Summary: Kinktober 2025, Day 5 - Husband/Wife kink
Pairings: Severus Snape x f!reader
Warnings/tags: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, MINORS DNI - Soft Severus, thoughts of marriage, Severus gets hot and bothered by someone calling you his wife
A/N: I struggled with naming this one, but overall I’m happy with how it turned out. I had a dream about Severus being married and just couldn’t shake it out, so consider this the result of that. Can either be viewed before or after the war :)
Masterlist
The streets of Hogsmeade were busier than usual for a chill autumn evening. All around you were students with their Hogwarts cloaks, darting from store to store, villagers idly chatting along the sidewalks, and leaves leisurely floating through the gentle breeze. You had convinced Severus to slip away with you, to have an afternoon just to yourselves and away from all the papers that needed grading over the weekend.
It had been a little over three years since you started this relationship with Hogwarts’ great potions master, and while the question of marriage had never been brought up, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it. The thought of Severus as your husband never failed to make you feel giddy with excitement. You wouldn’t dare push Severus towards the thought, though, knowing he’d bring it up whenever he was ready.
You linked your arm with his as you both wandered into The Three Broomsticks, seeking refuge from the chill autumn wind. His black cloak billowed dramatically behind him, as it usually does, before finally resting along his figure once he was out of the cool breeze. Madam Rosmerta acknowledged you both with her usual warm smile. “Ah, Professor Snape! And your lovely wife as well. Welcome back!” she greeted you as she wiped down the bar. “The usual table by the fire?”
Your steps faltered. Wife? You never told her that you were married before. Severus stiffened beside you, his grip on your arm tightening ever so slightly. You glanced up at him, expecting a sharp correction like he would carry out to his students, but he merely nodded curtly. “Yes, that will do.”
Rosmerta hurried off, oblivious, while you slid into your seat at the table across from the brooding professor. As you admired the warmth of the fire, you couldn’t help but notice Severus’s expression. His brows were furrowed, his dark eyes distant in thought.
“Wife?” you teased softly after the inn keeper had delivered you both a drink, nudging his knee under the table. “I’m surprised you didn’t correct her.”
He took a slow sip of his firewhiskey. “It seemed unnecessary. The woman prattles enough without encouragement.”
But there was something in his voice, a warmth beneath the drawl, that made your heart skip a few beats. You studied him, the way the firelight softened the sharp lines of his face, highlighting the stray silver strands in his black hair. “It didn’t bother you?”
He set his glass down with an audible clink. “Should it have?” he asked slowly, his gaze meeting yours. “We’ve been together long enough that assumptions are… inevitable.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you replied, finally taking a sip of your own drink.
—
Severus barely closed the door of chambers before his lips were on yours, his kiss hungry and fierce. His hands pulled you closer, pressing you against him as he mapped the curve of your waist, the lines of your shoulders. In his mind, though, he thought about what it would be like to be married to you. To wake up to you each morning in his bed, to have your laughter echoing through these cold stone walls, a ring shining on your finger as a declaration of his devotion. The thought made him deepen the kiss, a low groan escaping him.
You smiled against his lips, your own hands reaching up to undo the ungodly amount of buttons he had along his robes. “You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” you asked, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “Tell me, my love, what would it be like if we were married?”
He exhaled sharply, his dark eyes meeting your own as he busied himself with the fastenings of your own robes. “You’d be insufferable,” he said, but his tone was fond and tender. “You’d fill my shelves with unnecessary knick-knacks, beg that I leave my papers to come read with you only to wind up talking about my day instead, and overall, you’d be like an annoying bug that wouldn’t leave my office even if the door was left open.”
You laughed softly as he slid your robes off of you. “You’d love every second of it, though.”
He didn’t deny it, instead, he finished undoing the rest of the buttons of his own robes, letting them meet with yours on the stone below. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring your taste, savoring the way your body arched into his.
You guided him back, pressing him down onto the satin sheets of his bed, and he let you. He let your hands slide down his body and settle on his waist. He let you crawl your way over top of him and straddle his hips. He let you tease him by rubbing the fat head of his cock against your clit. And finally, he let you toy with his chest as you sunk down onto him, taking him inch by inch into your wet heat. His hands gripped your hips, gently guiding you as you rode him.
“You’d make such a good husband,” you gasped out, nails clawing for purchase against his skin as he buried himself to the hilt.
He groaned, low and deep in his throat, as his cock throbbed deep inside you. His own nails dug into the flesh of your hips, leaving small crescent marks in their wake.
You teased him by sliding up, stilling when it was just his tip left inside you, before circling your hips down with a breathy moan. “Such a good husband,” you repeated, continuing your teasing. “Letting me have you like this, letting me take care of you like a good little wife.”
A breathless whimper escaped his lips as his hips bucked up to meet your own, hands guiding you to go faster. A loud moan slipped past your lips as he angled himself to go deeper, to press against the bundle of nerves that rested inside you with each desperate thrust. “That’s it,” he cooed, fucking up into you with a precision that left you breathless. “My beautiful wife, taking my cock like you were made for it.”
You swore your heart stopped when he finally called you his wife, heat gathering quickly in your core. You leaned down, bringing him into a sloppy kiss, his tongue clashing with your own. The sounds of your wetness filled the room with each thrust, only adding more fuel to the fire in your belly. “Severus,” you gasped against his lips, hands tangling into his hair and gripping desperately at his shoulder.
