#solo snape

[marvel-snape-writes]

hii i found your work recently and i love it so much!! would you be interested in continuing the storyline of the solo snape one-shot and writing one about him and the mirror of erised?

Infatuated Reflections Plagued By Self-loathing

Severus Snape x 🤫female character🤫/The Mirror of Erised

5.7k+ words

18+ solo smut 🤭

Thank you to the person who requested this! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope that the rollercoaster of emotions does your request the justice it deserves! 😊🫶

You’d have thought that for someone who was so often described as ‘an overgrown bat’ that nightfall would have been his favourite time of day, but not for Severus Snape. In reality, he hated when the day was over, the marking was done, and he had no other vices to drown out his own thoughts. The tossing and turning in his bed was often as a result of this. Though, albeit more often than he’d like to admit, he would sometimes think about how it must feel to spend the night with someone, rather than by himself. Not even necessarily for any fooling around, more for the company. Someone to hold, perhaps, or even someone to be held by. He knew he would be far too nervous, far too out of his depth, even, in order to hint at anything more. But just to have someone to carry him through the loneliness, that he couldn't deny he had wished for now and then.

Right now, he was sat at his desk and still trying to find different ways in which to procrastinate making the journey from his armchair to his bed. He couldn't put his finger on why, but tonight he felt a mixture of loneliness and a slight twinge of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps the company he was longing for tonight was something more along the lines of affection than just another body to lay to the side of in silence. His chin rested on the palm of his hand with his elbow bent on the table as he pondered into the gentle flicker of his desk candle how exactly could he get what he so craved whilst avoiding the embarrassment of speaking or bumping into a single person. He concluded only one answer: taking a visit to The Mirror of Erised.

‘Don’t be so absurd’, was the first internal voice of response. He stared down at the neatly stacked pieces of paper upon his desk and let out a deep sigh through his hooked nose. ‘You want company, you do not wish to be a burden, you do not wish for embarrassment. It is the only way’, a different voice then continued as his lip twitched, ‘Go’.

“Can I bring the mirror back to bed with me?” He asked out loud into the silence, his mind tampering with the slightly seducing reflections he may see in the mirror if it really did show the depths his desires would go on rare occasions.

There were few things he hated more than feeling like this. Very rarely he would let himself to give in to his own desires. Very rarely he would allow himself to even entertain the idea. On the rare occasion he did, it would be over in a flash; whether that be because of the self-loathed feeling of embarrassment he would bring upon himself for letting it come to that point where he had no choice except to chase his own release, or whether it was because the times between allowing pleasure into his life were so far apart that once he started, it only took a few minor strokes to reach his craved result; the hot, sticky blobs landing upon him almost as white as his own skin.

He could feel the frustration beginning to grow. It bubbled from the pit of his stomach and sent tingles down his thighs, clenching his fists a few times whilst swallowing hard. The times where he craved company that went further than just to have another person’s presence with him were what he’d fear the most. Not knowing how long it was going to last or how he would deal with it. Whether he would dare to allow himself to go through with the inevitable when it got too painful to even sleep. The feeling, the urges would come in waves. To him, they were more likened to waves of nausea — or should he say, they were about just as unwelcome as feeling nauseous. However, the way that one would ‘feel better’ after having thrown up after a long time of feeling sick, this was the same way he felt after he had given in to his own desires; not happy necessarily, certainly not proud, maybe a little relieved, but mostly just glad it was over.

Begrudgingly, he stood up from his armchair and brushed his hands down the front of his buttoned pyjama shirt. He pushed his chair back into his desk and glanced around the room to try and decide what would result in less speculation or questions if he were to be caught walking the corridors after hours. He was comfortable in his black bedclothes, but he definitely didn't have the confidence to be walking down the halls in them. His go-to solution was to grab his cloak and wrap it around his shoulders — and as much of his body as possible without looking completely ridiculous.

He stood by his chamber door for a few moments, one hand fixed on the handle and one pushing through his hair as he had a few last minute hesitations about going to find The Mirror of Erised. What would someone say if they saw him? What story would he make up? What if someone was in front of the mirror already? The thoughts took over his mind for several moments and he sighed deeply, taking one glance back at his empty bed before making the final decision to go ahead with the plan to at least attempt to fill his loneliness.

Thankfully, the corridors were quiet, or quiet enough at least to be able to hear if anyone else was coming in any other direction. Knowing exactly what to do and where to go in order to find The Mirror of Erised irritated him a little as he was hoping by the time it was in view, his desires may have calmed. They hadn’t.

As he saw the mirror in the distance, he pondered for a short while if this would be worth it at all. Would it make him feel even worse if he couldn't even converse with whatever would be standing in front of him? He stepped closer to it. What if he could cast a spell and make it talk? Or would that make it even worse?

He grumbled to himself as he approached the mirror and stood at the side of it, still in absolute disbelief that he had allowed himself to come this far. He pulled his cloak around him a little bit tighter as if for some sort of comfort — for the first time in a long time he actually felt a bit nervous. As he side stepped a little closer to the mirror, still not yet in front of it, he thought of all the possibilities that could be reflected; Which would it choose? Out of all the things in Severus Snape’s ‘ideal world’, which, in this exact moment in time, would The Mirror of Erised select as his most his desired?

He felt his heart race at the thought of the several possible outcomes and was unable to even move his feet, almost as if they had been glued to the floor. Often coming across as being so sure of himself and his actions, he was not familiar with this sudden anxiety surrounding the idea of standing in front of a mirror. He knew deep down it was because he was afraid of seeing for himself what it was that he really wanted, because if he could see it, then he knew it was real, and delving into his own thoughts and feelings and putting himself and his own desires first was something he hadn't done for years.

He took a deep breath and lifted one of his feet in order to step in front of the mirror before stopping himself in the process as he had a sudden thought; what if he were to cast the potential ‘talking’ spell on the mirror before standing in front of it? That way, if he didn't like what he saw, he could at least threaten whoever was on the other side with something if they didn't promise to keep tonight and his helplessness a secret.

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and gestured it toward the mirror, muttering the first thing that came into his head. He lowered his arm and placed his wand back into his pocket, waiting a few moments in complete silence. The breath he drew this time was even deeper than the one before, genuinely afraid of what he may discover next. His heart thumping in his chest and his hands growing sweaty, he took his first step in front of the mirror. Afraid to look at the image in front of him, his eyes instinctively closed once he was in line with it.

Just open them, Severus. Whatever you see, it is not real, he told himself, already embarrassed with how pathetic he felt. He calmed his breathing and swallowed hard, opening his eyes with a slight squint at first before opening them fully. To his surprise — or relief — there wasn't anything in the reflection of the mirror other than darkness. He couldn't even see himself. Not that he and his self-loathing was upset about it. He let out a shaky breath and stared directly at it, trying his best to focus on if there was anything he was missing. He arched a brow and sighed in defeat.

You can’t even stare into a mirror right, he grumbled inside his head, pulling his cloak around him tightly again and turning away from the mirror. He began to walk back to the door and pressed his lips together hard, unsure of if he was more angry or disappointed in himself. Even the mirror didn't have anything to offer him. Only seeing his own reflection? He knew there was a reason why he had never used the mirror for himself. What could a cold, reserved man possibly desire?

Already dreading who he would potentially bump into down the corridors back to his chamber, he placed his hand on the handle of the door to leave the room. The mirror was facing away from him now, his back toward the room, and he couldn't wait to pretend he had never even tried to communicate with it. He twisted the handle and began to pull it open, scowling to himself until he heard a voice from behind him speak into the empty room, “Severus, wait…”

The gentle voice shook him to his core, placing his free hand flat upon the wall at the side of the doorframe to try and steady himself. For a moment he convinced himself that he had imagined it, but the same gentle tone called for him again. His lips parted and he felt a shiver run down his spine, his fingertips now turning white from how hard they were pressed against the wall. His heart rate intensified wildly as he turned around and began walking back toward the mirror.

Once again, he approached the front of it with his eyes closed, still not fully convinced that his spell had worked. Had he made the mirror say what he craved most rather than showing him? Gradually, he opened his eyes again to find his answer. His head was dipped when his eyes opened fully, seeing only dainty feet. It was as his eyes trailed further up herbody that he felt himself dizzy with impossibility. Whether the reflection could speak to him or not, he found himself absolutely speechless. His eyes welled as he felt genuine emotion surge through his body for the first time in longer than he could even remember.

“I- It can’t be…” His voice trembled, bringing one of his hands to his mouth and speaking into it, “C-Can’t…”

His head shook as his eyes met the reflection in the mirror. Instead of seeing himself with what he apparently most desired, he only saw her alone. But that was enough. If he had seen himself with her after all these years, he was convinced he would've collapsed in an instant. She looked older, though she still had all the same familiarities he was so used to gazing upon in his youth. Still convinced that he was seeing things, he took a step closer. The slim figure in the mirror moved with him, shocking him to the point of stumbling backward a little and struggling to keep his balance. He desperately reached to a nearby table to try and stabilise himself, feeling himself growing more and more lightheaded by the second.

“Just take a breath,” She said, her eyes following him from the mirror, “Compose yourself,” The softness of her voice made him tingle, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You’re not here,” He shook his head manically, covering his face with his hands as he leant back against the table, “You are not here.”

“Look at me and tell me I’m not, Severus.” She replied.

Severus slowly lowered his hands from his face again and tried not to act so startled this time when he was met with her reflection yet again. He swallowed hard and exhaled deeply. She was every bit of stunning that he remembered. Even more so, actually. Now she looked a similar age to him, he could begin to imagine what life would have been like — could have been like. But that thought made his eyes well even more.

“How are you, Severus?” She asked in a gentle tone.

“Oh, that used to be such a simple question to answer…” Severus laughed weakly, his hands trembling madly as he dared to look her reflection in the eyes again.

“Well, you’re here,” She shrugged, “Living, breathing—”

“Barely,” Severus swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’d say more just existing.”

“Oh, Severus…” It was only two words but the way she said it earned a singular tear to run down his cheek. The caring, tender tone made him feel as if she had reached out her hand caressed it. He looked up at her reflection helplessly, catching his lip between his teeth when it began to quiver.

“I can't…” He inhaled shakily, “B—Believe it…”

His chest physically pained from what was in front of him, still only half believing it was true.

“What is it?” She asked, narrowing her eyebrows empathetically and speaking again when Severus failed to do so, “I cannot leave if I am what you desire the most. That's the rules. The mirror can't lie.”

Severus nodded uneasily, mumbling under his breath, “I do not deserve to desire,” He shrugged simply, “Wherever you are, I just hope you’re happy,” He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, “Whatever that means.”

“You deserve more than anyone to desire, Severus,” She smiled softly, “A man who has prevented himself from such feelings for so long.”

Severus’ lip twitched, now staring at his feet.

“It is only natural to—”

“Be weak and give in to it?” Severus asked, arching a brow.

“Do not think of it as giving in, think more that you are allowing yourself to feel.” She smiled kindly.

Severus felt himself go strangely numb and electric at the same time. His breathing became jittery and he was struggling to try and figure out what exactly it was that she meant. It wasn't that he didn't feel anything, it was more that he felt everything all at once; shock, sadness, happiness, helpless, regret, heartbreak, loneliness, that so-called desire she spoke of, aroused, even, and when he raised his head to look at her again, justified for all of the above.

“I won't tell if you don't, Severus.” She whispered.

“I-I’m sorry?” Severus widened his eyes.

Before he knew it, his mouth was as wide as his eyes. He watched in awe as she began to undress in front of him in the mirror, half not thinking he was worthy to witness such beauty, half being in so much awe he was unable to bring his eyes away. She stopped once she got to her underwear and left those items of clothing on, looking back into his eyes now. Severus’ eyes quickly diverted, however, now shyly looking at the floor

“For heavens sake, just do what every fibre of your being is telling you to,” She stood now with her hand on her hip, “Take a look.”

Severus’ breathing grew heavier, afraid of what would become of him if he looked at her properly.

“For me?” She bit her lip.

He took a shaky breath and lifted his head, “I…” He swallowed hard.

“Deserve to stop putting off your own desires?” She finished for him.

“I haven't had single desire in my life since the day you...” He began to admit, though couldn't finish the sentence, so only exhaled a sad sigh.

“That is absurd, Severus.” She shook her head.

“I have been afraid to open myself and love again because I fear the loss of it,” He forced himself to look into her eyes, “Because of the loss I felt when I lost you.” His voice was shaky, unsure of whether he felt more or less pathetic admitting this to a reflection in a mirror rather than an actual human being.

“We cannot never love again in fear of loss, Severus,” She frowned, “Otherwise we would never love again.”

“That is the point.” His words were spoken with a slightly sharper tongue this time, “In reality, your death barely happens to you at all, it happens to your friends and family. They’re the ones who feel it. They're the ones who have to deal with it. Day in, day out. Nothing but pain and sadness, nothing but—”

“Severus, Severus!” She butted in, in an attempt to stop him digging himself a deeper hole, “I am here right now, aren't I? The one thing you desire the most? The one telling you that it is okay to have desires and lust. It is completely natural to have a burning want for something and go ahead and allow yourself to feel it,” Their eyes met in the mirror again, “Why is it yourself that you are so unforgiving?”

