Hey There Could You Write A Short Story About Snape Catching His Beloved (female Reader) In A Little

Hey there could you write a short story about Snape catching his beloved (female reader) in a little white lie and punishing her for it? In a dominate way he could tie her up and remind her that lying is not what good girls do. The lie I have in mind is her lying when asked where she was at a certain time but he knows its false. In the end she was only trying to sneak around to get him a birthday suprise. I would like to see her hold out as long as possible before revealing the reason for her lie and maybe even be a little bit of a brat. If you can’t I understand and thank you for you’re time.

Hi Anon!

You’re in luck, and I take requests when they inspire me, and this definitely inspired me. I hope you like it!

Summary: You have just come home with Severus’ Birthday Preset, hell bent on keeping it a secret this year, but he already knows too much and you get caught in a a lie and end up being punished.

Notes: Pairing: Reader/Severus, 1st Person POV, Word Count: 4K

Content Warnings: Explicit NSFW . Reader has a vagina. Daddy kink. Ropes, spanking, vaginal fingering, Vaginal intercourse.

Daddy I’m Home

With a powerful thrust of my hip I swing the door open, struggling with the overloaded brown paper bags of groceries in my hands. “Home!” I huff out as I awkwardly kick my boots off and when I turn my head to the living room I see the Daily Prophet news sheet fold down, he looks at me from his favourite chair. I give him a smile as I rush to hide his gift before he stands up.

I move to the kitchen briskly, throwing the bags down on the counter and putting the parcel that contained his birthday present in a lower cupboard behind the potatoes. I get myself a sorely needed glass of water before putting the food away. I'm parched from rushing around to get home, I had been halfway running with the bags. When I turn around after downing my glass of water he startles me, he is right behind me. I hadn't heard him coming.

“You've been out longer than I thought.”

“Diagon Alley was busy.” I explain.

“Where did you go? Other than obviously the green grocer.”

“Florish and Blotts.”

“Yet…I see no books.”

“They didn't have that cookbook I wanted. Sold out already.” A damn shame because I had been hoping to try my hand at one of the recipe’s my friend made last night.

“Took up a lot of time, did it? Not buying a book?”

“Well I had to look to see if they had it first. What’s with the questioning?” I ask, internally scolding myself. I am already getting defensive and I had told myself I would not be.

“Well you've been gone quite some time. I really thought you would be home before me.”

“Well it took longer than I thought.”

“Indeed. You stopped nowhere else?”

“Okay you caught me! I stopped for an ice cream cone. I didn't tell you because I knew you would nag me about sweets before dinner but I was starving.” I confess to a minor transgression. Ice cream when I was about to cook for us. The roast would take at least an hour though. The ice cream had kept me going when I felt burnt out.

“Oh yes, I am no fun. It is wise to omit things that contain fun lest I become upset.” He is sarcastic, he seems annoyed.

“Why are you all grumpy?”

“Perhaps because my darling little sweetheart is lying to me.”

“I am not!” I hope my lie isn't obvious on my face. It's so hard to keep things a secret from him. How many times has he ruined a surprise for himself by being too observant? Hiding things from him was hard, he always knew when things were slightly out of place.

“You are. I was under the mistaken impression that you were a good girl, and above such nonsense as lying to my face.” He is baiting me to fight him. I told myself I would not ask him what is making him so nosey, it will give me away.

“Severus. I went to the bookstore, I got ice cream, I got groceries… maybe I chatted to too many friends along the way. Did too much window shopping. Would you scold me if something in the window of Madam Malkins caught my eye and I went in to see it?”

“I would scold you because you just lied to me again.”

I’m about to open my mouth- insist I hadn’t when I catch myself. He knows something, but I won’t ruin his birthday present just because he’s an overly observant taskmaster. I turn to try and unpack the food, to give myself time to make something else up. I take a single apple out of the bag when he raps his wand on the counter top loudly beside me and everything flies quickly to their homes, preventing me from using them as cover.

“Care to tell me what kept you?” He was looming in a manner which told me he was in a very particular mood. He was about to make a meal out of this interrogation and play with his food. In this case, me.

I start to walk away, around the island toward the living room door but suddenly he side steps me and I’m backed up against the fridge. “Did you wish to keep your coat on because you intend to run back out the front door or can I take it off?” He asks. I don't even answer, he is undoing the buttons already. Off it comes.

“Things take longer than we think sometimes. I think this dinner will take a while I should really get started…”

“Didn’t you just have an ice cream?”

“Yes but the roast needs a long time-“

“I am not so famished that I will expire if it's delayed.” He tucks some hair behind my ear as he says it. Then something coils around my ankles like a snake.

“Severus no-“ I start, not his ropes. I’m bad at keeping secrets from him at the best of times, tied up and being questioned, I’ll always fail.

“Don't start making demands. Good girls get to say no. Good girls that dont lie get to tell me they’d rather make dinner.” He snatches my hands out of the air like a lizard might snatch a fly and pulls them behind my back. His ropes slither around them too, pulling each wrist tight to the opposite elbow so my arms rested tight against my lower back with no movement.

“I’m not sure what to tell you, I went where I said I went. I didn't think you were the kind of man who wanted to control me down to the minute.” I bite, I’m getting feisty because I have done nothing wrong.

“The attitude you are giving me is unlike your usual nature. I don’t appreciate you meeting my concern with such dismissal.”

“Concern!? I went to the bloody grocery store!” I insist and that seems to rile him more. I’m thrown up and over his shoulder. “Severus, what is your problem!?” I screech as I’m carried to the living room.

“Guess.” He answers as he puts me down.

“I’m going to choose to remain silent.” I sniff haughtily.

“Guilty little pet.” He grumbles. He sits in his favourite chair and pulls me down over his lap ignoring my protests. “Did you know where you were going when you left this morning?”