“Yes, wife?” he hummed, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke, as if he knew the effect that one word had on you. Turns out, he did, for in the next moment he guided your hips as you came around him with a cry of his name. “That’s it, good girl,” he coaxed, gently guiding you through your orgasm as he picked up the pace, now chasing his own high as his thrusts grew sloppy. “You’re going to be a good little wife and let me fill you, yes?” he asked, titling your head up to meet his gaze, his aching cock throbbing against your pulsating walls.
You nodded, too blissed out to respond, but that was all he needed. He spilled into you, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go, a strained whine escaping from his lips. For a moment, you both stayed like that, joined together and breathless, basking in the afterglow. His hands rubbed soothing circles into your hips, before he pulled you up for another kiss, slow, sensual, but just as passionate.
“You did so good,” he praised, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Gently, he slipped out of you, maneuvering you to rest beside him on the sheets. As if on instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair, which was now tangled as well as greasy, but you didn’t mind in the slightest.
“You treat me so well, my dear, my sweet husband” you hummed contentedly, smiling down at him as you pulled him in closer. Severus sighed, relaxing into you and your touch. Perhaps the idea of marriage would be coming sooner than he had thought, because for once in his life, he finally felt cared for, loved, and, dare he say it, happy.
Summary: In his obsessive urge to protect you, Severus has refrained from touching you for weeks. Now, in your seventh month of pregnancy, doubt coils in your chest, fearing that your physical changes no longer stir his appetite.
AN: I'm back! Been working on a Lucius smut but haven't finished it yet— Enjoy this
Find it on AO3
Warnings: Smut, Pregnancy, Body Worship, Eating Out, Tender, Emotional, Soft-Rough
3,1k words
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Sharing quarters at the castle with Severus Snape had once sounded like a temporary arrangement.
"Only while the war lasts," he had promised you, his voice rough, but his eyes full of an anxiety he made no effort to hide from you.
And you, with your growing belly and your almost childlike need to feel protected, hadn't had the will to argue much.
Now, Hogwarts had once again become your home. But the physical closeness you shared here hadn't brought the intimacy you had hoped for.
In truth, if you were honest with yourself, you couldn't even remember the last time Severus had truly touched you.
It had been weeks —too many— since his hands had roamed your body with the urgency you so desperately craved.
Though his gestures remained protective, attentive even, his eyes seemed to carefully avoid yours whenever your changing, prominently sensual curves intruded into his line of sight.
Despite being well into your third trimester, you clung to teaching classes as if they were a lifeline, while Severus —and half your colleagues— insisted, with growing impatience, that you should be dedicating your days solely to yourself and the baby. But you were stubborn. You had always been.
Now, wrapped in a silk robe that outlined every new inch of your body —the wider hips, the heavy breasts, the firm, rounded belly— you crossed the bedroom toward the bed, foolishly hoping, maybe, to catch his eye.
He didn’t lift his gaze.
Seated in his usual armchair, with a heavy tome on dark magic resting across his lap, Severus seemed utterly engrossed in his reading. His eyes barely moved. Your heart, tightened with every step you took. When had it become so hard just to get him to look at you?
On a painful, impulsive whim, you moved closer. From behind the chair, you tilted your head, and then you saw it.
Tucked between the open pages of the large book, Severus was hiding a smaller, much more modest volume. One that had nothing to do with dark magic. One filled with meticulous notes about protective charms for newborns. Safe potions during pregnancy.
And suddenly, the heavy knot in your chest twisted into something else entirely. You had to admit it was adorable, even as the bittersweet ache remained.
Leaning over the back of the armchair, you slipped your arms around him, brushing your nose along the line of his neck before pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.
Severus startled, slamming the heavy tome shut, the sound echoing sharply against the stone walls.
"You don't have to hide what you're really reading..." you whispered against his ear, offering him a small, trembling smile —something caught between tenderness and sadness.
He let out a huff, loaded with irritation. Not at you, never at you. Irritation at himself, perhaps. For letting himself be caught, for being so transparent with you.
Without a word, with a kind of reverent patience, he took your wrists in his long hands and gently drew you toward him.
Guiding you firmly, he settled you onto his lap, handling your weight as if you were made of glass.
The warmth of his body beneath yours, the unmistakable scent of him —it was home to you. And lately, you had felt it so painfully distant.
One of his hands, large, rough, and warm, instinctively came to rest on your swollen belly.
He began to caress it in slow circles, his thumb tracing lazy paths over the fine silk of your robe. "You should stop teaching already," he murmured, his voice low, rasping, almost defeated. "You should be thinking only of... the two of you."
It was so strange to hear him speak like that, without his usual armor. For a moment, you simply surrendered to the rhythm of his caress, to that rare, precious intimacy.
A sudden dampness on the silk caught his attention before it caught yours.
Severus frowned slightly —not in disgust, but in concentration— and brought his fingers to the small damp spot blooming over your chest.
He touched the wet fabric with an unusual gentleness, almost reverent, like someone handling something sacred they didn’t fully understand.
His fingers hovered there for a breathless moment, suspended between surprise and a raw, almost childlike curiosity.
It was then that you, trapped in the current of your own insecurities, shifted away from his lap.
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying somehow to shield yourself, and averted your gaze, refusing to meet his.
Before you could stop yourself, the words burst out, burning in your throat:
"I don't want to give you... another reason not to want me."
Your voice barely cracked, no louder than a whisper, yet it carried more weight than any scream.Your eyes filled with tears, though you stayed proud, rigid, as if it didn’t matter, as if you didn’t care.
You turned toward the bed, your steps almost defiant, your back stiff.
But Severus didn’t hesitate for a second.
He rose from his chair, the book forgotten, crossing the space between you in only a few long strides. His hand caught yours before you could climb into bed. It wasn’t a pull, just his fingers wrapping warmly, firmly around your wrist.