“Why do you insist on staying and breaking my heart?” He spoke with the most pained expression on his face.

“This is me telling you that it is okay. What is it that you want from me, permission to give in to what you crave the most?” She asked.

“Yes!” Severus practically pleaded, his eyes burning with threat of bursting into tears.

HERE

He watched as the image in the mirror reached behind, unclasping her bra and dropping it carelessly to the floor whilst not even breaking eye contact for a moment, “Is that enough?”

Severus’ body shivered from head to toe at the image before him. His eyes twitched. His lips twitched. His cock twitched. He swore he could even hear his heartbeat. Even though she wasn't real, even though she was just a reflection, the effect she was having upon him that once felt like a sin now felt so natural. It was as if her permission had allowed him to feel this way. As if that was all he ever needed in order to allow himself pleasure in anything after her death.

“Fuck…” He muttered under his breath as cock stirred in his underwear, unable to tear his eyes off the image in front of him. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over his crotch and inhaled sharply when he felt the obvious bump.

“Too scared to see the damage, Severus?” She taunted him through the mirror.

“You—”

“And don't even think about blaming me,” She snapped quickly, “This is all inside your head, not mine.”

Severus’ lips pressed together — he was far too aroused at this point to argue. Even if it would be arguing with a reflection in a mirror. He felt like he was having an out-of-body-experience. His palm brushed back and forth over the bump in the front of his pyjama bottoms and he swallowed hard, feeling the temperature in his body rise. The instinct to chase his arousal had hit him like a ton of bricks; he wanted it, needed it, and had been instructed to do so by the only person who could command him to do anything.

“Is this you giving in to your desires, Severus?” She asked, biting her lip from the view.

“Giving in to you,” He inhaled shakily, “Always giving in to you.”

“Show me.” She whispered.

Severus felt a shiver all the way down to the tip of his cock from her tone of voice and pushed his hand into the front of his pyjamas, then boxers. He could feel himself throb from the simple motion of just brushing his fingertips over the bare skin. For the first time in a long time, he showed barely any hesitation as he wrapped his hand around his cock completely, gently giving himself some slow strokes as his body adjusted to this rare form of pleasure.

“Y…” He squeaked as he watched her topless reflection, “You…”

“Feast upon the image to your hearts content, Severus,” She pressed her hands against the sides of her breasts and pushed them together, “If my permission is what it took to allow a little only natural pleasure into your life, it’s all yours.”

“All… mine…” He breathed out, the thought alone making his body ache with want. His wrist also ached from the restriction his clothing was giving him as he continued to stroke his length up and down.

“Do you like the thought of that?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Fuck, yes.” He nodded quickly.

“I told you to show me.” Her eyes gestured to his hand moving back and forth in the front of his pants.

Severus inhaled sharply, his eyes remaining completely fixated to hers as he pushed down the front of his pyjama pants and boxers. He moaned quietly at the new freedom of his wrist, but it still wasn't enough. He pushed the waistband of both items of clothing down so that they were set below his hips, allowing his pulsating length and aching balls to be completely free and on show. His mouth continued to gape as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing himself gently before starting to stroke it up and down again, bringing himself even closer to the mirror.

“That’s it, Severus,” The reflection cooed, “Chase that feeling you've been denying yourself for all this time.”

He reached out a shaky hand and placed it against the boarder of the mirror, helping steady himself as he stood with parted legs. His fist slid up and down with ease, perhaps a little bit too much ease, but this situation was playing with his head in more ways than one. Usually, on the scarce occasions he found himself with his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes would be closed in order to flood his head with images that would get him off the fastest, but now his eyes remained open. Those images were right in front of him. His eyes took their time in tracing every detail of her bare body, the only item left upon her being her bottom underwear. The fact that is was exactly how he had imagined her to be, exactly what he dreamed to have and hold each night he closed his eyes; beautifully aged, just how he always pictured she would be. His eyes settling upon her breasts earned a particular throb from his cock, urging him to speed his hand up. Her eyes followed his and he let out several soft whimpers, his lips still parted as precum leaked into his fist, making the movements even slicker. He was completely and utterly mesmerised by her reflection.

He wanted to reach out and touch her. Every inch of her, skin on skin. He craved it. He had never seen such beauty like this so close. Sure, he had dreamed of growing old with her and being able to hold her at every stage of aging life, but he never thought he would get this close. So close, but yet so far. So out of reach, but such a stunning reflection before him. It was like turning torture into art.

“Agh, shit…” He grunted when he purposely brushed his hand under the head of his cock with a little more pressure a couple of times. He rolled onto his tiptoes and felt his entire body shudder in pleasure.

“Are you sure you want to chase the ending that fast, Severus?” Asked the mirror.

“Wh-Wha…” His heavy gaze lifted to hers.

“You don't want it to be over so quickly, do you?” She spoke softly, “Not after how long you've just gone without it,” Her eyes glanced down to his pumping fist for a brief moment, “Savour it.”

One hand stayed against the boarder around the mirror and the other remained around his cock, breathing heavily as his movements slowed down. Instead, he tapped his fingertip against the tip of his length and inhaled shakily when he saw the string of precum attached between them. He whimpered manically as he spread the stickiness around the head of his cock and narrowed his eyebrows, pressing his lips firmly together to try and not make a sound. After a few moments, he wrapped his fist a little looser around himself and parted his legs slightly more. He let go and glanced down at his stubborn arousal, lightly tracing a sticky finger back and forth over the prominent vein bulging against his skin.

“Oh, oh, ohhh…” He hissed through clenched teeth, but he couldn't take it for long; before he knew it, his fist was back around him fully again, though loose enough still to allow swift movements.

“Are you going to fuck your hand and pretend it's mine?” The reflection asked, biting her lip as her eyes fell to his hand again, “Pretend it's me?”

His free hand now lay flat against the border of the mirror and he took a deep, shaky breath. His eyes met with hers and he began to slowly move his hips back and forth, thrusting into his open fist. He shuddered in pleasure and dared himself to tighten his fist and his mouth fell open, moaning “fuck” every few seconds. His hand moved from pressing against the border of the mirror to gripping onto it and grunting every time he bucked his hips, his fingertips now turning white and slightly painful from how desperately he was holding onto it.

“Mmmhh…” He groaned lowly, feeling himself pulsate madly in his grip.

“You’re being so good to yourself, Severus,” Her reflection purred, “Does it feel nice to allow yourself to give in to your desires?”

Severus couldn't even fathom a verbal response. His jerking wrist was now working in time with his hips, his lips pressed firmly together to try and not allow any louder moans to pass through them. His fist twisted and moved in perfect rhythm, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was doing it without guilt. His eyes which would usually be squeezed shut to try and block out the shame were — albeit heavy — wide open and burning into hers. There wasn't a thing that could stop him at this point, not even the fact that he hadn't locked the door. He was so focused on chasing his release at this point, he couldn't even spare himself a moment to reach for his wand and cast a spell to lock it, either.

“Ugh, fuck, I…” He inhaled sharply, “I-I’m so close…” His breathing became even more jittery, “S…”

“Are you going to cum, Severus?” Her reflection asked, biting her lip.

“Y—Yes… yes!” He whined helplessly, his fist firing relentlessly up and down his entire length.

“Are you going to cum for me, Severus?” Her voice was the most seductive thing he had ever heard.

His thighs tensed and the flickering sparks in the pit of his stomach grew into embers and began to rise higher and higher, earning a jolt of his hips into his hand. He quickly removed his hand from the mirror and placed it just beneath the tip of his length, his jaw tensing and toes curled, suddenly feeling the pleasure of a thousand summer days spent with her hit him all at once in some form of sticky euphoria as his climax began to land upon his cupped hand. He felt dizzy with pleasure and had no choice other than to place his hand back against the border of the mirror again to steady himself whilst his other hand was far too busy pumping up and down his length — the orgasm of which was now spraying against the mirror itself.

“Oh, g—good, god!” Severus’ voice was practically strangled, the veins in his neck almost popping out as his head swung back in ecstasy, “Fuck! Mmmh!” His fist continued to pump recklessly up and down his length and his eyes rolled back, string after string of its effect continuing to land upon the mirror. His wrist ached but the movements continued, grunting breathlessly as he refused to stop.

“Severus, Severus,” She whispered softly as his head remained tilted back, “Say my name…” She spoke in a firm but gentle voice.

Severus regained the strength to lift his head again and opened his eyes, twitching cock still in hand and feeling his heart skip a beat once their eyes met again. He swallowed hard and panted heavily, paying no mind to the mess he had made upon the mirror now trailing down the surface of it. The relief he felt was like something he had barely ever experienced. Euphoric, guilt free relief.

“Say it.” She whispered again, smiling sweetly.

Severus licked his lips shakily, his eyes flickering to the reflection of her lips in the mirror and leaned forward. He pursed his lips and allowed his eyes to fall shut as they pressed upon the mirror itself whilst whispering, “Lilly.”

He placed his hand flat upon the mirror at the side of his head in some hope of being able to feel her. His lips remained pressed against the mirror in some hope he would be able to taste her. He couldn't. It was just cold. Numb. And when he pulled back to gaze upon Lilly’s reflection in the mirror once more, so was his heart. She was gone.

He felt like his heart had been completely torn out of his chest. His eyes welled with tears; frustration, heartbreak, shock and sadness all mixed into one. His hand pressed against the mirror again as if hers would be there to touch it on the other side. Still nothing.

“N—No… no.” His lip quivered, desperately trying to think of any way to bring her back to him again, “Tell me it wasn't real…” He inhaled shakily, “Tell me I just imagined it…” His burning, tear filled eyes stared back at only his own reflection, “No, no, no!” His self-loathing surging through his veins like never before, “My heart is already breaking, why don't you just twist the fucking knife?!”

He felt beyond overwhelmed with emotion, as if he was about to hyperventilate as he panted. In a moment of both weakness and madness, his fist pounded against the mirror a couple of times, though only for want to hurt himself rather than the reflection of her that once stood there. The room was silent despite his sobs. He forced his red eyes open and parted his trembling lips, shaking his head as he stared helplessly into the mirror whilst whimpering.

“I just…” He inhaled deeply, pleading loud in his voice now, “I just cannot face myself alone again.”

He turned himself around and leant back against the mirror, sliding down it with the hope of landing and sleeping in herembrace at last. He buried his face in his hands and continued to bawl, tears now seeping through his fingers and trailing down his wrists. Anyone who walked past the room would think that something was dying inside, but to Severus it felt as if something already had; a wound that had already been far from healed ripped wide open again and stinging him all the more this time in the process. He felt what it was like to have her there with him and then lose her right in front of him all over again.

‘Why had she gone? This wasn't how the mirror worked.’, were the words whizzing around his head. He hated that he had come to this conclusion, but he saw no other way; deep down, he would never want her to see him like this; miserable, embarrassed, alone. His desire was for her to tell him that giving in to what he desired most was okay, and she did that. She saw him with his lustful, loyal eyes. She saw him allowing himself to feel pleasure after all these years of avoiding it, feeling unworthy. He didn't desire for her to see how he really felt now that she was gone and the years since. She really only ever got the better version of him, and even subconsciously he made sure of that.

He had never really known love until it came to him in the form of her, and he felt as if his heart was no longer needed ever since she was no longer here. He knew even if he did allow himself to feel for someone who wasn't her, she would always be the constant in his life — regardless of whether she was living, a reflection, or not here at all. She lived so deeply in his heart she was almost like a dagger; if removed, he would die. The promise he made because of her kept him alive. Though far gone from this world, she kept him alive.

“Lilly…” He finally removed his hands and rubbed his puffy eyes, sniffling, “Oh, my sweet Lilly,” He swallowed the lump in his throat, wiping under his eyes, “Don't leave me in charge of my own heart. It only knows you.”

He heard the rain hit against the window and took a deep breath. Even the sky was crying, mourning with him all over again. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The infatuated reflections plagued by self-loathing, the once guilt-free pleasure that he felt only a few moments ago was gone, just like her, and only left him wondering how it was possible for something so beautiful to cause him such pain.

---

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know your thoughts 🫢😁♥️

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[sneverussape]

for @crocky-wock and @wanderusprince who wanted to see teenage choir boy severus and the malfoys being able to watch him by accident :) i’m so sorry it’s so sketchy but my life has been so busyyyy

bonus: sev getting ready

[afirewiel]

And of course, please reblog to get a better sample size.

[crucifiedfaerie]

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 !

𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔦 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ! 𝔦𝔣 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔦 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔢𝔱, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫 . 𝔦𝔣 𝔞 𝔣𝔦𝔠 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 .