“Sort of…” I answer truthfully.

“Not all of your trip was planned?”

“No, the ice cream shop was not planned as I said.” I snap. This earns me a slap across the rear before I’m expecting it. “I’m not lying!”

“You are answering me like a brat.”

“I am answering you honestly!” I bite then yelp because he got me again with a really stingy one.

“Incorrect.” He drawls and then we are silent. I chew on my words instead of speaking them. I’m trying to do something nice for him and I am being punished for it. “I shall answer your question because I am not unreasonable. I am angry because a certain someone was in a very dangerous part of Knockturn Alley alone today.”

Shit. I’m still not sure what he knows and I don't want to blow the surprise. What to tell him… I could try to deflect. Asking him if he was there seemed too guilty though.

“I’m waiting.”

“I think you are intent on punishing me so you might as well get on with it.”

Normally each blow to my behind would be accompanied by soothing caresses, apparently my attitude meant I was not afforded them. After a solid round of ten or more, I had lost count, he finally rested his palm against me, but still it did not rub the sting out. He pauses and is silent. My breathing is loud in my ears.

“This silence is the space designed for you to tell me the true story.”

“My silence is my answer.”

“Is it your intention to test my patience?”

“My intention is to get through this so I can start dinner.”

His ropes start multiplying. They begin to wrap my whole torso like a fly in a spider web. They encircle every inch of me all the way up my neck to my face. They don’t squeeze me, but they threaten. He stands and my body is lifted into the air before him. He’s taking me upstairs and I’m not sure why. “Tell me darling, why am I wrapping you up so tightly?”

“I’m not a legilimens.” I answer sarcastically and the ropes squeeze me as punishment as we move up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“Because you apparently need a reminder that you are mine. I shouldn’t have to wrap my magic around you and squeeze you with it for you to remember.” He says as I am deposited on the bed. “What does it mean for you to be mine, sweetheart?”

“That you insist on hitting me repeatedly on the backside when you don’t get your exact way?”

“This isn’t about me getting my exact way. This is about you disregarding your safety.” He is unfastening my trousers. “Since you so cleverly wormed your way into my heart… it is now your responsibility not to die, or to otherwise be kidnapped, cursed, hexed, jinxed or harmed in any way when you could have easily asked me for an escort.” As he lists the things he thinks could have happened to me in Knockturn alley he eases his hands inside my clothing more and more. He pushes the trousers down a little more with each word.

“A part of being mine is not offering up what is mine to various unsavoury characters by going shopping where there are dark corners and bad people looking for a sweet little thing that can be corrupted, coerced, or just plain tricked out of her gold.” The trousers slip off the ends of my feet and he steals my socks too. I’m wiggling on the cool of the duvet in my lacey panties and a turtleneck top he can’t steal unless he is willing to unleash my arms from their ropes.

“Severus, are you telling me that in addition to spanking me you are going to call me naive, easily tricked, and stupid?”

“I am not calling you those things. You are nothing except foolish.” He leaned over and grabbed my torso by the ropes, sliding me over to him. I am trying to avoid being spanked any more so put my feet on his chest and try to push away. “Stop being so difficult.” He grunts.

“Fine.” I bite and move my feet quickly off him so the way he is pulling on me results in me sliding across the bed and our hips meeting in the middle. I wrap my legs around him. “Is that better, sir?” I ask sarcastically.

“Tone, sweetheart.” He warns.

“Temper, dear.” I return.

Then he tries to move me back across his knees and I struggle. This must surprise him, as I never fight him. Usually my punishments are fake things, for transgressions imagined so that we might have some fun together. Normally I am spanked and I am petted in equal measure and it always leads to more sensual touch than pain. This pain for the sake of real punishment has me so feisty and riled that I try, even with my arms immobilised, to get out of his grasp, but he’s strong.

His hand comes down painfully against my almost bare behind and I still, sitting in the string of it. His fingers trace the lace edge of my knickers to where they disappear into the cleft of my bum and I wiggle at the ticklish sensation as it dances along with the painful one.

“Darling, now is the time to say what it is you were doing there. Otherwise I’ll be giving you nine more to complete this set.”

“One.” I belatedly count with gritted teeth in spiteful answer.

He is silent and gives me another.

“Two.” I grumble and I hear emotion in my voice. He rubs my behind for the first time since he began this punishment.

“Three.” My voice cracks, damn it. He is still. I listen to his breathing. He rubs me. I try to force myself to breathe slowly. “Four- Aaaahh I was getting you a birthday present!” I start to count but it hurts enough that I can’t take it anymore, not the pain as much as the implication that I somehow deserve it.

“From Knockturn alley?”

“I know you’ve been out of Doxy eggs and Jobberknoll feathers for three months and I heard the shop down there had gotten a rather large shipment of supplies so I went to inquire.”

“Oh, Darling… that’s a very thoughtful gift… yet it is still true that it’s too dangerous for you to go there alone to acquire such things for me. As thoughtful as you were being.” He responds.

“I feel like you are underestimating my ability to protect myself.” I whimper.

“Are you crying?” He asks.

“I’m just angry.” I answer, trying to control my breathing before I outright weep.

“Sweetheart…We’ve talked about this. You have to use the safeword if you’re feeling overwhelmed.” He sighs and his ropes release me.

I get off him and roll up in a ball on the bed facing away from him. “I wasn’t sure we were playing. You seemed very angry.”

“I was angry. I was completely confused as to why I saw you coming out of that alley and why you were so bloody intent on hiding the truth of it from me. Merlin sake, you could have made some horrible deal with someone down there and have been hiding it from me to save yourself from my ire when I might be the one who could help you.”

I peaked over my shoulder to respond. “You naturally assumed that if I was trying to evade your ire that I would respond best to being tied up and punished?”

