomach went all fluttery at how serene it was. “You’re shaking so hard. Do we need to stop?” 

“No,” I told him. “I’m alright. I promise.” 

“Alright,” Tom said. “Let me know if we need to stop.” 

I nodded quickly, reaching for a handful of his hair, and I tugged him down to kiss me. I could taste myself on his mouth and, normally, that would have irked me, but with Tom, it only made my thighs tense and warmth spread through my body. My skin rippled at each touch of his fingers, and I let out little mumblings of his name as he kissed my neck and shoulders. 

A surge of boldness ran up my spine, and I moved my hands from where he had placed them back down to his belt. As it seemed was the norm, he was two steps ahead of me, because he was already in the process of leaning back and pulling off his pants. The bedroom was cast only in the soft light of the lamp beside the bed, but I still captured every freckle, hair, and ridge on Tom’s firm chest and stomach. He was the definition of the skinny white guy that had good dick. Or, at least, he gave good head. But someone that good at giving head had to be as skilled elsewhere, right? 

He was back on me in an instant, kissing my neck and making little marks on my skin as I shoved his pants down his thighs. Tom’s hands captured my legs and drew them around his naked waist, and I gasped aloud when I felt his hard cock brush against my cunt, already throbbing once more. In fear of seeming dumb, I didn’t intentionally look, but I could feel the weight of his cock against my body, and I stuttered, “God, Tommy..” 

“That impressive, huh?” Tom laughed.  

“Of course,” I remarked. “What, have you never been told you have a big cock before?”

Tom lifted his head from my neck, and I let out a giggle at his blown-wide pupils and red cheeks. “Where the hell have you been all my life?” He asked with a smile. He laughed, and I noticed the way that wrinkles formed right by his eyes with the extremity of his smile. That was adorable as hell. “You’re gorgeous and so funny, and you’re complimenting me like this? You’re perfect.” 

“I’ve just been waiting for you, I guess,” I shrugged and ran my hands over his built arms, rock solid like a statue. 

“Sorry it took me so long to find you,” Tom smiled. “Traffic was a bitch.” 

I laughed, my head falling back onto the pillows, and Tom situated the head of his cock at my folds. At the feel of it, I gasped, and he swallowed my gasp with a kiss. “Let me know if we need to stop,” he reminded me, kissing my chin gently. 

“I’m fine,” I told him, even though I was shaking so fiercely. Tom sank himself into me, and the deep rumble of his moan made my back arch up against him. “Fuck, darling,” he mumbled. “Cunt’s so tight… Squeezing the hell outta me.” His fingers dug into my hip, surely leaving bruises to later admire, and he snapped his hips forward so that he was fully in me. 

“More,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I wanted more of; I just knew that I wanted more of whatever he ended up giving me. 

My whole body thrummed with blood and life as he fucked me, pausing to pant into my neck and kiss my mouth. His back was taut with hard muscles and I raked my fingers down to his waist and back up to his hair. A curl had escaped the rest of his hair and bounced against my forehead with each thrust, and Tom and I each huffed out a laugh at it. Silently, I reached up and twisted the perfect curl around my finger, and Tom gave me another eye-wrinkling smile.

“F-Fuck, darling,” Tom muttered, and I could tell by his stuttering that he was close. The rhythm of his hips had slowed, but his grip on my waist and legs was as tight as ever. “So fuckin good for me, God.” 

“I’m getting close again, Tommy,” I told him, my voice shaking. I’m sure he already knew, what with the way my chest was hot and my breathing was erratic, but I still wanted to see the look on his face when I said it.

“Oh, me too, my darling,” Tom whispered. His hand fell from its place at my hip and came to rest on my stomach, just above the point where he had himself buried inside me, and his thumb-- that damned thumb of his-- slid down until he was playing with my clit once more. There was an urgency this time, though, his movements quicker and messier. With each thrust, his own belly quivered, and I desperately pulled at his hair. I needed him to come first. I needed to feel him spill himself inside of me. I needed to feel his cum leak out of me, to hear him laugh at the mess we made like I knew he would. I needed so much. I just needed him.

“Tommy,” I whimpered, keening into his touch. “Fuck, Tom--”

His lips crashed into mine, and that was all it took. My legs shook around his waist, and my vision went white-hot for a moment. His thrusts were messy, his waves and curls completely undone and hanging in his eyes, and he watched with a greedy gaze as I writhed under him. I pulled his head down into my neck and he resumed his work of nipping my skin and soothing the sting with his tongue, and I kissed the shell of his ear. “Oh, Tom,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of our shared gasps. “Please, for me?” 

