#missmeasured

[missmeasured]

My husband: Do you want me to act like Snape?

Me: *thinks he is going to do his very bad impression* No!

My husband: I’m Snape. I have a position of authority but I’m darkly vulnerable.

Me: *dies laughing* Shut up!

Husband: I have so much love to give but I don’t know how to give it.

[missmeasured]

Hi I’m not sure if you are accepting requests but would you have consider writing a one shot where Snape performs oral sex on a female reader thats very shy and he makes her feel confident enough to open up for him please!

Hi Anon, you are officially the first fan fiction request! How exciting! I went a little down a rabbit hole with this. In my answer both he and reader and demi sexuals who become friends and then it's very suddenly a lot more. I've left open to interpretation how they know each other exactly. Word count 3888 - a lot longer than I set out to write but what can you do?! It moves through me.

Thanks for @5everus as always for beta reading and for giggling with me until our abs hurt.

(Content Warnings: NSFW, Reader has a vagina, fingering, oral sex.)

The Centre of His Singular Attention 

Severus and I had been friends for a while, that was clear to me, but not at first. Happy acquaintanceship had slipped into friendship without my initial notice. Then one day we were talking, in spite of the fact that so frequently we would both be silent on the outside of group conversations together. It makes sense then, that the friendship had also slipped into another category without my notice. Slippery little categories. 

When he was my acquaintance I’m not sure I noticed his quietly handsome features. The way he carried himself was attractive of course, but I had never thought to think of him as available to me of all people, or to anyone. That man seemed an island unto himself. I am also prone not to notice attractiveness until I know someone deeply. Perhaps I missed the signs of something more due to my density in that regard.

At some point after we had accidentally slipped into friendship, I began to notice how funny he was. That cutting, dry sense of humour that he frequently used to defend himself was present also in friendly conversations begun about books. Somehow these conversations about books had turned into us going to the theatre. Some relationship between the contents of the first book we had talked about and the play. So we went, and that had been pleasant, and suddenly we were seeing plays together. 

These plays only seemed to create more discussions. These were not dates; they were mutual explorations of topics through different mediums. After one play we were talking so animatedly that I invited him up to my apartment for a glass of wine so we did not have to cut the dialogue short. When the bottle was long gone, slipped by like the categories of our friendship  I found his eyes fixed on me in a way I was not particularly accustomed to. 

Perhaps I can pinpoint the moment our friendship slipped. It was that one right there, when he set down his wineglass and fixed me with that determined set of his eyes. It made me feel hot all over. I tried to escape it by taking the glasses to my kitchen sink but when I turned around I found him behind me. 

Fleet of foot, he is. Sneaking in around the sides of my heart and the door of my kitchen. Merlin only knows what was said between when I turned around and when his lips met mine, because I do not remember. 

His kiss was unlike anything I had ever known to want. 

The blood turned around in my veins, seeking the very centre of me. My mind, which had been so occupied by his interesting questions and thoughts had gone suddenly blank except a repeated refrain of wanting more. 

I did not over analyse the fact that somehow, I had ended up on my kitchen counter and my legs were around him and I did not doubt myself in my own desirability because it has been so fast. We were both two glasses deep afterall. Unfortunately that fact: those two glasses of wine were the reason he cited for stopping this kiss. He apologised for being too forward, for kissing me without permission. He asked if he had overstepped. 

I was all embarrassment at my needy wanting. It was all well and good of him to come to his senses and begin to gather his coat like a gentleman, but Merlin how badly had I not wanted him to. My answers to his worries had been quiet, meek, assurances that his advances had been welcome.

As he went to leave I looked at him for several long seconds and internally screeched at myself for my lack of words. My inability to tell this man that the moment he had looked at me like that I had been instantly made his. I had gulped and run away to the kitchen, yes, but I had also known deep inside myself that I wanted him to pursue me. The escape being only temporary had confirmed the wanting, it was more than a passing glance. He wanted me more than just the wine might have incited. 

