It’s me, professor.
( Tom Hiddleston AU )
Danger ahead ; curse words, filthy sex and a smoking hot Tom Hiddleston as your lit professor. (I’ll definetly go to hell for this one) Some smoking and a few curse words.
You lit your daily cigarette, the red marlboro box sitting in your pocket feeling a bit heavy. Studying at Stanford university was your mothers dream, and you walked the path. English literature was the closest you have ever got to feel like you truly like what you’re doing. Reading books as a hobby was your everyday escape from reality - the reality you oh so much hated.
Walking on campus was nice, even the dirty looks you got on your way to your first class in the morning. Your friend, Steph, was already waiting for you. You sat down, feeling better after your smoke, pulled out your books and awaited your 80 year old proffesor - wearing the sweater that was too small for him, sweating like a pig, and sleeping on his desk. But this day, this day was different.
Instead of the old hag you used to see everyday, you saw the young proffesor who knocked the air out of you lungs as soon as he stepped into the classroom. The crisp air suddenly became too heavy and you were licking your lips and squeezing your thighs together - as an attempt to calm down your hormones.
He was wearing a white dress shirt that showed his toned muscles. You wished he would take it off in this moment, showing you his hot toned body, walking towards you and slowly opening your thighs, whispering how much of a dirty girl you were into your ear. Kissing down your neck, leaving love bites as a marking…
“Miss Jones? are you alright?” Suddenly you snapped out of your sexual dream, with a pair of blue ( or was it grey? ) eyes staring right at you.
“Yes proffesor, i am fine.” You coughed and straightened your back. Letting your hair out of your ponytail, you started to zoom in on the lesson. Shakespeare was always a fascinating subject for you, and with a hot proffesor like he is, you couldn’t wish for more.
“Isn’t he hot? i would let him fuck me however he wanted.” Stephanie whispered into your ear, giggling and biting her lip erotically. She was always like this - attracted to men she shouldn’t be, but now, so we’re you.
“I would love to know if any of you are writing anything, maybe meet me after class so we can talk.” Professor Hiddleston offered a kind smile, folded his paper and packed his computer.
“We have to go. You have to tell him about your book! he’ll be so surprised about your work, and maybe you can woo him into being your bed warmer.” Stephanie kicked my leg under the table and i shook my head immediately. I was writing - i was almost at the end, but Ophelia’s Secret Garden was going to be published under a pseudonym, never would i show my dirty thought to anyone else, beside Stephanie who i trusted with my life.
“Stephanie, you know i can’t. It’s basically written porn. He’s my proffesor! i can’t just share my sexual fantasies with him!.” I slumped in my seat and slowly gathered my belongings, planing to leave and have a small session with my dirty thoughts on my new proffesor.
“Going for a smoke again? without me?” Stephanie played her offended face and i laughed softly at her. Sometimes i wonder what would i do without her.
“Want one?” I asked her and she shook her head no. Stephanie was a good one, never drinking or smoking anything. She loves her dad too much for that. And i do get that, but one cigarette can’t hurt you. Or more.
“Miss Jones, Miss Walker, nice to see you are enjoying yourself here.” The voice of our professor almost made me faint. Dear god, why him?
“Professor, yes thank you.” I offered him a small smile while Stephanie hid my cigarette behind her coat. If we got caught, it wouldn’t be the best considering we are in the United States and the legal age here is 21, unlike me, who smoked since i was 17.
“Aren’t you afraid of cancer, Miss Jones?” Professor Hiddleston asked me. Instead of a small smile - like usually - he smirked at me and amusingly looked at me for too long, studying my face.
“Death stops all the poets, yet we still quote them today, don’t we Professor?” I knew i was playing with fire, but what could i do?
“I’m curious, Miss Jones, are you writing anything these days?” Now he was playing too.
“She is. It’s very good Professor, you should read it some time.” Stephanie stepped into our conversation that slowly started overheating. My panties were at the verge of being drenched.
What would Proffesor Hiddleston say about my whore ways? I hope he would spank my ass raw with that heavy gold ring in his left hand. I wish he would manhandle me and make me cum over and over again. How much of a slut can i become for him?
