i want whatever the fuck they had going on
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i want whatever the fuck they had going on

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Title: Obliged
âËà§ PAIRING: Colonel Brandon x f!reader || Sense and Sensibility âËà§ CATEGORIES: drabble/headcanons | READER 18+ âËà§ WARNING: none âËà§ HINT: Just writing Brandon~ âËà§ WORD COUNT: 1.1k
NSFW ALPHABET - BRANDON
I love how Sense and Sensibility has a melodramatic Gothic hero who traveled the world as a soldier and had an angsty backstory and even during the events of the novel participated in a duel. But all of it's off-page so every time he appears he's just Some Guy. Kind of serious, doesn't talk much, pretty boring. His biggest passion is flannel waistcoats
I have an observation. Alan Rickman's age in S&S is a really big, significant problem, but an equally big problem is that his portrayal is too stoic. I think the filmmakers were trying to make him a tough guy and didn't understand that vulnerability is what makes people feel for you. If your fear of showing weakness gets in the way, then you may think you're protecting yourself, but it makes it hard for anyone to empathize with you.
I can buy that. Colonel Brandon is very emotional, he just leaves the room whenever he has to experience A Feeling. He has to pause when telling Elinor about Eliza's history because he's so overcome:
He could say no more, and rising hastily walked for a few minutes about the room. Elinor, affected by his relation, and still more by his distress, could not speak. He saw her concern, and coming to her, took her hand, pressed it, and kissed it with grateful respect. A few minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure.
and again: Again he stopped to recover himself; and Elinor spoke her feelings in an exclamation of tender concern, at the fate of his unfortunate friend.
I am not an expert on Sense & Sensibility adaptations, but I know there is at least one that has Colonel Brandon being very emotional during the Eliza history scene and I think that is very key to his character.
I hope you don't mind, but I got a little long-winded when writing my own thoughts on this subject and would love to share. :p
For me, personally, Alan Rickmanâs age has never bothered me in the 1995 Sense & Sensibility adaptation â especially when you look at how Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant were also older than their characters in the novel. When you have such a top tier collection of actors and actresses, I find it easy to be forgiving about those sorts of things â especially when their performances, at least in my opinion, are unmatched by any other adaptation.
But the thing I wanted to comment on is that Colonel Brandonâs entire character is defined throughout the novel by his restrained emotion â not a lack of emotion, again, but restrained emotion. When he was first introduced, Jane Austen described him as âsilent and graveâ, and that description of âgraveâ continued to be her word of choice for him as the novel progressed. You can easily swap grave with stoic. Marianne â though, of course, in her very Marianne way â believed him beyond âall acuteness of feeling and every exquisite power of enjoymentâ for his simply listening quietly and respectfully to her playing the pianoforte. Elinor, when first noticing Brandonâs deepening attachment for her sister, gave us this following insight:
âShe saw it with concern; for what could a silent man of five and thirty hope, when opposed to a very lively one of five and twenty? and as she could not even wish him successful, she heartily wished him indifferent. She liked himâin spite of his gravity and reserve, she beheld in him an object of interest. His manners, though serious, were mild; and his reserve appeared rather the result of some oppression of spirits than of any natural gloominess of temper. Sir John had dropped hints of past injuries and disappointments, which justified her belief of his being an unfortunate man, and she regarded him with respect and compassion.â
Silent. Grave. Reserved. Serious but mild. That really sums up Brandonâs manner. Even in the scene where Brandon is expounding on his past and Willoughbyâs misdeeds, he describes his own character as having âpresently forlorn and cheerless gravityâ to the point where he understood if Elinor may have thought it impossible for him to have nurtured such an intense love in his past.
And thatâs where we come to the crux of Brandonâs character. He was reckless and unrestrained in his attachment to Eliza â their choice to elope was no small thing â and in that love he clearly showed a depth of romanticism to match even Marianneâs unrestrained sensibilities. He still has that deep romanticism, which is what presents him as such a perfect narrative foil and eventual match in love for Marianne.
In the novel, Austen gave us hints as to what the Brandon home life was like for both our Brandon and Eliza. The estate was much encumbered due to mismanagement. Though Austen doesnât say much about Mr. Brandon Sr., we can infer much from that alone â to say nothing of how he married his ward to his eldest son âagainst her inclinationâ for her fortune. Brandon says that âis all that can be said for the conduct of one who was at once her uncle and guardian.â
If we can infer that the elder Mr. Brandon was, at the very least, a cold and calculating man, Austen is far more explicit in her condemnation of the younger Mr. Brandon. Our Brandon says that his brother âhad no regard for her [Eliza]; his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her unkindly.â He goes on to describe their marriage as a misery. That statement, his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, is one that has always haunted me. What was it like, growing up at Delaford, with such a father and master and his son and heir? Maybe that was one of the reasons Brandon and Eliza saw fit to elope in the first place. I think that it's possible to reason that Brandon may have learned reserve from an early age, if only for his own safety in such an environment - he certainly learned it upon losing Eliza and joining his regiment, if only from the weight of dashed expectations and ruined dreams.
