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jokeringcutio · 11 days

Note

Hi, I saw you also write for Snape and wanted to request something :3

Snape x Professor!fem!reader

She’s crushing on him for a long time and now that she’s back at Hogwarts she has a lot of inappropriate thoughts about the potions master and her strange behavior prompts him to read her mind. Can go into smut from there, but it’s not a must :3

Love your stories <3

Rating: Mature (Slightly explicit, but decent I think? Rather vanilla) Severus Snape x Professor!Reader, Drabble/Ficlet. Word count: 3778

AN: <3 I can write something more smutty in the future, but this was all that came out right now. Hope you like :) For more [ x ]

A soft, warm beam of light filtered into the room, illuminating the desk's surface. You shuffled through the assortment of Muggle artifacts on your desk, arranging them meticulously for today's lesson. A vintage camera, a worn paperback novel, a tangled mass of headphones—each item a mystery to your students at Hogwarts. As you reached for a battery-operated torch, your gaze flickered to the doorway, catching sight of the imposing figure of Professor Snape gliding past.

Tall. Cold. Unreachable.

Your fingers betrayed you, fumbling with the torch until it clattered onto the stone floor with an unforgiving echo. You cursed softly, stooping to retrieve it while your heart hammered in your chest.

"Clumsy," you chastised yourself under your breath, the word barely a whisper.

Snape halted mid-stride, his sharp senses tuned to your nervous rustle. The air grew thick, charged. You felt his dark eyes on you, piercing, as if he could unravel the very fabric of your thoughts with just one glance.

"Focus," you willed silently, placing the torch back onto the desk with practiced care.

But you knew he was there, statuesque in the hallway, listening. Your pulse quickened, and you strained to appear composed as you arranged the last of the muggle oddities before you. It was a dance of pretense, each movement deliberate, masking the turmoil within.

Don’t come and look, your mind whispered. Come and look, please – the other voice inside of you urged. You wanted to catch a glimpse of him, the mere thought making you hot all over.

"Get a grip," you muttered again, despising how his mere presence reduced you to this. You were nothing more but a bundle of nerves wrapped in a thin veneer of professionalism. Well, that thin layer of professionalism easily slipped away as you stubbed your toe against the leg of the desk and grunted.

You were leaning onto the desk when a creaking noise caught your attention. And there he was, standing in the doorway, his foot on the threshold, black shoe shimmering in the morning glow. His looming silhouette was dark against the pale light of the corridor.

You froze, heart stuttering.

"Is everything all right?" The words slithered from his lips, low and nasally, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"Everything's fine," you lied, your voice steady despite the tremble in your legs. His voice snaked through your mind, stoking flames where there should be only ash.

Dark eyes, as black as coals, pierced you but showed no judgment. His pale hand rested on the door handle. His professor’s robes fell around him like he was a statue carved by the finest hands in town, his polished shoes peeking out from underneath and betraying that he stood with his legs parted – one foot in front of the other, ready to come to your aid.

Don’t think too much about it, you scolded yourself mentally. He’d do this for any colleague. Don’t overthink things.

But your weak knees betrayed you, buckling as if they too wish to bow to the power he wields effortlessly. Unchaste thoughts clawed at the edges of your consciousness, seeking purchase. You forced them back, ruthlessly.

Stop undressing him mentally. It was easier said than done.

He lifted a brow. Was he doubting your words?

“I’m fine,” you said again, picking up the torch and showing it to him. “Just accidentally dropped this.”

The slightest arch of his brow communicated volumes more than words could muster. Yeah, he was skeptical. But was it because of the muggle tool you were holding? You knew he seemed to show disdain for the muggle kind. The people who are so much like wizards and witches. The ones you grew up with.

Did he hate you for it?

He must. Oh, there you went again, talking yourself down. There was no way your colleague would reciprocate your feelings. Your pulse hammered, echoing in the hollow of your throat. Could he hear it? Did he know? Did he know about your crush on him?

"Very well." Snape's reply was a ghostly caress, sending ripples across the tense air between you.

When he finally turned away, you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding, the soft swish of his robes a whisper of mercy. You watched his back as he walked away – so gracefully. The way his robes swooshed around him. It made you think of all that was hidden underneath.

You quickly looked aside, cheeks aflame because you should not hold such thoughts. Not when class was about to start.

Students began to trickle in, their chatter a mundane balm to the chaos Snape had left in his wake. You silently begged your face not to betray the inferno the other professor had ignited within you - how flushed you felt, how utterly disarmed.

The other professors would think you were mental for falling for the icy man’s charm. The greasy hair, the sallow skin, the grumpy exterior, the slight pudgy belly hidden underneath the robes.

The huge bulge camouflaged by those tight black pants.

"Professor?" one student inquired, sensing an undercurrent they could not grasp.

"I have something fun prepared for you today," you quickly said, putting on a false smile and hoping you could distract your students before they would start asking any inconvenient questions. You needed to distract them – and to distract yourself as well.

It was time for lunch, which meant that everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. You stood in line to grab your portion of food – it was a buffet today and you were determined to stretch your legs a little. As was your colleague Samintha, the Divination teacher, and your friend. It had been easy, you were both about the same age. And she wasn’t a stranger to muggles either.

Your eyes raked past the buffet, its grandeur a stark contrast to the churning in your gut. Beside you, Samintha’s voice was a steady hum against the backdrop of clinking utensils and mingling conversations. You reached for your goblet – the seemingly never-ending waterfall of juice had filled it to the brim – when Samintha leaned closer, her breath warm on your ear. “Snape’s been eyeing you,” she murmured, each word igniting a spark of nerves that danced along your spine.

Your heart pounded as your gaze swept the room, seeking him out. There he was, shadowed at the far end of the professor’s table, his dark eyes piercing through the throng. The moment you met his stare, he turned away, just as quickly as you could blink.

You had caught him looking at you, right? That hadn’t been just your imagination – or wishful thinking, whatever you wanted to call it. Samintha had seen it, so it must have been real.

A rush of heat surged through you, making your fingers tremble.

The goblet slipped from your grasp, the clang of metal striking stone echoing louder than it should have. Heads turned, eyes probed. You knelt, snatching the goblet up with shaking hands, cheeks burning under the weight of scrutiny. Snape’s gaze was a tangible presence, even as he pretended indifference.

"Merlin's beard, I'm sorry," you stammered to Samintha once you came up again, the goblet tightly in your hands but unfortunately all empty. You pushed it under the juice fountain again.

Her knowing glance sent another shiver through you, but you pushed it aside, following her to the professor's table.

You saw the empty seat next to Snape and your heart skipped. His dark, brooding presence was a magnetic force pulling you in. But not today. Not here. You grabbed Samintha's arm, guiding her to the far end of the table, away from him.

"Here’s good," you mumbled, trying to ignore the heat crawling up your neck.

"Really?" Samintha’s eyebrow arched, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Yes," you hissed back, dropping into the seat. But the pull was still there. You felt his eyes before you even looked up. And when you did, oh, how they pierced through you—black, intense, like he could read every inappropriate thought you ever had about him.

Your pulse quickened, head pounding. The world blurred for a second as you flinched, hand reaching to massage your temples. Any improper fantasy you had about him faded because of the dull pain. Now you were just worrying if you had hit your head.

"Headache?" Samintha asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Yeah," you said, forcing a weak smile. "Just... tired."

