college student johnny and professor reader who dresses in the cuntiest way possible (just elegant, but your clothes fit you so well it’s infuriating and the way you always have a few top buttons undone?)
johnny hides in the bathroom at the end of your class to desperately jerk off in his tight fist, whines and moans falling from his lips as he can’t stop them from calling your name
you find him in the bathroom, promptly degrade him by calling him “a disgusting slut with no respect for himself” before grabbing his cock and jerking him off, tight grip on his shaft as he thrusts in your hold, whimpering and tearing up and so wet
when he cums on your hand you lift it, look at it with a slightly annoyed look before sticking your fingers in his mouth, telling him “good pets clean up after themselves”
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request: so that person asked for professor!reader x snape jsut being super cute and omestic and tender, I couldn't find the request anymore sorry but if the person that asked about it read this please tell me u did in comment
Word count: 1115
Masterlist
---
The sun dipped low over the turrets of Hogwarts, casting long shadows across the grounds. Inside the stone walls, the flickering fire in the staff room offered a warm glow against the encroaching evening chill. Y/N, a professor of Herbology, had just finished grading a stack of papers that now lay scattered across her desk like fallen leaves. She stretched, letting out a breathy sigh, and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly time for dinner, but more importantly, it was nearly time to see Severus.
“Just a few more minutes,” she murmured to herself, running her fingers through her hair. The thought of Severus always made her smile. Their relationship had blossomed in the most unexpected way—two souls drawn together in the shadows of the castle, finding light in each other.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and in walked Severus Snape, his robes billowing slightly as he entered. The moment their eyes met, a spark ignited in the air between them, and Y/N felt her heart race.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “you’re still here?”
“Of course I am,” she replied, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at her lips. “I was waiting for you.”
Severus raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Waiting for me, or waiting for dinner?”
“Both, I suppose,” she laughed softly, letting the warmth of his presence envelop her like a favorite blanket.
He stepped closer, and she could smell the faint, familiar scent of potions and herbs on him, mixed with a hint of something uniquely Severus. “You should know that waiting for you is always worth it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Her breath caught in her throat. “You say the sweetest things,” she replied, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze.
With a gentle sweep of his hand, he brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “It’s the truth.”
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she leaned into his touch, feeling safe and cherished in this small moment. The fire crackled, snapping gently in the background, creating a cozy rhythm that matched the quickening beats of her heart.
“Shall we join the others for dinner?” Severus asked, his tone shifting slightly as he stepped back, breaking the momentary bubble they had created.
“Not just yet.” Y/N took a step closer, her fingers brushing against his. “I want a moment with you first.”
Severus hesitated, then nodded, a rare softness in his expression. “Very well.”
She led him to a nearby armchair, inviting him to sit. He settled down with a slight sigh, and she nestled beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. The warmth of his body radiated against her, and she closed her eyes, savoring the comfort of his presence.
“Tell me about your day,” he prompted, his voice rumbling gently.
“Well, I had an amusing encounter with a particularly stubborn Venomous Tentacula,” she began, recalling the chaotic scene earlier that afternoon. “It wouldn’t stop wriggling. I swear it was trying to escape my lesson plan.”
Severus chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “It seems you have your hands full,” he teased lightly.
“More than you know.” She laughed, the sound mingling with his, creating a warm harmony. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Teaching here is a dream.”
“And what about your dreams outside of teaching?” he asked, turning serious.
Y/N paused, glancing up at him. “You mean, like… our dreams?” she asked, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
“Yes,” he said, searching her eyes. “What do you want?”
She hesitated, feeling the weight of the question. “I want… I want to create a life that feels warm and alive. I want to share it with someone who understands me.”
His gaze softened further, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You have that with me, Y/N. I hope you know that.”
The tenderness in his words made her heart swell. “I do, Severus,” she replied, her voice a mere whisper. “I just sometimes worry about what tomorrow may bring.”
“Tomorrow is not our concern right now,” he said firmly, yet gently, pulling back to look at her. “Let’s focus on today.”
“Agreed,” she smiled, feeling lighter. “What do you want to do then?”
“I want to enjoy this moment,” he said, leaning closer again. “And maybe…”
Before she could respond, he captured her lips with his, a sweet, lingering kiss that sent butterflies dancing through her stomach. The world around them faded, and all that existed was the warmth of his mouth on hers, the taste of warmth and familiarity.
When they finally pulled apart, she was breathless. “That was—”
“Perfect,” he finished, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth.
Just then, the door swung open again, and in walked Minerva McGonagall, her expression shifting from surprise to amusement as she caught sight of the pair.
“Goodness,” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of mock horror and genuine delight. “Am I interrupting something?”
Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she pulled back from Severus, who merely raised an eyebrow at his colleague. “Not at all, Minerva,” he said dryly, the corner of his mouth betraying a hint of a smile.
“Just having a… moment,” Y/N added, her embarrassment turning into laughter. “Nothing scandalous, I promise.”
“I’m sure,” Minerva replied, a twinkle in her eye. “But I must say, it’s lovely to see the two of you together. Hogwarts could use a bit of warmth now and then.”
“Indeed,” Severus said, his tone surprisingly accommodating. “And what brings you here, Minerva?”
“I came to fetch you both for dinner,” she said, stepping further into the room. “Albus has prepared quite a feast, and he’s rather insistent we all join him.”
“Lead the way,” Y/N said, standing up and offering her hand to Severus, who took it with a slight nod.
As they walked together, fingers intertwined, Minerva couldn’t help but glance back at them. “You two are positively glowing,” she remarked, her expression softening. “It’s good for you, Severus.”
“Don’t make such a fuss, Minerva,” he replied, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away.
“Just stating the truth,” she said lightly, guiding them down the stone corridors lined with portraits that watched them with interest. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve transformed, Severus. Love does wonders for a person.”
Y/N squeezed his hand tighter, feeling a rush of warmth surge through her. “I think you’re right,” she said, looking up at Severus, who seemed to ponder her words.
“I suppose it does,” he conceded, a hint of a smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor.
Teacher Darling is never able to look their students in the eyes after finding the private Twitter accounts dedicated to thirsting over how fine their teacher is and how they'll cut anyone who steals their teacher from them but that's completely irrelevant
-
Yan Student: morning teach~ Can you tell me where you got your tie?
[Teacher Darling has war flash backs to a zoomed up picture of their tie and how the student would like it shoved down their throat]
A/N: Hey everybody! I decided I am going to start a Severus Snape x Reader fan-fic book! This will loosely follow the events of Harry Potter, as I also want to make sure I can focus on their relationship. This will be fully posted on my A03, Quotev, and parts here! Here is part of the prologue ;). Also thank you to who inspired me to do this, you know who you are!!
To note, not in anytime EVER was the reader EVER Snapes student. This is a professor x professor type fan fic, and the timeline will be revealed as the story goes. :)
Link for ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66685978
Helpful, compassionate, and patient, those have always been your strongest traits. Being kind and intelligent, remind yourself how you were able to get here. Most importantly, determined, not letting your father's words drag you down as you stood before the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Those were the qualities you made clear to the silver-haired man that day as he gave you a soft smile, listening to the words fall out of your mouth as if you were trying to put a charm on him to convince him to give you this job. It almost feels fake, surrounded by the endless knowledge of books that no Muggle library could offer. Opportunities that the Muggle world couldn’t offer you, so the magical world reached out for you instead.
Standing on the stone staircase, you watched the motion of his hands swivel in alignment with his scarlet quill, not missing a single word you spoke. Your experience, education, and story, all on this parchment paper, he’d forever hold despite the result of this interview.
It felt wrong shivering there before him as you anxiously watched word for word, until he paused to dip his quill in the ink, which made you pause too. Nervous breaths leaving your lungs in a space so quiet and calm, the room is too different to hold you in it. But it never kicked you out, at least, the Headmaster never did, so you fit in somehow. A room so symmetrical calls for you to be pleasing at all angles, but with your choppy resume from the muggle world, all you could do is stand back in fear and let all your disproportions shine through. With a final stroke, his twinkling blue eyes stared into yours, almost seeming as if he was trying to find something behind them. Something missing from your resume that doesn’t encapsulate a piece of you that could only be found within, a piece that you’d rather keep to yourself. It made you want to shut your eyes and believe this wasn’t right, that if you squeezed just hard enough you’d stop hearing the subtle breaths from the Headmaster and go back to your old job despite how much you hated it, you’d rather be there then be rejected by your former headmaster.
“A healer appointed underneath Poppy Pomfrey,” Dumbledore said stubbly, finishing a conversation you weren’t aware you were having. Possibly from the shrunch of your eyebrows giving away the confusion, a small chuckle left the older man as he reached over towards the parchment in front of him, just to put it aside and reach for another paper instead.
Imagine Solving a Late-Night Academy Crisis Together with Heimerdinger
Pairing: Heimerdinger x Female!Reader
Warnings: Mild danger, lab explosion (off-screen), emotional vulnerability
Word Count: ~950
Summary: A lab accident brings you and Heimerdinger together under emergency lights. You support him as he calms you. Camaraderie grows intimate.
The explosion rocks the east wing, and you're the first one there — running, breathless, through smoke and glowing shards of broken Hextech.
Heimerdinger’s already working to contain it. His hands are steady, but his eyes flick to you the moment you arrive.
“Are you hurt?” he asks — not as a professor. Not even as a scientist.
