#prof/student au

[hotchshands]

Teacher’s Pet|Professor!HotchxReader AU

Masterlist | Taglist

Synopsis: Every university student must take two university lectures before graduation, so you signed up for Professor Hotchner's lecture, Intro to Profiling. You were not by any means a Criminology major, but Professor Hotchner was hot, so you had to register for the class. You were lucky enough to get a seat in it but not so lucky, considering Professor Hotchner has a reputation for being strict, but not when it came to you. Professor Hotchner had a soft spot for you and wanted nothing more than to give you an A, which leads you to get down and dirty with the 45-year-old man.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

New chapters every other Sunday at 11:59 pm! Chapters in red are nsfw!

[sweet--escape17]

"If you can hold it until lectures are over, you can choose your reward sweetheart.."

[hyosonn]

sugarcoatin’ hurtful kisses ₊˚.༄ ೃ

trying to move on from your s/o! how would he react being distanced from you?

starring... Gojo Satoru

TAGS – xoxo. nsfw, smut, student-teacher relationship, non-con, possessive behavior, jealousy, toxic relationship, no communication, reader is AFAB, unrequited love at some point, not an established relationship, fluff, non-label cheating (?), modern au

prompt #1 for kinktober

GOJO’s the playful type; The one who'd purposely diss you for embarrassing yourself at recit 'till you cry while curling his fingers inside your gummy walls. It’s simple, you're both in completely different worlds. It's funny, to say the least. at campus, you try to avoid him even though you know you can't. Life's too long to be avoiding one's handsome teacher, right? though it's not like he cares or anything, he has other bed warmers (who are actually around his age gap) to get entertained with, anyway. but the way your oh so eyelashes bat an eye while being picked up by some rando while being in his class damages Satoru’s sensitive ego. tryin’ to move on from his annoying, long ass dick? not so fast. pissed, why'd you even cry your tears out for him? thought you only cried from pleasure? so, because Satoru’s such a sweetheart, instead of being at some work meeting he's at your dorm admitting his feelings. it's such a relief, really. a week of no pleasure from you at all was the key to persuading you to accept his treaty offer.

“h–hah, L/N, you whore,” he breathily moaned, slowly stretching your cunt with his cock. why'd you avoid him? you moved on? he caught up with your so called crush with him but he didn't know you'll try to move on. he won't let that, ever. “h–heard you missed m–m’ class to sleep with other fratboys, huh?” he slapped your clitoris, painfully but pleasuring. you winced, shaking your head to deny the alleged sayings. “n–no? hah, caught y–you flirtin’ with some normie in class, d–don’t deserve this cock–” he lowered his pace, his cock lightly touching your cervix. it caused your legs to jerk at him, his grip on your thighs tight. “n–no, ‘toru, p–pleas–” your words got caught up jumbled with a moan, his thumb flickering your sensitive, poor clit. “it’s sir, L/N, don't you ‘toru me.” your whimper made him plant a kiss on your ear, body pressed to yours against the mattress. he's been waiting all freakin’ week of you, wondering why’d you disappear. no wonder. bundle of nerves caught up to his hair, whining softly to him. “s–sir, p–please, g–gonna want you–” he slapped your clit one more time before biting a soft part of your cupid’s bow chuckling. Satoru’s tone was deep, harsh. enough to let a rush of relief wash over you. “7 PM, wednesday, g–get ready. g–gonna eat out at the new diner near, ‘kay?” his legs snapped with your, cock and pleasure slowly building up. you moaned, nodding so abruptly he'll breed you all night.

“fuck, l–love you, sweet thing, all m–mine, yeah?”

[lunarbuck]

The Kiss (prof!bucky x f!reader)

AU- Professor/Student

Pairing: professor!bucky x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.2k

Summary: You’ve always had a crush on Professor Barnes… little did you know he has been hiding some feelings of his own

Warnings: age difference, fluff, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), pet names (Sir, sweetheart, baby), praise

A/N: this is my entry for @the-slumberparty Week 4 challenge! the AU I got was professor/student and I've been wanting to write this for a long time!!! I hope you guys enjoy <3

full masterlist

“That’s it for today. You’re all dismissed.” Book bags and jackets zip loudly as the small lecture center begins to empty. You start packing up your things, but you don’t get out of your seat yet. This certainly has been your favorite of all the classes you’ve taken in the past four years. White Collar Crime, taught by Professor Barnes, is one of the most interesting courses you’ve taken, and you also love the professor. 

Prof. Barnes is a lawyer by day, and a lecturer by evening, as he says. And though he’s often incredibly busy with cases, it's easy to see how passionate he is about teaching. You watch as he packs up his belongings, a few students quickly asking him questions about the upcoming exam. Prof. Barnes used to seem scary and intimidating to you, but after a few weeks, you started catching glimpses of his grin, of light in his eye, and you’ve been a goner ever since. 

His features are sharp, and he always looks so put together. His brown hair is clipped close on the sides and kept short on top, which suits his personality well. His broody exterior is one that most people fear, but it just draws you in, and you can’t seem to stay away.

You grab your things and start toward the front of the room. Typically, you make up a question as an excuse to talk to him, but today you have a real one. You’re the last student in the room, and Prof. Barnes is already watching you approach.

“Hi,” you greet, rocking back and forth on your heels momentarily. “Last week, you mentioned being able to go over our exam answers with you, so we know what to study. Could I schedule time with you to do that?” You do your best not to let your eyes drift from his, but it’s tough. His shirts are always perfectly tailored to him, showing off his broad shoulders and strong legs. 

Prof. Barnes doesn’t smile, but you can see the warmth in his eyes, which is better, in your opinion. “Of course. Do you have time now? This was my last class of the evening, so we can just go right to my office.” Your heart stutters in your chest at his words. You’ve gone to his office hours a few times, but there’ve always been other students outside or in the office with you. You’ve never been alone with him like that.

And as it turns out, you don’t have anything going on for the rest of the night. “That works for me,” you say, grinning. Prof. Barnes leads the way out of the lecture hall and to the building where his office is. Even though neither of you speaks the entire way, you’re buzzing. He walks close enough that sometimes your arms brush, and you can smell his cologne. 

