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mochie85 · 2 years

Text

Heatstroke

One-Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

One-shots based on this May prompt list. Prompt 5: Swearing in a foreign language Prompt 6: Refund

A/N: Thanks to @lokis-coffee221 for help with the writing and the translations. Warnings: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, cursing, a lot of touching, implied smut. Jotunn Loki Pairings: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 3.4K

When Wanda and Vision decided to elope yesterday, the whole team flew out to Vegas to celebrate with them. Last night, you all decided to throw them an impromptu bachelor/ette party where you drunkenly made her a promise: To find her the one-of-a-kind ring, made by this eccentric jeweler, who just happens to live in a small town in the middle of the Nevada desert that Wanda just had to have. Of course, as one of her best friends, you wanted to do something nice for her and Vision so you agreed to go get the rings for her. Then they sent Loki with you thinking it would be a great time for the two of you to bond.

Ever since you came to work with the Avengers, Loki has had it out for you. He was always saying snarky little comments under his breath. Laughing when Natasha knocks your ass down during training. Or how he constantly tells you how you’re holding a firearm the wrong way.

“I know how to hold my weapon, Loki. Do you?”

“Care to find out lille venn?” he said in a teasing manner.

“Come anywhere near me and you won’t have a weapon to use anymore.” You threatened. God! He irritated you so much.

The whole team has seen it. You two were always at each other’s throats. Always a hair away from drawing weapons against each other. He would tease you or call you condescending names like skatt. And you would always fire back, like the little spitfire that you are. You never backed down and you always served it back to him as good as he gave it to you.

The day started with Wanda waking you up. You felt like you just laid down from last night’s party. She ushered you out, still dressed in last night’s dress and a cup of coffee. “Hurry and be back by 6 pm. The ceremony is at 8. Don’t be late!” She warned you. She pushed you out into the hotel hallway, still half asleep, chugging your latte. You turned and were met by the god of mischief leaning on his doorway giving you an infuriating smirk. It looked like he was wearing the same suit from the night before as well. His top button was unbuttoned and his bowtie was loose and hanging around his neck. You rolled your eyes and continued down the hallway towards the elevator.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look in that dress, skatt?” He said in the elevator, his eyes raking up and down your body. You cringed whenever he called you that. You hated that name, and he noticed. You never knew what half the things he calls you actually mean, but you’re sure they’re not flattering. They don’t sound flattering. Especially skatt.

“Don’t start with me, Loki. I haven’t had enough sleep and now I’ll be spending an indefinite amount of time with you. Ugh, so help me god, I will shove my heels down your throat.” The doors open, and you make your way out to the parking garage to hop into the car.

“So feisty this morning min kjærlighet.” You tossed him the keys to one of the rental cars the team borrowed and got into the passenger seat.

“You drive. I’m not awake yet.” You commanded.

“As you wish, min skatt.” He answered as you rolled your eyes. You strapped on your seatbelt and rested your feet on the dash.

As you pulled out of the garage, and onto the street, Loki couldn’t help but notice your dress riding down your thighs. “Eyes on the road, Laufeyson!” you said with a sideways glance. He couldn’t help but give you that irritating smirk of his.

You navigated him out of The Strip and onto the highway, you headed further east onto vast deserts and empty roadways.

“We should stop and get something to eat,” Loki suggested.

“And prolong this misadventure? I don’t think so.”

“Elskling, you haven’t had anything to eat. And although I’ve enjoyed watching you set lose last night, you did overdo it.”

“What are you my dad now?”

“Du kan kale meg pappa hvis du vil,”* he said with the most salacious grin and a wink.

“Ugh. What are you even saying?! You know I can’t understand you right?” This is how he loved to tease you. Loki loved getting a reaction out of you. He could see the passion in your eyes when you were angry at him. He would do it a thousand times over just to keep you talking to him.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” His grin got wider. “In all seriousness, you need something more substantial than that cup of coffee.”

“I’m fine. The longer we take, the more I have to spend time with you. I’d rather get this over with.” You barked out. Loki sucked his lips in, creating a thin line. He was annoyed. But you didn’t care why.