Regret washes over his face. “I’m so sorry, pet.”

“You ruined your surprise.” I pout.

He crawls over me, pulling my chin out so he can kiss my lips. “I’m sorry, sweetness.” He kisses again. “How do I prove I’m sorry?” I try to move away from his lips but he is persistent. “Give me those pouting lips, precious.”

“You can’t kiss it better, mister meanie.”

He moves away and I hear him rummage in the bedside drawer. He is probably getting the lotion he made for taking away the sting of these spankings. Sure enough a few moments later I feel his hand come back to my half exposed behind and begin gently rubbing it into my flesh that has been tingling from his harder than usual smacks.

He takes his time, carefully getting everywhere, and even sliding his fingers under the lace and getting the upper part of my behind too. When he’s done his hand presses flat over me and rubs over me, his palm skims my sex on it’s way down to rub my thighs and I can’t help but make a little noise as he brushes me.

Never one to miss a small noise, his hand reverses course, tickling the backs of my thighs before those fingers come up and tentatively pet me through the lace. I surprise myself with my moan. I didn’t think I had been aroused by the spanking, it wasn’t like how it normally was and yet when he touched me all the nerves in my body screamed for more.

I was still curled up hiding my face from him in the blankets. He pressed his fingers against me and leaned over to try to see my reaction. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, darling, but your knickers are very wet…” he began. “Do you want me to touch you, or are you too sore at me for it?”

I gave a noncommittal grumble. I was angry. I was also very aroused, and didn’t want to admit it. I heard him breath out of his nose in amusement at my disgruntled mumbles. He trailed those fingertips up and down the part of me that was exposed to him in my defensive side curl.

I started panting into the duvet. When he pulled the lace to the side he paused before slowly touching me “My apology petting is making you so slick, sweetheart. Do you want more? I’m just going to… spread this around, oh dearest… you feel all swollen and ready… do you want daddy’s finger?” He pressed in barley centimetre and I whimpered.

“I see you are determined not to answer me, I will have to read the signs…” he murmurs before I moan into the bedspread as he sank that finger into me. I’m trying to remember my anger but I can’t as he slowly penetrates me over and over while petting my clit and making me clench around him. “I know I have been very bad, precious, but I was only thinking of your safety. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He tells me softly. “Please, dearest, show me your pretty face I can’t stand to have you hide it from me.” He begs softly while making me come undone. Why must he have this power over me?

Truthfully it’s getting awfully hot, panting into the duvet cover with my face hidden from him so I roll my torso over. He smiles at me as I emerge. “There’s my girl…”

“I’m … still.. mad.” I manage but with difficulty as I move towards orgasm.

“I’ll be your eager servant until you forgive me.”

“I need more…” I whine, I’ve been hovering at the edge of something for minutes now and I can’t quite grasp at it.

“My mouth?” He asks.

I shake my head no. I stretch my arms out to him. I want to feel his body weight on me, to be reassured in his wanting of me. I know he is trying to repent for making me angry but I also need to know he is no longer mad. I want to feel him hold me like his ropes had.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but he does withdraw from me in order to crawl above me, seeking a kiss.

“Squeeze please.” I demand with my outstretched arms.

“Before or during?” He smirks.

“Both.” I answer impatiently. He gives me a tight hug, letting his body weight go, he crushes me into the bed. The wool of his clothing is soft on my fingers but sratchy on my inner thighs. When I start grinding against him he pulls away for a moment and relieves me of my undergarments and unbuttons his trousers. “All off.” I instruct, knowing he will likely leave it all on, but my fingers want his flesh and I won’t let him stay buttoned up. It takes a couple of minutes but it’s worth it when he returns. He tries to take my turtleneck. “No. I’m keeping that. I’m always naked you’re always dressed. This time you shiver, I’ll stay cozy. In fact, fetch my socks.” I demand teasingly, and I bite my lip and grin to watch him naked with an erection find my socks with my discarded trousers and bring them back to my feet. He puts them on neatly. I hold open my arms again. “Squeeze.”

“I’m coming…” He rolls his eyes. He is not doing so well at being a devoted servant, he is already giving sass. He does follow orders through and while he squeezes me he kisses me and eventually he pulls away just a little to position himself so he can be inside me.

I sigh happily to be filled and squished at the same time. I wrap my legs around him so my warm sock covered feet cross behind his back. He rocks gently back and forth into me. “I love you, you grumpy man.” I breath into his ear. “Even though… mmm…. You ruin all your presents…”

“I have not ruined anything. While I adore the idea of your present, the only gift I truly cherish is you. So next time… ruin the surprise and ask me to come with you, my love. You’ll make me go grey prematurely worrying over you.” He pants.

“I have one last request for your penance...” I say somewhat shyly.

“Mmm?” He asks, nose buried in my neck, kissing me.

“Fuck me like you’re still mad.” I say it like a question in case he isn’t game for it.

“Oh with pleasure, darling.” He smiles before lifting his weight off me, then biting my neck till I squeal. He begins to slam his hips into mine “Who do you belong to?” He asks.

“You.” I whimper in character.

“That’s right, you were endangering something that belongs to me.” Fuck he’s all stern and it makes me go wild.

“I’m sorry.” I breathe, giving him big apology eyes just for my own enjoyment.

“Don’t make daddy worry or else he is going to treat you like a bad girl. Do you understand?” His dark eyes burrow into me. He’s playing mad daddy for me, but I know there is still truth in this for him.

“Yes sir.” I whimper between mews of pleasure.

“Do you feel you have sufficiently learned your lesson?” When his stern is mixed with being out of breath from the effort of fucking me hard it makes my toes curl.

“Yes.” I choke out.

“I think I will restore your status to good girl provided you remind yourself to whom you belong by begging me to let you come, and then saying my name while you do so.”

