#teacher harry au

[alexsays-no]

Introducing Darco to the art teacher & Daddy AU ♡

And the story continues with this dynamite duo of caos, I love them so much!!!

[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. ��Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

[mrtequilasunset]

I've been thinking about Kim and Harry in their mid twenties again. Sighs

[atlafan]

This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.

Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.

Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.

You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.

When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.

“Miss-“

“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”

“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”

“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”

“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”

“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”

“She was sick!”

“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”

“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”

“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”

“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”

“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”

“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”

“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”

“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.

“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”

“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”

“Are you done?”

“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”

“Yes. You were very clear.”

“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking prick.”

“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.

“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”

“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.

Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”

“I…”

“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”

“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”

“Do you still?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.

While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.

“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.

“Like a charm.”

“She said yes?!”

“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”

“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

[kitty-tea]

Teaching the teacher a lesson

Remus Lupin x teacher!reader

Sorry I couldn’t come up with a better title. Also there’s straight up BDSM in this, so don’t read if you’re a minor I guess.

Summary: you get a job as a teacher where you see your old teacher crush, Remus Lupin, and you couldn’t be any happier. He, however notices how much you’ve changed.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, nsfw, age gap, awkward sexual tension, mutual pining, teacher crush, dacryphilia kink, bdsm elements, dom/sub, teasing

Link to masterlist

The first day of school was just so (not) wonderful for Remus Lupin. He’d give anything to be able to shut himself in his classroom and not have to supervise the cafeteria during lunch.

He awkwardly shifted his weight on both legs as he scanned the room to make sure none of the students misbehaved. Instead of misbehaving students, his eyes landed on you next to a table nearby, having a conversation with the younger kids. You were kneeling down to their level, probably oblivious to how your ass was sticking out in that tight pencil skirt.

Stop it! She’s your former student! He told himself that even though you were an adult, it was still inappropriate for him to have these thoughts about you, but another part of him wouldn’t listen.

Before he transferred to working with the primary school kids, the last time he’d seen you was the year you graduated before going to university.

From what he could remember about you, you were kind of a brat. More than any student, he’d constantly go on about rules you broke whether it was sitting on top of desks (or his desk specifically,) not wearing your uniform properly, not calling him by his last name, and you even threw paper planes at him!

Remus didn’t fail to notice how much you changed after all those years. He couldn’t believe he recognized you. He could see the makeup you wore enhancing your features, and those glasses you liked to ditch were now complimenting your face shape. Instead of your long hair messily hanging past your shoulders, you had it up in a neat high bun, making you look like a sophisticated young woman. He also noticed under your skirt and blouse that you put on a little weight, filling out some curves on your body.

He hoped you did not just catch him involuntarily looking at you as you smiled and waved at him.

“Hi Remus.” Your heels clicked behind you on the polished floor as you walked over to where he was. He cringed at the sound of your voice using his first name. Oh great. You never used to smile at him unless you were in on a prank.

“I didn’t know you taught at this school.” You were standing so close to him that he was able to hear you clearly over the noise of students chattering.

“I transferred after you graduated.” He stated, not returning your smile. He turned towards the students, so that he wouldn’t have to face you.

“What year do you teach?” You asked.

“I teach the youngest students.” He answered. He hoped you’d go away soon so that he could go back to moping in his own thoughts.

“So do I!” You replied a little too happily for his liking. He grimaced at the feeling in his stomach as his eyes met yours. He did not want to think about how they went to your lips which now had lip balm on them instead of them being chapped, along with the perfume you started wearing.

He also wished that what he suspected wasn’t true, that you weren’t supervising lunchtime with him. “What are you doing here?” He asked just to confirm it.

“I’m on lunch duty with you. I feel so much more at ease knowing that I’m coworkers with my old teacher.” You said.

His heart dropped out of his chest.

For the rest of lunch, he spent his time standing in the corner staring off or staying close to the kids, so that it looked like he was busy talking to them and not trying to ignore you (he was.)

Your heart on the other hand, leapt out of your chest as your eyes landed on Mr. Lupin, or Remus as you started calling him. You had the biggest crush on him for years ever since he became your teacher. It’s not like you tried denying your inappropriate attraction towards him by acting out and misbehaving when he was around you in what you now realized was an immature way to get his attention.

You knew you’d gone too far with your antics, so you thought you could redeem yourself in his eyes by starting to act cordial with him on your first day teaching.

You understood that your crush on your former teacher turned coworker definitely didn’t go away as you felt a dull ache and a warm spot forming in your panties.

You were an adult now, it wasn’t technically illegal to flirt with older men, but it was obviously unprofessional for you to flirt with another teacher that used to teach you, and one who was much older than you.

You had known Remus for years. You weren’t clueless. You saw the way his eyes struggled to keep themselves from wandering all over your body. After years of crushing on him, it was exciting for you to see him try to hide his growing attraction towards you as an adult.

After saying goodbye to your students for the day, you went over what you’d say to Remus in your head. You wanted to sincerely apologize to him for all that you put him through in addition to proposing a new start with him, this time as coworkers not student and teacher.

It wasn’t hard for you to find his classroom since it was next to yours and it had “Mr. Lupin Room 3C” written on a card taped to the door.

It didn’t take long for a gruff voice to reply with “come in” muffled by the wood after you knocked on it.

As you opened the door, the familiar feelings of your literal school-girl crush fluttered in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound angry, just tired.

“I-” your words got stuck in your throat as he looked up from where he sat hunched down behind his desk. He certainly looked older than the last time you saw him before finishing school, but he was no less handsome in your eyes in that brown suit he used to wear when you were his student. Suddenly, you felt like the same immature student again, being asked to explain yourself as you nervously played with the hem of your sleeves.

“I just wanted to say hello.” You tried speaking again.

“You already have. During lunchtime.” You saw him grinding his jaw as his eyes raked over your body. He cleared his throat before standing up to grab his satchel and walk to the door, where you happened to be.

“Okay, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, then.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized how close he was standing in front of you. It seemed that you weren’t the only one either. He brushed his fingers through his brown hair, making you wish you could brush your fingers through them instead.

“For what?” He asked bemusedly.

“For being so annoying and giving you a hard time in school. I thought maybe we could start over?” You said hurriedly, blushing and looking at your high heels which were almost touching his loafers.

You bit your lip as you gazed into his eyes, hopeful he’d take up in your proposal. He looked down at your hand which you extended, as if considering the possibility.

“Nice try.” Your mouth hung open at his blank words and you didn’t know what to say.

“Excuse me?” Your hopes for starting a professional and cordial relationship with him were now ruined.

“Apologies are more than just words. You of all people should know that since I was the one who taught you that. Goodbye.” You gave him the same dirty look you used to give him as he turned his back towards you, leaving you alone in his classroom.

That was the first of your interactions with him in that school year. Being two teachers who taught students of the same year, you were often assigned together for most school related activities like yard duty, supervising lunch, and the field trips… you couldn’t stop the dull aching heat between your thighs as you both would have to sit on the same bench on the bus rides.

It was even worse when you were fidgeting in your seat one time, when all the sudden, the bus ran over a huge bump causing you to tumble on top of Remus with his knee under your skirt, between your legs. You had grasped onto his shoulders for stability and he had grabbed your waist when his eyes had widened as he realized where his knee had touched you. You were too frozen to where you couldn’t stop staring at his lips that were close enough to yours that if you leaned in a millimeter more, you’d kiss him.

