Every time I try to write for other characters Alan has played, I find myself coming back to Severus over and over. He’s just so complex.
Enjoy this sweet lil awkward date :)
Getting Severus Snape to go on a date with you was hard enough.
Getting Severus Snape to go on a date with you in public? Near impossible.
Sure, it was nice hanging out with him in his office after work, sipping wine together and complaining about the latest student shenanigans of the week. But you found yourself wanting more.
How you finally managed to convince him to physically go out with you was like pulling teeth: it had taken countless evenings in either your office, or his office, along with countless glasses of wine, before he had finally (and rather reluctantly) agreed.
Now that the winter holidays were in full swing, and most of the students had gone home for a few weeks, you suggested going into Hogsmeade for the afternoon. And of course even then, Severus tried his best to manoeuvre as far away from the public as possible.
The two of you sat side by side on a fallen tree, overlooking the Shrieking Shack in the distance. You two were familiar with each other’s company — comfortable enough to sit with your shoulders touching, but not quite at the point where you could reach out and hold his hand without a second thought.
“Do you have any favourite places at Hogsmeade?” You asked after a brief moment of silence passed between the two of you. Severus glanced over at you with a slight frown.
“No, I can’t say I do. I don’t often come here.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He replied, burying his face a little further into his scarf. “Unless I’m on chaperone duty during a school trip.”
“Well,” you answered quietly, nudging his shoulder. Severus glanced at you quickly with a frown before softening when he realized your gesture was of a friendly nature. “Thanks for coming out here with me.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes dark and unreadable as usual. “Of course.”
Your heart raced a little as another silence passed between the two of you. Why was being with Severus so damn hard this time around? Usually when you two were together, the conversation was effortless. Things flowed nicely. This time… it seemed neither of you knew quite how to break the ice.
A gust of wind rattled the trees around you, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. It was much too cold to be sitting out here the way you were, and you longed to be inside somewhere warm.
“What’s your favourite treat?” You found yourself blurting out suddenly. Severus looked at you as if you had just insulted him in another language.
“My… what?”
“Favourite treat. Do you have one?”
Severus blinked in surprise, lost for words for a moment.
“I don’t think I have one,” he admitted. He seemed to be tiptoeing around you, choosing his words carefully. “Do you?”
You nodded. “Hot chocolate… from Honeydukes specifically.”
Severus shook his head. “I’ve never tried it.”
“Are you serious? Let’s go, I’ll get you one.”
“That’s kind of you, but I don’t need one.”
“Well, I do.” You announced as you began walking. Anything to get out of the cold.
As you walked into Honeydukes, you were gently cocooned by a rush of warm sugary air, and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Severus stuck out like a sore thumb in the store, in his all-black attire. You noticed the way he hung back in the store, staying close to the wall as if not to be seen. He stayed rather still, but he kept glancing around at the small number of others browsing the shop. He seemed anxious.
Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you grabbed his hand gently and tugged him up to the front counter. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him visibly stiffen before slowly softening as he grew more familiar with your touch. His hands were surprisingly warm.
You ordered two hot chocolates, and just as you were about to pay, Severus stepped forward and silently took out a few Galleons from his pocket. He placed them on the counter quickly, beating you to the payment.
“Oh.” You murmured in faint surprise. “I was going to get it for you, you didn’t have to do that-”
“I insist.” Severus replied softly. His eyes were warm, and you caught the tiniest smile grace his lips for a split second. You nodded your head in gratitude.
“Thank you.”
Hot chocolates now warming your hands, the two of you walked in silence and sat together in a small clearing, just around the corner from the main street. Severus took a small sip of his hot chocolate, and you caught the tiny gasp of surprise he made as he took in the flavour.
“What do you think?” You grinned, watching his reaction. He scrutinized the cup, deep in thought, before nodding slowly as he turned to smile at you.
“I see why you like this so much.”
You laughed and took a sip for yourself. “See? I told you it was good.”
The air felt much less awkward between the two of you, and more like how it was when you’d visit each other’s offices at Hogwarts. Now that you were out of public view for the most part, Severus seemed to have visibly relaxed.
You glanced over at him and had to bite back a smile. He had the smallest bit of chocolate just above his lip. You pressed your lips together to keep from saying anything, but Severus caught your expression. He frowned curiously.
“What is it?”
“You've got, um…” you tried to tap your mouth quickly to signal to him, but he didn’t quite get the right spot.
Oh, to hell with it.
“Um no, it’s a little lower…” you reached up quickly and swiped it away with a gentle touch. Severus kept his gaze on you the entire time. Dozens of emotions seemed to flash in his eyes all at once. You found it hard to look away. He looked beautiful in the winter light.
You leaned forward and pressed the tiniest kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your lips didn’t quite touch his, and as a result it was more of a cheek kiss really, but your heart was still racing nonetheless. Severus blinked curiously, observing every tiny movement and expression you made.
And then, after setting his hot chocolate down without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours softly.
You inhaled sharply, every sense suddenly running on overdrive. You tensed at first, but then Severus rested his hand gently on your leg, and you found yourself relaxing immediately. Your kisses were slow. Deliberate. As if you were testing the waters together.
You broke away, breathing a little more intensely than before. Severus looked at you as if to ask if that was okay, and you knew right there that he had fully captured your heart.
“Could I kiss you again, perhaps?”
You had to giggle at his question. You nodded, setting down your hot chocolate on the bench beside you so you could properly face him now.
“I’d really like that.”
Severus smiled, genuinely. It was a sight you knew you’d love to get used to seeing. He leaned in, kissing you again with much less hesitancy than the first time.
You’d never be able to look at hot chocolate the same way again.
Pairing: Young Severus Snape x Young Female Hufflepuff You
Set in: Year Seven of Yours and Severus’s Hogwarts time
POV: Second, Reader
A/N: I wanted to write something sweet, something cute, something fun and warming in a one-shot to take a little break from the serials of Brandon, Gruber, and Turpin that I have going on so far this Rickmas so here we are with a young Snape 🥰 Now, it was supposed to be short but… umh, yeah… 👀 P.S the potion in this story is completely made up.
Also, side note, we had a family Christmas crafts day at work (the library) today and there was so much happening I feel like I've been in a whirlwind and I need to finish tomorrow's prompt but I'm all drained after the super-energy at work 😅
Tags/TW’s: Mutual Secret Pining, Young Love, First Kiss, Hand Holding, Knight In Shining Armour Vibes, Illegal Potion Making, Rule Breaking, Sneaking Around After Curfew, Disastrous Potion, Slight Banter/Teasing (fun kind!), Nervousness, Low Self-esteem
Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name
Word Count: 4.6k
LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST
Wrapped Tightly
Your hands ached, your mind solely focused on counting the stirs of the cauldron. …forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one… On and on it went, you would count until you hit eighty-three and then stir the potion counter-clockwise sixteen times before setting it to simmer for the upcoming eleven hours — perfectly timed for when you’d return from breakfast the day after. You’d have to get an early breakfast to make it in time but curfew was coming closer for this Friday evening so you had no choice but to make it at this time.
What you were doing wasn’t exactly allowed, but then again, no great things are discovered or created by strictly following rules and regulations, right? There, switch to counter-clockwise and one, two, three, four, five… It was a relief to move your arms in the opposite direction while you focused on counting — trying not to let the potentially disastrous outcome of brewing an illegal potion in a restricted tower of your school could yield; especially if the potion didn’t go as planned.
You pulled the wooden spoon of honey-waxed oak out of the potion at the exact right time, staring into the still-swirling potion for any signs of it changing colour for a long minute. It did not, and you let out a sigh of relief. The icy blue liquid was thick and white fumes with what looked like minuscule crystals wafted up from the cauldron as you adjusted the burner beneath it. Nothing happened, the potion remained the same and you clapped your hands giddily.
Before leaving the cold room with a slight shimmer to their walls as the fumes filled the space, you cast another three secrecy charms and a trespass hex for good measure. Rather someone gets a bit of a headache than discovering what you were up to, honestly.
The clock struck nine, the giant clock tower not far from the tower you occupied boomed it out and you closed the door to get yourself back to Hufflepuff quarters. You were on the wrong end of the school, and at the top of it which also happened to be opposite to where your dormitory was. Hufflepuff wasn’t as deep down as Slytherin in the dungeons but still, like the badger representing your house, you were down below.
You sneaked down the swirling staircase of stone, staying close to the inner wall, and made sure to keep your steps light and quiet. The curfew was in effect and now, with the halls lit with more candles and dressed in sparkly globes of magical ice, your reflection could be spotted as well if a teacher on patrol happened to pass nearby.
“Miss Y/l/n,” came a quiet voice and you halted while stiffening. “Perhaps you should take a left, lest you run into old Filch in a minute,” it continued as you turned your head only to find Sir Nicholas peaking his head out from the wall, literally just the head and the tiny flap of skin holding it attached to his shoulders which were hidden within the wall or perhaps behind it — you weren’t sure how thick the walls actually were.