"Don't ever say that again," he murmured, his voice low, rough, filled with something that made you shiver to your bones.
He pulled you gently, turning you to face him. There was no rush, no forcefulness .Only his gaze, dark and intense, locking onto yours —and you felt stripped bare under it.
His hands slid upward, releasing your wrist to frame your face. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, brushing them tenderly, as if trying to wipe away the tears before they could fall.
"You are beautiful," he said, as if it were an undeniable, absolute truth.
The tenderness of his words, the restrained worship in his gaze, struck hard against the wall of insecurity you had built inside yourself.
Something within you cracked, dangerously close to breaking. Severus leaned in then, his forehead resting against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own.
"All of you," he whispered. "Every change, every new part of you... you have no idea how much I want you, how much I've fought it."
His nose brushed yours in a gesture so small, so intimate, your knees almost buckled.
His hands slid down, gliding over your arms, your fuller hips, and finally came to rest, reverently, over the generous curve of your belly.
He held you like that, breathing you in, as if every beat of your heart was the most precious thing he had ever known.
His hands, still firm on your hips, trembled ever so slightly as he lifted his gaze to you.
A moment of silence stretched between you, so thick you could almost hear your own heart pounding against it.
With meticulous slowness, his fingers sought the sash that held your silk robe closed.
He looked at you, asking permission without words.
And when you didn’t resist, he pulled the ribbon loose with a careful tug. The fabric parted, not fully, but enough to expose your torso, your full, heavy breasts.
The lingering trace of dampness still visible on one of them, the most intimate evidence of the life growing inside you.
Severus let out a low sound, something between a sigh and a groan. It wasn't unchecked lust. It was wonder. Pure fascination.
His hands, warm and rough, traveled slowly upward, caressing your shoulders, your arms —every new, sensitive inch of your skin.
He paused at the curve of your neck, the line of your collarbones, as if he were committing every part of you to memory.
He leaned in then, brushing you with his lips —not urgent kisses, but patient touches.
A kiss in the hollow of your throat.
Another on the sharp bone of your shoulder.
Another, trembling slightly, just above one of your breasts.
"You are perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice heavy with a reverence that made your lungs seize.
His fingers ventured lower, tracing the line beneath your breasts with no hurry, like a man cradling something too precious to risk harming.
Everything in him screamed desire, but also something deeper —adoration.
You felt precious. For the first time in weeks.
His large, steady hands continued gliding over you, exploring the new fullness of your body without rush, without judgment.
His thumbs brushed along the sides of your breasts, then down to the generous curve of your belly, massaging in slow, wide circles —as if he wanted to soothe your child even as he worshiped you.
His mouth followed the path his hands had traced earlier, his nose nuzzling the lush swell of your breast.
With inhuman patience, Severus tilted his head and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the damp skin of your breast. The heat of his mouth against you contrasted sharply with the cool silk still clinging to your hips, and a trembling sigh escaped your lips before you could hold it back.
He took your nipple into his mouth, closing his lips around it with wet, reverent warmth. You gasped softly, your fingers tangling in his messy hair, holding on to him.
Severus growled low in his throat, a sound almost primal, at feeling you respond so openly under his touch.
He straightened just enough to meet your eyes, his lips shining slightly, his breath ragged.
With patient hands, he slid the rest of the robe off your body, letting it pool at your feet.
He looked at you then, standing naked before him —your belly full with life, your breasts heavy, your skin taut and achingly sensitive.
And instead of averting his gaze, Severus devoured you with it —every new curve, every mark, every part of you that now existed to carry the miracle of his child.
With a firm gesture, he took your hands, placed them on his shoulders, and then lifted you easily, as if you weighed nothing at all, laying you down with infinite gentleness on the bed.
He leaned over you, sliding naturally between your legs, resting his weight carefully to your side.
His hands never stopped moving —caressing your belly, your sides, your thighs— as if he couldn’t decide where to start, as if he needed to map every part of you anew.
And his mouth...
His mouth returned to your skin, planting open, wet, hungry kisses along your breasts, your stomach, the edges of your hips.
His lips traveled even lower, leaving a wet trail down the lower curve of your belly.
His hands slid to your thighs, parting them with firm but careful insistence —not rough, not demanding— simply inevitable, as if he had waited too long to dare touch you.
His breath washed over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and a fragile, trembling moan tore from your throat.
Severus didn’t rush.
Instead of devouring you hungrily, he looked up at you, his black eyes gleaming under the messy curtain of his hair.
Waiting. Asking without words.
You, trembling, lifted a hand to his cheek, caressing the roughness of his skin. It was all the answer he needed.
With a reverence almost religious, he lowered his mouth to you. His tongue slid first, soft and slow, between your swollen folds, exploring you, savoring you.
You arched your back, a high, broken moan shattering the stillness of the bedroom.
Severus growled low against you, the vibration rumbling through your flesh, and he gripped your thighs firmly, holding you open while he lazily circled your clit with devastating patience.
His movements were constant, meticulous, designed to consume you slowly, to show you —without needing a single word— how much he wanted you, how much he worshiped you in every phase, through every change.
He kissed you there as he had kissed your belly, your breasts —with hunger, but also with tenderness.
There was no rush. There was no need for anything except you. You in his mouth, you in his hands.
When your hips began moving against his mouth, when your moans became uncontrollable, Severus slipped two fingers inside you with exquisite care, slow and steady, filling you gradually as his tongue kept dancing over you.
Your body, so sensitive, so alive, responded with violent sweetness.
