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You swirled the small teaspoon round the cup in front of you over and over again. Looking down from your place at the teacher’s table in the Great Hall, you stared past the rows of students eating piles of toast and eggs through the huge oak double doors at the front of the space. Severus was never usually this late to breakfast; his seat stood empty beside you, and you hoped to see his dark frame appear in the doors at any moment.
Since you’d taken the Astronomy professor’s job at Hogwarts two years prior, you’d always sat in this seat, and Severus had always sat in the one next to you. Out of all your colleagues, you preferred Severus the most. It wasn’t as though you disliked the other members of the Hogwarts staff, but you were friendly with them in the way of colleagues. Severus was your devoted friend. He was a silent but wise man, who would listen contentedly to you whilst you prattled on about nothing in particular, only ever interjecting when he felt he had valuable advice to offer. All of the other faculty had been surprised when you’d befriended him, as he wasn’t the easiest to get along with. When you’d first met him, he’d been incredibly standoffish and rude, but you did him a favour one evening by helping him mark a huge pile of potions homework in the staff room, and ever since that moment, he never objected to your presence at his side.
You’d connected over your enthusiasm for foraging and knowledge of classic literature, which led him to find a rare volume you could never find on your own to gift to you at Christmas time. He’d let you in on the fact he was a skilled legilimens early on, so you could think of things to tell him and he would see them with your permission; you had had full conversations this way without you having to even open your mouth.
It also happened that you found him attractive; you knew Occlumency, but were not entirely skilled, so you deemed it a miracle you’d managed to hide this from him. You weren’t ready to tell him yet for fear of scaring your closest friend away, but you felt if you were to look into the Mirror of Erised, you’d see him standing next to you.
His absence at the table did nothing to quell your anxiety; had he somehow broken through your mental barriers and figured it out? No, of course not. It probably had nothing to do with you. But what was up? It was nearly nine o’clock and classes were due to start.
You turned to Professor McGonagall, who was sitting to your left, and tried to act like you weren’t terribly concerned over something so trivial. “Professor, have you seen Severus this morning?”
“I’m afraid he’s called out of work for today, dear,” she said apologetically, “he sent me an owl this morning, personal matters. I’ve had to get substitutes in to cover his classes.”
“Oh,” you said, barely masking your shock. “Is he alright?”
“I’m not sure, we better hope it’s nothing too serious.”
You nodded softly and turned back to your tea. Today was going to be a boring, lonely day.
At noon during lunchtime, you made your way down through the grounds for a walk. The air was nippy, and bit at your cheeks, so you had to pull a scarf up over your mouth to protect your face. The sun peaked out from behind patches of grey clouds, and reflected itself off the deep blue water in the grey lake. On your way down the hill, you spotted Hagrid in his pumpkin patch and waved to him. He waved a gigantic hand back at you and you walked towards him.
“Gud af’ernoon, Professor!” he beamed, his beetle-like eyes twinkling in the noon sunlight. “It’s a bit nippy today, innit?”
“It’s freezing, I think it's the breeze rippling over the lake that’s making it worse,” you smiled. You glanced at his hands, which were gloved and covered in dirt. “You’ve certainly got your hands full with pumpkins.”
“Aye, Professor Dumbledore wants ‘em ready for the Hallowe’en feast next week,” he said. He paused, as though he were trying to remember something and his eyes lit up when he said, “Oh! I was meant to keep ‘un for Professor Snape as well; he needed it for some sort of potion or other. Have you seen him at all t’day?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Unfortunately not, Professor McGonagall said he’d taken the day off.”
“Well, that’s certainly not like Professor Snape,” Hagrid said, looking just as puzzled as you felt, “I don’t think he’s ever missed a day and he’s bin here gud and well over a decade.”
“Mmm,” you hummed, “I’m wondering if he’s alright. I’ve missed his company.”
Hagrid paused before saying. “If you need an excuse to go up ‘n’ check on ‘im later, tell ‘im Hagrid has the pumpkin he needed,” he winked with a little smile.
“I think I shall,” you smiled back, “have a nice afternoon, Hagrid.”
“You ‘n’ all, Professor,” he replied cheerily, waving you off as you walked down your usual route, missing your usual walking companion.
