Keeper of the Superfluous Es! (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themostepotente) wrote2009-07-29 08:14 am
themostepotente) wrote2009-07-29 08:14 am
Ficlet: Chrysalis - Snape/Cormac (Hard R)
Title: Chrysalis
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
themostepotente
Word Count: 250 words
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Snape/Cormac
Warnings: Chan (Cormac is 16)
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, I just like to play in it.
Summary: Slughorn wasn't the only collector of gifted students.
Author's Notes: There was a cry for Snape/McLaggen fic (particularly because he's a lot hotter in the movie than he was in the book) of the detention sort, and lo, I stepped up to the challenge. Beta read over the phone by Veni, so if there are any mistakes, please to be telling me.
Chrysalis
Snape's seen a lot of students come and go in his fifteen-year tenure.
He observes every one, and like Slughorn, he's just as practised a collector, albeit sub rosa.
Every year, a pretty young thing makes himself known. This year it's a Gryffindor, in a league for once Potter's not privy to.
Cormac McLaggen's a looker, all fair-haired and dark-eyed. Sometimes, he has a march like a tin soldier, tall and proud and purposeful. Other times, he has a strut, cool and cutting, and Snape envies the way the crowds part before McLaggen, the Alexander to his barbarian hordes.
But Snape particularly notes the flit, the agile butterfly not so easily snared by conventional means. Detention makes for a fine net, he muses.
No lines are given. No cauldrons need scrubbing. But Snape's punishments are arduous and there are harsh lessons to be learnt.
McLaggen looks thoroughly despoiled, cock spent and face awash in the simpering moonlight. Foolish, foolish boy Snape says aloud, and he does not feel the burn of cigarette underneath his bare toes.
How tragic the mothman despises the chrysalis, Snape with his nocturnal ways and his attraction to the light, the butterfly that never was.
Snape crawls back into bed, his body still sleep-warm and his prick mad-hard. Mclaggen's legs part instantly, the poor, little wing-clipped whore.
Pin me to the bed. Pin me as a needlepoint would pierce its butterfly. They are the boy's words, and they are perfect.
And with a lust driven push Snape whispers, One more for the killing jar.
End
Author:
themostepotente Word Count: 250 words
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Snape/Cormac
Warnings: Chan (Cormac is 16)
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, I just like to play in it.
Summary: Slughorn wasn't the only collector of gifted students.
Author's Notes: There was a cry for Snape/McLaggen fic (particularly because he's a lot hotter in the movie than he was in the book) of the detention sort, and lo, I stepped up to the challenge. Beta read over the phone by Veni, so if there are any mistakes, please to be telling me.
Snape's seen a lot of students come and go in his fifteen-year tenure.
He observes every one, and like Slughorn, he's just as practised a collector, albeit sub rosa.
Every year, a pretty young thing makes himself known. This year it's a Gryffindor, in a league for once Potter's not privy to.
Cormac McLaggen's a looker, all fair-haired and dark-eyed. Sometimes, he has a march like a tin soldier, tall and proud and purposeful. Other times, he has a strut, cool and cutting, and Snape envies the way the crowds part before McLaggen, the Alexander to his barbarian hordes.
But Snape particularly notes the flit, the agile butterfly not so easily snared by conventional means. Detention makes for a fine net, he muses.
No lines are given. No cauldrons need scrubbing. But Snape's punishments are arduous and there are harsh lessons to be learnt.
McLaggen looks thoroughly despoiled, cock spent and face awash in the simpering moonlight. Foolish, foolish boy Snape says aloud, and he does not feel the burn of cigarette underneath his bare toes.
How tragic the mothman despises the chrysalis, Snape with his nocturnal ways and his attraction to the light, the butterfly that never was.
Snape crawls back into bed, his body still sleep-warm and his prick mad-hard. Mclaggen's legs part instantly, the poor, little wing-clipped whore.
Pin me to the bed. Pin me as a needlepoint would pierce its butterfly. They are the boy's words, and they are perfect.
And with a lust driven push Snape whispers, One more for the killing jar.
End
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That was delish! I want to see the movie now, just to get a picture of this Cormac. ♥
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Want an idea of what movie!McLaggen looks like? Picture Ryan Phillipe. They could be twins. Or identical cousins :P
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♥
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More. There must be more. I demand it. D:
So good. So so good. Words are failing. So hot. Snape. Prick. WORDS. Guh.
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I wanted to make this longer. Really, I did, but I porned my
We'll see if I can't get to this pairing again sometime soon. Movie!Cormac was too hot for words. *G*
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Also, your icon rocks so hard!
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I kinda wrote this with you in mind.
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