He pulled himself from me and was spilling in an instant, covering my waist and stomach in his warm cum. He settled himself on his elbows above me once again, and I took care to brush those waves off of his forehead. His hair had gone super curly with the little bit of sweat on his forehead, and I bit the tip of my tongue. “Yeah?” I whispered. 

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Let me get you a towel. Stay right there.”

“Wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, honestly,” I laughed. 

When he returned, he was wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt that hugged his muscled frame. He sat beside me and carefully wiped me clean with the wet corner of a towel, and he placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked. “Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thanks, though.”

“No worries,” Tom told me. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like. I must warn you, though, that I like to cuddle.” 

“I would have expected nothing less,” I told him. I sat up, testing my legs for a moment, and my cheeks went hot. “Umm… I don’t think I can walk.” 

Tom’s eyes went big for a moment, and he reached for me with a hesitant hand. “Are you kidding?” He asked. 

“My legs are shaking too hard,” I whispered and bit my lip. 

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom told me, his eyebrows pitching up. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “It’s… This is a good thing. I promise.” 

There was a brief exchange that ended with Tom giving me a shirt to sleep in and me promising him that I won’t try to walk until my legs quit shaking. We found each other again once in bed, my head fitting snugly under his chin, and his fingernails lightly scratched up and down my back. The feel of his strong arms around me, holding me in such a protective way, lulled me to sleep. 

The night passed under a thin veil of dreams. All too soon, an alarm began to blare, scaring me fully awake in a second. From the darkness, there was a groan of displeasure, and a grunt as the bed squeaked and shifted, and the alarm was turned off with a solid stab of a finger. “Sorry, darling,” Tom whispered. “I forgot I have an early morning today.” 

“You’re fine,” I whispered. The lamp turned on, and I was met with Tom, his hair messy and frizzy, his face flushed with good sleep. I stretched my arms above my head, allowing a quick squeal, and I said, “I should probably be heading out soon too. I have an eight AM.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “I hate those.” 

“Right,” I agreed. “Who wants to learn at eight in the morning?”

“The poor instructor,” Tom laughed. His voice was lower than before, scratchy as well, and my chest warmed at the sound. He fixed his hair out of his face, and he turned to see me, still wrapped up in his shirt and blankets. “You look cozy.” 

“I am,” I said softly. “Wish I could stay for just a little longer.” 

“Pursuit of knowledge is an honorable one, though, darling,” Tom told me. “Would you like to shower first?” 

“No,” I said. “I have to go by my apartment to get my stuff and change clothes anyway, I’ll just shower there.” 

“Alright,” Tom nodded. He reached for me and I met him halfway, brushing my lips to his in a soft kiss, and he gave me a light laugh. “I need to get your phone number. I’d love to do this again.” 

“I’d like that too,” I said. I gave him a parting kiss, then worked myself from the bed. I stretched once more, feeling my back pop, and I found my bag by the door to the bedroom. I gave Tom my phone, open to a new contact listing, and he gave a mischievous smile before plugging in his information. “What’s that smile all about?” 

At the top of my screen, it read Big Dick Tom. 

“Oh, God,” I laughed. “That’s really gone to your head, hasn’t it?” 

“You’re the one who told me that,” Tom argued. “And, if someone tells you that you have a big dick, you take that shit to heart.” 

“Sure, sure,” I said quickly. “I’ll text you; maybe we can get dinner this weekend?”

Tom gave me a smile that was fit for a king. “Of course, my darling girl.” 

Tom ended up sending me home with the shirt I had slept in. It was for some carpentry school in Wales, but it was soft and smelled like Tom, so I didn’t really mind the odd reference. Just before I left, he had swept me up in his arms and kissed me, and he pressed his forehead to mine. “This might be premature,” he whispered. “But do you wanna be my girlfriend?” 

Zendaya slapped a five dollar bill in my hand when I entered the apartment. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“The best,” I told her. “He’s super sweet and a great time, and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You said yes, right?” Zen asked.

“Duh,” I scoffed. “A hot Brit who likes me? I’m not letting that go.”

“Right,” Zen said, and the smile dropped from her face. “Well, while you were off getting dick from your new man, our literature professor dipped.” 