“Sorry.” You let out an exhale which was interrupted as you realized how good your pussy felt when you rubbed it against his thigh in an attempt to get off of him.

You were thankful that your students were young and innocent enough not to suspect anything, not to jump to conclusions if they saw you in your compromising position.

For the rest of the bus ride, you tried not to think about how your new coworker had accidentally turned you on.

It wasn’t like Remus would ever try to deny your flirting. You knew this because he never actively pushed you away. Every time you’d pass by him, you’d give his shoulder or arm a little brush where you’d catch his hungry gaze on you.

You were alone in the teachers’ lounge, the rest of the staff having gone home already.

Even in heels, you still weren’t tall enough to reach for the folders that were on the top shelf, so you did what anybody would do and positioned yourself on the table so that your knees would hold your weight up.

A shiver went up your spine as you felt a presence behind you.

“Need help?” Remus’ husky voice made its way to your ear.

You were glad your back was turned to him so that he couldn’t see how red your cheeks had gotten. You were also glad that he didn’t wait for you to answer him as he reached above your head, making his weight shift onto your ass where you could’ve sworn you felt a bulge.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” You could’ve sworn he was smirking behind you as he set the empty folders next to you.

You turned around, hoping that he’d backed up to give you enough space to get off, but what you didn’t expect was for his hands to be on your waist, blocking you.

“What do you say?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Thank you.” You put your hand on his shoulder to use as leverage to get yourself down from the table.

“Wow. Seems you aren’t such a brat anymore.” He laughed.

“What does that supposed to mean?” You thought you had grown past your immature teenage self, but apparently you had let Remus get under your skin with his backhanded compliment.

“There she is.” He scoffed. “With that same fucking attitude that did no good. You’re not so high and mighty now just because you’re a teacher.”

You didn’t know if your face was red from anger, embarrassment, or something else.

“Don’t act like I haven’t been nice to you.” You countered back heatedly.

“Too nice.” His voice had gotten lower.

“Anyways,” you tried to ignore the tingling feeling in your stomach that erupted as you saw him gazing at your lips with the lack of distance between you. “I actually tried showing you how much I changed.”

He scoffed again.

“By being nice? You know flirting won’t get you anywhere.”

You realized he just admitted to you straight up that he caught onto your flirting.

“Don’t act as if you haven’t changed the way you used to look at me. I saw you checking me out on the first day of school.” This was your way of probing at him.

“What?! I-”

“It’s okay to stare. I know because I used to do it to you… Not that I stopped.” You purred, running your fingers lightly along his firm chest.

Remus grunted at the pleasurable sensation. You were driving him crazy, and not like how you used to when you were his student. Speaking of which, he kept reminding himself that what he was letting you do to him was unprofessional and inappropriate, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to stop you.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to fuck the hot teacher.” Your lips were so almost touching his earlobe.

“Stop it.” He grabbed your wrists.

“Or else what? How are you gonna punish me?” You licked your lips. “Except you can’t. Because I’m the teacher.”

He realized you had a point as he let go of your wrists.

“How about this? It’s getting late, so I’ll order some food for us.” You suggested. Please say yes. You wished Remus could read your mind.

“You don’t have to do that for me.” He waved you off as he moved to grab his cardigan off the chair.

“Please. It’s the least I could do for you.” Remus felt a sliver of guilt at rejecting your proposal as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “And… I want to.”

After Remus had reluctantly taken up on your offer, you had ordered take out on your phone. By the time the food arrived, you were still fighting over who was going to pay. You insisted you pay because it was your idea and you wanted to do him a favor while he didn’t really have a counterargument other than he really wanted to pay. This led to him shoving cash into the driver’s hands and shutting the door before you had a chance to do anything.

“You did all that with your hands?” You rolled your eyes and laughed while nervously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“I can do other things with my hands too.”

Remus was unaware of how suggestive what he said was until you looked from his eyes to his crotch while licking your lips.

“I’d love to know what other things.” You said, making Remus swallow loudly at how low and seductive your voice sounded.

You both ate across the table from each other in an awkward silence, each of you mentally coming up with topics to discuss preferably away from whatever it is you were talking about earlier. Remus needed to find a way to cool down from the sexual tension from earlier.

“How was your life after you graduated?” Remus was the first to talk.

“It was a bit boring really. All I did was study in university, and didn't really go out much.” You said before shoving an entire dumpling in your mouth with your chopsticks. Remus couldn’t control the corner of his mouth as it turned upwards. You looked silly, like a cartoon chipmunk.

“How have you been?” You asked once you had swallowed your food.

“Alright.” He shrugged.

“Really? There’s got to be more. Haven’t you gone on any dates?” Remus’ eyes widened at your inquiries of his relationship status as he felt the tip of your shoes dipping under the hem of his trouser leg.

“No, actually.” He was able to compose himself enough to draw out a steady response as he tried to ignore how much his dick was starting to ache and the fact that he noticed you had taken off your shoe making him feel the soft nylon covering your foot gliding upward.

“That’s a shame. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

And I want that woman to be me, you thought.

While you enjoyed this little game you were playing with Remus, you didn’t like that it usually led to nowhere. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. It was that obvious. You knew you were terrible at hiding your feelings for someone whenever you had a crush, but this time, with Remus you didn’t care. He wasn’t your teacher anymore, you were both adults, and you were equals. Something sparked within you every time you saw him get flustered around you. You wanted to keep that spark going. Even if it was a boring day where all the students had the day off for professional development day, leaving the school campus occupied by no one but the staff.

In addition to the staff meeting being extremely long, you could tell it was going to be extremely boring even though this was only your first year of teaching at the school.

You cursed yourself for waking up an hour later than you intended to, leaving you barely enough time to do anything other than throw on your clothes. You couldn’t prepare any breakfast for yourself or stop by a cafe, so you were left with lazily braiding your hair on the bus ride while mentally coming up with how you would apologize to everyone.

Clutching your book bag against the side of your body, you swung the door open to the staff room. Multiple eyes met yours, some glaring, others just blank, as if they were expecting you to be the type of young teacher to slack off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” You apologized awkwardly as you tucked some hair behind your ear, being afraid to face the older staff whom you thought would silently berate you on your tardiness with their scowls.

“Nothing to worry about.” Your boss, Dumbledore was standing in front of the table with his hands folded in front of him. “Remus was kind enough to save a seat for you.”

True to his word, Remus was sitting next to an empty seat. He was looking at you with a smirk like it was meant only for you to see. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgment as you smoothed out your skirt underneath you and sat down on the chair.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the meeting resumed. You reached into your book bag and took out your notepad before absentmindedly scribbling down whatever came up that you thought would be important enough for later.

You had no idea how long you’d been writing for when you suddenly became aware of the large hand that was on your knee. You looked to your right, expecting Remus to be glancing at you, but he looked just as bored as half of the people in the room did, looking straight ahead. You had to look down again to make sure it was really the same hand that was connected to his body.

You squeezed your legs together in an attempt to sooth that dull ache that got stronger each time Remus decided to move his hand just a tad higher until you sucked in a breath as you saw it disappear under your skirt. Remus on the other hand looked unfazed as he used his impressive strength to push your legs apart with one hand. It’s not like you were resisting as he rubbed circles along the exposed skin.