At the end of the school day, you found yourself on the way down the 4th Floor corridor, which led to Severus’ quarters. You’d never been in them before, but he’d told you where they were in case you ever needed to find him during emergencies. You had just got to his door, but before you could knock, you could hear what sounded exactly like pained, human noises from behind it. The door muffled them, but they were loud enough from your perspective outside that you grew instantly alarmed. You skipped the convention of knocking and burst into the room.
“Severus, are you-” you started, but the sight before you rendered you speechless.
The living room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a small fire in the fireplace that was on the verge of turning to embers; the green silk curtains were drawn on both of the large windows. But even in the ashen light of the room, you could make out Severus sprawled across a leather sofa.
He looked like a far cry from the well put-together, stern colleague you were used to seeing on a daily basis, but it was still clearly him. His thick, chin length onyx hair was completely dishevelled, and strands of it had bound themself to his pale face which in the light of the fire you could see glistened with sweat. His frock coat was discarded on the floor, and his white undershirt – whilst still on his body – was halfway unbuttoned, exposing his bare, surprisingly toned chest. His black cravat laid undone around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up to above his elbows. The Dark Mark loomed on his left forearm, but that was not that part of his arm that drew your attention. Whilst the hand of his right arm had a death grip on the side of the couch, the long, slender fingers of his left hand were wrapped around his exposed cock, which was poking out of his unbuttoned trousers.
His massive cock; he was extremely well endowed with a girthy shaft that was standing at full attention; his pale pink tip shone with precum. The way his fingers expertly worked their way up and down his dick made heat pool in your stomach. This was only exacerbated by the look on his face which was frozen in an expression of what you thought was ecstasy. He was a work of art made for a mind’s eye to forever cherish.
You were only able to behold him in this state for a moment, however, before he noticed your presence. His eyes widened as they locked onto yours. Your mouth popped open of its own accord, ready for you to say something but you weren’t quite sure what. You could have mentioned Hagrid and his pumpkin, but given the situation, that seemed ridiculous. For a solid five seconds, time stood stock still. Neither of you moved or said a word. Eventually, time remembered its mode of operation and sped back up, and the chaos of the situation had hit the pair of you like a ton of bricks. Severus sat up and yanked his sleeve back down over his arm, hiding the Dark Mark from your sight which was odd since you knew about his past as a Death Eater, and he was aware.
“For MERLIN’S SAKE, woman!” he bellowed, grabbing one of the many green cushions scattered over the sofa to use to cover his nether regions, “Don’t you know how to knock? Get out!”
“I-I’m so sorry,” you sputtered, swivelling on your heel to run out the door. Amnesia sounded like a wonderful thing to you in that moment; to be able to wipe your brain of all embarrassment. Just as you had braced your hand on the door knob, however, something inside you made you pause.
Your intuition was telling you to stay.
“Please,” he said through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to have to shout at you again, just go.”
Please.
That one word solidified it for you – in the two years you had worked alongside him, you knew that Severus Snape never said ‘please’ to anyone. Something was up.
You let go of the door knob and turned around to face him. The look in his eyes frightened you; they contained a frenzied gleam. Yet at the same time, it was mixed with something else. For a second you couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but when you took in his whole face, it was apparent that he looked incredibly desperate. Helpless. He was trying his best to conceal it, but you saw right through him.
“Go,” he bit out, “I will drag you out if I have to.”
This was the harshest he had spoken to you in a long time; but in all honesty, he didn’t look capable of dragging you out in the slightest. You surmised he was being deliberately callous with his words in order to make you turn around, but you wouldn’t be phased. You inched a few steps towards him, almost tripping over his black dress shoes in the process; he’d chucked them on the floor along with the frock coat.
When you got closer, the absolute state he was in became more evident. The sweat you had thought only confined to his face actually coated his entire body; he was perspiring so profusely that his shirt was sodden through, especially at the pits. His cheeks burned scarlet against his otherwise peaky face. His violently quaking arm was the only thing keeping his top half upright; the veins in his exposed forearm popped out tremendously, and his other hand gripped the cushion in his lap like it was a lifeline.
“Severus, what’s wrong with you?” You asked slowly.
His eyes hardened. “You’re the one who walked into my quarters without knocking and you have the gall to ask what’s wrong with ME?”
