You wake up in bed with Snape, your naked body nestled against his, his breaths of deep slumber slow and steady. You look up at his profile, his dark lashes closed and brushing his cheekbones, his silhouette absolutely stunning against the early light seeping through the curtains.
You slip beneath the covers while he sleeps, scooting down and lying between his legs, your soft hair brushing his thighs. You timidly take his member in your hand and begin licking it softly and distributing tiny kisses up and down its sides. It begins growing in your hand, larger and harder as you lick, kiss and stroke it. You hear a deep groan come from above the covers, his body reverberating against yours.
You taste the little beads of pre-cum, it coats your lips and your kisses become sticky against his hardness. You slip your lips over the tip and lightly suck, eliciting a moan from him. Your tongue roughly swirls over it and licks his glans. You take him deeper in your mouth and he gasps, your lips gliding over his long, now throbbing cock.
You pump your head up and down, his sex slipping deeper, quiet little chokes coming from your throat. His hand slips beneath the sheet and grasps your hair, a growl escaping his lips as you suck hard, increasing your pressure. He guides you up and down slowly over his cock, his gasps now turning into moans. You increase your speed, one hand grasping his shaft and pumping while the other grips his thigh. You feel his cock throbbing hard inside you, his breaths and moans intensifying. Your sucks become harder, consistent and unrelenting. Eventually you feel his cock swelling before his mounting orgasm. "Oh...oh, Y/n...!"
Just before he climaxes, you drop him from your mouth and snicker quietly, causing an angry roar to escape him. Before you can think, he rips back the sheets and pulls you up from under them, grasping your body and throwing you on your back. His strong hands pin you down by your arms on either side of you. "What...have I told you. About teasing me?" he seethes, the anger radiating from his black eyes. "Whatever do you mean, Professor?" you ask innocently. His big hand grasps your face, pulling your gaze to his. "Don't. Test me, Witch."
You shudder at his anger, your middle throbbing with arousal, his member pressed against your stomach. You smile coyly, "I don't know what you're talking about..." you slither underneath him, his wet hardness rubbing against your soft skin. His eyes darken and you had never seen Professor Snape show such aggression, his voice loud and rough.
"Then I suppose..." he flips you over on your stomach forcefully and shoves a pillow beneath your hips, tilting them upward, "I ought..." One hand pins your wrists down over your head, "...to remind you..." while his other moves your thighs apart, opening you up. Sweat beads your forehead as you feel his finger slip inside your dripping, pulsing quim and you gasp. He slides in and out, opening you up to him, preparing you for his girth. "Allow me to jog your memory," he hisses, the head of his cock sliding inside, stretching you. You gasp, your fingers clutching the bedsheets. He moans behind you, slowly sinking deeper, deeper, inside.
His hand grasps your hip and pulls you back onto his cock. He fills you up to the brim, this angle hitting deep places within you. Your breaths become more and more erratic with his thrusts, the soft fabric of the pillow beneath you grazes your clit. His speed increases, his grip tightening and suddenly his hand comes down in a hard smack against your ass. You whimper. He growls irately, his loud voice booming in the room, "Your insolence will not be tolerated," his thrusts becoming harsh, "And you will learn your place..." He smacks you hard again then continues fucking you angrily, your head swimming with the intoxication of it.
Waves of pleasure rush over you, moans of it spilling loudly from your lips, "Oh...! I..." He angles himself away from your clit, slowing his pace, torturously sliding in and out of you. You sob, "Please, Professor...?" his hand reaches a fistful of your hair and yanks it up, looking down at you. "Please...what?" he seethes. "Please let me cum..." you cry softly. "You will have to do better than that," he says, dropping your head and continuing his torture.
Your skin tingles and hurts and feels amazing all at once. "P...please, I'm sorry!" "For what?" You moan, "For teasing you..." He chuckles, "That's my good girl..." he shifts himself and continues thrusting roughly into you, over and over, hitting all the right places, your throbbing clit finally stimulated into release as you scream in ecstasy. "Oh, Severus, I fucking love you! I love...fucking you!" you sob loudly, your moans filling the room.
He growls deeply at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts harder and faster, his own breaths turning into gasps and moans, finally blossoming into his ejaculation, the deep groans and cries of that sultry voice etched into your mind.