"Sure," she said, but her eyes told you she knew better. She glanced at Snape, then back at you, and smirked.

Another professor leaned toward Snape to ask him a question. The connection broke. Snape looked away, engaged in conversation with another professor, and just like that, the headache vanished. Relief washed over you, but only for a moment. Your mind drifted, unbidden, back to him. To the way his hands moved with precision, his voice a soft menace commanding respect, admiration.

"You're staring again," Samintha whispered, snapping you back to reality.

"Sorry," you muttered.

"Honestly," she chuckled, leaning closer, "you can do better than Snape. What about Professor Gladwood? He's charming in his own way. Or perhaps Professor Lupin? I've heard he's quite the romantic."

"Stop it," you laughed nervously, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

"Just saying," she teased, winking. "Plenty of fish in the sea."

"None like him," you murmured under your breath, more to yourself than to her. But she heard, and her knowing look made your cheeks burn.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But sometimes, the most dangerous catch isn’t worth the risk."

You sighed, turning your attention back to your plate, pretending to listen to the conversations around you. Yet your thoughts kept drifting back to Severus Snape, the man who haunted your dreams and your waking hours, filling them with a dangerous, intoxicating allure.

"Maybe you should consider Hagrid," Samintha quipped, dragging you out of your fantasies and back to the present because – did you just hear her correctly?

You turned toward her with eyes wide.

“Oh yeah,” she continued, her voice dripping with playful mischief. “Give me a big man any day.”

You choked on your juice, the liquid threatening to spill from the goblet clutched in your hand. "What?" you spluttered, a mix of shock and amusement coloring your tone.

"Well," she continued, her eyes sparkling with laughter, "he’s got that rugged charm. And I hear he’s quite gentle despite his size."

"That's... that's completely inappropriate!" you hissed, trying to regain your composure. Heat flushed through your cheeks as you darted a glance around, praying no one overheard. You couldn’t help the thoughts that emerged at the way Samintha had phrased that. But instead of the bearded giant, it was a different colleague you saw. One with pale skin and black hair.

"We're supposed to be professional here," you hissed.

"Relax," Samintha grinned, unperturbed. "It's just a bit of fun. Besides, you need to lighten up. You're so wound up over Snape, it's like you're spellbound."

"He's... different," you murmured, struggling for words. The memory of his intense gaze lingered, burning into your thoughts. "But still, we shouldn't talk about our colleagues like that."

"Fine, fine," she relented, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I'll behave. For now."

You sighed, letting the tension ease from your shoulders, but the tumult of emotions remained. You pushed your plate away, appetite lost amidst the swirling confusion of your feelings. The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, but it all seemed distant, muffled by the pounding of your heart.

The clock chimes - the signal. Lunch is over. Time marches on, relentless.

"Time to get back to reality," you said softly, standing up and smoothing out your robes. Samintha followed suit, her expression turning serious.

"Right. Classes won't teach themselves," she replied, though her eyes twinkled with residual amusement.

Together, you walked out of the Great Hall, the lively atmosphere fading behind you.

The last student had scurried out, the echo of footsteps fading into nothingness. You stood there, alone, studying the items that lay on the desk in front of you. You slowly reached for them, stuffing them back into your bag that could fit it all. The air was heavy with the dense silence of an empty classroom.

A curl of unease twisted inside you, a serpent coiling tight. It began as a whisper at the base of your skull - a dull throb that quickened as you moved about the room. Your thoughts drifted to him - Severus Snape - his image hovering at the edges of your consciousness like a specter.

You had felt this headache before, during lunch. When he had been looking at you.

Just the thought of him was enough to let the heavy burn of arousal flood through your body. A slight throbbing appeared at your core and you squeezed your legs together, biting your bottom lip to subdue a moan.

Your thoughts were racing widely now: from admiring Snape’s physique to wondering what was hidden beneath those robes – and all the things he could do to you.

No. All the things you wanted him to do to you.

Your fingers traced the soft cover of a textbook that was lying on your desk while you bit back a moan. Your breath stuttered, chest heaving heavily as your core grew hot and slick. It was a daydream, a little fantasy, but imagining that he wouldn’t care about your muggle past and reach out to those strong veined hands and touch you – it was enough to get you hot and bothered.

The textbook fell, tumbled to the floor, and you bent to pick it up. The headache surged, sharp and insistent. A signal. You looked up.

You hadn’t noticed him standing there. hadn't noticed the tall, dark figure lingering in the doorway. But he was watching – the shadowed gaze piercing through the veil of your obliviousness.

His eyes met yours. Black holes pulling you in. No escape.

"Snape," you breathed, unsteady. “Severus.”

The world narrowed to the space between you and him. Heat bloomed beneath your skin. Thoughts unbidden, desires unchained. To feel those strong masculine hands on you, the brush of his lips against your throat. To melt into him, to taste the hidden fires you knew raged beneath that icy exterior.

His eyes darkened, a storm gathering behind the calm.

"Professor?" Your voice was a husky whisper, shattering the silence, betraying you once more.

He didn't move, didn't speak. Just stood there, an enigma cloaked in black. But his eyes—they spoke volumes. They devoured your every thought, every secret wish painted starkly in the depths of those fathomless pools.

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt, the staggering understanding that he had been in your mind. "You've been using Legilimency," you accused, eyes narrowed as they met his obsidian gaze.

"Indeed," Snape replied, his voice betraying no emotion.

"You know... about my feelings," you continued, voice steady even as your pulse raced.

"I do."

There was a power in standing your ground, in facing him head-on. "Well, then," you said, chin lifted defiantly. "You might expect an apology for the thoughts that you were privy to,” you started, swallowing hard. “But I won’t apologize. Those thoughts were mine. My desires. My fantasies. I won’t change them, as they should have been private.”

You cast Snape a silent glare.

"Then I shall not apologize for having read them," he confessed, and you noted the rare hint of sincerity in his voice. It was barely a whisper, but his approach spoke louder than any words could. He closed the distance between you, coming to a halt mere inches away. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating in the way it filled every inch of space around you.

Heat bloomed across your skin, an inferno stoked by his nearness. You swallowed hard, feeling the warmth spread, unbidden. Wanted. Your breath came in shallow gasps, betraying the composure you fought so hard to maintain.

"Your feelings..." His voice trailed off as if he were contemplating the weight of them, measuring their worth.

"Are mine," you reaffirmed, your heart hammering against your ribs as you held his gaze, refusing to look away, to cower.

A small smirk tucked at the corners of his lips while his dark eyes studied you. “I find them…” he started, voice low and nasal, words pausing just at that odd interval - a habit he was inclined to which you found endearing and incredibly arousing.

“Enticing,” he finally finished.

You didn't have time to respond. His lips crashed onto yours, a storm you never saw coming. Instinctively, your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, desperate for the warmth of him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the greasy strands slipping through like threads of night. The kiss deepened, his mouth moving over yours with a hunger that mirrored the chaos within you.

Finally, you pull away to catch your breath, panting. His eyes were like abysses filled with something primal. Darker. Deeper. You knew that look. It was desire, raw and unmasked.

"You want me," you gasped out, breathless and bold.

"Intensely," he murmured against your lips before claiming them once more.

His kiss was a brand, searing into your very essence. There was no turning back.

His hands slid up your spine, fingers digging into the fabric of your robes, curling with want. His dark pupils were blown with need.