“Fine. At least conserve your energy.” It was hot. The local weather forecast in Vegas said it would be in the ’90s this week with a couple of days hovering over triple-digit heatwaves. You could feel the searing heat from your window whenever you touched it.

The jewelry store was hard to find. Loki drove for half an hour around the same highway exit till you figured out where it was. It was located inside a truck stop, next to a 24-hour diner. As soon as you walked in, the one and only clerk mistook you and Loki for a couple and thought you were purchasing a ring for yourselves. You only scoffed as you pointed out the ring that Wanda had wanted.

“Come on, kjæreste, why don’t you pick up something for yourself? My treat.” Loki said, scanning the jewelry in front of him.

“Why, so that I could be indebted to you. No, thanks.”

“It would be a gift. I would never expect anything back from you, elske.” You interpreted that as he would never expect you to be able to afford such luxurious items anyway.

“NO. Thank you. I got Wanda and Vision’s rings. I’m ready to go.”

“Suit yourself, skatt.” Loki followed you to the car, and the both of you made it back on the freeway to go back to the hotel on The Strip.

A few miles out, you heard the car sputtering. It slowed to a crawl before the engine died and the battery turned off. “What just happened?” Loki asked.

“Did we run out of gas?” You leaned over to look at the dash, and sure enough, it read empty. “Loki. You didn’t see we needed gas? We were just at a truck stop! We could’ve filled up.” You started yelling.

“I only know how to operate this thing. I don’t know what all the other symbols mean.” He replied.

“Omigod. We’re gonna have to walk back to get fuel. In this sweltering heat.” You left the car, resigned to your fate. Slamming the door behind you, you started walking back down the road to the truck stop with the jewelry store.

“Where are you going, sk…”

“Don’t say it. Loki.” You interrupted.

“…skatt?” That did it. That pushed you over your threshold of civility.

“Putangina! Hindi mo talaga maintindihan, noh? Ano bang ginawa ko sayo? Lagi mo na lang akong iniirita. Ano ba pinagtatawag mo sakin? Ha!? Wala 'kong magawang tama sayo! Lagi mo na lang akong hinuhusgahan! Ano? Ano ba?”?”** You were so angry that you started speaking in your native tongue. You couldn’t express what you really wanted to in English.

Loki was just taken aback. He’s never seen you so angry before. He’s triggered you many times before but never like this. “You must be truly irate with me if you started speaking in your mother tongue. You do know that my allspeak can translate what you just said, right?”

Your eyes widened only a fraction before you schooled them. You had forgotten he could do that. But it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re glad you finally said what you’ve been wanting to say.

Perfect timing too because as soon as you calmed down, your vision went black and you fainted on the ground.

“Darling? Elske?” Loki ran to your body on the ground and held you in his arms. Your skin was covered in sweat and was burning up. He picked you up and moved you to the backseat of the car to lay you down. You had gotten heatstroke.

Loki got angry. He told you that you needed to eat. He told you to conserve your energy. He should’ve stopped at a restaurant somewhere and forced you to eat something. He was the god of mischief; he probably could’ve tricked you into doing it. He should’ve known about the empty fuel tank. If he fueled up, you wouldn’t have to stop in the middle of nowhere and you wouldn’t have gotten heatstroke. He was so mad at himself!

Luckily, he searched the car and found three unopened water bottles in the trunk. Turning his hands into his Jotunn form, he chilled the water. This gave him an idea. But he didn’t know if you were going to like it.

He took off his suit jacket and tie and laid them out in the front seat. He took off his white linen shirt and doused it with the contents of one of the water bottles. He wrapped his shirt around you, trying to lower your body temperature.

After a few seconds, you started to move your head. Then came the soft whimpers. “Darling?” he asked softly. “Are you with me?”

“Loki?” You tried getting up, but moving just made you feel nauseous.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t get up, I found some cold water. I’m going to lift your head slightly so you can drink it, ok?”

“Ok.” He helped you drink small sips from the cap until you were able to sit up and drink straight from the bottle.

“Heatstroke?” you asked.

“You over-exerted yourself. I texted the Captain. They are on their way to pick us up. I don’t know how your current state would react if I were to transport us there with my seidr. Drink some more water.”

“Stop telling me what to do.” You said weakly.