The orgasm overtook you without warning, without permission, ripping broken cries from your throat that barely sounded like your own.
Your hands clutched at his hair, his shoulders, anything you could reach, as if afraid you might fall apart without him anchoring you.
And Severus didn’t move away.
He kept licking, kissing, holding you through the shudders of your climax, only lifting his head when you finally lay trembling beneath him, soft moans slipping from your lips, shattered and adored beyond words.
Only then did he lift his face to you.
His face was undone with desire.
He slid over you slowly, propping himself up on his elbows so as not to crush you, adjusting his body alongside yours so as not to put pressure on your belly, yet still maintaining the desperate closeness you both craved.
His erection, hard and throbbing, brushed your thigh as he settled in, trembling slightly at the contact.
But he waited.
He left the last word to you.
"May I...?" he whispered, hoarse, his voice almost breaking with restraint.
You nodded, lifting a hand to stroke his chest —a small gesture of tenderness, trust, longing.
Severus exhaled sharply, as if you had torn the weight of the world from his shoulders, and wrapped you in his arms.
He shifted to his side, pulling your back against his chest, guiding you until your thigh rested over his hip, opening you to him with infinite care.
His hand trembled slightly as he lowered it between you, guiding himself, searching for the heat he had missed so desperately.
When he found you—wet, soft, waiting—he let out a low, ragged groan. A sound that vibrated through your skin even before he began.
He entered you slowly. So slowly.
As if he couldn’t believe he truly had you like this: open for him, in this state.
You felt every inch of his hardness pressing into you, every fiber of your body stretching to receive him.
Your belly tightening softly, your chest heaving, a broken sob escaping your throat before you could even recognize it.
He paused for a fraction of a second, buried fully inside you, gasping into your ear. The heat of his breath, the tremble of his muscles, everything enveloped you, claimed you.
And then he began to move.
At first, his thrusts were long, deep, calculated.
You felt so full of him, invaded in the sweetest, heaviest way, as if your body had been made only for him.
But it didn’t take long for his control to unravel.
The hunger he had bottled up for weeks, that passion he had repressed out of fear of hurting you, slipped to the surface.
His rhythm grew more insistent, less perfect, more human.
His large hand cradled your belly, as if to remind himself of your fragility... but his hips couldn't help but quicken, slamming against you with a need barely held in check.
"Merlin..." he murmured against your ear, his voice raw, lost. "I missed you."
The low rumble of his voice, vibrating through you, almost made you cry.
You felt ablaze.
Every friction of his body within yours stoked hidden embers inside you, each movement of his pelvis against your rear sending electric waves up your spine.
The heat between your legs was unbearable, slippery, overflowing, each of Severus' thrusts tearing moans from you you no longer tried to contain.
The sensation of his hot, hard flesh sliding against your walls, filling you with every push, was overwhelming.
The pressure inside you built and built, a cruel promise holding you suspended between pleasure and desperation.
Severus seemed desperate not to let you go.
He clutched you against him, his hand alternating between your belly, your thigh, drawing you harder against him, setting a rhythm he could no longer pretend to control.
He fucked you in long, heavy strokes, each thrust dragging a moan from your lips.
Didn't give you space to think or breathe. Only to feel.
"So fucking beautiful..." he rasped into your ear, his hand sliding to cup your heavy breast, his thumb teasing the sensitive, leaking nipple. "Mine. Every part of you..."
You whimpered at the rough squeeze, at the obscene wetness slicking your thighs, at the pressure building unbearably inside you.
Your name fell from his lips like a prayer as his pelvis slammed into you in erratic, deeper thrusts.
His hand found your throat, not choking, just holding —a possessive, grounding weight that had you keening his name.
You surrendered to the brutal, sweet rhythm of his hips, to the relentless glide of his hot flesh, to the torrent of emotions and sensations that drowned you.
Your body spasmed around him, heat bursting through your core as the orgasm tore you apart. You screamed with pleasure as you came, tears streaming from your tightly shut eyes, your legs trembling uncontrollably.
You felt his body convulse behind you just seconds later, a guttural growl tearing from his throat as he spilled inside you, clutching you with all the desperate love he could offer.
And even after emptying himself, even after groaning your name against your sweaty skin, he didn’t pull away.
He held you tighter.
He covered you with his body as if he could shield you from everything.
As you both trembled, trapped in that moment, Severus kissed the back of your neck—once, twice, a thousand times—murmuring words you could barely hear.
Eventually, as your breathing slowed and the tremors faded from your limbs, Severus shifted just enough to see your face.
He brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
"You are everything," he whispered, the words breaking against your skin.
You turned your head slightly, finding his mouth in the softest of kisses, one that tasted of salt and love and everything you had both survived to reach this moment.
Held tightly against him, you let yourself fall—completely, irrevocably—into the arms of the only man who had ever truly seen you.
A/N: {i made you guys wait MONTHS for this and i'm still getting comments about a part two so here u go xox}
18+ minors dni
rating/tags: explicit, smut, soft smut, gentledomfem!reader, sub!snape, snapes first time, praise, lil bit of aftercare shown, insecurity, lil angst, sev is touch starved af
song: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths
PART ONE
MASTERLIST
It had been weeks since Severus... Indulged.
In those weeks, he couldn't bear to even spare the Herbology professor a passing glance. Not in the hallways between classes, not at the professors table. Nowhere in the Castle or hell, nowhere on God's green Earth, would Severus look that woman in the eye ever again.
He pretended not to notice the way she'd begun to look at him with concern, or even worse, with disapointment, as the weeks progressed. But hidden deep down, he knew she was confused and hurt by his sudden change in behaviour.