“What?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Zen said, spinning her laptop to face me. She had an email pulled up from the head of the department, declaring that our professor, our beloved Dr. Osterfield, would not be teaching the course any longer. Buried in the text of the email, it said the name of the replacement professor: Dr. Holland. “I tried to look this guy up, but he’s not on Rate My Professor or anything.” 

“It’s halfway through the fuckin’ semester,” I groaned. “This blows.” 

“I just hope this new guy’s easy,” Zen groaned. “I can’t deal with a hard class right now.” 

The class was still held in the same room as before, and the general air was worse than a normal eight AM. At least, with Dr. O, he had an infectious energy that woke us all up. Nobody knew what to expect with this new guy. I hoped that, for my sake, he was cool. 

The door to the classroom opened, and a man said, “I apologize for the wait. It’s just my luck that I’d be late today…” 

My whole body went cold and my heart stopped. Tom. My boyfriend, my fucking Tom stood at the front of the small lecture hall, wearing the jeans and white buttoned shirt that I had helped pick out. “Well, this is a strange thing, isn’t it?” Tom chuckled, clasping his hands together. “I’ll explain, don’t worry. But first, I think maybe an introduction is in order.” 

He unwound his bag from his shoulder and opened it for a moment, and a whole new wave of dread washed over me. While he was in the shower, I had written him a quick note and stuck it in his bag. It was nothing more than “thanks, love. hope to see you soon xx”, but a smile split his face wide. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Apparently, my girlfriend left me a little note. Hmm! Anyway, I’m Dr. Holland. Call me that, or Tom, or any variation of the above. I promise you, I’ve heard it all.” 

Tom settled himself on the edge of his desk and he fluffed up his hair a bit. It was then that a quiet wave of titters passed through every girl in the hall; a hickey. It was small, but it was there, right under his ear. “I went to school in London, where I’m from, before I got a degree in English literature from Cambridge. Then, I came to the States and managed to get my doctorate in it, and, who’d have guessed it, this is my first teaching job. Go easy on me, huh?.” My little note, written on a sticky note, was clasped in his hand, and I seriously wanted to die right then and there. My professor. I was stupid. Of course the stars had aligned (or misaligned?) to allow this to happen. And just when I thought I found the right guy, too. 

“Right,” Tom said. “Let’s look at the attendance, see what we’re working with, and I’ll let you guys fill me in on what Dr. Osterfield was covering.” 

The closer he got to my name, the colder my face went. I hated every single moment of it. “And… Y/L/N? Y/N?” 

I quietly raised my hand, then managed a meek, “Here.” 

His eyes trained on me, and I watched the same recognition flood his eyes. Quickly, though, Dr. Tom Holland averted his gaze back down to his computer, and he said, “There you are, Y/N… Can I see you after class?” 

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #smut fanfiction #prof!tom #i'm so excited for this yall #u don't get it

[spideyssunshine]

temptations | series masterlist

prof!tom holland x student!reader

summary: what happens when a sexy literature professor and student fall for one another over Zoom?

message me if you want to be tagged

intro

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

#tom holland #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland series #prof! tom holland #prof!tom holland smut #prof!tom #prof! tom holland series

[spideyspeaches]

I really wanna write this Tom fic but I've seen so many fics already out there cause stupid school and stupid mid terms and now I'm wondering if anyone wants to still read it 😶😶😶

#kriti talks #I'm talking bout the prof fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x reader

[ohwhatamessiam]

Self Control - Chapter 9

Summary: After learning that Chris’s divorce might not happen, you’re left with a hurricane of emotions and uncertainty on how your relationship can survive.

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: FEELINGS!!!! Language as usual, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS USE CONDOMS Y’ALL AND BE 18+ IF YOU’RE INTERACTING WITH THIS CHAPTER.)

A/N: I’m back guys! I been working on this one since June while my amazing beta, @fangirlisms-22, and I have been super busy with graduating and work, but our schedules have briefly realigned to give you this ultra emotional chapter, that you all may or may not hate me for. I have no clue when the next chapter will be up, but there’s 4 more to go before this officially ends! Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic.

I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!

Tags are open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!

Self Control | Masterlist

After spending so much time with Chris, staying away from him felt like cutting off a part of yourself. He’d become a safety blanket for you as a writer, a way to focus your ideas and creative energy. He always knew how to give you the confidence boost you needed. And as your deadline for Robert grew closer, all your abilities and hope seemed to fade away.