“Sir Nicholas,” you whispered. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the teachers’ side?”
He smirked, his moustache twitching. “Oh, I like a good joke as much as anyone and what you’re brewing will be a fantastic one.”
You scrunched your brows. What you were brewing wasn’t intended for any joke. “What do you mean?”
“Come now, he’s nearly here.”
You looked around. “I can’t walk through walls,” you whisper-hissed.
“No, but you can open the door,” he chuckled and disappeared. Door, what door?
“In here,” came a voice you knew all too well.
Your heart quickened at the dark drone and you looked slightly behind you. “Severus?”
“Come on,” he said and a hand shot out through the wall— no, through a crack in the wall that suddenly opened wider. A hidden passage? I thought I’d found all— woah! You got yanked through the second your hand landed in his and darkness wrapped tightly around you along with stale air and an eerie quietness.
He pulled you closer, you stumbled on the uneven stone floor and planted your face against his harsh chest in the process of nearly falling face-first. He smelled too good. Sage, peppermint, and a scent all his own. Your heart leapt anew and your pulse quickened rapidly.
“Sch,” he hissed as you were about to apologise for stumbling into him.
Footsteps moved past the other side of the wall— erh, door. You both stood absolutely still and you could not help but inhale his scent deeply, feeling that ever-growing warmth in your gut once more — as you did each time you lay eyes on the young man who a year ago had fully caught your attention when he saved you from a potion about to explode in class. It hadn’t been your potion, but the benchmate you sat next to. Had Severus not pulled you away and down from the bench next to you on the other side you would have ended up in the Hospital Wing for weeks, like Mr Biscy (the boy who was brewing) had.
You’d liked Severus before that, mostly by his appearance and this strange allure he had. You’d chalked it up to the bad-boy-vibes and the utter lack of interest he seemed to hold in anyone — even the world — and that was something you were fascinated by. Fine, alright, given your badger status, you were also quite happy to make friends and drag those friends along for the crazy ride that was life. To see people realise how not docile Hufflepuff people were was like the icing on the cake, to be honest.
“He’s gone,” Severus said, the dark drone even deeper with your head so close to his chest. You almost whined a complaint as he let your hand go and stepped back. Your eyes had adjusted to the darker space but it was still hard to see much of anything.
“Thanks,” you said with a wide smile.
“Why are you out beyond curfew?” he asked, and you could have sworn his brow arched and his face hardened a smidge. He was so pale and his hair and clothes so dark that the features were actually visible even in the gloomy space.
“Wouldn’t you like to know."”
“I would not have asked otherwise.”
You rolled your eyes, the saying going over his head apparently. “It’s my business. I could ask you the same question, you know.”
“True.” He turned and began walking, you followed quickly. "But I am not the one nearly caught. Good for you Nicholas told me.”
“Wait, he told you? What did he tell you?” Please, nothing about the potion for Merlin's sake.
“That you were about to get caught by Filch. I can come out of that unscathed, you, however, could not.” The drawl of his voice nearly sounded smug.
You knew the squib and Severus had some strange form of friendship, or even a bond perhaps, but there was never a chance for you to ask anything about it. Hell, you barely got a chance to ever speak to or even be this close to Severus — he was a bloody expert at keeping distances… Annoying. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to admit that you truly fancied him, because there was no happiness to come from that given Severus barely acknowledged anyone's existence — yours included.
“There should be rules about teacher pets,” you said quietly.
“True. It would not have any effect on the caretaker of Hogwarts, though. Would it?” he said, again, a hint of smugness to his voice you could not quite remember ever having heard before.
“You’re awfully smug, bit of a git behaviour that,” you said in a we’re-talking-about-the-weather kind of voice.
“Smug? No.”
“Then, what?”
He stopped, you nearly crashed into his back before he looked over his shoulder at you. “Happy…” he murmured before speeding off in long strides while your brain misfired and your legs had to start sprinting on instinct to follow the leader - so to speak - as you had no idea where you were or where the small hallway was taking you.
Happy? Why happy? Have I never heard him happy before? I don’t think I have. Why is he happy though? Is it me— pfth, don’t be daft. But why? You caught up to him as your brain fired thoughts at you in rapid form. “Happy?” you asked. “Why? What makes you happy? I love it, but why?” you rambled while walking as fast as your shorter legs would carry you. Severus took such long strides you had to fight to keep up as the hallway twisted and turned, sometimes going down a few steps, and sometimes going up.
“I could help you,” he said quietly, his words barely audible.
“Help me? Well, yeah, Filch would have caught me so I’m very thankful for the help.” It looked as if he nodded at your words but you weren’t quite sure in the gloom. Come on, get him talking, this is your chance!
But Severus beat you to it. “Why are you… sparkling?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
You held out your hands and arms, well, shit, you hadn’t thought about the fumes sticking to you as well as the surrounding area. “Erh, glitter bomb?”
Severus snorted. “Sure, glitter bomb. Engineer a better excuse.”
“Unicorn farted on me?” you said with a whitheld laugh.
“Better. Try again.” What, no laugh out of that?
“Fine, a Christmas elf sprayed me.”
He sighed. “Try again. Careful, steep drop here,” he said right after and slowed his steps.
Severus stepped down, turning him a few inches shorter than you which looked so odd.
“Here,” he said, holding out his hand. You hesitated for a moment while your fingers tingled with the prospect of getting to hold his hand. You grabbed on, he took a sturdy grip with those long fingers, and you stepped down the high step with a bit of manoeuvring.
“Where are we?” you asked and he released you.
“Almost by Hufflepuff.”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“But we were over on—”
“Hogwarts has many passages and secrets.” Severus glanced back at you. “Now, another, better, excuse.”
How about the truth? “Alright, I was brewing the Dragon Ice potion and the fumes got all over the place.”
Severus halted, you crashed into his back with an oomph! and a thud.
“You what?” he asked, turning to face you.
“Brewing the Dragon Ice potion—”
He grabbed your upper arms. “Are you completely out of your mind?!” he hissed. “Where’s the potion? Where are you doing it?”
“Southwest tower, the restricted one with the—”
“Idiot. Come on,” he said with exasperation and annoyance mixed with urgency.
“What? No, it’s not done until eight in the morning, it’s simmering for—”
“For eleven hours as per the recipe in the restricted section, yes, but that’s the incorrect recipe!” he snarled, grabbing your hand and pulling you back the way you came.
You dug your heels in. “What? But it says the same thing in all three books,” you said, halting all movement.
“Yes, and they are all incorrect to keep people from brewing it!”
“What?” you asked, worry beginning to gnaw in your gut despite the warmth and absolute joy it was to have Severus so close. “What will happ—”
“It will explode, turn everything in close vicinity to ice.”
“You say that as if you’ve done it before.”
“I have, and I learned,” he said. “You’re about to learn that you don’t brew dangerous, illegal potions at school where, if things go wrong, the evidence is in everyone’s faces. Y/n, what were you thinking?” he asked, anger and frustration seeped through his voice but he was not quite mean to you.
“I need the money.”
“So brew less dangerous potions!”
“No, I need a lot of money.”
“Don’t we all…” he muttered
“Come on, we need to break the potion cycle before it turns half the castle into an ice cube.”
“Wait, what?”
He jerked on your arm and you both began moving again. “Yes. The fumes are already turning your clothes hard, aren’t they?” When you thought about it, yes, your cloak felt stiffer than usual and your skirt wasn’t moving as swiftly around your thighs.
“I’m becoming ice?” There had been no bloody warning about that in the books.
Severus snorted. “No, of course not. It’s more like your clothes being covered in frost, not ice. It stops after a few minutes. The potion, however, is another matter.”
You both walked at a brisk pace all the way back to where you came from. Sir Nicholas appeared just in time when you reached the wall that was really a door.
“Back so soon?”
“Dragon Ice,” Severus said, and Sir Nicholas smiled and chuckled so his head nearly toppled to one side.
“Yes, quite the jester our Miss Y/l/n.” He glanced at me with weird eyes of mischief one usually didn’t see in them. “It will be so much fun when—”
“No, Sir, it’s the wrong recipe, half the castle will turn to ice if it explodes. And it will.”
Sir Nicholas stiffened. “Oh dear, Miss. Quite the pickle we’re in now.” But there was definitely mischief in his eyes, it looked wrong on this specific ghost but not in a necessarily bad way.
He floated backwards, out of the wall, and then reappeared again. “All safe, onward mighty students, to stop the botched potion!” he said with fanfare as if you two were knights in shiny armour. It was endearing but the bravado was a bit too much at the moment.
“Let’s go, Severus said and pushed open the wall— door, before grabbing your hand anew and pulling you close behind him toward the entrance to the tower.