When you arrive in his office, Prof. Barnes instructs you to sit across from him at his desk while he gets everything ready. The office is filled with books and papers, organized in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, but you can imagine it’s perfect for Prof. Barnes. Your eyes trail over the spines of the books, and you notice that not all are law books, but many of them are classics. 

“So, here’s your last exam,” he says, pulling your attention back to him. Prof. Barnes has laid out your scantron page as well as the exam itself, and has your grades pulled up on his computer. “You did very well, which I’m not surprised by, and the questions you did get wrong, the whole class struggled with.” Your mind short-circuits as he speaks. He’s paid enough attention to you not to be surprised by your good grade? The class itself isn’t very big, all things considered, but there are 50 students, and this isn’t the only class he teaches.

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” you reply shyly, surprised that that’s what you called him. You’ve never addressed him that way, but you love how it felt. The corner of his mouth tips up into an almost smile as he suppresses a slight shiver.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he adds, flipping through the exam booklet. You quirk an eyebrow, silently asking him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. He finds the first question you got wrong. “So here’s what you said,” he points to your answer on the scantron. “What do you think the right answer is?”

His bright blue eyes watch you as you think, tracing over your features like he’s trying to analyze you. You try not to shrink under his gaze.

“Differential association?” You suggest, not entirely sure of the response, but the way Prof. Barnes’ eyes light up tells you you’re right.

“Correct,” he says, marking down your answer on a new sheet of paper. “Good girl.” The words slip out, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear them, but you did, and they go straight to your lower belly, lighting a spark. Prof. Barnes doesn’t acknowledge what he’s said, opting to continue through the other questions you missed. 

Each time you answer a question correctly, he smiles a little more, and looks a little more pleased. But all you can focus on is how he called you ‘good girl’. It echoes through your head, making your heart beat faster and heat lick in your belly. 

As you answer the last question, Prof. Barnes’ tongue traces over his lower lip. Your eyes track the movement, and you suck in a breath. He nods, indicating your answer is correct and clasps his hands on the desk.

“You’re more than ready for the exam,” he tells you, keeping eye contact. “You need to give yourself more credit, and trust that you know the answer. You’re smart. Trust your gut, okay?” You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

“Thank you, Sir,” you say, voice breathy. Alarm bells go off in your head that you’ve definitely alerted Prof. Barnes to the state that you’re in, but honestly, you don’t care. You’re sure women throw themselves at him constantly, probably even some students. He’s handsome in that classic way, strong features and bright eyes. He knows he’s attractive; he knows people want him.

He’s close enough that if you leaned in a bit, you could kiss him. You’re desperate to know what his lips would feel like against yours, what he’d taste like. Would he hold your face to lead the kiss? Would his fingers tangle in your hair?

Even though you don’t want to, you stand and gather your things. As you walk toward the door, you hear Prof. Barnes approach. He reaches the door before you and stands in front of it, blocking your exit.

He opens his mouth but closes it immediately like he isn’t sure what to say. His eyebrows furrow, and he takes a deep breath. “You liked it,” he states, as if that’s enough information for you to go off of. When you don’t respond, he continues. “You liked when you called me ‘sir’ and when I said you were a good girl.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he fists his hands like he’s holding himself back from something. 

Your lips fall open, stunned at his observation. The way he’s speaking to you now makes the coil in your belly tighten, thinking about how he’d called you a good girl only fueling the feeling.

“You’re easy to read,” he continues. “You always stay after class to ask me questions. You come to my office hours when we both know damn well you don’t need the help. You bit your lip when you called me ‘sir’. You shivered when I called you ‘good girl’.” Your breathing has sped up, causing your chest to heave.

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure you’d know how to speak even if you had the words.

“You thought I wouldn't figure it out, didn’t you, sweetheart?” He steps toward you, grips your jacket, which you’ve been clutching to your chest this whole time, and tugs it from your arms. “You thought I hadn’t seen you, that I hadn’t noticed you.”

You nod as he closes the distance between you. His smell invades your nostrils, making you feel dizzy.

“Well, I noticed, sweetheart.” Prof. Barnes places his hands on the sides of your jaw, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. He’s giving you time to pull away, giving you an out. But you don’t want it. You rest your hands in the bend of his arms and nod, giving him the permission he needs.

Prof. Barnes leans in and kisses you, pressing his lips gently to yours. He tilts your head slightly like you imagined he would, but you could never have imagined how soft his lips are. How good it feels to have his breath wash over your cheek. He tastes like coffee and something sweet, something distinctly him. He pulls you closer, removing the small space between your bodies, leaving you pressed against his chest. Prof. Barnes’ left hand leaves your face, shifting to cup the side of your neck before sliding down your back. It settles on your lower back, pressing you into him even more. 

You whimper into the kiss at the feeling of him, of being so close, and he takes the opportunity to nip at your bottom lip. When he pulls away, you’re breathless. “You taste so sweet,” he muses, a smile growing on his face. “Just like I knew you would.”

For the next two weeks, Professor Barnes cancels class. Even when he’s busy with a case, he never cancels; he just switches the class to online. You can’t help but feel like it’s because of you. Because of the kiss. 

The kiss.

It plays on repeat in your head; it follows you into your dreams. How his lips molded to yours and his hands held your head, how they pressed you into him. It was all so perfect; it felt so right. But maybe it didn’t feel that way for Prof. Barnes. After he’d kissed you, you’d stayed for a little longer, wrapped up in him, but he got a call and had to leave right after. He’d kissed you on the way out, saying he’d see you soon, but you haven’t. 

You were supposed to have Prof. Barnes’ class today. It was supposed to be a review day for the exam next class, but again, class is canceled. Once you finish your morning classes, you have no reason to stay on campus, so you start walking back to your apartment. Your phone buzzes, and when you pull it out, you find another text from your roommate begging you to go out tonight. You’ve been trying to get out of it, but you’re in the mood for a distraction, so you give in.

Later that night, you find yourself at one of the bars near campus. It’s not as packed as you thought, so you go to the bar and almost immediately get the bartender’s attention. He leans over the bar to hear you better, but you don’t miss the way his eyes roam over your figure before reaching your eyes again.