You’d ended up skipping class that Thursday. Instead, you left the attendance sheets in Chris’s mailbox and stayed at home, tucked into bed with your laptop under your fingers. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him.

Your sheets smelled like him, he’d left clothes all over your place. Even when you tried to fall asleep at night, it felt like his weight was still pressed against you, keeping you warm. But when you’d roll over, he wasn’t there.

No matter how badly your heart hurt and your body wanted to feel his fingers against your skin, you told yourself that this was better. Giving him time to figure out his shit was necessary.

But goddammit, you hated that nearly every waking thought of yours was about him. And it didn’t help that he’d been consistently leaving you voicemails and texts everyday. You did your best not to read or listen to them, but your resolve wasn’t that strong, and him pleading for you to come see him so he could apologize (again) in person, didn’t help you focus anymore either.

Your short story was due Sunday evening. And you had nothing. Your name in bold black letters and blank page after blank page.

Saturday night, you finally give in. If you can’t focus on anything else besides Chris, you might as well write about him.

As you bury yourself under a heavy blanket in the dark, the words seem to come to you. Your fingers type quickly, ghosting over keys and filling up the empty pages you’d been stressing about for weeks. All the things you wanted to say, the things you wanted to hear from him, they presented themselves to you, mapping out your own feelings for Chris.

You pour your heart out until 4 am, only stopping to go to the bathroom or get another glass of water. When you finally close your laptop, you already know the pages full of your emotional turmoil are probably not publishable, or even fully intelligible, but you tell yourself that when you wake up you’ll salvage what you can.

You roll onto your side, clutching a pillow against your body, and try to pretend that he’s having as hard of a time with all this as you are. That’s he’s lying awake, wishing he could bury his face in your hair and fall asleep with you. Your chest hurts, the same feeling of betrayal tugging on your heart, leaving your lungs ragged and your breathing labored. With its heavy presence, it tells you what you already fear.

That you’ve lost him.

But no, no, you hadn’t lost him.

Because he was never yours to lose.

You managed to turn your jotted map of feelings into something else. A letter from a character, written in a private moment. A letter that would be left for their partner if and when their relationship ended.

It read like a history of these two character’s relationship, detailing their most important moments and their least significant as well. Little things that made them what they were, big things that showed what they could be.

And the narration read as a mourning of their time together. That, while it was good and the writer wanted this to last forever, they also understood that other factors could affect their happiness. That their perfect pairing, the overwhelming feeling of belonging together, could be ended by something outside of these two.

Obligation. Uncertainty. Guilt. Unfinished business. History. Honor.

These things could get in their way. And the writer fully expected them to, why else would they be writing this out?

The piece ended with a heartbreaking lament, waxing on what the writer hoped would happen, that their happiness would last until their natural deaths, and that this letter was born out of a place of insecurity and fear. But the writer stated that they knew there was something else forcing them to pen this. That eventually, this letter would reach its destination.

And the last two sentences felt like salt in a wound: a warm thank you for the memories that were shared, and would still live in their mind. And a sorrowful goodbye.

Tuesday came sooner than you were prepared for.

You trudge through your morning routine and catch your fingers shaking when you need them still. Your teeth chew on your lips until they feel raw. Your heart pounds faster against your rib cage with every mile you drive toward campus.

As you park, an email notification lights up your phone. It’s from Robert. He finished your story and loved the format and the narration in the piece. He wants you to come to his office Thursday to break down the story in person.

Your nerves only falter for a moment, as you exhale a deep breath and feel the weight in your chest lighten for a second. So you hadn’t written a completely shitty story. That meant you still had time to prove you really did belong in the creative writing program.

Somehow, you manage to calm your nerves during your classes by focusing only on the subject being covered, and refusing to let your mind drift to the person it so desperately wanted to obsess about.

And as the time for your class nears, your stomach feels physically ill. It’s clearly just nerves, but every ounce of you is afraid to see him. Afraid of what he might have decided. Afraid that all your fears are right.

You beat him to class and take up your usual seat in the corner. Your heel taps against the floor as you stare at your phone, watching the time count down. The nausea continues to grow stronger in your stomach until Tom slides into the seat next you.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks as he pulls his laptop out of his bag.

You hesitate, your lips opening like you’re gonna respond, but you don’t know what to say. You weren’t sick and you hadn’t told anyone you were sick. But at the same time, you were sick with something that wasn’t illness related.