I have my own head!canons about Brandon's time in India and beyond, which don't have any place in a literary analysis, but I will say that that we can perhaps all agree that one didnât simply achieve the rank of colonel before the age of thirty lightly. On top of Brandon carrying his heartache with him, there were his experiences in war, where he earned a position as a leader of men. That alone implies some level of gravitas of temperament â let alone the further tragedy he faced upon coming home and discovering his Elizaâs fate and being present for her death. Then, there was the fate of Elizaâs daughter. I think that itâs easy to forget that, throughout the Dashwoodsâ early time at Barton, Brandon had no idea of what had become of Eliza and was still actively searching for his ward. She had been missing since that previous October, which had to have weighed on him as a guardian as he castigated himself over his failures towards both mother and daughter. By that point, Brandon must have assumed the very worst. Of course he would be subdued in this context â even more so than was his normal disposition.
But, no matter the personal tragedies he suffered in life, Brandon never lost his propensity for kindness and generosity. He never inflicted upon others the cruelty he endured in his own turn. In his five years as master of Delaford, he'd already turned around the prospects of the estate, according to Mrs. Jennings â which would have included caring for the tenants who had been sorely pressed under the management of his brother and father. As a bachelor soldier with no fixed residence â he had no claim to Delaford at the time, let's remember â he assumed custodianship of Eliza, a girl who could have been his own daughter in another life, all out of love and a sense of duty to her mother. He then went on to act as a guardian to the best of his ability. He showed friendship to the Dashwoods without expecting anything in return, and he went out of his way to prove that friendship through multiple tangible acts of service. He extended kindness to Edward â a stranger â based solely on his knowledge of his character from the Dashwoods and out of a sincere desire to aid what he thought was a love story, understanding the impossibility of Edwardâs position from his own thwarted romance in his youth. He constantly showed his heart in word and deed, even if he may have been solemn in disposition. (Which foiled Willoughby's superficial and ultimately selfish character, I don't even have to say - Austen knew exactly what she was doing in her writing of these two men.)
The only time I can really recall Brandon's composure breaking in the novel â even in his confession to Elinor, he held himself firmly in line, taking the time to pause and gather himself often â is when Marianne fell ill and was in mortal peril. When he fetched Mrs. Dashwood from Barton, he betrayed some deep emotion of feeling â though that emotion may have been embellished, Elinor suspects, "by the fancy of her mother".
Trials and tragedy have taught Brandon to be reserved and guarded, but again, he showed himself kind through his actions. He has an enormous heart and a true depth of fellow feeling. Itâs the world around him that has forced him into a mold that he may not have naturally fit in different circumstances. We all know that Jane Austen was satirizing the Romantic movement with Sense & Sensibility, and I think that she did that wonderfully with Brandonâs character. He is her answer to the Byronic hero â a haunted character with a tragic past, who, instead of turning to bitterness and despair, chooses kindness and generosity and empathy. If Marianne had to learn to temper her sensibilities with sensibility, then Brandon, over the course of the novel, was able to let more of his sensibilities free and let his heart breathe again. (And I could write an entire essay about how his character arc mirrors Edwardâs in that regard, I just love Austen's thematic parallels in S&S so much.) By the end of the novel, equilibrium is achieved, both for Brandon and Marianne, and thatâs what makes them work as partners for each other, in every sense of the word. I mean, just look at Austen slay when she writes:
âShe was born to overcome an affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily to give her hand to another!âand that other, a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two years before, she had considered too old to be married,âand who still sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat!
But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting,âinstead of remaining even for ever with her mother, and finding her only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm and sober judgment she had determined on,âshe found herself at nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties, placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the patroness of a village.
Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, believed he deserved to be;âin Marianne he was consoled for every past affliction;âher regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves; and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby.â
I COULD EAT THESE THREE PARAGRAPHS WITH A SPOON
But, to the specific criticisms of Rickmanâs performance, I would point out that it is only here, in the epilogue, so to speak, that Austen writes Brandon with cheerfulness and animation. I personally think that Rickmanâs performance was spot-on in its reserve. Rickman had that aura of grief and tragedy about him, but he still allowed Brandonâs kindness and vulnerability to show through in multiple settings. In his very first scene, heâs playful when he answers Margaretâs questions about India. Then, thereâs the scene where heâs petting the dogs as he walks up to the cottage â and then he salutes Margaret, once again showing her affection and respect. Heâs smiling and even teasing when he gifts Marianne flowers â just as he was when they were bowling together at Barton House. The nervous gestures he showed â like tapping the back of the arm chair â during his confession to Elinor said so much with so little. Then, I donât even have to get into his entirely A+ depiction of the depths of Brandonâs grief and fear and utter devotion when Marianne fell ill at Cleveland. He was beyond openly vulnerable in those scenes; he was wearing his heart bleeding on his sleeve. I personally wouldnât describe Rickmanâs portrayal of Brandon as âtoughâ in any way. I thought that he 100% understood the assignment, and delivered what is, in my opinion, a Colonel Brandon that's exactly as Austen intended him to be.
I just . . . Brandon is one of my favorite Austen heroes and I can talk about him all day. I donât know if this helped at all - or if my bias is simply showing, in all honesty. But once I got started rambling, I couldnât stop. ;)
(And here! Gif proof of the scenes I mentioned, all lovingly gleaned from @smilingformoney )
It's subtle, perhaps - but there is Colonel Brandon, just as Austen described: serious but mild, with a kind heart and a gentle manner, despite all the grief and tragedy life has thrown at him otherwise.

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âExplain yourselfâ followed by âstop making excusesâ has always baffled me because the fuck you think explaining myself is????
Iâm not Christian, I donât go to church anymore, and my pastor died, but when he was alive Iâd sometimes go to his sermons and I remember one time he said âit feels good to hate, but we know that it isnât allowed, so when weâre told that weâre allowed to hate someone we get so excited that we forget weâre supposed to loveâ, and if my humble atheist ass might borrow some church talk Iâd like to perhaps submit that
Anyhow sometimes on the day to day I feel disgust or revulsion and I have to ask myself âis this a danger to anyone at all or am I just looking for something Iâm allowed to hateâ and a solid 98/100 times itâs the latter so once again thank you pastor D
Severus Taking You Back to Common Room - Blurb
"Severus," you whispered. The music was loud, you wanted to go home.
Severus replied immediately, being the introvert he is, he did not want to be at this party.
"Yes, darling," his voice a bit nervous and raised due to the blaring music.
"I want to go, now, my feet hurt." You half-whined half-complained as you bounced on your heels.
Severus didn't say anything because you were already stressed before the ball about your tall heels.
It was the Yule Ball, which had been going on for hours by this point. You loves parties like this, loved being with friends and making memories.
Severus on the other hand, if he hadn't been invited by you, would be enjoying quiet reading in the Slytherins common room.
He held your hand as you walked out of the ball room, passing by a few students making out and... doing much more than just making out.
"My feet hurt so bad," you whined again. Severus's eyes were concerned, he was an extreme lap dog. Would literally do anything you asked and try to offer every solution there was for your pain.
"Do you want to take them off, I can carry you?" He offered.
Your eyes softened and your lips slightly pouted, "Yes please, take them off for me."
You leaned against the castle wall, the portraits looking curiously and talking amongst themselves as Severus took off your shoes.
"Do you want me to carry you?" Severus asking, you hesitated. Though you saw the floors often getting mopped, they looked quite old and... not the cleanest.
"Yes please," you nodded, Severus carried you bridal style and ascended down the stairs.
"Why didn't you put charms on your heels?" Severus asked
You blinked, "I've never thought of that." Your parents often brought you to muggle shoe stores. When you were six and had a muggle friend, you loved her Cinderella themed heels, though knowing nothing about the movie.
"Do you want me to charm them for you?" he asked. You shook your head, he was always so concerned, sometimes it freaked you out having someone so nice and attentive.
"I'll do it some other time, I usually buy shoes at muggle shops." You rested your head against his shoulder."
He set you on the common room couch, "Well maybe you should check out normal shoe shops then."
You chuckled and nodded, "Want to come with me?"
He blushed, "I have no fashion in women's shoes."
You giggled, feeling tired now, and the high of the party coming down. "Cissy is probably still there, drinking somehow." You sighed, Cissy always followed Lucius around, he wasn't even that great.
Severus nodded, "Probably, do you want some tea or food in general?"
You shook your head, "No, I just want to sleep."