Now, I stood outside of his house with the book he had leant me in hand. I shifted anxiously foot to foot because the last time we had seen each other we had kissed and he had lifted me up onto my counter top like I weighed nothing. When he answered the door he still had those eyes he had looked at me with last time. Oh Merin. I thought. Keep your wits. 

He invited me in for tea and we discussed the book a little. I took off my coat and hat and threw them into an armchair in his living space. I had been here once before but never for any real duration. The living room was situated in such a way that it always felt like it was later than it truly was, the north facing windows and heavy bookshelves made it seem twilight when truthfully the sun shone still outside. 

He brought back a tea tray and the brown teapot was to steep away under its cosy for a few moments while we discussed the book and waited for it to be ready. It sat there on the coffee table in front of us, we both sat on the small sofa. When I tore my eyes off the teapot he smirked at me and with the tilt of his head or the twist of his lips I am not sure why, but suddenly I was talking too quickly in response to his questions about the book. He seemed amused by this and I cut myself off mid thought. Telling him not to mind, that I hadn’t been sure what I had meant. 

But clever Severus had been listening and he prompted me, telling me back all my words and stringing them into tangible thoughts, he presented them back to me as if I could somehow make those strung together thoughts into a point but I could not.

“Are you quite well? You seem awfully nervous today.”

“I am quite fine, thanks. Just. Sorry. Just-” What is wrong with my mouth?

“Just?” He prompts.

“Just.. Well I suppose I am nervous. Last time we-”

“Last time I kissed you.” He was matter of fact but the intensity in his eyes made my stomach flip.

“Yup. That.” I answer inelegantly. My face feels like it is boiling hot, am I sweating? Why is all my blood surging up to my face but not to my brain where it might help me? I do not know what to say.

“And you are nervous because you have come to tell me that you would rather I not do it again?”

“No!” Oh gods oh gods oh gods. “It’s not that at all-”

“If it is not that you have come to tell me not to, does a man dare to hope it’s the opposite?”

“...yes…” I spit out.

“Ah. My poor anxious thing. Would it make you feel more relaxed if I kissed you again now and got it over with? I would like to hear your opinions on the ending of the book at a speed that I am able to fully understand.” He teased. 

“Only if you want to…”

He placed his hand on my knee. I stared at it, his smallest fingers wrapped around to the inside of the beginning of my thigh and I felt quite sure that I had never been affected by someone’s touch in the way I was currently being affected by his. “I have no wish to make you so jittery.” He squeezed my knee reassuringly but the seconds ticked on and no kissing spontaneously began. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn't handle another second of this. I turned toward him and thank Merlin he was waiting for me. We melted together.

This time I remembered in great clarity what had transpired before the kissing, but it was how the kissing had transitioned that slipped away from me. Like the tea in that pot went from regular to strong to very bitter and eventually to undrinkable we seemed to have moved from kissing upright in sweet tender exploration to at some point being practically horizontal and there were strong notes of desire brewing. 

That same sensation that the blood was all flowing to one very specific part of me was back with a vengeance. It had not been the wine then. At some point he pulled away from me marginally. In the space between our lips we both caught our breath for a moment. “If I put my hand here on your thigh,” He sat up a bit so he could slide his hand up my tights and under my skirt  “would you think me terribly forward and moving too quickly?”

I shook my head no. I had never wanted to be touched so badly in all my life. One might say it was too soon, but truth be told we had been getting to know each other for so long, I had just never thought it was for any reason other than friendship. That hand slid all the way up my leg and one single finger brushed for a split second against my apex. I gasped a little.

“That little gasp…” he smirked.

“What about it?” I asked self consciously.

“Is that little gasp a ‘yes Severus…please keep going Severus… kind of gasp? Or is it a ‘get your hand out of my dress you brute’ kind of gasp?” He asked.

“The first one.” I breathe. His eyes are so fixed on me they make me nervous yet again.

“Oh what good news.” He began to trace feather light patterns over my thighs until I bite my lip in needing. “What about here?” He asks as he finally touches me. “Ah yet another inhale. A good one?” He asks.

I nod emphatically. He begins to touch me in a way that has little whimpers falling out of my lips. He keeps switching between dragging teasing, light, slow touches over my centre through my tights and underthings and pressing into me gently, massaging little moans out of me faster than I can handle without feeling shameful about my eagerness. I reach over toward his torso running my hands down him reach to try to return the touching.