Guess we’ll find out.
“Do you now, interesting. Meet with me tomorrow after our morning class and we can talk about your book. Goodbye Miss Jones, Stephanie.” He bowed his head slightly, adjusting his brown coat and walking away.
“That was so hot.” Stephanie stood there with her mouth open, gawking at Professors gorgeous ass.
“I’ll kill you Stephanie! What were you thinking?!” I almost stomped my foot in the ground.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine. He’ll love your sexy fantasies about being fucked next to a wall.” Stephanie smirked and walked away. I lit another cigarette and walked back to my dorm. I hope tomorrow doesn’t even come.
It wasn’t bad, the lesson was nice. Every one of them would be nice if a Professor like him would teach it.
The bell rang. My palms were sweaty. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing high. I could feel droplets of sweat glinding down my back.
“Miss Jones, come please.” And here we go. Going down the stairs i try not to trip, and walking to his little room next to my classroom was like the walk to hell.
I silently handed him a few pages from my book - the ones where there wasn’t so much sex happening. He silently read over them and hummed. He got to the last page, and suddenly stopped.
“Wow, i wasn’t even sure anybody actually did this during sex.” He looked at me and i almost chocked. Sex? where?
Oh no. I printed out the wrong page. Shit.
“That’s not a - ahm, not a part of the book sir. I am so sorry if-”
“Oh, darling don’t worry, nothing i haven’t seen, read or done before.” He smiled and i almost died. I was 100% sure he knew my panties were soaked and my thighs were squeezing together in a noticeable way.
He looked at me again. Now he was looking straight at the crotch of my dark skirt, then straight into my eyes.
“You have very dirty fantasies, my darling. Almost too dirty, even for me.” He slowly got up, taking long steps towards me.
“I - You haven’t read the whole thing. Apollo got on his knees and-” I wasn’t able to finish because he stood right in front of me, his hands on my shaky knees, prying them open.
He then proceeded to kneel down, his hungry eyes staring right into mine.
“Tell me, miss Jones, what did Apollo do to Ophelia? How did he make her cum? With his hands? His mouth, or was it his cock that made her scream his name until all she knew was to moan it out loud like the dirty little girl she was? Tell me.” He now moved his hands to roam over my thighs, making goosebumps rise on my light skin.
“He made her cum more than she could remember. He first made her cum by his mouth, not bothering to use his hands, knowing she was wet - wet enough for him to slide in smoothly.” I was now quietly moaning, his hands were doing wonders to my clothed pussy. He was slow, knew what he was doing, and he knew it.
He circled my clit a couple of times moving his head from staring at my dark red panties to look into my eyes again.
“Did you get wet by writing it?”
“God yes, Oh right there please!” I was now begging like a dirty whore sitting in his office chair, wetter than ever. I was close to cumming, just by his one hand that rested on my panties - i was a wreck for him, just like that.
“Mmm, my dear Ophelia, don’t worry, Apollo can’t compare to me, or my cock.” God i hope it wouldn’t.
He grabbed the zipper of my skirt, sliding it down. He kissed my thighs, from outside to slowly getting to where i needed him the most. He then kissed my pussy over my panties, leaving me to whine and moan at the same time for him to do something.
Sweet praises left his mouth, which was not busy by taking off my panties with it. He slowly rubbed my pussy and kissed me passionately. His head disappeared into the sweet taste of my pussy, he moaned and lapped at my slick as if i was his last meal. He sucked at my clit, making eye contact and making me cum.
My legs shook and i swore i saw god himself.
He unzipped his pants and when i saw his cock, i drooled. The angry tip was red and swollen, slowly leaking precum from his slit.
“Oh god.” He breathed out as he aligned his cock with my centre. Grunting while he pushes the head in, he started fucking me at a rough pace. I was a moaning mess.
“Come one darling tell me how it feels, you dirty slut.” He grunted while ruthlessly fucking into my already used pussy.
“It feels so good.” I breathed out, feeling how he stretches me out. My sensitive walls burned, my knees and legs trembled once again and i could feel my orgasm starting to take over me.