“What can I getcha?” He asks, giving you a smile. You rattle off your order and something for your roommate and make pleasant, if not flirtatious, conversation with the bartender. He’s cute but not really your type. Your type these days has been older, broodier, more intense…

You need to stop thinking about Professor Barnes. You need to get him out of your system.

The bartender, whose name you’ve learned is Troy, sets your drinks down in front of you with a wink, and you smile in return, sliding the cash over to him. Your roommate grabs her drink quickly before running off to say hi to one of her other friends, leaving you at the bar alone. You turn around to find somewhere a little less crowded when you feel someone’s eyes on you. 

It takes you a second, but your gaze connects with two familiar bright blue eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. 

Bucky

She saw me. 

I watch as the bartender gets her attention again, and though I can’t hear what they’re saying, I see her smile at him. I clench my teeth at the sight. The bartender slides something across the bar to her, and she looks surprised but accepts it, tucking it into the back pocket of her tight jeans.

She looks incredible tonight in her fitted shirt and those jeans that make her ass look perfect. The bartender gets pulled away to do his job, and I watch as the woman that has occupied my thoughts for so long turns back around and finds me in the crowd.

She is like a ray of fucking sunshine, so bright in my life, and as she walks toward me slowly, I can practically feel her warmth already. She approaches me tentatively like she’s worried I’ll disappear the moment she gets close enough to touch.

“Professor Barnes,” she whispers, but I hear her despite the noise of the crowd. It’s pathetic, the way my cock hardens just at her voice, but she has me wrapped around her little finger, whether she realizes it or not. 

“Sweetheart,” I reply. I don’t miss the way she shivers, the way heat flares in her eyes. 

“Where’ve you been?” She asks, fiddling with the straw in her drink. She’s avoiding eye contact, but I want to see her beautiful eyes. I stand, towering over her, and that gets her attention. She tilts her head up, and I have to stifle a groan at the sight of her looking up at me with those doe eyes.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” She nods just a little as if her head did it without her mind’s consent. I let my fingers trail up her bare arm, her skin soft against my calloused hand, until my hand cups her jaw. She leans into my touch, and I brush my thumb over her cheek.

I lean in, getting close enough that her shaking breaths fan over my face, and whisper, “I missed you too.” She tilts her head to try and kiss me, but I hold her face still. We’re in a bar on campus full of students. I can’t risk us being seen like this. Even touching her is dangerous.

“Oh.” She sounds defeated, and my chest squeezes. I’m not rejecting her. Quite the opposite, actually.

“The things I want to do to you, sweetheart,” I tell her, leaning my forehead against hers. “I cannot do in this bar.” Her breath stutters and her eyes glaze over with need. She quickly downs her drink and finds her roommate to tell her she’s leaving. When she returns to me, her nerves and excitement pour from her, and I feel myself beginning to smile. 

“Where are we going?” She asks, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. I tangle my fingers with her and tug her toward the door. My car is parked a block away. I didn’t drink. I didn’t come here to drink, so I’m good to drive.

The drive to my place is only about 10 minutes, but it feels like hours. I grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles go pale. I’m desperate to taste her again, to feel her writhing against me. I’d wanted to take her right then and there in my office, but it was too risky. I’m so close to having her after waiting for what’s felt like forever.

We pull into the driveway of my house, and I watch her take a deep breath. I can tell she’s nervous, but I also see the way she’s watching my every move, the way she so clearly wants me.

I shut the front door behind her, and I’m on her. I press her back against the door and kiss her. She tastes so fucking good, so soft and sweet against my lips. She grips my jacket as my fingers tangle in her hair. My tongue swipes across the seam of her lips, and she opens for me with a moan.

“You’re so sweet, baby,” I whisper against her lips. She shudders, arching against me. My cock is hard in my jeans, and I grind against her to show her just how much she affects me. I kiss her again, drinking in the way she reacts to every touch.

“Please,” she moans. I pull back slightly and take in the way her face is twisted in pleasure. 

“Please, what, sweetheart?” She furrows her brows in frustration, and I can’t help but smirk as she does it. She’s so worked up, but I want her begging.

She pants for a moment before finding her words. “I just need you,” she whispers. “Please, Sir, I need you so bad.” Her voice comes out a needy whine, and the way she calls me sir nearly sends me over the edge.

“Good girl.” I press a bruising kiss to her again before I pick her up princess-style. I walk her up the stairs to my bedroom and toss her on my bed. I can’t believe I haven’t done this sooner, that I tried to deny myself the pleasure of seeing her on my bed, panting and wanting. 

I shrug off my jacket and toss it aside before approaching the bed. She looks up at me with big doe eyes, those eyes that watch me every time we’re in class, the ones that I’ve seen in my dreams. I lean over the bed and grab her ankles, tugging her until her legs hang over the edge.

She watches my hands as I run my hands up her legs, appreciating every beautiful curve of her body. My fingers tease the skin above her waistband. I move to unbutton her jeans, waiting for her to tell me to go on, and once she nods, I peel them off her.

I am breathless, utterly hypnotized by her as I kneel at the foot of the bed. Her panties are simple, lacy and black, and when I run my thumb up and down over her pussy, she lets out the most beautiful moan. 

“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” I ask, rubbing a circle over her clit. She shakes her head, fisting the sheets. “Since the day I saw you, I’ve wanted you. Every time you came to my office, I wanted to kick everyone out and put you over my desk. I’ve wanted to keep you after class every day, have you moaning my name so loud it would echo in the lecture hall.”

When she lets out a strangled moan, I pull her panties down and revel in how gorgeous and wet she is. I tuck her panties into my pocket and run my hands over her bare skin. She shivers and tries to pull her legs together, but I don’t let her. 

“I’ve wanted to taste you since I saw you. You gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” I ask, adding a teasing tone to my voice. 

“Please,” she begs. “Please, Sir.” I grin at her pussy and dive in. The second my tongue swipes over her pussy she arches, her fingers digging into my hair. She lets out a string of expletives as I suck her clit and explore her perfect cunt. 

She tastes so much better than I ever could have imagined, and I know I’ll be addicted to this forever. She is so responsive, so sensitive to every swipe of my tongue, and all it does is make me work harder for her. I graze my teeth over her clit, and she jolts but pulls my hair more, guiding me to exactly where she wants me.

