 | ShatterStorm Productions
|
| ShatterStorm Productions
|
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything Harry Potter-related. I’m just borrowing from the toybox for a little entertainment. I promise I’ll put them back mostly unharmed.
Author’s Note: cruisedirector and I were discussing the whole idea of what Snape would do after Lupin’s dismissal in my earlier story, “Incriminating Evidence.” It was decided that Snape must have run back to his rooms and wanked like a muthafucka. And then I just had to write it, so here it is… It’s been a while since I’ve written present tense. I hope it doesn’t suck too badly…
“Taking Matters in Hand”
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
I have never felt such overwhelming shame, anger, and arousal in my life as I did when that cursed werewolf dismissed me like an errant child. Dismissed me! Severus Snape. Who does that lowly, despicable, benighted fool think he is to treat me like this?
Storming back to my dungeons, I scare off more students than I have in a long time. Perhaps I should remember this, use it to frighten them in the future. Longbottom will be pissing himself for weeks! That thought gives me a small measure of satisfaction.
Once in the sanctity of my rooms, I imperiously slam the door, stripping off my robes. The cool air caresses my heated skin with a shiver, and I’m instantly reminded of why I’ve retreated here so quickly. The throbbing heat has returned to my groin and I can’t hold back the moan, the oh-so-needy moan.
Leaning back against the wall for support, I shiver again, the memory of being trapped by Lupin springing to the fore. The heat of his body combating the cold stone wall. The feather of his breath across my cheek. The searing fire of his hand stroking, teasing my cock. The husky, almost possessive purr of his voice. I’d been so close, so close…
And I’d stopped him.
Merlin’s bollocks! What the hell had I been thinking? I’d practically begged him to continue, wanted to feel his fingers wrapped around my cock. Better yet, his lips. Shut up that sensual, traitorous mouth by shoving my cock down his throat…
My fingers fumble with my trousers, roughly shoving the offensively constricting material down my hips to pool at my feet. My own cool fingers wrap around my cock, stroking slowly, sensuously, just like he’d done. Another moan escapes my lips, hips arching into my tight fist.
The scent memory of him surrounds me, and I feel like the lovestruck teenager again, running to hide away after seeing the object of my lust. Frantically fumbling to release the built-up tension and need coiled in the pit of my stomach. Mortified I might be caught. Wishing he’d be the one to catch me.
“Please,” I whisper furtively, eyes screwed tightly shut.
In my mind’s eye, he’s standing so close, body heat searing my flesh. He’s murmuring hot words of possession, of need, of dominance. His fingers dance possessively across my skin, lips and tongue blazing a trail of fire until I think I might explode. Long, sensual fingers stroke roughly along my cock, driving me insane.
Only dimly aware of my physical surroundings, I focus on my need and my fantasy. My swiftly pumping fist becomes his, drawing me closer and closer to nirvana. My arse is chafing from the repeated slamming against the rough brick wall as my hips thrust. I want to be fucking his face, not my fist. Want to feel those teeth scrape my sensitized cock. Want to feel those lips stretched obscenely tight, taking my cock like a wanton whore, like a supplicant. I want him to swallow my release, take me into him, make me part of him.
Possess me.
Own me.
Just that thought. Bending me to his will, his sensuality. Backed against the wall, unable to move, completely at his mercy.
My breath hitches in my throat and I feel my body stiffen, spasming with each pulse of my release. The cry tearing from my lips sounds suspiciously like his name.
And then it’s over. Disgusted with myself, I search for my wand and cast a quick Scourgify, removing all physical traces of my weakness. Ashamed by that same weakness, I consider utilizing a Pensieve.
“No,” I murmur huskily, sliding down to the floor, a sort of lassitude settling into my bones. This weakness will stay…for now.
Until I learn self-control around Remus Lupin again.