You started up the swirling stairs, rushing up them. Truth be told, it was hard to be fast when Severus held your hand, but you had no incline to let go. Who knew, perhaps you’d never get to feel his fingers squeeze around yours ever again after tonight? It felt as if you were in a whirlwind — there was so much happening that you barely had time to reflect on the fact that you were with Severus, holding his hand, nearly running with him and that he’d spoken more to you in the past fifteen minutes in one go than ever before. And he said he was happy… But you had no time to think any more of it as you reached the door.
“Good hex,” he said, grabbing at his forehead with his free hand while you drew out your wand and undid it.
“Thanks, it was in—”
“Uncomfortable Spells For Protection, restricted section.”
You chuckled. “Yeah.”
“And here I was, thinking you badgers were sweet, none rebellious creatures,” he said, that smug sound in his voice once more but now you knew better.
“Aren’t you serpents supposed to be greedy, evil people? Not ones to help those in need with diffusing disaster potions and keeping people out of harm?”
“Touché.”
You chuckled before pushing the door open with the back of your wand-holding hand and arm.
“Shit,” Severus said, seeing the room filled with a blue-tinted fog that wasn’t at all the type of fumes you’d left it filled with not too long ago.
“It didn’t look like—” But Severus let go of you and rushed toward the cauldron, looking into it and interrupting you.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he muttered before starting to search through the pockets of his robe. “Where is it, where is it?” he muttered further as you moved closer in the freezing room with walls, ceiling and floor covered in a thin sheet of ice and small icicles were forming across the ceiling, too.
“Well, this is bad,” you said, not sure if you were panicking or having a laugh at the whole thing.
“Yes, bad, very bad,” Severus muttered distractedly, still searching his robes.
“Maybe we should get a teacher?”
“No, this will not end well for us.”
“Us? You haven’t done—”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
True… “But you haven’t done anything, you can go to the dungeons while I get a teacher.”
“No time for— Shit! It’s going!” Severus snarled, nearly tearing his clothes apart when ripping at the pockets.
Panic surged through you as the cauldron began trembling and creaking while the potion swirled like a whirlpool. A very beautiful whirlpool of glitter, silver, and blue. But ominous.
“Get out, Y/n!”
“No way!” you shouted back. “This is my fault!”
“We’ll be pop-sickles in a minute!” Had the situation not been so grave you would have burst out laughing. But Severus looked far too serious.
“We’ll melt eventually!” you shouted over the sudden storm-like winds spinning around the room, coming from the cauldron. Small flecks of ice scratched at your skin and forced you to squint.
Severus grabbed his wand, shouted something, and a small cluster of purple twigs with white leaves flew from a pocket and into his hand. “Get down!” he ordered and you ducked as he threw the material into the cauldron before covering you with his own body. Your heart hammered, your pulse raced and in the midst of whatever was going on with the potion and dire situation you were in some bizarre form of heaven with Severus holding you tight while half laying over you to protect your head and back was there too, wrapping itself tightly around your heart.
The cauldron exploded. You gasped and whimpered from the shattering sound before the noise of splattering liquid came a second later. Another second passed and quietness took over. No more storming winds, no creaking cauldron. Only the odd dripping noise now and then along with the drumming of your own pulse in your ears and the feel of Severus’s heart against your back with his harsh breathing fanning over the top of your head.
After another moment you both straightened. The room was an absolute mess of darkly blue goo. A dense liquid closer to slime than anything else covered everything, including the wide-eyed Severus standing before you. He had protected you from most of it.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gruff and low.
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” you replied while looking around the room before landing back on him again. “You’re not though, your hair, it’s turning blue…”
“Blue?!” He reached up and grabbed at the long black strands turning blue from root to tip like the black lake freezing over.
“It’s not so bad—”
He gusted out a harsh breath through his nose while glaring at you. “Not, so, bad?” he snarled. “I’m blue, Y/n. Blue.”
You couldn’t stop the giggle as all that had been black on him turned blue. A vibrant blue to boot. “It’s pretty, very, umh, Christmasy,” you said, endeavouring to hold back the laughing. But, in your defence, he looked like a blue gnome with porcelain skin.
“Christmas is red and green, if you’ve not noticed.”
“No, it can be any colour you—”
“By Merlin, if you say one more word about it I will hex you, Y/n.”
“Well—” you stepped closer, loosening the tightly gripping fingers out of his own hair “—hex away if it makes you feel better, I owe you big time for this… I mean, I could have been blue. Can you imagine a vibrantly blue badger? Nope, nope, nope. Blue snakes exist, so, no worries there.”
“Pacifying me with facts, are we?” he asked, but he seemed less angered and softer as you brushed away some blue hair from his face and adjusted the now blue coat that had been askew.
Looking up at him, you found his onyx eyes mesmerising. He looked slightly alarmed, but there was something to say for being the focus of his attention. Your heart certainly had a say about it, it galloped along like reindeer across the Christmas night sky rushing to bring the sleigh of Santa all around the globe.
“Purple,” you said.
“Purple?”
“Plum purple, now that would suit you splendidly. Perfectly matchable with black, too, mind you.”
He arched a brow. “Plum purple?” You nodded. “Make plum juice next time then, badger.”
“Next time?” you asked, your knees turning slightly wobbly.
His eyes hardened and widened a bit at the same time. “Or not, not like I care either way.”
His voice trembled ever so slightly, a lightness to it — as if he was suddenly embarrassed or something along those lines. You were too occupied with wondering what he meant to think much of it.
“You know, it’s not nice to say you’ll stick around if you have no plan to do it. I keep my friends, forever. Unless they do something shitty I can’t forgive,” you said.
He glanced away for a second and then looked back at you. “Well, I wasn’t suggesting friendship.”
You tilted your head, trying with all your might to understand if he was rejecting you despite having helped you immensely or if this was his way of saying he felt something for you as you certainly did for him. You had hinted at it, you had tried to get closer to him — but Severus, well, he wasn’t one to allow distances to shrink.
“Severus, are you saying I should keep my distance or are you asking me out on a Christmas date?” you asked, throwing caution to the wind and diving in head first.
The blue hair shimmered as he glanced all around the room except at you. “Maybe…” he muttered, redness creeping up along his neck and covering the tips of his ears peaking through the still-moist hair.
You sighed, trying to find his gaze with your own. “Maybe what? Maybe a date? At Madam Puddifoots next weekend with some sweet treats and hot drinks in the corner booth?”
“Something like that, perhaps…” His voice was so deep, so low, you barely heard him.
“Will you still be blue? Should I match?” you asked, unable to hide the warmth and giddiness in your voice despite trying to lighten the mood as the poor bloke seemed absolutely stressed about the potential of going on a date. Pfth, it's probably more just talking and being with someone and admitting to feelings and all that stuff but bloody hell I am right now damn thankful for potions going wrong.
Severus still hadn’t said anything, he just looked at you. “Well? Will you still be blue?”
“Are you— Are you making fun of me now?” he asked and the depth of his voice turned uncertain.
“Absolutely not.”
“You will go on a date, in public, with me?” he asked, his features tight but his eyes soft.
Better be clear here… “Yes.”
“I didn’t think you actually liked me.”
“I’ve been trying to show that for a year now, you're very difficult, you know.”
“Too difficult?”
“HA! There is no such thing as someone too difficult to love, Severus.”
“Love?” he asked, alarmed.
“Well, I’ve had a crush on you since Biscy nearly landed me in the Hospital Wing with his potion exploding.”
Severus snorted. “How he messed up so grandly I’ll never understand.”
“Perhaps not, but you noticed before anyone else did. I’ve always found you interesting, you know.”
“Have you?”
You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows at him while the atmosphere softened and eased. “Well, yeah, I’m a friend collector and I always want to rope in as many kinds of friends as possible — you certainly are one of a kind, helpful, too.”
“Why does that sound incredibly ominous, badger?”
“’cus it is. And if you’re my boyfriend, well, all the more fun things I can rope you into doing. Do you think failing a Dragon Ice potion is the only mischief I’ve ever been up to?” you asked, laughter and mirth in your voice as Severus’s eyes widened in alarm.
“I believe I am about to find out…”
“We badgers are on a whole other level. Like the time the cups turned into mice in the great hall, that was us. The singing trees in the dungeons, also us. The ice rink in the hallway on the fourth floor, also us. Remember that time everyone started floating about as if gravity went haywire?” Severus nodded. “Well, that was me. Who knew messing with gravitational spells to create a new one could make such a bloody mess of everything?”
“Anyone with two brain cells to combine,” he snarked and you smirked at him, he wasn’t serious or harsh about it — it sounded as if he were joking with you, to be honest.
“Think you can handle it?” you asked, stepping closer.
“Obviously. I may be blue, but we’re alive and the castle is whole, no thanks to you.” Severus looked down at you as you inched even closer, feeling all tingly as his eyes warmed a bit.
“So, knight in shiny armour it is,” you said, grabbing his hand and squeezing.
He arched a brow, not impressed apparently. “Shiny armour?”
“Ugh, fine, black knight,” you conceded and reached up on your toes.