I work her up more and more until I feel her trembling beneath me. “You wanna come, sweetheart?” I ask, sliding a finger into her pussy. She’s hot and tight around my finger, and I feel her clench around it.

“Yes, please,” she replies, voice breathy from the pleasure. I click my tongue in mock-disappointment. I nip at her inner thigh, soothing the bite with a kiss.

“Please, who? Who’s making you feel good? Who’s gonna make you come?” She squirms a little and tries to get me to keep eating her out, but I don’t give in, no matter how much I want to keep tasting her.

“Please, Sir,” she amends. “You’re making me feel so good, please, Sir. I need you so bad.”

“Such a good girl,” I groan. I double my efforts on her clit and slide a second finger inside her, hitting a spot that makes her twitch.

Her legs tighten around my head as she comes, and it takes everything in me to not come right along with her. I ease up when I notice her getting too sensitive and kiss my way up her body. 

“You’re perfect,” I tell her, sucking a mark on her neck. She helps me pull her shirt and bra off before she starts working my shirt off as well. A moment later, we’re both naked, and I love the way her eyes trace over every inch of me. 

She pulls me in for another kiss, and I lean on my forearms, keeping myself hovering just over her.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she tells me between kisses. “Wanted you for so long.” I grin into the kiss, then pull away to dig through my bedside table for a condom. She watches with hooded, lust-filled eyes.

“This okay?” I ask, rolling the condom onto myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone how I want her. 

She nods enthusiastically. “Please, Sir, please fuck me.” My head lulls back at her words.

I line myself up with her pussy and push in just a little, watching her face contort. Inch by inch, I sink inside her wet heat, and once I’m fully inside her, I let out a low moan. I give her a moment to adjust before I pull out and slam back in.

I know I should be gentle, that I should warm her up to this, but I can’t. There will be time for gentleness, and now’s not that time. I set a brutal, deep pace, and she takes it like the good girl she is.

Her fingers scrape down my back as she urges me on, legs wrapping around me to keep me close. I knew she’d be able to take it. I knew she’d be good for me. I tell her over and over how perfect she feels, how good she’s taking me, and every word of praise makes her squeeze tighter around me.

“Oh my god, I’m so close,” she moans. 

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my dick.” I keep doing what I know she likes and watch as she falls apart beneath me. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than this. Than her. Once she comes down from her high, I switch our position. I turn her over and hike her ass up, keeping her head low on the mattress. My mouth waters as I press into her again. Her jaw drops open, and her eyes squeeze shut, and I start fucking her again.

Each sound she makes goes straight to my cock. Every moan, every whimper, brings me closer to the edge. I grip her hips hard, but I don’t care if I’m leaving marks. I want her to see them, to run her fingers over them as she thinks about the way I made her come on my cock. 

My hips start to stutter, my thrust getting sloppy as I get closer and closer to coming. I wish I could fill her up and see my cum drip out of her, but I know we’re not there yet. I haul her chest up, pressing her back to my front, and snake my hands around her. One of my hands cups her neck, not choking her but gripping it, and the other teases her breast. My fingers tweak her nipple, and she jolts in my hold.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” I ask, punctuating my words with deeper thrusts. She moans but doesn’t answer. “Answer me, sweetheart,” I say, practically scolding her.

“Fuck, I love it so much, Sir.” Her voice is strung out with pleasure. The hand that has been playing with her breasts falls to her pussy, and I tease her clit, pulling another orgasm out of her. She’s so loud when she comes, and it pulls me over with her.

I come hard, my vision blacking out on the edges, and we collapse together on the bed. 

We watch each other as we come down from our highs. She smiles sheepishly at me, and I kiss away any doubts that might be clouding her mind right now. “That was perfect,” I tell her, kissing her nose. 

“Thank you, Sir,” she replies. I pull her close to me, wrapping her in my arms. 

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” I remind her. She tilts her head up to keep eye contact, and I love the light that shines in her beautiful eyes.

“What should I call you then?”

“Bucky.” She smiles at the nickname my friend gave me when we were younger.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” She giggles as I kiss her, and I lock that sound away, keeping it somewhere I’ll never lose it.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

please message me to be added to a taglist! must be 18+

Everything tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @chibijusstuff @midnightramyeoncravings

All Bucky taglist: @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiii @urmom4130

@buckyb-stan

[sharkian-fics]

snippet 👁️👁️

Had to frantically finish a scene that wasn't spoilery for later on in the fic. And then wait a few hours because classes...Anyway here, the very start of the fic!

The first time Hotguy actually sees Cuteguy in person and not just on TV, he’s distracted just long enough for the villain he’s fighting to get a good hit in.

It sends him reeling for a bit, but luckily he’s able to recover quickly and get back into the battle. Except now there’s someone new in the fray, and Hotguy makes sure to keep an eye out for him.

In the end, Cuteguy doesn’t stick around long. He grins at Hotguy with a quick “See you later, old guy.” And then he’s gone.

It’s not the only time he sees him. After that first time, he shows up almost every time Hotguy goes on patrol, and not just when he’s in the middle of a battle. Often, Hotguy is perched near the top of a building and looking around for trouble when Cuteguy appears seemingly out of nowhere.

When that happens and it’s just the two of them, Hotguy starts to sweat a bit. He tries not to stare, but Cuteguy’s outfit is -- distracting. It’s a clear imitation of his own, except it’s red and pink instead of his orange and blue. A lot of pink. It’s mostly pink, really. And a lot of his arms are often showing, and he can sort of peek down his chest, and -- 

It’s a lot. He understands why his alias is “Cuteguy.”

He tries not to look directly at him, at least unless he’s talking to him. And they do often talk. It starts with Hotguy telling him to go home, that it’s too dangerous for someone like him to be out here. He’s got it covered.

Which is another thing. He doesn’t know exactly how old Cuteguy is, but it’s obvious he’s much younger than Hotguy. Certainly too young to be out this late at night, he’s probably got classes the next day.