Just someone who cares.
You work side by side, fusing runes, stabilizing energy, recalibrating the array. He guides you without condescension. You trust him without hesitation.
Later, when the alarms stop and the lab falls silent again, your knees give out — all the adrenaline crashing at once.
He catches you.
And for the first time, you let him.
He doesn’t speak at first. Just rests a gloved hand on yours, comforting without pressure.
“You were brilliant tonight,” he whispers. “Truly.”
And when you smile — tired, soot-streaked, and still trembling — he leans in just enough to press his forehead to yours.
Gratitude. Relief. Something warmer.
Neither of you names it.
But you both feel it.
A/N : Here's the last one if you want more contact me! Have a good reading!
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Synopsis: A certain professor is not very supportive of your relationship with the mayor-in-running.
WC: 2,741
Warnings: It's You... the show is warning enough.
The amount of people I see begging for an x reader of this man, and that no one had done it yet is actually hilarious. You would think after the first reveal, the whole fandom would jump at the sight of this man.
Though, realistically speaking, it's probably because he's one of those characters that are so hard to get right. Plus the fact that Part 2 didn't help in his favor at all.
I do plan to write more of him, so this is just a little tease if you will.
『••✎••』
“Hello, you.”
You jumped out of instinct, snapping your head towards the hoarse voice behind you. The chalk that you were currently using flew right out of your hand, soaring to hit the shadow that was now in front of you. Before it could hit your mystery stalker in the head, however, swift hands caught it just before impact.
“I… think you dropped this.” The sarcastic tone of an expired New Yorker made your fears fly away as your piece of chalk had. As you turned to meet the familiar brown eyes, you couldn’t help but give a slight smile.
“Oh, Jonathan,” You raised a hand to your chest, letting out chuckles in relief. “You scared me there, I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit at this hour.”
He stood in front of you blankly for a moment, as if someone had hit him with a “time freeze” superpower. You paid no mind to this of course, as it was a typical Jonathan Moore quirk. He clearly was very into his mind.
It almost reminded you of a certain… someone.
Jonathan snapped back to the present in no time with a soft, closed smile forming on his face. Within doing so, he handed you back your murderous chalk, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“Oh, no… no it’s totally my fault.” He apologized profusely, nudging his elbow towards the door. “The whole “not knocking” thing seems to be a nasty habit that only I can’t seem to get rid of.”
You nodded along to his apologies, despite already forgiving him the second you saw the familiar curls that fell down his forehead. It was pretty hard to hate the man that shared the same passion for poetry and was one of the professors that was teaching the same subject as you had.
“So, Jonathan,” you started, moving to lean your back against your desk. Your daily planner was down by your hips, along with the chalk. “What brings you to my classroom? Are you looking for some new recommendations?”
His face slightly faltered to the point where no normal, unobservant eye could witness it. The lip quiver, the slight wobbling of his left leg… they were all telltale signs of compressed emotions that an average joe wouldn’t think twice about — specifically, those who only knew the person on a surface level.
That wasn’t you, of course. You were observant to the point where it annoyed you. The constant paranoia that followed everyone’s movements practically ate you alive.
After a heap of silence, Jonathan sighed with his head facing downwards, his dark chocolate eyes refusing to look at you.
“It’s about Rhys Montrose.”
Your eyebrow raised in confusion at his words, your hands subconsciously resting on the desk, with your planner and chalk beside you. It was now you who had that blank daze.
“I…” You were absolutely speechless to the point where you could feel your jaw drop slightly. Jonathan knew Rhys? You’ve of course mentioned your relationship with Rhys to Jonathan himself, but you had no idea they had actually met. Honestly, you were still having a hard time believing that the nerd had met Lady Phoebe.
You straightened yourself, using your arms as leverage, as you looked at him with furrowed brows. “With how busy he constantly is now, I wasn’t even aware-“
“He’s not what you think he is.” Jonathan cut you off, his eyes shooting you to meet with yours. They were full of… worry?
“Jonathan, what are you—?“
His hands reached out to your shoulders, his body encasing you between himself and your desk. With every step he took closer to you, the more your eyes widened with confusion.
“You don’t know him, not like you think you do,” Jonathan whispered, “He’s a danger to society.”
You pulled his arms off of you, completely shocked by his tone. His phone buzzed as you looked at him bewildered, but he ignored his new text message. All he was focused on was you, just you.
“A danger to society? Jonathan, he’s just running for mayor.” You scoffed, turning back your attention to the chalkboard from before the librarian arrived. “You know, I didn’t take you for a man that’s into politics.”
“It’s not about fucking politics!” His hands slammed down on your desk. It caused you to jump, turning back towards the man only to find him mere inches from your face.