But why wouldn't she be hurt? They had gone from conversing nearly every single day, something Severus had done with no one, to not talking at all. Not only that but he had even been brushing her off, blatantly ignoring her. She used to bring him small gifts, offerings almost; and he would invite her into his office under the guise of strictly professional meetings. Brew her tea out of politeness, surely nothing more. But lately, he had been sending her away at the door. Closing it in her face. Shutting her out.
But the truth was, he just couldn't look at her.
Severus spent that night the same he had for the past several weeks, alone in his office, buried in papers, trying desperetly to ignore the storm of feelings brewing inside him.
However, a knock sounded at the door.
Peeking through his long, black hair with repressed hope, he spoke: "Enter."
When she entered, Severus didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.
There she was, in that damnable shade of yellow that for reasons unknown to him had begun to plague his dreams. Standing almost nervously, she closed the door behind her and stepped only a few feet forward into his office.
"Good evening, Severus." The way she spoke was soft, timid but somehow assured at the same time.
Severus gaze dropped back down to his papers, as if he could even focus on them with her standing right there.
"How can I help you, Professor." He spoke, voice cold.
The silence that followed was defeaning. Only the gentle bubbling from various cauldrons across the office filled the room.
"I came to apologize."
It was then that Severus looked at her, really looked at her. She was fidgeting with her fingers, holding them in front of that yellow dress, looking at him with a truly apologetic expression. Her eyes, which he had grown so accustomed to looking up at him brightly, now looked tired and sad, staring across at him from the stiff room.
Severus stared at her for a minute, as if commiting every detail of her face to memory as remedy for what had occured.
She took that as her cue to speak, "Severus. I think I upset you, a few weeks ago. I was trying to be kind.. And when I called you a friend, I meant it-"
Severus looked away. She stepped closer.
"But I didn't mean to upset you. And Severus, frankly, I don't regret it. I do consider you my-"
"Stop," Severus murmered, his gaze cast on the papers in front of him.
"Friend. You are my friend. And I'm sorry that upsets you for some reason. I'm sorry the idea of being friends with me is so horrible that you can't find it in yourself to speak to me for weeks-"
"Stop." Severus murmered, a little firmer this time, his gaze remaining unmoved.
"No you shut up and listen." She snapped.
And shut the fuck up he did.
Severus head snapped up, staring at her in plain disbelief. She raised her voice. Actually raised her voice.
Why isn't he furious? Why isn't he yelling back? Why are his pants tig-
She stepped forward, the look on her face both pained and frustrated. "Severus. You are my friend. You might very well be my best friend. And I know that you might not even like me very much, but I happen to like you. So why can't you just tell me what about me is so intolerable that you push me away so hard after I call you a friend?" She spoke, her voice lower now, but still firm.
Severus hesitated, opened his mouth, closed it again.
What could he say?
But she only continued to look at him with that expectant expression on her face. She wanted an explanation he couldn't give her. But he was backed into a corner, for the first time in years, no control in his hands. No power. Just... her.
He swallowed, spoke lowly: "You are not intolerable..."
She blinked, now even more confused.
He sighed, reluctantly realising he must elaborate, "Only you are."
When he met her gaze again, he watched as her expression shifted, changing from confused to... understanding?
She blinked, stepped forward again, closer to the desk where he sat. Her eyes widened, lips parted, then closed again.
And then she said possibly the worst thing she could have: "You're frightened."
Severus clenched his jaw, stood up from his chair at once, now towering over her.
Control. He needed control. "I am not a coward."
Something shifted in her again, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she stepped forward, now directly in front of the desk across from him. For a moment, Severus considered backing up, then immediately scolded himself.
She whispered: "You aren't?"
Severus clenched his jaw, straightening his back. "You know I am not."
Her head cocked as she rounded the table, walking closer to him. Without even comprehending it, he slowly began moving back, the action unknown to him until the back of his head hit the wall.
She looked up at him, smirking almost, only inches away from him now. Like a predator toying with its meal, she gazed at him with wicked amusement.
"Severus," she started, almost teasingly.
His breath hitched.
"Severus, did I ever tell you, how proud I am of you for that that Polyjuice potion you brewed a few weeks ago?
His stomach flipped, cheeks flushing crimson without his permission. Severus opened his mouth, but she spoke again.
"That must have been... truly difficult. Really. I heard those potions take weeks. But you did, so well. In fact, no one can do it as good as you can." The smirk on her face was growing now as she stepped impossibly closer.
Breathe. He couldn't. Breathe.
How. Do. I. Breathe.
He didn't realise he was practically panting until he felt his own breath against her lips. She looked up at him, having to crane her neck to do so. "Is that it, Severus?" She whispered. "Is it my friendship that scares you so much? Or is it my praise?
He stopped breathing.
Her lips grazed his, whispered: "Or is it my touch?
At the same time, her fingertips began to trail up his arm, her touch feather light. At this, Severus found his breath, gasping slightly, looking down at her with his mask completely fallen. For the first time in his life, Severus allowed himself to be completely powerless at the hands of another. While others had controlled his entire life, Dumbledore, Voldemort, this was different. This was... welcome.
He allowed her to put her hands on his chest. He allowed her to back her up against the wall even further. He allowed her to crash her lips against his own.
The sound that came from his lips as they met hers was practically a whimper. He felt his face flush and the growing smirk on her own lips as they continued their kiss.
Her movements, the way her fingers tangled in his hair, the way she bit and flicked her tongue against his. She was as hungry as he was. Starved.