You grasped onto him, curled around him, arched your back until you were fitted against him upon your desk – precious muggle artifacts scattered to the floor but you held no care for them. Right now, your focus was on the man in your arms.

Open-mouthed kisses trailed down his neck, nuzzling the collar aside. A low whisper from his lips indicated he cast a spell. First, one to close the door and keep it locked. Then, one to seal off the room and keep any sounds trapped inside.

Had you not been so distracted, you might have been impressed with the ease with which he cast them. The cold and smooth exterior of his wand slithered past your hand as he tried to tuck it away, back into the pocket of his robe. He then hastily helped you undo the buttons, fingers deftly aiding you in pushing the garment off his shoulders and his blouse unbuttoned until his chest was exposed.

Another kiss, teeth against teeth, and before long, you felt his skin against your own. Breaths mingling, the world narrowed to the space between bodies. Fingers roamed, explored territories marked with whispers and urgency. Heat bloomed where flesh met flesh, where whispers turned into gasps, where control slipped through fingers like water.

His body fit against yours perfectly, his parted lips in a silent gasp accompanied the moment when he bottomed out, pushing you up against the desk in a breathless sigh. You allowed him to take control momentarily, to thrust shallowly into your core, then driving deeper and harder with each deliberate stroke.

Wet sounds filled the room as he took up the pace, leaning over you, panting and gasping. A true sight to behold. His face contorted in pleasure, eyes dark and lips parted. Little droplets of sweat fell from his hair as the love-making grew more intense, more feverish. You dug your heels into his back, trapping him, encouraging him, taking delight in his pleased growls, and picked up the pace until he was hitting the right spot – again and again – until he tipped you over the edge.

You clawed at his back, curling your body in delight as you came down from your high. A few more thrusts and Snape followed, a warmth flooding you deep inside. In the afterglow, you snuggled close to him and gently patted his back, humming delightfully. The mentioning of your name had you gaze up at him.

"I dare say,” he started, still breathless but already regaining his posture. “I don’t mind your thoughts half as much," a voice like sin coaxed from his lips, each syllable a silken thread wrapping around your heart. The room spun, dizzy with desire, walls echoing with the soft rustle of fabric.

You adjusted your skirt, hands trembling - fingers brushing the fabric back into a semblance of propriety. Snape's hands were deft as he smoothed his robes, movements precise, erasing evidence of transgressions with practiced ease. Your chest heaved, trying to calm the storm within you.

A soft whisper and the spell that had cloaked the two of you in privacy fell. You turned to look at your colleague, carefully flashing him a smile. He stood, holding his wand, the tip gently glowing after undoing the effects of his spells. Then he tucked it away again and gave you another intense stare.

There was hunger still there. A hunger that needed to be stilled. But there was also something else; a spark of something gentler you couldn’t quite name.

“Well,” he started, voice low and nasal but still rough around the edges – betraying your intimacy only moments before.

The door creaked - a harbinger of reality - as students filed in, their eyes curious, questioning. They glanced from you to him, skepticism etched onto young faces. You held your breath, felt it catch in your throat.

What was it that he had wanted to say?

"Professor," Snape's voice was cool, detached, a masterful performance. He nodded at you, the gesture measured, controlled, before striding towards the door. His walk was casual, almost too casual, but his eyes told a different story: one of shared secrets and silent promises.

This wouldn’t be the only time.

The thought thrilled you that you might be doing this again with him, someday soon. But you couldn’t get too excited in front of your students.

He left. The air changed, charged with unsaid words, with suspicion. The students exchanged glances, unspoken thoughts passing between them like currents in a secret ocean.

"What was Professor Snape doing here…?" one dared to ask, voice trailing off, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Consulting on an assignment," you lied smoothly, brushing an errant strand of hair behind your ear, hoping they missed the tremor in your fingers. "Now, please, focus on your project."

Their gazes lingered, weighing, measuring. But they turned away, whispers swallowed by the clatter of books and the scratch of quills on parchment.

Your secret tryst with Snape was still a secret, for now. But you were eager to encounter your fellow professor in private once more. No matter what the other teachers at Hogwarts might think about him…you were eager to have him as yours – and keep him.

#Snape x Reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #Severus Snape #Severus Snape x Professor!Reader #Professor at Hogwarts #Fanfiction #Prompt Fill

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willwediejustalittle · 25 days

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hii i saw you take art prompts!!!! If you're interested in maybe reading something for art inspiration, i can recommend this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614609 !!!! :33 My head has been FULL of snape camping, going hiking and fishing and i am going positively insane. Alternatively, how would you feel about rock climber!snape??

I haven’t read that fic in forever, thanks for reminding me of it! I’ll keep rock climber!Snape in mind for future anatomy practice :D

Fic is “A-Camping We Will Go” by @silvereye5

#I got an ask!!!!#an ask!!#me!!!#made my day #severus snape #harry potter #fanart #pro snape #snape #hp #severus snape fanart #snart #snape fanart #snape community #snapedom #art prompt #sketch

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yvieliny · 7 months

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MARAUDERS

Shit my friends have said pt3.

Barty, Evan, Regulus and Severus on an road trip (Evan is Driving , Barty is the co-pilot leaving Regulus and Severus in the back)

Night time 2:50 am

Regulus: There is no way this is fucking happening right now (Regulus said removing his headphone)

Barty turns to look at the back seat: Well I am fucking sorry, how was I supposed to know how far 5 meters where?

Evan: Everyone calm down look there is a gas station up ahead let’s stop and ask for directions

Severus highly annoyed: So we are fucking lost in the middle of nowhere , with no cell service and a creepy ass gas station that looks from the 1600s and you idiots want to “stop and ask for directions” ??!!

Evan and Barty look at each other before nodding : Yeah

Severus : Idiots you both are fucking idiots , this is the type of shit that occurs in Horror movies

Barty: Don’t worry the virgins always survive in Horror movies

Regulus smirks: And the horny slut is the first to go so, don’t worry Barty we will have a nice cock filled funeral for you

Barty sticks his middle finger out

Evan: Fine let’s just turn and go back where we came from even if it is highly illegal since it is a one way road but fine

Severus: So our options are doing something ilegal or dying? Damn this is why my mom worry’s when I go out with my friends

Evan: Holy shit Sev, you got friends?

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thetorturedpoetsintern · 3 months

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You: You're too stressed lately, my love, let me help you relax *goes to kneel in front of him and slightly parts his thighs*

Severus:

#the hamster meme was inevitable with sev from the moment i first saw it #youre free to come up with your own prompts when reblogging this post #severus snape #pro snape #snapedom

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superfallingstars · 8 months

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Snapetober Day 3: Path

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marauders-rarepair-fics · 2 months

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List of Prompts for May 2024 Marauders Rarepair Microfics

These microfics are no-commitment, no-pressure, daily prompts for those that want to have a crack at writing, want to spread some love to their rarepair (poly ships are cool too) favs, and those who enjoy writing microfics or following prompts! All rarepairs are welcome, no matter how whacky (with the exception of incest and pedophilia). Pick a prompt that inspires you to put your ships in a fun little situation and write away! Tag us and use the hashtag “#marauders rarepair microfic”.

Have fun with these prompts, get inspired to write, draw, make playlists, create mood boards, edits, collages, or anything involving your rarepairs to spread your love for them. NSFW is cool, but please make sure everything is tagged correctly and plenty of warning is provided.