Hello! Two questions. 1) It's true there isn't bad critics or scandals about Alan Rickman? Reading information and news about him, I pleasantly surprised by the fact that everybody loves him. Maybe because he's a very good, gentle and wonderful person. 2) I love music. Soundtracks of Alan's films are beautiful. So I am curious to know: what's Alan's relationship with music? Which genres or artists did he prefer? Thank you and sorry for mistakes (English isn't my mother-tounge). DMK
Hi. Iâm sorry if Iâm getting back to you late. These are some good questions:
1) As far as I know, Alan did an excellent job of staying out of the limelight and he really did seem like he was a genuine, sweet person who didnât need or want all of that attention enough to be ââscandalous.ââ That being said, there were some critics of his play, My Name Is Rachel Corrie from political perspectives, even though I personally donât think the play is politically driven at all. You can read more about the controversies in these articles. Regardless of whether or not anyone agrees with Rachelâs activism, she didnât deserve to die in the way she did and Alan merely took her writings and represented the story as just a human narrative about an everyday young woman who fought hard for what she believed in and was killed in an unjust way; the play took no political sides on the Palestinian and Israeli conflict, in my opinion, but other than that, I have barely heard one bad word about him in the press. Unless one considers tabloid Daily Fail writer Maureen Patonâs Alan Rickman: The Unauthorised Biography, which not only takes a lot of quotes from both Rickman and colleagues out of context, spreads false ââfactsââ about Rickman (i.e. having a non-existent speech impediment), writes some condescending things about his immediate family just because they arenât actors, and twists truths in a Rita Skeeter fashion, but goes out of its way to paint Rickman as a stage brat, which everyone is aware he wasnât. In short, stay away from it. Alan had, time and time again, expressed his loathing for it in countless interviews. You read it, you can see why.
2) Alan did a short, list-type interview for the promotion of CBGB where he cited some of his favourite songs and artists. Trouble is, I canât find it now! [If anyone has a link to it, donât hesitate to message me! Edit: Thank you to @smileslikeareptile!] But I remember he cited a lot of 60s and 70s music, particularly ââDancing in the Street.ââ The excerpt, folks:
These are songs to have grown up with:
I Wonât Dance - Fred  Astaire                                   My  hero. Completely disciplined, completely free.
Iâm Easy - Keith  Carradine                              From  Robert Altmanâs great film, Nashville.  The scene has an acting lesson  from Lily Tomlin.
Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts - Bob  Dylan                                    10am.  Monday morning. RADA student. Our brilliant teacher, June Kemp, gets us moving.
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - Roberta  Flack                                 Just  listen.
Desperado - Langley  Schools Music Project             Recorded in a school gym in  1976. The singer is 9 years old.
Dancing in the Street - Martha  and The Vandellas                    Just  dance.
Real Good For Free - Joni  Mitchell                                  She  says it all, really. No comment required.
Coney Island - Van  Morrison                                 Nostalgia  about everything. Everywhere.
Youâve Lost That Loving Feeling - The  Righteous Brothers                        Last  dance at the party. A red light bulb. The dregs of cheap wine.
Imagination - Little Jimmy  Scott                                  A  great jazz singer rediscovered just in time.
Anyhow, hereâs an excerpt from a similar one:
Obviously I was aware of the huge rise of The Police in England, and as an art student I was very much a fan of Talking Heads. And then Blondie, but I wasnât a hard punk-rock fan at the time. But of course I was also very much around the height of The Beatles and The Stones, so it was like that was the lone star and everything spun off from there. And [Bob] Dylan, very much so. ⊠England in the â60s and the â70s was everything that history has said; it was phenomenally exciting, musically. One was very shaped by that.
I have to say, he had good taste. And hereâs an excerpt from an older interview:
What is your favourite romantic song?Alan:Â ââTake It With Meââ by Tom Waits.What is your favourite Christmas song?Alan:Â ââMerry Christmasââ by John Lennon.
As well as from 2009:
Here is what the actor said about Georgian songs and food in the interview with Rustavi 2 TV in Georgia:ââGeorgian polyphonic gospel is a mystery. I have no idea where this voice comes from. Even though I have listened to it for quite a long [time], I simply cannot understand it.ââ
Thatâs all I have for now as far as Alan talking about music goes, so anyone, feel free to submit more that I may have missed! I hope this answers your questions.
P.S. English isnât my native language either. Youâre fine, honey. :)
Regards,
Emily
The Legilimens (Snape x Female Reader; 18+)
"He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease."
CW: Smut! 18+, minors DNI!

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Emotionally break severus. Thats my only need.
He can cum as a treat. But i need to see him crumble like a wet sandcastle.
I feel like this is the best âaskâ to fit with whatâs been written for this first chapter⊠ask and you shall receive đ€
18+ smuuuuuuutty, denial, emotional, and more smut
6.4k+ words
Severus Snape and the Human Condition
Chapter one:
No Complaining, Just Compliance
âThis can't be happening,â ⊠âSurely notâŠâ ⊠âNot to me.â were just some of the muffled words she could hear through the thin gap from his door not being closed properly.
