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[flyingpurplepizzaeater]

Sometimes people use “respect” to mean “treating someone like a person” and sometimes they use “respect” to mean “treating someone like an authority”

and sometimes people who are used to being treated like an authority say “if you won’t respect me I won’t respect you” and they mean “if you won’t treat me like an authority I won’t treat you like a person”

and they think they’re being fair but they aren’t, and it’s not okay.

[natequarter]

"the doctor was completely colourblind for his first two incarnations" is hilarious for many reasons but at least partly because it implies the third doctor just woke up one day suddenly able to see in colour and immediately decided to start dressing like a gay parrot

[eremitical]

you can’t have sex with someone who finds you attractive because they only want to sleep with you because of how attracted they are to you which is coercion

[ominousminx]

Why the enemies to lovers trope exists

[sevsnapes]

Horny Lucius coming too quickly… (x2)

Lucius fresh out of Azkaban, hasn’t experienced any form of intimacy for months and desperately craves closeness. It’s almost overwhelming when you first touch him, like electric shocks through his body, and he’s jumpy from being scared and drained for so long, so you start slow.

Eventually, cuddling turns into kissing and before long, making out. It’s slow and tender and careful, but exciting all the same.

‘It’s been a while,’ he breathes when you break to press gentle kisses down his neck, still sore from his mostly untended pre-Azkaban injuries and he moans at the softness there. ‘Please- go easy-’

It’s a feeble plea, broken off with a moan when your tongue slides back into his mouth.

He tries to let himself go a little after being worried he wouldn’t be able to get hard after so long out of action, and now he’s a little overexcited that he managed to, and he’s throbbing, slick with precum inside his underwear.

You can feel his arousal too from the way you’re laid together, and you plan to take this however far he wants to, but so sooner do you reach down to tease over his clothes, he’s shuddering, groaning, grasping at you with all the strength he can muster as his body convulses through an untimely and surprisingly intense release.

‘I’m sorry,’ he sniffles immediately, breathless and with tears staining his cheeks. ‘I- I’m so sorry.’

He releases you from his grip and covers his face with trembling hands.

It feels better like this. Hidden. You can leave without him watching. You don’t though, and the tears don’t let up because when he feels your fingers wrap softly around his wrists and pull his hands away, you just carry on kissing him like nothing happened. Like you still want him.

‘Don’t be sorry,’ you reassure, and he manages to look at you, grey eyes tired and sparkling with tears. ‘It’s so hot how much you needed me.’

So you stay like that, lips locked languid and slow until he’s ready again, or until you fall asleep like this. And either option is just fine with both of you.

And I’m not sure if it’s actually even hotter pre-Azkaban… ? So…

You’d think Lucius would make a good dom. Precise, firm, so well put together it’s almost intimidating and a tongue so sharp it could cut glass — but when it comes down to it and you find yourself straddling him in his big soft, silk-sheet covered bed, he’s such a needy, subby pillow princess of a man it’s almost jarring.

This is a man who places pleasure high up on his list of priorities and if you can give him what he wants he’s putty. You only have to stroke his hair and tell him how pretty he is whilst undressing him, and he’s already completely weak for you, visibly melting and whimpering sweetly.

Learn exactly what to say and where and how to touch him just right and he loses control so fast, begging and writhing for friction. Sometimes it’s just too much and he can’t help but come unraveled before you’ve even really touched him.

When he cums in his underwear while you’re kissing and showering him with compliments, he tries so hard to draw out the pleasure, moaning like a slut and dry humping whichever part of you he can reach, and then asks for you to start all over again. It’s through sobs because it was so overwhelming in the best way, and because he wanted to fuck you but he just couldn’t hold back for long enough.

He also loves when you edge him, spending all day lying back and lavishing in pleasure, but most of the time he cums two minutes into the handjob you start with because no one can do it the way you do, just how he likes it, and you can only wait until he’s recovered (if he can keep getting hard enough to carry on).

Don’t worry. If he can’t get hard again he will give you a good time, he might be a pillow princess most of the time but he’s obsessed with making you feel good, too.