Then again, Hotguy supposes he isn’t much better in that regard. He may not be a student, hasn’t been one for a long time, but he is a professor. Which often means early mornings for him as he goes over the material for the classes he has to teach later in the day. Staying up late as Hotguy definitely doesn’t help with that, but it’s something he’s expected to do now. And he enjoys it, that’s for sure. It gets a little lonely, though.

Which is where he gets the idea to have Cuteguy as his sidekick.

He knows Cuteguy won’t stop, he’s tried telling him it’s too dangerous. But Cuteguy is stubborn and he’d insisted that he can handle it. 

So knowing that he won’t quit, Hotguy comes up with a different plan. He figures that with Cuteguy as his sidekick, he’ll be able to keep an eye on him. Of course, he doesn’t tell him that’s the reason. He just goes on about how he’s impressed with his skill level and thinks they could do more good together, officially as a team.

Cuteguy agrees enthusiastically, and he finds himself relaxing a little. Hopefully he’ll be able to protect him, keep him out of too much trouble.

[luca-is-a-pengu]

i wanted to add my 5 cents to the lilo and stitch au

inspired by @cicadaart

reference:

[hwaslayer]

thinking about releasing another series alongside of wildfire ..

[pprodsuga]

whatever u say professor sim

[feddy-34]

mechanical engineering professor max who teaches thermo and puts geography questions for extra credit on his exams

[scionshtola]

For the creative brainworms that won't morph into gpose or fic, this is your invitation to just ramble about any creative idea that you have rn! I'm suffering from the same Affliction TM so I wanna offer some help lmao

ty nero! i hope we can both overcome our Affliction soon 😭

i've been going back and forth in my brain between a couple things. one is affair au which i've talked about too much for what little i have written aklsdjfsd and the other is the TA romance AU, a modern AU where shtola is a young university professor and cori becomes her TA. and. there's romance lmao. i started writing it a bit the other day because i have in my mind like a montage of scenes from the semester where cori is shtola's student and their building friendship/dynamic that leads to shtola asking cori to be her TA/cori offering to be it. but the sentences were not flowing and for some reason in my mind i have to do that before i can start writing any other scenes from it even though that really doesn't make any sense LMAO

also still want to write the corishtola first kiss and i think i might try to gpose it today and see if that sparks anything lol

[daxwritesstories]

College AU Part 11: Bed Enemy

Content warning: victim-blaming, rape culture

Scene 1: Boy Like You

(Scene title by Kesha)

INT. Hallway - Morning

Cyra is sitting on a bench, alone. She is fiddling with her phone, flipping it around in her hand. She looks upset.

Leon turns the corner and notices Cyra sitting there.

LEON: Yo, Cyra!

Cyra looks up and smiles when she sees Leon walking up to her.

CYRA: Hi Leon! Whatcha doing in the music hallway?

LEON: Could ask you the same thing.

Leon stops in front of Cyra.

LEON: Jayce tells me you're a theater major.

Cyra smiles.

CYRA: He left out the fact that I'm minoring in voice. But I'm here because I'm waiting for someone.

LEON: Who?

CYRA: A music prof. I need his help with something.

LEON: I see... So, did Jayce ever text you back?

CYRA: Nope.

LEON: Oof. Sucks, man.

CYRA: Yeah. Well, I guess I kind of deserve it. I'm sure he told you that I didn't treat him very well.

LEON: Actually he kind of just avoids talking about you.

CYRA: Oh. Huh. I wonder if he's embarrassed...

LEON: What?

Cyra smiles.

CYRA: Don't worry about it. How old are you?

Leon is a bit surprised by the fast change of subject, but he doesn't mention it.

LEON: Uh... I'm 21.

CYRA: Really? But you look so young.

Cyra speaks in a teasing tone. Leon laughs.

LEON: Why? How old are you?

CYRA: I'm 18.

LEON: Oh! Wow.

CYRA: I know. I act like I'm older. Did you know that Jayce is still 17?

LEON: No, but I guessed he was pretty young.

CYRA: His birthday isn't until January. He's a baby.

Leon laughs.

LEON: You know a lot about him.

CYRA: I know everything about him. Tell me more about you though.

LEON: Mm... Like what?

CYRA: Are you straight?

LEON: Um, I'm not sure. I like girls, if that's what you're asking. What about you?

CYRA: I like everything and everyone. I especially like boys like you though.

Leon is a little taken aback by Cyra's forwardness. He gives her a confused look.

LEON: Uh...

Leon laughs nervously.

LEON: What do you mean by that?

CYRA: Well, let's see...

Cyra stands up and steps right into Leon's personal space. She holds her hand flat in front of her forehead and slowly moves it to Leon's.

CYRA: You're about the same height as me, so that's good. This is only our second time meeting but you've been wearing hoodies both times. Which is cute as fuck.

Leon laughs again.

LEON: Well, hoodies are comfy.

Cyra responds in a dumbed-down tone, as if she were speaking to a child.

CYRA: I know right?

Cyra giggles at Leon, who is clearly caught off guard by her sudden change in tone. Not wanting to scare him, Cyra goes back to her usual voice.

CYRA: What else? You have a pretty small frame. Lemme see.

Cyra grabs Leon by the waist and pushes him so he has to take a step back to brace himself.

CYRA: Whoa! What are you, like, ninety pounds?

LEON: Uh...

Cyra pushes Leon back a few more steps, walking him towards the wall.

CYRA: I can just push you around so easily. Damn...

Cyra finally backs Leon up against the wall. He doesn't protest but he looks a bit scared. Cyra looks him up and down. She brings her hands up to his face and affectionately strokes his cheeks and neck with her thumbs.

CYRA: Hm... Pretty eyes. Cute hair; could be a bit longer though.

Leon laughs.

LEON: It used to be a lot longer, you know.

Cyra goes back to her dumbed-down voice.

CYRA: Is that so? I'd love to see it like that.

Leon quiets down again when her tone changes. Cyra lets one of her hands fall to Leon's hip and she pins him against the wall. Her other hand slides to the back of Leon's head.

Cyra grabs some of his hair and pulls down. Leon's head falls back with almost no resistance. Cyra giggles.

CYRA: You probably shouldn't just let people pull your hair like that.