“Ah ah. Where are these naughty hands going?”

“To touch you?”

“You’re trying to distract me. I’m trying to learn a new language. I need to learn what all these tiny little breaths and whimpers mean. My sweet shy one, I need to hear you tell me in your quiet way what feels nice. I can’t be pursuing my own pleasure when I need so much to hear you. Watch your microscopic expressions.” He leaned in to kiss me again and I tried to draw him into it but he broke off again. “May I take these off?” He asked of my tights. I nodded and I lifted my hips as his hands slid up my legs and found the top of the waistband. His fingers hooked the top of my panties too and wasn’t sure if he intended it. I open my mouth to protest but he has them now it’s too late. 

When they appear below the hem of my skirt all attached to my tights I chagrin to see how damp they are. There is a bit of glistening wetness in the middle where his fingers had coaxed the fabric into me. I wanted to curl up into the couch and die at seeing him see it. He raises his eyebrow in smug acknowledgment. His hand disappears back under my dress and he pushes my thighs slightly apart. 

His fingertips slip up to my entrance and find my arousal there, apparently my wetness is cause to tug at the corner of his mouth into a little smile. I’ve never had a man so intent on staring at my face while he does this. Most are so hurried to get to their part, this part usually doesn't last very long. 

I think he is going to push those exploring fingers inside me but they linger at my entrance. When they move, it’s not inside me but up to my clit. I’m left panting as he paints me in my own slickness. He is very thorough. I wonder if he is mapping me while not having even laid eyes on any of my intimate places yet. My dress still covers me from his view. 

He focuses on that very sensitive spot at the top of my sex and I am made to make all manner of whimpers as he tries different kinds of strokes, trying different directions, pressures. I wondered idly if he had a mental checklist he was going through. Yet it was not rudimentary or scientific, not with the way his eyes burned with excitement when I couldn’t keep my comfortable quiet. 

When he bent over and kissed my knee I panicked and grabbed him by the front of his clothes. “Don’t-”

“Kissing your knee is your limit then?” He teases.

“No- it’s just- I’m ready… I don’t need anything else to be ready for more.” Face is hot again. Panic. Panic. It’s daylight. He’ll see everything. 

“Ah she admits she wants more. What is “more” darling? I know only it’s not knee kissing. You seem quite affronted.” 

I realise now I’m still holding him by his clothes, trying to stop his mouth from travelling up my legs like I knew it would. I unclench his garments with embarrassment. You are a grown adult you could say, sex. No, he will tease you at your lack of specifics. You could ask him to fuck you. That’s awfully vulgar. Use your… oh Merlin is there a single word for his penis I can say out loud right now? “I want to do something where you are having fun too.” I eventually cobble together. 

“I’m already having fun.” He informs with a wicked smirk. The coffee table covered in forgotten tea and snacks is floated gently away from the sofa as he kneels down in front of me on the floor. I gulp. Those eyes. When he had been my acquaintance they had occasionally twinkled at me in shared understanding, as friends in a shared joke, but now they seemed capable of so much more. One glance and I find myself utterly incapable of voicing my manifold insecurities.

He pulls my legs, and I am rotated so my firmly pressed together knees are against his chest. He places his hands on them and caresses me with both thumbs. The sensation goes straight to my needy middle. “I hope you know, I am not the kind of person to press you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable.” He says it so slowly and quietly that my body seems to goosebump as a way of making me more capable of hearing him. As if each raised hair follicle was a willing ear and they reached out to listen to his voice as it washed over me. 

I wait, my breath shaking. He is examining me closely. He bends down and kisses that knee again, looks up, waits for me to freak out and grab him again. I do not. My hands are clenched into the couch cushions. 

“However…” his breath slips up my bare thigh. “I have this notion that you might be playing shy on me.”

