Professor Coldheart Care Bears Novels & Stories

The doors burst open, and Carl, the notorious bad boy biker, strode in, commanding attention. He was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket, his hair perfectly messy, and his eyes gleaming with confidence. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. The professor who was about to teach went speechless at the sight of Carl. Carl cocked his brows and flashed him a warm smile. “I'm not here to cause any distractions, sir.. but I'm here to check on someone..” He said and there was a loud, “Awww!” From the ladies. Some of them brought out their phones, eager to record the wonderful moments and capture the stunning appearance of the famous bicker in their medical hall.

I smiled blissfully at her. After some time, the bell rang and we rushed to the classroom. I found Professor Zain talking to one teacher in the corridors near our classroom. I couldn't stop myself from staring at him. He's so attractive and tall. The way his perfect lips are moving, I can't describe in words. My heartbeat quickened again all of sudden. What is happening to me? Am I losing my mind?

The girls murmurred and some girls even giggled like they are admiring the person in front. The boys who wants to introduce themselves to me went back to their places so I can now clearly see the professor who had just talk. But my face turns cold when I saw the very unexpected man. My hands and forehead become sweaty. I got pinned by my seat and I almost swallowed my own tongue! Oh my gosh! It can't be! Damn! Damn! Damn! "Good morning class. My name is Dr. Alqamar San Diego and I will be your professor in Biochemistry for the whole year,"

“I already told you.” “Fuck, man! I wish I had it, too,” Ben says. “Who else has it? Mariah Carey? Mozart?” Lora’s chin rests on her palm. “But isn’t the professor amazing? He figured it out after only listening to you once. How does he do it?” “Because he has it too,” Kristoff says proudly. A gleam in his eyes expresses his admiration for the professor. “Really?” I say breathlessly. He nods. “You can ask him about it later.”

The class was silent, waiting for him to speak. "Good afternoon. This is psychology twenty-two hundred, the study of deviant behavior. I'm Professor Theodore Ashford. Dr. Ashford is also fine, " His modulated, deep voice resonated within the walls of the room with ease. "Now, I know half the class is here to just pass. The other half are actually up for the challenge." The sound of uneasy students shifting in their seats filled the air. Isa saw a glimmer of a smirk appear on the professor's face in response to the discomfort.

Ariel’s POV The rain lashed against Professor Grayson’s window. I hadn’t planned on being here, in his private space. The rain pounding the roof filled the awkward silence as I stood by his kitchen counter, my paint stained fingers fidgeting like the hem of my equally stained t-shirt. “I’m sorry about this,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I should have checked the weather forecast before agreeing to stay late.” He moved in his kitchen as gracefully as he did in front of his students. He was the youngest professor in the art history department at twenty eight, but he carried himself with the gravity of a much older man.

Every other thing would fade into nothingness whenever she was in the room. I distracted myself with my phone, and I scrolled aimlessly through TikTok. I soon got engrossed, and I didn't notice when the class quietened down until a deep voice that commanded attention said: “Good morning, 2025 Freshmen, welcome to ***** College. I'm Professor Stephan King, your lecturer for IHS 101: History of the unknown world.” I looked up, and my world tilted over in the most horrible way possible. Because standing on the podium and introducing himself as the lecturer of the most important course in our 100 level was the man I hooked up with yesterday, the one I rode with reckless abandon.

Everyone turned, and were looking at her now. She stood up and walked quickly to the projector. She paused the video that was on a loop and pointed to the murderer’s hands. “Although this person has gloves on, and it is difficult to tell their gender even, this gap here.” She pointed to the exposed skin between where their hand glove ended and where their sleeve began, “Would have been enough to expose the Professor.” “What are you talking about?” “Professor Cal has a large tattoo on his forearm,” Myra said. Everyone around the table seemed to lean forward and peer at the image.

“Not until you tell me you’re not using him as bait.” Elliott’s jaw clenched. “I’m not the one who just tried to sell him out.” The video looped again my voice begging, “Please, Professor fuck me raw.” The room went silent except for that. Then Marcus laughed from the floor, blood on his lip. “Too late,” he wheezed. “It’s already uploading.” My world tilted. And in that frozen second, I realized: I’d just lost everything

He cocked his head “Is that a statement or a question?” Carol released a long breath as she tried to take the focus of her mind away from the many eyes of other students who were fixed on her. It reminded her of that horrible night, how every wolf saw her nakedness in broad daylight. “I'm just wondering, you only teach us about the healing powers of these treatments, what about their uses as weapons?” “That is not for your consumption, that's why.” He quickly turned away from her and resumed his lecture. She waited till her combination turned a bright purple and decided she had enough and couldn't wait for lilac and so she made her way to where he sat at the end of the room and dropped her b