Professor Snape didn't usually leave his chamber door open, not even a little crack, so this was a rarity. She knew he would've never done this on purpose. She knew he wasn't acting his usual self in there, and most importantly, she knew how he would react if he knew she was watching. She squinted her eyes slightly when she heard him groan, âI can'tâŠâ, followed by placing his head in his hands and exhaling loudly, almost angrily. She moved herself closer to the chamber door to try and get a better view of what was happening and attempt to hear what he was mumbling into his hands. She watched closely and intently as he paced about the room with his face still covered, growing more and more visibly distressed. He stopped suddenly and exhaled loudly, but when he brought his hands away from his face, their eyes met. In that split second, she witnessed him see red. Pure, humiliated, furious, red.
Hii! I absolutely love your Frank stories!
I was wondering if I could request a Frank x younger/reader? Maybe something like lazy morning sex, a domestic vibe, where Frank has the day off and you both get to sleep in and just enjoy the morning togetherâ ïžâșïž
Thank you so much! I love your writing!đâšđđđ
Title: Hold the Line
Summary: Frank tries to ignore his morning wood like any good soldier, until your thighs welcome him like a warm order. And this time, he follows instinct, not protocol.
Pairing: Frank Benson Ă Fem! Reader
Also read on Ao3
Severus is aware that heâs talented, that he has a brilliant mind, that heâs intelligent, and that heâs a powerful wizard, but even so, it would never in a million years occur to him that someone could feel even the slightest bit attracted to him. The mere idea of someone saying, âHey Snape, I think X likes you,â would first make him laugh hysterically out of sheer shock and irony, and then make him absolutely furious, because clearly that person must be messing with him like how could anyone possibly be even remotely attracted to him? It has to be a joke.
SFW Alphabet (Severus Snape)
To try and get back in the habit of writing more regularly, I thought I'd give this a try. Enjoy!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Severus is honestly pretty bad at showing affection at first. Not because it makes him uncomfortable, but because he's just never really experienced it before. It takes a while for him to learn from your own displays of affection, but once he gets the hang of it, he's like your own personal shadow (although he still won't do PDA).
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Becoming friends with Severus as teenagers at Hogwarts would be different from befriending him as adults. I think it would definitely be easier to earn his trust if the two of you knew each other when you were younger. He'd definitely be harder to connect with as an adult, but if you continued to show that he could trust you, he'd be unquestionably loyal as a best friend.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He'd never admit it of course, but he loves it. Especially after a long day, either on the couch or in bed. He wouldn't really have a preference of how you cuddled, as long as he was able to hold you. I think it would be really grounding for him to be able to hold you in his arms, and cuddling would be something that Severus really valued.
The Spell You Cast - Severus Snape
Summary: The smell of Amortentia can change over time. And while teaching, Severus notices a difference in his own. Yet the new scent is familiar to him. Where has he smelled it before?
Word Count: 1,028
Warnings: A little light angst

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You just donât listen do you?
Severus snape X f!Reader smut
ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â .
My first fanfic on here!
CW: teacher student relationship (reader is of age!) breeding, minor name calling, SMUT
ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â .
While your many years at hogwarts went by very quickly, it feels like only yesterday you first stepped foot onto the grounds. Even though you had to stay an extra year due to poor marks, you loved hogwarts the same nevertheless. With all the laughter and excitement you shared with your classmates and friends these years, your mind was always occupied with the thoughts of your potions teacher;
Severus Snape
You werenât sure what about him caught your eye, all you knew was that you wanted him, badly. None of your friends knew about your secret desire or you could even say , the hots for your teacher, how could you ever confess to that? But as your final year at the school comes near, thereâs a dreadful realization that once youâre graduate, thatâs it for your little dream when it came to him. As you daydream about graduation day and the fact youâll leave everything in this school behind very soon, sooner than you realize. Youâre suddenly brought out of your trance as Professor Snape smacks the back of your chair with his book.
ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â . ââ© ââ â . â .
"Daydreaming again, Miss (L/N)?" he asks, his voice heavy with irritation.