Before he could react, or step back, you planted your wanting lips atop his and kissed him with everything you believed he could handle. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it certainly appeared to be his as he stiffened and did not so much as soften his lips — it was sweet, endearing even. When you leaned back he looked paler than a ghost but he didn’t appear to particularly dislike what you’d done.
He stared at you for a long moment while your hands warmed each other.
“You kissed me,” he said, eventually.
You smiled widely. “Supplying me with facts?”
“I wasn’t prepared.”
“Oh, shall I do it again on the count of three?” you asked, joking and smirking at him.
His eyes flickered from yours to your lips and then up again. “If— If you want to…” His ears turned scarlet red at that and your heart absolutely melted.
“Three, two, one,” you said quietly as you leaned closer and then you kissed him again. This time, he softened and tentatively kissed you back while his hand turned utterly warm around your own.
When the kiss broke, Severus seemed as shocked as before. “You did it.”
“Well, yes, I wanted to,” you said brightly. “Now, will you still be blue for our date and the breakfast tomorrow?”
“No. It will pass in about six hours with a good shower and new clothes.”
“So no matching then,” you said with a smile.
“And no plum purple,” he replied.
You laughed as he smiled carefully. “You’re quite the hoot, you know that?”
“Perhaps you hit your head when you ducked?”
You laughed again. “Perhaps, perhaps, but at least my head isn’t blue.”
“Touché,” he replied before turning to look at the mess of the room. “This will take time to undo,” he continued.
“Nah, a few spells and we’re good. On toward the next mischief.”
You never did tell him why you brewed the potion, or why you needed the money only illegal and dangerous potions to sell could bring in. That was a future discussion; if the relationship led to something more serious. For now, you’d enjoy a Christmas with the Slytherin you’d wanted for over a year — even if he were currently very blue you had no qualms about kissing him for a third time when he undid his cloak and rolled up his sleeves to help with the cleaning. The fact he stiffened and his ears reddened this time, too, only made you feel as if he was the sweetest thing that you’d eventually corrupt with shenanigans, of course.
LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST
A/N: Well, this was fun 🥰👏 It really was supposed to be a short thing, just like a small tidbit of fun teenage shenanigans and then boom - inspiration hits and you gotta type type type 😂👌
I hope you’re enjoying this first week of Rickmas - which character is your favourite to read about when it comes to Alan? 😍❤
Summary: Colonel Brandon attends Christmas dinner at the Dashwoods’ residence, where he finds himself captivated by a guest—a cousin of the Dashwoods—whose warmth and intelligence intrigue him. Sharing a heartfelt conversation and an electric, lingering touch, Brandon is left deeply affected, realizing he has formed an unexpected connection with you.
Pairing: Colonel Brandon × Fem! Reader
Warnings: None
Also read on Ao3
Colonel Brandon arrived at the Dashwoods’ residence for Christmas dinner, feeling a surge of quiet excitement at the prospect of spending an evening in Marianne’s company. The warmth and joy of the season seemed to fill every corner of the Dashwood home, and the air was thick with the pleasant scents of holiday fare and evergreen branches. Brandon had come hoping to share a few moments with Marianne, to observe her happiness, and perhaps, if he dared, to hear her laughter in a moment of ease. But as he took his place among the gathered company, he found his gaze straying not only to Marianne but also to you—a guest who had captured his attention far more than he could comprehend.
You were seated across the room, laughing quietly at some remark from your brother. Your smile was soft yet lively, your gaze filled with an intelligence and warmth that both intrigued and unsettled him. Brandon, ordinarily a man of firm control over his own emotions, found himself at a loss. He had scarcely spoken to you, yet something about your presence drew him in, stirring within him a curiosity he hadn’t expected.
After a few polite exchanges with Mr. Dashwood and your brother, Brandon gathered that you were visiting, that you were a cousin to the Dashwoods, and that your brother was perhaps keen on arranging a match for you. The notion troubled him, though he could not quite say why. He listened as your brother described you as “a fine match” with a self-satisfied pride that made Brandon bristle inwardly. He wanted to object, though he had no reason to; he hardly knew you, after all, and it wasn’t his place to feel anything but courteous interest.
Yet, as the evening unfolded, he found himself watching you in quiet fascination. The warmth of the candlelight softened your features, casting a gentle glow over you as you listened intently to the conversations around you. Brandon could see a thoughtfulness in your eyes, a kindness in the way you spoke, and when you turned to him and offered a genuine smile, he felt his breath catch, his heart inexplicably moved by the simple gesture.
In a rare moment of courage, he moved to stand beside you during a lull in the conversation. "Miss Dashwood tells me you enjoy music,” he remarked, his voice low, carrying the smooth cadence of his baritone.
You looked up, a spark of interest in your eyes as you replied, “Indeed, Colonel. Music has been a solace to me in many a quiet moment.”
He nodded, feeling an unexpected kinship with you. “A solace, yes. I believe it has a way of speaking to the heart in ways that words often fail to capture.” His hazel eyes met yours, lingering just a moment longer than propriety might allow, and he felt a sudden desire to know more of you—to understand the thoughts that lay behind that quiet gaze.
The two of you continued speaking, exchanging thoughts on music, literature, and the pleasures of quiet moments in a world often filled with noise. Brandon found himself surprised by how easily he could talk to you, how naturally the conversation flowed. There was a gentleness to your manner, an intelligence that captivated him, and he wondered if, perhaps, it was not mere coincidence that he had met you tonight.
As the evening wore on, your brother approached, interrupting the conversation with a broad smile and a jest about “catching the Colonel’s attention.” Brandon felt a flush rise to his cheeks, and he cleared his throat, murmuring something polite but evasive. Your brother’s remark had been in jest, but it struck closer to the truth than Brandon cared to admit.
When your brother moved away, you turned to Brandon with a soft, amused smile. “I hope you won’t take my brother’s teasing to heart, Colonel. He often speaks without thought.”
Brandon managed a small smile, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Think nothing of it, Miss. I find I am rather…grateful for his lack of discretion, for it has allowed me the pleasure of speaking with you tonight.”
You looked at him, a slight flush coloring your cheeks, and for a moment, you seemed unsure of what to say. But then, your smile widened, a glint of warmth in your gaze. “I confess, Colonel, I have found our conversation most enjoyable as well.”
He felt his heart stir, a mixture of emotions he could scarcely name—hope, admiration, perhaps even something more profound. It was rare for Brandon to meet someone with whom he felt this kind of connection, and as the evening drew to a close, he found himself reluctant to part from you.
When the evening finally came to a close, the Dashwoods moved to see their guests to their carriages, laughter and goodbyes filling the brisk night air. Brandon, lingering near the door, watched as you and your brother prepared to leave. His gaze was drawn to you, catching glimpses of your face illuminated in the warm glow spilling from the Dashwood’s entryway. There was a kind of quiet regret nestled in his heart—a wish that the night had stretched just a little longer, that he could have stolen a few more moments in your company.
When your brother turned to give last thanks to Mr. Dashwood, Brandon took the opportunity to step forward, offering his hand to assist you into the carriage. You glanced up in surprise, your eyes meeting his, and for an instant, the world seemed to fade around him. It was only the two of you, his hand extended, yours lifting to meet it.
“Thank you, Colonel,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere.
He nodded, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his lips. “It is my pleasure,” he replied, his baritone voice low, carrying an unexpected warmth that he scarcely dared to reveal.
As your hand settled into his, a jolt shot through him, a shock that seemed to course from his hand to his very core. His breath caught, and he fought to keep his expression steady, though he could feel his composure slipping. Your hand was soft and warm in his, yet there was something electric about the touch, a sensation so unfamiliar that he found himself involuntarily tightening his grip. For that single moment, his world narrowed to the feeling of your hand in his, to the delicate brush of your fingertips, to the brief press of your palm.
Brandon’s heart thudded heavily, his fingers longing to linger, to feel the warmth of your hand just a moment longer. But you slipped your hand away, thanking him with a gentle smile, oblivious to the small chaos you had caused within him. As your hand left his, he felt a peculiar emptiness, his fingers curling instinctively, as though to cling to that fleeting sensation. He drew his hand back, hiding it behind his back, forcing himself to open and close his fist as though that might dispel the warmth that lingered, the tingling that refused to fade.
He cleared his throat, straightening himself, feeling the full weight of this unbidden, unknown feeling. You turned back toward the carriage, and he watched as you settled into your seat, a soft expression on your face, as though unaware of the effect you had left upon him.
As the carriage began to move, he felt a tightening in his chest, a strange reluctance to let you go, as if part of him were still tethered to that moment, bound by the touch of your hand. He opened his mouth, as if to call after you, to say something—anything—that might bring you back, if only for a moment longer. But the words escaped him, lost in the heavy silence, and he was left standing, watching your carriage disappear into the darkness.