Late submissions are A-okay. Feel free to interpret the prompts however you like, the theme is only there to aid if you’d like, and to make things a little more fun :)

Posting starts May 1st. Have fun creating, can’t wait to see whatever you all come up with!

Previous months prompt list + Rules, guidelines & FAQ's + AO3 collection information

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7s3ven · 10 months

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OBSESSION. tom riddle x fem! reader.

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom Riddle is partnered with a Gryffindor for potions. He expects them to crush every assignment sent their way, but what he doesn’t expect is him falling in love.

Words: Too many

Warning/s: Not proof-read, Grammar mistakes

A/N: I disappeared for a while, but I’m back now, lol. With Harry Potter oneshots. I have so many in my drafts that I hope to publish soon.

—

“These are your potion partners. You will work with them for the rest of the year. And no, you cannot change.”

Half of the class erupted into groans but Slughorn ignored them. Slytherins and Gryffindors were paired together, one boy and one girl.

Slughorn had purposely paired up Tom Riddle, the cold Slytherin heartthrob, and Y/N L/N, the intelligent Gryffindor beauty, together. He saw their potential together considering both students were academic geniuses.

“A Skele Gro potion? Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. It was one of the easiest potions to make and this was an advanced class.

“Slughorn probably gave the class an easy potion since he partnered us up with people we basically hate.” Tom retorted, staring at the old potions book.

“You hate me?”

“You are a Gryffindor, after all.”

“How original.”

For the remainder of the class, the two were quiet. There were a few words exchanged but not many.

“Pass the scarab beetle.”

“Give me the puffer fish.”

As Tom was busy mixing the potion, Y/N took this as her chance to glance at him. She couldn’t deny that he was attractive with his curled brown hair and high cheekbones.

She soon went back to scribbling a few notes in her textbook, the black ink staining the side of her hand (something she didn’t notice). She wiped the side of her cheek, unknowingly smearing the ink onto her face.

Tom gaze wandered from the simple potion to Y/N, who was leaning over the desk, quill in hand. He looked at the ink on her face, almost smiling in amusement.

“L/N,” He uttered. She turned her head to look at him in confusion, wondering why he had mumbled her name. “You have something on your face.”

She reached up a hand, touching the wrong side of her face.

“Other side- You know what, never mind.” Tom licked his lips and shook his head. He beckoned Y/N forward and with a pinch of hesitation, she stood up.

Tom pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her cheek, strangely fascinated by the way the ink didn’t stain her face as it did with her hand.

She stared into his dark brown eyes, leaving Tom stunned. Most students, even the girls obsessed with him, were always scared of Tom. But Y/N purely gazed at him, unfazed.

“Thank you.” She slowly said, her lips curving into a small smile.

Tom was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded. “No problem.”

The pair went silent again and when class was dismissed, Y/N shoved all of her things into her bag and fled the room.

Tom took his time in packing up. He picked up a thick leather journal that he didn’t remember owning and when he flipped thorough the messy pages, he realized it wasn’t his.

Every page of Y/N’s book was different. Some notes were messy while others were unbelievably neat.

Tom gently put the book in his bag and hurried out of the classroom to see if he could find Y/N. But she had moved too fast and was nowhere to be seen.

“Tom, why do you look so worried?” Avery came up behind the brunette prefect, slinging a pale arm around Tom’s shoulder.

“Y/N L/N, what do you know about her?” Tom asked.

“What? The Gryffindor girl with the fan club?”

Y/N was, to put it lightly, popular with the Hogwarts students. Not just the boys, in fact. Girls liked her too, both platonically and romantically. Hence her little fan club.

“Yes. What do you know about her?”

“Not a lot. She’s a Gryffindor, obviously. Comes from a wealthy Mudblood”- Avery froze as soon as Tom sent him a stern glare. “Muggle family.” He quickly corrected himself. “She’s smart, pretty, and people like her. She’s, uh, popular and acts as a stand-in for the Quidditch team because, despite liking the sport, she doesn't have enough time to play it regularly."

"Find out anything else about Y/N. And figure out her preferable type when it comes to romantic partners." Tom said, waving Avery off. The blond left, leaving Tom alone to tend to his thoughts.

The sound of heels clicking against the stoned floor filled the silent hallway and a shoulder banged into Tom's.

"Ah! Sorry!" Y/N called out, not realizing who it was.

Tom quickly reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. With a loud gasp of surprise, Y/N harshly crashed into his chest, almost knocking the air out of Tom's lungs.

Tom paused, inhaling the sweet scent of Y/N's floral perfume. "You left your notebook in the classroom. Here." The brunette boy handed Y/N her leather book, their fingers brushing against each other. She gripped her notes tightly, almost as if she was afraid of losing them again.

"Thank you." She muttered, her knuckles turning white. She looked like she wanted to say more but she didn't. She only nodded and ran off.

Tom let out a loud sigh, the brief feeling of Y/N's skin against his imprinted in his mind.

—

"My lord," Avery strode up to Tom, a few pages in his hands. "I, uh, made a list about... you know." He whispered the last part and handed Tom the list.

"Thank you. You may go." Tom looked around to see if anybody was paying attention to him before he flipped through Avery's messy handwriting.

Y/N L/N, muggle-born. Gryffindor. Enjoys studying in the library with her friends and loves (your favourite drink). Her best subject is defence against the dark arts and potions.

Her ideal type wasn't easy to figure out, but I managed to question a lot of her friends without raising suspicion. Her ideal type is people taller than her, and she really seems to like scholars over sporty people. Honestly, there's a lot of grey area so her type could be anyone.

Tom folded the notes and shoved them into his pocket. He cleared his throat, nodding in satisfaction. His first class of the day was potions, and he felt a weird feeling in his chest. It was almost like it… jumped.

Tom could feel his pulse speed up as he got closer to the potions classroom and he momentarily paused to feel it. “Strange.” He muttered under his breath. He must be sick because this had never happened.

Nevertheless, he continued on his way. He was early but there were already a few students inside, one being Y/N. She was sitting at her and Tom’s desk but was speaking to a Gryffindor behind her.

They immediately went silent, though, when Tom approached them. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as the awkward silence settled over the room.

Tom cracked open his potions book, his eyes scanning over random words. He could feel Y/N staring at him and when he glanced at her, she hurriedly looked away, her cheeks flushing red.

Tom held back a snicker. “Are you excited for the Yule ball?” Tom unexpectedly asked. He wasn’t one to be phased by silence, but Y/N looked uncomfortable by it.

“Pardon me?”

“The Yule ball. Are you excited? Surely you must be.”

“Oh, um, yes. What about you?”

“I’d rather skip it. But being a prefect, I have to be there.” Tom didn’t care for social events. He hated most of them and found them rather pointless. He had never liked the Yule ball in the first place.

“Have you got a date?” Y/N questioned, fiddling with her quill.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious. How is it that someone like you doesn’t have a date? Girls are crazy for you.” Y/N turned her head to look at Tom, which was probably the first time she had done so since he caught her staring.

“I’m not interested in them. They aren’t what I’m looking for.”

“Well, you have plenty time to find a date, if you want one.”

Tom silently nodded, opening his mouth and then closing it. “You’re on the Yule ball committee, are you not?” He asked after a hint of hesitation.

“I am. I’ve been so busy planning it that I haven’t thought about the event itself. I don’t even know what colour my dress will be.”

“(Favorite colour.” Tom immediately replied, taking Y/N by surprise. “(Favorite colour) would suit you.”