Beg him? Provided I have time before my climax comes rushing through my body while he lectures me. “Please Daddy. Please let me come, I promise to be good.”

“Good girl.” He grins, sliding his hand between us to pet me where he knows I won't be able to hold out. “Let me hear you.” He croons. I know I asked for this role play but I feel like he has taken the opportunity to teach me a lesson, to remind me how he makes my body feel. I do belong to him in this way.

“Severus!” I gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he slams into me repeatedly and the waves of pleasure build up then explode through me. He kisses my neck and switches to slow easy thrusts as I spasm around him, eventually slipping out of me but pulling me in close, listening to my shattered breathing.

“Did you not?” I look at him. I hadn't felt him climax with me.

“Doing penance.” He reminded me.

“For how long?” I asked with a laugh.

“Until… I don’t know until after dinner at the least.”

“Oh such a long time for you to abstain.” I roll my eyes.

“I believe you said dinner will take a while.”

“Maybe an hour… Two at most.”

“It will be a very long two hours, precious, as you do look so divine in an apron. If you wish to torture me you could get flour on your face, then I will be really put out about not being able to pull you onto the floor and make you mine.”

“Sir, you will find me willing and able to torture you this evening so don’t give me ideas. Maybe I’ll be wearing nothing but that apron and ample amounts of flour.”

uh oh

Craved.

Severus Snape x MinistryWorker! Reader

wordcount: 2,221

warnings: pure smut ahead. please be advised and read at your own risk. angst, teasing, and minor errors. (Severus is a little asshole.)

L/N- Last Name.

credit to the creator of this gif.

Happy Halloween my beautys! This is long overdue but I hope you all enjoy. 🎃

As a Ministry of Magic worker, It was always your job to make sure that Hogwarts was in good condition.

Whether it regarded the school, students and even staff. You were given the upper hand by the Minister himself since you held a high position.

And if we’re being honest. You loved it.

You love the fact change was in the power of your hand.

Your job was simple.

Evaluate every inch of the school, but mainly interrogate every Professor to see if they are still fit to teach.

Thankfully you’ve gone through the whole process of interviewing the Professors. And of course, all were fit to teach.

However, there was one particular Professor who always got underneath your skin.

Severus Snape was his name.

God, thinking about him gave you a headache.

He was nothing but a mean blunt asshole who showed no remorse to anyone.

You were determined to change that one way or another.

After all, if he didn’t comply his job would be on the line.

The yearly evaluation had come around, and once again you were sent to Hogwarts to do your typical routine.

Thankfully since it was Halloween, the evolution process occurred before the fall feast. Which gave you plenty of time.

You started from Headmaster, in which you adored and worked your way down.

It took you no less than two hours shuffling through each staff member.

And as expected, everyone was suitable.

As you roamed through the halls going though the list in your hand, you came across the last name.

Professor Snape.

You rolled your eyes with a loud huff escaping from you. This would be aggravating.

While you made your way down to the dungeons in which he hid, there wasn’t a single student in sight. As mentioned, it was Halloween so many were probably occupied in the Grand Hall.

Arriving directly in front of the classrooms door, you tucked the wooden clipboard underneath your arm, extending your fist to the door.

You hesitated only for a moment, you needed to prepare yourself.

God, if he said anything you’d fire him immediately and then kill him. It was a promise.

With another deep sigh escaped, you knocked on the door.

In return you were greeted with silence.

You immediately tried again.

Silence.

What on earth could he be doing?

This time, you banged your fist against the door as loud as you could.

He had no choice but to open the door.

You could heard someone shuffling on the other side to answer the door.

With the door swung open, Severus stood in the entranceway with an irked look fixed on his face while he stared at you.

You could tell that pissed. But you didn’t care.

He was fixed to say something, but you were only greeted with tensing silence.

“It took you long enough to answer the door,” You commented, making a small note in your notes.

“What if I was a student in desperate need of your help?” You questioned, with an advert tone.

You were picking with him.

Severus made another face as he bit the inside of his lip while grimacing at you.

“I am currently busy. What is it that you want?” He asked bluntly.

“Haven’t anyone told you? It’s evaluation day.” You spoke with a warm and fake smile.

You motioned your hand for Severus to move. He however hesitated, but only for a second.

Severus stepped away from the doorway holding his typical gaze while he watched you enter the classroom.

He wasn’t aware that you were supposed to be here.

If anything, he’s livid. He couldn’t stand you. Not one inch, Ministry worker or not you didn’t imitate him in the slightest.

With the classroom door shut, You began to wander around the room taking notes of everything you seen.

The class was in good condition. Nothing seemed out of sight, thankfully.

The sound of shoes clicking filled the room while you continued to observe.

Neither of you said anything to each-other. You decided it was best to skip over questioning the man.

If anything, it would just lead to an argument in which you weren’t in the mood for.

When you were finished with the classroom, your eyes just so happen to class to the small office that was hidden inside.

As you made your way to inspect the office, the door immediately slammed closed in front of you.

You turned to Severus with an aggravated look.

It was no one else but him.

“And why did you do that?”

Severus crossed his arms underneath his cloak.

“There is nothing for you to see.” He retorted.

You sighed all while shaking your head as you took note once again.

He had one more strike.

“You’re hanging on a thread, Mr. Snape. I advise that you comply. We’ve been through this before-“

“And I’ve told you before, time again. There is nothing inside of that office. All you need to see in the classroom, nothing more.”

You scoffed at his comment, setting your clipboard onto a desk.

“Must you be difficult? You do this every time I come.” You argued, throwing your hands in the air until they settled on your hips.

“I am not difficult. You however are.” He defended, soon moving from the classroom door to head to his office.

By this point, you were done with your evaluation, but you weren’t done with the conversation.

You were tired of the same attitude that was constantly thrown at you.