Once the carriage had faded from sight, Brandon drew a steadying breath, finally breaking from his reverie to nod his goodbyes to the Dashwoods. Yet as he walked away, his mind lingered on the memory of your touch, on the warmth that still clung to his hand. He was a man accustomed to control, to duty and discipline—but tonight, that brief, electric touch had awakened something deeper, something he had long kept hidden.
This was the first he noticed the moment he opened his eyes. His last memory of your change of clothes on the edge of the bed was cut short by slumber. His hand instinctively reached out for your familiar warmth, his sleep-addled mind slowly processing before finally getting up from the comforts of bed.
Where were you? His frown returned in your absence.
The Malfoy’s Annual Christmas Eve Dinner has sapped his remaining energy for the evening. His exhaustion was evident in how he didn’t remember if you ever joined him in bed, hadn’t even felt the bed dip from your weight.
In his drowsy state, he treads carefully across the wooden floor, following the faint sounds of music coming from downstairs. His hands come across the silver garlands you decorated on the staircase and then pieces of the puzzle clicked.
His enchanted gramophone was put to good use as tunes played in the background of your late-night decorating. From the middle of the steps, he could see you beneath a Christmas tree that certainly wasn’t there when you both came home hours before, surrounded by gift wrappers, fairy lights, and covered in glitter.
Though, he didn’t celebrate the holidays as much as others would before. His outlook in life had drastically changed ever since you’d formally been together. With you, there was something to look forward to.
This would be your first Christmas together, and he awaited the day you would ask when you would shop for decorations but you didn’t probably conflicted to ask but this will not do the next time.
His steps are cautious as he sits down behind you, arranging actual gifts beneath the tree, before slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. Though you could smell the faint jasmine of your body soap that he always ‘mistakenly’ used, you let him embrace you from behind.
“I missed you,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, as his eyes locked in on the wrapped items and then you, “but it seems you were quite productive in my absence,”
Your cheeks heat up at his words and he presses another kiss to your temple.
“I’m sorry I know you don’t like celebrating,” you turned and explained. “But I hoped you’d make an exception,”
“I will,” his grip around your waist tightened, as your smile widened, “Every year for the rest of our lives,”
“Please don’t joke with me,” you gaped. His gaze was steady as his fingers brushed away the glitter that dusted your cheeks, “Really?”
“I hope you left something to do for me,” your heart swelled at his words. “I can’t have you doing all the work,”
“There is one thing,” you reached for the star, behind the wrappers, and presented it to him, “For you,”
Severus sighed.
Of course, you saved this particular thing for last but then again you couldn’t reach the top of the tree nor would you want to use magic to do this sort of thing.
In tandem, you stand, Severus on his toes as he reaches up to place the star at the top of the tree, and as soon as it’s situated it illuminates a soft yellow glow. Your eyes twinkled happily, and his heart was full at the sight of your happiness.
In the background, the clock chimes midnight. Just in time.
“Happy Christmas,” you whispered. Your lips curved in a smile as you faced him, “Happy Christmas, darling,”
Without a word further, his lips meet yours in a warm and gentle kiss. The world fades into the background in his arms. Your soft breaths further urged kindling desires as you pulled back for air.
Your foreheads rest against the other’s, cheeks tinged pink, and lips plump as his eyes only focus on you. There was a smidge of glitter on his sleepwear from your antics.
“Can we take this to bed?” his voice baritone vibrated through as he flicks his wand effortlessly to clean up, “If you’re not too exhausted?”
warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), consensual even though it doesn’t seem like it
I struggled against the big man that was dragging me past my coworkers and into the office. I was thrown down in front of the desk. The man behind the desk leaned over it and looked down at me. I rubbed my arm as I glared at the big man that had carried me in.
"Thanks Kurt." Hans said as he got up. Kurt walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Walking around the desk, he leaned against it and stared down at me. "Are you going to stay down there or are you going to get up?"
"What are you going to do about it?" I shot back. Hans raised an eyebrow at me, watching as I got up. "What did you drag me in here for? Forcibly I might add." Hans smirked at me.
"I think you know." He said, walking in front of me. "There is a reason I had you dragged in here in front of your coworkers and friends. And if they don't know what is going on, they will know soon." Hans grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. My hands hit his chest as he kissed me. I groaned and struggled in his hold. Hans broke away with a smirk. I hit his chest and tried to break away. He grabbed me in a bruising grip. "I don't think so (Y/N)." I stared at him with wide eyes.
"How do you know who I am?" I whispered. Hans chuckled darkly as he went to work getting my pants off.
"You think that I don't do my research?" Hans teased as he pushed me on the couch. "You think I go into something like this without knowing who I am going to encounter? Who I am going to have to con?" He climbed on top of me as he unbuckled his belt. He pushed down his pants as he grabbed my legs and forced them around his waist. "This is a tough job sweetheart. Stressful and full of things that I can't control." Hans stroked his dick as he lined up. "Good thing there is some stress relief readily available." I cried out as Hans thrust into me. I tried to push him away but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the couch.
“you asshole!” I cried as he built up a steady rhythm. Hans chuckled as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.
“But you love it.” He whispered in my ear. “I believe you told me once you wouldn’t have it any other way.” I arched my back, pressing my chest against his as I bit back a moan.
“still an asshole though.” I breathed out. “All this show…” I gasped as he thrust up into me, slowing down so he could thrust deeper into me.
“you and I both know that if they knew what you really were, they’d throw you to me the first chance they got anyway.” He reminded me. I turned my head away from him as my mouth fell open. Hans covered my mouth as I orgasmed, eyes fluttering closed as he slowly removed his hand. Hans groaned as he came. Slowly pulling out, he righted my clothes before pulling his own pants back on. “Keep playing the part darling and we’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“sitting on a beach earning twenty percent.” I said, smiling at him. Hans gave me a wink before grabbing my arm and pulling me up.
“I’ll send for you when I need you again.” He whispered before throwing me out of his office and watching me stagger back down to sit next to holly.
Character: Eli Michaelson (Nobel Son)
Relationships: Eli x reader
Warnings: smut, student/teacher hookup
Read on Ao3 or below:
You closed your laptop with a sigh. You’d tried pretty much every spot on campus you could think of, but everywhere was crowded and noisy, and you just couldn’t focus. You left the study hall with your laptop under your arms, trying to think of where you could go to get your coursework done. You needed somewhere quiet, somewhere no one would disturb you - preferably somewhere with a lock.
As you wandered through the halls of the college, you passed through the science block, and an idea struck you. It was a long shot, but you thought you might as well give it a go.
You found your Chemistry professor’s office door and knocked. After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal a frowning Dr Michaelson.
“Office hours are over,” he said shortly. He hesitated, though, looking you up and down thoughtfully. “…I might make an exception, though. What do you want?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr Michaelson, and I know this is gonna be a real cheeky ask…”
Dr Michaelson raised an eyebrow curiously and leant against the doorframe, his arms folded.
“I’m tryna do my math homework but everywhere on campus is so busy, I can’t focus. Is there any chance I could just sit in the lab to do my homework?”
“And risk knocking something over?” Dr Michaelson scoffed. “No chance. But… you could work in here.”
That took you aback.
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Sure. Just keep the noise down, would ya? I got my own work to do.”
Dr Michaelson stepped back and opened the door, gesturing for you to come in.
“Wow, thanks, Dr Michaelson, I really appreciate it. I owe you one.”
You said this as you walked into the office, so you didn’t see the hungry smirk that teased at the corner of your professor’s lips when he heard that.
“Not a problem at all, [Y/n]. Anything my students need. Here - lemme make you some space.”
He gathered up some of the papers strewn over his desk to make some space, then pulled a chair around for you. You thanked him again as you sat at his desk next to him.
“Now, don’t go telling everyone they can do this,” Dr Michaelson said firmly. “This is a one time thing, you hear? You caught me in a good mood.”
You mimed zipping your lips closed. Dr Michaelson smiled, then turned back to his own work.
You opened your laptop and loaded up your math homework again. Finally, you were able to concentrate. You liked having company when you studied, but not the obnoxiously loud company that Stanford seemed to be full of today. It was nice having Dr Michaelson for company, because he didn’t disturb you, and you were able to really focus on your homework.
Although he was mostly quiet, you did hear Dr Michaelson grumble under his breath sometimes. After the third “fuck’s sake” from him, you had to glance over.
“Something wrong?” you asked with amusement.
“I hate computers,” Dr Michaelson replied with a grumble as he hit the backspace button aggressively. “It keeps telling me I’m spelling Musettamycin wrong.”
You peered over at the screen, where his word processor had put a red squiggle under ‘Musetamycin’.
“It has two Ts,” you said.
Dr Michaelson frowned at you. “I think I know how to spell Musettamycin, [Y/n]. I am a Nobel Laureate.”
“Yeah, in Chemistry, not English.”
He narrowed his eyes, then stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. He flicked through the pages, apparently found what he was looking for, and quickly put the book back on the shelf.
“Well done. You passed my test.”