Y/N briefly smiled. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

—

As the days passed by, Y/N haunted Tom’s mind like a ghost haunting a dark house. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, no matter what he tried. He had even gone as far as making out with a fellow Slytherin to try and erase Y/N from his mind.

But all he could do was imagine it was Y/N who was desperately kissing him, smearing lipstick marks all over his white collar and drowning him in her sweet perfume.

Tom had gotten little to no sleep for the past week, a certain Gryffindor etched into his brain. The dark circles under his eyes had grown, a sign that he hadn’t been resting well.

“Riddle, are you okay?” Y/N’s voice snapped the brunette Slytherin back to reality. He realised that his head was leaning against his desk and his neck ached. He sat up, looking around the empty classroom. “You, uh, fell asleep.” Y/N explained, “Slughorn let you sleep since you seemed so tired.”

“Ah.” Tom thickly swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Thank you.” He waved his hand, trying to dismiss Y/N like he would dismiss Avery but she didn’t leave.

“Are you sure? Slughorn told me to tell you that if you ever need more sleep, you can ask him for a potion.”

Tom stood up, a little wobbly. He picked up his stuff and placed a heavy hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” He repeated. His hand lingered for a moment too long on Y/N before he lifted it and walked off, slightly unstable.

Y/N watched him leave, her lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed with concern. She recalled how peaceful Tom looked in his sleep, the completely opposite of what he looked like right now. He looked so… rough.

Y/N could faintly remember the feeling of Tom’s hand on her shoulder and she began to wonder how his cold hands would feel on her waist. Shocked by her own thoughts, Y/N violently shook her head.

Tom was attractive but he didn’t like anyone. Not romantically and not platonically. And Y/N would be the last person he’d date, with her being both a Gryffindor and Muggleborn.

Just as Y/N was about to leave, she spotted a slip of paper on Tom’s desk. Curiosity got the best of her and she hurriedly opened it. The paper looked like it had been quickly torn out of a notebook.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins. I can’t get her out of my head, just like how Humbert couldn’t stop thinking about Dolores. Perhaps Lolita is not the best reference to make buy nevertheless. This is not supposed to be happening, not now and not ever. I cannot love and yet here I am, undoubtedly and inexplicably in love with her.

It was Tom’s handwriting, Y/N was sure of it. She felt confused when her heart sank after reading the contents and not seeing her name. She had been thinking about Tom Riddle ever since they got paired up and she was starting to wonder the same question her friends were asking: Did Y/N L/N fancy Tom Riddle?

—

Potions couldn’t come fast enough. Tom and Y/N were the first ones to enter the room. They seemed to have the same idea and try to be as early as possible to get a glimpse of their potions partner before class started.

“What’s the theme for the Yule ball?” Tom inquired.

“It’s the same as it always is.” Y/N replied, “Snow.”

“How original.”

“I wish they’d spice it up a little. But the ball committee isn’t on charge of the them, just the planning and decorating.”

“Still no date?”

“I’ve had a few offers but… not my type. You?”

“No.”

“At this rate, it seems like you’ll never get a date.” Y/N joked but her smile faded when she saw Tom’s unamused face. “Say,” She said, suddenly remembering what she had found a few days ago, “Do you like anyone?”

“It’s impossible for me to like someone.”

“I know… but if you could, who would you like?” Y/N stared at Tom, anxiously awaiting his answer.

He took his sweet time in thinking. So long that Y/N was sure he wasn’t even going to give her a proper answer.

“It’s hard to say who when I don’t feel anything.” Tom lied through his teeth. The girl he was interested in was right in front of him.

“I see. No pressure to answer then.”

“But if I had to describe someone I’d like, if I could feel anything, I’d want her to be kind and caring. The opposite of me to balance it out.”

Y/N could feel anxiety course through her veins as she parted her lips to make a reference she probably shouldn’t have. “Would she be the light of your life and the fire of your loins?”

Tom tried to hide his small amount of panic with a chuckle. “A strange reference, huh? Why Lolita?”

“I just think it’s strange how some people can’t stop thinking about their crushes… like how Humbert was always thinking of Lolita.” Y/N watched Tom’s face for any form of reaction, but he had none.

“How did you find it?” Tom quickly questioned, turning on his wooden chair. “The letter? How did you find it?”

“You left it on your desk. Just tell me who the girl is, I want to know. I’ll even help you ask her out.”

“I do not need your help.” Tom seethed, “And do not mention a word of this to anyone else. We will discuss this after class.”

Perhaps Y/N should have kept her mouth shut. If she did, she wouldn’t have found herself locked in a dingy old basement with Tom Riddle.

I’m going to die, she thought to herself.

“Riddle, I promise I will not mention this to anybody. I swear! You don’t have to kill me! I won’t say anything!”

“I’m not going to kill you, L/N. What do you take me for? A savage?”

Y/N wanted to mention the time where Tom had beaten up a Hufflepuff for accidentally taking his book, but she forced herself not to say anything.

“You want to know who the girl is?” Tom asked. Y/N silently nodded. She subconsciously stepped back as he slowly walked towards her. This pattern continued until Y/N’s back hit a stone wall and she stiffened.

Tom was standing right in front of her, looming over her with that stern stare he always had.

“The girl that I am so infatuated with, to put it lightly, is you.”

Y/N blinked once, and then twice. Then she burst into laughter. “Are you messing with me, Riddle? Is this a joke? Come on, be serious.”

“I’m not the one who should be serious here.” Tom responded, reaching out a hand to tuck a piece of Y/N’s hair away.

“Wait, so you’re not joking?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrows. She couldn’t ignore the little jump her heart did.

“If I was joking, I wouldn’t be willing to do this.” Tom had to lean down to press his lips against Y/N’s. She jumped and, on instinct, pulled away and slapped Tom.

She froze, her mind processing what she had just done. Then she panicked. "My gosh, Riddle, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to slap you! Are you... okay?" That was a stupid question to ask, considering how red Tom's cheek was right now.

"Fine." He answered even though his face was stinging.

"I didn't mean to slap you. You just caught me by surprise. Sorry... again." Y/N cringed, staring at Tom's reddening cheek. "Say... do you happen to know what loins actually means, Riddle?”

“No. I only used it as a pitiful reference.”

“It's your, uh..." Y/N paused, "Humbert was basically saying that Dolores got him... aroused.” Y/N had expected him to know what it meant, Tom being an academic and all.

“Oh… well, I can assure you that I am not a pedo and nothing like Humbert.” Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry I kissed you without warning. You are free to go. Just… not a word.”

Tom turned around and even though Y/N wanted to call out his name, she simply stared at him before nodding and walking off.

Tom, who was hoping Y/N would stay, pressed his lips into a thin line. He thickly swallowed, waiting a few minutes to see if Y/N would return. When she didn’t, he could only nod in acceptance.

Love was never meant for some people, and perhaps Tom was in that category.

—

Y/N sat in her dorm room, sitting on the edge of her bed. She clasped her hands together, deep in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Liza, a fellow Gryffindor, bounced up to Y/N. She was one of her dorm mates, and a close friend.

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” Y/N quietly muttered, sheepishly smiling.

“Shoot. I have nothing better to do.”

“Riddle, uh… he…” Y/N struggled to finish her sentence. She could still feel his lips against her’s and for some reason… she liked it.

“What did he do? Did he- No. I knew he was rotten apple! That is unacceptable!” Liza assumed the worst.