My eyes snap open, the force of the smack bringing me back to reality. I look up to see Professor Snape looming over my desk, his lips curled into a sneer. I shake awake at his words; now fully processing it. âOh shit..â I mutter . The class now quiet now as no one dared to say a word; the only sounds that could be heard were the bubbling cauldrons
âI-im sorry sir, im just a bit tired todayâ I say stuttering from embarrassment
âWell obviously youâve been tired for the past three weeks , obvious by looking at your marksâ Snape says harshly giving my seat another quick smack. I nearly jump in my seat , not daring to meet his gaze, I slightly tremble not knowing what to say next; what he would say next . âSee me after class miss (L/N), at this rate Iâll be surprised to see you graduate this schoolâ he says nearly snarling âI would hate to have you again as a student.â The class is still dead silent, as if everyoneâs waiting for something to happen. âYes sirâ I say muttering trying my best not to make it so obvious I was beyond embarrassed at the confrontation about my marks. Snape eyes me up and down before returning back to the front of the class, his dark robes trailing near his feet as he walked briskly. For the rest of the class period, i try my best to focus on the lecture, but i can't shake the feeling of the embarrassment I faced earlier. Every time you glance at Snape, i can feel his gaze on me, like a hawk watching its prey. I thought to myself, âI knew I wanted his attention but this is NOT what I meant..â I tap my foot against the cobblestone floor nervously, keeping my eyes down either at my shoes or my empty notes.
As the class comes to an end, the students pack up their things and start to leave. My friends give me a look of nervousness, I knew I had to stay back but the fact it was going to be just me and him alone in the classroom was so terrifying but somehow it wasnât in a scary way. Snape's voice rings out, stopping me in your tracks as i attempted to leave the classroom before he could see.
"Not you, Miss (L/N). Donât forget youâll be staying behind today."
I let out an annoyed groan before I turn around and face him, the realization that the only two people in this now empty classroom were you and him.
Your potion teacher, the one teacher you had the hots for
I feel my face slightly flush at the thought. The room was quietly; the only sound my nervous breaths in the still air. Snape stands at his desk, idly straightening some papers, his dark eyes never leaving you. I feel his eyes almost burning into me, even though i didnât look up once after we were alone, i could just feel it. I take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row.
"You've been struggling in my class for quite some time," he says, his voice low and stern. "Why do you think that is?"
âIâm just a bit scared that Iâll graduate soon sir.â I let out a nervous laugh, I tap my foot on the floor once again but this time even faster. Snape's eyes narrow slightly and he stops straightening the papers, his full attention now on me.
"Is that so?" he says, his voice neutral. "You think that's a valid excuse for your poor performance in my class?" Snape stands up and walks around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent classroom. He stands directly over me, his body just a few inches away from mine. I'm not one to tolerate excuses, Miss (L/N). I expect excellence from all my students, and you haven't been living up to those expectations.â He snarls
I shake at his words, heâs never scolded me in such a way like this other than today, sure heâs called me out in class for sleeping or missing notes, but never this way, never this close. I couldnât shake the feeling of fear and somehow, desire as well. For a few seconds longer I let my thoughts dwell until I bring myself to answer, âI apologize sir itâs just-â
He cuts me off slamming both his hands on the desk, the sound nearly echoing in the room. âI donât want to hear any of your excusesâ he groans, his facial expression changing to one thatâs obviously more irritated. âIâve heard it all before, you think Iâve never had a student who couldnât care less about my class Miss (L/N)? You wouldnât be the first he hissesâ He says his eyes fixing on me.
âBut sir thatâs not it I swear to Merlin, Iâve just been distrac-â I say frantically trying to prove to Snape wrong. Snape's hand reaches out quick and grips my chin, gripping it tightly and forcing me to look into his eyes. His eyes burn into mine as his face was mere inches away.
"You've been distracted?â he asks sarcastically , his voice a low growl. "It's a wonder how you manage to pass your other classes;if you even are at this point, with so much going on in that pretty little head of yours. Tell me, exactly what is causing this... distraction?â I tremble at let out a whimper as I feel his grip tightening on his face, He forces my chin up even higher to try to get an answer out of me. I see Snapeâs lips curl into a slight smirk, my breathing became more unsteady by the second , as I feel my desire and arousal growing.
âNothing sirâ I say looking scared
Snape backs me up to his desk. âYou must think Iâm stupid little girl, do you really think I was born yesterday?
I see the way you look at me in class, this entire year, donât try to deny it now miss (L/N), look at the way youâre quivering under my touch.â He says his voice trailing off and grip still steady on my neck. My breathing hitches at his words âfuck heâs rightâ I thought to myself. I feel my brows furrowing and my face becoming hotter by the second. I stir slightly at his grip needing more, more of his touch, I accidentally let out a soft moan. Snape nearly flinches at the sudden sound.
Your moan sent a shiver down Snapeâs spine. He can feel your body responding to his presence, the combination of fear and desire making both of your heads spin. He eventually releases my chin and moves even closer to me, his body now pressed against mine. His hand shaking around my waist with a grip that was almost painful and apparent with desire.
"I know what you want little girl," he whispers in my ear, his voice low and seductive. "And I have just the way to get you to admit it." My arms wrap around his neck to bring him closer. Merlin you just had to feel more of him..