You contemplated his words before their meaning struck you. “Oh, no I… um… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…”
“Spit it out," he said venomously.
“It’s just that you look very unwell,” you said. You took him in again and it appeared to you that he was trying with all his might not to buck his hips upwards into the cushion. You averted your eyes.
“I’m fine,” he spat.
“You seriously don’t look it, have you been down to see Poppy at all today?”
“You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?”
“Not if I can help it, no. Look it’s okay if you feel embarrassed if I saw.. Well, um… you… but if you’re unwell, maybe I can try to help you–”
“You can’t help,” he interrupted. He sighed deeply and let himself fall back onto the sofa again, his cravat sliding off of him altogether. He lay like a limp ragdoll, his breath escaped his parted lips and his brow was furrowed in frustration. He was particularly handsome when he was exasperated.
“Why not?” you said, crossing your arms.
“Let’s just say my ailment is not an easy one to go about fixing,” he muttered. “You bore witness to my attempt to cure myself when you strode in here.”
“Wait, that was,” you started, “that… the uh…” Your cheeks burned.
“The wanking was the only thing I could try,” he finished your point unabashedly. The way the sentence left his lips so casually, without shame, made your stomach flutter.
“What exactly is ‘it’?” you asked tentatively. “I might know a solution.”
He tried to sit up, using his arm to help him again, but the sudden movement made him groan loudly. His hips bucked up into the cushion involuntarily; gritting his teeth, he used his hands to steady his hips, a futile attempt to regain control over himself. You tried to approach him, but he raised his hand to stop you.
“For your own safety, stay back. Please do what I tell you.”
“Severus, you’re starting to scare me.”
He hesitated briefly, as if he thought it would be better to refrain from divulging something to you. But after a deep shuddering breath, he began, “I was in the Forbidden Forest yesterday evening gathering some rare ingredients for a decently complicated potion. Dumbledore needed it for something or other, he never told me what. That’s not important. When I was gathering some roots growing from a spot I’d visited before, I noticed some mysterious new spores on a tree right beside the root patch.”
“What were they?”
“I didn't know what they were exactly, but they looked vaguely familiar to me, like something I recollected from my forager’s guidebook. It turns out they were listed in a little book I bought in Diagon Alley last year – it was spores that released sex pollen.”
“Oh, crap,” you murmured. You had heard of sex pollen from a book you’d nicked from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library when you were seventeen. You never thought that specific information would ever become relevant to you… until this moment.
“Evidently, I got too close to them and breathed them in; If I don’t manage to pull myself off, this fever will soon kill me.”
“But that’s not going to work,” you said emphatically, “only sex with another person is known to be effective.”
“You don’t think I’ve realised that?” New beads of sweat formed at his temple and trickled down his face, past the curve of his chiselled jaw. He added, “I’m determined to make that work as it's the only option I have.”
“Are you dense?” you asked bluntly. “Severus, you are DYING. You WILL die if you continue to just lie here.”
“What else do you suppose I do?” he growled, still attempting to keep his hips in check. “By the time I find someone in Hogsmeade willing to shag me, I’d be dead. I also can’t exactly whore myself out to anyone in this castle.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, ARE YOU DENSE?”
He cursed you under his breath and ran his fingers through his dark, sweaty hair.
Suddenly emboldened, you said, “I’m right here.”
His head snapped to yours. “I can’t consider you as an option, not at all.”
“Why, am I that butt ugly?”
“No,” he groaned in pure frustration.
“Then why not?” you challenged. “By your own admission, you have limited options. You are going to die, you need help and I am right here.”
“I am not fully in control of my own body,” he said raggedly, “I cannot risk physical injury to you when I’m in a completely unpredictable state.”
“Severus, I’m imploring you to see reason; it doesn’t have to be me if you really are that terrified of hurting me, which I, for one, am not scared of in the slightest. Maybe we can find someone quickly in Hogsmeade, someone who’s okay with you going a bit rougher and–”
“Not in a million years,” he interrupted.
“Oh, why not?” you snapped back.