You tried to back away, but he pulled you right back in. “Jonathan—“
“You’re not listening!” His hands grabbed at your arms, his eyes darkened underneath the light you both stood under. “Rhys is a danger to society, he’s a danger to you.”
Jonathan continued to shake you and yell words into your ears, but everything around you went mute. The slightly muffled conversations from students down the hallways were silenced. You saw Jonathan’s lips moving, frantically, but you couldn’t hear. You didn’t want to hear.
“Jonathan, I think you need to leave.” You muttered to him coldly. It was a tone that would get anyone to stop and think, and he did just that. He paused, and it was then you gathered your strength and shoved him off of you for the final time. He stopped abruptly, his eyes questioning you.
He begged and pleaded with you to hear him out, but you refused. You refused to even glance in his direction. You were rarely an angry person, you usually kept it bottled up to come out in soft rants, but you were afraid if you said another word to Jonathan, you might just go ballistic to the point where you’d risk losing your valuable job, something you couldn’t afford to lose.
So, you told him to get out of your classroom once again and eventually he was forced to listen. He left when your familiar, upbeat students came pouring in one by one.
Despite the almost psychotic break dearest Jonathan had beforehand, class had gone rather smoothly for you. The students actually engaged with one another and focused completely on the short story at hand.
Not once had they gone off-topic. Then, of course, the devil shows up with a knock at your door, disrupting everything. It was one of the things you’ve hated the most, as you found it terribly rude, but your forgiving nature came into play when you realized it wasn’t the man you believed it to be. When you turned your head, it was Rhys who stood there with his hands crossed against his chest. He wore his signature suit and tie, which both complemented his figure and his eyes.
You gave him a slight smile in return, but the look he gave - the blue eyes devouring yours - had you following him outside the classroom rather immediately. You trusted your students enough to behave themselves.
Once outside the view of your students, Rhys gingerly wrapped his hand around your arm, guiding you to a secluded spot in the hallway that was sure not to draw attention. With Montrose's face being blasted everywhere as the mayor-in-running, it was hard finding privacy in public.
You were about to ask what it was that had him so upset to the point where he chased you down at work, but he beat you to it.
"Hello, darling," Rhys's voice sounded almost strained, tired even. It had been a while since you last saw him, not to mention that his friend Gemma had just recently become another victim of that so-called "Eat-The-Rich Killer," though Rhys had "admitted" that she wasn't his friend. If you recalled, he used the words, "Oh, piss off, you manky hypocrite" when he had last spoken with her. Still, the bags under his eyes suggested that he hadn't slept much the night before.
"Ah, nice to see you haven't changed your habits." Rhys covered his tiredness with a knowing smile as he gently leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "Maybe a psychology degree would be a better fit for you."
"Sorry," you apologized, looking slightly down. "It's just... not that I'm not glad to see that you're back, I really am, but are you okay? You look like you haven't slept for days, and you usually don't drop by the university unless there's a problem."
Rhys licked his lips, letting out a breathy laugh as he raised his hands to his hips. The tiredness in his eyes went away for a moment, resulting in him staring at you amusingly. A look that only took you a few seconds to realize you'd analyzed him once again.
You couldn't help but internally groan at yourself, but he only shot you another charming smile. It was one so enchanting that it made you swoon at the sight.
However, he eventually dropped that smile and sighed, caving into your concerns.
"I've had a long week," he confessed to you. "Oddly enough, I couldn't work my usual charm to get through to some... certain people, but I'm optimistic. Nothing a little persuasion won't fix."
"Me too, it's been a crazy morning." You agreed with a sigh. The incident with Jonathan within the previous hour was still fresh in your mind, haunting you to your core.
You never felt threatened by Jonathan, but as you recollected the scene, his body towering over yours with the desk blocking you from escaping. His arms held you, keeping you captive as he screamed about the man - the man who you loved with all your heart - wasn't the man you knew. That he was a façade, dishonest... an apparent danger to you.
Of course, you didn't believe Jonathan. You trusted Rhys with your life, but nothing about what Jonathan said sat right with you. He couldn't have known Rhys for more than six months, so why did he act as if he knew him better than you...
Rhys whispered your name, calling you back to face him. He was closer to you than he was before, with eyes that held his growing concern. As his hands gingerly reached out to caress your shoulders, you wanted to tease him about how he was now the observer, but you stayed quiet.
He didn't like that.
"Darling, what is it?" he pushed softly, his accent adding gentleness to his tone, "What happened?"
"It was… really odd," you muttered, your mind flicking back to your classroom, the way Jonathan's hands slammed down on the desk with sudden rage, how badly it made your heart skip a beat. "My coworker, Jonathan, he—"
Rhys cut you off. "You said, Jonathan?"
"Yes," you nodded.
"As in… Jonathan Moore?”