He sat back down and added an extra T, and the red line promptly disappeared. You giggled.
“Do I get extra credit?”
Dr Michaelson looked at you thoughtfully.
“You get one chance for my help with your math homework.”
“Who says I need help?”
Your professor scoffed.
“You’re smart, [Y/n], but you ain’t that smart. You’ll need it,” he said confidently.
He turned back to his work, and you to yours - and, sure enough, eventually you came across a problem you just couldn’t solve.
“Alright, I admit it, I need help.”
Dr Michaelson leaned back in his chair with a triumphant grin.
“Well, well, well…”
“Stop!” you laughed. “Are you gonna help me or not?”
Dr Michaelson sighed dramatically. “Well, there are drawbacks to being a Nobel Laureate, I suppose. Everyone thinks you know everything - which I do. Come on, then, let’s have a look.”
He scooted his chair closer to yours to look at your screen.
“Oh, that’s easy. You gotta find a substitution to simplify it. Look at the denominator - what kind of substitution d’you think you need?”
“Uhm…”
Your mind went blank for a moment when you felt Dr Michaelson’s breath on your cheek. You realised suddenly that he’d scooted very close to you. He had one arm on the back of your chair, while with his other hand he pointed at one of the integers on your screen.
“Oh, er… trigonomic, right?”
“Good girl,” said Dr Michaelson, and you felt a strange shiver run across you, like he’d said some secret code to make you blush. He glanced at you, clearly noticing your reaction, and smirked.
“So… choose a substitution.”
He spoke softly, as if he were talking about something very different.
You cleared your throat and went to write out a substitution, trying not to get distracted by how very close to you he was. Dr Michaelson pulled his hand away from your screen… and rested it on your knee.
You could feel his gaze burning into you as you wrote out your workings, and when you paused, he glanced back at your screen.
“Good. Now, rewrite it in terms of theta.”
You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do that when his hand was still on your knee… or when it began moving up your leg, his fingers grazing your inner thigh. Was your Chemistry professor seriously coming onto you right now?
“Good girl… so smart,” Dr Michaelson muttered in your ear. “I don’t think you need my help at all… you just wanted some attention, huh?”
You could feel your heart racing. Your cheeks were burning red, but it just seemed to spur him on.
“Is it really all that busy on campus, [Y/n]? Was I really your only option for some peace and quiet? I don’t think so…”
“I, um… I remembered you said the lab stays locked…”
Dr Michaelson chuckled, his deep voice reverberating in your ear.
“Mmm, and you wanted to get me behind a locked door, is that it?”
“N - no, I…”
You gasped as Dr Michaelson reached the top of your thigh, but instead of stopping, he just kept going, his large hand suddenly cupping your crotch firmly through your pants.
“It’s bad form to lie to your professors, [Y/n],” he whispered. “I could report you for academic misconduct, you know.”
He stroked you with his fingers, and even through the fabric of your clothing, it sent a tingling feeling right to your core.
“Dr Michaelson…”
“Call me Eli.”
“Eli… how do you know I won’t - ah!” - another squeeze from him - “won’t… report you for this?”
He smirked.
“Are you telling me you don’t want it, [Y/n]? Say you don’t want it and I’ll stop.”
He continued caressing your crotch, his fingers dancing dangerously close to your zipper.
“It’s… it’s bad form to lie to my professors,” you said, stealing a glance at him. His pupils were wide with lust, his confident smirk on his lips just begging to be kissed.
Eli chuckled.
“Smart girl.”
He unzipped your pants and slipped his hand inside, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.
“Wet already?” he teased, his fingers exploring your folds as you tried to keep your lips closed tight, lest you cry out a little too loud and be heard in the corridor. “My, you are an eager little thing, aren’t you?”
He pushed two fingers between your inner folds, digging deeper into the wetness that was pooling between your legs. You bit your lip, your eyelids fluttering, and let out another whine when Eli’s fingertip found your sweet spot.
“You need to simplify the expression,” he murmured in your ear as his finger circled your clit.
Your eyes fluttered open, confused.
“I - huh?”
Eli nodded towards your computer screen. “Simplify it, then integrate with respect to theta. Then your integral will be straightforward.”
What the fuck was wrong with him?
What the fuck was wrong with you, for that matter?
He stopped his movements very suddenly, and you whined in frustration.
“Go on. Show me how clever you are.”
You tried to clear your mind and focus on the expression on your computer screen, but you were far more interested in the finger that was now circling your clit again, spreading your wetness around as you tried to remember what numbers were.
“Good girl,” Eli said again. He’d clearly figured out how weak you were to those words, and he was using them to his full advantage. “What do we do next?”
Finger me, you thought.
“Substitute back to x,” you said.
“Go on, then. You can finish it from here.”
As your fingers moved across the keyboard, his fingers moved down through your folds, and pushed at the entrance to your pussy.
“One more step. Go on.”
You cried out as his fingers slipped inside you, but you kept going, willing your mind to try and think about stupid numbers at a time like this.
“Root over four minus x squared,” you said aloud, trying to ignore the way Eli’s fingers were crawling deeper inside you, reaching out to find your G-spot.
“And then - ah! - plus C.”
You sighed with relief as you finished your answer.
Eli smirked.
“See? You didn’t need my help with math. But I do think you needed my help with this, didn’t you?”
The hand that was on the back of your chair reached around to slide under your arm and grab your breast through your t-shirt as he began pumping his fingers harder inside you. You moaned.
“You like that, huh? You like getting fingered by your professor?”
“Y - yes,” you admitted. “It feels so good…”
“You think this is good? Just wait ‘til you feel my cock… you’ll be coming back every day on the pretence of needing help with homework, but really you just need my cock.”
You let out a moan of his name, which seemed to spur him on, as he began fingering you more aggressively, his other hand pawing at your breast, as if he were resisting tearing your clothes off to get straight to your flesh.
You grabbed onto the arm of your chair to steady yourself, and with your other hand, you reached over to Eli’s lap to cup his hard length beneath his trousers, and you couldn’t hide your reaction when you felt how big he was.
“You want it, huh? You want my cock, [Y/n]? Go on, tell me you want it… all you have to do is ask…”
“P - please, Dr Michaelson,” you panted. “I need your cock. Please - please, fuck me on your desk…”
Eli groaned, overwhelmed with arousal at your words. He withdrew his hands from you, then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your lips connected with his instantly, his arms wrapped around your torso, and you could feel his rock hard erection straining through his trousers, rubbing against your own far too clothed crotch.
He was a sloppy kisser, seemingly trying to get as much of his saliva in and around your mouth as possible. You reached down to unbuckle his belt, and he groaned with relief when some of the pressure on his cock was relieved.
“Fucking hungry little minx,” Eli growled as you fumbled with his belt. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Fingering yourself to the thought of me… mhm, I know you have. Go on, get those damn pants off.”
He pushed you off his lap, and you obediently pushed your pants and underwear down past your knees, kicking them off along with your shoes while Eli finished opening his fly and pulled his cock out from underneath his boxers.
He hummed with satisfaction as he looked at you, pulling languidly on his cock as he took in the view of you, naked from the waist down, your pussy soaked and ready for him.
Oh, he had definitely found his new plaything.
Well, he’d better test her out.
He got to his feet and kissed you again, his cock brushing against your skin, his lips parting from yours only to pull your t-shirt over your head. He grinned when he saw the lacy bra you were wearing.
“Someone had a plan when she got dressed this morning,” he said smugly. “Did you decide to seduce your professor this morning or were you already planning it last night?”
“I like to wear this sometimes,” you admitted. “It makes me feel confident.”
“Mmm, and damn right too… God, those tits are so fuckable. Maybe another day, hm? I promised you my cock and you’re gonna get my cock. It’s what you deserve for being such a smart girl. Now - on the desk.”
You obediently hopped up onto the desk, perched on the edge, but Eli placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pushed you onto your back. You could feel papers sliding around beneath your back, and you had to push aside a stapler that was digging into your shoulder, but something about getting fucked by Dr Eli Michaelson on his work was incredibly hot.
“Look at you, fucking hell,” Eli growled as he rolled a condom he’d pulled from a drawer down his shaft. “You’re gonna get your slutty pussy juice all over my papers. Ah, well.”
He entered you with one fluid motion, causing you to cry out in surprise as his cock pierced your cunt, sliding easily up your walls, stretching them out with a delicious burn that sent your pleasure receptors wild.
Eli kept a firm grip on your thighs as he thrusted into you, groaning with abandon and no apparent care for who might be walking by.
“God, I fucking needed this,” he moaned. After his wife had left him and his last plaything graduated, he’d been going through a frustrating dry spell. And now here you were, presenting yourself at his office with your low-cut top and your tight little ass. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“Oh, fuck - fuck, Dr Michaelson, that feels so good…”
He smirked proudly at your moans. He knew just how good he was at fucking, but he still loved to hear it.
“Your cunt’s full of my cock, [Y/n]… I think we’re on first name terms now.”