He paused and took a deep breath. “You see this?” he rolled up his sleeve again to show you his Dark Mark; it was sat emblazoned on his forearm like an angry red scar. “Believe it or not, this is a massive turn off for potential sexual partners. Nobody would think twice about touching someone as horrible as an ex-Death Eater.” He sighed deeply and added, “I don’t really blame them. I’m unfuckable, unloveable and unthinkable.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. The Dark Mark hadn’t even crossed your mind for a moment. You supposed it was because you knew Severus; he was not a perfect man by any means – he had the potential to be snide, cold and even infuriating. But from the stories you’d heard about him – stories circulated by gossipers, and even some he offered up to you of his own volition – you could see that he was no longer that troubled young man.
“I know you won’t believe me,” you said hesitantly, choosing your words carefully, “but when I walked into this room, that mark on your arm didn’t even phase me.” You remembered how his beautiful, manly hand gripped his member, working it quickly and desperately. “To be completely honest, I was more preoccupied with how handsome you looked.”
Your words stunned him to silence. He held your gaze, obviously penetrating the barriers of your mind, likely looking for ulterior motives or any hint of a lie. Silence blossomed between you, and anxiety took its place in your gut. Were you being too forward? Was there a chance you were misreading his expression and he really did find you repugnant and didn’t want to say it out loud? Your overactive mind swam with thoughts you’d rather not be thinking, especially when you were standing in front of a man who you knew could read them all if he wanted to.
“You are not repugnant,” he said softly. He beheld you momentarily, breathing shallowly; he continued to grip the cushion in his lap like it was his last tether to Earth. “You are one of the most lovely people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
His words hit like a pang to your heart, and it suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“I do not want to hurt you,” he said unevenly, “and most importantly, I do not want to put our friendship in jeopardy over this.”
“There won’t be a friendship if I can’t help you,” you reasoned, “you’ll be dead, and I’ll have nobody.”
You got a little closer to him. He said nothing to you, staring at you in silent disbelief. “You say you’re unthinkable,” you chuckled humourlessly, “but funnily enough I think of you all the time. Your friendship makes my days pleasant. I wake up every day, excited to see you, to eat my lunch with you, to help you mark homework. You don’t realise it, but the best parts of my day are the ones where we get lost in endless conversation. I missed it today. It’s selfish, but I don’t want to lose you, Severus.”
Neither of you spoke. Of course, you found him incredibly attractive and seeing him – ALL of him – did something to you. But as turned on as you were, you knew deep down you wanted to do this to save your friend’s life. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Come here,” he croaked.
Your heart fluttered. Obliging him, you closed the distance between you and him and sat yourself down on the wedge of the sofa that poked out next to his torso. You could see that tears had collected at the corners of his eyes. Before you could ask about them, he added, “If I hurt you, I will never forgive myself. You must promise to tell me if or when something is too much for you.” You nodded softly. He nodded back.
“What do you need from me?” you whispered.
He sat up, arm straining once more, and gently cupped your face. You leant into the touch of his moist palm, taking your own hand up to trace the back of his.
“I need these lovely hands of yours wrapped around me this instant or I feel that I might burst.” You tried your best to keep your face composed, but you felt yourself getting incredibly wet. His hand moved from your face to grasp your hand tightly.
You positioned yourself on the sofa so that you were kneeling between his legs. Still gripping your hand, he used his other one to fling the cushion across the room; it landed against the wall with a soft thud. His cock sprang up and he grimaced at the movement. You couldn’t take your eyes off it. He moved your hand to it and you took him in your soft palm. He whimpered softly when your fingers wrapped around his shaft, falling back onto the sofa once more. You worked his cock slowly, swivelling your hand with every pump; your thumb sliding up to stroke the soft pink head.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his back arching slightly. “This is working better than anything I tried myself.” You smirked, returning your attention back to his throbbing erection. You added your spare hand to his base and he groaned loudly at the extra contact. You felt yourself getting even wetter through the fabric of your underwear, just knowing that your touch was giving him the relief he desperately needed.
You leaned your face over his pelvis. The tip of his hard-on was almost grazing your plump, moist lips. You glanced sideways to him for his consent.
“Please.”
That did it. You removed your right hand whilst keeping your left at his base. Slipping your tongue out of your mouth, you made contact with his tip and you left little kitten licks all over his slit, all the while continuing to work his shaft with your hand. The hiss he let out when you licked him was like ecstasy. You felt his long fingers interlace themselves in your hair and the slight pressure he applied on the back of your head was encouragement enough for you to take him in your mouth. You removed your other hand, relaxed your throat and sunk your mouth onto him as far as you possibly could. The tip of your nose almost touched his pubic bone, which was covered in neatly trimmed black hair.