“Think you deserve to cum dear Ophelia? You’ve been a bad girl, thinking about dirty things no woman should think of. Maybe i should spank you - wouldn’t you want that? Maybe i’ll play with your little pussy again. Would Apollo do that? I don’t think he would.” He had that devilish look on his face, and i knew he was going to be the death of me one day.
“Do whatever you want me me Daddy, I’ll be your good girl.” I pushed him over the edge with the little pet name, feeling him moan at it.
“Daddy knows best, doesn’t he? Maybe next time you can show daddy how you fuck yourself after you write, my dirty slut would love that wouldn’t she?” He thrusted even faster, and i cried out for him not to stop.
I cummed, and so did he. I could feel him filling me up. This was the strongest orgasm i ever had. And it was with him.
“Your pussy is heavenly. The poets would write about it, if they tried it. Good thing this pussy is already mine, isn’t it darling?” He smirked at me and sat me down on his lap.
“Yes sir, it is. Maybe you can be the poet. Write long stories about the taste, the feeling, hell - even about how you love this young pussy. Don’t you daddy? No woman can make you cum like i can, can they?” I pushed him even harder, now slowly running my hands down his toned torso down to his already hard cock.
“Let me fuck my pussy again, and i’ll write books about how good you squeeze my big cock. You love to have an old man fuck you, don’t you? These young fucks don’t know how to treat a dirty slut, do they?”
“No daddy, they don’t. Make this pussy yours. Make them see how much of a slut am I.” I was grinding in his lap, tugging at his curly hair.
“Oh, believe me love, after i use my pussy, all she’ll ever want is my cock. Now lay down on that table and let me show you how a man treats a pussy.” He smirked and continued his sweet devilish torture on me.
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please i’m begging when i suggest you do a remus lupin x student reader where they suck him off under the desk during a class of his
p.s ilysm <3
love it. love you too <33
under the desk
professor lupin / reader (student)
summary: under the desk blowjob, stern lupin ;)
You watched as Ron fought his way through a crowd of second year Ravenclaws, uttering swear words as he scowled at you.
‘Impossible,’ he grumbled, and you continued down the corridor. ‘What’ve we got?’
‘History. You done the homework?’ He swore again.
‘You’re joking? Say you’re joking,’
‘No, it was an essay on Salem. I reminded you on the weekend, Ronnie.’ You smirked as you turned the corridor. Ron was grimacing severely, partially at the homework and partially at the nickname.
‘Why’re we going this way? It’s shorter back that way,’ he said, and your cheeks reddened;
‘Because — Dean said Fred and George have flooded it,’ you avoided his gaze, focusing instead on fastening your perfectly adjusted bag strap. The Dark Arts classroom was merely a hundred yards away now, and you felt your heart quicken suddenly.
‘Actually, Ronnie, I’ve got to give Lupin my Grindylow essay,’ you tapped your bag, ‘Save me a seat?’
‘Yeah, alright,’ he shrugged simply. You waited until he turned into the next corridor, and knocked. He was sat at his desk, glasses on the end of his nose, shifting through papers.
‘Good morning,’ he didn’t look up.
‘Morning,’ you returned. ‘It’s me.’
You frowned. Closing the door, you walked briskly over to his desk, and his gaze still did not shift.
‘I’m not wearing any knickers.’ You watched as his lips slowly curled into a smile, and you wanted very much to remain seductive and straight faced, but couldn’t contain your own grin. Finally, his eyes flickered up to meet you, firstly scanning your chest and skirt.
‘I’m very busy and important, you know,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘It would be incredibly unprofessional of me to allow such talk, especially from my favourite student.’ You pursed your lips with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.
‘I suppose you’ll have to tell me off, Sir.’
‘Couldn’t this have waited until the end of the day? My god, you haven’t even made it until lunchtime? You are desperate, aren’t you?’ He observed, and you pressed your thighs together guiltily.