[tvgirl4ever]

[ominousminx]

*throws everything across the universe

As in swipes everything off the table

swipes the Daleks out of the universe

[ominousminx]

Search bar: 🦋🌸🐦‍🔥

Me: 😍🥰 ?????

Search bar: Butterfly and Hummingbird Day

Me: ❤️

Me: But what do those have…

👀

✨ flowersuckers ✨

[mrrownd]

no bond like the bond between a mentally ill gay woman in her 20s and her emotional support actress with absolutely no social media presence

[ominousminx]

Eve’s bees, assemble!

[ominousminx]

Social Facilitation

If a person does better when people are watching, that's social facilitation.

If a person does worse when people are watching, that's also social facilitation.

But if I do worse when people are watching, that's social anxiety and I have no self-esteem and I'm socially inept.

It's true, but still.

[dilkinazm]

What are Hermione's thoughts on Snape's hands?

Hi there!

Thank you for the ask!

I personally think she is fascinated by them. Hands are telling things and Hermione is an observant sort. I think she understood a lot about his personality from looking at them. She could see he was methodical and precise from not just potion preparation but just how practiced and controlled they are from wand movements. However, she is not so naive to think those hands are capable of dangerous things like how fluid and fast they are when he whips out the wand to attack. Those hands also hold a lot of anger and resentment when they clench so tightly that they go white. There is impatience too when he drums his fingers as he waits for answers he doesn't want to hear or how they slide through his hair for the millionth time.

However, those hands also tell another story. She can see the hands of someone who is unafraid of hard work. The callouses, old scars, nicks, healing and fresh bruises show he has worked for everything on his own. Snape's hands are something to witness when he is scribbling notes in his many notebooks. The speed in which he writes and the grip around the quill show he holds millions of thoughts and ideas. It makes her laugh when he grips especially tight and scratches out what is a very bad idea.

She knows that he is a protective wizard when he flung them out of the way from being attacked by Lupin in werewolf form. She saw how those hands have the power to heal and treat when he brewed all the potions in the hospital wing, including the one that undid her petrification. Lastly, she can tell they're the hands of someone deeply sad and regretful. The way they fall slack in defeat when they cannot do something to save everyone. She sees how they tremble when he must do something to not blow his cover and convince everyone he is a villain. It is especially telling how his hands twist and contort when he is being summoned, as if he does not want to go but knows he must because of a terrible choice he made. The twist and twitch tell her he wishes he could do it all over again and not make that choice.

Sorry, I got super carried away! Oops!

[the-deathly-gallows]

Severus Snape doesn't need sex or lust. He needs someone to worship him and treat his body like a sacred shrine. He needs to be bathed, loving hands gently stroking him as they wash him, rinsing him with warm water that makes him close his eyes with jolts of pleasure as it touches his skin. He needs to be wrapped in warm towels and dried gently as he just enjoys the moment. He then needs to be princess-carried to bed, strong arms lifting his precious weight and placing him on a comfy bed.

And there he needs to be worshipped.

You worship with all 5 senses.

Touch:

He lays naked as you admire every single inch of him, lips brushing against his skin as love pours out of them, covering him in tender kisses, starting from his feet and going up. You rub his soles as your lips graze upon the side of his feet and his heels, almost tickling them with your kisses, then you move to his calves, and you indulge on his thighs, caressing and kissing their inner part, but without touching his genitals; once again, he needs love, not lust. You move up only once you're satisfied, kissing his navel, his tummy and going up to his face, hands tenderly holding him like you would with something precious and delicate. You slide your hand under his back to hold him as you're on top of him, feeling his weight, his chest going up and down as he breathes. And you kiss him again, tenderly, on the lips, and again, and again, as your other hand goes up to hold his head and caress his hair with your thumb.

Smell:

You sniff his skin, take in the mixture of his natural smell, scented candles and the body wash you used previously. It's primal yet holy. A sweet mix of cinnamon and musk fills your nostrils as your body begs for more, more, more of him. His whole body is a sensory experience and you have the special honor to partake in it. Enjoy.