Tom watches you out of the corner of his eye, taking your silence as a reason to elaborate. “Prof. Evans said you weren’t in class because you’d come down with something. He extended his office hours since you couldn’t be at yours.” You nod, quickly recovering from your confusion. “Since the next paper is due this Thursday, I was planning on stopping by your hours last week, but I went to his instead.”

“Do you still need help?” you ask him, focusing on this sweet kid and not your internal conflict. “Because you can stop by my hours today.”

“I’m almost done with it, but I would really appreciate it if you would look it over,” he gives you the smallest smile, pleading with furrowed brows and puppy dog eyes.

You nod, “I look forward to reading it.” The grin Tom gives you warms some piece of you that’s been frozen for a week. You return his smile, knowing it’s the first time you’ve smiled in days, and your foot slows its tapping. Everything might just go back to the way it was.

As you’re about to give in to this little moment of bliss, you hear the students grow quieter, and you look past the young man in front of you.

The second you see him, your heart feels like it stops, like it can’t handle this moment. Your breathing slows as you watch him walk down the center aisle. His clothes are wrinkled and his beard looks scraggly. He moves quickly to the platform and keeps his eyes averted from his students.

You tell yourself to stay seated, going to him will make it obvious to everyone that you two are involved. He shuffles his papers out of his bag and you see how dark the circles around his eyes are, how large those bags have grown. He hasn’t been sleeping well without you, or maybe he just hasn’t been sleeping well without anyone, and it’s taking its toll on him.

He looks up at the class, his bloodshot eyes distracting from his forced smile as he says, “Today, we’re finishing up our unit on the Modern Era of British literature.”

You drop your gaze to your laptop and try to ignore Tom’s glance your way. The class goes on for another 20 minutes of you staring at the clock, ignoring how tired Chris sounds and how the class chuckles at his jokes. He’s discussing T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets when you finally look up at him, needing to shift and stretch your muscles from your bent and hidden position.

Even with his exhaustion breaking through every facet of his appearance, he’s still teaching the class with enough enthusiasm to make his students forget all those things. He’s switching a slide on the projector, his voice carrying around the lecture hall with such smoothness, “Eliot’s focus on time and the humanity that exists in the world-”

His words drop off as his eyes meet yours for the first time in a week. The blue looks grayer, sadder, and his lips hang open for a moment as his tongue searches for words. You hold his gaze, your heart suddenly sinking in your chest, and you can’t move, can’t breathe.

Like time froze around you two as if you were part of the poetry he’s discussing. You’re not sure how long you two stay there, staring at each other. You can only feel your emotions arresting you. Hope bubbling up, telling you he looks like shit because he’s not with you. Fear pinning you down, telling you this is really over. And that maybe it needs to be. Pride warming your cheeks, since you have this power over him, making him lose his train of thought mid sentence. Panic screaming at you to look away, echoing around your skull that this is not the time or place to hash out your relationship. And unease whispering that this is it, this is your last shared moment, your last silent exchange.

Eventually, someone’s pen clicks and Chris gulps, blinking as he turns back to the class, “-is both timeless and also timely, as World War II began while he was working on the last two poems.”

You drop your focus back to the desk, grounding yourself in your seat. The muscles in your body tense as your mind seeks an escape, your brain telling you that you shouldn’t have come today. Knuckles turn white as you clench the edge of the chair, anchoring your body, forcing yourself to stay.

When you glance away from the faux wood grain of the desk, Tom’s watching you with wide eyes. Concern radiating from him as he instinctively leans toward you.

You force a tight lipped smile and shake your head.

There’s no need for him to worry about you when you’re already filled with enough frustration and anxiety for the both of you.

You hide in your office after class, praying no students will show up after that awkward moment in the middle of the lecture. Every time someone walks past the tiny window in your door, your breath catches in your throat. Fortunately, no one shows up in person, so you catch up on the attendance points you haven’t graded from last week and work on the assignment instructions for the final.

The computer says you have 15 minutes left of your office hours. You know Tom has a class during the first hour and a half of your office hours, so he normally doesn’t show up until your day is almost over.

As you check your email one more time, you hear a knock come from your door. Your body goes rigid as you look up to find who it is.

Chris pushes your door open, peeking his head in before he fully steps into your space. You force yourself to swallow and straighten your back, try to camouflage your racing thoughts and your body’s immediate response to his presence.

He stays quiet until he locks the door behind himself, and you start to tell him that Tom planned to stop by, but the way he looks at you kills the words in your throat. He moves quickly, pushing himself forward and onto his knees as his hands turn your chair to face him.