˗ˏˋ 𝖘 𝖙 𝖆 𝖗 𝖜 𝖆 𝖗 𝖘 ˎˊ˗

— kylo ren / ben solo ╰┈➤ gibson girl ; Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 ╰┈➤ sparring sessions ; Pt. 1 ╰┈➤ nsfw alphabet | sfw alphabet

╰┈➤ growing pains ; Pt. 1

╰┈➤ nicotine stains ; Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

╰┈➤ gods & monsters — anakin skywalker — din djarin

˗ˏˋ 𝖙 𝖍 𝖊 𝖇 𝖆 𝖙 𝖒 𝖆 𝖓 ˎˊ˗

— the riddler / edward nashton

˗ˏˋ 𝖘 𝖙 𝖗 𝖆 𝖓 𝖌 𝖊 𝖗 𝖙 𝖍 𝖎 𝖓 𝖌 𝖘 ˎˊ˗

— eddie munson — johnathan byers — steve harrington

˗ˏˋ 𝖙 𝖍 𝖊 𝖑 𝖆 𝖘 𝖙 𝖔 𝖋 𝖚 𝖘 ˎˊ˗

— joel miller

˗ˏˋ 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖗 𝖞 𝖕 𝖔 𝖙 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗 ˎˊ˗

— severus snape — remus lupin — sirius black

˗ˏˋ 𝖒 𝖎 𝖉 𝖓 𝖎 𝖌 𝖍 𝖙 𝖒 𝖆 𝖘 𝖘 ˎˊ˗

— father paul hill

[kikaaauu]

—The unbelievable amount of stress and pressure that Severus Snape was under for years. No one else could never.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Maya was clear that she saw Liam's abuse as a result of distress that ran deep and his coping strategies with that distress. So if I talk about Liam it will be in those terms. ///

In her book she said some of the distress arouse from the contrast between his career and Harry's and the poor reception of LP1. I remember the same Guardian critic Laura Snape was very cruel about LP1 (awful 1* review) and very nice about Fine Line which was released a week later.

I just think the whole solo fandom thing is fucking toxic. The fans, the media, the industry ... all pitting them against each other and the same person coming out on top year after year.

Oh anon - I know fandom is notorious for blaming women for the actions of men - but responding 'Laura Snapes wrote a negative review of Liam's work' in response to a description of Liam's abuse - is taking fucked up fandom to another level.

But far more importantly - the way you present mental distress here You focus on the fact that Liam is being compared to other people and the fact that in this comparison external validation is not being distributed equally. Suggesting that if only external validation was distributed equally - if he got enough of it - Liam would not be experiencing this distress - is a model of mental distress that sets you up for failure.

(And of all the forms of external validation to suggest should be distributed equally - using reviews as your main example is completely absurd. People respond to art in all sorts of ways - which will always be complicated. When you put something out into the world you are taking a huge risk - including that people won't like it. But I'm mostly leaving that alone and are going to pretend to focus on a form of external validation where some form of equity of distribution would be reasonable)

External validation can be nice (although it can also be complicated), but it will not and cannot address the fractures in our psyches. There is all the evidence in the world (including within 1D) that external validation is not a solution to mental distress.

We need some kind of recognition - we need to do things people value and we need to be seen. We don't need, and can't all have, the extraordinary recognition that you describe as Harry coming up on top. Stadium tours, awards, even someone with authority engaging with and appreciating something we've created - those only go to some people - and they never have been distributed fairly and never will be.

Our mental distress lies to us - it sends us in completely the wrong way to try and fix it. Chasing after external validation as a way of trying to eliminate mental distress is a fools errand. Short term distress around rejection, or not getting something we want, or failure - is really normal. Learning to sit with that distress and get through it rather than running in all sorts of directions is a skill that it's possible to strengthen (one of the most important changes of my adult life has been experiencing applying to jobs as something that felt unbearable distressing, to something that was possible, with a significant toll).

Of course Liam experiences some distress at career difficulties - we all would. That's not what his ex-girlfriend wrote a book about. Liam responded to his distress by being cruel and abusive to people around him (particularly his ex) and seeking relief in substances that had a history of making him more abusive - in this condition he chased his girlfriend with an axe.

Our brains are lying to us. It's really common to feel distress and think 'I must do X then I will be valid and not feel distress'. That's a trap that will only keep people on a hamster wheel of distress - chasing relief that will not come. Even if you do achieve X it will not be enough - your brain will give you another goal. I think it can be useful to think of eating disorders here - the idea that being thin enough will cure someone's eating disorder will strike a lot (not enough) people as obviously illogical. The same is true for Liam and success (or Harry and success for that matter) and for so many people in different ways - if we chase things because we feel like we're not good enough - then getting those things are unlikely to make us feel good enough.

There is an alternative (although it is not to listen to that voice, and build our ability to tolerate our distress, manage triggers, and eventually heal some of the wounds that made our distress so strong in the first place.

[ferociouscharm]

light skinned masc character: has neck length dark hair and is a massive tool the internet: sexy daddee/evil babee

[silverdoe]

watching a video essay on snapewives and it has just struck me right now how shocking it is that kylo ren fangirls haven't created a microcosm (to not say cult) a la snapewives of their own, like, you would think...

[serenaew]

Fest Submission: Remedial Venom / Nocturne for flute solo

-- Fic and filk drop --

My more-than-16-minutes-long flute solo piece, created for @snapebang, is here!!!!

A full set of contents, consisting of:

Audio and cover art: AO3 | archive.org | cover art reveal on tumblr

Sheet music: archive.org

Meta: AO3 (4k words of meta, I kid you not)

Inspiration playlist: AO3 | Spotify

Spectrogram art: AO3

For EtherealTrail's Snapebang fic

Remedial Venom (AO3 | Wattpad)

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Severus Snape/Reader, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Severus Snape, You, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Erotica, Blood Play, Heartbeat Kink, Vampire Sex, Vampire Snape, Dark Magic, Romanticism, Good Severus Snape, Sex Magic, Dark Arts, Heavy BDSM, Professor-Student Relationship, Victorian Attitudes, victorian au, Romance, Dark Academia, Aftercare, Possessive Snape, Loss of Virginity, Fluff, Cover Art, Severus Snape Big Bang 2023

Summary:

A short tale of a budding anesthesiology-magic student surrendering herself to her darkest, most taboo desires in Victorian Scotland. He tried to warn you. Yet when you slipped, so did your professor. You both fell into the realm of pain, pleasure, and what it truly means to love. To speak the language of the heartbeat.

Enjoy the fruits of our hard labour!

[midgardianqueenreturns]

Maybe this is an oversimplification, I don’t want to generalize, and I really dislike “people only dislike this character because x” type of takes, but I have to say, I don’t think it’s totally a coincidence Snape and Kylo Ren look so alike and inspire very similar levels of widespread vile hatred and moral outrage from their respective fandoms. Obviously it’s not a total overlap as I’ve seen plenty of Kylo stans who are anti Snape and vice-versa, but still. I can’t help but wonder if them having very similar appearances that aren’t conventionally handsome plays a role in why their antis are so excessively hostile and unhinged in their hatred for them. Again, this is probably an oversimplification and generalization (and I don’t want to suggest *everyone* who hates Snape and/or Kylo only does so beccause of their looks), but I can’t help but notice this connection.

[rmblythe7]

Can’t I just have a dark cloak wearing, broody, silently sexy, loner with amazing hair without having to question whether or not he’s evil? IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK

I may have a type. I also may have a problem.

[marvel-snape-writes]

Hi!! Could you maybe do a one shot of snape wanting to ask his partner to have sex but is too nervous, so after his partner falls asleep he goes into the living room and jerks off? But this time his partner woke up halfway through his little session and finally gave him what he desired

For You To Beg

Snape x original female character

18+ smut and solo smut

5.3k+ words

This has to be one of my favourite requests ever and I had a load of fun writing it! Whoever you are, thank you and I hope you enjoy it! 🫶🫶🫶

It was their closeness that aroused him the most. The intimate, quiet, subtle moments that they shared. Gentle hands caressing, light kisses; lips against skin, tauntingly over clothes, lips against lips. The small noises of delight they would make whilst doing any of this. She loved how his hand would delicately brush against her cheek while they kissed, and he loved how she would reward him with a kiss back each time.

“I hate how early we have to be up tomorrow.” She sighed, lazily kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I know,” Severus pouted his lips, reaching an arm out to tuck her hair behind her ear, “But…”

“But?” She arched a brow, remaining leant up on her elbow as she gazed down at him on the bed.

“The night is still young.” Severus spoke softly, though with a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Mhmm…” She absentmindedly drew patterns against his chest, biting her lip as their eyes met, “And what's that supposed to mean?”

Severus cupped her face in his large hand and brought her down closer to him, speaking only a few inches away from her lips, “Whatever you want it to mean.”

Their lips pressed together and she placed a hand on the pillow at the side of his head, closing her eyes. Severus placed one hand on the upper-half of her back as she leaned over him a little more whilst the other hand remained against her cheek. Once Severus was confident she had eased into the kiss, his eyes closed, too. Their kisses were sweet and slow, both of them taking time to get a taste of one another before the next. She rolled onto him properly, not breaking the kiss for a moment and placing her hands against his cheeks, lightly caressing her thumbs over his cheeks as their kiss grew deeper. Severus loved the new weight on top of him, welcoming her with both of his arms now wrapped around her and kissing her with parted lips. One of his hands slid up the back of her night shirt and their tongues touched briefly, sending a jolt toward the pit of his stomach. After a few long moments of their tongues tangled together, she broke the kiss and instead trailed them to his jaw, kissing along it until she was then met with the side of his neck and smirking when she felt his hand attempt to grasp at her from under her night shirt as a result; his rough fingertips trembling against her skin.

“M-Mm…” He whimpered, feeling her lips now peppering kisses down the side of his neck, “That's nice, baby.” He spoke in a gruff whisper, tilting his head to the side to ease her access and moving one of his hands to one of her breasts, gently kneading his palm against the side of it whilst she remained pressed chest-to-chest against him; unsure which part of that was turning him on more.

She rolled her hips against his once her lips were met with the crook of his neck, causing a small whine to sound from his lips. Severus’ eyes remained closed, unsure how much of her taunting he could take. This wasn't helped when he felt her breath against his skin from her moaning as a result of his hand still massaging against one of her breasts, now lightly flicking the tip of her tongue against the crook of his neck. His lips parted to speak this time, but words quickly disappeared from his head when he felt her begin to kiss her way back up his neck, though the front of it this time, and she smirked when she felt the vibrations of his groan against her lips.

Severus’ hands weakly brushed against her skin from beneath her night shirt as her lips faintly grazed over his Adam’s apple, feeling his cock engorging further from everything that she was doing. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she readjusted herself — for now she was only sat over his lower stomach — and found out for herself.

“Sev?” She whispered against him, her lips now lingering against his jaw.

“Mm… mhmm?” Severus responded in a daze, his fingertips continuing to tremble against her back.

She trailed kisses to his ear and kissed it sweetly before whispering into it innocently, “Goodnight.”

Severus’ eyes opened when he felt her climb off him completely and lay back at his side again, resting her head against his chest. He exhaled as quietly as he could, trying to seem unbothered by this abrupt ending of her gentle taunting.

“Goddamn this bloody early start tomorrow.” He chuckled uneasily, swallowing hard as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s only one day for the sake of a training session before the new school year starts,” She spoke with a smile, “We’ll be able to sleep in for another few days after that until the real madness begins.”

Severus nodded in agreement and dipped his chin to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, though he knew perfectly well that sleeping was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He didn't know if she enjoyed taunting him or if she was just simply too time conscious as to what time they had to be up in the morning to even think about taking things any further than a few harmless kisses and touching. He was tempted to insinuate that he didn't quite want the night to end just yet, but was afraid of coming on a bit too strong. Should he talk to her about it? Try and perhaps even hint physically that he wanted her? Even if he was known as the severe, sharp tongued Professor, he was certainly nervous when it came to talking about that. So, instead, he settled with speaking softly as he closed his eyes, “Sweet dreams, dear.”

He felt her smile against his chest and it wasn't long before he could tell she had drifted off to sleep; her breathing a little more shallow. Severus’ eyes, however, opened again and he found himself staring up at the ceiling. He wished he had, had the courage to tell her how her kisses really made him feel, but he also didn't want to embarrass himself by making it obvious how quickly she had aroused him. The biggest issue now was the pulsing problem between his legs that was pitching the bedsheets slightly. He glanced down in the darkness and swallowed hard, well aware that if she was to move her arm from being hooked across his torso, she could easily feel it. Having her so near to him was not helping the situation, however. Maybe he should try and slip out of bed and… walk it off?

He waited long enough to be almost completely sure she was in a deep sleep before he even began to think about trying to move without waking her. First, he moved his arm out from around her shoulders as steadily as possible, then he shuffled further to the edge of the bed whilst being careful not to allow the mattress dip too much as he moved. Carefully, once on his feet, he pulled the bedsheets up to cover her and silently tucked her into bed. He cringed as he took his first step away from the bed, praying that it wouldn't create a creak that would wake her. It didn't. He breathed a sigh of relief and reached for his robe hung up on the back of his bedroom door, putting it on and tying the tassels round him as he made his way out of the bedroom.

Although he continued to move about the place as subtly as possible, the restriction held within the front of his boxers served as a constant reminder of why he needed to try and do anything that would take his mind off what he craved the most right now.

Just take care of it yourself.

He placed one of his hands over the bulge as he had the conversation with himself in his head. The brief contact made him shudder slightly but he shook his head, hoping that if he sat down on the sofa, closed his eyes and thought of something else, his problem would disappear. Funnily enough, however, it didn't. She drove him crazy, like something he had never experienced before; he’d never felt lust or desire like it. He would have jumped at the chance to show her how she made him feel and exactly how he would like to show her certainly wasn't helping his situation. How he’d like her to have rocked against him, cause some friction against his needy cock. How he would've liked to have replaced his caressing hands against her breasts with his lips. He’d be gentle and tender, but also apply enough suction to leave his mark; dark purple ringlets in the shape of his lips from where they’d been. How he’d like to taste her, any part of her, all of her. His cock reacted with an almighty throb from his thoughts.