Sight:

You watch him longingly, admiring every part of him as you touch him. Dimly lit by a candle on the bedside, his body is a spectacle of light and shadows, just like his soul. You can't get enough of his slender figure, a few beauty marks drizzled on his fair skin. You skim through his slim feet, his legs,his groin, going up to his chest, his small nipples, his prominent Adam's apple that goes back and forth as he gulps, his jawline, his thin mouth gasping half-open, his hooked nose.

And you lock eyes with him.

Severus Snape isn't gloomy, unperturbed or grumpy. Heck, he isn't even sneering. No cold stare meets yours. Oh no, not at all. There's something else in his dark eyes. Something the flickering candle enhances even more, something nobody has ever seen. And it's running down his cheek now.

A tear.

Severus Snape is crying. He stares at you surprised, almost frightened by such gentleness, eyes watery, as you keep adoring him. And then you are certain nobody has ever done anything quite like that to him before. You do not leave his stare as he processes this emotional buildup and unwinds. It's holy, and he lets you see it. You thank him for this.

Taste:

you kiss his cheeks, salty tears mix with your saliva as you swallow them down. You savor his skin, feasting on his vulnerable body. He is your sacramental bread and he gives himself to you.

Hearing:

Severus Snape sobs as you tell him he's brave, he's strong and you thank him for allowing you in his life. He sobs as you reassure him of how precious he is, of how beautiful his body looks, of how intelligent and gifted he is. He still sobs as you gently hush in his ear as you hold him close, kissing his head and rocking him back and forth. You start humming to comfort him as he curls up in your arms as if running away from other eyes, even from the light of the candle, so that nobody sees him like that. "There's no need to hide" you reassure him. "You're safe with me", as the sound of kisses echoes in the room.

[giosnape-deactivated20260305]

Hands

Content: NSFW, smut, sub snape, SnapexReader, handjob.

You have been the new History of Magic professor for a few months now.

This assignment has turned your life upside down in the real without of the word, you are finally doing the work you have studied hard for all your life giving you satisfaction and pride.

And for Him.

You met Him.

When you first saw Him at the first faculty meeting your heart leapt.

Your brown eyes wandered over that black and mysterious figure.

Every single cell in your body was attracted to his scornful and icy obsidian-colored gaze.

You had never met such a man, but you had been warned that at Hogwarts was the insidious, the dangerous, and the unwanted Severus Snape.

In your head you pictured him as an irascible, unpleasant-looking elderly wizard, but you were pleasantly surprised when you found a 36-year-old man before your eyes.

You found him extremely sexy by your standards of beauty; you had always preferred people with unconventional beauty, and he represented everything you were looking for in a man or woman.

His posture exuded power, control, intelligence and arrogance.

Over the course of weeks during one evening you indulged in a passionate kiss in your office while he was helping you prepare l lectures, obviously he had been coerced by Dumbledore.

Severus was apparently not a generous man and had no time to waste; he considered you a nuisance and another commitment to bear.  

Unexpectedly even for Severus that kiss awakened his slumbering soul.

He had felt alive again after years of torpor.

Now you are sitting quietly in the Great Hall while consuming your breakfast, you are sitting by his side and with an ounce of excitement because of the previous night's kiss.

You do not know what is happening to you but guided by a primal instinct you reach out a hand caressing Severus's thigh wrapped in his tight black pants.

“What are you doing?” Severus murmurs through clenched teeth as he turns imperceptibly.

You do not answer and continue with one free hand sipping your coffee.

“It's terrible coffee at Hogwarts, don't you think, Professor?” you ask amused, and Severus tries to push your hand away from under the table.

Your hand is more cunning and reaches for the button on your pants.

You quickly slip it out of the buttonhole and unzip it.

In reaction Severus clenches his hand into a clenched fist.

You start stroking with an open hand, energetically, only the fabric of his boxers separating him from his skin.

You cast a protection spell so no one can see what you're doing, and you have no intention of telling Severus.