Panting, she pulled away and looked up at the mess he had become. His pale skin flushed, hair a mess, chest rising and falling rapidly as his lips parted, searching and failing to find the words.
She whispered, finding them for him. "Do you want this, Severus."
He stuttered, "t-this?"
Her lips grazed his neck and his legs buckled. "Me. Severus do you want me?"
She pulled back then, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitance or reject. Instead, she found only desire and the fear of it. The understanding that the fear, the cowardice, he'd exhibited had only been derived out of desire.
Severus nodded, murmered, surprising himself with how steady his voice sounded "I do."
She smiled softly, hummed as if the answer had pleased her greatly. "Sit," She murmered against his ear.
Severus found himself obeying quicker than he'd like to admit. His hands found the seat of his arm chair as he sat down, using all his strength not to shake as he did so.
She stood directly in front of him, her long fingers working at the buttons of her yellow dress, un-doing them.
He swallowed.
"Severus Snape," She murmered, continuing with her buttons, "Potions master. Veteran of the first Wizarding War. Looked straight into the eyes of Voldemort and lied to him. And who am I?" She paused with her buttons, looking up at him, "The newest Herbology professor? Half your age? A foot shorter than you? Do I frighten you, Professor."
His breath hitched as she slid the dress off, standing before him in only her undergarments, a black bra and panties. It shocked him, the image of both her near naked body and the colour of her underwear. Of what was really hiding underneath that insufferable colour of yellow. Even in those fantasies, the ones with his hands deep in his trousers, even then he didn't come close to picturing... this.
Her fingers reached back, unclasped the bra and it fell to the floor at his feet. His eyes wide, glued in place, he couldn't look away if the Dark Lord himself cast the imperiatus curse.
"Professor," She murmered, "Do I frighten you."
"Yes," The words fell from his lips in a shaky breath.
She fell to her knees, looking up at him with her hands on his thighs.
"But you're being so brave, Severus. Aren't you?" She murmered, placing a small kiss on his knee.
He gasped, nearly jolted, hands gripping the armrest so tight his knuckled turned white.
I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm dead. Maybe I actually died and this is heaven and at some great mistake I'm here instead of down-
There.
She kissed up his thigh, relising in each gasp as she did.
Severus panted, looked down at her as her hands found the buckle of his belt.
"W-wait," he said suddenly, voice shaky.
She stopped her movements immediately, looking up at him.
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "If you.. do that... I won't... I can't.."
She spoke softly, "You won't last?"
He swallowed what remained of his pride, met her dark gaze. "Yes."
He expected her to laugh, or maybe to be annoyed, frustrated. Instead she nodded, still holding that soft look on her face as she stood again, looking down at him in the chair.
"I'll last long enough for the both of us then." She said softly, dipping her fingers into her panties and pullling them down to her ankles, kicking them to the side.
Severus could have died right then and there. His eyes widened, jaw weak, as he looked at her, fully naked before him.
Softly, she spoke again, "Have you ever touched a woman?"
He swallowed, shook his head.
"Would you like to?"
He nodded.
She took his hands then, saying nothing of the slight tremor of them and placed them gently on her hips. Whispered, "There... Just like that. That's it."
His breath hitched. She was so much, softer, warmer, than he'd imagined. Even through the callosus on his fingers, he could feel how soft she was. Like a balm on aching skin..
He looked up at her, suddenly very aware his hands were on her and unmoving, yet unsure of what to do.
Her smile was gentle. "There you go. Touch whereever you'd like Severus."
Severus eyes raked over her naked body, commiting it to memory in case he really were about to wake up. He'd dreamt of this how many times, been tortured by the idea of it. But with his hands, physically, on her.... He wanted to touch everywhere.
He began to move them, hesitantly, gentle touching her as though she might break under the weight of his fingertips. When his hands found her breasts, her lips parted, his own breath hitching as though he was recieving her pleasure.
She watched, gaze soft, as he began to hesitantly caress and feel her. When his thumb traced over her nipple she sighed softly, causing Severus's breath to immediately hitch.
His gaze alternating between her breasts and her face, Severus allowed his hands to move on their own accord, trailing down her rib cage. His fingers ghosted over each bone, patiently tracing each bone. They continued, moving down her stomach, past her navel, to her hips.
"Do you want my help?" In any other scenario Severus would have scoffed, maybe even snapped. An offensive, degrading question.
But the word that fell from his lips was "Yes."
So she did. Gently, she took his right hand and guided it between her legs.
Severus gasped softly, staring at his hand where it met her, unmoving.
"Explore, Severus," She murmered, "It's alright."
He swallowed, allowing his fingers to tentatively brush against her wet folds.
She's so.. Warm.
He racked his brain, trying desperately to remember his school days. He'd been tortured nightly by hearing all about Lucius conquests, late at night in the dorms. He tried to remember what he'd said.. How he'd pleasured them..
I never thought I'd wish I'd paid more attention to Lucius sex tales.
He remembered one thing though. Trailing up his middle finger, he carefully pressed it against the apex of her core, at the very top. She gasped, and his head snapped up to her face.
"Are you hurt?" He whispered, stomach dropping.
She smiled, laughed breathlessly. "No, Severus. That felt good."
Oh.
Oh.
He looked back down at her, carefully, unsurely, began to move his middle finger in soft circles on her clit.
She gasped, gripped her shoulder, balencing herself on him and he nearly bit back a moan.
She was gasping for him. Moaning for him. He was bringing her pleasure, he was-
"So good..." She moaned, tilting her head back, "Fuck Severus... That feels so good..."
He exhaled shakily, picking up the pace just a little bit and watching her reaction as her hips bucked slightly forward. With that, he pressed his finger a little harder.