You bit your lip as you felt the tip of his calloused finger trace along the lace edge of your panties. You started to squirm in the damp spot that was forming dangerously close to where his fingers were.

It was as if in that moment, every other person in the room beside you and Remus were pushed to the back of your mind. You were still aware of their presence, it’s just that you didn’t care. You still had enough self awareness to try and keep the expression on your face neutral no matter how badly you wanted to scream as you felt the blunt end of Remus’ fingernail teasing the swollen nub above the dampness of the cotton. That overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation he was imposing on you felt so wrong in a place like this and so good. Your mind was in that zone between wanting him to stop and wanting him to keep going. You wondered how the small movements of his fingers could be so precise and so impactful at the same time.

You could feel the pleasure escalating directly onto your clit as you held your breath, desperately hoping no one else at this dreadful meeting was paying attention to you except for Remus. More than anything, you changed your mind and decided you wanted him to continue pleasuring you like this to distract you. You’d have to be quiet, you told yourself.

Being quiet just got harder because you felt his fingers move inside of your panties, coating themselves along your throbbing pussy.

There was no going back for you. You kept your head down, too aware of how red your face had become, as you gripped the armrests of your chair.

Meanwhile Remus continued to rub tight circles on your clit, this time, it was like you felt the grooves of his fingerprint on the oversensitive bundle of nerves, and the experience of having someone else do it to you felt different and so much more exciting than doing it to yourself.

You could tell Remus was experienced as he knew the exact spots to touch you to make you feel like you were on the edge, but not quite over it.

You didn’t have to look at him to know that son of a bitch knew you were hating and loving this moment and what he was doing to you.

“Is she okay?” You heard some of the older teachers ask. You didn’t think they were talking about you, so you chose not to reply.

That was when Remus pulled his fingers out, and with that same hand, he set it on your shoulder. “You alright?” He asked gently. That was when you were brought out of your trance, not realizing how loudly you were panting.

You were mortified when you turned to look at him and could see your juices on his fingers, still wet and glistening under the lighting. You wished your chair would just swallow you up.

You heard Dumbledore chuckle from the front of the room. You thought he was mocking you for not paying attention, but you didn’t care. You wanted to leave, and it looked as if he answered your prayers. “Perhaps the meeting is getting a little too boring for some of us. Not to worry, there is a lunch break coming up.” He said.

Lunch? That’s right. Your stomach started to grumble when you realized you hadn’t eaten anything since waking up, nor did you bring anything to eat. That left you with drinking from the water fountain outside as your only option.

You heard footsteps behind you as you took a sip from the fountain.

“Have you got any idea how much of a compromising position you’re in?” You heard Remus’ voice and you could swear he was staring at your ass.

“Now I do.” You stood up straight as you met his eyes. “Especially after the little stunt you pulled.”

“What stunt?” He smirked. He knew what you were referring to. “Oh. Yes, the one where I embarrassed you, reminding you of the slut you are?”

You gasped. You never in a million years thought you’d hear someone who used to be in a position of power over you straight up call you a slut (except for in your fantasies) and it turned you on when he did.

“Is that what you wanted? Did you want me to finish the job too?” He said in that low, husky voice as he stepped closer to you. You weakly nodded as you looked up, only to quickly look back down at the intensity of his stare. “Use your words.” You felt the backs of his fingers brush against your heated cheek as he used them to bring your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“I… I want this… I want you.” You whispered, looking deep into his eyes hoping he’d get the point.

“Are you sure?” Now it was his turn to look shy. He was scratching his light brown stubble and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We could go back to how things were before and pretend nothing between us happened.” He was lying of course. He would never be able to pretend nothing happened between you two.

“Remus, please kiss me.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. You were hopelessly turned on, and there was no going back for either of you.

He turned his head away from you, making you worried that he was rejecting you only for him to say, “We need to make sure the door to my classroom is locked first.”

As soon as the door to the classroom was locked, Remus had you pinned against it with his hands on your hips.

“My God, you’re so beautiful.” He let out an exhale as his thumb traced your bottom lip, making you shiver both at the words and physical contact.

You’d never felt more alive than when he finally crashed his lips onto yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Remus asked, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.

You nodded. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.” You’ve been a prankster and a nuisance, but you’d never lie about something as serious as this.

Everything around you started to become a blur as Remus continued to kiss you while walking you to where his desk was until your ass was planted against it.

“Look at you.” His eyes glided up and down your body like a wolf checking out his next meal. “Is my needy slut not satisfied? Does she want more?” Fuck, he really hit the nail on the head with that one.

Remus took a seat on his chair before he patted his thigh. You took a gulp before turning around, but not before he put his hand on your lower back, stopping you. “Not so fast.”

You looked to him behind you, and raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t deserve to sit on a throne like a Princess. Bad girls like you need the right discipline.” You didn’t need for him to explain to you that you understood how this was going to work.

You were in a position of obedience. You took a deep breath as you placed yourself on his lap, chest and torso pressed against his lower body.

“That’s better.” Remus chuckled from above you as he ran his finger along the skin of your inner thigh. It then felt like only a moment before his entire hand wrapped around it with his thumb lightly tracing along your clothed pussy. You let out a soft moan as you raised your ass up in an attempt to grind against his fingers before he pulled them away.

“You’ve completely soaked through your panties. Such a needy, little slut.” He said in response to how your body reacted to his touch. “Here’s what I’ll do.” He started to say as he gathered your hands behind your back. You heard the sound of fabric shuffling and you felt something smooth around your wrists, which you guessed was a necktie. “How about I teach this slut a lesson, and if she’s a good girl, I’ll give her a special reward?”

“What reward? What do you mean?” Your demanding questions came out in a way that made you sound whiny as you squirmed on his lap.

Remus knew if he continued letting you move around on his lap, his erection would only get more unbearable to the point of not being able to contain himself, and that’s not what he wanted. He needed you to understand that he was the one in control, and you were only under his mercy.

He couldn’t help admiring the plumpness of your ass that was covered by the thin material of your panties as he lifted your skirt. He could even see the damp spot on the gusset that he had been looking forward to committing to his memory.

“Ow!” You shut your eyes as you felt a sharp slap on your skin.

“That’s what you get.” He whispered in your ear. Something about his voice sounded different. Maybe feral. It only reminded you of how much you wanted to see this side of him more often, growling in your ear, making you feel like a small prey he deserved to feast on.

“Think you can be quiet?” He asked as he slid his thumb inside your panties where it found your swollen lips.

“Yes.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back another scream this time as he delivered a second spank to your bottom.

“I don’t think so.” He scoffed harshly as he yanked your panties down your legs and bunched up the piece of fabric soaked with your juices into a ball before quickly forcing it into your mouth. “There. I won’t have such a hard time getting you to shut up.”

This was it. You were silenced. You were nothing but a toy to him, stuffed with no way to talk back. You couldn’t be happier with how it was, you were under his control as he used your body in ways you craved to be used.

“Don’t worry, Beautiful. I’ll take good care of you.” He soothingly stroked his long fingers over your scalp, undoing your braid and making your hair fall around your face.

With his other hand, he pushed your legs apart, exposing your warm, wet cunt to the dry air. Your body stiffened at the sharp contrast. God, you so desperately wanted him to insert something into your aching hole already! You didn’t care if it was his fingers or his cock, you needed to be filled up good and full until-

Your thoughts were interrupted as another spank, this time harsher than the others, was inflicted on the raw skin you were sure already had red welts forming there. You would’ve been pleased if that were the case. You wanted to be marked as his.