You amuse yourself by noticing his stiff composure and a few drops of sweat near the hairline of his long hair.  

You hold him with one hand and stroke his already wet tip with your thumb.

Ah, he likes it.

You smile contentedly and resume your work with expert skill and fast pace.

You notice that he bites his lower lip to keep from panting.

He begins to shake and spreads his legs wide.

You squeeze him between your fingers hard, close his erection in your fist moving your grip upward, careful to move the thin skin along his flesh.

When you move back toward the base with your fist you denude the tip, so swollen and wet.

You continue, relentlessly increasing the pace.

Severus jerks forward with his pelvis, a movement you were prepared for.

At that point you feel your hand wet with his warm liquid and enjoy the sensation.

He gasps without warning, grabs the tea cup and drinks almost choking to keep from moaning.  

Satisfied, you move your hand to wipe it against a napkin and then... bring it to your mouth tasting Severus' flavor.

You sense his glowing gaze on you.

“Hmm, it's really tasty breakfast at Hogwarts don't you think Professor?” you whisper and for the first time you see Severus hold back a laugh.

You will remember that day for making Severus Snape almost laugh.

[literalliterature]

babygirl i can waste time i don't even have

[frillions]

Ken’s First Time

Ken x reader

1.1k words

Summary: Since Ken entered the real world, he’s been experiencing some… feelings (AKA a good orgasm might calm him down)

Author’s Notes: Alright, here it is. It’s smutty, it’s tongue-in-cheek, it’s a little bit silly… just take it for what it is, enjoy the Kenergy and have fun 🩷 (also, I’ve got another idea for a different side to Ken if people like this one and crave more Ken smut…)

Warnings/content: NSFW, 18+, first kiss, first orgasm, making out, dry humping, hand job, gn!reader, Ken’s self doubt and nerves (and crying)

‘I’ve been getting these… urges, like, there’s something stirring deep inside me that I can’t seem to tame,’ Ken uttered huskily, fingers toying with the hair by your ear. ‘I think it might be because I’m craving… this.’

Biting his lip, he stared deep into your eyes, the heat of his gaze dropping down to your lips before slowly leaning in.

When you followed his lead, breath quickening as you tilted your head, he faltered, pulling back with a quiet growl and balling his fists in frustration.

He had hung on your every word all day, never taking his eyes off you for a single moment. And you’d noticed the way he lit up every time you looked at him… but now, you began to wonder if you’d done something to put him off.

‘Ken?’ you breathed carefully.

‘I- I’ve never…’ he hesitated.

Oh. That’s all it was. You dipped your head to meet his sparkling eyes again.

‘You’ve never kissed anyone?’ you asked gently, lifting your palm to rest softly against his handsome cheek.

Ken cleared his throat and forced a smile. ‘I’ve tried. Lots of times.’ He lifted his chin with mock confidence, as though trying to kiss was some sort of proud accomplishment. ‘You know how it can be.’

‘It’s alright,’ you soothed, rubbing your thumb soothingly over his cheekbone. Your mind raced with what else he probably hadn’t done either, the thought causing heat to pool at your core. ‘We’ll take it at your pace.’

The silky tone of your voice and the comfort of your words made him feel… dizzy? He blinked his gaze away, blushing. Feeling it again. That pull of something deep in his gut that made him want to submit himself to… whatever it was his body was craving so much. Damn it, he really needed to just get over it and kiss you.

You smiled warmly, leaning in again with pause enough to allow him time to decide. To your delight, he pressed forward, lips crashing soft and wet against yours, and as you parted your lips to encourage his tongue, he moaned loudly into your mouth while his fingertips drove hard into the flesh at your waist.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, it was suddenly hard to remember to breathe, his needy whines and desperate grabbing clouding your thoughts causing your legs to tremble, but eventually you pulled away, panting.

‘Wow, Ken… that was-’

‘Terrible! I mean, you… you were great. I had no idea what I was doing. I'm not made for kissing, I’m only good at Beach.’ He shook his head, frustrated. ‘I shouldn’t have- mmh!… mmm…’

You shut him up instantly, diving back for more and inadvertently pushing him to lay back on the bed. You straddled him naturally, conscious thought still lost in the haze of excitement.