The door to the nearby classroom opens and Roman walks out, followed by a single student. Roman notices Cyra right away but he stays quiet and watches her. The student with him makes a judgmental face and quickly leaves. Leon hasn't noticed either of them, his eyes closed.

Cyra keeps Leon's head tilted back and presses her body against his. She leans in close to his ear.

CYRA (whispering): Unless... you like it when I do that.

Leon shivers. The moment doesn't last long though. Cyra takes a step back but doesn't let go of Leon's hair.

CYRA: Why don't you mind your own business, Roman?

ROMAN: Well, Ace did tell me to keep an eye on you.

CYRA: I doubt that's what he meant.

Cyra lets go of Leon, who brushes himself off. He looks a little disoriented but he's still smiling to himself.

CYRA: But anyway, I think you get what I'm trying to say, right?

LEON: Uh, yeah. I got it.

CYRA: Good! Um, I have to go now. But you can come find me again if you want.

Leon laughs.

LEON: Sure.

Cyra hurries over to where Roman is standing and the two walk down the hall together. Cyra looks back and waves at Leon again though.

Scene 2: Freaking Out

(Scene title by Mystery Skulls)

INT. Lounge area - Morning

Celia, Halo, and Vir are all sitting on the couches together.

HALO: You don't need to worry about this, Celia.

CELIA: But I feel so bad.

VIR: Cyra already told you that it's okay. She wouldn't lie about that kind of thing.

HALO: Yeah, and she knows that you didn't know.

VIR: It's all that guy's fault anyway. He tricked you.

CELIA: I should have known something was off though. I was so distracted by the way he looked and sounded that I just ignored it.

Halo holds both of Celia's hands.

HALO: That's not true. If you knew then you wouldn't have done it. I know that, Celia. You're not like that.

Celia looks unsure of what Halo is saying.

VIR: Cyra doesn't want you to feel bad about this.

CELIA: I know...

Celia's head and shoulders slump forward in shame. Vir and Halo exchange worried glances.

Scene 3: Bad Enemy

(Scene title by Invertigo)

INT. Roman's office - Morning

Roman and Cyra walk into the office together. Roman shuts the door behind them and then goes to sit in his chair. Cyra sits down in the chair across the desk.

ROMAN: Okay. What do you want?

CYRA: I need to get back at Ace.

Roman laughs.

ROMAN: And why the fuck would I help you with that?

CYRA: Because you just stood there and watched while Ace beat the shit out of me!

ROMAN: Yeah, and I had a great time doing it.

Cyra glares at Roman.

ROMAN: I don't know why you expected me to save you. I mean, you didn't even try to fight back. What did you think was gonna happen?

CYRA: I thought we were friends!

ROMAN: In that case, I've been giving you the wrong impression. My bad.

CYRA: What the fuck are you talking about?

ROMAN: You shouldn't be messing with guys like us. Didn't your mother teach you that older men are dangerous?

Cyra folds her arms.

CYRA: You're not that much older than me...

ROMAN: Seventeen years, Cyra! I'm seventeen years older than you! That's almost twice your age! Ace is fourteen years older than you! Did you really expect him to be nice to you after you tried screwing up his relationship? He already warned you to leave him alone.

CYRA: You're one to talk! You took advantage of me when I asked you for his phone number!

ROMAN: Exactly! And I'd do it again. Do you get it now? You keep putting yourself in dangerous situations because of this stupid crush you have on Ace.

CYRA: You can't just do shit like that. You're gonna get caught and you'll lose your job!

ROMAN: Maybe so. But I can keep doing shit like that to you, can't I?

Cyra gives Roman a confused look.

CYRA: What?

Roman pushes the phone and receiver on his desk over to Cyra's side.

ROMAN: Call head office right now and tell them what I did to you. The number's on the receiver.

Cyra goes quiet and she stares down at the phone. After a long moment, she sighs and glares daggers at Roman.

Roman rolls his eyes and pulls the receiver back to where it was before.

ROMAN: I knew you wouldn't do it. You wanna know how I knew?

Cyra just keeps glaring at Roman, seething with anger.

ROMAN: Because you lied to everyone after Ace gave you that black eye. You even could have pinned the blame on me since it happened in here, but you didn't. And you didn't tell anyone, not even me, that Ace almost choked you out in his dorm. So, either you like being treated like this, or you've just gone so fucking crazy over Ace that you won't tell anyone about what he or his friends do to you.

Cyra's glare disappears. Her expression is now a mixture of anger and fear. Her gaze falls to the side as she contemplates what just happened.

ROMAN: You played all your cards too early, Cyra. You might be fucked now.

CYRA: Don't act like you fucking feel sorry for me.

ROMAN: I don't. I'm just trying to give you advice. Walk away right now and forget that you ever met Ace. It's for your own good. You're never gonna get what you want from him anyway.

Cyra frowns again and stands up. She slams her palms down on Roman's desk.

CYRA: Fuck. You.

Cyra turns around and stomps toward the door.

ROMAN: Yeah, yeah. You'll be back soon.

Cyra scowls and slams the door behind her.

Scene 4: I Don't Wanna Be In Love

(Scene title by Good Charlotte)

INT. Arabella & Celeste's dorm - Night

Arabella is standing in front of the dresser, changing into pajamas. Just as she takes off her shirt, the door opens and Celeste walks in.

ARABELLA: Back so soon?

CELESTE: Class ended early.

Celeste shuts the door behind her and starts taking off her coat. Arabella just watches her, not bothering to put on a shirt.

CELESTE: You're friends with Cyra, right?

ARABELLA: I am.

CELESTE: I ran into her the other day. In the library.

Arabella looks surprised and intrigued.

ARABELLA: Oh. How did that go?

CELESTE: Terribly. She really thinks that saying sorry will just fix everything.

Celeste hangs up her coat

ARABELLA: Well... what else do you want her to do?

CELESTE: I want her to prove that she's sorry. But she's gone on to hurt even more people after I left her. How can one claim they are remorseful when they just continue to do the same thing over and over again?

ARABELLA: You have a point. Cyra's commitment skills are garbage.

CELESTE: Exactly. And she wonders why I hate her so much.

Arabella looks Celeste up and down.

ARABELLA: Holding onto hate isn't good for you.