Another spank landed on the other side of your ass.

In contrast to the pain on your ass, the pleasurable sensation of his fingers dragging along your folds was enough to make you moan so loudly even the make-shift gag couldn’t muffle it completely. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get his fingers into you deeper, but he pulled them away too fast for you. You felt tears stream down your face accompanied by pathetic sobs.

“This is what you get for being a bad girl.” With each word that he growled, each slap on your ass, the ache only grew deeper inside your cunt, reminding you how much you needed him.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the spanking was replaced by his large hand softly rubbing circles on the raw skin. By the time he was done, your legs were shaking as much as your breaths. This was only the beginning.

You stood on shaky legs that would’ve fallen had it not been for the assistance of the desk behind your or Remus holding your hips in place.

“I just wanted to see how beautiful you look, crying, before I bend you over my desk.” He gently brushed the tears under your eyes with his thumb. If it weren’t for the situation you were in, one could mistake the look on Remus’ face as sympathetic.

As quick as he was to show his gentle side, he roughly turned you around and pushed your back forward. With your hands still tied behind your back, you weren’t able to catch yourself as the force of your chest slamming on top of the desk knocked the breath out of you.

“Aww, does my crybaby slut want it now?” He cooed into your ear as he brushed some hair back. “Has she got no more tears left in her eyes? Why don’t I check on that cunt? I’m sure it’s weeping more than your eyes have in your life.”

Why was he being such a tease? If he wanted to tease you, you would’ve rather have him tease you with his fingers not his taunting words.

Another sob ripped through your shaking body as his finger curled inside of you.

“Fucking hell, I can’t do this anymore.” You heard him whisper to himself behind you. You wanted to smirk as you heard the sound of the belt and zipper being undone.

It was as if your pussy could finally breathe in relief as the smooth tip of his cock found your entrance and soon after, the entire length was able to slide in, making not only your pussy feel full, but also your belly.

“Fuck! You’re so wet.” Remus grunted as he held onto your shoulder, pressing it against the hardwood. You didn’t mind the pain on your shoulder that was accompanied by each thrust. Pleasure was the only thing that mattered to you.

You’d gotten to the point where you realized you could no longer rely on your fingers or your toys to make you feel full and pleasured the same way Remus was making you feel. You were his dependent whore, that’s how you’d come to see it. And you loved it. You loved every thrust and every time his cock would hit the right places, the tightness inside you became stronger until you felt it explode (or it was combined with Remus spilling himself inside you,) making you sob loudly. You needed a moment to collect yourself.

“Did you also cum?” He asked as soon as he caught his breath. You nodded. “You’re so irresistible you don’t know how hard it is to keep myself from spilling inside you so fast.”

You felt him tug on the tie around your wrists, pulling your body against his chest.

“You were such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Yes, this moment was the proudest you’d ever seen him being of you.

You didn’t realize how stiff your jaw had become until he took out your bunched up panties from your mouth, and put them in his back pocket.

“I haven’t got a spare… it’s so sticky down there.” Your weak protest was shut with a smirk on his lips.

“Too bad. Deal with it. Let it be a reminder of the dirty whore you are.” He said, encircling his arms around your body to untie your wrists. You brought them to your sides, bending them back and forth, relieved to be freed.

Once the two of you had fixed yourselves back to decency, you heard your stomach rumbling, reminding you of the lack of food you’d eaten.

“Would you… like to come over to my place after we’re done with the meeting? You must be starving. I can cook for you or get some takeout, whatever you want. You don’t have to. I just mean, if it’s something you’d want to do with me.”

Now it was your turn to make him shut up as you pressed your lips onto his cheek. “I’d love to.”

[sliebman10]

Teacher AU

(Harry's loss of his parents is discussed but nothing is graphically described)

“Hello, I’m looking for Professor Lupin,” a voice said from the hallway outside Remus’s third grade classroom. 

“Can I help you?” Remus asked politely.

“I have an appointment regarding Harry Potter? I’m Sirius Black, his…godfather,” Sirius said, stumbling slightly over the relationship. It was all so new, after all. But he couldn’t think about that now.

Remus wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he’d arranged the conference with Harry’s guardian, but this tall man with long hair and a leather jacket was not it. He offered his hand and Mr. Black shook it and Remus couldn’t help the jolt of energy he felt when he touched this man’s hand.

He gestured for Mr. Black to sit. He’d prepared a speech about how Harry was acting out, and he’d referred him to the school counselor, but maybe he needed outside therapy…but he forgot all of that as he watched Mr. Black, who was now lounging comfortably in a small plastic chair next to Remus’s desk. 

“Is there someone who usually sits here?” Sirius asked, looking sideways at Remus, taking in his messy curls and cardigan with the sleeves pushed up to reveal his rather sinewy forearms

“That's not a permanent seat, no,” Remus answered. “A student might sit there if we are having a conference about their work…or if they need some space from their group to concentrate.”

“Does Harry sit here?” Sirius asked. The question had weight to it. Both of them could feel it. Remus knew what he was asking. Does Harry sit there because he can’t cope with being that close to his classmates?

“Sometimes,” Remus responded, truthfully.

Sirius nodded, like he was expecting it. “What should I do?” Sirius’s voice sounded small. Without thinking about it, Remus reached out and took his hand. It was cool, and his fingers were long and lean. Sirius curled them around Remus’s gratefully.

“Is he in therapy?”

“Yeah, But he hates going,” Sirius said, with a sad smile. Remus didn’t blame him. Not many nine year olds would want to talk about their feelings after losing their parents.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Sirius looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Remus asked softly, wondering about his real motive for asking but then deciding he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see these two sink under their shared grief. 

“I mean…I guess? I thought we were here to talk about Harry?” Sirius said, a mischievous expression crossing his features but was gone so quickly Remus thought he imagined it.

“Right,” Remus said, embarrassed.

“But I’ll tell you what, Professor…we can chat about me over drinks tomorrow night.”

Word Count: 441

@wolfstarmicrofic

[halfa-failure]

Ok that’s it for the day (it’s 12:23 AM)

[inkyarcturus]

Fun idea I’ve had bouncing around about Remus:

You know how queer/neurodivergent kids have that one teacher that they bond to? You know what I’m talking about- you’ve seen the memes about the gay kid and the English/art teacher bond.

I like to imagine that Remus just has a tiny group of kids who hung out in his classroom to feel safe.

He would leave his door open constantly and during lunch, he would offer to call a house elf for hot chocolate, tea, biscuits or other sweets for the kids. If he noticed one of his kids doesn’t eat lunch, he would quietly pull them to the side and ask what was up.

The kids would talk to him abt literally anything under the sun. Some would even go and ask for help for other classes (quite a few for potions, none of which were slytherins)

He’d have a small bowl of pride pins and flags up for grabs on his desk which his kids occasionally take, always causing him to give a little smile to the kid.

I don’t know. I just image Remus as the designated safe teacher. He’d be the one to notice a kid struggling and offer help or ask what’s wrong. He’d be the one that students go to when they have problems at home, were being bullied or just needed someone to talk to.

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

TWO

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic.