‘You- you liked it?’ he breathed huskily as you pulled up to get a look at how pretty he was, breathless with anticipation beneath you.

You nodded, humming in approval. ‘And it feels like you did too,’ you smirked, grinding down against his already aching erection.

The noise he made was unearthly, a growl and a whimper and a groan and a desperate exhale all at once. The pressure he had been feeling there released ever so slightly with a small pearl of precum, affording him a moment of bliss between the aching neediness.

You stilled, worried you’d hurt him somehow, but his eyes widened revealing pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates, and you realised it had been a sound of pleasure, not pain.

‘What… was… THAT?’ he cried out breathlessly. ‘That felt incredible! Sublime! That’s it! That’s what I’ve been craving?! Do it again? Please-’

The last word tapered into a whine as you rolled your hips to grind against him again, and he flopped down onto the pillow, eyes rolling back with overwhelming sensations he couldn’t find the words for.

‘Ken?’ you asked softly, leaning down, ‘you’ve never had an orgasm before have you?’

He shook his head.

‘Do you want to?’

He couldn’t catch his breath and his reply came out as a husky whisper. ‘Will it feel like that again?’

‘Better,’ you grinned wickedly.

‘Oh fuck, yes,’ he mumbled, not even realising he’d sworn. ‘Please.’

You leaned in to kiss him again, igniting the flames inside him that had been roaring since the first time you held his hand. Ken moaned in anticipation, closing his eyes tightly, composing and preparing himself.

You rocked your hips only once more and he exploded, fists bunching the sheets while you continued to writhe against him, his back arching off the bed and tears prickling at his eyes as his orgasm tore through every fibre of his being.

It was like nothing else. How had he never so much as wondered what this would be like until he had entered the real world and discovered human feelings and thoughts… and needs.

His chest heaved as he came down from his high, lazily lifting an arm to rest over his forehead in complete surrender while he tried to claw his way back to the present, with you.

When he opened his eyes, he was met with you smiling down at him, nothing short of smug.

‘Was that- did I-?’ he stuttered.

‘You sure did,’ you panted, hesrt pounding and heat rushing down to keeping your own arousal simmering. God, he was a picture, mussed hair and pink cheeks and heavy eye lids.

‘Oh… oh, that was, it was-’

You chuckled, climbing off him to settle at his side, where he turned to face you.

‘Should I have… you know? Was there something I didn’t do? You didn’t…’

The concern in his eyes was endearing, but you laughed again and he relaxed. Another tear slid down his cheek as you caressed his arm tenderly.

‘Don’t worry, Ken, we have time for that. I get the feeling you’ll be great at… doing stuff. Besides, that wasn’t quite the whole thing. I’m glad it felt good, but there’s a lot more I can show you. If you want me to…’

Ken snorted a disbelieving laugh. ‘Well, good, because these urges I’ve been getting? I think they might have actually been for-’

‘Orgasms,’ you interrupted with a smirk. ‘Yeah, humans tend to get that a lot.’

‘I’m not surprised! How do you get through the day without doing that at regular intervals?’

You laughed, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. ‘It will calm down when you’re a little more used to it. In the meantime… let’s make the most of your libido, yes?’

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed eagerly, as though the word libido meant anything at all to him. Nevertheless, he was as eager as anything for another round.

‘I’m going to start undressing you this time… if that’s alright?’ you muttered seductively, kissing at his collar bone while your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt.

‘Of course. You don’t have a body like mine for nothing. Well, I suppose it’s main purpose is for Beach, but-’

‘Ken?’

‘Yeah?’

You didn’t use any more words, and he suddenly lost all concept of his own thoughts when your hand slid inside his beach shorts.

‘How does this feel?’ you whispered as your fingers wrapped loosely around his thick length and pumped slowly, lightly. You didn’t want to overwhelm him too soon.