His hand slides up and pushes my dress higher, revealing more of my pressed together legs. He moves his face up incrementally, kissing the top of my thigh again. He waits for my hands to fly out and push him away. The hand goes higher, his thumb under the fabric, his fingers above it. That thumb slides all the way up until it touches my sex and my thighs are completely uncovered. “Are you intent on playing shy on me?” He asks. His lips deposit more kisses on a path upwards. I squirm, I want, I desire, I fear. 

“I’m not playing shy. I am shy.” I respond. 

He lifts his face back up off my thighs and looks at me again. I become aware I am biting my lip.

“What if… I spread your legs open right now, so wide that I will see everything? What harm will it do?”

“I would be embarrassed. You might…”

“I might what? Not like what I see? What I taste?”

I am some combination of horrified and aroused. My nipples are hardening at the thought of his tongue. My mind is reeling at the possibility of being so bared to him. 

“That’s the general fear.” I confirm, my voice horse.

“We can assuage one of those two fears presently.” He announces before bringing his fingers to his mouth. I want to protest but I don’t even have the time, I have to watch him savour my taste, he smiles. “As to what I will see, I have already felt, and what I felt, I liked very much…”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay then.” I reply shakily. What else am I to say, I want him to touch me again so badly.

“Oh no, do you think I’m going to pull these knees apart and force my way in? No my sweet. Open them for me. Show me.”

I gulp. Those fingers he had put in his mouth glistened and I wanted them inside of me desperately. So very badly that I was helpless but to follow instructions. I opened my legs incrementally, watching him watch me. He was devouring my flesh with his eyes and I felt myself getting even wetter at it. I tried to stop at some reasonable amount of openness but he prompted me to pull my feet up on the sofa, near my behind. 

My thighs were as open as they possibly could be. I tried not to think about exactly what all he could see this way. Everything. I quivered while I waited for his move. At last hands on my thighs. He rubbed both of them while he looked his fill. 

“What good was it going to do? Hiding this pretty little pussy from me?” His right hand comes up and caresses me for the first time since I’ve been uncovered to him. I shudder as he draws his fingers along me. 

“I had no idea you had this kind of mouth on you.” I laugh awkwardly. His filthy tongue was kind of a surprising delight, even if it made my face feel hot.

“Shall I put it back on you?” He asked before beginning kissing his way up my thigh. Every kiss sent jolts of lighting down the path to his destination and when he finally reached my centre he kissed me just above all my sensitive parts on my mons, then looked up at me as he finally took my most sensitive spot into his mouth. 

I threw my head back in pleasure. My gasping breaths ragged and plentiful, ever multiplying as he lapped at me. The more he licked me the more I felt empty inside, the more my body pulled up against nothing. I wanted his fingers. Was he ever going to give them?

I let myself give soft little whimpers of yearning in hopes he would provide me more stimulation but he seems intent just to lavish his attention on my clit. I was worried he was going to make me ask. I felt embarrassed even thinking about being made to ask for him. 

When he suddenly answered my silent prayers I could not stop the moan that pushed out of me. “Ah she does have a voice.” My friend turned lover stopped to tease and I clenched onto his fingers in anticipation of his mouth’s return to my body. 

That moan seemed only to be the beginning. I could not stop myself from telling him in the most animalistic way what he was doing to me. Even though I was chagrined inside at each noise, the way he used the combination of his fingers and his mouth meant I was helpless to stop them. 

I whimpered as I realised that this man’s steady pace meant I was going to climax right here on his sofa. I had learned from going to see plays with him that he was fast on the uptake and never missed a detail but I had not expected him to use his powers on me so effectively.

Every breath and whimper I had let out he had catalogued and filed away and used it against me now. His tongue repeated some kind of pattern that made me clench around his fingers. His fingers. Merlin help me, we’re hitting that excellent spot inside me everytime. Two of them, stretching me out just enough that I felt like I was being fucked by something all together bigger. 

The word shy had no meaning to me as I climbed that peak. His fingers drove into me again and again and each time a new and different sound escaped me until it hit me. I did not make any embarrassing noises as I came, but my mouth was wide open in a silent scream of pleasure as he pushed me over that edge. 