“Please don’t fight with me on this. I already feel bad for letting this situation get out of hand.” You took a swig of water. Your breathing was fast and shallow. Loki watched you carefully. Looking out for any signs that your condition was getting worse. He needed to cool you down. His shirt that was on you had already adjusted to your temperature.

You noted that he was shirtless. His wide chest and lean muscles were on display for you to stare at. You’d never seen him with his shirt off. Being so close to him in the backseat felt too intimate. Your body started blushing and you started to heat up again. You felt lightheaded.

“Darling. You’re heating up again. Can I try something with you?” he asked gently. You barely had any strength to approve or deny his request. You just hummed. “I’m going to touch you, ok? I’m going to wrap my hands around the back of your neck to cool you off.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into the seat. Soon you felt cold fingers glide to the back of your neck. Loki curved his hand around you delicately. You instantly felt the cooling sensation and let out a sigh. His hands traveled down to your shoulders, pushing his shirt off and cooling your skin there.

It wasn’t enough. Loki could only cool a part of you down slightly. He was fighting against the blaring heat of the Nevada desert. He needed to cool more of you down quickly. “I’m going to sit you on my lap darling. You need more contact with me.” You heard him say.

You were scared. You’ve never been so vulnerable in front of him. You always wanted to present yourself as tough and unbending when it comes to him. You didn’t need to give him another reason to tease you.

He took his shirt off you and threw it at the front seat. He picked you up easily and placed you on his lap. His bare chest made contact with your arm and you felt cool. He wrapped his arms around your back to support you and he left his other arm wrapped around your legs. It felt like you were surrounded by ice. Loki rubbed your back and made circles with his thumb on your legs. The whole sensation felt refreshing. You let out a contented sigh.

Loki stopped his movements when you wiggled your hips and leaned your head into the crook of his neck, snuggling up next to him. “You feel so cool.” You whispered. He let out a broken sigh as he tried to control his emotions.

Slowly you regained your vision back. Your breathing had steadied and Loki offered you more water. You looked up at him and noted that he turned into his Jotunn form in front of you. He was using himself as your personal ice pack to keep you cool. “Doesn’t the heat affect you?” you said as you ran your hand down his cheek. He quickly took hold of your hand. He was surprised that you would willingly touch him in this form. Not very many would. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without…”

“It’s ok,” he said looking into your eyes. “I don’t mind.” He continued to hold your hand, as you looked into his beautiful scarlet eyes. You simply smiled and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“No darling, it’s me who should apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed your buttons intentionally. I should’ve stopped for food and made sure you ate something. I should’ve made sure you were properly hydrated, especially from last night’s frivolities And I definitely should’ve known about the fuel. You have every right to yell at me.”

“So you admit to annoying me on purpose?” you asked laughing.

“Do you know why I like to pick on you so often?”

“No.”

“It’s because I like to see the fire in your eyes. Your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red and you look so provocative when you’re angry.” Loki started rubbing your soft legs up and down as he admitted to his intentions. “Did you ever look up the meanings of the names I call you?” he asked looking into your eyes. You shook your head as his hand that was on your back, traveled up to the nape of your neck, cooling the heated skin that started to form there. You moaned at the simple pleasure of being cooled by his touch. “You have no idea what I call you, do you skatt?” he chuckled. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sound of his nickname for you.

“Min skatt means, my treasure. Elskling or elske means darling...roughly translating.” You sat up surprised at his words. This whole time he was calling you pet names and you thought he was calling you something horrible.

“You’re lying.” You said skeptically. Loki simply shook his head. He brought his cold hand to your cheek and rubbed it gently with his thumb.

“Min kjæreste or kjærlighet means…my love.” he whispered. His grip around you got tighter. His face was nose to nose with yours.

“Why would you make me believe you were calling me some horrible names. That you were mean and vicious?”

“It’s easier to accept your fury than to live with your rejection,” Loki said tracing your cheek with his nose. By now you had straddled him completely in the backseat. Your thighs wrapped around his strong hips. His hands roamed your body. Lowering your temperature. Keeping you cool from the Nevada sun. He cupped your cheek again, as you savored his cool touch. His thumb traced your bottom lip and you let out a small whimper. He gently traced his fingers down your neck and onto the hollow dip between your clavicles. He rested his hands on your chest with his palm flat open, cooling you even further.