“Why are you such an ass?” You questioned the man who managed to stop in his tracks.

He immediately turned to you with a solid look on his face.

“Excuse me?” His still voice replied.

“I stutter darling. I’m sick of your attitude and the way that you treat me. Must I remind you, I can easily take your job with the snap of my finger?”

You snapped you fingers, now moving toward the man.

“So I advise that you get your shit together, and do so quickly.”

You were only a few feet away from him. Despite the height difference you still held your ground.

Severus held an unusual gaze while he looked at you.

“I haven’t the slightest care on how you feel, or what you may do.” He stated soon taking a step toward you.

“Take the job, find that no one else will be able to replace me. You would only be doing me the favor in the end.”

You felt your jaw locking at this point. He had to have the last say, did he?

“Fuck you,” You spat with an annoyed tone.

He merely smirked in return while leaning down inches away from you.

You could tell that he was enjoying this.

His face was so close, you could feel his cold breath.

“That is what you desire from me. And I simply refuse to give it to you..” He said in a form of a statement and tease.

His words shook your core. That’s all it was, Sexual tension.

You bit the inside of your cheek while you stared the man in front of you down.

“I really hate you..”

Severus remained in the same position with his eyes settled on you.

“The feeling is very much neutral..”

Silence quickly settled in.

He was staring at you, and you were simply trying to read the room.

It was obvious, the both of you wanted each-other. But at the same time, you couldn’t stand his very soul.

You looked past him at the closed office door, before your eyes landed back onto him.

“I want you to fuck me in your office, now.” You demanded.

Severus chuckled, as he leaned from you to fix his posture.

“And why would I do that?” He questioned, now tucking his arms underneath each other.

You took another step toward him, immediately resting your hand on his covered belt.

“Because I know you want it as much as me. You can’t deny it.”

Severus wasn’t phased by your words, or even your actions.

“Just admit it Severus,” You whispered with your hand slithering down to his crotch.

You were already turned on, way before you admitted your feelings.

“We both hate each other, so why not take the risk?” You asked again, with your hand squeezing his crotch and your body slightly pushed against his.

Although he didn’t say anything, his body was surly giving you his answer.

Severus was too overwhelmed by his lustful thoughts he didn’t comprehend anything that you said.

If this was an opportunity, he surly wouldn’t waste it.

He closed his eyes for a slight second taking in the pleasure that was rushing to his crotch.

You smirked at his sudden submission before you pressed your lips against his jaw.

“Open the door, and I’ll make it worth your while..” Your seducing words were clearly being heard.

By now, Severus had developed a bulge, and you were dying to see what was waiting for you.

Given into defeat, He pushed away from you heading directly into the office. You didn’t hesitate to follow him.

Once inside, you immediately pushed the man again his desk with your lips already locked.

You didn’t want to waste anymore time.

You wanted him.

You held onto the hot and steamy kiss while you did your best to undo his tight pants.

Severus quickly stopped and with a serious look on your face.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes damn it!” You rushed finally freeing his rock harden shaft from his pants.

He couldn’t argue against that.

Your hand immediately gripped the rather thick and twitching shaft as you began to stroke him off.

“I wasn’t expecting the Potions Master to have such a huge.. surprise waiting for me..” You bit the bottom of your lip as you watched the man fall into pleasure.

His hips were slowly thrusting toward you, with soft moans and grunts sounding from him.

“I wonder if you’d fit..” You grinned against his jaw soon picking up your pace.

“Fuck.” Severus rasped with both of his hands gripped around his desk.

The pleasure was sensational.

“H-Hurry up.. I may not l-last long..” He said in a form of a plea. He obviously wanted to fuck you before he came.

And you definitely wanted that.

You immediately stopped, now pushing Severus to lean against his desk with your waist sticking out.

You quickly pulled the him of your skirt up revealing the silky underwear and stockings that hid underneath.

It was best that he did the rest of the work.

Severus hovered behind you resting both of his hands on your hips.

He didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself.

He murmured a bit, pressing his harden shaft against your clothed underwear.

He was ready to devour you.

With your underwear quickly tucked to the side, he wasted no time to push himself inside of you.

A rather loud moan escaped from both of you. Not only did you feel amazing to him, Severus however was bigger than you expect.

In other words, he felt amazing.

The two of you disregarded the fact that protection wasn’t included.

But who’d care? It’s the Wizarding World for crying out loud.

Severus thrust started off slow, until he began to pick up his pace.

His hands squeezed your side while he proceeded to fuck a rhythm into you.

You on the other hand couldn’t believe that this was actually happening.

Severus Snape, A Hogwarts Professor, ex Death Eater was actually fucking you.

What a coincidence.

The sounds of your moans mixed with his low grunts filled the room.

“H-Harder… P-Please..” You begged, clinching onto the brim of the desk while he proceeded to rock your world.

Severus leaned down with his chest pressed against your back as he began to pick up his pace.

“Like this?” He asked with his lips pressed against your ear.

Your uphail of moans clearly answered for you.

The knots in your stomach were beginning to twist. You couldn’t last any longer.

Hell, you knew Severus was on the urge, you practically felt him twitching inside of you.

“G-God, I’m close..” You whined, squeezing one of your breasts.

“As am I..” He admitted as he continued to roll his hips against you.

“Then cum. Cum Professor.” You demanded feeling own orgasm corse through your body.

Severus pressed himself as deep as he could soon before he began to cum.

His grip around you tighten as he proceeded to cum.

His grunts were music to your ears.

Once he was finished, and sure you were filled with his seed he slowly began to pull out of you.

He immediately took a step back admiring the view on which you gave him, along side seeing his seed seeping down your thighs.

“We have to do this more often.” You teased, now gathering yourself together.

Severus was busy fixing his own clothes. You knew he’d agree.