My panting afterward was heavy and fragmented like I had been holding my breath. He joined me on the sofa and pulled my now limp legs over his lap, pulling my skirt down until I was almost lady-like again. One would never know I had just climaxed a moment before except my stockings and panties lay discarded on the floor still, my breathing was not calm, and I was willing to bet my hair was a mess as I had writhed around against the back of the sofa while he had done that to me.

Halfway in his lap he pulled my face over to his and gave me a soft kiss. “Do you feel less anxious now?” He asked teasingly but with sweetness in it. I could only laugh. “I am eager to know what you were trying to say about the book before all that. Do you remember?” 

“No!” I laugh, covering my face with my hands. “I can’t believe that just happened! We aren’t even dating! I’ve never done anything like that unless I’ve dated someone for months!”

“Well why don’t you pretend all our friendly excursions were dates?”

“Because they weren’t!”

“If you like you can stay for dinner. We can call it date one.” 

“Putting the cart before the horse, I think.”

“Not at all. Stay for dinner. Tell me, what other ways are you likely to act shy for me? I rather enjoy drawing you out.”

“Stop!” I covered my face again as heat rushed to it.

“Don’t start with that now or I will be taking you upstairs presently.” He smirked. He pulled the book over from the side table. “Now I believe you were trying to stammer out something about chapter three and you had better get your wits about you or I shall have to assume you require more relaxing.”

[missmeasured]

Miss Measured's Bedtime Stories

I was telling myself a story to fall asleep to, I do this every night. Sometimes I repeat them. (SOTS readers I used to tell myself Blackfeet every night for about ten years.) I think I'm going to start sharing some of my bedtime stories I tell myself. So maybe this will be a part one...

This first one is about travelling with Severus on a train. You're on a mission, I've left it up to you to decide what team they are on a mission for. You're pretending to be married and when a man starts acting like a creep to you, you find yourself having to ask your fake husband to help you out. His surprisingly defensive response leaves you a little... turned on.

Snape x Reader (called 'wife/girl' no body parts mentioned) Rating: Mature

Untitled Train Day Dream

You can’t remember if this is your third mission with Severus Snape or your fourth. All you know is you work well together and compared to everyone else you would choose him again as a mission companion without question. This one seems like it will be a long haul. A lot of travelling the old fashioned way over distances too far to apparate. That’s how you came to be on this train in the middle of some European forest. The trees look black as the night outside the windows you can see absolutely nothing. 

The mission had several goals, small and big, a lot to do, to keep track of. You were travelling under fake names and in the guise of being a married couple. Not so much for this leg of the journey but later it would matter, in old parts of the world where you did not go alone into a hotel room with a man who was not your husband. You needed to stop spinning your fake rings around your finger, but it was currently soothing you. 

During dinner a man had been staring at you from across the dining car. When he smiled at you he just looked wrong, his mouth had too many teeth angling for position in the frame of his lips. His eyes never left you, but in the dining car Severus had his back to him and you didn’t want to risk trying to whisper about it when the man might read on your lips what you were trying to say. So you ignored him and held your mug of tea a little closer and played cards with your fake husband to pass the time.

The trip was booked at the last moment and for this part of the journey there had been no compartments available that would suit pretending to be married, so you were making do with two berths. He had taken the lower bed and you were going to be on the top bed. The little ladder to yours in front of his. 

While Severus was brushing his teeth, that man slunk up and began to talk to you. Talking was not a crime in and of itself but he had waited until your feet were up on your ladder and you were digging in your suitcase for your nightclothes. The way he positioned his feet blocked your escape down the ladder. You were forced to make niceties with the traveller who kept looking at your suitcase like he was hoping to see something lacey fly out of it for his viewing pleasure. He licked his teeth when it was your turn to talk. He made your skin crawl. Your escape came when you said “I think my husband is almost done in the lavatory if that’s what you were coming this way for.” The man eventually takes his leave when that door opens and you shiver off his presence. 

You collect your nightclothes and your tooth brush and wait for the lavatory to be free, positioning yourself in your bunk so you can see when that man is gone back to his own and it’s clear. Still, when you open the door to head to bed after you finish, he is back again blocking your path once more. He leans over you with his ‘fancy meeting you here’ routine. When you once again evade him you walk over to your bunks and find Severus’ curtain already closed. “Husband?” You ask.