You laughed, which quickly turned into a groan of surprise when Eli pushed your thighs back further, spreading your pussy out for him as his hips pummelled into your flesh.
“How long have you wanted this, [Y/n]?” Eli asked. “Did you walk out of my first lecture with soaking wet panties? Or did it take you a few lectures to realise how badly you wanted my cock?”
“I - I always thought you were handsome,” you admitted. “Ever since I - ah! - saw your picture in the paper when you got your Nobel Prize. I saw you worked at Stanford and - oh! - applied for my postgrad here.”
Eli grinned, his ego swelling as much as his cock.
“You applied here just so you could fuck me?”
“No!” you insisted. “I was gonna go to UCLA, but I thought - mhm - if I came here instead, I could study under a - ah! - a Nobel Laureate - fuck!”
Eli picked up his pace, fucking into your cunt furiously, the stroking of his ego sending a fresh wave of lust over him.
“Mmm, now look at you - you’re certainly under me now, huh?”
The desk was shaking violently, papers flying everywhere, and you heard the crash of a pen pot falling to the floor. Neither of you paid much mind to it.
“I might just have to schedule some one to one tutoring with you, [Y/n]… since you went to such lengths to be under me. Would you like that?”
“Y - yes,” you panted, your voice straining as you felt pleasure coiling inside you. “I think that would be - ugh - beneficial… fuck, Eli, I’m gonna cum…”
“Mmm, yes, cum all over my cock,” Eli growled. “God, look at you… fucking magnificent… and all mine…”
He released one of your legs from his grip to press his thumb against your clit, and as soon as he began rubbing circles around the swollen bundle of nerves, you knew you were done for.
“Yes… yes… Eli…”
“Fuck, [Y/n], I’m so close… I’m gonna cum so fucking hard…”
His moans increased, his thumb rubbing your clit and his cock furiously fucking into your cunt, and combined with the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face, you felt yourself tipping over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your legs twitching and your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm overwhelmed you.
Feeling you cum around his cock was the last straw for Eli, and he moaned loudly as he came too, filling the condom with his seed as he continued fucking you through his orgasm, hips stuttering erratically as he came inside a cunt for the first time in far too long, and such a warm, tight one too.
Eli stayed buried inside you for a few moments as his movements stilled and you both caught your breath. Then, he pulled out of you with a loud squelching sound, and passed you a box of tissues to clean yourself up.
“Fuck, that was so good,” he panted as he pulled the spent condom from his cock and deposited it in the bin.
You mumbled what sounded like “uh-huh” in agreement, your mind still addled from the pleasure as you tried to mop up as much as you could from between your legs.
When finally you’d managed to locate your clothes and get them back on, Eli was sitting back in his chair, watching you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Well, I’d certainly give you an A for that,” he said proudly.
You laughed.
“What, am I majoring in sex now?”
“If you did, you’d be top of the class.”
He passed you your laptop, which thankfully hadn’t been damaged by your escapades.
“So… reckon you need some one-to-one tutoring?”
You blushed under his intense gaze, his eyes still staring at you hungrily.
“If you think I need it, Professor,” you said coyly.
Eli grinned and reached around to give your ass a squeeze.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Nobel Laureate Dr. Eli Michaelson (😂) x Fem!Reader
Summary: In where Eli gets jealous and reminds [Y/n] who she belongs to.
Tag(s)/Warning(s): Smut (p in v, student/teacher, facial (and not the one u get at a spa) )
A/N: Ah yes if it isn't Doctor Eli Michaelson Nobel Laureate 😂. Please enjoy this fun little smut piece for the world's Sexiest asshole. I swear I come up with the most unhinged things for this man I do not regret it.
There were a lot of things you quickly learned when you began your sordid affair with your Chemistry professor, soon after you had become his teaching assistant.
One, was that his pleasure came first when you two fucked around. Whether it be in the classroom right before a lesson started, or in his office when you were helping him grade papers, Eli came first.
Well not physically. Surprisingly, he always made sure you got off beforehand, granted that wasn't a very difficult task when he fucked you better than any other person you ever dated could. Him and his stupid large cock and knowing how to use it.
No, he made sure you knew he was in control of any, and all pleasure you received, and that what mattered most, was him getting to make a mess of you in whichever way he found sated his hunger for that moment.
It was a good thing for him that you were a bit of a sexual deviant, happy to be his toy if he wanted, considering it got you off as much as it did him. Maybe you ought to seek some professional help with that. You heard that the psychology department was taking volunteers for a cognitive trial for something or another. Maybe it would sort you out.
Another thing that you learned about him, was boy did he have an ego. Technically, you had learned that even before you were anywhere in his orbit. Considering he had a Noble Prize, it was easy to see why his head would be so far stuck in his ass.
Again though, only about a hundred or so people had earned that achievement in Chemistry, and him being one of them, surely did more for his ego than anything else could. Well, maybe also the way his students would throw themselves at him. Both because of his academic prowess and because of how good his cock was.
Look, you weren't naive, and you also weren't going to delude yourself that you were the only pussy his dick was finding a home in. Who cared? As long as was bending you over his desk every other day and making you come like no other man had, he could do whatever he wanted.
Shame you would lose such good dick after you graduated, but that was for future you to worry about. Present you, was having too much fun to care. And plus, he probably be more than happy to fuck an alumnus. It'd stroke his ego even more that you would come back after graduating.
Huh, maybe you should do your PhD here as well.
Oh yeah, and one last thing, for someone who like to fuck around a lot Eli Michaelson sure was a possessive asshole. That was something you found out more recently. Though, with the way he had an obsession with decorating your neck, and other areas of your body that people could see with bruises, you should have picked up on that earlier.
Again, it wasn't really a focus of yours when you were too busy trying to stay conscious and upright as he fucked you silly.
Kind of like…right now.
"F-fuck, fuck oh Eli!"
Your eyes, which you had no idea had fluttered closed as he railed you, shot back open as he slammed into you with a loud grunt. The tip of him pressing harshly against your cervix, causing hot ropes of pleasure to trail down your legs as they stiffened against his side. The burning engulfed your pussy in the most delicious way as you spread open even wider for him, one leg on each side of his thick thighs as he snapped his hips against yours with unbridled fury. The smacking of skin was loud, and very much obscene as your hands tried to claw at anything on the table, only causing the papers on his desk to fly off as you tried not to slide down from your position.
God thing he was fucking you so hard and at such a furious pace, that each thrust had you practically scooting back up on the desk.
Whatever had gotten into him, you didn't know but you sure did like it.
"Fucking!" -Thrust- "Little!" -Thrust- "Slut!" Each word was punctuated with him thrusting into you, and each time your back arched off the desk as a cry left your lips that still had the lingering taste of his cock on it.
"Didn't think I catch you rubbing up against that dumb as bricks grad student did you? Fluttering your little eyelashes with that stupid low cut shirt like you wanted him to see your tits!"
"Fuck Eli, ah! I was just, mmm fuck, just helping him! Oh god," you gasped, as he kept up his pace, cock dragging along your sensitive channel, "he was, shit aah, having trouble with gravimetric analysis!"
"Oh you were just helping huh? And how were you going to do that because he sure seemed more interested in what was under your shirt!" He snapped, as he grabbed at your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin as you squirmed helplessly against him. Unsure if you were trying to get away from him or get his dick deeper into you.
You were sure it was the latter though.
"Gonna suck his tiny dick and hope he learns by osmosis huh?"
Had you not been drunk on his cock, and your cunt not fluttering wildly at how deranged he was acting, you would have laughed. But alas that was for another time.
For someone who fucked around a lot, he sure was a hypocrite when someone else did the same. Not that you had any intention, or want to do that with that particular student.
"E-Eli Jesus, fuck!" You cried out as he leaned down on you, his body weight crushing you like a human-weighted blanket, and forcing himself deeper inside of you.
Your warm, velvety channel, was more than happy to accommodate the position, squeezing him, as he rolled his hips while mouthing at your exposed neck that was damp with sweat. "Unlike some people, I don't go fucking everyone that comes for help!"
"Well if I didn't, ngh, I'd be depriving you of the best dick you'll ever had wouldn't I be?"
He wasn't wrong there. But you didn't want to stroke his ego any more than you already were. Instead, you just opted to moan out your answer as he explored your body with a wandering hand. His hand moved up and down your tummy where he pawed at the skin, causing you to whine before he trailed himself up your front, wrapping a hand around one of your tits that bounced up and down each time he would force himself into you.
A little cry left your lips as he leaned down and bit at the perky nipple before his tongue soothed the ache, licking the swollen nub and sucking it causing your already sensitive body to tremble even more singling you were about ready to burst.
He seemed to feel it too as his thrusts began to speed up, hitting that spot in you harder, and faster. Your legs stiffened more and more as you let out whines that increased in volume, just like the sound of your wet cunt being fucked mercilessly.