‘R-real- f-fucking- oh!- good, hnnng…’

[multimilfs]

Farah Dowling x Fem!Reader: With Power

Summary: Farah Dowling + 97 — “If you interrupt me one more time—so help me god.”

Prompts found here!

A/N: Okay so this is a little different. When I write I usually aim for a good 1k range at the least. This time around, I wanted to see if I could tell a story without going beyond a few hundred words. Originally, I wanted to try for 100, but couldn’t see it working with this prompt. Maybe another time!

I hope you all don’t mind the experimental nature of this. Enjoy!!

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix

Warning(s): Angst, No happy ending

With power, comes sacrifice.

You know that and accepted it long ago… but you never anticipated the sacrifices you’d make for someone else’s power; for Farah’s. None of which she asked for, but all of it you’d give again.

Being a figurehead and projecting strength was always important to Farah. She wanted to be the image of a leader young Fairies could trust and believe in. 

You told her once, You don’t need to be strong for me to believe in you. She had given you a fond smile and shake of her head, squeezing your hand where she held it in her own. 

Somewhere along the way Farah got lost. Headmistress Dowling became all of her. You love all of her, but you couldn’t love only a figurehead. 

“If you interrupt me one more time—so help me god.” The headmistress had snapped the last time you saw her, “Pull yourself together.” 

Her words had been meant to strike and strike they did; you pulled yourself together and left Alfea, vision blurry as it faded behind you. Your home… isn’t yours anymore. 

With power, comes sacrifice. And you’ve sacrificed everything.  

[ryehoneyinkstains]

Alleviate my pains

Severus Snape | Reader

mini drabble.

Severus hates ghosts, but the one haunting his classroom might not be so bad after all. [This was going to be romantic but I changed my mind]

He doesn't know when she came to appear, if she was recently deceased or if she had always been there. There were plenty of ghosts that refused to show themselves, that clung to the walls of the school because they had no other choice. Some were bitter, others were quiet; asleep.

He had noticed her during Winter break of his third year teaching, had caught her bent over a potion of his, breathing deeply as if she could somehow smell the ingredients inside. Or perhaps she tried to feel the warmth of the fire, her eyes closed as she simply stood there, a slight blue haze in the darkness of his classroom.

Severus had been worried that Peeves had attracted another poltergeist, and he did not fancy having his potions toyed with. So he slammed the door closed, watch as she startled and went through his station, turning around in shock.

"Out," he had said, "I'm not above exorcising you."

It was a direct threat. A promise even, he would do it.

But she didn't press, didn't try to play a prank on him like Peeves would. She simply stared at him in horror, as if he was the ghost.

"I won't repeat myself." he said, taking a step forward. He had never performed an exorcism, but there was always room to learn.

She had looked back at the bubbling cauldron, had sighed with such a sadness before disappearing into thin air, the spot she had occupied lingered with a soft glow before the darkness of the classroom swallowed it whole.

He had inspected the cauldron, had stuck his nose as close as possible and tried to see if he could smell a difference. Was there something else there besides what he had added? He could not tell.

With a huff, he waved the potion away, the cauldron emptied as the raging fire became nothing but glowing embers. He knew that some apparitions could train themselves to grab material things, could momentarily cross over the veil of death and interact with the world around them.

Not many could, but the Wolfsbane he had been brewing for almost a day straight could not afford to be tempered with. It was a precaution, one that found its way underneath his skin and irritated him, but one that he had to take nonetheless.

He sets out to gather more ingredients, vowing to salt the girl the next time he saw her.

She always came at night.

Always when he had a potion brewing, when he was foolish enough to step out for a bit.

He had caught her a few more times. Always bent over the potion, eyes closed.

Every single time he would shoo her out, whether with threats or via accidental startling her.

It was not until the very most recent time, when he had attempted to set a trap for her, having grown tired of tossing potions he had worked so hard on, that he realized a tiny little detail about her visits.

She appeared out of thin air, as if she was always there in the room, invisible to his eye. Immediately she went towards his potions station. He was going to scare her off with threats of going to the ministry, of sic'ing the Spirit Division on her, until she sighed and turned her cheek against the open flame, his potion lying untouched besides the fire.