Huh, it seemed Jonathan wasn't lying to you about it after all. They really do know each other. The more you thought about it, however, made you wonder why Rhys never told you about him. He must have known you both worked in the same building.
You nodded to his question once again, lowering your eyes down toward the glassy floor beneath you. You didn't have to look at Rhys to know he was listening intently.
"Usually, Jonathan comes in to give or receive book recommendations, but today he was acting… really off," you glanced back up at him, as you began to quiver. "He was stating things about you, and shouting at me, and I… I don't know. It really threw me in for a loop."
Rhys' head snapped up at you like a lightning strike. His eyes no longer contained the concern he had held before. They darkened, as well as his voice.
"What did he say to you?"
"Something about how you were a danger to society, and apparently a danger to me," you shivered at the memory. "He shouted a lot of things really, but I canceled out the majority of them and threw him out, metaphorically of course."
Rhys mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately, it was something you couldn't quite pick up on. The only thing you could do was watch as he sucked on his tongue, making a face as though he was eating sour candy, before glancing up to meet your eyes again.
You stayed quiet, observing his newfound attitude. His jaw was clenched, with arms shifting towards the wall to encase you within them before letting his head fall and lean into you. He practically did what Jonathan did but with the wall instead of your desk, and despite the similarities, you weren't scared of Rhys. His eyes fluttered closed with his — now loosened tie — dangling out in front of you. His lips were only inches away from the base of your neck, and you couldn't help but take in his signature scent of grounded coffee grinds.
"Rhys," you whispered softly towards him, ruffling up his short hair slightly. He let out another sigh that unclenched his jaw and pushed himself closer to you. You couldn't help but notice how relieved he now seemed, letting out gentle, smooth huffs of air to take in the moment.
Unfortunately, as much as you'd like to stay like this — being you haven't had him for a week — you still had a class to teach. Regrettably, you forced yourself to peel away from his arms, whispering short apologies and promises to see him later.
You didn't look back as you retreated back to your classroom. Upon returning to your desk, you turned to see that every single one of your students either gave you a smirk or a knowing nod, and you couldn't help but threaten them with a pop quiz that you were positive they weren't prepared for. As expected, it shut them right the hell up.
Ah, the power of being a professor.
———
When Jonathan arrived home that night with his now empty red takeout bag, he couldn’t help but sense the feeling that he was being watched. His feeling turned out to be correct when he went to unlock the door of his apartment, only to find it already unlocked.
The professor froze momentarily, hesitating whether he should enter unarmed or retrieve a nearby weapon. But being in sight of absolutely nothing, he had no choice but to grudgingly step inside.
As expected, when closing the door behind him, the lights of his living room flickered on and within the light revealed the man he most desperately wanted to kill.
The unwelcome man sat on his chair like he owned the place. A martini resided in his hand as he gave a sarcastic smile. The yellow light mixed in with the fiery flames of the fireplace reflected the same unnerving expression.
“Hello, Professor Moore,” the man spoke with amusement as he turned to face the bearded killer. His accent had the falsified name rolled off in a tease.
The owner rolled his eyes as he dropped the bag he held down at his feet. His keys were put safely back into his pocket. He should’ve known this would happen.
“Despite how much I would love to carve out your marvelous attractive eyes,” the man stood up, swirling the drink in his hand as he approached the professor. “I have to admit, Joe, I underestimated your intelligence. I knew you were smart, since the very beginning mind you, but this was just… impressive.”
Joe ground his teeth. “What do you want with me, Rhys? Why are you even here?”
“Two things, really,” Rhys smacked his lips together, nodding his head as he looked down for dramatic effect. When he glanced back up at the professor, his amusing smile was gone. His hand stopped swirling the martini, keeping it eerily still, and his eyes darkened almost instantly.
“Remember what we talked about, Joe, with the replacement. I want it done within twenty-four hours. If not, as I said earlier, you’ll be going down for everything.”
Joe’s breath hitched as Rhys stalked closer to his body. The piercing blue eyes caused the professor to freeze in his thoughts, forcing him to watch for Rhys’ unpredictability.
“And if you ever come near my girl again,” his voice was ghostly, sending chills throughout Joe’s entire body. “I’ll be the one who throws your ass in the cage.”
As if he were a light switch, Rhys pulled his lips into a grin within seconds. In a calm manner, he forced his half-sipped martini into the professor’s hands before seeking himself out.
For the first time in a long time, Joe Goldberg felt uneasy.
Feel free to decline this offer, but I was wondering if you could write something that the reader is a proffesor and they like severus and remus but they can't decide and they (Remus and Severus) both like the reader? If that made any sense
Omg I literally wrote a super similar idea with this last night but it was just Severus... I can totally add Lupin into the mix tho
Great minds think alike, thank you for the ask!