You were sure your inner thighs were going to be bruised with how hard they were pressed against Eli, but it wouldn't be the first time, and it sure wasn't going to be the last.
With one more harsh thrust, your body seized, and your insides gripped Eli's cock, causing a shout of your name to leave his lips, as you shook underneath him while your orgasm washed over you.
"Eli oh Eli fuck, oh god," you whispered and sobbed over and over as your stomach twisted and knotted pleasurably. Your hips stilling rolling uncontrollably against his body.
Wave after wave of heat rolled in your stomach, and it took you a few moments to come down from your high. Only to find that the man above you was still hard and, that he hadn't come yet. Add to that your blurry thoughts and that wicked smirk that you barely registered on his face, and it was no surprise your foggy mind was confused.
"Wh-what are you- AH!"
Before you had time to finish your sentence, his cock was sliding out of your sensitive hole that tried to clench around him, and you wanted to whine about the sudden emptiness, but that was cut off too, as he dragged himself off of you, and dragged you to the ground unceremoniously.
You were about to protest as you got on your knees, but was quickly stopped by a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you were greeted with the sight of his still erect cock, which was very angry looking and very wet from the both of you.
Had he not been holding you back, you would probably have dived right in and sucked him off. But it seemed like he had other plans as you watched him begin to jerk off in front of you.
"Fuckin' shit [Y/n]," he hissed the slick sounds of him pumping his cock now echoing in the room as you watched him with eyes still dark with lust.
A shock of thrill ran up your spine as you automatically stuck your tongue out ready to catch his seed, your hips already rocking back and forth as that familiar pressure began to grow again.
"Mmm yeah going swallow everything I give you aren't you? I bet you let me come all over your face too. Make you go to that useless piece of shit and show him that the only cock that's gonna use you is mine's."
God he was so possessive. Had it been anyone else, it be irritating, yet, by the way you clenched at nothing from his words, your body seemed to agree with him.
"Do it then, come on my face Eli," you purred as your hands found purchase on his thick thighs, and you lifted your face upwards towards his cock so he could make a mess of you. "Paint my face sir please, please, please want it all over me. Want you to mess me up please come sir please~!"
The wanton begging, paired with the way you licked your lips and humped the ground waiting for him to shoot his load on you, seemed to spur him into a frenzy.
He pumped himself faster, the grip on his cock tightening just as his balls did the same. Ready to empty everything on you, and before you both knew it, hot liquid began to spurt from the angry tip onto your face. It landed on your forehead, cheeks and some of the salty liquid landed on your tongue, which you savored as you watched his face twist in pleasure and a loud shout of your name left his lips as he emptied the sticky, hot seed on you.
"Tilt your head up," he gritted out, and while you didn't know why, you did what you were told, exposing your neck to him as he continued to spurt the last of his cum on you.
Hot stripes of liquid landed across your collarbone, and you let out a watery moan at the feeling of being made a mess of. God you probably looked insane right now with his cum all over you, but boy did it make your cunt want some more of him.
With that little show though, it seemed he had finally completely emptied himself as he let out a satisfied huff as he looked at you. A smirk crept onto his features as he took in his handy work, and you could only imagine what was going through his mind.
Probably something along the lines of doing it again or whatever. Not that you would protest. But what came out of his mouth next had you sputtering a bit with how out of pocket it was.
"Next time maybe if you show him that necklace I just got for you, he'll pay more attention to his work than thinking about fucking you."
Pairing: Severus x Female Reader, Reader uses She/her
Summary: Severus gets a sick after spending too much time outside in the cold.
AN: I wrote this in record-breaking time, at least for me. I want to do a few more prompts for Rickmas this year but I definitely don't have time for all of them sadly. Expect at least four more Rickmas prompts! As always, be wary of spelling errors and general nonsensical sentences, let me know if you see any! As this is one of my more less developed one-shots I can guarantee errors.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“I absolutely cannot believe your stupidity!” You shrieked. Staring down at Hogwarts’s youngest and most infuriat- “most brilliant professor”. Pale and sickly, Severus lay there barely conscious listening to your verbal degradation as he shivered.
“You are overreacting woman”, he muttered, unable to keep his eyes open and his teeth from chattering as you surrounded him with all the warmth you possibly could. Hearing you slowly fade into the background as he drifted off to sleep once more, he was suddenly awoken by you violently shoving a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in his mouth, which he promptly choked on.
Sputtering, his eyes shot open as he coughed, sitting up in your bed, “What in the blazes!? Are you trying to kill me!?” Glaring at him from your seat next to the bed, you were holding the mug of soup you had lovingly made for dinner before you found out your husband had just so happened to decide to frolic in the snow without so much as a coat.
“You let yourself get hypothermia! You’re the one with a death wish!” you said, wrapping him up in yet another heated blanket after setting the mug of soup down on his nightstand. Standing up, you walked over to the fireplace and jabbed at the log with the poker. “Seriously Sev, it’s the middle of December! In Scotland for Merlin’s sake! We live in a castle surrounded by water! The wind chill alone is enough just cause to avoid prolonged periods out in this horrific weather!” you huffed, poking at the log with a little more aggression than you intended.
Severus, tucked into his mountain of dark blankets, resembled a bat in its most defeated form looking uncharacteristically pitiful. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for having been so harsh. Nevertheless, the sight was absurd—cocooned in those signature shades of green and black, as though he couldn’t bring himself to wear anything more undignified than that, he looked so out of place, wrapped in those blankets so tightly that even his sense of bitterness seemed muffled. Mentally poking fun at him for the earlier fit he threw when you offered him a pink blanket you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement, heaven forbid he ever consider something as utterly disgraceful as a pink blanket to provide him with warmth even if he so desperately needed it.
Placing your hand over his forehead Severus flinched slightly, still a little delirious and barely conscious, “How are you feeling?” you said softly, feeling bad for being up in his face for getting sick. His face, obscured slightly by all the blankets, was barely visible save for his eyes, which held their usual sharp glare. His cheeks were slightly flushed now, adding an adorable shade of rosiness to the potion’s master's usual pale complexion.
“I’m fine” he muttered, yet his voice was nasally and groggy, giving his obvious sickness away. He was not fine, in fact, he was far from it. Frostbitten, ill, and hypothermic a mere two hours ago, Severus was the epitome of “not fine”. A sharp almost imperceptible sigh left his lips as he shifted underneath your concerned gaze.
“You’re lying,” you shook your head quietly, rolling your eyes in exasperation before brushing your fingers against his forehead again. Sighing, you spoke once more, “You’re sick Sev…” you said softly, worry creeping into your voice as you felt how high his fever had risen.
He didn’t respond at first, letting the silence stretch on to an uncomfortable degree, much like a child trying to ignore the consequences of their actions by willing them away.
Finally, with a low grumble, he shifted uncomfortably, “I’m not accustomed to being coddled,” he said with a half-hearted sneer, though it lacked its usual venom. He was too exhausted to offer any sarcasm or biting remarks.
You softened at his reluctant admittance and momentary vulnerability, it was something you knew took a lot of strength for him to verbalize. Lowering your hand to brush your hand against his cheek after you pushed the blankets out of his face, a smile tugged at your lips, “I know Sev,” you murmured. “But you’re human, and that means you can’t just shut yourself out when you’re vulnerable, physically and emotionally,” you said, brushing his hair out of his face.
He gave you a pointed look from beneath his pile of fabric, his expression skeptical, but it was clear the only reason you were spared from one of his usual retorts was because he simply did not have the energy for one.
Deciding to take pity on him and spare him from the awkward silence you spoke up, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” You said, coming to the conclusion that Severus was absolutely not going to take his illness seriously, nor was he going to take it easy unless you kept him under constant supervision. Already turning around to search your nightstand on the opposite side of the bed for the hot compress you had, you waited for his response.
He watched you sift through your nightstand for the hot compress, not so subtly checking you out as you bent down. His eyes trailed down your back and landed on your ass, turning around, you arched a brow at him, catching him in the act. Giving him the stereotypical, unimpressed wife look, you gently placed the hot compress on his forehead, causing him to sigh in relief, “Perv” you said lightheartedly.
Huffing in what seemed to be amusement, he looked up at your face, “I’d love for my wife to stop mother-henning me and join me in bed” he huffed reaching out for your waist so he could drag you into bed.
Letting him pull you into his arms, you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his shivering body frowning as you felt him shaking. “Are you cold?” you mumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around him.
“For Merlin’s sake woman, you have me swaddled in several heated blankets, I am warm enough,” he said, rolling his eyes. Dragging you underneath his blankets, he pulled you atop his body, holding your hips before he decided to playfully grope your ass. “Any chance we could partake in other activities that raise one’s body temperature?” He said playfully, arching one of his eyebrows at you in amusement.
Staring at him in disbelief, you let out what seemed to be the hundredth exasperated sigh of the day, “By Merlin you are insatiable.”
Next Rickmas Prompt: Day 9 - Unwanted Solitude - Detective David Friedman