He groaned again, his grip on your hair tightening. You moved your head, hollowing your cheeks. His breathing had become completely erratic. You continued at your own steady pace for a brief amount of time before it was evident you weren’t moving fast enough for his liking. He brought his other hand to your head, and used both hands to keep your head still. When your head was satisfactorily immobilised, he thrust into your mouth frenetically. His hips snapped up and down, filling your mouth with more and more of his cock with each thrust. Your eyes stung with tears, and your gag reflex was repeatedly tested but you held yourself there. Whilst you were used to giving gentler blowjobs, you had to admit you rather liked how he was using your mouth.
He was incredibly vocal; as he fucked your mouth harshly, he panted and, on several occasions, groaned your name. “You’re doing so well, darling,” he rasped, “so fucking well.” You hummed against him, your lips having gone completely numb from the friction.
You continued in this way for several minutes, his balls hitting your chin as you swallowed his girthy cock. Eventually, however, when you felt like your jaw couldn’t take it anymore, you got his attention by trying to pull your head off. When he realised what you were attempting to do, he relinquished his grip on your head and you pulled your lips off of him with a pop.
“Is everything okay?” he panted.
“I’m fine, don’t worry, my jaw is just getting a little tight so I want to stop.”
He sat up fully and returned his hands to your face. “You looked ever so wonderful with your lips locked onto my cock like that, you precious thing.” He swung his legs off the side of the sofa and got to his feet shakily. He offered his hand out to you and you took it. Seeing the concern in your face, he said, “I’ll be fine on my feet for a while, don’t worry.”
He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and discarded it on the floor like the rest of his clothes, so he was standing in front of you completely barechested; the only clothing on his body were his trousers which were riding down his thighs. You reached out and pressed your fingertips to his chest, letting them roam around his nipples and pass the curve of his pecks until he turned you around gently by your shoulders so you stood with your back to him. He pressed himself into you and rested his chin softly on the back of your head. He enveloped you with his warmth, and you could feel every inch of him burning into you. His cock pressed rigidly against the swell of your ass. The only thing keeping him from your body was the fabric of your dress, and God, you wished that he would rip it off you.
“Do you feel me against you?,” he purred in your ear, and you nodded. He ran his hands up your thighs until they were under your skirt, and lightly gripped your hips. You felt his hips buck into your ass, his hard length pushing right against your skin. You moaned softly, and he responded by doing it again. “Your arse is perfect,” he breathed in your ear, continuing to hump you from behind. You found his hands at your waist and placed your own hands on top of them; you guided one of them slowly up your torso and stopped when he’d reached the swell of your breast. He squeezed it through the fabric of your dress, and you moaned louder this time.
You encouraged his other hand to the front of your dress to your clothed pussy, which made him chuckle. “You really are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” he smirked.
His hips continued to grind into yours, making you hot and breathless and barely able to speak. “I have to admit I’ve been a bit turned on all this time.”
“A bit is an understatement, you’re forgetting I can read your mind.” You blushed hard, and he must have sensed it because he said, “Let’s see just how wet you are, my darling.”
His fingers slipped into the band of your underwear and slid themselves between your slick folds. You gasped at this sudden action, and whined when he rolled your clit between his two fingers. “You’re even wetter than I thought you were,” he teased, “perfect for when I slip my cock inside you and fuck you till you can’t walk.”
Severus moved his fingers in time with every grind of his hips into your ass, savoring the sight of you writhing against his hand and moaning his name. You reached your arms behind you and tangled your hands in his mess of dark hair. “I can’t take it any longer,” he breathed against your head, “I need this dress off you now.”
He stood back for a moment to reach down and help you pull your dress up over your head before flinging it on top of his forgotten shirt. Then he turned his attention to your bra, undoing it one handedly whilst pressing feverish kisses to the back of your neck. That too got flung to the side, along with your underwear until you were completely exposed in front of him.
“You’re such a sight for pitifully sore eyes as mine,” he said, and you swore you could almost see drool on his lips as he stared at you hungrily.