-
(Student)Remus Lupin + (Student)Severus Snape x Professor Reader
Harry Potter
-
"Mr. Snape."
"Yes, Professor?"
The said boy shot his head up, startled that his favorite teacher called on him out of the blue.
"See me after class."
Yn gave him a smile to show him it's not a bad talk.
Severus nodded his head and continued writing down notes.
Remus, a fellow classmate of Severus turned around in his chair just to see him look down, embarssed.
He gave him a questioning look while Severus narrowed his eyes at him.
-After Class-
"You wished to see me, Professor Yln?"
She waved her hand and frowned at him.
"It's Yn in private Severus."
"Not very private when someone else is here..."
Severus mumbled under his breath, casting a glance at Remus Lupin who was still writing down notes and occasionally looking over at them.
"What was that, Sev?"
"N-nothing."
"Right, well..."
Yn leaned over her desk, resting her elbows on the hard surface.
"Over the years I've seen your cute smile into a frown, Sev. Your my best student-"
Remus coughed.
"...You're one of my favorite students. Anyways, I want to make sure your last few months of Hogwarts are the best. You too Remy."
Lupin looked up at the sound of his nickname, beaming at the potions professor.
Yn lightly grabbed Severus's chin so he would look at her.
"I-I don't know what to say Miss. Yn."
Yn titled my head at him, studying his features as he gazed right back.
She smiled.
"Would you like an early birthday gift?"
"What about me?"
Remus shot up from his desk, Severus looked over his shoulder to glare at him.
Yn just chuckled and grabbed something from the bottom drawer of her desk.
"Now Severus I know you have a similar copy but this one is different."
She said, gently placing a potions book on her desk.
"I've tested out every possible theory of mine to make the potions better and wrote them all down for you."
Yn grinned at Remus as he started getting excited.
"Now Remus, I was going to get you a gift anyways but since you so kindly asked..."
Yn said sarcastically, rolling her eyes in a joking matter.
"I've got you a bracelet! It helps so you don't have a panic attack during a full moon anymore."
Yn said, winking and trying to hint to Lupin what she actually meant.
He nodded his head and said 'thank you' with a smile, admiring the bracelet.
Severus walked around her desk and gave her a tight hug, surprising the young professor.
Yn blushed lightly, embarrassed she was shorter than the two even though she was fully grown.
Lupin walked around and hugged her after Severus.
She bit her lip in thought and pulled away from the hug.
"S-sorry this is so inappropriate of me, I shouldn't have-"
Yn stopped talking when Severus smashed his lips against hers.
She kissed back and wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him closer.
They finally departed, leaving both of them breathless.
Remus glared at Severus.
"Hey, I wanted to kiss her first."
Severus shrugged with a smug smile on his face.
Remus turned towards Yn and pulled her in for a kiss as well, catching her off guard yet again.
She moaned slightly and heard Severus chuckle along with feeling Remus smile against the kiss.
"Holy shit."
She whispered to herself, breathless and feeling like this was a really great dream.
-Bonus-
"I'm a better kisser."
"She literally moaned when she kissed me."
"Because she was thinking about our kiss!"
"Boys! Relax. You're both great kissers."
This be kinda long, thanks for reading tho
In my original story I said the reader is 20 and Remus and Severus were both 18 but eh it's a fan-fiction so you can imagine whatever age makes you comfortable
soft dark!sugar relationship with Bucky Barnes. who is giving sugar is up to you 😌
Nudges
AN: Well, apparently I can’t drabble! And Amber, please forgive me the ending - you’ll know when you read it. Kisses!
Beta’d by @lunarbuck, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me.
Main Master list | Challenge Master list
Summary: You want Bucky as your sugar-baby. You've just got to find the right way to get him to agree to it.
Relationship: College Bucky x Soft!Dark! Professor Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
CW: Sugar Baby relationship, Manipulation, Dub-Con (Reader gets Bucky drunk on top of the manipulation) Age gap (Bucky early 20’s, Reader in 40’s), Power Imbalance, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral sex, Pussy Job/Grinding, Unprotected P in V sex, Mommy Kink, thoughts about future BDSM relationship, collaring and impact play)
The entrees hadn’t even been placed on the table when your date started to squirm in his seat. You stifled your sigh but still raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong, James? You’re wriggling like a toddler.”
He looked at you, sea blue eyes wide and a delightful flush working its way up his neck. His pink tongue snuck out and swiped over his lips, and you had to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about what that tongue would hopefully be doing soon.
“I…um… the thing is that… I….” He stopped, took a deep breath in, then let it out in a rush. “Idon’tthinkIcandothis.”
Before he could bolt, you reached across the tablecloth and took hold of his hand, rubbing your thumb back and forward over his wrist and shooting him your sweetest smile.