Once you were finished, you turned to Severus with grin fixed on your lips.

“I look forward to our next Evaluation, Professor Snape.”

He held a wicked gaze while he looked at you.

“Likewise, Ms L/N..”

You left Hogwarts with your job complete and stomach filled with a Professors seed.

You definitely couldn’t wait for the next Evaluation.

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Thank you so much for your support.

snape isn’t a “daddy” (or snaddy) kinda guy. he’s a sir kinda guy.

“oh, sorry sir. i didn’t mean to interrupt your time alone, but i do have papers i need you to review.”

“apologizes, sir! i hadn’t seen you there.”

“your sarcasm speaks tones, sir.”

there is no reason for you to call him sir, your a professor at hogwarts as well and has been working with him for awhile.

but every time you do, he wants to do things. unimaginable things. things that coworkers, especially ones who are sorcerers, should not be thinking about.

touch, lick, suck, bite, plunge, he wants it all.

which is so unusual as severus has only bedded with another sexually once or twice.

he just… he just wants you.

——

*ask box open!*

do not repost on another site without my permission. bluberbies 2022

Out of Place, Out of Time (AU Oneshot)

Okay, so. I rarely (read: never) post original stuff on here, so this is a learning curve for me, pleasebenice, but I swore/promised/crossed my heart that I would contribute to @intricatecaprice 30 Days Dead Men’s Tales. And here we are! This’ll probably be messy and not nearly as pretty as the rest of those gorgeous posts, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?

So, I of course had the idea of Isabeau being plonked into the lap of one Cursed Capitán. I mean, who wouldn’t? But as it is currently being wonderfully done by so many talented authors, I decided to stick with my human Salazar. But this is just a small scratch of satisfaction to that itch. I hope you enjoy!  (Also, just wanna note that this isn’t the Monarch and these are different prisoners than those in the beginning of the film. I tried to make that distinct, but just want to clarify. Also, this is purely self-indulging, so please excuse any errors.)

Prisoners Should Know Their Place

It was the screams that told Isabeau her luck was about to change for the worst. And that was a feat, since she was pretty sure her luck had already hit rock bottom.

The guy in the cell next to her, barely a few years older than her, if even that, began to whimper in terror, his fingers tugging at dirty red hair. The wrinkled old man with him started muttering prayers under his breath, the gaps of missing teeth flashing every now and then.

Pretty sure that’s not gonna help anyone, dude. Isabeau sighed, then grimaced when her ribs protested the movement. The nasty bruise from the officer’s boot would take a while to heal, especially since he hadn’t bothered holding back when he’d literally kicked her into the cell.

Asshole. I hope he was one of the ones that screamed like a little girl.

Despite the tone of her thoughts, Isabeau was worried. Whoever had boarded the Victorious were going through the crew with lightning speed, and nothing outside gave away any hints of who the attackers were. For all she knew, they’d be worse than the British she found herself prisoner of.

Great. This day really can get worse. I honestly didn’t think it could.

There was a couple of loud crashes up above, and a distinct sound of crackling that sent tendrils of alarm snaking down her limbs. 

Fire. I smell fire. 

Cinders began to float down through the cracks in the boards and she struggled to keep the primal part of her brain from sending her into a panic. 

The younger guy apparently had less control and suddenly threw himself at the bars with a loud crash, screaming at the top of his lungs. The old man tried to calm him, to keep him quiet, but he was thrown off.

Mere seconds later, slow footsteps began to thump heavily down the stairs to the brig. 

The screaming man instantly quieted, staring up at the deck above in horror.

Isabeau looked up from where she sat curled in the corner, surprised by the prickle of unease that skittered with spider legs across her nape.

Whatever was coming their way wasn’t anything good.

All three of them froze as boots suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly descending to show a large man leaning heavily on a cane as he made his way down the steps.

It wasn’t his sheer, intimidating size that made Isabeau’s breath freeze in her lungs. 

It was the way his hair wafted around his head in a halo of black strands, like he was underwater. 

It was how flakes of ash floated in his wake whenever he moved.

It was his burnt and decrepit uniform, shifting and following his movements in a way that wasn’t natural.

It was the grey skin, covered in ashen cracks and the splintered skull with sharp, jagged edges of bone.

It was the burning amber eyes, almost glowing with their brilliance in the dark.

They all stood staring at each other for a brief second, then the man was joined by more men, men that had similar appearances of unnaturalness.

Isabeau was grateful she was already sitting down, else she would have collapsed on the floor.

They had walked through the walls. They had simply walked the walls, as if it’d been empty space.

What…the fuck…

The old man next to her began to moan his prayers, a note of bleakness in his tone that said he knew he was about to die. 

Isabeau wasn’t feeling much more optimistic, but she had bigger things to worry about. Such as why the apparent leader of the ghostly horde was now staring directly at her, and he hadn’t blinked since he’d spotted her.

In her short experience in an 18th century world, she’d come to the quick realization that women were simple commodities to be acquired, to be seen and not heard. To actually have intelligence as a woman was considered unnatural, a short step from being pronounced a witch or insane.

So the fact that any man, not merely a ghostly one, was staring at her with such unnerving focus was not a good thing.

She bit her lip, blood seeping on her tongue in an effort not to snap at the man to ask what he was looking at.

The older man’s moaning grew louder, the other man trying to figure out if he was going to fight while there was a distinct stain on the front of his pants, his blue eyes wide with terror.

Apparently, the imposing figure staring at her had had enough. A slight jerk of his head towards the other two prisoners and one of the ghostly apparitions behind him stepped forward, through the cell bars, and thrust a corroded sword straight through the moaning inmate.

Silence instantly echoed through the brig following the thud of his body.

And still the man continued to stare at her, making her skin itch under his perusal, making her want to curl into herself to hide from his burning gaze.