The sound that left her lips couldn't have been compared to any of his dreams.
She moaned, panting, grinding slightly against his hand while he worked her until she suddenly stopped and looked down at him, flushed.
"Switch places with me." She said.
Severus began to move before he asked why. Kneeling down before her now as she sat in the chair, he looked up, finding his face eye level with her dripping cunt.
"Do you want to taste me?" She whispered, reaching down to trail one of her hands through his black strands of hair.
He could have came right then and there but he closed his eyes, steadying himself until he felt ready enough to look up at her, at which point he nodded.
He pushed her legs gently to the side as if frightened he might hurt her. Inching forward, he looked up at her.
"Kiss up my thighs first," she whispered, "tease me a little."
Severus obeyed, leaving gentle, soft kisses on her inner thigh. Fuck. It was the first time he'd ever kissed a womans body. And he was on his knees. His bloody knees. In his office. For a woman half his age.
Still, he kissed gently, sucking softly and licking up her thigh. He wasn't exactly sure where this sudden knowledge or confidence was coming from. It was as though he was running on autopilot, straight instinct.
He stopped just in front of it, looked up at her through his eyelashes and found she was breathing just as heavily as he was. She nodded.
With that, Severus gave a small lick, breath hitching as she gasped and gripped the armrests beside his head. Again. A small lick.
The groan that left his throat surprised even him.
She tasted... Addictive.
Something inside him snapped and he attatched himself to her, licking and sucking messily at her. He wasn't sure what he was doing, other than to focus on that same particular spot from before that seemed to make her gasp, and that certainly seemed to do the trick.
She arched her back, gasping as her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Severus," She moaned. It took all of his will to focus, continuing to eat her out feverishly despite the painful strain in his trousers. He wanted to reach down and palm himself right there, but stopped out of fear of this finishing too early.
He flicked his tongue across that spot again. Her back arched. Again, she moaned his name.
Again. Again. Again.
Studying her responses, her gasps, her body like he was studying for the most important exam of his life. He panted against her, his grip on her thighs tightening as he continued flicking his tongue in that way.
She tossed her head back in pleasure and Severus watched every moment of it as she squirmed and panted. Her face contorted in bliss, she panted out his name.
"Severus fuck... That feels so fucking good..."
He moaned, dipped his tongue into her entrance and moaned as she did.
"Yes.." She panted, "You're doing so well... Just like that.. Fuck you make me feel so good."
Severus felt dizzy as he began flicking his tongue again, alternating between long and small strokes, trying to best decipher which she liked the best.
When he found her body jerking more at the quick, rough licks, he licked his way back up to that particular spot and began doing so in quick, rapid succession.
A moan tore from her lips, the loudest one yet as she gripped his hair. Severus whimpered, latching onto her, sucking and flicking his tongue across her desperately.
Her thighs began to shake around his head, her breath coming in quick pants.
Was she...
"Close," She moaned. "Fuck Severus, you're going to make me cum."
He moaned, nodded against her, continued with even more urgency.
He needed it. Needed to make her feel good, for her to cum. For her to cum on his tongue. Needed to taste it. How her release felt when it was him who was drawing it out of her. He needed the satisfaction, the pride.
He gripped her thighs a little tighter, hummed.
She gripped a fistful of his hair even tighter as she grinded against his face, desperately chasing her release.
"Severus fuck.... Like that, like that... Don't stop.."
He would never stop. He could stay here like this all day if she wanted him to. If she kept saying those words to him, kept making those sounds.
She whimpered and shook, and Severus didn't need to know much about sex to know she was cumming. He continued lapping at her until she was done shaking and whimpering, until her breath began to come out in slower pants. Only then did he pull away, chin and lips glistening as he looked up at her with clouded eyes.
She panted, catching her breath and released his hair from her grip.
"Fuck.." She gasped. "Fast learner."
He smirked ever so slightly, almost pridefully, his grip lessening on her thighs as he absent mindedly tracing small circles over her hips and thighs.
"That was," he started, "you're... you're beautiful."
She smiled, still panting, as she tiled his chin up to look at her as she stood.
"Get in the chair." She murmered.
And once again, Severus found himself complying.
When he was in the seat, his hands found the armests as she stood between his legs. Her hands made quick work of his zipper, undoing it and pulling his pants down only slightly.
Severus's breath hitched. Suddenly self concious of everything. He didn't expect this... What if she didn't like the look of him? What if she was disgusted? Worse, what if she laughed?
He watched, frozen, as the corners of her lips didn't turn up into a smirk as she pulled him out. Instead, her tongue darted across her lips, exhaling heavily as she held him in her hand.
"You're beautiful," She murmered.
Severus felt dizzy. Her hand, she was touching him. Touching him. There. Calling him beautiful. There was no malice in her voice, no surpressed laughter, no mocking tone. Only honesty... And need.
He looked up at her, almost vulnerably, his breath coming in quick pants as she stroked him. Her hand was smaller than his, softer, warmer. If she kept up with this... he wouldn't last.
As if she knew, she straddled him, hips hovering just above his. With a gentle hum, she tucked his sweaty hair behind his ear. "Do you want this?" She whispered.
Severus could have said no. He could have shook his head and he sensed she would respect it. But he also knew he couldn't... Wouldn't forgive himself he denied himself any more pleasure. Especially from her.
With a shaky breath, he whispered: "Please."
A soft smile and a gentle kiss on his forehead, she sunk down slowly on him.
The gasp that flew from Severus's mouth shocked them both. His hands flew to her waist, holding her in place when she had sunk down on his entire length.