He nips at my earlobe, his teeth biting at my skin. The feeling goes straight to your core, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes my lips. I feel my legs shaking around his waist. I breathe heavy in his ear, my face turning even more red at the realization that he hasnât even touched me yet and Iâm acting this way.
Snape lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Hush" he says, his hand moving to grip your hip. "No sounds until I tell you, if you want to misbehave in my class then youâll have to work for your pleasure. Bad girls donât get rewarded."
âYes sirâ I say shaking
He shifts himself so I can wrap around him better, I can feel his hard length lining up with my core. I grip his robes tightly as I feel it throb under his pants, the desires Iâve had are slowly becoming a reality, I have a hard time accepting that and my brain feels as itâs nearly melting at this point. I hear him groan as the readjusted position seems to have an effect on him too. I lightly squeeze my legs together and push myself further down onto his hardness just to be a bit of a tease to him.
I feel his grip on my hips tighten , his nails digging into the flesh of my thigh. His hand comes back up to grip my chin once more, âyou minxâ he hisses before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was possessive and rough, I moan as I feel him hold me tighter against him. His tongue slips into my mouth, it feels demanding, dominating even, I give into the feeling and let myself be devoured in that moment. It nearly feels like forever until I pull away from the kiss slightly to meet his gaze, breathing heavily with a moan in between each breath.
With my swollen parted lips and my eyes slightly heavy with lust âProfessorâ I say huffing with desire âRavage me.â His eyes widen at your words, a hungry grin spreading across his face. "You don't know what you're asking for, Miss (L/N). Are you sure you can handle it?"
âPlease!â I say nearly whining, my heads thrown back and my legs are shaking now more than ever. I feel the desire pooling in my core making it impossible to speak properly, all my words come out in almost a babble, but deep in my head I know Iâve entered dangerous territory, but you can't help yourself. You want this, you want him.
Snape smirks, his grip on you tightening. "Very well," he says, his voice a dangerous growl. "I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."
I can barely prepared what happens next until I feel him spin me around and pins me against his desk. His body pressed against mine even harder than before, his hands roaming over my body, his lips finding my neck once again.
"You asked for this," his voice a low growl. "And I'll give it to you, all of it.â
I moan loudly at the sudden feeling , my backside now exposed to him, I feel my legs slightly kick and twitch in anticipation.
Snape runs two fingers up and down my soaked panties then pulls them to the side, my body shakes slightly at the pleasure, I subconsciously let my moans out. I feel a tight grip on my hair then my head being pulled back, I hear him whisper; voice dripping like sweet dark desire. âI thought I made myself clear when I said to hush?â
âm so sorry sir! â I say with slight tears welling up in my eyes. He brings his face closer to my bare neck and I feel his lips biting on my exposed skin. I cover my mouth with one of my hands to muffle any potential moans that could come next. I shut my eyes and let my body accept the feeling.
âSuch a greedy thingâ he whispers in my ear as his grip on me tightens. I can only whimper in responseâSo bold of you to tell me to ravage you. You don't even know what you're asking for." His whisper turning a primal growl. I moan into my hand once more nodding feverishly, my body responding to his every touch and every word. His hand moves back down to my ruined panties, his grip tight and possessive on me. "But I'm going to give it to you, darling," he hisses. "And you're going to take whatever I give you, aren't you?"
âYes professor!â I cry out, my hips moving against his hands greedily. I feel my heart racing, my head is spinning, and I can barely think straight. I hear him laugh, his hand continue down its path down your body. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, his breath hot on your ear.
"I thought so,â he whispers. âYouâre trembling so much dear, you want this more than you'd like to admit, don't you?"
âYes sirâ I say burying my face into my arms shyly. My body still violently shaking with pleasure and embarrassment. I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling followed by the sound of fabric hitting the floor, he slips off my ruined panties as well. I nearly wince at the feeling of Snape rubbing the swollen head of his cock up and down my leaking slit. I moan loudly at the feeling and feel a sharp slap come down onto my behind. I arch my back at the sudden pain and shriek.
âYou just never listen do you Miss(L/N)?â
âPlease professor I canât take it anymoreâ I say tears running down my face now. âIm begging you pleaseâ I could no longer create coherent thoughts and all the words that came out of my mouth became nothing but babbling.