“Glad I could be of help,” you smiled, and you giggled when he turned you back around, assuming his position pressed against you. The contact of his dick on your bare ass made you sigh.
“Your legs are divine,” he purred in your ear. He trailed his hands along your soft thighs and squeezed them gently. “I’m going to ask you to do something slightly unconventional.”
“What is it?” You said, before gasping sharply as he groped both of your breasts in his hands. His thumbs flicked over your rock-hard nipples, and you arched your chest into his palms, craving the sensation.
He leant closely into your ear; you could feel the heat from his flushed face, and you wondered how he was still standing in spite of his uneven breathing. “I need you to part your legs, and when you feel my cock against your inner thigh, I want you to close your legs again,” he muttered, “not too hard, we wouldn’t want you to crush me now, would we?”
You shook your head. You did as he asked, widening your legs just a tad until you felt him slide his cock between the gap to rest on your leg. On closing your legs again, you realised what he was doing.
Severus shifted his erection slightly so it was wedged between your upper-middle thighs before he threw his arms around your stomach to steady himself; his trousers had fallen to his knees at this point, descending down his legs with each slight movement he made.
“Have you ever had your thighs fucked?”
“Never.”
“Well let me change that for you, darling.”
With that, he rocked his hips against you harshly; the force with which he was pushing you forward made it so that you had to stand on your tiptoes to keep your balance.
“Ahh, fuck, Severus,” you cried.
With each crack of his hips, his dick had rode further up your legs until it connected with your wet cunt, rubbing right against your sensitive nub. He let out a breathy moan. You could feel his legs trembling as he, too, fought to keep his balance.
“Your cunt feels excellent against my length, sweetheart,” he praised you, and you felt a flash of pride as tried to remain standing for him.
His left hand found your tits again, whilst his other instinctively went to your slit. You moaned as he rubbed circles onto your clit, and fucked your thighs at the same time. Your thighs massaged his cock as it pistoned in between them, pulling his foreskin over its head and back again repeatedly.
He stopped, however, very suddenly, pulling away from you completely. Confused at the immediate loss of contact, you turned to face him, only to realise he was shrugging off his trousers and boxers at last.
“Blasted things are tight at my knees,” he muttered. You turned back around for him, but he surprised you by taking your hand in his. “Come on. I would carry you bridal style if I could, but in all honesty, I’m out of strength.”
You followed him, hand-in-hand towards a door at the back of the room which he opened up into his bedroom. It was brighter in here on account of the curtains being open; you had to squint your eyes to adjust to the difference. The green silk sheets of his bed were unmade, and his pillows were unplumped. The potions book he had mentioned earlier lay on a little oak nightstand, opened to the page about spores and sex pollen. Somehow, being in his bedroom made this whole moment so much more intimate.
He giggled as he pushed you onto the bed. He grabbed a pillow and tucked it behind your head as he placed himself between your legs. “You’ve been so helpful thus far, sweetheart. Now I’m going to need you to take my cock in your cunt like a good girl.”
“Yes, professor,” you said cheekily.
“That word sounds electric coming from that perfect little mouth of yours.”
He ran his dick through your soaking folds and plunged into you hard. You almost screamed from the suddenness; with his whole length inside you, it was difficult to adjust to his size. He hissed as he sunk into you. “You’re… tight as fuck,,” he groaned.
His pace was merciless; he had your legs wound tightly around his waist as he pounded into you, filling you up completely. It hurt at the beginning, but when you got used to it, the pleasure was immeasurable. You wished you could linger in that moment with your back arched, salivating as every inch of Severus’ cock slammed deeper inside you.
He moaned deeply, his head down and his eyes tightly shut; you supposed after a full day of extreme fever, relief such as this would feel like a wonderful symphony to him. You don’t know what compelled you, but you reached out to him, and after opening his eyes, he interlaced his own fingers with yours. He pinned your arms against the pillows and leaned down so he could bury himself in your neck.
“Can I cum inside you, angel?” He whispered. His thrusts had grown faster and harder, and you knew a crescendo was coming for both of you. As his hips rolled against yours, he kept hitting that perfect spot and you felt yourself getting incredibly close.
“Please,” you whined.
He lifted his face so you were face-to-face and pressed his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss you had ever received in your life. You moaned into each other's mouths as he jackhammered into your cunt. He hit his high first, breaking the kiss to groan loudly; you felt him spill himself into you, and as he was riding out his own orgasm, you hit yours, too.