CELESTE: What else am I supposed to do?

ARABELLA: Move on. Do it for your own sake. Fuck what Cyra thinks.

CELESTE: My heart has been shattered. I can't just put the pieces back together.

Arabella giggles.

CELESTE: What?

ARABELLA: You're just cute when you get all poetic like that.

Celeste looks genuinely surprised.

CELESTE: I– I'm– I'm not–

ARABELLA: Yes you are. And you're gorgeous and smart and you deserve better than to spend the rest of your life brooding over a girl who doesn't love you.

Celeste closes her mouth, eyes wide with shock.

ARABELLA: Just something to think about.

Arabella turns around, looking through the dresser for a shirt to wear. There is a long moment of silence before Celeste speaks again.

CELESTE: How could you think so highly of me?

Arabella doesn't even look up when she responds.

ARABELLA: How could you not think that highly of yourself?

Celeste goes quiet again and stares off into space, thinking.

Scene 5: True Friends

(Scene title by Bring Me The Horizons)

INT. Cyra & Celia's dorm - Night

Celia is lying on her bed with headphones on, listening to music. She stares up at the ceiling. She still looks upset.

The door opens and Cyra walks into the room. Celia looks at her but doesn't say anything, too nervous.

Cyra sets her bag on the floor. Without hesitation, she climbs on top of Celia and sits on her hips. Celia takes her headphones off. Before Celia can speak though, Cyra plants her hands on either side of her shoulders, looming over her.

CYRA: Please don't be mad at yourself.

Celia sighs.

CELIA: It's kind of hard not to...

CYRA: I know. I understand why you're upset. But I need you to trust me when I say that I'm okay.

CELIA: Are you sure? You were so angry yesterday.

CYRA: I was. I know I yelled really loud and I know I punched the wall. I was really pissed off. I wasn't mad at you though. I'm still not mad at you.

Celia glances to the side, her expression sad and conflicted.

CYRA: Celia. You can't blame yourself for what Ace did.

Celia looks back up at Cyra.

CELIA: I shouldn't have let him...

CYRA: But you couldn't resist him, right?

Celia's eyes widen in shock and Cyra smiles at her.

CYRA: I understand how alluring he can be, trust me. I probably understand that better than any of our friends do. If I was in your position I would've done the exact same thing. So how could I ever be mad at you for that?

That makes Celia relax a little. She stares up at Cyra with a pouty expression.

CYRA: Can I see you smile?

Celia playfully shakes her head and covers her face with her arms. Cyra immediately grabs Celia's wrist and pulls them away from her head, pinning them to the bed.

CYRA: Let me see you smile, babygirl.

Cyra grins at Celia, who squeezes her lips together as she suppresses a smile.

CYRA: No?

Celia shakes her head.

Cyra smirks and suddenly lets go of Celia's wrists and sits back up. She lifts Celia's shirt and starts tickling her tummy. Celia squirms and laughs.

CYRA: There's the smile!

CELIA (giggling): Not fair!

Cyra stops tickling Celia and lovingly stares at her instead. Celia stops laughing when she notices Cyra staring at her.

CELIA: What?

Without saying anything, Cyra leans down and kisses Celia. It starts as a regular kiss but quickly turns into making out.

[2dayihaveaheadache]

New Obikin snippet. A tiny scene from College/University AU, in which bookish lit professor Kenobi met Anakin (who is a total Twink and with that absolutely Obi-Wan's type) at a bar. Just as the sun raises, Obi-Wan flees out of guilt (catholic guilt, let's hope he was nice enough to leave a note) and now is faced with his growing affection for the infatuating young man (or more so a looming sexual crisis)

I do find it hard to realize my true potential And without the right credentials I am lost

A new attraction meant a possible new love and that could only lead to a new heartbreak, sighed Obi-Wan, dwelling on memories of last night’s Twink. 

A knock echoed through his office and tore Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. Office hours, he reminded himself with a smile, grateful for the distraction. The door was opened and a girl entered with confident steps. She was tall for her age, over 5’8. Her bleached hair was braided and formed into two horns on her head – a fashion statement, Obi-Wan guessed. Alternative or Punk or whatever the teens liked nowadays and could combine with Dr. Martens and an excessive amount of black. As an Add-on a couple of the strands had been colored blue to give her some kind of two-tone look. “Ahsoka Tano, my dear.”, he greeted her, smiling with gritted teeth. “How may I help you?”

She was a party beast, known for her excessive drinking and her disaster-attracting behavior. A can of black spray paint was her best friend and together they decorated the walls on Campus with political statements on regular bases. “Fuck the system” or “The system failed us.” seemed to be her favorite ones. Some weeks ago, she had trashed University property with a baseball bat – God knows, where she got it from, probably her brother, he guessed, another nightmarish creature of GenZ – but most importantly she belonged to the 48 students in Obi-Wan’s creative writing course. So, whatever she wanted was now his problem. At least she did not count to the “I-Want-to-kriff-my-father-and-have-no-problem-with-It” Students. Another group of students of his, who paved the way for sleepless nights with their writing – why did father issues need to be romanticized by Pop Culture again? 

“Good afternoon, Professor Kenobi”, she greeted and bowed her head down a bit. Untypical for her usual unruly self, he noted. She fidgeted with her fingers and looked down 0at her black-painted nails as if she was nervous and bottling up something, planning something nefarious in her demonic mind of teenage madness. “I wanted to speak to you as the dean of the English faculty.”, she explained, averting his gaze. 

He raised an eyebrow and took another sip from his tea cup, no need to lose his mind – yet. He wasn’t going to let himself be lured to become some kind of pawn for her weird games. He was not going to let his helpfulness be exploited. “What can I do for you, Ms. Tano? Is this about your exam?”

“No-“, she tried to say but he had already interrupted her and continued talking. Better to keep her distracted before she can open any sort of box of Pandora in his office, he has to clean up behind her. 1“I haven’t corrected them yet so I can assure you I haven’t found anything troubling. I hoped I have stressed that enough in your course, creative writing is a process that unveils us and leaves us vulnerable. Nothing to be ashamed of. I as the supervisor, have no right to play judge of your content, it is more the mistake you make in the way of telling it- ” 

Her bright laughter interrupted his speech and she cringed in her seat as if he had just told her that he believes in extraterrestrials, that are cosplaying as cats on earth. Now that he has the thought - “Sorry, Professor Kenobi, nice words, but we all know that you and your colleague play bingo with our texts.” 