‘Colloportus,’ he said with a flick of his wand, and the door clicked. You smiled completely, this was your confirmation. ‘Knees,’ he said, pushing his chair back to allow you to perch in front of him. You gladly took your place between his legs, the stone floor cold and rough on your shins. Resting your head against his thigh, you gazed up at him. You’re so handsome, you thought to yourself. He’d removed his glasses, and looked down at you adoringly, a half smile on his lips. He allowed the parchment essays he’d been marking to lay on his chest, and he brought a hand down to your head.
‘What are you thinking about, sweetheart?’ He said softly, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. His hands were very large — long slender fingers, fingers which you thought about at night.
‘Very unwise, lying to your teacher. We both know that isn’t true, or you wouldn’t be missing your class to come here — which, by the way, I’m not impressed by,’ he raised his eyebrows sternly. That’s the look, you thought, that’s the one I love.
‘I had to see you,’ you boldly raised your own hand to his thigh, splaying your fingers out as you pushed it upwards towards his crotch. ‘I missed you, Professor.’
‘You saw me yesterday.’ He let his own hand drift downwards, towards your neck. He held it loosely, fingers occasionally brushing your collar bone.
‘I know, but — I need you.’
‘You need me?’
‘You know I do.’ Your hand grazed over his crotch, and you gulped as you fleetingly felt his erection. It was still all so strange — weeks prior, you’d been fantasising about this very moment, but now it was really happening.
‘Well,’ his hand closed around your neck again, his other on yours, pressing it over his trousers against his cock. ‘Why don’t we see how much you needed me?’
You both snapped your heads around, wide eyed.
‘Fuck,’ he breathed, and you suppressed a laugh. ‘Hold on, please.’ He called. You grasped his cock determinedly.
‘But I — ’
‘Upstairs,’ he hissed.
‘What did you say to me?’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Hello? Professor Lupin?’ Someone shouted. ‘The door won’t open, I reckon it’s locked from the inside.’
‘Yes, one moment! Get off the fucking ground now, and go upstairs, young lady.’ He did the eyebrow look, and you shook your head stubbornly. He scoffed. ‘This is really quite a show, even for you.’
‘Hellooo?’ They sang from outside.
‘Coming!’ But they must’ve mistaken it for ‘come in’, because the door rattled loudly.
‘Shall we use Alohomora, Sir?’ Said a different voice.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re unbelievable,’ he shoved his chair forward, and you crawled back under his desk, giving him a satisfied smile.
‘Alohomora,’ he said loudly, pushing your hand away from his thigh. The classroom began to liven up, different voices chiming together, chairs being pulled out and tucked in, bags rustling.
‘Good morning, good morning,’ he said with a slight stiffness. ‘Sit down, please, books out.’ As everyone settled down, he cast you an angry glance. You quietly shifted into a cross legged position. ‘Can someone remind me of last week’s lesson? A recap, perhaps? Yes, go on, Mr Coles.’
The boy, Coles, began talking some nonsense about a Goblin siege case study, and you tapped your fingers against Lupin’s kneecaps. You allowed both your middle fingers to drag up each thigh again, each drag closer inward. You softly traced the outline of his erection with your forefinger, and his leg twitched slightly. You loved that. You hastily made for his trouser button, slowly unzipping them. Pulling his underwear over, your lips parted as his cock sprang back against his tummy. Almost whimpering at the sight of it, you positioned yourself onto your knees again, shoe squeaking slightly. You allowed a few moments of silence before you clasped your hand around Lupin’s cock, and you saw his chest rise and fall a little quicker. Coles continued to talk, completely unaware. You began to move your hand up and down, not holding too hard, in fact incredibly softly. You knew it drove him mad.
He seized your hands with one of his own, holding your wrists together. He leant on his desk with the other elbow, holding his chin thoughtfully. You smirked. Leaning forward, you tickled the tip of his cock with your tongue, and he coughed loudly. Coles stopped talking.
‘My apologies — continue, Coles.’
‘I was finished anyway, really.’ Coles trailed off.
‘Well, thank you! Very good, very good,’ he released your hands, and you placed them on either thigh, licking the length of his cock. ‘What else — yes, Goblins! Page four — four hundred and twenty, if you please,’ he managed, giving another cough. ‘My apologies again, I believe I’m coming down with something.’