His pants and gasps slow, his breathing softening. He leans down to your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating through your whole body, "I love fucking you, too..." You smile as he slips out of you and carries you to your aftercare routine.
You manage to slip back to your dorm unseen, the thrill of secrecy sending sparks of alertness, aliveness to your chest. Your mind drifts back to your conversation in the tub last night. All that you had seen in his shattered mind, a life lived at the whim of others. No wonder he had seemed so miserable all these years. His hope had already been stamped out before he was even a man. Your heart aches for the little boy from the troubled house on Spinner's End.
You mull over your plans for the future, wondering how you will fit into each other's lives. "The English countryside..." There are beautiful farmlands and villages not far from London. You wonder if perhaps you could visit each other if he were to find somewhere near the city, far enough for peace and quiet. He also had so much expertise and wisdom he could share with the Ministry, and perhaps he would consider occasionally collaborating his efforts with it. You would love to have his insight and support on opening the new branch dedicated to the things he was phenomenal at––magical herbs and potions. Maybe he could come in from time to time.
Your thoughts return to the present, and with such an exciting start to your day, you get dressed quickly. You smell his soap on your skin, and a silly grin spreads across your face. You're eager to rush through your classes so you can arrive at the last one of the day, aching to just be near him again.
At lunch, you sit with Peter and Rupert and ask quietly, "So, I've been asked a couple of times about Christmas break. What are your plans? We should corroborate our stories, right?" His brow arches in agreement, "Oh, yes. I've only been asked seven times by the quidditch guys if we're getting a cabin together to have wild sex for the full two weeks." Rupert stifles a laugh, "Well...it's not entirely out of the question, though perhaps with a slight change of company..." Your eyes widen at his boldness, Peter's cheeks flush red and he stares at his plate, "Oi, rein it in a bit! You can't get me flustered at lunch around all these prudes," Rupert smiles devilishly at Peter's shyness, his eyes playfully scanning his face. You smile at them and wonder if Severus ever looks at you that way when you aren't looking.
Speaking of. What will he do for the holiday? How does he normally spend his Christmases?
The light of the December sun is already disappearing from the grey sky by the time you enter potions class, the room lit with sconces on the walls, the flames casting dancing shadows in the dark room. Professor Snape begins his lecture, your eyes roaming his gorgeous, distinguished form. He always stands much taller compared to those around him. He instructs the class to begin brewing the potion you've all been studying this week, the Draught of Living Death. "I recommend crushing the sopophorous bean rather than slicing it," his deep timbre advises.
You suddenly feel a slight tickle at your center, right near your––you stifle a gasp. A deep, silent vibration sweeps from your clit, your thighs squeezing together at the sensation. You glance up at Snape, his dark eyes amused and mischievous. Is he––during class?
You turn your eyes back to your textbook in an attempt to keep your focus on brewing. Powdered root of asphodel...you swallow hard, struggling to control your breathing. Stir...stir seven times. An...anti-clockwise... Your hand grips the desk as ripples of pleasure sweep from your core, your breathing quietly labored. You look up pleadingly at the Professor, but a small, smug smile tugs at his lips. Wetness seeps from you at his sexy cruelty.
You force yourself to breathe through your nose, pleasure awakening every nerve from your core to your extremities, trying not to double over. Your knees wobbly, you sit down on the bench, steadying yourself against the desk. You stifle a gasp as the sensations increase, becoming too much and you grit your teeth as your thighs tremble with sparks of euphoric, torturous rushes of pleasure.
"Are you alright, Y/n?" Ben was asking, a concerned look on his face. "I..." You steel yourself and swallow hard, sweat on your temples, "Oh, yeah, the heat from the cauldron was just making me a bit faint," you try to laugh off. He goes back to his work and your chest rises and falls with slow, deliberate breaths. You glance up at Snape who is smirking at you. The intensity of his smoldering eyes locked on yours sends you collapsing into your bliss, and you part your lips slightly and squeeze your eyes shut. You bite your lip hard, forcing your whimpers to stay inside, quiet as a mouse.
You slowly regain your composure and open your eyes, looking back at Snape wearing a self-satisfied look, though you notice him move behind his desk to hide his growing intrigue. You at once understand the purpose of last night's lesson.