“No! No! He didn’t. He… kissed me.”

Liza’s eyebrows rose in shock. She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Riddle… kissed you? Like… actually kissed you? No offence. He just doesn’t seem like the type… to be interested in relationships.” Liza’s gaze fell upon Y/N’s solemn face. “But, uh, how are you feeling? That’s the most important thing.”

“That’s the problem… I’m not too sure. I… liked it? But, it feels wrong. I mean, Riddle is… he’s untouchable. He’s the head boy, he’s smart and charming and loved. And I’m… just me.”

Liza grabbed Y/N’s hands, holding onto them tightly. “You are not just you. You are a top student at Hogwarts. A role model to younger kids. A great candidate for head girl. You are amazing and talented and skilled. You are Y/N L/N.” Liza furrowed her eyebrows as she spoke with such passion.

Y/N teared up at her friend’s kind words. Liza softly smiled and wiped away a stray tear.

“Y/N, do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“That isn’t an answer. Do you like Tom Riddle?”

“I do.”

Liza grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, tightly gripping them. “Then listen to me, Y/N. You are going to march up to Riddle and you are going to ask that boy out if it’s the last thing you do! And he will accept your offer because he is lucky to even stand so close to you! Do you understand?!”

Liza’s enthusiastic behavior on this matter made Y/N laugh. “Okay, okay. What do I have to do?”

Liza smirked, standing up straight and flicking her raven black hair over her shoulder.

“Leave it to me.”

—

Y/N felt a little foolish as she stood in the crowded hallway, a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and heart-shaped letter in the other. Liza stood behind Y/N, keeping a lookout for Tom Riddle.

“Is this necessary?” Y/N muttered, gulping as people stared at her when they passed by.

“Absolutely. Come on, I see him.” Liza pushed Y/N forward. Her heart was beating like crazy in her chest. Her knees wobbled like jelly and she found it hard to stand properly.

“Liz,” Y/N whispered, hyperventilating. “Liz. I can’t do this.”

“No. Come on. Y/N, I believe in you. Let’s go.”

Y/N shakily stepped forward. She locked eyes with Riddle, who stared at her in confusion. His eyes flickered to the flowers and the letter, and he tilted his head to the side.

“I can do this.” Y/N muttered to herself.

“You can do this.” Liza echoed.

“I’m a Gryffindor. I’m brave. I’m loyal. I’m courageous. I’m Y/N L/N.” Y/N took a deep breathe before she quickly walked towards Tom.

The sea of students parted for her. They whispered and muttered, wondering what Tom’s answer would be. He was infamous for not caring about other people and, to them, Y/N was just another girl who thought she could change him.

“Y/N.” Tom uttered. That was the first time he had called her by her first name, which said something. Tom’s group that had been accompanying him stepped back, pushing and shoving each other and quietly laughing.

“Tom.” Y/N greeted him back.

“Did you finally say yes to someone asking you out to the Yule Ball?” Tom questioned, reaching out a hand to look at the beautiful flowers. “He has nice choice in flowers.”

“Actually,” Y/N said, stepped closer to the tall brunette, “I’m not the one who has to say yes. But, I’m hoping the person I’m asking will.”

Tom arched an eyebrow, confused and left in the dark.

“Tom Riddle, being your potions partner has been… interesting. It’s been chaotic, which is my favorite kind of fun. You are… amazing, and smart, and a great companion. So, Tom Riddle, despite me being a Gryffindor, will you make me so happy and go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“This is such a Gryffindor thing to do; the girl asking the boy out.” Tom plucked a flower from the bouquet, slightly grinning, “Y/N L/N, you are one amazing girl. I would be honored to be your date.”

Tom slowly tilted Y/N’s chin up and smiled.

“That’s… a yes, right?”

“It’s a yes.”

Malfoy practically tackled Tom. “My friend has a date! Tom finally has a date!”

The hallway burst into cheers and claps. Liza was especially happy. She bounced up to Y/N, hugging her tightly. Other people approached Y/N, joyfully congratulating her and patting her back. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, but the adrenaline blocked out her pain.

Tom glanced at Y/N, pausing. He adored that glint in her eyes and he hoped it would be there for a long time to come.

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momo-t-daye · 9 months

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Momo's unofficial Snapetober for 2023

I have had such a delightful time with Snapetober the last couple of years and wanted to celebrate Severus Snape again this October!

Since I haven’t seen an official list of prompts for 2023 just yet (if anyone does have an official list, please do let me know! I don't want to step on toes), I compiled a list from a few previous Snapetobers, Inktobers, etc. and then added in some other words that struck me as October-ish and/or autumnal and/or Snape-esque to challenge myself If anyone else would like to participate with my unofficial prompt list, that would be glorious and I’d be thrilled! It is such a treat to see all sorts of new Snape art and thoughts and creativity and all the ways the Snapedom can have fun with a concept and theme.

As I understand from previous years, the Snapetober rules are that you can do any number of prompts you fancy, combine prompts (I will!), respond to prompts in any order and on your own schedule (Snapetober can last until March and beyond if that is the timetable that works best for you!), and/or use prompt lists from previous years and that entries can be anything you wish to create from fic (any length, format, point of view, pairing, alternate universe or canon, featuring any additional characters), art (in any style and any level of effort), head-canons, plot bunnies, mood-boards, ballads, etc. etc. just so long as it is focused on Severus Snape and it is yours (also, if you have older art that fits a prompt that you want to circulate upon the metaphorical refrigerator, I think that’s awesome and would love to see it!)

I expect this list is a bit more plant and animal themed (because that is where my brain resides most of the time) and I did gravitate towards words that tickle the tongue (if there are any words that don’t translate well or don’t quite make sense, I am happy to try to help clarify). I hope there is sufficient wiggle room in the prompts to be interpreted in any direction!

Foliage

Harvest

Path

Home

Smoke

Mushroom

Corvids

Crepuscular

Invention

Flight

Water

Amphibian

Ephemeral

Perpetual

Serpent

Filthy

Apple

Gaze

Hands

Spider

Paradox

Power

Remembrance

Maze

Mask

Superstition

Bats

Scarecrow

Pumpkin

Ghost

Costume

#Snapetober #Severus Snape #Snapedom #snape fandom #snape community #Snapetober 2023 #snape art prompts #Unofficial snapetober #Crepuscular is my favorite word in the English language

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toriscrazycorners-blog · 3 months

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Finally back into the fanfic grind with a Snarry post 📚

#fic rec #my fic writing #fanfic #fic prompts #harry potter #mlm fanfic #my fic #snarry #snarry fic rec #harry x severus #severus snape

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snapeaddict · 8 months

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Snapetober Day 25 - Mask

Everything was a blur. He could barely hear; his vision was hazy, its corners were suspiciously dark and white spots danced at its centre. He felt numb, and could not tell if he was in pain, or not. Yet he kept bringing his hand back to his neck, where Fawkes had shed a copious amount of tears: the area was particularly sensitive.

He walked, and he kept walking. He made his way back to the castle without once clearly formulating to himself where it was that he was going; he could not think, and found himself incapable of devising even a slightly coherent response to the world around him.

So he walked, first to the castle's entrance, then inside the castle he found deserted, and finally to the Great Hall where all had assembled. He entered, and then only did the realisation of where he was and in front of whom he stood struck him: even with the buzz in his ears, he was vaguely aware that most conversations in the hall had ceased instantly, save for whimpers and cries.