Fuck.

He knew at this point he wouldn't be able to sleep whatsoever unless he dealt with the problem. It kind of turned him on even more knowing he had to do something about it. Allow himself to do something about it. However, he had only just began to allow himself to enjoy pleasure from another person, let alone stoop so low to enjoy it from himself. He knew it wouldn't take long, and he knew this needy throbbing wouldn't go away any time soon. He wasn't going to wake her to see if she would be up for a bit of fooling around, how embarrassing, he thought. He was far too nervous to admit that this was the effect she repeatedly had on him.

No one has to know, as long as you get it over and done with quickly.

“Challenge accepted…” He mumbled to himself and untied his robe, watching as it came apart and revealed the stubborn protrusion in the front of his underwear. One of the things Severus hated the most, one thing that would almost bring out his self-loathing more than anything else, was giving in to himself like this. He inhaled deeply, ashamed and appalled with himself for already being so desperate for release. He was just going to have to get a grip, and in more ways than one.

His hand sank into the front of his underwear and wrapped around the base of his cock, exhaling deeply. Slowly and loosely, he moved his hand up and down his erection as he mentally came to terms with what he was about to do. Once his grip tightened, he allowed his eyes to fall shut as he moaned quietly. His mind drifted to the intimate moments he had shared with her, and the longing of her hand to be around him instead. He pictured her there at the side of him on the sofa, lips against his neck, hand snug around his cock and pumping up and down his length in sync with each kiss upon his skin. His length pulsated in his fist, oozing precum and wetting the inside of his boxers with it. Absentmindedly, mostly because up until this point he didn't realise quite the extent how desperate he was to get himself off, he pushed the front of his boxers down with his free hand and pulled himself out of them completely for better ease of moving his wrist.

“O-Ohh… fuck.” He moaned to himself sinking further down into the sofa.

He took advantage of the clear stickiness gathering at the tip of his length and ran his index finger over it, hissing through clenched teeth. He then bit down on his bottom lip as he began to massage his sticky finger just beneath the head of his cock; bolts of electricity coursing through his body each time from the sheer sensitivity of it. The feeling served him for a while, but it only made his need to reach his climax as quickly as possible worse.

His hand was around his cock again and this time he was picturing her knelt on the floor in front of him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as he imagined her taking him in her hand, her mouth. His wrist became almost possessed from the way it was now thrashing up and down his entire length, pushing his hips up slightly to meet with his fist and moaning each time as he pulsated in delight.

“E—El… Eleanor…” He moaned out the name of the woman he had left in his bed, too shy to wake her in a state like this, and began to twist his wrist, ensuring that his thumb rubbed just under the head of his cock, whispering this time, “Ellie, baby… mmmhh…”

He brought the fist of his free hand into his mouth and bit down on it hard in an attempt to silence the blissful sounds threatening to escape from his lips. He could barely stop himself at this point, whimpering as he bit down harder onto his fist. This moans, forced to be quiet, rattled in his throat as he relentlessly pumped his hand up and down, squeezing his eyes shut with his eyebrows narrowed.

“Enjoying yourself?” A voice asked from the doorway, startling him.

“H—Huh?!” His eyes snapped open and he tore his hand away from his cock, helplessly trying to cover himself back up again with either sides of his parted robe, “Fuck…” He muttered under his breath.

“Hm?” Eleanor raised her eyebrows at his now crimson cheeks once she was stood in front of him.

Severus couldn't even construct a sentence, let alone dare to look up at her. He could feel the heat in his cheeks now rising even higher than the one previously building in his stomach. Very briefly, he glanced up at her but then looked back down at the floor.

“I—I…” His mouth opened and closed like a fish, his heartbeat thumping in his chest in rhythm with the throbbing of his now unattended length.

Eleanor perched on the coffee table directly in front of him and bit her lip as she trailed her eyes up his body painfully slowly, paying particular attention to the protrusion trying to part through his robe. Their eyes met and Severus felt his hands immediately become sweaty, blinking hard.

“I asked if you were enjoying yourself…” She squinted her eyes, allowing her gaze to fall to the parting in his robe again before back up at his face and speaking before he even had a chance to respond, “I didn't tell you to stop.”

“I’m sorry?” Severus widened his eyes slightly, his voice coming out more high pitched than he had intended.

“You heard me,” She shrugged, licking her lips as her eyes gestured back toward his crotch again, “I didn't tell you to stop.”

“You… You want me to…” He felt his face begin to flush pink again, “While you…” He gestured weakly in front of him, “Right there?”

“Severus…” She sighed impatiently, giving him a stern look, “Did I fucking stutter?”

Severus shook his head.

“Do you really want to cum?” She narrowed her eyes again.

Severus hesitantly nodded, already ashamed of himself.

“Go ahead.” She spoke simply, leaning back on both of her hands behind her on the coffee table and crossing one of her legs over the other.

Severus inhaled deeply and stopped holding his robe closed, now allowing either side of it to part and reveal the angry arousal casting a pulsating shadow over his lower stomach. Eleanor lost her breath as she watched him wrap his hand around his stubborn erection and saw him shudder from the contact. Severus found it hard to distinguish whether he was more embarrassed or turned on from a result of following her instructions.

Once again, and with great ease, his fist began to work its way up and down himself, earning a muffled moan each time. He was so close to spilling just before she had caught him that he was afraid he was about to embarrass himself even further by showing he, as a grown man, actually had no self control at all when it came to how long he could make himself last. With this in mind, he was even more determined to prolong his climax as much as painfully possible.

“Mmm, does that feel good, baby?” Eleanor whispered, licking her lips as her eyes followed the movement of his hand, “To give in to what you caused?”

Severus’ gaze found hers again and he spoke darkly, “To give in to what you caused.”

“Me?” She asked, moving herself closer to him and placing a hand on each of his spread knees.

Severus nodded weakly and couldn't help but allow his eyes to fall shut. Eleanor watched in awe as his fist repeatedly stroked his length at a faster pace each time, his cock visibly pulsing in his grip. His eyes were now screwed shut as he grew closer and closer to the edge, mouth slightly parted and beads of sweat forming upon his face as he lost all self-dignity in order to chase the release he so desperately needed.

“Why didn't you wake me, Severus?” She asked, now off the coffee table completely and leaning over him with their faces close.

“B..Bec…” His voice trailed off when he felt her shift position and crouch in front of him instead, “Because- fuck.” He moaned softly, now feeling her lips against his inner parted thighs.

“Mm, mm, mm,” She made quiet noises as she peppered kisses up and down one thigh to the other.

“M—Must you tease me so?” He whimpered, afraid he would fall victim to the bubbling warmth in his stomach a little earlier than he had anticipated.

He tilted his head against the back of the sofa and let out a shaky breath each time his fist pumped up and down combined with the skilfully timed touches of her lips. His chest began to heave and he suddenly began to feel even more shame upon him at the thought of himself spilling over his own hand right in front of her.

“Me teasing, hm?” She scoffed playfully against his skin, pressing a harder kiss against him before lifting her head again and narrowing her eyes, “You are the one touching yourself over the state I apparently left you in…” She followed his fist with her eyes for a few moments before continuing, “Though, the mind boggles at just how I could leave you in such a state whilst I was sleeping.”

“Do not be a fool, it was obviously your actions before you were sleeping.” Severus spoke in a sudden unamused tone.

“Severus,” Eleanor’s voice lowered, “If you would like to keep that pathetically desperate cock of yours, I would suggest you don't ever speak to me like that again.”

Severus’ jaw locked, his hand now trembling as he stroked himself slowly and shuddered out a moan.

“Or is this what you planned all along, hm?” She arched a brow, “For me to wind up here; on my knees, between your legs, mouth open, tongue flat out, and me saying, ‘aim and fire, Professor.’. Did you have it all planned out?” She asked, her tongue already out and flattened as she parted her lips, making direct eye contact with him.

“E—Eleanor, please…” Severus whimpered, feeling the heat climbing his body at a rapid rate.

“Please… what?” She smirked, standing up and pushing his hand away from his cock as she did so, “Tell me why you didn't wake me, Severus.”

“I-I didn't want to-”

“Oh, you didn't?” She butted in, setting her hands on his shoulders.

“I-I wanted you,” He swallowed hard, “I just didn't want to wake you…”

“Such a gentleman…” She spoke in a sarcastically flattered tone, brushing her lips against his as she straddled his lap, “Why didn't you want to wake me, Severus?”

“No comment…” Severus mumbled, barely even to even kiss her due to how much he was trembling.

“Were you embarrassed of getting aroused so easily and thought coming in here to get yourself off would be the easier option?” She whispered against his lips this time.

Severus was too nervous to admit that, that was the truth, and kissed her properly this time as an attempt of trying to avoid it.

“Tell me the truth and I'll give you exactly what you want.” She tried not to grin so widely against his lips, now grinding against his upright, hardened length.

“Fuck…” He shuddered from her sudden direct contact, shakily raising his hands to place them on her hips, “I- I found myself in a certain aroused state after we bid goodnight, and…” He blinked hard and paused for a moment as she applied more pressure to him now, “I took it upon myself to come and…”

“Touch yourself?” She arched a brow, finishing his confession for him.

“T-Touch myself, yes…” He mumbled, trying to calm his breathing.

“And you didn't wake me or feel like telling me because…” She pulled back slightly and raised her nightgown over her head; her now naked body sending his head spinning even more.

“B-Bec…” He blinked hard to try and force himself to concentrate, “Because I was ashamed of allowing myself to feel that way.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Severus,” She whispered, now sitting over his length completely and whimpering against his lips as she felt him fill her entirely, her hands cupping his face, “In fact, to have that effect on you, it is rather fucking hot.”

“O-Oh, El…” He gasped, his body jolting forward as the air got caught in his throat, “Ellie, baby…”

“Shh, shh,” She continued to hold his face in her hands, starting to bounce over his cock and pressing a kiss to his lips each time he filled her, “Mmmh, my poor untouched Potions’ Master…”

For some reason, those words alone were making his cock throb. Putting him down but also at the same time asserting her dominance over him drove him wild in a way he could not have ever foreseen. Their lips crashed together clumsily as Eleanor treated his cock as if it were a po-go-stick and exchanged moans into one another’s mouthes.

“Th-That’s it, ugh!” Severus grunted loudly as his climax threatened to climb his body again, his trembling hips lifting to meet hers.

“D-Don’t cum, Sev…” She whispered lowly, now gripping onto his shoulders as she moved over him with her mouth hanging wide open, “N-Not yet…”

“Not… yet!?” Severus whined, the pain and frustration from his built up orgasm audible in his tone.

“No…” She dipped her head, kissing the side of his neck briefly before speaking seductively into his ear, “Take me to bed, Severus.”

Severus’ breath was taken from him from the way she spoke to him. Her hips stilled over him completely, remaining sat over him, and she gazed down into his eyes, moving her hands back to his cheeks as she kissed him again, “Take me to bed, Severus,” She repeated, “I want to go to bed.”

In one swift, sudden motion, Severus scooped her up in his arms and stood up from the sofa — all impressively without breaking the kiss. Eleanor threw her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist. For a moment, as he carried her through the living room, she thought about telling him to have his way with her against one of the stone walls, but she then reminded herself that she wanted to have her way with him, and was fairly certain that was what he desired, too.

He placed her on the bed and leaned down to continue the desperate kisses, frantically shaking his night gown off himself before clambering over her as she laid back on the bed and attaching his lips to the side of her neck. Eleanor tilted her neck to one side to allow him more access and moaned softly from the urgent nature of his kisses while her hands slid down to the waistband of his boxers, pushing them off.

Once his boxers were on the floor, one of her hands found his face and tilted it more toward her lips instead of her neck, speaking against them breathlessly, “Get on your back, Professor.”

Without a word, and even though his entire body was shaking with arousal, Severus complied with her instruction and rolled to the side of her. He watched closely as she climbed on top of him, lowering her hips purposefully slowly onto his angrily pulsing cock that was now situated pointing upward against his stomach. His eyebrows narrowed as she began to grind back and forth over him, his lips parting with a soft whine from the taunting friction she caused.

“E—Eleanor…” He was barely audible, his eyes falling shut as she leaned forward to kiss either corner of his lips.

“Hmm?” She hummed softly, pressing down on him a little harder and moaning against his lips, “Severus, how can your cock feel this good without it being inside me?” She whispered, feeling herself sliding back and forth against his cock with ease and speaking between kisses, “The mind boggles at how good it will feel once it’s inside me.” She breathed out the last part of the sentence.

Severus could barely even move, let alone speak; each of her comments pushing him closer and closer to the possibility of releasing his pent up arousal all over himself. He made a pathetic attempt at trying to lift his lips to stress his need but just resulted in letting out a small grunt instead.

“P—Please… fuuuck,” He wheezed, his jaw locking as the pit of his stomach gave an almighty jolt of want, “Fuck me… I need it… need it…”

“Sorry, Severus,” She stopped all together, much to Severus’ frustration, and sat up, “Was that… begging?”