It confused him. Ghosts had no way to feel physical sensations, to feel things such as heat or cold. Yet there she stood, face above the fire as if somehow she could feel the warmth that came from it.

He watched, just the bit intrigued.

She didn't add anything to his potion, didn't show any sort of inkling that she might have nefarious intentions. She just stood there in front of the fire. Unmoving.

Finally he pushed open the door he had been peeking through and stepped into the classroom.

"What are you doing?" he asks, unsure if its curiosity or confusion that has him needing an answer.

She startled and if she was human, she would have burnt her arm, the way it slipped into the flames. But she wasn't, she was long dead.

He could see the way she began to fade, the edges of her transparent body blurring even more.

"I just want to know," he blurts out, holding his hands up. "Why are you messing with my potions?"

"Potions?"

Her voice is soft, young. She must have been a student when she passed.

"You come here every single time I have a potion brewing, why? What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I can't do anything to them." As if to prove her point she puts her hand through the cauldron and waves it up and down. The potion does not stir.

He clenches his jaw. "Then why are you bothering me?"

She looks at him with nothing short of confusion. "But I never come when you're here?"

"It's a bother anyways!" He snaps. "I've had to to toss too many potions because of you. Do you have any idea how many ingredients I've wasted? How many of them are a pain to acquire?"

"But-" she begins, hand flying back towards the cauldron.

"I thought you were a poltergeist. Or one of those migraine inducing ghosts that thrive to be one. I had to be safe."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

There is honest sadness in her eyes, her mouth drooping down.

"Why are you here?" he reiterates, pushing for an answer.

"I..." she looks behind her, at the fire that he can see through her. "I miss the warmth."

Its not answer he was expecting, and he finds himself lost for words. She was here for the fire this entire time?

"I wanted to see if I could feel it again. Maybe if I stood near it for long enough the chill would go away. But it doesn't work."

"Of course it wont work." Severus says, finding this whole thing ridiculous. "Feelings are a mortal thing."

"I was hopeful." she said, her voice heavy. "Its been so long."

He's tempted to ask how long she's roamed the halls of the school but finds that its not the most appropriate question. So he asks something else.

"Why my classroom? Why not the library, the great hall? All these places have fireplaces. Why do you come here?"

"I'm stuck here."

It's a sobering realization that at one point a girl as young as her had died in the classroom he now occupied. Was it a potion that had done it? A hex gone wrong? He could not picture it, could not fathom how a professor had allowed such a thing to happen.

"I'm sorry. I wont come back." she began to fade again, began to slip into that place he could not see.

There was no possible way that he could simply forget that she was always there, hiding somewhere in his class. It made him uncomfortable.

"Don't," he said before she disappeared forever. "Are you sure you're not messing with my potions?"

She nodded and he clenched his teeth. "Then I will leave the fire on for you at night. I don't want you disturbing my students, they're already struggling as it is."

"You don't-"

He cut her off.

"I don't have to? I'm just supposed to act like you have not just burdened me with the knowledge of my classroom being a trap for a ghost? I will light the fire, but I do not want to see you again. Is that understood? You will not show yourself when I am here anymore and I will try to act like my every move isn't being watched."

"I can't see when I slip into the fade." she's trying to reassure him that he had some semblance of privacy, even as the excitement in her voice was clear as day. "You're always alone."

"Good." he snaps, walking towards the potion station and carefully grabbing his cauldron. "Let's keep it that way." He made sure to keep a distance from her.

He would go down into his quarters to finish this potion. He had enough of this already, a hint of a headache already crawling up his spine.

"Are you not going to turn the fire off?" she asked as he neared the door.

"It's yours for the night. Try not to burn my classroom down." He means it. He would trap her in a mirror if she did such a thing.

He could hear her thank him as he closed the door, grumbling about what a pain ghosts are.

[ryehoneyinkstains]

Honey and Ink

Severus Snape x Reader

Drabble.