He blinked, attempting to focus on what was in front of him. Minerva was there; so was Potter, who had been talking to her. She turned towards him and froze at his sight. He halted.

Both gazed at one another. Instinctively and without his knowledge, an expression of overt indifference supplanted the haggard one on his face: all his muscles turned into stone to avoid any emotion from betraying him, to conceal even the most volatile, foolish sentiment. He gazed at her with terrible tranquillity, and so did she, for she did not move, she did not stir, she looked neither shocked nor surprised. Her upper lip moved slightly, in a manner characteristic to her, to express disdain.

There was no helping it. After a year, neither of them could put down the masks easily: Minerva to protect herself, Severus to protect her.

And there was silence, a heavy, prolonged silence.

"Professor", Potter finally said in a toneless voice, breaking the spell.

Minerva took a step forward, then another, and with each one her face came back to life, her marble expression slowly replaced by one of utter grief and worry.

"Is that true, Severus?" she whispered to him, shivering at the sight of his bloody robes.

He could not reply, he could not use his voice, so he nodded, and as he did he understood her question and his heart missed a beat. Lowering his eyes, he rolled down his left sleeve with a trembling hand: he gasped as he discovered the dark mark almost gone, only barely visible.

He did not have time to look up. Strong arms wrapped him in a warm embrace - he heard Minerva sob against his shoulder, she was clinging on to him with disproportionate strength.

When she raised her eyes to meet his, her face was tear-streaked and she looked utterly desperate. Yet she was smiling; he wrapped his arms around her too.

It was a good thing he could not think properly, for all eyes were on them and it did not even cross his mind.

But in the safety of her embrace, he felt himself begin to smile too. Confusedly he wanted to apologise to her, to tell her that she would soil her robes, to inquire about what happened, but all these thoughts passed him by without ever giving him the chance to act upon them.

It was for the better.

"Are you going to faint on me?" he heard her murmur, and he realised he was now the one clinging on to her.

He nodded slowly, and she pulled her wand out, still holding him tightly.

"Do not worry, I am here now", she whispered.

And he smiled again and closed his eyes.

#<33 #severus snape #pro snape #minerva mcgonagall #snapetober #snapetober 2023 #snape #snape survived #Also yes I haven't posted for the maze prompt because I'm blaking badly on this one #If anyone has got an idea #*blanking

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jokeringcutio · 7 months

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Severus Snape x Reader - Halloween (Contains Smut)

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Professor Snape x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: A grown-up dressed as a Hogwarts student on Halloween… Snape has his own thoughts about it.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual content, spanking, blowjob.

Not a Real Hogwarts Student

Halloween evening draped its eerie shadows around you, the crisp autumn air nipping at your cheeks as you and your friend Melissa guided a gaggle of excited children from house to house. Their laughter pierced the night as they scampered from door to door. To match the group, Melissa and you had decided to dress up as well. Moonlight shimmered on the velvet fabric of your Hogwarts uniform, a tribute to the fantasy world you loved so much. Your favorite house, of course. It had been an easy decision.

"Let's try this place!" one of the kids exclaimed, pointing at an old, imposing residence. It fit Halloween perfectly, although you could tell it wasn’t decorated for the occasion. This house looked just creepy on itself.

Little did you know, it was the home of none other than Severus Snape himself.

The tallest of the kids rang the doorbell, an ominous creak echoing through the darkened hallway within. Your heart thudded in your chest, anticipation lacing your veins.

The door swung open to reveal the tall figure of Professor Snape, his black hair framing his pale face. The children gasped, staring wide-eyed at the man they knew to be the famous strict, no-nonsense professor.

"Trick-or-treat," they mumbled hesitantly, their previous enthusiasm dampened by the sight of him.

"Ah, my little ghouls and witches," Snape purred, his voice dripping with mystery. "I have something for each of you."

Reaching into a crystal bowl, he pulled out handfuls of candy, distributing them among the children with uncharacteristic gentleness. The kids were hesitant, but when they saw the copious amount of candy they were given, they started to smile again.

Melissa threw you a look that showed she was as confused as you. “Nice outfit, sir,” she said, betraying that she hadn’t recognized him. But you knew who he was, and you trembled slightly at the crooked smile he flashed your friend.

He wasn’t wearing a Halloween costume, you thought. Snape was in his ordinary black clothes. His usual.

"Thank you, Professor," the kids said, smiling brightly and clutching their treats tightly.

“You’re welcome,” Snape said, his voice had that unmistakable low buzz to it that made it uniquely his; words drawn and stretched like a hum.

“Come on,” one of the kids said, signaling the others to head to the next home. They started to run, their laughter filling the air once more. You and Melissa turned around to follow when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Girl in the Hogwarts outfit," Snape called after you as the children scampered off. "A word."

Your eyes widened and you looked at Melissa. She was dressed as a pirate, her dress showing off her bare knees and shapely thighs. She looked stunning and alluring. She wasn’t dressed as a Hogwarts student.

You were.

“What do I do?” you mouthed the words silently at Melissa, aware that Snape couldn’t see them as you stood turned away. Provided he wouldn’t read your mind. But no. You should not think of that, because if he did, he would read that too. And this. And this. And the fact that you’d gotten hot for him for ages. Bummer. If he could read your mind he probably saw all the flashes of erotic daydreams involving him and you that instantly surfaced to the front of your mind. You tried to push your dirty thoughts far away while you tried to focus on Melissa as she stepped closer to you.

“Go to him?” she whispered. Melissa clutched your arm, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Is that a good idea?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Why not?" She asked, then frowned. “Look, the kids are already at the next house, someone has to stay with them. Just talk to the man, they seem to know him. Plus we know where he lives. If he tries anything funny….”

She left the words dangling in the air and you nodded, knowing what she was trying to say. You could feel the weight of Snape's dark gaze upon you, beckoning you to him.

“All right,” you said, “I’ll talk to him.” Somehow you were more than a little intrigued that Snape had asked you to stay behind. Not sexy and pretty Melissa. But you. You needed to know what it was that he wanted.

“But if anything happens to me,” you threatened.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “God's sake, girl,” she said, grumbling. "I’ll make you a deal. If you're not back in half an hour, I'll come looking for you."

You stared at your friend, glowering until she cracked a smile. “And you have your phone. You’ll be good.”

"Deal," you said, taking a deep breath before you turned around. Behind you, you could hear Melissa’s hurried footsteps as she ran over to the kids. While your fate awaited you at the door of a dark and gloomy-looking house. There were actual black bricks and wood incorporated into the house’s exterior. How fitting.

Slowly, you walked back to the porch. He stood there, an enigmatic figure framed by the doorway, waiting patiently for you to return.

“You asked for me, sir?” you politely started, but he cut you off by turning briskly and retreating into his house, not even waiting to see if you followed. You only heard his low voice drift towards you.

"Come inside," The words were a low hum, vibrating in your soul. A command. You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest, before finally stepping into his home.

The moment you crossed the threshold, the whole atmosphere seemed to change. The cold and morbid exterior seemed to be replaced with a pleasant and warm interior. A small hallway with flowery wallpaper led you to a cozy living room that was filled with strange knick-knacks – a bubbling cauldron, rows of vials containing mysterious liquids, and countless books lining the walls. You could feel the power emanating from every corner, but at the same time, it felt oddly inviting.

"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to a spot on the floor in front of a comfortable chair by the fireplace.