ONE THREE

You open your eyes, feeling a strange pain in your head but relief in your back. You're lying on a very soft bed. But you don't recognize the place; it seems to be someone else's room. There's more light in the room, fewer scattered books. The furniture looks expensive, all in a dark tone. You try to get up from the bed, but you end up staggering. Once again, your body is back on the bed. You think it might be best to go back to sleep until someone shows up. It's exactly at that moment that Sirius enters through the door. He carries a cup and is watching you almost without making any noise.

"How long are you going to keep watching me?" You ask while still lying in bed. Sirius laughs, and you feel relieved that you've broken what could have been an awkward moment between you.

"Is that how you're going to talk to the man who saved you from death twice? I thought you'd know how to be more grateful." Sirius responds as he leans his body against the desk in the room. You sit up in bed, after some effort, and stare at Sirius. He's wearing new, elegant, dark clothes.

"If you're expecting gratitude from me, you'll have to wait until I'm in a better mood. My head is a mess. Did you bring me here?" You wonder how you ended up in Sirius's room. Then you wonder where Remus is. Did you hallucinate meeting someone named Remus? And if he does exist, why did he leave you with Sirius?

"Remus and I. It was teamwork. We didn't want you to get hurt anymore. Before you ask, Remus and I are very close. When you're Lupin's problem, you're my problem too." Sirius then hands you the cup. There's what seems to be herbal tea inside, and you don't waste time asking whether you should drink it or not. You quickly ingest the tea, and almost instantly, you feel relief from the pain in your head.

"I'm grateful and offended at the same time. What do you mean, problem? I'm not a problem for either of you. In fact, I find it rather rude of you to refer to me as a problem." You say as soon as you finish the tea. Apparently, you managed to rise and stand up immediately after getting angry with Sirius. He seems to have a talent for irritating you.

"Hey, hey, hey princess. Relax. I didn't mean to offend you, but let's just say taking care of you was an inconvenience. Remus had to go teach, but today is my day off. A day away from the little ones." Sirius says, smiling slyly. You look into Sirius's eyes and wonder how he can be someone's teacher.

"You're a bit childish for a teacher. Not that I'm saying you're not qualified to teach, but..." you say, being suggestive. You notice he's no longer smiling, which is a pity. His smile is beautiful. As beautiful as he is.

"I'll forgive you for the attitude and offer to take you to the room where you should be going to teach. Right now." Sirius says, somewhat arrogantly, and pretending to be modest. At least, that's what it seems like he's doing.

"How? I just arrived, I can't just already have to teach, can I?" You had no idea that there would already be a class waiting for you. Things at Hogwarts seem to happen too quickly.

"McGonagall doesn't mess around. Apparently, you'll be substituting for my esteemed friend Lily Potter. Her health is fragile at the moment. But enough details. Let's go. The brats are eager to meet you." Sirius says, almost excitedly. Then he puts his hand out in front of you as if he wants you to take his hand. And you hold his hand, which is as cold as winter. But soft; very soft. And then he guides you, holding your hand with some firmness.

"Shouldn't I meet with this McGonagall or Dumbledore? Am I just going to arrive and start teaching?" You speak as you practically run through the corridors behind Sirius. He seems focused.

"McGonagall is busy dealing with a student who locked herself in the bathroom, and now everyone can hear her moans, and many students are nervous about it. As for Dumbledore, he's traveled to a meeting between some influential school directors in London. He won't be back for a few weeks. But trust me, you're in good hands." Sirius says, almost breathless as you're both almost running everywhere. Oh dear, how will you manage to teach after sprinting through almost the entire school at this speed?

"Tell me we've arrived. My feet can't handle climbing another staircase. At this rate, you'll have to carry me." You say, letting go of Sirius's hand for a moment and catching your breath.

"Nice way to flirt with me, but we've arrived. You're new here, they probably tried to intimidate you. I hope you survive. Take good care of my godson. See you later, Y/N." Sirius says quickly, with a playful smirk on his face, and then he disappears. How does he manage to be so fast?

Summoning courage, you enter the classroom. It's a room with an old-fashioned style, furniture made of the finest wood, and several students who look at you as if you've committed a crime.You compose yourself as you walk to the teacher's desk. It's a large desk, with a big book on top of it and a attendance list. You look at the class and notice that the boys who were fighting when you arrived are your students.

"So, students. I'm your substitute teacher. I'll be taking over this class until the previous teacher can return. I hope you'll receive me with the same respect that I'll give to you." You speak in a steady tone, neither too loud nor too soft.

"You hear that, Potter? Now you won't be privileged with high grades just for being the teacher's son. Finally, all of Hogwarts will discover what a loser you are." The boy, whom you believe to be called Draco, speaks almost across the room, addressing the dark-haired boy.

"You continue to delude yourself with your nonsense, Malfoy. If you put half as much effort into studying as you do into trying to belittle me, you'd probably be smarter." Potter speaks, and you just observe them with a serious expression.

"You know what? I think you two need to learn to put your energy into something other than taunts and senseless aggression. Malfoy and Potter, pair up and be the first to do today's class activity. For the other students, pair up as you prefer and start drawing. Today's task for everyone is to draw an animal that represents you as a pair. The best pair will earn extra credit. I suggest that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter showcase their skills if they truly want to measure intelligence." You walk around the room as you write the task on the board and listen to the students forming their pairs. Everyone except the two mortal enemies. Apparently, they really don't want to do this task together.

"Teacher, with all due respect, it's not possible for you to believe that Draco Malfoy and I will do well in this task." Potter says as he adjusts his glasses on his face. He speaks assertively, and you look at him, trying to decide what to respond to him.

"Even though Potter is a fool, he's right. Not to mention that you've just arrived here and are already treating the two of us differently. It's not fair that the others can choose their partners and we have to stay together." Draco speaks, all full of himself, as if he's making a beautiful defense of why he's being unjustly treated. You chuckle lightly.

"I'll be clearer. You're going to work together, you're going to do a good job, and all of this in harmony. Otherwise, neither of you will receive a grade. Now, save all that energy for the beautiful drawing you're going to make. I'll be sitting at my desk waiting to evaluate you and all the other obedient classmates you have." You say, sitting in the comfortable chair designated for the teacher and opening the book on the desk. Malfoy and Potter must have realized that you wouldn't change your mind and decided to pair up. You took attendance, finally discovering that Potter's name is Harry, that the smart girl who draws beautifully is Hermione Granger, and that the boy she's paired with, who spends most of his time distracting her, is named Ron Weasley. Time passes quickly, and soon you're collecting the class's drawings to evaluate later. Draco and Harry did a great job together, but that didn't stop Malfoy from threatening to call his father to the school if you forced him to be near Potter.

"How was your first day?" Remus asks as soon as all your students leave the room for recess, and you stay behind to organize some things.

"A madness. Seriously, I thought my night was a mess, but waking up in Sirius's room in the early afternoon and then coming to teach was insane. Not to mention that the students I separated from a fight this morning are my students. And I think both of them will end up hating me by the end of my time here. And I lost my suitcase. But don't let me overwhelm your ears with my nonsense." You say, feeling lighter when you finish speaking, as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. Remus seems somewhat enchanted by your moment of venting. Or maybe his eyes always look too friendly? The smile is charming too.