“I don’t know what you are-“, he tried, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses, straightening his back and brushing off the dust of his jacket, realizing how ridiculous he must look – or more how ridiculous he behaves, dancing around his student as if she is a ticking time bomb. 

“It’s been leaked years ago, no need to play it down, and posted all over the internet.”, Ahsoka laughed and the timidness from before disappeared from her expression. She pulled out her phone and tipped something into the search bar, the black-painted nails clicking against the screen. “Have you never wondered why your rating on ‘Professor 101’ is so catastrophically low?” 

“I just assumed, that it was a natural consequence of my teaching style and the ideals, I project onto my students. A study of the portrayal of the hero figure in 18th-century French literature is not for everybody and therefore I cannot expect maximum grade from all of you.” 

“Here.”, she commented and offered Obi-Wan a look at her phone screen. Twitter was opened and a Tweet with an attached photo could be read. It was by a user named ‘Rex_the_tryannosaurusRex’. What a reliable source, he mocked in his mind, why do I even try to teach them anything? before he looked at the image more precisely. Shame flooded his system. It was an obvious bingo grit sketched lazily onto a sticky note and a high score was marked under it. Nearly all squares in the grit were underlined. That year he had won with everything he had noted down, his high score. 

“Someone has to provide the material to make bets on and who would be better than the supervisor of the creative writing course?”

“Ms. Skywalker, what you are stating is an accusation that should not be made lightly.”, he tried to sound serious – but how can he with cheeks as red as a lobster? 

“Relax, professor.”, she smiled and put the phone back into her leather jacket, which looked awfully familiar to Obi-Wan but he did not dare to think the threat to an end. Wasn’t it the one that he had sneaked his fingers under it to feel the muscled back of –

”Our college is a bit messed up. The lectures are wild, so are our professors and so are we students. In fact, we actually make bets on your bingo game too.” 

“Ahsoka Tano Skywalker, this is-“

“For years I have been betting on you on your victory streak, Professor Kenobi. Your gameplay is easy to analyze and if you ask me, pretty predictable but who cares if this provides me with 8 free beers each semester.”, she continued and ignored him completely. 

“Please-“ 

 “Winning is a simple task to accomplish if somebody would just follow your rules. Make a vertical row with the father issue, at least one spelling mistake in the word abrupt, everybody seems to change the b and p at least once, and ‘end’ written in capital letters at the end of the essay. Bingo, you win!”, she cheered. 

That was a bitter pill to swallow, Obi-Wan told himself and tried to calm down his quickened breathing. The entire student body seemed to have officially lost their mind and loved to drag their professor into their misery. Though examining Ahsoka Tano Skywalker and her cheeky grin, which could only be a portrayal of madness, she seemed to be completely fine with it. She showed symptoms of hysteria and still was caught in her haze of teenage craziness. How has it come that the world did evolve into this?

“You cannot have possibly come to my office hours to humiliate me, Ms. Tano.”, Obi-Wan stated and felt anger coloring his voice, which he tried to suppress by taking another sip from his teacup, the china shaking dangerously. He set it down again with all the grace, that he could manage, and took a long deep breath, just as Qui-Gon explained in his stupid yoga sessions. 

“To be honest, I have come exactly for that. I wanted to humiliate you though not for the silly bingo game.”, she grinned and then added,” This is a little joke between you and me.” 

“What ridiculous other thing have I committed that makes me worthy of your mockery in your opinion?”

The absolute sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life flashed on her face and she asked in an innocent voice of a little girl, “How does it feel like to have fucked my brother?”

... that's the scene. Hope you enjoy!

[ovrarches]

ykw… rivals/enemies to lovers in college (undergrad) AUs are unrealistic like it should really be academia AUs instead. 20yos getting C’s to graduate are never going to get that riled up over school but 30yo nerds who’ve dedicated their lives to a super specific moderately useless field of study?? Absolutely

phd students and highschoolers are the only ones passionate enough to have academic rivalries. and I don’t want to read about highschoolers so

[midmare]

what if,,, i had a modern/university au?

[sharkian-fics]

Wrote down a little outline of all the scenes for the prof/student vigilante au and. Guys I fear this fic may break 10k.

There's so many scenes...One of them is done and it's almost 2k. There's still like 10 more to go. Oh boy.

This does mean this fic will probably take a While to actually be finished...But, y'know, if anyone wants to send some asks about it, I'd be happy to talk about it and maybe even share a snippet or two...

[varley-of-torment]

what would it take for Jeritza to defect to the Kingdom/Lions in the professor mercedes & student jeritza au? Also I know you're a Dimilix fan, but have you considered Dimitza? They're both freakishly strong blond lancers with a dark side caused by trauma, and I think their interactions would be extremely interesting.

To the first question: I think it would just be a matter of he and Mercedes finding out who the other is. Assuming Jeritza doesn't recognize her at first, once they figure it out, I'm sure he'd much rather be on the side of his sister.

Jeritza has no reason to stay with the empire once he's given a better option (he doesn't share their motives and is only with them as a result of a string of shenanigans). I headcanon that Hubert has some kind of leverage over him to keep him in check, but even that shows his relationship with them is one of control rather than loyalty.

And even if he's hesitant to switch sides because of how deep he's in it, we all know how protective Mercedes is of her little brother. If he told her "well, I have a... job... that makes it hard to have control over my life" Mercie would just go "then quit your job! I'll help you draft a resignation letter :)"

To the second question: That's a good point! They are really similar (like literally "Same hat!") and their interactions would be interesting, but I think they might be too similar for them to be together as a couple, but on the other hand- and if they were students at the same time- they could both use another awkward traumatized bi guy to understand what they're going through.

(also Jeritza as a parallel to Dimitri is interesting because it of how Edelgard exploits Jeritza's mental illness for her benefit, which I think colors how she would hypothetically think of Dimitri's mental illness. But idk)