professor | r. lupin

❘༻Train Treat༺❘

A student shouldn't be thinking about a professor this way and this much. No, a student shouldn't be thinking about a professor at all. But what if he was the one to start it all? Why would it be the student's fault if the professor was the one who made a move? The winter break seemed to last longer than it was supposed to. The girl couldn't wait to come back to Hogwarts. Fantasies about him weren't enough. She needed to see him. Just the thought of him made all those images and feelings from the detention come back. Her thighs squeezed as she held a book in front of her face, hiding the blush and big pupils from her friends.

She remembered the way he approached her, offering a different kind of a detention. He asked first, of course. He didn't force her. He made sure she knew that she could say no whenever she wanted and leave the classroom. But she didn't say no. Instead, she melted into his arms as he placed her on top of the desk, looking into her eyes for a moment before kissing her. His lips moved so sensually against hers, making her whimper into his mouth and squeeze his shoulders for support. He made her weak. He didn't dare to touch her more unless she wanted to. Professor Lupin had many fantasies about her, but above all that, he wanted to make her feel safe and to let her know that she has choices. He wasn't the type of a man to force a lady into anything, especially something sexual. The whole detention passed by with slow kissing, hair gripping and light touches on her thighs and sides. He didn't go further than that. She was so lost in the way he moved that once he pulled away, she whimpered and frowned, earning a chuckle from him. Remus loved the sight of her red swollen lips, pink puffy cheeks and messy hair. She was breathing heavily, her hands still on his shoulders. He had left her breathless.

Thinking about all of that made her unconsciously squeeze her thighs even more, the space between her legs searching for release. She was stuck on the same page over thirty minutes now, her eyes not moving from one sentence. She didn't even realise that her mouth was slightly open and dry as she imagined his tongue working against hers. The train stopped abruptly, making all of the students in the compartment jump from their seats a bit. Once they landed back, all of them looked outside of the window. The snow had covered up the trails. The girl had bigger problems than snow. She had fire between her legs and waiting until they arrive at the castle wasn't an option. She excused herself, then stood up and fixed her skirt. She could feel how wet she was as she walked down the train, searching for a toilet. The feeling of her fingers down there wasn't foreign to her, but ever since she got a taste of her professor, she wished he could replace those fingers. The train started moving again, making the girl stumble backwards. She reached for the nearby compartment door, trying to steady herself. Instead of a cold wood, she grabbed a warm hand. Once the train started moving with it's previous speed, she fixed her posture and turned around, letting go of the hand. Her eyes met very familiar brown clothes and a scarred face. The eyes behind the soft hair looked at her just like they did back in the classroom. She gulped, then smiled at her professor.

"Good morning, professor." She greeted, fixing her hair so that it covered her pink cheeks.

"Indeed, it is a good morning. Where are you headed to, Miss?"

His raspy voice sent shivers down her spine. He sounded similar when they were done making out. As much as he loved the sigh of her, she loved the sight of him even more: swollen wet lips, his tongue licking those lips and his messy hair. After moments of silence, the man looked around, then back at the student in front of him. He was alone in the compartment, which allowed him to lay down and fantasise about her. He had memorized every sound she made, every move she made and every breath she took. He was obsessed with her. He hoped she felt the same. He hoped she didn't feel forced to do this with him. Merlin, he would be a terrible man if he made her feel that way.

"Professor," she called with a quiet voice, stepping closer to him. His hand was still on the wooden frame, his eyes looking down at the girl with curiosity. She looked rather frustrated and very pink. Her fingers played with the skirt hem, revealing her knee high socks. He was weak for those on her. If she wasn't over eighteen, he wouldn't have even looked at her. Yet he still felt a bit bad. She was so much younger than he was. Right as he wanted to let her go back to her plan, she cupped his face and placed her lips on his. The sweet cherry taste brought him back to the classroom and his fingers squeezed the door frame until his knuckles turned white. All he wanted to do was to grab her waist and push her inside the compartment. He decided against it. He let her be in control. He wanted to see what she wanted.