“Just breathe, James. Okay? We’re just two friends having dinner together. And if that’s all it is, that’s all it is. Let’s enjoy ourselves and then discuss… other things… later.”
He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and gave you a small nod, settling back in his seat. Just in time, actually, as the waiter arrived with your orders.
As the young, attractive man opposite you started to eat, you observed him over the rim of your wine glass. You’d first noticed Bucky when you were changing lecture halls between classes. You weren’t one of his professors, but your departments were situated in the same building. Not being his professor made what you wanted easier - you weren’t in a position of power to affect his grades. Okay, it was still a bit morally grey, but you could live with that. And what you wanted was him.
Men your age bored you. They thought the world owed them, they were completely self-absorbed, and none had the stamina to keep up with you. When you’d seen Bucky, you’d known he was the one. Being that bit younger, that bit more naive and innocent, you’d be able to mould him into the perfect lover, the perfect partner.
Last week you’d found him, distraught, out the back of the college coffee shop where he worked in order to afford his tuition. You’d overheard him talking to a coworker and fellow student a few days earlier about how there was an issue with his credit score and how he was going to have to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet. But that day, when he’d been at his lowest ebb, he’d allowed you to hug him as he told you that the till system was showing irregularities during some shifts, and the only common denominator was him, so he’d been let go.
You’d let him get it all out, held him in your embrace, there between the dumpsters, on the back steps. You made a promise to yourself then - the next time he cried in front of you, it would be from the pleasure you were giving him.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Prof. I could try to get another job, but they’re not likely to work my shifts around my classes or pay as well… and it’s not like I have many other skills either.”
You’d stroked your hand down his cheek, feeling the scratch of his stubble on your palm.
“Oh, James - can I call you James? You’ve got plenty of other skills you can use.”
You’d leant forward, getting closer to him.
“And people would pay for those skills. I would pay for those skills. And for exclusivity. You wouldn’t need to worry again about your tuition fees.”
His lips had parted as he took in what you said, and you couldn’t resist taking a kiss from him. He’d made a little whimper, and you’d drunk it in.
“Meet me for dinner on Saturday night, 8pm, at the little Italian just off campus. We can have a nice couple of hours getting to know each other and then talk about how we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement, alright?”
He’d nodded at you, still somewhat in shock about the whole turn of events, and you gave him another kiss, on the cheek this time, before sashaying away.
Now, here you were, and despite what Bucky had just blurted out, the fact that he’d turned up said more than he thought it did. His feet may be a little cold, but it was obvious he wasn’t disgusted or completely morally against your proposal; he just needed a little… persuasion. It’s a good job that you’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.
You put your all into your campaign. You asked him about himself, how his course was going, watching as he got more and more animated as he relaxed into a topic he was comfortable with. Then you started flirting, a double entendre here, a suggestive look there. He jumped when your foot rubbed up against his leg under the table but soon settled again, especially when you topped up his wine. The poor thing was used to cheap beer, not an expensive Beaujolais, and soon you knew the flush on his cheeks was from the alcohol and not his nerves.
Before dessert came, while he was in the bathroom, you rearranged your chair so it was now next to his, as opposed to across. He did a brief double-take upon his return but said nothing. Nor did the waiter when he delivered your sweets.
You offered Bucky a taste of yours, feeding him a portion off of your fork. You watched his eyes close in sugar-induced bliss and once again had to ignore the pooling of heat in your core. When he returned the favour, feeding you a piece of his cheesecake off his fork, you leant towards him and rested your hand on his upper thigh. You had to stifle a little smirk at the squeak he let out. When you sat back up, you didn’t remove it, continuing to eat your dessert one-handed and, every so often, giving the firm muscle under his slacks a brief massage.
He was tipsy when it came time to leave, and it didn’t take a lot of persuading on your part to convince him to come up to your apartment ‘for a coffee’. You sat close to him on your sofa, drawing invisible designs on his thigh with your finger while he watched, somewhat stupefied. Hormones and alcohol - such a potent mix, especially for the young.
“Would it be so bad, James? To have me take care of you? We’re two consenting adults, after all.”
You leaned in, purring in his ear, your fingers working higher and higher up his leg.
“Do you find me attractive, James? Just think, as an older woman, I’m more adventurous. And I know how to satisfy a man. I know just how to touch…” Your fingers walked over the bulge at his crotch, and he shuddered but didn’t pull away. “... and how to kiss…” You teased him with your lips, just brushing them across his, enticing him into returning the intimacy and then ducking away, leaving him wanting.
“You just have to say yes, James. One little word. Three letters. Say yes, and not only won’t you have to worry about money anymore, but you also get to enjoy yourself. My appetites are voracious, but an active young man such as yourself should have no trouble keeping up.”