Finally, he stepped forwards, and no, she hadn’t been imagining things.

His entire body passed through the iron bars, sliding through them only a faint resistance and leaving them sizzling and smoking in his wake.

Definitely not human, definitely not human!

Isabeau pressed backwards into the corner, curling tighter as the man or whatever he was continued to move towards her with slow, steady steps. She kept her eyes lowered, so as not to seem as a challenge, and was surprised to find him crouching in front of her.

She squeezed further into the corner, bracing herself for another boot, or possibly a hand, when she heard a deep voice rumble, “Look at me.”

It should have sounded like rocks grinding together, as deep as his baritone was, but instead it sounded like liquid honey, like the purr of a lover, his accent making it roll through the air like music. She could hear a gravelly rasp to it that only added a smoky flavor, making her skin shiver and tingle in the wake of the sound.

Carefully, she slid her eyes up, taking in the once elegant uniform that still flattered his powerful body with its faded stripes, the tattered cravat that floated and swayed in a nonexistent breeze, until her gaze landed on a face that would haunt her dreams.

She sucked in a quick breath, surprised by how utterly handsome the ghostly man was, even in death. Her eyes skimmed over strong, mature features of a male in his prime, who would have been beyond devastating had he been alive.

Nor had he missed her interest, something flaring visibly in those burning amber eyes that made her swallow convulsively.

The man straightened, towering over her, and turned to gesture at another of the men that accompanied him, one with an eyepatch over one side of his face.

Unfortunately, the other inmate still alive had apparently found his courage, if not his brains.

He slammed his hands into the bars, one of his fingers crooked as if he’d broken it, and sneered at the man standing in front of her, “What use do you have of some whore, Spanish dog? You can’t-”

He never got to finish before the man whirled and his hand flashed out, instantly wrapping around the inmate’s throat. He was lifted off his feet in a frightening display of strength, while the man in the striped coat hissed, “She’s mine, and you would do well to remember that.”

Isabeau honestly thought he was going to kill him, but instead he only held him for a few seconds more, just long enough to make sure his point got across, then dropped him, leaving the man in a crumpled heap on the filthy floor.

Wait. What does he mean, “she’s mine”? 

“Moss, bring him.” The man before her whirled around with blazing speed, reaching down to grab her arm and hauled her to her feet.

Isabeau gasped at the feel of his icy fingers on her arm, as unbreakable as any manacle, before she was dragged after him.

One of his men broke the cell lock and he continued to yank her along, making her ribs scream in protest.

“…wait,” she gasped as he headed towards the stairs. “Wait!”

She threw herself backwards, no mean feat when her weight was being continuously dragged forwards, and the man holding her whipped around to glare at her, his eyes a burning crimson.

“I will not wait, chica. You are my prisoner now, and I do not wait for prisoners!”

Prisoner. That hated word burned in her gut. She’d heard it more over the past few days than she ever cared to again, along with a good many more slurs against her simply for her gender.

Fury made her hiss up at his face, “I’m not your fucking prisoner, now let - go of me!”

With a burst of frantic strength, she managed to wrench free of his grip, which had slackened a hair in his surprise at her outburst.

She turned and bared her teeth in a snarl at the one-eyed ghost that stepped in front of her. His eye flickered over her shoulder and he moved out of her way, staring at her with such hostility that her anger faltered.

Two others paused in the act of dragging the unconscious man out of his cell, his dirty red hair hanging lank about his face.

Isabeau shuddered, glad she hadn’t been put in the cell with him, and limped towards the room where her bags had been carelessly tossed. Sighing at the sight of her clothes thrown haphazardly on the bench, she closed her eyes wearily, just wishing this day had never begun.

She heard wheezing breaths behind her and knew that the man had followed her. The one who had claimed her as his prisoner. The one who stared at her with uncomfortable intensity.

Squeezing her eyes harder before opening them, she stepped forwards and began picking up her things, the smell of smoke gradually growing stronger.

“You are not English. What are you doing in an English cell?” the man asked suspiciously, stepping around to peer curiously at her belongings before swinging his gaze back to her.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she muttered, then finally couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her shirt over her head, not caring if she was being watched or not.

She heard a wheezed curse and felt her face burn in embarrassment, then quickly  grabbed another of her shirts and slipped it on.

Grabbing the rest of her things and tossing the strap on her big bag over her shoulder, she turned to see the man had given her his back out of some form of courtesy.

Claiming her as his prisoner or not, she appreciated the gesture.

“I don’t even know your name.”

He turned to face her, his stance proud even with his slightly hunched back. “Capitán Armando Antón Salazar de Estrada. And yours, chica?”

A spark drifted down from the ceiling and she sidestepped it warily, suddenly realizing just where they were. And what was happening to the Victorious. “Isabeau Revanne. Okay, fine, I’m your prisoner, take me to your brig.”

She’d been trying to expedite matters to get off the burning hulk, but apparently the only thing she’d managed to expedite was Capitán Salazar’s temper.

He stepped forwards, towering over her even without a straightened spine, and glared down at her. “Sí, you are my prisoner, and prisoners should know their place.”

Isabeau swallowed as she struggled not to stare at his face. “My place is in your brig, isn’t it?”

Salazar stared at her for a good long minute, making her grow more and more nervous as heat began to filter down to the room, before he suddenly smiled.

It was a smile that made her extremely uneasy.

“Perhaps I have another purpose for you. Your companion in the brig had a good idea, no?”

Her companion? Wait, the one who had called her a-

“I’m not a whore!” Isabeau spat indignantly, gritting her teeth in outrage at the suggestion. She’d been called worse since she’d been tossed into that cell, but honestly, she’d somehow been under the impression that Capitán Salazar was different.

His burning gaze flickered over her, taking in her clothes that must seem incredibly strange to him. “That remains to be seen.”

