Benedict Cumberbatch Imagines

Professor Cumberbatch~Part 1

I don't know about you, but Professor Cumberbatch sounds incredibly good right now.

If you're uncomfortable with Student x Teacher fan fic, then you might not want to go any further than this...
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You hated this class. It was a good class, but you hated it! The way he moved around the room, his long legs carrying him, his nimble fingers pointing things out in the board, his soft looking cupid bow lips speaking about Shakespeare in that velvet, baritone voice in such a way that you couldn't help but be turned on.

Hated it.

But you loved it.

"Alright, class," he announced, making you jump out of your thoughts. "I'll be passing back your essay in a moment, but please know that of you have any questions on it, I'll be here until nine o'clock tonight, as I know most of you have classes that run rather late." That's the other thing, he was always so considerate to his students. 

He went down each row, handing the essays back, but folding them so no one else saw. When he finally reached you at the back of the class, he handed you the paper, while saying, "I really enjoyed this, [Y/N]...but I think you're capable of more." You unfolded the paper and your eyes widened. He gave you a D. 

Now you remember why you really hate this class. He was always picking on you, pushing you to do better, and what-not. At first, you appreciated it, as you wanted to improve...but now it's just getting on your nerves. You've done everything he's asked, taken every advice he's given you, yet he still pulls shit like this!

You were too upset to talk to him when he dismissed the class, so you immediately left to your dorm, where you'd vent to your roommate.

**

"Sleep with him," your roommate told you. "I see the way he looks at you when we pass him down the hall, or pass his classroom! He wants you and he wants you bad." You shook your head at your friend and told her, "Just because you have a thing with Professor Hiddleston, doesn't mean I have to have one with Professor Cumberbatch. Besides, isn't he married or something?"

"Nope," she answered gleefully. "He's been single for almost three years. Tom told me." Confused, you asked, "Tom?" She huffed, "Hiddleston. Look, he's told me a lot of things about Cumberbatch. They're best friends, which means they tell each other secrets...and I know one secret that he's told about you."

Ah, shit. Now your interest has really peaked. "What did he say?" She smiled and tapped her nose. "God dammit," you muttered. She was the best at keeping secrets, which pissed you off sometimes. 

You looked over at the clock and sighed. Eight-thirty. You've cooled down long enough to go and talk to him about your paper. Only thing is, your comfortable in your pajamas and you didn't want to change. Oh well. He'll have to deal with it. 

You got up with a huff and told your roommate, "I'm going to go talk to him about this damn paper." Her eyebrows shot up and she asked, "In...that?" You looked down at your spaghetti strapped, baby blue top with an animated bunny in the middle and your baby blue short shorts that had bunnies jumpping over rainbows. 

You smiled to yourself and teased, "Well, now we'll see what "secrets" he tells your Mr. Hiddleston." 

**

This was a stupid idea. You were so caught up in feeling impowered and right that you forgot to bring a jacket...and shoes. So you were walking across campus, freezing your ass off and shoeless against the cold ground that felt like pure ice. 

When you reached the building, you rushed in and practically ran to the classroom. As soon as you were about to open the door, it opened to Professor Cumberbatch with his bag slung over his shoulder, a flap cap on, and jacket wrapped around him. He was clearly just about to leave. 

"[Y/N]," he said in a surprised tone. "I didn't think you'd..." he trailed off when his eyes wandered down to what you were wearing. His eyes, you swore, lingered on your very exposed legs longer than anything else. But you're convinced it's just your imagination. 

You cleared your throat and his eyes shot up back to yours. "Y-Yes," he stumbled. "Come right in." He stepped aside to let you in and you walked past him, oblivous to the fact that, once he stared at your ass long enough, he checked the hallway before closing the door. 

"Sorry, it took me a while," you apologized. He hung up his jacket, cap, and then dropped his bag to the floor, before saying, "It's perfectly fine. I did say I'd be here until nine." He pulled up a chair next to his desk and gestured for you to sit. Once you did, you slid over your paper as he sat down. 

"Right," he sighed. "What did you have a question on?" You pretended to think, then told him, "Oh, well, I don't know, everything. I mean, this is a damn good paper!" Okay, so maybe you weren't as calm as you thought. He didn't seem phased by you, though. 

"It is a damn good paper," he agreed. "But I know you can do better. You are very talented and very smart when it comes to writing, I think you should just apply it more." You scoffed and asked, "So that earns me a fucking D?!" He looked a little brought back by your language, but calmly said, "I do admit that this grade was a little harsh. I'll tell you what, if you can improve this paper, then I'll use your better grade for the final mark." 

You couldn't believe this. You knew you should have jumped at this offer, but your pride was taking over. "I don't know what more you expect if I re-write this. Honestly, I think this is my best paper, I worked really hard on it, and if I re-write it, I'll probably change one or two words because that's how confident I am in this." 

You expected the typical, "I know you can do better remark", but he didn't say anything. As a matter of fact...he looked angry. His jaw was clenched tight, his hands were bunched up into fists, his neck was straining, and the veins on his arms from where his sleeves were rolled up were visable. 

After a moment of silence and his eyes blazing into yours, you just shook your head and stood up, walking towards the door. As soon as you open the door, it was slammed shut by a huge hand, next to your head. 

You quickly turned around to be greeted by the blazing fury of your professor. And damn was it hot. 

"Do you know why I am giving you this chance to redeem yourself?" He asked through gritted teeth. "I never see you take things seriously during class. You don't pay attention, you don't listen, but you do damn fine work. I don't understand how that brain of yours works, but it's brilliant and I want you to show it!" His eyes trailed down your body, and then back up to your eyes. 

And amusing glint appeared in his eye, as he asked, "Were you planning on seducing me to give you a better grade?" Through all the shock and aroused feelings, you managed to tell him, "No." He let out a dissapproving hum and muttered, "Shame."

What the hell happened to your nice, dorky proffessor? He was sexy to you before, but now you see him as sex on legs.