One half of the bed curtains open by magic to reveal him tucked in and reading under the lamp on the wall of the berth. “Yes, wife?” He asks as he looks up.

You perch on the edge of his bed and lean in so you can whisper about the man. He has thoroughly creeped you out now and you think you ought to tell Severus in case he tries something. “Get in here.” Severus instructs, pulling back his blankets. You see the lavatory door starting to move at the end of the train car so you hop in as your fake husband suggested, and let him pull you in against his chest. He rubs your back and from that position you get to look up and watch your pretend husband glare at the man pointedly as he makes his way back to his bed.

“Do you want to stay down here? Or we could switch bunks in case he comes sniffing around. I know several defensive charms I could put around your bed to keep you safe.”

“I hate to ask you but can I stay for a few minutes until I calm down?”

“Of course.” He answered and his bed curtains closed themselves again. You count your breathing as you rest your head on him. You should probably stop cuddling the poor man but the bed is small and where else are you going to go? You read his book since it’s open to your eyes as well, something about historical potions ingredients. It makes you feel sleepy.

When he closes the book he places it in the little storage nook you know you are going to have to shift and maybe now is the time you should take your leave. You’re about to suggest you should go but then you smell that man’s cologne. He's outside the curtains you’re sure. You tell Severus, sitting up and brushing his hair behind his ear, your lips making contact with his ear so you don’t have to make a noise louder than a breath in order to explain. 

Severus switched off his lamp and you both peer at the shadows of something moving in the corridor. Could be anyone walking to the lavatory, but it isn’t. You hear the distinct noise of the broken latch on your suitcase and you almost fling the curtain open to hex this asshole right that second, but Severus is moving and suddenly he’s on top of you. He presses his fingers to your mouth to tell you to be quiet. 

He runs his wand all along the seam of the bed curtains. You want to tell him to stop, don’t just defend the bed, he’s likley up there stealing your underthings as we speak, but he keeps those fingers over your mouth while he works. Finally he leans down to whisper in your ear. Your fake husband’s weight on top of you is pressing you into the mattress, his leg between your legs, he comes down on his elbows and says “Trap.” In your ear and you are confused and make a face then realise in the dark he cannot see it.

You’re about to whisper ‘What?’ back to him but he puts a finger over your lips again. Something inside of you clenches at having his hands all over your lips, it's a strange kind of feeling. He hasn't touched you very much before tonight. In the dark you take inventory of this feeling, the weight of him, you remember him rubbing your back while he played the protective husband. 

Nothing could prepare you for your fake husband suddenly groaning, a sound purely sexual, inches from your face. “Yes…” he hissed. “Just like that. Oh good girl…” he moaned and you laid under him, eyes wide. What the fuck was he doing?

He quieted for a moment, pushing up off you to get a better view of the length of light at the top of the curtain. There was a shadow the approximate width of a man, no longer by the ladder. 

“Oh yes, you are my good girl, aren’t you? You do that trick so well, my love. Yes darling.” Severus moaned. The shadow moved, contemplated. You understood now, Severus was tempting the man to try to peek inside. 

You thought maybe you should help. So you let out a little closed mouth moan of excitement. Your mission partner took his finger off your mouth. He leaned back down and groaned “Yes… a little more. That’s my girl.” Him saying these things was making something happen inside you you hadn’t expected. You were getting a little too excited by his fake moans. His knee between yours was too enjoyable. 

You use your inappropriate excitement to fuel a slightly louder moan. That clinches it, the corner of the curtain slides on its track and then the man screams. The curtains fly open so you can watch the set of brass teeth the curtain rod had grown chomp down on his hand. Blood started spilling as he clasped at it and looked at you with hatred in his eyes.

“Let that teach you to keep to yourself. Accio stolen items.” Severus casts and several pairs of your underthings come flying out of the man's pockets and into your mission partner’s hands. “If you come near my wife again I’ll end you.” Severus threatens and then magics the curtains shut again and the lights on. 