You blinked up at him, not quite sure if you understood him. Did he want you to sit on the floor?

“A grown-up woman dressed as a student,” Snape’s low voice sounded, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You hoped he didn’t notice, that he didn’t see how much his voice affected you. “Deplorable.”

Now wait a minute. You hadn’t come here to be insulted. But as you opened your mouth to say your bit, Snape raised a hand and spoke again. “I won’t ask you again. If you want to dress up as a student, you better listen to your professor. Sit.”

The floor again. You’d seen it correctly then. Reluctantly, you obeyed, sinking to your knees as he lowered himself into the chair in front of you, staring intently at you. Just his gaze alone sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel the heat rising between you, an unspoken tension leaving you breathless.

For a while, that was all there was to it. Just him staring at you, and you trying not to let your thoughts get in the way. Moistness gathered between your legs and you prayed he wouldn’t see. But then again, his eyes… they were so intently upon you, darker than the blackest coal you’d ever seen. What was he looking for? What was he hoping for?

You shifted, uncomfortable, and placed your hands between your knees, sitting up meekly.

"Are you aware of the effect your costume has on me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Dressed as a student from my school... At your age… What do you have to say for yourself.”

“Sorry, Professor. I didn’t know you were-” real? Here? What was it you could say that wouldn’t raise his anger? “It’s my favorite house and it was just a bit of harmless fun.”

“Harmless, right?” The words were drawn, his dark eyes roving over you. “Seeing you like this… it awakens something within me."

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of your own vulnerability. "I... I didn't mean to, Professor," you stammered, feeling the intensity of his gaze burning into you.

"Didn't you?" he pressed, leaning forward ever so slightly. "You must have known how it would affect me. How it would make me feel."

Your heart raced and your breath hitched in your throat. No, you hadn’t, you thought. But if you had, you would have put the costume on all the same. You desired him, and now he would see you.

Snape's dark eyes held yours captive, almost as if he knew he had you caught, and you knew there was no escaping the dangerous attraction that crackled between you.

"Your apology is inadequate," Snape declared, his voice low and dangerous. "You must make amends for your indiscretion."

A shudder raced through you as you struggled to comprehend his intentions. "What do you want me to do, Professor?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Come here," he commanded, patting his lap.

Obediently, you approached, uncertain what exactly it was that he wanted from you. Although you were starting to have an inkling. You wanted to ask him ‘Really, Professor?’ or tease him. But he grasped your arm, as quick as a snake, and tugged you toward him. The jerking motion made you tumble over. You felt a strong palm against your back, pushing you as he laid you across his knees, and you gasped.

He had tricked you, just like that. You tried to look up but then froze at the feeling of his hand brushing past the skin of your leg. Gently at first, then more demanding, until it slipped underneath your skirt and pulled it down.

“Professor!” You called out in surprise. But he hissed at you as a sign to remain quiet, while his hands toyed with the naked flesh of your ass. A gentle rub of his palms, kneading and fondling your soft skin.

An experimental pat. Then, another one. You bit your lip in pleasure.

"Count them," he ordered, and you instantly knew what he was going to do next. You braced yourself for the first slap. It landed with a resounding smack, stinging your flesh. "One," you gasped, trying to maintain your composure.

"Again," he murmured, his voice thick with anticipation. The second slap struck, harder than the first, forcing a whimper from your lips. "Two," you breathed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Perhaps this will teach you a lesson," he mused, landing another sharp blow to your tender skin. "Three," you choked out, unable to hold back the sob that threatened to escape. God, this felt good.

"Enough," Snape decided, his fingers tracing the red marks he'd left on your behind. "But you're not truly sorry yet, are you?"

You shook your head, frightened by the dark desire that flickered in his eyes. "No, Professor," you admitted, your voice barely audible.

"Then prove it," he growled, guiding you off his lap and back onto your knees before him. As you hesitated, he placed his hands on yours, moving them between his legs. Your fingertips were brushed against his fly. When you looked up at him you saw how the professor had cocked his head, how his eyebrows raised in anticipation. He wanted you to do this.

Slowly, you unbuttoned his pants, releasing his throbbing cock into view. It was large. Not as pale as the rest of him. Riddled with purple veins and pulsing.

“Now then,” a low murmur from his lips. "Show me how sorry you are."

Tentatively, you reached out to touch him, your fingers trembling as they wrapped around his length. Experimentally, you brushed your thumb past the head, noticing how a droplet of pre-cum stuck to your finger as you brushed past the slit. Did a shiver just run down his spine? Did he tremble underneath your touch?

Feeling empowered, you started to move your hand up and down. With each stroke, your confidence grew, and soon you leaned forward, brushing your lips past the wet tip.

“Yes,” the pleasure was audible in his voice. “Use those pretty lips.”

Encouraged, you gripped the base of his cock with both hands while taking the tip of him into your mouth. It tasted funny, but good. Eager for more, you tried to take him in deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks while you pushed your tongue against him. Slowly, you started to move your head up and down, taking him a little bit deeper with each thrust.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper. "That's it, just like that."

You tried to focus on pleasing him, suppressing your gag reflex as he filled your throat. His grip tightened in your hair, urging you on as your lips and tongue worked their magic on him.

"Almost there," he groaned, his breath hitching as you continued your diligent efforts. The taste of him was intoxicating, making you crave more.

As he neared his climax, you felt the muscles in his thighs tense beneath you. "I'm going to come," he warned, voice thick with lust.

His grip on your hair tightened further, a guttural moan escaping him as he thrust one final time into your mouth. You felt the hot, thick jets of his spunk hit the back of your throat, and you swallowed greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop.

When he was spent, Snape released his hold on your head, allowing you to gasp for air. You were feeling a little dizzy, the salty taste of his cock and his cum lingered on your tongue. Something cold and wet was on your cheek and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. It seemed a few droplets of cum had managed to get away.

Snape’s dark eyes bore into yours, searching for something within their depths. "I enjoyed myself," he admitted, his voice low and intense.

Your cheeks flushed with both arousal and embarrassment, but you met his gaze boldly. "So did I, Professor," you confessed, feeling a strange thrill at admitting your desires to this powerful man. "I would like to do this again."

He regarded you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. "Yes," he agreed, his tone almost gentle. "We will have to continue your… education soon."

A flurry of excitement stirred in your abdomen, as if a thousand butterflies took flight. He wanted to meet with you again. To do this again. Just the thought that you would get to see and pleasure him again got you all flustered.

You stood, smoothing your skirt and attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

“Let me know when,” you said, leaning forward to scribble your telephone number on a piece of paper that conveniently lay upon his side table. You felt him as he watched, but when you spun around, he was decent again. Still seated in his chair, he watched you.

“Well, I probably need to go,” you started, hesitantly. You didn’t want to leave but…

“Or your friend will come with the police in tow,” Snape added. “Get moving, girl.”

Here, the two of you locked gazes and flashed each other a smile.

“I’ll see you around, Professor,” you said, more cheekily now. You flashed him a smile and, with an elegant twirl, turned around and made your way to the door.

Just as you were about to step outside you heard him call out your name. Confused, you turned back to face him. He gestured toward the bowl of candy on a table near the door.

"Don't forget your reward for being such a little goody two shoes," he told you, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

"Thank you, Professor," you murmured, quickly grabbing a handful of candy before slipping out into the cool night air, your heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

~ Fin ~

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