Severus just wants to read his book but the rainy weather calls for cuddling.

It's an extremely horrible idea, pestering Severus Snape while he reads. One would think that by now you would know better than to bother the man when he wanted peace. But the rain would not give and cloudy weather always made you feel alone.

You wanted to be in his arms, to have him soothe your silly feelings away. You wanted to be comforted by the man you were so hopelessly in love with. Its why you gather your strength and call his name.

He does not answer, far too engrossed in the pages of the book. Or perhaps he's giving you a chance to realize how absolutely absurd you were acting, letting the weather dictate your mood.

"Severus?" you call his name again, a bit more weight behind your voice. Absurd or not, you needed him.

"What is it?" He says, his eyes meeting yours. The annoyance in his voice wasn't lost to you but you weren't about to lose your nerves now.

"Could you..." you trail off, shaking your head as you change your mind. There was no need to bother him, you could just head upstairs and call it an early night. The rain was bound to be gone by morning and then all of this would be nothing more than a passing mood. "It's nothing, I'm sorry."

Severus sighs, setting his book down on his lap, his undivided attention on you. "What bothers you, love?" his voice is soft now, just like his eyes. You wonder if he can see the turmoil inside of you. The rain pelts the window harder, and you don't care anymore if you're a bother.

"I just... I feel so overwhelmed. The rain, the loneliness, it's all getting to me. I thought I could handle it on my own, but... I don't know anymore. I think I'm just being ridiculous." you say while taking a step forward, your body seeking his.

"Come." he says, offering his hand to you. It's a command and you are happy to oblige.

You do no hesitate in taking it, your fingers caressing his palm as he wraps his own around your wrist. His touch is grounding, a weight upon your anxious thoughts that almost manages to suffocate them. His thumb begins to rub circles against your wrist and you don't know if what you want to do is cry or crawl into his lap and inhale the scent of him.

He makes that decision for you. Putting his book on the table in front of him, Severus gently pulls you onto his lap. It takes a bit of maneuvering until you are sitting comfortably, your legs between his. Your back is pressed against the arm of the chair and his hand is on your hip. You can hear him grunt, but you don't ask if he finds you uncomfortable.

You don't want to have to move.

Instead, you sink into him, into the soft warmth he radiates. The gentle way his chest rises and falls with every breath becomes the very comfort you needed.

"Hand me my book." he whispers, his fingers pushing your shorts up your leg, his fingers tracing shapes into your thigh.

"Will you read to me?" you ask, reaching over to grab the book. He takes it with his free hand, the other one refuses to leave your thigh.

He simply hums, fingers sliding dangerously higher before he shuffles around to hold the book with both hands, cocooning you against him.

You lean your cheek against his shoulder, mindful of his hair and you don't say anything about the way he leans his head onto your own before he begins to read.

At first you try to follow, your eyes scanning the words as he reads them to you. But you find yourself uncaring of the story. He's too far in for you to properly understand and you do not want to ask him to explain.

So you focus on him.

Its an intimate act, the way he whispers just you. His voice a gentle murmur that resonates within the small space between the two of you. It's a caress and you so wished that you could find his books interesting.

"Turn the page for me." He says, and you don't hesitate in reaching up and doing as he asks.

"Good girl," he praises you before returning to the task at hand.

Your face warms as you pray that the rain never stops.

[smilingformoney]

“Right - Harry. Go to Snape’s office. The Headmaster’s office, not the dungeon. Put those memories in the pensieve. I don’t know what he wants you to see, but he’s been trying to get to you all night, I guarantee it’s important. The password is nightingale. Ron, Hermione - with me. Don’t let anyone get in my way.”

“What are you going to do?” Hermione asked.

Abbie slipped one arm under Snape’s knees, one under his torso, and lifted him up as she stood.

“I’m going to finish saving my father’s life.”

Soul of Ice, Chapter 45, The Beginning of the End

Art by @aurus-3d ​

[aurus-3d]

Thank you so much for trusting me with doing this! 

[ominousminx]

Oh, the feels.