His eyes are so big and pained, openly displaying his suffering. His fingers rest on your knees as his lips finally move, “I miss you so much.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” you answer, trying to keep your cool exterior, but inside your broken pieces are trembling in your gut.

“You’re more important than a poetry discussion.” Your heartbeat speeds and you swear those words would have made your knees weak a week ago.

You swallow your urge to grip his hands in your own. Ignore your need to lean towards his tragically beautiful face. You can’t give in that easily now, especially since he hasn’t told you where his marriage stands.

“Chris…” his name slips past your lips quietly, like if you say it any louder you’ll break his moment of begging. And if things weren’t as strained as they are, you’d be relishing in his pleading. “I can’t do this. I can’t be with you if I don’t know where you really stand.”

He exhales, his fingers actually twitching against your skin. “And I can’t do this without you. I don’t know how to keep sleeping here, keep pretending everything’s okay. I know this has been an intense few months, but I didn’t think being without you would be this hard. It was never like this with Jennifer.”

You know that’s not a clear answer, but you give in a little, letting your shoulders hunch as you lean closer to him. “I love you, but I can’t be your fall back.”

“I’m-, I’m not asking you to.”

“So then you’ve made a decision?”

He gathers your hands in his, his thick lashed eyes staring into yours, “I know more now than I did before and this week without you has been torture. I know I can’t be happy without you in my life. And I don’t want to have to live without you.”

“Tell me.” Warmth builds behind your eyes as your vision becomes cloudy, as tears fight to take you over.

His tears beat yours, slowly sliding down his cheeks and catching in his beard as he let out a ragged breath. “She can take so much from me if I fight her. She found out about us, and I’m afraid of what she’ll do.”

“I shouldn’t have to be your second choice,” your voice breaks as your own tears burn against your skin. “You two weren’t happy, and that should be enough. I don’t care what she does to us.”

“But I do. She’ll be mad at me. She’ll take her anger out on me, but I care about what she does to you. How she’ll drag your name through the mud, tell the school.”

“Do you think she’d really do that, Chris?” Your fingers slide up his beard, wiping at his tears. “She’s the one who asked for the separation. She’s the one who was ready to call it quits.”

“She was, but when I last talked to her,” he closes his eyes as he rests his head in your hands, his forehead dipping forward. “She acted so differently. She brought up having a family, having the future we always wanted.”

“A family isn’t going to fix your marriage,” his eyes meet yours and you instinctively lean toward him.

“I do really want kids.”

“Yes, but your unhappiness will just be distracted by children. And kids deserve to grow up in a happy environment.”

Chris pushes himself up, his face coming mere inches from yours. “You’re right.” His hands cradle your jaw and his thumbs trail across your cheeks and lips, taking in the face he’d missed so much. “I might have wanted that with her 2 years ago, but I don’t anymore. I want what I have with you, now.”

The words push more tears over, happy tears this time. And his lips find yours. You cling to him, taking in his taste, his breath, holding onto the warmth of his skin. His fingers brush your neck, yours knot in his hair, keeping him pressed against you. Your body feels alive for the first time in a week, and your legs push you out of your chair.

He stands up with you, his hands trailing down your spine as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. You nearly moan from the contact alone. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he guides you onto your desk.

You know it’s wrong. You can’t be doing this now, here. Anyone could see you two, you both could lose your positions at the university.

But you have him back. And it feels so good.

Your laptop gets tucked in a drawer as Chris pulls away from your lips. “The last week was torture without you. I never want to feel like that again.”

A smile tugs at your mouth and you push Chris’s suit jacket off his shoulders. “As long as we’re together, neither of us will have to feel like that.”

He rests his forehead against yours, slowing your attempt at getting his clothes off. “I need you to know you’re the only person I want a future with.”

Tears threaten to escape from your eyes again and your lips tremble. Instead, you crush his lips with your own and undo his belt. His hands unbutton your pants, and you pull back from your fervent kisses only to wiggle them off your legs.

Chris’s fingers trace circles on your thighs, slowly dancing closer to your core. His lips leave yours to trail gentle kisses down your neck, and you try not to laugh as his beard tickles your skin. You rake your nails over the back of his shirt, wanting to rip it off of him.

He kneels in front of you, his fingers pushing your underwear aside. His hot breath fans over your wetness as his eyes lock with yours. He licks a painfully languid stripe across your folds that almost sends your eyes rolling back in your head. But you keep watching him, reveling in how his face looks between your thighs.