Severus opened his heavy eyes and admitted embarrassingly quickly, nodding from her question.

“What do you want from me, Professor?” She squinted her eyes teasingly, drawing patterns on his chest with her nails.

“I… I need… want… to…”

“What, hm?”

“I want to cum, I need to cum…” He swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks flushing deep red with shame from his confession, “P-Please make me cum, Eleanor…”

“Since you begged so nicely,” She smirked, feeling herself growing warm from his visible and verbal desperation.

Severus’ lips parted, but they only got further and further apart as he watched her position his erection directly between her legs and sit over him properly with complete ease. His eyes instantly squeezed shut and head pressed back into the mattress from the sudden tight warmth around him, moaning softly. He managed to gain the strength to lift his arms and place them against her hips, following her movement up and down again as she leaned down to place a hand at either side of his head to support the quick pace of her bouncing hips over him.

Their lips smacked together and tongues tangled, their bodies writhing and slotting into one another like pieces of a jigsaw. Severus’ hands moved from her hips to her hair; entangling his fingers within it as the desperate kisses continued. Eleanor let out a series of moans that grew higher and higher in pitch each time, grinding her hips over him in rougher motions.

“You're going to… t-to… fuck.” Severus hissed, sucking air through his clenched teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a familiar warmth in the pit of his stomach.

Eleanor understood him completely and pressed a final hard kiss to his lips before sitting up straight against so she could bounce over him more freely, whimpering with each movement, “Sev, Sev, Sev…”

“I—I’m cu-!” His words were choked out of him from the intensity of the bliss surging through him, “I’m…. agh, shit, fuck, fuuuck!” Several profanities left his lips as the pent up release left his body, sending jets of his sticky climax inside her with each almighty throb of his cock.

“Mmmh, Professor!” Eleanor cried In pleasure, feeling herself reaching her orgasm with the help of Severus’ lifted hips as his back arched from the bolts of electricity shooting through him.

Their echoes of release bounced off his stone chamber bedroom walls, each one so loud they ricochet so violently it was as if they hit the walls and then came back to strike them. They rode out their continuous waves of pleasure, both of them shouting out as the feeling trembled throughout their bodies, even when movements began to slow.

“Oh, oh, yes…” Severus panted, though his moans became more wincing as his length grew ever-so sensitive after the powerful climax he had just encountered.

The pleasure filled noises slowly turned more into heavy breathing as her bouncing hips became more of a steady grind until they eventually came to a stop. Severus remained completely at her mercy; arms by his sides, chest heaving up and down, clammy hair against his forehead and beads of sweat upon his skin — completely overcome by and on the comedown of the previous ecstasy that had been pumping through him.

“Sev, baby…” Eleanor exhaled, laying herself over him and turning her head to rest her cheek upon his hot, sticky chest. She didn't care if he was an exhausted, sweaty mess right now, she wasn't ready to break the skin on skin contact just yet, and when she felt his arms lift and wrap themselves around her, her eyes felt shut with a soft sigh in the knowing that he felt the same.

“You’ve broken this aging man tonight,” Severus chuckled lightly as his breathing gradually returned to normal, “I’m sorry if you expected a man of my age to have a little more long lasting self control, if you get my meaning.”

“Stop it,” She rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her head slightly to kiss his chin, “Tonight has been a dream. From watching you to giving you what you want, its been incredible.”

“I hope it hasn't been a dream,” Severus raised his eyebrows, teasing, “Or I'm afraid I would be waking up in a rather sticky mess.”

“Filthy.” Eleanor scoffed, playfully pinching his side as she rolled off him.

“What was that for?!” Severus gasped dramatically, placing his hand over the skin she had pinched.

“Just proving to you that you're not dreaming.” She giggled.

“Oh, you little…” He spoke darkly as he lifted himself up and leaned over her, pressing several kisses to her lips and then about her face.

Eleanor grinned against his lips, lifting her hands up to tangle in his hair and continuing to giggle as he peppered her face with his kisses. She felt his wide smile against her skin and kissed him back each time he reached her lips, each of them exhaling flirtatious, infectious laughter through their noses as they continued to fool around until they were under the sheets.

“To make you smile is a wonderful thing, Severus,” Eleanor whispered softly, hooking an arm around him as she lay by his side.

“You make me do far more than just smile.” Severus replied, wrapping his arms around her.

“Mm, it’s a pleasure… Having the man who usually craves to be in his own company to desire mine,” She smirked to herself, gently kissing his shoulder, “Because, for you to beg for me, Severus, that is a whole different thing entirely.”

“What is this power you hold over me?” Severus asked into the darkness.

“Do you remain under it at your own will?” Eleanor bit her lip.

“Unashamedly.” Severus confessed.

“Then, I suggest we get what little amount of sleep we have left now and ask no further questions.” She responded simply, leaning up to press an innocent kiss to his cheek as they both closed their eyes.

-

Tags! (please note I tagged as many as Tumblr would allow 😭)

@acupnoodle @megladon045 @overgrownbat @innercherryblossomwitch @hamiltonstann @icytrickster17 @sneepseverus @honeyshampoo @bibliosophie @snifellus @liv2post @eyesinmymindinmay @pinterestwhore145 @dracolilhoe @frequent-apple @nidamae-approvedhpfanfics @hauntinq-6 @dontrunannabelle @dark-t1des @callm3c0nfus3d @slytherinqueen4life @ilovesevsnape @wh0reforthemarauders @sorryimdyingrn @nooneeveryonenoone @mrs-snape5984 @vulnus-sanare @nymphaforesta @missgurlthang @thesecretsofseverussnape @evil-eyebrow @peppiloll @hazedwords

[incapableofanything]

Of course

Reblog if you've ever cried over the death of a fictional character

[distantdarlings]

HAVE ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When you are paired with Cormac McClaggen for a mid-semester project, he takes it as an opportunity to shoot his shot. However, despite your numerous rejections, he doesn't seem to want to let up. That is until Theo gets involved.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT, depictions of violence (a small fight, specifically), blood described very briefly, Cormac is hitting on reader and won't leave them alone, language, oral sex (perf. on reader), kissing, dom!Theo, fem reader, not proof-read

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Hotel - Montell Fish

---

The chatter around the classroom slowly dwindled as Professor Snape silently slipped through the door of his office. Everyone was waiting patiently for the results of his decision from yesterday. He mentioned that the mid-semester project would be partnered rather than solo. To you, that was bad news, but to others in the class, it was good. You worked best when you didn’t have to sort out the ideas getting bounced around aloud. But if you had to work with a partner, please let it be someone halfway decent.

“So,” Snape starts, “I have here the list of partners for the mid-semester project. As a reminder, you will be handling very toxic materials, so for the sake of all of our time, be careful with them.” His expression hinted at boredom, despite the unfortunate things he was referencing. Last year, someone nearly lost a hand with this project, and—to be quite honest—that was one of the reasons you were so excited about it. You liked the challenge and, even better, overcoming it. But you couldn’t do that with a shitty partner. Your fingers crossed beneath your open notebook.

“Malfoy with Weasley, Berkshire with Granger,” he began listing the names. Your hips shifted uncomfortably. He was pairing everyone with the opposite house. Surely he’d grant you some mercy with how well you’d been doing in this class?

“—Nott with Finnigan—” Your thoughts were briefly interrupted as Theodore’s name was called. That was an interesting pairing; however, you knew that Potions was one of Theo’s strong suits, and, granted they worked well together, the both of them would successfully keep their eyebrows intact. 

Your eyes found the older boy, tracing over every line on his face. You were friends, pretty good friends. His whole group of Slytherins were friendly with you, really. But there was something about him that had shocked you to your core from the first night you’d met him and started chatting at the Sorting ceremony when the both of you were eleven. He was quite literally one of the most attractive people you’d ever seen, and it seemed like he knew it too. The way he held himself down to the way he communicated with people, he just knew he was alarmingly alluring. 

He had a way of staring right into your eyes when you spoke to him, almost to the point it felt as if he was reading your mind. No matter what, he’d give you his full attention, even more so than his other friends, it seemed. Maybe you had always imagined it, but if you called his name, he was there. He would be waiting with his ear next to your lips, eager to hear what you had to say, no matter how you were feeling. Perhaps it was cliche, but you felt as though you could tell him anything, and you did. 

His eyes found yours suddenly. His lips parted into a crooked smile, his dazzling white teeth peeking through slightly. You returned the action, raising your eyebrows in an amused fashion at his partner for the project. He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. He pointed at you and mouthed, ‘You’re coming up.’ You rolled your eyes and laughed silently as you brushed him off. You were laughing, but, in all seriousness, this wasn’t a comedic matter. Your Potions grade was potentially on the chopping block here, and you were getting nervous. Snape didn’t grade depending on who did what; he simply graded on the project's legitimacy. You could do this by yourself, but if whomever your partner ended up being fucks it up, you both were screwed. And, on top of it all, you would have to work with a Gryffindor, someone you likely barely knew. Perfect. 

Your name perked your ears as Snape paused for a moment, trying to decipher his own handwriting. Merlin, was he trying to tease you? You glanced around, wondering who hadn’t been selected yet. You hadn’t been paying attention. “Ah! With McClaggen.”

Your heart sank. You turned to glance over your shoulder at the showy Gryffindor sitting in the back corner of the classroom. He sent a wink and a small smirk your way, to which you replied by quickly turning back around. Did the universe hate you? It must. That was the only answer. Shit.

“Get to work,” he instructed, returning to his office and firmly shutting the door behind him. You weighed out the options in your head on how angry Snape would be if you asked to switch partners. You were sure he picked them for a reason…or maybe he didn’t? Merlin, help. Should you even bother with this? Maybe you could convince McClaggen to let you do all the work. He could sit patiently by and be quiet.

The classroom bustled gently as students were standing and finding their partners. Small groans echoed as everyone paired up. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that disliked your partner. Usually, you wouldn’t have expected Professor Snape to have paired Gryffindors with Slytherins. Who knew? Maybe he was trying something new.

You hid a wince and got to your feet. You collected your notebook and school bag and made your way over to the smirking boy. His hands were placed cockily behind his head, and one leg rested, crossed over the other. He maximalized every bit of space he took up, like a peacock. You repressed a groan and sat down in the seat next to him, neatly spreading your things out. 

“Well, hello,” he cooed. “I don’t think I’ve spoken with you before.”

“I don’t think so either,” you chuckled nervously, eyes finding the back of Theo’s head. He sat towards the front of the classroom, partnered with the clumsy Gryffindor. You wondered if he was having the same doubts you were. As if on beat, his head turned and made eye contact with you. He hid a smile at your current predicament and gave you a small wave with his fingers. You rolled your eyes and, with the hand farthest from McClaggen, pretended to choke yourself with it. Theo laughed aloud before turning back around when his partner tapped his shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” your partner asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Nothing,” you smiled, “how about we get started?”

Most of the class period was spent discussing the potion the two of you wanted to brew. The assignment was to pick one of the most difficult potions to brew and to make and document the experience successfully. All of the potions you were to choose from were in the very last chapter of your textbook, and the two of you flipped through the pages, unsure. 

Every so often, Cormac (you’d learned his first name was) would point at something on one of the pages and scoot ever so closer to you. He was so close now you could smell the peppermint candy he swished around his mouth. His arm rested alongside the back of your chair, and you were…immensely uncomfortable. Your back straightened so as not to come into contact with his arm. 

Throughout this whole experience, you’d glance Theo looking back at the two of you every so often and wonder if you could signal him to distract the boy. It wasn’t that you felt threatened; you just wish he’d back the hell up. If you had a personal bubble, it had long since combusted. His face was so close to yours, and no matter how far you leaned away, he’d get closer. Finally, you’d had enough.

“Cormac,” you laughed nervously. You placed one hand on his chest and slowly pushed him back toward his own seat. 

“What is it?” he asked. No matter what you did, that stupid smirk never failed.

“You are very close to me,” you explained, trying to remain as polite as possible. He shrugged and chuckled a bit, gaining on some of the space you’d placed between the two of you. 

“Well, that’s because I want to get closer to you,” he said. 

“Uh, no,” you tittered, “that’s okay. Let’s just do the project.” You tapped the textbook and pretended to immerse yourself back in the information, hoping he’d let it lie. He didn’t. His arm wrapped back around your chair, and your eyes slipped close in exasperation. 

“Cormac, please—”

“What? Don’t you want to get to know each other before we do a project together?” he asked, scooting closer yet again.

“No, I really don’t. I just want to get this done.” His face resumed its previous proximity to yours. He smirked at the closeness and you sighed, turning your face away from his, begging Theo to glance back again.

“Oh, I see…is he your boyfriend?” Cormac asked. Your face shot back to his.

“What? No! He’s just a friend,” you said.

“That was a very quick, rushed answer,” he laughed, “but if you say so, that’s even better for me—”

“Please, let’s just do the assignment,” you pleaded, “I’m really not interested.”

“Not even for a trip to Hogsmeade?”

“No, not really, you’re not my type.” You glanced back at Theo. He was finally looking back. Only this time, his eyes were locked on the boy beside you, with his face so close to yours. His eyes gleamed blood red, and his jaw clenched tightly. Your eyebrows furrowed, begging him to intervene somehow. If Cormac wasn’t too embarrassed to shoot his shot in the middle of class, surrounded by his peers, you were almost positive he’d continue to harass you outside of the classroom. Maybe even when the two of you were alone, and he might not let up at that point.

