Professor Novels & Stories

He’s close now, he looks at me as if he’s studying me. “Higher, stretch.” His hand moving near my ribcage but not touching. “I need to see how the muscles look.” I stretch higher. His eyes track the movement of my body like he’s memorizing equations. “Turn slowly.” He takes a deep breath. “Something wrong, Professor?” “Your posture.” His voice sounds strained. “Your back curves here.” His finger runs down my back, the first time he’s touched me since I stripped. “Do you feel that?”

Professor Smith said seriously. "Why?" old Mr. Elijah asked. "I mean, I'm sure I'll keep it safe." This professor was really strange, he only said half of what he said every time. They say that the end of science is theology, and this professor doesn't look too normal. The other side. Kourtney was about to leave the dinner to go back to rest when she stood up, she saw a familiar figure. This person, although she had only met once, in any case, will not forget.

His deep voice reverberated and they sounded sincere enough. But something hold Maya that this man was not sorry at all. "My name is Doctor Alexander Grey but you can call me Professor Grey." He pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose, looking at each student in turn. "We only have a few minutes before this class will be over so I'll try and rush things."

I state and she nods while typing, but as she enters my rank and name a beep sounds. "Captain it looks like there is an active note on your file. Council member Hik has requested a meeting with you," she says and my stomach leaps as I hear the name of the council member who handles retirement. "Is he available," I ask trying to keep my voice even and she nods. "He is. I will beep him. Give me a moment," she replies before pressing another button. "Councilman Hik, Captian Cull from planet Shikaz is here," she states and the clear button flashes green.

Nick tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering the insult instead of reacting to it. “I like to take my time with things,” he replies casually, stretching his legs out under the desk. “Sometimes it’s good to make decisions,” Mr. Madden says steadily. “You can always change your mind. So tell me.” His voice is calm, but the tension underneath it is sharp enough to cut. Nick stares at him. Mr. Madden tilts his head slightly in return. It looks like a warning. And suddenly the resemblance is impossible to ignore. In that moment he doesn’t look like a professor anymore—he looks like exactly what he is.

"Same. I swear the coffee is better when I'm not making it myself." "Do you make coffee?" "Attempt to. There's a difference." I giggle. "What do you usually drink?" "Whatever keeps me awake long enough to finish my assignments." "That sounds unhealthy." "Don't judge me. I'm a victim of the education system." Ethan continues talking, asking what I'm studying and whether I'm enjoying the semester. I tell him a little about my classes, and he shares a few complaints about his own. Apparently, he has a professor who gives assignments as though students don't have lives outside the classroom.

I claimed and stood my ground. “Prince Benedict, Mr. Franklin and Mr. Finn Quinn, please stop harassing my new student,” Someone said from behind us the four of us look at that direction to reveal a black haired man with white strands and wrinkles on his face despite looking old he still had a good build. “Good morning, Miss Revington! You are my new student here in Cambridge University under the business management department. You will be attending a semester from me but you can stay as long as you want. I am Professor Sebastian and I look forward to working with you this one semester,” he said as I stood dumbfounded in front of him.

“Good morning, class. I’m Sebastian Wolfe, your new history professor.” My head snapped up, my heart stopping. There, at the podium, stood Sebastian—my Sebastian. His dark brown hair was neat, his green eyes piercing, his black blazer hugging his broad shoulders. He was impossibly handsome, his presence commanding, but his gaze found mine, and shock flashed across his face, mirroring my own. My mouth went dry, my notebook slipping from my hands. The man I’d fucked last night, the stranger who’d claimed my virginity, was my professor. And I was his student.

I steady my hand on the knob and push the door open. He doesn’t look up, his eyes pinned to the book. “Good morning, Professor.” My voice trembles. His gaze lifts—dark, bags beneath them. He holds me there for a beat, drops back to the pages. “Miss Carson, may I help you?” My fingers twitch as I take a step closer. “I heard you’ll be resigning?” I manage, my voice smaller than I mean it to be. He doesn’t look up, just flips a page. “You came to say goodbye. A bit early. I’ll be here until the end of the semester.”

It covers algebra, functions and more. Prof. Jean Jackobo is not just a professor but a doctor and a master's degree. He who wore a calm look and a poker face. But that face can kill. He is known as the "Terror" among teachers in their department. He is called like that because he CAN'T help himself but give students a failing grade. [5.0]