As his tongue finds your clit, a small whimper escapes your lips. He grins up at you, relishing in the needy sounds you always make. His beard scratches the inside of your legs as his mouth teases a moan out of you. This time you can’t stop your eyes from rolling back in your head. Your back arches as your hands slide into his hair.

Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm building, but you want him closer to you. You need to feel him. Your fingers tug on his roots to get his attention but it causes him to moan against you. Your breath hitches, but you work your hands to the sides of his head and try to angle his head upward.

After a moment, he realizes what you’re doing and looks up at you.

“Chris,” you start, already feeling your muscles clench around nothing. You aren’t going to last much longer. He pulls back, his wet lips panting. “I need you inside me.”

He pushes himself up and you tug his pants off his hips. You line his cock up with your entrance as you stare up at him. He grips the underside of your knees, wrapping your legs around him. You keep watching his face, waiting for him to push into you. A hand finds your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek, and he leans toward you.

“I love you,” he whispers, mouth hovering above your own. You rest your head in his hand and close your eyes. Savoring the scent of his skin, the warmth of his body, the way his lips trace yours. Trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

He pushes inside you sharply and your muscles tighten around him, your toes curling as your legs lock, keeping him in place. His groan vibrates against your skin, and your arms wrap over his shoulders, using him as support.

You let him have control now, letting him thrust into you at his own pace. Clinging onto him like he’s the only thing that matters.

Because for right now, he is.

Chris doesn’t spend Tuesday or Wednesday night with you, but you do text him and see him in passing. He does his best to calm your nerves about the story you wrote, telling you that Robert wouldn’t lie to you about liking it. You don’t let Chris read the story though. He doesn’t need to see your anxious ramblings on your relationship.

You make it through the lecture on Thursday without anymore awkward pauses tipping off the entire class that you two are involved, but Tom barely says hi to you. You try to talk to him, but he just shrugs or gives you one word answers. You write it off as him having a bad day, and instead try to quell the nerves making your stomach upset.

No one shows up to your office hours, which only allows your anxiety to grow even stronger, but the moment before you walk into Robert’s office, you get a text from Chris: You’re going to do great. He loves you almost as much as I do.

You take a deep breath, letting Chris’s words calm you. You’ve got this. Things will be fine.

You push into Robert’s office with your head held high. He greets you with one of his signature smiles, charming and fun-loving, yet somehow still professional. “(Y/N)! It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to talk, have a seat!”

You drop your bag next to the ornate wood and leather chair that sits opposite of his huge desk.

“How have you been, Robert?” you ask as you clench your hands together in your lap.

“I’ve been great, but I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving break. Susan and I always go back to Illinois to see her family. Are you going home this year?”

“I was planning on staying here this break, working on things.”

“Ah, of course. Finals are coming up and there’s always grading to do.” You nod and look down, realizing your knuckles are turning white from strain. You flex them, try to shake them out so he won’t notice your stress. “So how are you doing?”

“I’m okay, just been a little stressed. Worried about whether my story was any good,” you answer and give him a weak smile.

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about. I think with a couple edits, it’s definitely going to end up in a publication.”

“Really?” you ask, a smile breaking across your face.

“Yes, really. You’re a great writer (Y/N).” He turns his chair to face you directly, his elbows resting on his desk as he leans toward you.

You let out a sigh of relief. It turned out okay. Everything was going to be fine.

You reach down to your bag, pulling out a notebook to take notes on, “Thank you, Robert. It really does mean a lot. What edits do you think would make it better?”

“I’ll get to that, but there’s something we need talk about first.”

You stop writing to look up at him, your eyes growing wide. “What is it?” He stays silent for a moment, his eyes watching you closely. You’re vaguely aware that you’re not breathing.

“Your relationship with Chris.”

Tags: @anakin-skywalkers @irishdancr24 @lostboyinneverland @suz-123 @funlizzie02 @void-imaginations @cryingovershipsthatneversailed @breezykpop @jcc04220 @nys30 @jonsnowisnotdeadthough @guera31 @wickedcitywitch @thelondondreamer5 @patzammit @lilypalmer1987 @talannalew @thatonetuesdaywhensam @supperunnatural20 @evanstanfanatic @lucinapomona @r5rocks101 @dolphinpink310 @bojabee @thefridgeismybestie @ssweet-empowerment @sophiealiice @lostxsea

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