“What is your type?” he asked. “Brooding assholes in Slytherin?” He said this part a bit louder, making direct eye contact with Theo. You could feel the tension building slightly, and did your best to diffuse the situation. You partially blocked their gaze of each other.

“Please don’t say that about him.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. Why are you defending him?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but he is my friend, and I’d like you not to call him names,” you spoke sternly, eyes hardening on the boy. He was plucking the last strings of your patience. 

“Fine, I will—” you nodded at his promise “—if you let me take you to dinner.”

The bell signalling the end of class interrupted the conversation. Thank Merlin. You quickly gathered your things together and shoved them into your bag, praying he’d just drop the subject and let you move on with your day. You’d figure out a way to deal with him later. For right now, you just wanted to get your free period started as soon as possible. He stood right when you did. You ignored him and made for the exit, walking as quickly as looked natural.

You were the first out of the classroom and down the hall, trying your best to get away from him without completely abandoning Theo. A hand grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. It roughly spun you around, yanking a yelp from your throat. You stood before Cormac, who had a sinister look on his face. 

“You never answered me,” he said. “Let me take you to dinner…”

“No, Cormac, I don’t want to go,” you said, attempting to wrestle yourself out of his iron grip. What about your thousand answers was he not grasping? 

“Let go of me.” His hand did not release you, and it did not seem like he intended to, either. You slipped your hand between his and your shoulder, trying to edge it off. He made a sound of endearment before attempting to slide a hand around your hips. You squealed and squirmed away from him, trying to prevent him from wrapping his arms farther around you.

“Hey!” A voice shouted. The both of you began to turn, but before Cormac could get his head fully pivoted, a hand appeared on his shoulder and yanked him away from you. It was Theo, and he appeared to be fuming. His jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes were wild.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, McClaggen?” he demanded. “She said no, you dick!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. She said you weren’t her boyfriend,” the younger laughed meanly, poking him roughly in the chest. You winced at the contact. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, pushing the boy back from him. Cormac stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing. It appeared he was as surprised as everyone else was at the sudden hostility. Cormac laughed cockily. 

He raised a hand and swung his fist at Theo as hard as he could, getting a good hit in. Theo’s head jerked to the side from the force of the punch, and you gasped sharply, hands shooting to cover your mouth in shock. Natural instincts told you to jump back, but you rushed toward Theo, who pushed you back gently behind him, squeezing your arm firmly. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it meant to stay put. 

“Come on, Slytherin!” Cormac shouted. “Show me what your reject house is made of!”

A crowd of other students had begun to gather around the two boys, curious to see what all of the commotion was. Adrenaline pumped through your veins like ice water as you watched Theo approach the other boy, cocking his arms and wringing any stiffness out of them. 

Before you could feel the exhalation of breath leave your body, Theo swung his arm at the boy, cracking him hard across the jaw. As if in slow motion, Cormac fell back and hit the ground with a hard thud. You imagined his tailbone would be quite bruised tomorrow morning. 

Theo fell down on top of the boy, legs resting on either side of his hips, and wailed on him. Fist after fist hit the boy’s face, pushing more and more blood out of him. You screamed in shock as you realized Theo had no intention of stopping. Around the same time you did, everyone else did too. They began throwing shouts of concern and pressing in on the two boys. Everybody loved a good fight now and then but nobody wanted to see someone get killed. 

Yet, nobody put their hands on Theo for fear of being in the same predicament as Cormac currently was. That was, until Enzo and Mattheo ran up behind the crowd. You heard them ask if that was Theo.

“Enzo!” you shouted his name, waving over the crowd. His eyes quickly found yours and in seeing the distress on your face, began weaving through the crowd. Mattheo quickly followed suit. 

When they breached the barrier of the crowd, their eyes widened, and they made for their friend. They grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the poor boy, his face a mangled mess. You looked away quickly, not wanting to see the damage that had been done in your favor.

Once pulled away, a gathering of students ran over to Cormac and covered him with a wall of their protection, trying to see if they could help him somehow. You turned to Theo, who was breathing heavily, a single dripping of blood pouring from his nose. You turned to the bottom of your uniform shirt, found the edge of the seam, and tore a small section of it. You could get a replacement sometime later.

You approached the boy with a murderous gaze and gently pressed the piece of shirt beneath his nose. He flinched slightly but never looked away from Cormac. Maybe that hadn’t been for you, and he’d just wanted to beat Cormac’s ass—which is understandable, but still. You weren’t totally sure why he did it.

“Theo?” you spoke gently. His glare didn’t waver. The fingers pressing the material against his bloodied nose tilted his face carefully to look at you. His eyes found yours, softening slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t stand him touching you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. He didn’t seem convinced. How he looked at you with such concern and worry made you wonder if he thought you were mad at him. You shook your head at the question running through your mind. Obviously, he didn’t know what you had been thinking, but you hoped he’d understand somehow. 

You helped Enzo and Mattheo pull him to his feet and escort him away from the crowd before any of the professors showed up. Speaking of which, they likely should have been out here by now. 

As you helped the boys guide Theo toward the Slytherin common room, you were careful to avoid any obvious eyes that raced past them to see what the aftermath of the commotion was. Hopefully, nobody would notice them and they could deal with the whole situation later. The group turned the corner and stopped before the entrance to the dorm room. Enzo announced the password, and the lot of you headed inside, pulling Theo up the stairs and into the boys’ dorm room. He pulled away from them suddenly and sat on his bed.

“Alright, alright, I’m okay!” he declared. “I just got a sock to the jaw; my legs weren’t broken.”

“They’re just trying to help, Teddy,” you whispered, trying to place the cloth back on his nose that had started up its intermittent spurting again. He sighed and gently grabbed your wrist, holding it away from his face. He was never rough with you, despite how angry he was.

“I’m fine, I’m just wound up, I don’t need any of you to—”

“Nonsense,” you interrupted him. “Mattheo, Enzo, would the two of you mind running down to the hospital wing and asking Madam Pomfrey if she has anything to stop the bleeding. It’s not excessive, but it’s messy.”

“Is there not a spell or something like that?” Mattheo asked, clearly concerned for his friend.

“Not one that I know off the top of my head. Would you just go ask her, please?” you repeated yourself. The two boys seemed to hesitate but eventually worked their way out of the room with their destination in mind. Once they were gone, your eyes turned back to Theo’s. An amused glint lay suspended in his eyes.

“‘Nothing that comes to mind?’” he smirks. “If a spell comes to my mind and not yours, the world must be upside down.” You conceal a laugh. You knew a spell. You knew multiple healing spells, but you wanted Mattheo and Enzo out of the room for a second. You just wanted to speak with Theo about what had happened. 

“I’m sorry I lied to your friends,” you said. “But I really wanted to talk with you privately, and I didn’t want to wait.” His eyes keep a tight hold on yours. You swallow thickly. 

“Okay, what is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Anxiety pools in your stomach as you realize you hadn’t really planned anything to say. You wanted to know why Theo had done what he did and if it was for or because of you. Cormac had been bothering you, yes, but it could have just been that Theo really disliked him and wanted to intervene. 

“Why did you do that?” you ask. Probably the worst way you could have asked that, but it was what came out. You might as well own it at this point. 

“Do what?” he mused.

“Why did you stop Cormac?”

“That feels like a dumb question. He was laying his hands on you without your permission.”

“Would you have done that for anyone, though?” you stuttered through your interrogation.

“I suppose not….why do you ask?” he asked, the smirk never leaving his face. Your eyes fell down to his lips suddenly, noticing that there was a small amount of dried blood stained across them. A small gasp left your lips as you reached your hand out. You didn’t think through any of the following movements; you just allowed your body to do as it pleased. Your fingers gently cradled his jaw, and your thumb swiped slowly over his lips, collecting the bit of staining as it crossed. Your eyes found him again, and you realized he was intently watching you. His eyes were softened by hunger. The way they traveled down to your lips, his lips parting as he found yours, his hands clenching by his side. It sent a chill down your spine. 

“Theo,” you breathed. You could not pull your eyes away from his swollen lips. You wanted so badly to learn their taste and memorize it for eternity. Just one kiss and you could be satisfied for the rest of your days. 

“I kicked Cormac’s ass because he was laying his hands on you, and I have been desperate to do that for years…,” he whispered. “The difference between him and I, though? I ask permission.” A glimpse of a chuckle spreads over his lips, and you feel your stomach blush with heat. As if he could feel it happen to you, his nose bumped softly against yours, igniting the heat and transforming it into a flame. 

“I want you so bad,” he whispered, the air skimming your lips. “Please let me have you.”

“Have me, Teddy.” Your response was final. His hands gripped each side of your face firmly and pressed your lips together. Heat and light and everything in between exploded into your stomach, sending shocks of love into your heart. You could have melted on the spot, and you nearly did, if it weren’t for Theo wrapping one arm tightly around your waist and holding you up.

His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You granted him access to every part of you with no push-back. All you wanted was to feel him everywhere and never to lose that feeling ever again. 

The both of his hands pushed around the back of your thighs and pulled them to either side of his bent knees. He settled you neatly onto his lap, you straddling his thighs against the bed. The action sent a lightning bolt of pleasure directly to your core as the space between his thighs urged gently against you. You sighed against his mouth, entangling your fingers into his hair. 

Everything about him was overwhelming. His smell, his taste, and his touch had you gasping for air. You had never realized how much you truly wanted him until this very moment. Without so much as a breath, he cradled your back with one hand and stood from his bed, lifting the two of you into the air. You squeaked from the sudden movement but relaxed instantly when he settled you against his bed. 

His lips detached from yours and quickly made alliance with your jaw and then your neck. His head worked down the frame of your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every sliver of skin he could find. When he reached the waistline of your uniform skirt, he tapped his finger twice against the spot where your shirt was tucked in. You nodded so quickly, it was almost pathetic. He smirked and slipped his hands between the materials. He tugged your shirt out and began laying the same types of kisses over your bare stomach. You groaned at the feeling, noticing the ardor he placed into each press of his lips. You felt worshipped and it was addicting.

His eyes flicked up to find yours as he slowly pushed himself farther down, placing himself just in front of your core. Without question, your legs began to spread for him, allowing him access to anything he wanted. You just needed to feel him; you didn’t care what he did. 

Your eyes found his face once more and scanned over the entirety of it. A deep, sinister glance rested in his eyes, holstering a lust so dark, it almost frightened you. His lips were slightly parted in a teasing, smirking way, just waiting to place themselves against you once more. And his nose had…oh, it had begun to bleed again. You reached down and swiped your thumb beneath it, pushing the excess discharge away. A small twinge of guilt hit you again at the thought of Theo getting himself hurt for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, frowning at the sight before you.

“You never have to apologize to me,” he breathed, “you are perfect.” And with that, he’d flipped the edge of your skirt over your legs and sunk his face between them. His tongue found your core before you could even get a word out. A breathless moan spilled from your lips as your spine arched off the bed. Your hands immediately pushed down to wrap themselves in his curls, savoring every single swipe of his tongue. 

“So fucking good,” he moaned against you, the vibrations sending messages up to your very brain. You quaked beneath the feeling, your thighs shaking against the boy’s hold on them. It was nearly becoming too much. You weren’t going to last much longer. If he wanted to do something, he’d better get to it.

“Theo, I’m…c—”

“Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing two chaste kisses to the inside of your thighs. You could feel the wetness spread across his lips and chin smear against your flesh. You shuddered at the sensation. It definitely should not have turned you on as much as it just did. “I want it on my tongue.”

He separates himself from you and slides his hands beneath the crook of your knees. With a firm grip, he yanks you to the edge of the bed, where your hips are lying just over the curve. His hands find your hips and flip you over onto your stomach, careful to avoid hurting you in any way. Ever so gentle.

You could hear him kneel down again behind you. Your thighs shook in anticipation just before he pressed his lips back to you. His tongue swirled across you in the most delicate of motions, drawing every sound possible from your lips. Your fingers gripped the sheets as each of his movements drew you closer to the edge. You might finish any second. 

“Hey-o!” Mattheo’s voice came from just outside the door. You jumped up and glanced back at Theo as the both of you separated as fast as possible. Theo came up to sit beside you on the bed and made quick work of wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. You pulled your skirt back over your legs and stood at attention, waiting for the two boys to enter. Damn it. You had been so close. 

The two boys walked in, clutching a small vial of liquid. Mattheo raised it to show the two of them, both of whom quickly nodded, smiling innocently. Surely, they wouldn’t suspect anything of the two of you. You’d never really expressed any feelings toward the other before now. At least not publicly.

“Where do you want this?” Mattheo asked.

“If you would just take it to the bathroom, we’re headed in there so they can help me clean up the rest of the way.” Both of the other boys nodded and headed back out the way they came, moving toward the group bathroom. 

Just as they left, Theo slipped his hand beneath your skirt and traced his fingers along you, allowing one to insert itself to its hilt. You gasped sharply, trying your best to mute the sound. His hand began to pump against you, slowly rising in speed as he hit that perfect spot each time with ease. The sounds spilling from your lips became less and less controlled as he pushed you towards the edge, keeping you standing tall and refusing to let you lay back down on the bed.