"I can try to solve some of your problems. Harry is like a nephew to me, not to mention he's Sirius's godson. I can talk to him about this situation with Malfoy. As for your suitcase, it might be with me. I was walking through the forest a little before I found you in my room, and I saw this strange suitcase there. It was dirty with blood, so I preferred to clean it first, but I can take you to the suitcase. And then, of course, you can have a coffee with me." Remus says in a very sweet way, which leaves you a bit enchanted. For some reason, you feel that being near him is refreshing or comforting, something like that. You can't quite explain it yourself. You feel the impulse to hug him, which is quite strange. But you manage to control yourself.

"I can't refuse an invitation like that, especially when you offer me a solution not only to one but to two of my problems. Lead the way to the cafeteria because I'm dying for a cappuccino." You say, walking with Remus, who is walking quite calmly. Then you go together to the cafeteria, and you feel like you might enjoy your time at Hogwarts, even if it's short-lived.

[ravishinglavishingluvr]

preschool teacher!James

As much as I can see James Potter as a bodyguard, rugby player, drummer, etc. he would be the perfect preschool teacher. He would wear cozy sweaters and greet kids with high fives and fistbumps every morning. James would most definitely play with them on the playground or watch over them with a frown, pout and a cup of tea in hand. I just know that he would have a jar of special sweets on his desk. The kids would think that he’s the coolest because he wears baggy jeans and converse and their parents don’t. Parents would adore when he sends home their children’s arts and crafts. When they cry he’ll sit with them in the book corner on a giant bean bag and stroke the hair at the napes of their necks because that’s how his father comforted him when he was a child. James takes decorating his classroom very seriously, he tries his best to make it a safe and bright place for the kids. Children from other classes or babies who just learned how to walk always pay his classroom a visit and only leave when their teachers come looking for them. The kids love to cuddle him because he’s just so soft. When people ask about work he’ll talk about the kids as if they’re his own. He always hates when the year is over because it means that they’ll be going to the next grade and won’t be in his class anymore. He adores these kids so much that when it’s the end of the school year he cries on his way home because they just grow up so fast :(

[alexsays-no]

Art teacher & Daddy part.6

Last parent teacher meeting, and James finally makes a move

[thedyingwriter]

ok so hear me out. I have this feeling that as time passes steve's fashion sense evolves and he starts experimenting with colors and fabrics. around the present time or maybe let's say in the 2010-2020 decade when he's older and gay marriage is legal and he's finally able to openly express his sexuality and enjoy dates with eddie he dresses more boldly and tries to express his sexuality through his clothing. for some reason I don't know why i can imagine him having some kind of a similar style to present day harry styles. lots of pinks and pastels and rainbows, extra baggy jeans, cardigans, pearl necklace (i can really see him with pearls as a signature look) or any kind of accessories, frills and lace.

and since we all love the rockstar!eddie x teacher!steve trope so much it would be really funny to imagine the internet going crazy after finding out their favorite metal head who literally can't wear anything except black is married to a middle school teacher who dresses like harry styles.

[joeytime]

Maxiel Hogwarts Au...

If you asked Max what he thought of Hogwarts, he would likely make a joke about pigs and insult their quidditch teams.

He isn't sure it's smart to do that now, in the middle of the Hogwarts' grand hall, completely surrounded by Hogwarts' students and staff. He isn't sure he could escape even if he had his broom.

"Wow, you really hate Hogwarts." The dreaded hat says atop his hair.

Shut up! Max thinks furiously at it. Get out of my head!

Everyone stares intensely at Max, not daring to breathe while the fate of the member of the national quidditch team is being decided. Even the teachers are at the edge of their seats, other than Dumbledore, he seems to know where Max will inevitably end up.

"Little quidditch champion. Everyone is expecting" The hat says, as if it's life of forever moving from head to head to call one of four words is somehow a greater destiny than Max's.

It's not. Max knows he will go on to succeed in life, and win as many quidditch championships as he wants and then retire on an island in The Maldives with a butt load of cash while the hat is left in a dusty room, waiting for it's yearly use. Max wants to reach to rip it up but it would not be wise to do so in front of Dumbledore himself. His hands stay in his lap, frown etched on his face.

"Impatient. Immature." Max's fingers twitch slightly. There is only so much backtalk one can take from a hat.

"Violent and uncaring, wherever will I put you?" Max doesn't agree with that description, he cares plenty, about winning that is.

"Foolish. Foolish boy." It doesn't hurt, Max has heard those words plenty of times.

Max sulks.

It's a beat of silence before the suspense reaches its climax. "Hufflepuff! " The hat hollers, not bothering to consult Max on it's decision. Which is very rude and impolite.

The entire room erupts into chaos, screams of "What! " and "No way! No way!" echo throughout the hall.

Max can't help but agree, he thought he might end up in Gryffindor or Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw if he was super unlucky. But Hufflepuff? His father was going to disown him. The media are going to have a field day. Well they were going to already, regardless of which house Max was put in.

Dumbledore moves to pull the hat off of Max, the treacherous thing whispers one last time: "Things will make sense in time. Be patient. Do not mope."

Max doesn't mope. Verstappens can't mope, so he doesn't.

Dumbledore gently guides a slightly speechless Max to the Hufflepuff table, pushing him into the seat before winking and walking off.

Max wants to burn down this school.

Cheers erupt from the Hufflepuff table, hands coming to pat him on the back and fawn over him.

The other tables seem miserable at the prospect of losing out on a quidditch champion.

"Oh my god! Hi! Hi! Oh my god! It's you!" A boy excitedly chatters to his left, other students crowd around him and Max suddenly finds that he can't breathe. It's like he's small again, after being knocked off his broom by an overly excited big kid. He had fallen to the ground, too exhausted and overwhelmed to get back up.

His father had been mad, really mad. He hadn't slept well again after that.

"Guys! Guys! He doesn't look so good. " Whoever that is, is definitely right, Max can hardly breathe, he tries to use the breathing technique his father taught him after his first match, control his breathing. It doesn't work, it only causes the panic and urgency in his veins to surge. It did work, it's purpose was to put him on guard, not calm down.

He curls into himself, hands around his ears to protect from the deafening sound of crowds cheering. His bubble of personal space is of course pried and poked at. Fans never had any self awareness when it came to these matters and his father never did have sympathy for personal space.

Hands are pried away from him, he can hear outraged screeching at the action. His own quidditch team's screams when he was 6 years old and pulled away to join the older kids. They thought it wasn't fair that a small boy climbed the ranks faster than they did.

"Hey! Hey! Everyone back up right now!" The entire opposing team bombarding him in an attempt to stop him. The referee's reprimand that fell on deaf ears.

The people at his sides are replaced and gentle hands hold him back up, out of the ball he curled himself into.

Max doesn't dare look up, too afraid at the thought of seeing his father's judgemental look.

"Hey, are you okay? " Max turns his head, soft, gentle, warm eyes, concerned. Jos was never concerned, he was the uncaring one! Not Max!

"I'm fine. " A repeated response, practiced again and again every time he came home to his mother.

The teen with the soft eyes gestures for another boy to sit on Max's other side. The boy opposite Max looks on in concern.

"Hello. I'm Daniel Riccardo, I'm a prefect of Hufflepuff, it's nice to meet you." The gentle boy says, eyes still filled with concern.

"Max Verstappen. " Max manages to choke out.

"The boy on your left is Yuki Tsunoda and that's Lando Norris." Daniel gestures to the boy sitting opposite Max, who waves shyly.