“Severus!” You cried, your core tightening around him. He reached his hand down to stroke your clit, helping you ride the wave.
When you were both thoroughly spent, he collapsed in a pile on your left. His chest rose and fell deeply, as though he were finally able to catch a decent breath.
“Feel any better already?” You smirked.
“Much,” he panted. He rolled onto his side and held out his arm, signalling for you to curl into him. You did and he wrapped his toned arms around you, drawing you close to his chest. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck.
“You were incredible,” he said, stroking your hair.
“I don’t know why you were so scared of hurting me, I liked it that way.”
“My body felt strangely… uncooperative,” he said, “maybe it was just the fever, but I was terrified of doing something you disliked and not being able to stop myself. The self-restraint came easy as soon as you first touched me.”
Placing your chin on his chest, you glanced up at him. “I don’t think you have the capacity to hurt me, Severus,” you said.
Resting his forehead against yours, he said, “You know a very different version of me. The Severus you’re currently snuggled up with gained a vast deal more common sense and reason when he saw the ways of the Light than the idiot Severus of the past. He could’ve hurt you, and I can’t reconcile with that side of myself.” You stayed quiet, hoping he’d say more and you were ready to listen with rapt fascination. “You saw me about to cry earlier, didn’t you?”
You weren’t expecting him to ask you that. “Yes,” you murmured.
“That wasn’t from the aches or the fever. It was just at that moment,” he whispered softly, “I realised this is the first time I’ve been touched by another human being in at least ten years.”
“What?” You said, shellshocked.
“I mean it. I have not experienced physical human contact in that long. So when I saw through your thoughts, and saw how you were not just willing to help me out of a sense of obligation to keep me but also because you care so deeply about me, well… I just sort of broke. I hate crying in front of others, so I swallowed it back.”
You swore in that moment you felt your heart crack. You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his warm jaw.
“Thank you, darling,” he sighed. He left a soft kiss at your temple in return. “Don’t worry about me, I’m alright.”
“I don’t know how you can be alright,” you whispered. He squeezed you tightly into him, his hand still stroking your head, when an idea suddenly hit you. “Severus, do you want to continue this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… us.”
He pulled his head back so he could stare into your eyes. There was a cautiousness in his eyes that made you wary of your words.
“It doesn’t have to be a relationship, that’s a big commitment,” you stammered out wildly, “I guess what I’m suggesting is… like… a friends-with-benefits sort of situation?”
“Like casual sex?”
“Yes. I want more of you. And it sounds like you want more of me.”
“I guess it could help both of us as a form of stress relief,” he said slowly. He gave your naked body a once over with his eyes and he smirked. “I wouldn’t mind having a little bit more of you over, let me say that much. ”
“Besides, if I happen to catch the spores from you, I’m going to need someone to help me out,” you winked, before teasing him with, “and I’m not stubborn so I won’t yell at you to get out and delay my possible relief.”
“Oh, ha, ha, very funny. I’ll consider it if you’re nice to me.”
“You are very stubborn, though.”
“I am.”
A few days later, on Sunday, you woke up in your own bed, lathered in your own sweat. It was like you woke up in a pool of lava.
You tried to sit up, but when you did, your arms trembled violently. When your thighs rubbed together, your pussy throbbed desperately, and you let out a small, involuntary moan.
“Fuck sake,” you muttered under your breath.
You managed to clamber out of bed, moaning the whole way and desperately tried not to stick your hands down your shorts; you walked to your beautiful tawny owl in the corner of your room and took her over to your desk, where you scribbled a quick note.
Severus, it happened. I need your help.
You didn’t feel the need to add anything else; he’d know.
You gave it to the owl to hold in her beak and – panting all the while – you led her to the big bedroom window, opened it and let her fly out into the open skies that surrounded Hogwarts in search of the letter’s recipient.
You flopped back on your bed, both horny and exhausted at the same time, trying not to think about how sticky you felt. Fifteen minutes later, your owl returned with another note and dropped it on your chest before she returned to her perch.
You’d never opened something as fast in your life. In the middle of the parchment, in Severus’ small, cramped handwriting, there were three words:
Be right there.