“Come like this, baby,” he whispered. “Quickly, before they get back.” His finger pressed deeply up into you one last time, bruising the soft spot and forcing a rushing finish down on you. Your lips parted in a shocked moan as the proof of your end slipped down around Theo’s fingers. He worked you through the entirety of it, never tiring and never halting. He could do this all day. 

The sound of his friends heading back toward the dorm room pushed the two of you apart once again. Only this time, Theo had a telling, lustful expression imprinted on his face, and the remains of your ecstasy were still painted across his fingers. You swiped a hand between your thighs in an attempt to clean yourself off and brushed any concerns from Mattheo or Enzo off. The ‘Are you okay?’ and the ‘You guys look weird’ had nothing on the steel resolve the both of you kept planted on your faces. If Theo could fight someone for you, you could fight the urge to tell his friends he’d just let you fuck his face while they were out running an errand. Oh well, such is life. You laughed to yourself. 

[halfbloodfics]

Hi! Yeah, so I desperately need a Pillow Fucking Snape who's needy for his Y/N as your sub!Snape headcannon made him 🥹👏 Skipping all the pleasantries here 'cus holy moly you got me with those headcannons and since you sent me here from the comments I went straight in for the request 👀❤️

A/N: {i have been wanting to write this, a sinfully long time. he's so sub its actually tragic. this is REALLY long im so sorry, but i really wanted to make it a sweet, long buildup of how much Sev really wants this woman :') Sev is literally like a feral cat experiencing love for the first time in this lmao}

title: let me get what i want

18+ minors dni

rating/tw: explicit, smut, brief mention of suicidal thoughts in very beginning

tags: solo smut, solo snape, sub!snape, snape centric pov, masterbation, insecurity, guilt, shame, kinda angsty, snape is touch starved, female professor reader

song: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths

MASTERLIST

~

Severus was a man not known for his indulgences. Everyone knew that. He knew that.

Gratification was a luxury he could never afford.

Growing up poor, Severus learned quick that what you desire is often not what you get. He had desired a lot of things before, certainly. To say he hadn't would be nothing but a lie. In the nights in his bedroom in that dusty old house on Spinners End, cowering in the corner, he desired for the drink in his fathers hand to put him to sleep at last. In his fifth year, glaring at the smirking upside down face of James Potter and Sirius black, he desired revenge. At 21, in the doorway of Dumbledore's office, when he learned the consequences of trust, he desired his death.

He had lived his entire life chasing his desires like a dog chasing the moon, knowing it was out of reach and yet too unevolved to understand how.

And yet... He had never felt his desire so, within grasp until he had met her. Those things of the past, poisonous, intangible pleasures, dark or light, had never been even remotely in reach.

She came into his life like a meteror, completely dashing across his sky, ripping him from the endless chase he had partoke in his entire life. Leading him on a completely seperate path, one he had never thought would ever find him...

True, honest, burning, desire.

The day she started teaching at Hogwarts in the middle of the year was a day like any other. Professor Sprout having retired rather abruptly, Severus didn't even spare a single thought at who would replace her. Why would he? For what reason? The weight of returning responsibilies lay heavy on his left forearm. Harry's 4th year, the emergence of his name from that god foresaken over-glorified cup; the promise of danger, the threat of a decade old vow..

The moment she walked in and sat beside him at the Professors table was hardly memorable, aside for the absolutely obnoxious outfit she were wearing.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he ate, interested only in seeing the face stupid enough to wear the brightest possible shade of yellow, in his presence, none the less.

When he found a rather young woman smiling at him, his gaze flicked away back to his plate. He had no interest. No desire, for conversation. And certainly not with someone resembling an overgrown daffodil.

It was barely the end of the first week when she had knocked on his door. Opening it and finding no one at his eye level, he glanced down.

Why on Earth, was she always wearing the horribly bright shade of yellow?

After she had given him an obscure collection of herbs, Severus thanked her with a brief nod before promptly closing the door on her face. He'd expected as much, Sprout and him had always had a decent, professional relationship. Their disciplines somewhat intertwined, Sprout had always provided him with the clippings of plants he needed, and in turn Severus had always provided her with whatever potions he could brew to help her plants. It wasn't the act that surprised him, but the way this new professor went about it.

She smiled a smile as bright as her shirt, every cursed night she knocked on his door. It was always something with this woman. A clipping, an herb, an old book. It was as if all things useful to him kept apparating in her office with a giant note saying "GIVE THIS TO THE GRUMPY GIT DOWN THE HALL."

Often times these gifts came along with unwanted and frankly unnecessary conversation. At first it was small talk, questions about his day, brief statements about yours. Often times she told him things about herself he didn't particularly care to know; such as what book she was reading, or how her vacation back home for the Holidays was.

What Severus did care for, was eye contact. It could have been the Occlumens in him, his guarded persona trying to gain some sense of dominance over the conversations where he usually felt none, an oppertunity to control.. to read.

And yet everytime he looked at her, he found her shining eyes looking right back up at him with a confidence that unnerved him. She stared him right in the eyes as he talked, not with a malice he had seen before, not with a fear he had grown accostomed to seeing and not even with an expectancy that so many demanded of him.

She looked at him like she could see right through him. As if she could see into every desire he ever had, as if his Occlumency skills were pointless against the skill of a 20 something year old Herbology Professor who hadn't even fought in the first Wizarding War.

And so reluctantly, as Severus took every gift with a nod and eventually a brief thanks, offering his own potions occasionally in return as he had so many times before despite feeling slightly unnerved.

The simple, professional relationship seemed to teeter on the edge of what was almost a-

"Friendship," She'd described it once in the doorway of his office. "It's a nice friendship we've got going on here, Severus. Thank you, for helping me, I appreciate it."

That was a word Severus hadn't clung to for quite some time.

He blinked, silent for several moments, for the first time in a long time almost uncertain of what to say. He hadn't considered her a friend, had he? Even as the months of the academic year had passed by, even as the conversation began to drift from work to hints of her personal life. Even as he found the corners of his lips occasionally twitching up in a smirk as she laughed her obnoxiously cheerful, loud laugh. Even after he began knocking on her door as she had knocked on his..

He hadn't even considered that she might have desired to be his friend. Or that he might have desired to be hers.

And in the months that passed by after that casual conversation, the one she had let slip likely without thinking twice, Severus found himself replaying the moment over and over in his head.

He found himself walking down the corridors between his lectures, expecting to see the young witch in that painfully bright yellow dress he'd somehow grown to tolerate.

He had even wiithout fully relising it himself, grown to desire it. her presence, her friendship.

And it had gone completely under that Roman nose until that one evening in March in the Great Hall for supper. Sitting beside her, Severus looked across the hall as he ate and she talked his ear off, a habit of avoiding her gaze he'd begun to pick up. It was only when she brushed her long hair off her neck and took a sip of her wine that Severus glanced at her for longer than a moment.

His heart stopped involuntarily in his chest.

Her neck, the soft, delicate flesh, was marked with a bruise of broken blood vessels. It was small, almost hidden towards the back of her neck, but that dark red mark stuck out like a thorn against the warm shade of yellow.

He didn't understand the sinking in his stomach he hadn't felt in over a decade. There was no reason for his jaw to clench as he looked back at his plate, no reason why his appetite was somehow ruined.

And all of a sudden, on a simple Tuesday in March, did Severus understand that he had grown to desire something...

"Gratification was a luxury he could not afford"

The weeks after that were nothing short of torture, for a magnitude of reasons. The dark mark on his arm burned stronger with each passing day; Karkaroff's words from the Yule Ball hung heavy in the air of his chamber, late at night when he couldn't sleep. The second task of the Triwizard tournament was a moment still echoing in his crowded mind. Who was stealing gillyweed? Why was Harry's name actually put in the goblet of fire?

And yet, out all of the absolute bullshit fighting for dominance in his crowded mind, did his thoughts always trail back to her.

Like a lovestruck idiot, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Or more so, thinking about that damned lovebite on her neck.

Why did he even care?

If Sprout had had a lovebite on her neck would he have even thought more of it other than the intial disgust?

Was this friendship? The concept was so foreign to him for so long he didn't even know. All he knew was that for the next several weeks, like a hormonal teenager, his body reacted to her presence quicker than his mind.

Every time she knocked on his door and looked up at him with those big bright eyes, he felt it. The lurch of his chest, the sinking in his gut.

He couldn't ignore it, the twitch of his jaw when he'd let his guard down and snuck glances at her neck. What was he hoping to find there anyway? More marks? Or was he hoping to find a blank canvas, the silk of her skin untouched, the possibilities of tracing his own lips down the curve of her neck-

No.

Her voice snapped him out of his tortured thoughts.

"Severus?" She spoke. "You alright?"

They were sitting in her office on a Friday night, a rather recent development in their "friendship" that Severus was unsure how he felt.

He blinked, met her gaze and then looked back at the fire, sipping his tea and putting his Occlumency shields back up, cursing himself at the fact he'd let them fall.

"Yes." He said, his voice low.

And that was when she did it, she touched him. Gently, as if he was something fragile, something delicate that could break under her soft fingertips. And Merlin, the feeling nearly made him gasp out loud. He tore his gaze from her hand placed on his left forearm and looked into her eyes for longer than he had in quite some time.

Her lips curled into a soft smile. "You know Severus.. I know these past few months have been chaotic, with the tournament, but I think you're dealing quite well."

Severus blinked. She didn't know of the darkening tattoo under her very fingertips. What did she know about what he was dealing with? What did she know about anything that he had ever dealt with? Who was she to say he was... doing well?

Why did a heat begin to grow in his lower abdomenon? Why did her touch feel heavier on that cursed mark? Why crave her to say it again?

She pulled her delicate touch away as if it was a fleeting, minute thing that had never meant to be anything more than what it was.

Friendship.

That night, Severus let the door to his chamber slam shut behind him. He detatched the cloak from his robes and hung it on the door, reaching his bedroom in a few quick strides and letting that door slam shut as well.

As soon as he was alone, truly alone, he sunk down on the bed.

He may not have been not the most emotionally intune, but he was intelligent. Severus was no fool to longing. He had, afterall, longed for his whole life. But the feeling possessing him now; the raw, burning in his chest when he looked at her, the way his chest fluttered..

It wasn't the longing he was afraid of. It was the hope.

The smile on her face as she looked at him, as if he was something as bright as she was... The gentle tone of her voice as she coaxed more and more information out of his guarded frame then he'd care to admit..

It was the hope that all these things were her desiring him.

Severus ran his hands through his hair. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried desperetely to ignore the restlessness inside him.

What was he doing? He was a man of control, a skilled Occlumens, able to lie straight to the face of the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale, and yet here he was, in the suffocating darkness of his lonely chamber that had never bothered him until now, feeling absolutely on fire.

Was that what it took to break him? A man of his talents reduced to a fluttering, pathetic mess at the mere, single touch of a pretty woman?

The heat in his lower abdomen was not foreign, but it was unwelcome all the less. Of course he knew sexual desire. It wasn't as if he hadn't indulged before.. Occasional, late nights where he had lost control.. Where he'd succumbed to the feeling of his right hand in his trousers. It was the shame afterwards, the disgust for himself that prevented him from making it a regular habit.

In fact, now that he thought of it... When was the last time he had allowed himself release?

Certainly it had been awhile since he felt such... Yearning. And certainly he'd never felt it to such degree before but thinking of it now, his head in his hands, Severus relised it had been years.

Years.

The pent up tension, the reemergence of past lust he thought he'd long buried, the sheer strength of it this time was enough to make him begin to pace in his room.

Breathing through gritted teeth, he paced in circles, running his hands through the strands of raven hair. This need was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Lust and hope combined was never something he'd experienced together.

Would those same lips that are always smiling at his sarcastic remarks kiss his? How would she taste? Would she kiss him softly, gently? Succumb to the power imbalences between them?

Or..

Would she kiss him hungrily? Would she take control, weaving her soft fingers through his hair and tugging? Would her lips whisper praises like the one she'd said that day?

Severus groaned, sitting back down on the bed. He'd never craved to be... taken like this. He'd had fantasies of course, things he thought of on the rare occasions he indulged in his need, all ideas of exercising the control he so often craved.

And yet now, feeling so powerless, so torn, it began to dawn on him that that's what he craved... To be freed from the guilt of his own desires. Have any sembelence of control taken so far from him he could do nothing but take it, take her.

He couldn't ignore the strain in his trousers. It had been so long...

He shifted his weight, not trusting his fraying control enough to get into proper sleepwear, he layed down on his back on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and trying desperately to ignore the aching in his groin.

It'd been so.... long..

"No." He murmered, but the word came out weak.

No, he thought to himself, Absolutely not.

Severus rolled onto his side, trying desperetely just to close his eyes and beacon forth the sleep he knew wouldn't come. He knew deep down, he could just take a simple sleeping potion, it wouldn't be the first time.

But as he shifted, he felt the strain of his cock in his trousers brush against the firm matrress. Almost immediately his breath hitched. His slender fingers tightened around the messy sheets, his jaw clenched.

Every muscle in his tired body seemed to clench. It didn't help that all his mind could so was replay that moment over and over again. The weight of her hand on his forearm... The way she looked up at him so gently.. Her words... What was it she had said? He was handling it... Well?