‘Can I teach?’ One of the pluckier students called, and the other laughed.
‘You’ll never match me, Johnstone — go on, give me five facts about the first Goblin tribe, and I’ll let you leave fifteen whole minutes early.’ There was an excited buzz of chatter, and Johnstone began naming all sorts of Goblin sightings and appearances. You did your best to take as much of his cock in your mouth as you could without gagging, a quiet wet sound barely audible as you slid your tongue down. His hand was on the top of your head, gently pushing you further down. He gathered some of your hair into his fist so that he was able to control you, up and down, just as he pleased.
‘Impressive,’ Lupin said as Johnstone named his fourth fact.
You cupped your hands around the base of his cock, trying to catch any spit that dribbled from your mouth.
‘I’ll draw it?’ Johnstone suggested after describing the difference between Scottish and Welsh Goblin.
‘Yes — alright, the chalk — chalk’s on the board,’ Lupin said. Everyone began to laugh as Johnstone supposedly drew this Goblin, and several called out instructions for where to place the horns.
‘Daddy,’ you whispered, and his eyes darted down at you wildly. He shook his head quickly, swallowing hard as you swirled your tongue in circles around the tip. He tore his eyes away from you, pretending to smile at the giggling students.
This back and forth cycle continued for another fifteen whole minutes, Johnstone having completed his five facts and a diagram of a Goblin. Lupin had to pry you from his cock several times; it twitched, and you knew he wanted to cum.
‘Sir, seeing as Stanley did the five facts,’ piped up a student, ‘and drew a whole diagram, surely we should get twenty extra minutes before lunch?’ Lupin chuckled, shaking his head lightly, whilst forcefully holding yours down on his cock.
‘I suppose you may — but!’ He said as bags began to move, ‘Quiet in the corridors. Avoid the ghosts, I don’t need them informing anyone. I suggest the courtyard.’ You heard feet shuffling around, and several thank-you’s, have-a-nice-afternoon’s, and hope-you-feel-better’s. You tapped on Lupin’s thigh to indicate you needed to breathe fully, but he didn’t move.
‘Please could you close that door behind you, Shelomy?’ He called, politely.
‘Have a nice afternoon, Professor,’ she said, and the door clicked shut. He pulled you up. You gasped.
‘Fuck,’ you breathed, spluttering a little. He tugged your hair quickly, making you look up at him.
‘Listen to me,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘If you ever, ever, disobey me like that again, not only will we discontinue these little daytime meetings, but we’ll wait until the end of term before we see each other outside of class at all.’
‘But — that’s weeks, that’s four weeks,’ you said quietly.
‘Don’t whimper at me. If you behave, then it won’t happen, but I won’t have you do that again. You should know to respect your Professor by now, young lady.’
‘You liked it.’ You mumbled.
‘I’m sorry?’ He looked, if possible, even sterner.
‘You — liked it.’ you repeated, voice wavering.
‘You’ve really got a nerve. Sitting there, under my desk, teary-eyed with spit around your mouth and your chin, talking like that, to me? Did you not come to my classroom not even half an hour ago, without any knickers, practically begging for my cock? Did you not stuff my cock into your mouth whilst I taught a class? Did you not whisper the word ‘Daddy’ in some desperate attempt to get my attention?’
‘Y — yes, but I wanted to please you, Sir,’ you bit your lip slightly, lowering your head. ‘I still do.’ He leant back.
You smiled. It wasn’t long before his hand was guiding you again, and you allowed both of your hands to work his cock as you sucked.
‘Good girl,’ he growled. ‘Ready?’
‘Mmh,’ you tried.
He grunted, jerking his hips up slightly, his eyes squeezed shut. You did your best to keep your mouth secured around his cock, the hot, familiar taste filling your mouth.
‘All of it.’ He said.
‘Swallow.’ He watched you closely, and you did as he said. He smoothed his trousers out, still breathing quite heavily. You smiled innocently, fairly collected on the outside, but screaming internally.
‘Good girl. I rather think you’ve redeemed yourself, don’t you?’
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