The ruckus Max's sorting caused calms down and everyone settles down to listen to Dumbledore's welcome back speech which luckily does not mention Max.

Max feels strange between Riccardo and Tsunoda, like dread wrapped in false cotton. Norris also peers at him from time to time, creep.

They're sent back to their dorms. Max tells Riccardo that he can get there on his own but the older boy frowns and insists that he takes Max. Max thinks his father would be disappointed at his complacency but he doesn't have the strength to fight it.

Riccardo leads him to the kitchen, Max wants to snap some insult about him being a goody two shoes and how this is none of his business. He holds his tongue.

Riccardo gestures to a specific barrel, looking more worn out than the ones around it. He taps a certain beat, perhaps it's a secret code. That's childish, Max decides, they are not children playing in a fort.

The barrel swings open.

Max grimaces at the small tunnel.

"Here, you try tapping it." Riccardo puts Max's hand to the barrel.

Max repeats the rhythm perfectly. Memory exercises were part of his training.

Once Riccardo is satisfied, he points at the tunnel, almost as if he wants Max to crawl through it.

Max scrunches his nose, seriously? The older boy points more urgently and Max relents, shoving himself through the tunnel.

Well, not shoving, he's not really big, a fact his father loathed, putting him on diets with large sums of proteins and even attempting to use transfiguration spells before it was put to a stop by his mother.

Max wished his mother had not stopped his father. Maybe he would have an excuse not to join this god forsaken house.

It's an agonizing 5 second crawl before he pops out the other end right in front of Lando Norris, the boy before.

Daniel appears behind him, putting a hand on Max's shoulder.

"So Max, this is the Hufflepuff house. You know Yuki and Lando. That's Oscar, Nico and Valtteri." Riccardo urges the boys to come forward.

"It's Verstappen. " Max declares, Riccardo quirks an eyebrow and the rest of the boys look equally confused.

"Hi! I'm Lando! I'm like a huge fan, do you mind signing this for me? " The boy's yellow robes are somehow orange.

Max's PR training kicks in and he smiles one of those sickly sweet smiles that his father loves to wipe off his face before ordering him to smile again. His posture straightens and he reaches a hand around the younger boy's shoulders, patting him on his back once, twice. Just like he rehearsed.

"Sure! " His tone is so obviously a faux sweet as he reaches to retrieve the black marker from his back pocket. The boy has stars in his eyes and Max feels guilty, he always does. He's a fraud.

He signs the hat from his national team, the one he left behind.

He wishes he didn't.

"Hey, are you okay Max? " Riccardo asks, looking weird again.

"I'm doing great, how are you? " His PR trainer said asking back these questions were endearing, cute. Max's father had mocked him for that act, his trainer had been fired after that.

"How about I bring you to your room? Would you like that?" Riccardo asks, Max smiles again, nodding.

"Sure." Norris waves enthusiastically as Riccardo leads him out of the common room and into his private room.

"Are you alright? Max?"

"Call me Verstappen."

"Verstappen. Are you alright?"

"You can go, Riccardo. "

"... Call if you need anything."

When the prefect leaves, Max wants nothing but to burst into tears. He flops onto the bed.

The next day he drags himself out of bed. Even if classes don't start till 9 and the sun hasn't risen yet.

Jos expected him to continue his strict training regime. He was almost tempted to skip it and lie to his father but he thought he better not after his humiliating sorting from yesterday.

Now, alone, Max can see the Hufflepuff room properly. It's... It's all gentle lighting, none of the bright fluorescent lights his room had. The chairs looked comfy and the many plants lazing around the common room tempts him to join them.

Perhaps that would be a better fate, turning into a plant to live the rest of his life in the common room. His hand lingers on his wand, mind on a spell his professor taught him when he was just 9. He didn't.

When he had crawled out of the Hufflepuff room, fully dressed, broom in hand, the sun was just peaking from the horizon.

The halls are empty, some portraits mutter as he walks by. His father's portraits never moved, other than those instructed to. For example, a painter that never stopped moving his brush or a surfer never to take a break from the sea.

Making his way to the Hogwarts field, he stretched, slow and patient. His bones crack from the exhausting day he had before.

The field is decent sized, not as big as the one he played in during national championships, bigger than the one his father made him run laps around till he fainted.

He glides through the air easily, flying comes easily to him. If he were to be given his own time and freedom he thinks he would likely still be a top player in the school leagues.

It's better that he was hurled up though. Better to have reached the top by sheer force of his father's training.

He thinks about his national team, he's a reserve, too young to play officially but the team has him in some practices and he attends smaller competitions for them. Max suspects it's more about having a claim on Max when he comes of age.

He's 15, he still has 3 years to choose which team he wants to go to. By then, he will make his own choice. He will not do whatever pleases his father anymore.

The golden snitch twinkles near the end of the field. Max pretends not to see it.

It is fun, sometimes, tricking the golden snitch, allowing it a false sense of security. Like a tiger cub playing with a cricket.

His father would get mad at him if he did it for too long, he was upset his son couldn't catch it at once. Which Max could, he just didn't see the fun of it.

The fluttering golden ball is in his hands before it can even think of escaping.

Max briefly wonders if the snitch can possibly think, he lets it flutter away, repeating his game once again.

In the golden light of the sun and shaded path of the clouds, the wind whizzes past his ears, he falls into the familiar rhythm of flying, sometimes he makes his own obstacle courses, weaving through imaginary hoops.

By the time the sun reveals itself fully to watch Max fly, he realizes that a crowd has gathered around under him, star-struck Hogwarts students watching, mouths open and everything.

He flushes slightly, he may have had many adoring fans due to his membership in the national team and young age but come on! These were his peers.

Max lowers down, checking his watch to see that it is indeed 8.30am and he has to run if he wants to get to class not drenched in sweat.

He waves slightly to the crowd, zipping to the house dorm even though he's probably breaking several school rules.

He knocks the tune and enters quickly, still high from the adrenaline of flying.

He climbs out of the tunnel only to come face to face with Daniel Riccardo, his face stern and stony.

"Verstappen! You can't just sneak out like that!" Daniel's expression softens when he sees Max.

Max knows he feels pity even if Riccardo knows nothing about his life.

"I of course did not sneak out, I left my room and went to the field." Max doesn't think early hour training counts as sneaking out, going to parties in the dead of the night is sneaking out.

"Max, we were worried. I went into your room and you weren't there. Thought you'd been kidnapped by the other houses to play quidditch for them or something... "

Max considers this briefly, Riccardo knocking on his door gleefully, freezing when he doesn't get an answer. Did his blood pressure spike? Did he throw Max's door open in desperation only to find the room empty?

Max grimaces.

"I went to go training... Sorry..." Max stands awkwardly, hands by his side like a child being punished by a parent.

Riccardo sighs. Max wants to cry.

"Please forgive me, I'm of course sorry, I will do anything!" Max cringes inside, begging with someone other than his father is a foreign concept.

Riccardo has a cheeky smile on his face, Max is almost scared.

"I'll forgive you... Only if you call me Daniel!"

Max groans inwardly, well he's also partly relieved but Daniel doesn't need to know that.

"What will it be Max? Will you call me the d word? Or will you suffer in my never ending spite! "Daniel's grin grows.

" Fine. "

" Fine, who? "

"Fine. Daniel."

Max flushes, weird.