She had praised him.

Pathetic. He thought, letting out a sharp exhale. A mere compliment she hadn't thought twice of was his undoing?

But the voice in the back of his mind, the one that had begun to threaten his control, whispered: "What if she had meant it? What if she had meant more?"

And it was this hope, this foolish hope he hadn't allowed himself to indulge in years that seemed to set him on fire.

He stared at the wall of his dark chamber. Even in the night of his room, he never felt safe from the invisible eyes of others, not even his own.

If he.. indulged... How could he look at himself in the mirror?

How could he look at her?

But the weight of her touch on his arm was a heavy burden his mind couldn't afford to ignore. Every shift of his weight on the bed sent a spark up his spine, every minute, tiny brush of the sheets against his cock made it throb.

Sleep.

Sleep would not find him. He laid completely still for what felt like an eternity, and yet the ache in his pants would not go away. It only seemed to grow stronger.

Frustrated, Severus rolled over to his stomach and immedietly let out a sharp hiss. The friction between his clothed groin and the mattress sent a bolt of pleasure up him he hadn't felt in years.

He'd forgotten what pleasure could feel like.

And for the first time in a long time, Severus acted without thinking. His hips rolled almost involuntarily against the mattress, a single, simple grinding motion that drew another ragged gasp from his lips.

Another jolt... Another roll of his hips...

Remembering the constant feeling of eyes on him, he buried his face in the pillow and stopped his movements all together.

What the fuck was he doing?

It wasn't just the burning desire, or the pleasure of friction he'd so long denied himself. It was the exhaustion. He was tired. Tired of being in control over everything in his life, day after day, year after year. Tired of fighting that clench in his gut that he felt everytime she looked up at him. Tired of refusing to be selfish.

He tore his head from the pillow, reaching both hands up to grasp the sheets around it.

"Fuck it." He whispered to himself.

He didn't fight the next wave of pleasure that crashed over him as he rolled his hips against the mattress again. The sigh that lleft his lips left so on his own accord. As if his whispered permission was enough for all reason to flee him, he began to grind his clothed erection against the firm mattress again, his movements still slow, but deliberate.

God.. It had been... So.... Long...

He began to pant, short, quick breaths coming out quickly as his movements picked up pace. The pleasure that each thrust sent through him could have been enough to pull him over the edge, but it wasn't enough for him.

He had to feel it... Just once, just this once and then he could go back to whatever sense of celibacy he had adopted over the years. Just for tonight, he had to feel it.

Severus propped himself up on one elbow and used his other hand to unbutton his trousers. His fingers hastly unzipped it, reaching into his boxers as if he unconciously feared his mind may deny himself again if he allowed it the time to.

The very second his fingers wrapped themselves around his cock he gasped. The sound was ragged, strained as he pulled himself out, pushing down his trousers and boxers the very least he could. The cold dungeon air of his bed chamber immediately contrasted against the warmth of his skin and even that simple sensation felt as though it had been amplified.

Without wasting a second, Severus tore his hand away to join his other in gripping the sheets and began to buck his bare erection against the mattress.

Another torn gasp. Another shudder. His fingers tightened their grip around the sheets, his hips rolling faster, feverishly in time with his panting.

"Fuck," He hissed, his head falling down against the pillow as he moved.

He could still feel it. Her touch on his left forearm.

And perhaps thats what drove his next action. It certainly wasn't reason, or shame, those things he had so long clung onto having abandoned him. He tossed, rolling over to his side and began to pump his cock with his left hand.

It wasn't his dominant hand, but he used it none the less. Shamelessly bucking his hips against his fist, his grip tight as he stroked himself desperately. Deep down he knew that the only thing on top that forearm in that moment was the Dark Mark, but the only thing he felt, was her hand.

He imagined her touch again. Her soft fingers on his clothed skin. Gods.. What would it feel like without any barriers whatsoever? What would it feel like to have her fingers trail up that arm, down his chest, his abdomen-

"Fuck," He grunted, louder this time as his grip on his cock tightened and his hips continued to buck against his hand, "Fuck."

With his eyes screwed shut, Severus pictured her eyes staring back up at him as she whispered more praises. What he would do to hear more of them... What he would do to coax those words from her lips, no, what he would do to make her moan them.. If he was inside her, if it was his cock, his movements, making her praise him...

His control snapped. In an instant he moved, thoughtless, completely slave to the desires he'd repressed for so long; he pushed himself up, bunching the sheets up and bringing them under his hips.

Without thinking, Severus took his cock in his right hand and lined it up with the crease of the rolled up sheets and pushed in.

"Shit!" He hissed, his head collapsing against them as he supported his weight on his left forearm. His other arm reached down to hold the sheets steady as he began to fuck them shamelessly.

The gasps that flew from his lips were sinfully loud, a string of curses and her name as he chased the release he'd denied himself for so long. He pictured her body beneath him, the possibilities of feeling so much more of her soft skin. How her walls would welcome him... Wet and warm around his cock, how those delicate hands would cling to him as she looked up at him with those bright eyes that seemed to only see good in him.

And stars, did he want to be good for her.

"You're doing so well, Severus," Her voice rang out in his mind as he screwed his eyes shut, "Feels so good..."

His breath coming in quick short gasps, his grip on the sheets tightened even further, his knuckles white. The headboard creeked against the stone wall with every thrust of his hips, but the only thing in his mind was her voice. That wretched, soft, voice..

"Severus!" She moaned in his mind. His name, on her lips. He was coaxing those moans. He was giving her that pleasure.

What would it feel like to give her more? What would it feel like to watch her face as she came around him? He'd read about sex, sure. Heard about it, in the boys dorms in school, from Lucius' wild adventures, from the Death Eaters. But what would it feel like to have her come for him? The tightening of her around him, the sound of his name on her lips as she gushed arou-

The thought was too much for him to bear. Soft, high whimpers flew from his quivering lips as he came into the sheets. The orgasm crashed over him seemingly out of nowhere fast enough that he wasn't prepared for it. His entire body shook, hips faltering and chest heaving as he thrusted sloppily into the sheets as he filled them with his cum.

Her name left his mouth like a broken prayer, chanted breathlessly, even as his thrusts slowed down and he stilled against the sheets.

Severus panted, sweat clinging to his forehead, his raven hair. For as long as he could, he lay completely still against the messy sheets, almost frightened to move and face what he had done.

When he finally did open his eyes, he pushed himself up on shaky arms to look down. The black sheets were painted white with his cum, glistening in the faint glow of the room.

Not bearing to look at it any longer, he reached for his wand and cleaned up the evidence. Tossing it to the side, he shoved his softening cock back in his trousers and collapsed on the once again clean sheets to stare at the ceiling.

Shame and guilt coursed through the back of his mind, but at the forefront of it all, was the absolute sheer exhaustion.

The prayer in his mind was only her name, the scripture only her praise. He drifted off begging, to who, he wasn't sure. But for the first time, in years, Severus slept peacefully.

~

well im sorry that was seven decades long. haven't yall had a pretty lady touch you once and then immediately gone feral?

no?

just me?

oh

~

taglist:

@graciesbow @niftysnazzy @plecosylvia @dark-st  @3hrysfiction-blog @ilovegrapes-world @darkvoidz @lexiitaylorrrr @theheartwants-what-itwants **@aperol-with-izzy **@herbologygremlin @kittenlittle24 @aleck-cross

[hauntedhouseghost]

Misogyny in Shifting Criticism

If you’ve heard about “Reality Shifting” but (like me) aren’t yourself involved in the community, it’s probably been presented to you as a TikTok trend amongst teenage girls obsessed with Harry Potter that emerged in response to the COVID-19 lockdown in 2020. The most generous critics have framed it as an online game of pretend amongst bored quarantined teenagers; the harshest have sounded the alarm that reality shifting is a psychosis. This alarmist reaction to a trend amongst teenage girls exploring their sexuality through such a benign thing as fantasizing about Draco Malfoy was suspicious. I thought they were wrong, but I didn’t know enough about Shifting to know for sure. 

Social media in general seems to have become increasingly conservative since 2020. I see Dark Academia and Cottagecore as connected to today’s BookTok and Trad Wife (through shared aesthetics and hobbies), both of which have been criticized as anti-feminist and anti-intellectual. I wanted to see if Shifting would fit into that pattern and have a more conservative 2024 offshoot. After learning more about Shifting, I have found that:

As expected, shifting criticism is almost always laced with misogyny

It doesn’t have a conservative offshoot, but it is ideologically connected to New Ageism and the “conspirituality” wave that has swelled since COVID first hit. 

Misogyny in Discussions of Shifting

People always shit on whatever teenage girls are into, and this is just another example of that. The mindset that teenage girls are vapid/gross/stupid/etc has misinterpreted Shifting as a solo endeavor, a TikTok trend, and a mental illness. Here’s why they’re wrong:

Even though people might practice Shifting alone, it’s still a very communal practice. As researcher Sarah Perez writes:

“...to call reality shifting ‘solitary’ misses the continuous exchange of stories, tips, motivational messages and more…—making the practice highly social” (“Through the Looking Glass” 298).

Connecting to the above: “shifter” refers to anyone who believes in and practices shifting, not just people who have themselves shifted. Researcher Sara A. Kumar found that only 78.7% of self-identified shifters have experienced a successful shift (“Through the Looking Glass,” 299). 

While shifting does involve seeing/hearing/smelling/feeling/etc things that others cannot, those experiences only happen when a person intends them to. In psychotic disorders, people cannot control their engagement with/break from reality. 

Lots of religions have developed within fandoms online. Others have focused on Jedis, the Matrix, or The Lord of the Rings. What sets shifting apart is its association with young women. Interestingly, another fandom religion that got mocked a lot is SnapeWives. Also, Snape is probably appealing for very similar reasons as Draco—both are quite tortured and feminine-coded—but that's a separate tangent.

I was looking at YouTube shifting criticism and found this gem:

What's fascinating is that this guy's whole account is dedicated to videos about lucid dreaming!!! In this video, he calls [air quotes] “reality shifters” "weird," "insane," and "fucking annoying" and says “Reality shifting is just bullshit, it’s just a dream" (1:30-34). He characterizes shifters as all wanting to go to Hogwarts and “fuck Draco Malfoy” (at 1:15-17). The top comment reads: “Reality shifting is the astrology of lucid dreaming.” Astrology is another New Age spiritualist belief that is generally disparaged by outsiders and is also associated with young women. However, as a wise person once Twote:

With shifting, could we say that lucid dreaming is the version of “reality shifting” that is acceptable to men?

6. Another video I found is called “'Reality Shifting': How the Tiktok Teens are Giving Themselves Psychosis” (by Nicholas Black). In this, the YouTuber says (at 2:04-16) “It was a TikTok on Reels with a teenage girl claiming that she shifted realities so she could become Draco’s girlfriend.” He then shows a video along those lines, and afterwards says “You can imagine I was concerned.” Other videos on his page are titled in similarly misogynistic and panicky ways:

“Are Booktok girlies “corn” addicts?”

“Instagram won’t stop recommending me Tradwife Reels”

“When TikTok users get ahold of words they don’t understand”. The example of such a word given in the thumbnail is “Male Gaze,” which is connected by an arrow to the winking eye of a stock image white man. Beside this is the text: “Please actually read Laura Mulvey’s theory. I’m begging you.”

All of these position him as superior to whoever his video focuses on, and he seems to focus on women/women's sub-cultures a lot.

New Age & Philosophical Roots

Western philosophy focuses on skepticism, as in Descartes’s “I think, therefore I am.” This idea that our perception of reality is uncertain underlies conspiracy thinking (ex: QAnon), vaccine denialism, and reality shifting.

Authors Beres, Remski, and Walker coined the term "conspirituality" to refer to the combo of conspiracy thinking and New Age spirituality (think: QAnon believers who rely on healing crystals to protect themselves from COVID and psychic vampires or whatever). They define the central tenets of conspirituality as:

Nothing happens by accident

Nothing is as it seems

Everything is connected

In “Granola Fascism” (ContraPoints, at 37:51-38:06) she says, “New Age and conspiracy thinking share a hunger for meaning. They feel that all of reality should be comprehensible to the intuition of any individual human mind. This is a way of seeing that is epistemically empowering.” These emotional needs that drive people to conspiracy theorizing also drive young people to ShiftTok (and shifting content elsewhere). Of course, there are other appeals of ShiftTok - creative expression, escapism, community. Those and its main demographic are what distinguish ShiftTok, but at its core is still this search for narrative meaning and agency.

How psychologically different really are shifting and ideas about the “deep state”? What differentiates them is their emotional ~flavor~. QAnon believers of a secret deep state cabal of pedophiles craft a reality around soothing fear. Shifting can craft realities around soothing depression and hopelessness. They are both removals from, not engagements in, reality. Some shifters’ Desired Reality is just like this one, but without climate change, or just like this one, but with their family unaffected by depression. In response to the question “Why do people come back to their cr?” one Redditor said this:

Conclusion!!!

Shifting is actually super interesting!

Fandoms generate actual religions/spiritual practices that aren't any less plausible than older, established religions

Teenage girls can't do anything without people pathologizing it or acting like it's freakish and bad