Snape chuckles âThen let it all out then dear.â
I feel him push past my fold, sheathing his entire length into my tight insides. I let out almost a scream at the feeling of pleasure. âProfessor!â I say crying out , I throw my head down even lower, not being able to keep it up any longer. He leans over my back and moans, âfuck, youâre so tight. Itâs like your body was made for me to claimâ He groans. He was now balls deep in me, I shake at the feeling of being stretched out so much and by the man I wanted so badly. He kissed and bites my shoulders and back wildly as he pounded me hard and primal into his desk. I felt my back arch as he gripped my hips tight and thrusted even harder. âYouâre so perfect..â I heard him mutter under his breath as he moaned. âmore please sir I can take itâ I say babbling , gripping onto the edge of the desk for dear life. Snape happily obliges, I feel my insides nearly split open as he continues his rough pounding. Hearing his guttural moans sends me over the edge.
His grip comes up to my throat , the gasp that came out my mouth sounded strangled yet full of pleasure. I feel another sharp slap come down my ass. âFuck!â I scream out
My potions teacher was ravaging my pussy, using my body.
My eyes begin to roll back into my skull as I let him do as he pleased with my body. I felt my desires begging to turn primal, âProfessor breed mâ pleaseâ I said barely holding onto my composure. A dribble of drool began to seep its way out of the corner of my mouth as I huffed. Snape come undone by my pleas and need to be bred.
I hear his breathing hitch into gasps, I feel him trembling as he continued to pound behind me as I heard him speak â youâre sure love? You want to take that chance? Youâre willing to let me breed you? Without any protection?â
Though I couldnât see behind me I still felt a smile creep onto Snapes face. âYes please breed me professor let mâ have your children! I cried outâ , whining at the need to be filled to the brim with his cum, to carry and become round with his children. All the thoughts and pleasure overstimulated me to the point where the only thing I could do was moan,whimper, and drool.
Snape fucks me even harder , the desk below me starts to creak and thump against the floor. I moan loudly at his brutal rough thrusts. âGonna fill you up so full with my cum darlingâ âgonna be so fucking pretty with your belly full with my children, youâd want that wouldnât you slut?â He asks , âyes please donât stopâ I babble not being able to lift my head up to speak properly. â
he groans at my fucked state, âgonna cum â he mutters. I feel his grip on my hips becoming tighter, his nails digging into my behind, his thrusts became more and more sloppy by the second, âmâ too sir â I say muttering; my brain nearly fried at that point. The volume of our moans combined eventually spilt us both over the edge. I feel Snape feel my warm cunt up full with his hot potent seed. Afterwards I felt him lean over my back for quite a while , obviously tired from that entire ordeal, maybe even a hint of hesitation when it came to pulling out played a part in that.
Eventually he did, drops of his seed dripped onto the floor under us, the withdrawal made me whimper at the loss of what made me feel full. Snape and I take another moment to collect our composure. He sets me upright on his desk and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
âGorgeous girl..â he mutters , I smile at his words , âIâve always wanted to do thatâ I say shyly
âI knowâ Snape says buckling his pants again.
I give him a pout at the fact he didnât play along, âcan I stay with you for tonight sir?â He rolled his eyes and nodded. I slip my underwear back on and readjust my skirt and top, I grab onto his arm, âdonât pretend like you donât like me sir, I know youâll miss me once I graduateâ I say still giving him a pout.
He gives me an irritated look but I could sense a slight bit of affection through it
âIâll still be seeing you after youâre graduated.â
I give him a sweet smile now holding onto his hand as he led me through the corridors to his quarters..
One day, western leftists will need to come to terms with the fact that Arab and Islamic colonization very much did and still does exist and that the negative impacts are still felt by ethnic groups that have been and still are violently colonized and brutalized by that colonial power.
Itâs actually really narcissistic to think that only white European or American countries can do wrong or violently colonize peoples and places. It simultaneously erases the suffering of indigenous peoples who suffered extremely at the hands of non-white colonial powers and infantilizes non-white people by believing they somehow arenât able to do bad things.
You should be able to recognize that some groups can be oppressed minorities in America and still be majority oppressors in other places.
Historically, Islamic colonizers have been just as insanely violent and destructive towards native cultures and people as Christian ones.
People just donât want to admit that the Islamic Golden Age, like the Dutch Golden Age, doesnât justify the widespread slavery and brutal war campaigns that occurred under multiple caliphates and sultanates such as the Delhi Sultanate, the Umayyad Caliphate, Timur, the Ottoman Empire (specifically the late stage Ottomans) and the Mughal Empire.
Did the Mughals, Ottomans, Umayyads, Timur etc patronize great artists, poets, scientists and create great architecture? Did they occasionally rule over long stages of peace and prosperity? Absolutely, but you can use this argument for the Briâish, the French, the Dutch etc and it still wouldnât erase their atrocities.
Read the Quran myself. Muhammad pillaged, enslaved, murdered and raped his way through the middle east and Islam hasn't changed a bit.