“For you.” He hands off your items, which you shove into your robe pocket with ample embarrassment. “If it’s alright with you, I think you should stay down here just in case he has ideas. That way it's easy to wake me if you need an escort to the water closet. I don't want you alone on this train until we are free of him.”

“You are a very protective fake husband.” You tease.

“You are a very cherished mission partner.” He smiles. He climbs under the covers again. “Now. Does my wife want to be the little spoon or the big one?” He asks.

“Little.” You answer, and as his arm wraps around you and pulls you in you find yourself still affected by his deception from before. The way he had said good girl painted a picture in your mind you were having trouble shaking. The way it sounded in his voice had vibrated deep into your bones and now as your ass was pressed into his lap for the night you found yourself thinking about having sex with him. You needed to clear your mind of these thoughts about your mission partner. You two had a job to get done. 

A few minutes pass of thinking quietly in the dark. Trying not to let yourself enjoy this cuddle too much. It was just necessary, the bed was too small to lay side by side. You can't get comfortable, you’re fidgeting and probably keeping him awake in the process. 

“Stop wiggling.” He scolds and his lips are much closer to your ear than you anticipated. 

“Sorry.” You whisper. “I’m not trying to keep you up. My heart is racing.”

“I’m not worried about being kept up.”

“Sorry, I’ll keep still.” You repeat and clench your muscles into stiffness. It doesn't occur to you for several moments what he could be worried about if it's not about being kept awake. “This trip was so rushed I didn't really think about what it means to play a convincing married couple.” You whisper.

“It's a bit late to try and pass as siblings.” He laughs. “Why? What kind of convincing do you think we need to do?” 

“Do you think… we should practise kissing. Just incase?” You turn your body slightly, rolling in place, wishing you could make out his face in the dark for his reaction. 

“Oh little wife, I thought you might never ask.”

I'm picturing berths like Some Like it Hot. So that was the story I fell asleep to! Want more bedtime short stories? Let me know!

Sending love as usual to @5everus for beta reading my every silly thought.

[missmeasured]

THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE STARS AND THE STAIRCASE IS NOW OUT!!!!

Hi! It took a while, but it’s here. It’s finally here! My story is complete!

Read the ending on A03 or Wattpad

If you haven’t read it, ITS TIME!

[missmeasured]

You guys…. I have to say goodbye to my witch’s familiar today, my writing buddy, my chonky gremlin. Please send well wishes to Winnifred as she crosses that rainbow bridge.

[missmeasured]

Happy Saturday Friends!

Ready for a little more Belonging?

Read the new chapter on Wattpad or Ao3.

I think I want to post more than one this weekend. Can I get a little encouragement from the crowd? 😅😊

[missmeasured]

I don’t always write myself into stories but when I do I’m the overly horny writer girl with glasses and entirely too many day dreams. 😆🙈😘

I present! An excerpt from Belonging Chapter 10 -Staff Meeting, in which poor Madelyn Watson is being accosted by her best friends and fellow 7th year Hufflepuff girls. Featuring Hortencia who is my favourite little side character to write.

“When he touches you… does the pain melt away?” Hortencia asked with a poised quill, clearly she was going to write a thrilling epic about Madelyn’s current struggles.

“Yes… but stop saying it like it’s all romantic. My ears throb until I want to die, then he touches me and I don’t want to die. It’s not as fluffy as you make it out.” Madelyn freed her mouth from her pillow to answer.

“Was he whispering in your ear while you were doing the fish?” Hortencia had seen that then, of course. They were on the same team.

“Yeah… sorta…”

“Swoon! Tell me it was something devilish.”

Madelyn flipped over so her face was out. “You’ll like this Hortencia… he put the wedding ring I threw down the hall back on my finger inside the slime jar! Very hot stuff for you.” Madelyn rolled her eyes.

“He thrust the matrimonial band down her naked finger, he growled in her ear not to take it off again - someone get me more parchment! I need to write!”

Did this intrigue you? Read it here on Ao3 or Wattpad and let me know you came for Hortencia 🤓

[missmeasured]

Snape’s nose under your ear as he burrows into your neck from behind.