His touch was heavy so it wouldn’t feel ticklish yet it was reverent at the same time. Loki had only ever imagined being this close to you. He never thought you would receive him the way you are now, especially with how he’s treated you in the past.

“I…” you started to say, but you lost your train of thought. Loki stroked your body, heating it up while simultaneously cooling you down.

“What is it, min elske?”

“I need…”

“What do you need? What can I give you?”

“I need to be…”

“…closer?”

“Yes,” you nodded. Loki’s arms wrapped around you, holding you firmly against him. You draped your arms around his neck, nestling your lips by his ear. Loki let out a carnal groan, savoring the feel of your body wrapped around him.

“I will not take advantage of you like this, kjærlighet. For all I know, you could just be delirious from the sweltering heat and you will not remember any of this, come this time tomorrow. Please do not test my self-control.”

He was right. What has gotten into you? Just this morning you were willing to stab him with the heel of your shoe. Now you were on his lap mewling, a slave to his touch. In just one afternoon, all the strong feelings you’ve had against him came together and transformed into something new. Something sensuous.

“Ahh, the Captain’s here,” Loki whispered. Through the front windshield, Loki watched as the quinjet touched down in front of the car. Loki positioned you off his lap, only to get out of the car and put on his shirt. He rolled his sleeves while keeping his shirt unbuttoned and tucked into his pants. He picked you up again and carried you over as the back hanger opened up. You could feel Loki’s cold hands cradling you as you laid your head down on his shoulder.

You were both greeted with concern from your team and the revitalizing sting of the jet’s air conditioning.

“Omigod. Omigod. This is all my fault. I would’ve never sent you out if I knew this would happen.” Wanda said scurrying around you.

“She’s fine. Just needs water and possibly something to eat.” Loki answered her.

“I am. Really, Wanda. Loki saved me. I got your rings. I didn’t ruin your special day did I?” You quickly said to her.

“Oh, hon! No, you didn’t. Of course, you didn’t. I’m just glad you’re safe. There’s still plenty of time till the ceremony.”

The trip back to the hotel was short. You had laid your head down on Loki’s lap as he stroked your hair while his other arm rested on the backseat. He kept his Jotunn hands altered, cooling you down. As soon as you landed, he was reluctant to let you go, but he knew you were in good hands with Wanda and Natasha looking after you.

All it took was a warm bath, a light lunch, and plenty of water to get you back to yourself again. You had ample time to spare to get ready and stand at the altar next to Nat as Wanda’s bridesmaids.

The ceremony was simple and full of love. After dinner at the hotel’s finest restaurant, you decided to skip the clubs that the team wanted to hit up. You were exhausted from today and just wanted some time to relax.

Before you got a chance to change into your pajamas, you heard a knock on your door. You opened it slightly to find Loki leaning against your door frame, holding a bottle of sparkling water.

“What? No champagne?” you said laughing as you opened the door wider to him.

“If that’s what you’d prefer.” He shook the bottle and it turned into a bottle of champagne. “I can’t get a refund on this one, I’m afraid. I thought you might’ve wanted to go easy as well. Considering what happened earlier.”

“Why are you here, Loki?”

“I thought we could finish what we started earlier.” He said with a smirk. You stepped out of the way to invite him into your room. As the doors closed he cupped your face. Looking down he whispered, “min kjærlighet.” He brought his cool lips down to yours and captured them in a searing kiss.

*You can call me daddy if you’d like

**Son of a bitch! You really don’t get it, do you? What did I ever do to you?! You’re always irritating me. What do you even call me? Huh? And I can never do anything right by you. You always criticize me. What? What is it?

(Min skatt - my treasure) (kjærlighet or kjæreste - love) (lille venn - little friend) (Elskling or elske - darling)

#writing ideas #fic prompt #loki fanfic #loki fluff #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #loki x you #loki oneshot #loki x reader #@deity-prompts #language #linguistics #foreign languages #enemies to lovers #jotunn #frost loki #tom hiddles #ton

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smolvenger · 7 months

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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.

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