Daniel looks elated.

[seleneprince]

Since I can't stop thinking about it, more memes about the Snape's werewolf daughter au! :

Part 1

(Because only SHE can call him out of his bullshit. Pisa off Potter)

(Basically her mind during most of PoA)

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Oh god 😭 I created 'My Way Back Home' Harry!

[kitty-tea]

Why do you hate me?

Link to masterlist

Severus Snape x f!reader

WC: 1.5k

Summary: After starting your job as a professor at Hogwarts, you don’t understand why Professor Snape is the one person who doesn’t seem to like you.

Warnings: age gap, angst, SFW, crying, slightly OOC Snape

I still have some stuff I need to catch up on but maybe I can make a part two soon?💁🏻‍♀️

You were more than thrilled when you were accepted to fill in the position for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As Dumbledore introduced you to the school at the Welcoming Feast, your eyes went over to the Slytherin table where you recognized some of the students you went to school with who were younger than you. Your memory went back to your last year sitting at that table with them, and it was as if you’d blinked and they were already old enough to be taking their N.E.W.Ts the upcoming year. You gave a wave to them as they saw you which they returned with a thumbs up.

It seemed as if someone else didn’t give off the same welcoming energy that the rest of the staff and students were giving you. That person was none other than your former head of house, Severus Snape, who was sitting right next to you, rolling his eyes.

He had started teaching when you were in your first year, and it didn’t take long for you as an impressionable student to accept his strict ways of teaching. It wasn’t until your fourth year when you noticed you’d feel different around him than you did with any other teacher which made you realize you were developing a little crush on him that you waited for to go away throughout the rest of your time in school. It never did.

And now, there you were, sitting right next to him, with the same flame within you that caused you to blush.

After Dumbledore was finished making the rest of his announcements, you turned to Snape with a smile on your face.

“Hello Severus, you’ve been a teacher for a while now. Doesn’t it get exciting seeing all these new faces ready to have their minds filled with knowledge? I saw a good number of new additions to our wonderful house during the Sorting Ceremony!”

“It’s Professor Snape to you. And what makes you think I would enjoy having new students to teach?” Even though he turned to you with that same scowl on his face from all those years ago, there was something different about the way he looked at you that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly, a meek smile on your face. “I just thought that… well, you’re a teacher, so… or maybe you see it as having new victims to torture?” You didn’t know why you had rambled on like a fool as the butterflies in your stomach continued to flutter. Having a crush on someone you’re not supposed to can make you do strange things, sometimes without your control it seems.

“The students better hope their new teacher takes her job seriously enough and doesn't treat it as a joking matter.” Snape pointed his sharp features at you which were emphasized by his pale face making you shrink back into your seat.

The more time went on throughout the school year, the more apparent it became that your former teacher hated you no less if not more than he used to. Every wave you gave to him in the corridors was only returned with a scowl, every “hello” with a “go away.” You didn’t understand why he could be so rude to you when you’ve been nothing but kind to him. Hearing rumors that he favored the Slytherins over the other three houses, you thought that he would have treated you with less disdain, but even as a student and teacher, it seemed like he treated you as if he forgot that you shared the same house.

The more you thought about it, you noticed that he used to single you out from the other Slytherins in your school days. You remembered storming out of class in your seventh year one time after he yelled at you for being an “embarrassment” to your house. All you had done was defend a Gryffindor student from the taunts of your fellow housemates. He then had the audacity to complain that you were the one disrupting his class!

Since becoming a teacher, you had in a way used Snape’s mistreatment of you as a motivation to be kind to every student and work with them in a way that was suitable to their needs. You never wanted another student to feel the same way about you that you had towards Snape.

Within a month of school, you had gained a reputation as one of the nicest teachers at Hogwarts, a stark contrast to how everyone else viewed Snape. There were some nosey older students who had taken the liberty of spreading gossip around which included information of how you were once his pupil making the younger students wonder in disbelief of how you turned out nothing like him.

Then there was Snape himself, whom you’d sometimes catch looking in your direction, looking as if he was dazed out, a sight that amused you as someone who had only seen him wear one other expression on his face. It was only when the soft sound of your laughter would hit his ears that he’d snap out of whatever trance he was in, narrowing his black eyes at you silently accusing you of mocking him.

You didn’t understand what was so different about him, what changed since the last time he saw you before you started teaching.

This lead to you becoming more intrigued with him, striking up a conversation with him whenever you were together only to be shut down by his familiar dismissiveness.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend which meant that you were alone in the library with the exception of some studious first and second year students. You had taken advantage of the near emptiness of the library to gather however many books you could fit onto two hands before leaving for your quarters. Thinking about how excited you were to bundle up in your blankets with the books you considered reading to your students, you sprinted through the castle. Maybe you got a little too excited because the next thing you knew you were plumeling face first into a wall of black fabric before the books were knocked out of your hands.

“I should’ve known it was you. Running around like the invasive pest that you are.” You looked up to meet Snape’s eyes for daggers, his taller frame looming over you.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Your eyes widened as you frantically fidgeted with the skirt of your dress.

“Even after I thought I’d seen the last of you, you return like a persistent weed that has evolved into a thorn in my side.” He used his snarky attitude to ignore your apology.

Something inside of you deflated at the sound of his words, puncturing the previous excitement that was bubbling inside you making you momentarily forget about the books you had to pick up.

“I just thought we could be friends now that we’re coworkers.” You said in a near whisper.

“It might have escaped you when you were that pathetic student, but you can’t force everyone to be your friend.” He was clenching his fists at his sides.

“Why don’t you at least try being nice for once then?!” Hot tears were starting to simmer inside your eyelids, threatening to pour out. You hated how no matter how hard you tried standing up for yourself, you’d cry every time.

“Still weak as ever.” Snape said, eyeing your tears that were now running down your red cheeks.

“I am sick of you always treating me and looking at me like… I’m pathetic and calling me that!” You started to choke on your sobs. “Everyone has been kind to me! I don’t understand why you can’t be too when I’ve always tried being friendly with you, but you’ve been nothing but mean to me!”

“Being a pathetic excuse for a Slytherin doesn’t help.” Snape said loud and clear.

“Being a pathetic excuse for a teacher doesn’t help!” You shouted as loud as the tears would spill out fast. “You act like you know everything and that everyone else is beneath you! Maybe that’s why all the students hate you!”

“Thank you. For bringing my attention to something that is absolutely not new and wasting my time.” Snape said sarcastically, huffing under the layers of black.

“Why do you hate me?” You finally asked the question, a wall of tears clouding your vision.

The next thing you felt was calloused fingers brushing along the soft skin of your wet cheek before a pair of lips landed onto yours.

You were in too much of a shock to dwell on the fact that the man you’ve had a crush on for years was kissing you. You planted your hands against his hard chest as you returned the kiss. You let out a breathy whimper as his tongue traced your bottom lip. Both of you closed your eyes, savoring the moment until it was time to break away unless you wanted to take your last breath in his arms, which you would’ve been happy to.

“Because it infuriates me that I’ve wanted to do that to you every time I’ve looked at you since that day you returned to Hogwarts. You have no idea what you have done to me with those innocent eyes I can’t stop thinking about.” Snape’s voice broke you out of your daydreams before he stormed off without giving you a chance to speak.

You wanted to call out after him as you stood alone, trembling in your dried up tears.