You kissed him properly then, opening your mouth to him, drawing him closer with your free hand. You massaged his erection through his pants and knew you’d won when he cupped your face with one hand and groped at your breasts with the other.
“I need the word, baby. Just say it, and you can have what you want. I’ll take care of you.”
“I do! I want it. I want you. Yes. Yes!”His voice was breathy and slightly rough, giving you a thrill of anticipation.
Things progressed quickly thereafter. You stripped him down and pushed him onto your bed as you took your own clothes off in a strip tease. He watched, entranced, propped up on his elbows.
His cock, long and thick and utterly delicious looking, was so hard it was standing away from his abs. You approached the bed, standing between his thighs. You took hold of him with one hand, then lent down and swiped your tongue up his entire length. Bucky moaned, his eyes rolling back and arms collapsing under him. You teased him for a few more minutes, learning the feel and taste of him, weighing his balls in your hand, listening to his moans and whimpers. You wanted the main prize, however, and drew away so you could crawl up his body and straddle his hips.
He reached for you immediately, eyes wide with lust, and you bent over to meet his kiss. Your bodies rubbed against each other, his impressive cock nestled between your folds, sliding through your slick. He whined into your mouth, desperate and needy, before breaking the kiss so he could suckle on your breasts. You cupped the back of his head with your hand, holding him in place as you ground against him. You cried out as you came, soaking him with your arousal.
One orgasm was not enough for you; you hadn’t been lying when you told him your appetite was voracious. You lifted your hips, took hold of him and then slowly sank down. He slid easily into your sopping pussy, your muscles relaxed from your recent high, and it was little work to take him to the hilt. Settled, you gripped him hard and watched him shudder.
“Ohhh, fuck!”
“You like that, baby? You like me taking control of you, using you? Told you you’d enjoy it.”
You rolled your hips and started to ride him, gripping his firm pectorals for balance. You let out your own moan as you felt his cock rubbing against your insides. It felt so very good. Using your thighs, you began fucking yourself on him, bouncing up and down, your tits back in his face. He groped and kissed them, and you revelled in the feelings washing over you.
“That’s a good boy. Fuck. You have the most perfect cock. Making me so happy. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”
He nodded against your breasts, sucking an engorged nipple back into his mouth. Your fingers twisted in his hair and he sucked harder, his hips starting to move on their own, pistoning up into your fluttering cunt.
“I’ll look after you, James, take away all the pesky decision-making, all the stress, all the worry, and you can get this, any time you want. You’ll be my angel boy, my baby.”
You wanted, needed one last thing from him, and you had hopes that with the state he was in; vulnerable, horny, and slightly drunk, it would work.
“And if you’re my baby, what does that make me?”
You stopped moving and pulled his head back so that he let go of your breast and looked up at you. His face was slack, some drool at the corner of his mouth, cheeks pink, and eyes wide and dark. You pulsed your cunt around his cock.
“What. Do. You. Call. Me?”
“Mommy?” His voice was small, somewhat hesitant.
You started to gently rock your hips again and stroked his hair.
“Yes, James. I’m Mommy. Now, if you keep fucking me with that dick of yours and make me cum again, then you can cum, okay? You wanna keep playing with Mommy’s tits?”
He answered by immediately nuzzling back in, licking and sucking and biting, and you went back to riding him, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you came. Everything had come together as you envisaged. Bucky had just needed a couple of little nudges, and now he was yours. You couldn’t wait to start training him properly to be your good boy. The thought of him wearing the collar you had stashed away in your draw brought you closer to the edge. The follow-up thought of him bent over the footstool, ass all pink from a spanking, his cock hard and dribbling, pushed you over it.
“Fuck, James. God! Yes. You can cum now, baby. Cum for Mommy!” Your hips jerked as your muscles spasmed, pleasure lancing through your body. Bucky let out a series of moans and cries as he succumbed to his own pleasure, his cock pulsing inside you and filling you with his cum.
Bucky collapsed on the bed, and you lay yourself over him, your bodies heaving and sweaty. With gentle fingers, you pushed a lock of his hair off his forehead as he lay panting, eyes closed. He really was the most beautiful young man. You were thankful for the day you bumped into him.
Your eyes were drawn across the room, where your staff pass lay on your desk. Head of Cyber Studies. You’d worked for years in your field, practical as well as theoretical. Sometimes to stop a hacker, you have to act like one, so you’d gained various skills during your career. Skills that had now proved useful. You’d fix the changes you’d made to his credit score and the discrepancies in the coffee shop computer system in a few weeks. They wouldn’t impact his life long-term, but as you’d mused only a few minutes ago, he’d just needed a couple of nudges.
Now he was your baby, and you weren’t going to let anything take him away from you.
