wanking_mods (wanking_mods) wrote in hp_wankfest, @ 2008-06-07 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008 fic |
Neville Longbottom in the Hogwarts Dungeons with Snape's Buttons
Title: Obsession
Author: half_the_girl
Character: Neville Longbottom
Location: Hogwarts Dungeons
Object: Snape's Buttons
Other Characters: Severus Snape
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 506
Disclaimer: I own only a filthy mind, all intellectual properties related to Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling.
Author's Notes: Neville crosses the line between fear and obsession.
Neville Longbottom crept through the dungeons as quietly as he could manage, his right hand possessively over his trouser pocket. In it was his most prized possession: a single small, black button that would have held little fascination, but for its source. During the first week of classes, while the fearsome professor was looming over his desk, ridiculing him (yet again) for some careless mistake, it had popped off of Severus Snape's collar and landed quite neatly in his lap. He would have given it back, had the professor not already terrified him into total paralysis. Why he initially kept it was anyone's guess, perhaps as a talisman against further public browbeatings, but it had become the centerpiece of elaborate fantasies that he now played out nightly.
He slipped into an empty room, adjacent the Potions office and sufficiently removed from the Slytherin Common Room to avoid being seen. Safely inside, he pressed his back against the damp stone wall separating him from the office and let the cold seep through his robes, sending shivers down his spine. His cock twitched and began to rise as the sensation spread through his belly, and his left hand slid down to meet it. His right hand fished the treasured button from its hiding place and pressed it between his lips. Eyes closed, he imagined longer, paler fingers than his own drawing him out, tugging the foreskin and sliding it over the sensitive head. Another hand gently cupped his balls, caressing the tender spot just behind them. Hesitantly at first, then with greater confidence, the nimble fingers stroked him. A rhythm now established, he caught the button between his teeth, rolled his tongue over the grooves and edges, sucking on it hungrily, though any trace of its former owner had long since been washed away.
Neville arched into the pleasuring hand of his fantasy, hearing clearly in his mind the once-condescending voice now laced with desperation, begging for release that only he could provide, pleading not with Mr. Longbottom, but with Neville, to make him come. No longer the student, eager to please and so often inept, but an equal with power of his own, Neville would take his time with all those confining buttons; he'd drive their prisoner mad before rewarding the man's pleas with lavish cocksucking. The thought of this long-feared professor at his mercy pushed Neville over the edge, and he came with a stifled groan, the convulsions sending crackling pleasure along every nerve.
Pressed against the wall to keep his legs from buckling as the spasms subsided, he returned the button to his pocket and muttered a cleansing charm. Satisfied that all trace of him had been removed from the room, he vaguely wondered what Professor Snape did in his office at this late hour, and whether it was anything like what he did on this side of the wall. After a moment's consideration, he supposed not; only a lifetime of repression could explain the man's attitude. Maybe one of these days he'd change that.