Both their attentions jerked upwards at a loud crash, but Salazar was quicker to recover.

Isabeau yelped as she was suddenly lifted into the air, wheezing as a broad shoulder was wedged into her stomach.

Salazar turned and snapped an order, one of his men slinking forwards to pick up her belongings.

Clinging to the back of his coat, Isabeau struggled to breathe as she was carried along. 

Salazar paused at the top of the stairs before moving over to the railing.

What is he-

Her thought vanished as he leapt over the railing, the sudden shock of it sucking the scream right out of her throat as she saw pitch-black water rushing towards her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, only to feel herself suddenly jolt to a stop.

Confused, she cracked open one eye, then both went wide in shock as she still saw water beneath her, yet it wasn’t getting any closer.

Salazar was walking on water. He was walking on water.

An explosion of fire and noise drew her attention away from this new knowledge and she hissed in pain when one chunk of burning debris grazed her arm.

Salazar instantly jerked to the side, swinging her out of the way of another piece of debris before breaking into a run.

Another explosion and she looked up to see a cannon sailing straight towards them. “Look out!”

The massive metal construct whistled by them as Salazar swerved at her warning, his pace increasing to a lithe run as he put distance between them and the exploding wreck of the Victorious.

Finally, he began to slow down to a rolling jog, then coiled his big body into a crouch before springing upwards.

They landed lightly on the deck of a rotting hulk of a ship, a vessel twice the size of the one she’d been on, if not bigger, but all she caught was a quick glimpse, catching sight of the red-haired man sprawled on the deck where he’d been dropped before Salazar turned and carried her down a corridor, 

Indignation began to fuel a burning strength. She’d spent the last several days locked in a cell, she’d woken up in this hell hole of a time period with no warning, she had no idea how to get back, and for the icing on the fucking cake, she had been kidnapped by a stupidly handsome ghost whose intentions she didn’t have the slightest clue about.

And she was tired of feeling his shoulder digging into her stomach!

“Put. Me. Down!” Isabeau thrashed and threw herself back against his restraining arm, ignoring the screaming in her ribs at the sudden movement.

Salazar grunted at her unexpected struggling, then shoved his way through a door, slamming it closed behind him.

Isabeau found herself flung into the air with a squeal and she flailed wildly before landing on something plush and slightly lumpy. She laid there for a second, sucking air into her lungs as her bruised stomach ached, then carefully sat upright, staring at the ghostly captain warily.

But to her confusion, he wasn’t looking at her face. Instead, his gaze was somewhere lower, and she glanced down in alarm, only to see that her shirt had ridden up when she’d been tossed onto the settee. And the bootprint bruised into her ribs was clearly visible.

“Which one?”

Isabeau’s attention flashed back to Salazar, his deep voice ominously quiet, rage turning his irises a bloody crimson. Black blood ran down his chin as he bared his teeth in a snarl. “Which one?!”

Slowly, she inched her shirt down to cover the bruises. “One of the officers. I’m pretty sure he’s dead now.”

Sanguine eyes flicked to her face. “Did he touch you - anywhere else?”

She quickly shook her head, even as she wondered why the mere thought of it enraged him. Surely such a thing was commonplace in this time period.

Salazar made a noise in his throat, almost a growl, his face still stern and unyielding in his anger. His fist tightened around the hilt of his rapier, which she just now noticed was still gripped in his hand. 

Isabeau edged backwards along the settee warily, then yelped in alarm when he lifted it up and plunged the tip into the floor with a loud thud, the blade quivering from the force of the blow.

They were both frozen for a second, then Salazar straightened and sent her a harsh glare. “Do not move.”

And with the ominous implications of what would happen if she didn’t obey his orders hanging in the air, he whirled and walked through the door without opening it, leaving wisps of ash trailing behind him.

Isabeau didn’t feel like moving from her spot on the settee. She had seen how deep the blade had plunged into the floorboards and felt it was wise not to incite the captain’s temper. Though that didn’t stop her curiosity from lifting its head and creating questions about the man.

She didn’t realize that she’d dozed off until she felt weight depress the cushions next to her.

Something cool was spreading soothing bliss over the aching bruise on her side, making the pain fade to a background hum.

She cracked open bleary eyes to see a man sitting next to her, huge and imposing, yet his touch was gentle as he feathered calloused fingers over her skin.

“Thank you.”

Salazar paused at her words, then resumed rubbing whatever it was into her bruise. “You are welcome.”

Isabeau was quiet for a second, watching him groggily before blurting, “Why are you helping me?”

This time he didn’t pause, merely pulled away for a second to wipe his fingers off on a rag. “You are my prisoner, therefore my responsibility.”

She couldn’t help but be fascinated by his smooth, efficient movements, the complete unnaturalness to him. He shouldn’t exist, but here he was. Still, questions continued to bounce around in her mind.

“Why did you bring that other man too?”

He chuckled ominously as he suddenly leaned over her, those eerie eyes fixed on her face. “Because I always leave one man alive to tell of me. And since I’m not letting you go, I needed someone else.”

She swallowed nervously as she felt his fingers stroke her hair back behind her ear, felt his weight depress the cushions around her. “What do you mean, you’re not letting me go?”

His hand slid under the back of her skull, huge and powerful against the bone, and he held her still as he leaned closer. His hair flowed downwards to tickle her cheeks when he stopped, his nose almost touching hers. A black grin spread across his lips. “You’re mine, now. And I don’t let go of what is mine.”

Yo! I wanna say that I really enjoyed your valveplug writing! You write smut exceptionally well! It flows nicely and it really gets me in the mood, you know? I enjoy it! Keep on writing, if you'd like! You just received a new supporter!

bro don’t make me cry. thank you so much <3 maybe I’ll do some requests in the future when I have the time ;)