Holy. Shit.
She was warm. And wet. And tight. And beautiful.
He was breathing even heavier now, his fingers digging into her hips as he maintained eye contact. For once, when he looked at her, for the first time in weeks, he let his guard fully down. Perhaps that was the first time he'd done that in his life, allowed someone to truly look into his eyes and find some truth behind them.
She held his gaze gently, as though she were holding something delicate, sacred. "Severus," She whispered, "It's okay. You're okay."
That seemed to break something in him, he swallowed, nearly whimpered. "Please..." He whispered.
She didn't make him say anything more. She knew what he needed. Her hips began to move, gently, slowly at first; rising up and down in slow, fluid motions.
Severus's legs shook, his breath hitched.
Merlin. He could die now and be perfectly happy.
Then, she moaned softly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his neck, planting soft, gentle kisses as she continued to ride him.
It was too much. Her kissing, her moans... The feel of her hands in his hair and rubbing his back... The feel of her tightening around him.
He panted, his own hands gripping impossibly tighter on her hips as she began to move faster, bucking her hips against his.
The moan that flew from his mouth was obscene. Loud, deep. He moaned her first name, saying it out loud for the first time with a desperate edge to it he was too far gone to be embarassed about.
It only seemed to spur her on. Moving faster now, she bounced on him, kissing his neck, whispering in his ear. "Fuck Severus, you're so big," She murmered, "Feels so good."
He panted, eyes squeezed shut. Any sembelence, any last ounce of control fled him as he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, his head leaning back against the chair as she rode with a fierce intensity.
"You're so handsome like this Severus... All needy for me," She whispered, her breath hot against his neck as she panted.
His hips jerked, rising impatiently to meet hers as shame completely abandoned him. "Pl-please... I.. I can't.."
She hummed against him, not slowing down. "I know baby. Do I feel good?"
The nickname alone could have made him cum. He nodded desperately, his hands shaking against her hips, head thrown back in shamless pleasure. "T-too good... I.."
"Shhh," She murmered, grinding against him even faster, "I've got you baby. Let go for me."
If he was thinking clearly, he might have considered pulling out. Or in the very least asking where he should cum. But in that moment, sweaty and dazed, her naked body on top of him, riding and praising him.. His mind only echoed her name.
Shaking, he tilted his head foreward, resting it against her shoulder as if he needed the support. The tightening in his lower abdomen grew and with small, quick whimpers, he came into her, his hips jerking and stuttering.
She hummed, panting as she slowed down, kissing up his neck to his cheek.
For what felt like an eternity, Severus stayed completely still, leaned against her, catching his breath. He felt as though he were floating. Half out of his body, half in it. As though he were in a dream. No potion could brew this. No spell could conjure it. Only her.
She kissed his cheek one last time before rising off him. He hissed in sensitivity as she slowly got off, tucked him gently into his boxers, leaving his pants unzipped.
Severus panted. The absence of her touch seemed to jolt him from the daze and he suddenly became very aware of what they had done, what he had allowed himself to do.
He couldn't bring himself to look at her.
"I'm sorry," He panted, the words sounding weak, "I'm sorry-"
He wanted to continue, but she tilted his chin up and forced his gaze back on her. On her face there was no disgust. No regret. Only a gentle expression he couldn't quite place.
And then she kissed him.
It wasn't like earlier. Not a hungry, passionate, needy kiss. It was soft, gentle, careful. Her lips grazed his delicately before she pulled back and met his widened eyes.
"That was incredible," She whispered.
His stomach flipped again but he remained still.
She straddled him again, though once again in a completely different nature. Her weight resting gently on him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Severus blinked. Blinked again. He didn't realise he was crying until he felt the tears against her hair as she hugged him.
For awhile, they sat there in silence. She rubbed his back, rubbing in small circles and playing with his hair. She kissed his cheek and assured him that she enjoyed it, asking him if he did as well.
He did. He so did. And he didn't fully understand why he was so overwhelmed, so emotional. But so much was happening all at once. He'd had sex for the first time with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, pleasure, lust.... love.... These feelings were foreign to him. Believed for so long to be out of his reach.
And all of a sudden they were all in his hands.
They stayed like that for awhile. Her hands gently massaging as she whispered assurances in his ear. When she finally pulled back, she looked at his glossy eyes and smiled softly.
"Can you stop avoiding me now, please?" She said, smirking.
He exhaled shakily, nodded. For a moment he looked at her and then felt a small smile tugging against the corner of his lips. He allowed it.
"I will.. Try." He spoke at last.
She kissed his forehead again, whispered against it. "Thank you."
Severus sighed again, melted in to her touch and her whispers. For once... Maybe he could allow himself the liberty of pleasure. Maybe he could get used to the feeling of her. He wasn't sure that after tonight he could ever go back to an existence without her touch. If he had gone his life without it, perhaps he could've. But to have had it and to lose it again...
"Stay," Severus whispered. "Please."
The look in her eyes when he met her gaze was soft. She nodded, trailing her fingers up and down his arms as she spoke, "I'm staying."
~
gang im gonna be completely honest i wrote this at about 1 am, high as a kite after watching deathly hollows pt 2 and crying at snapes death. i barely edited this thing. so if it sucks im sorry but everyone in my inbox is begging for sub snape and i am a listener LOL.
anyways. i missed u. have sub snape being a mess for a pretty lady. me too.
*The audios are made with AI but the writing is mine loves!* *Some aren't fics posted here and just on Patreon- Ill mark them with ** * Currently working on voices for Lucius and Sirius and maybe James too if I can! 18+
Let me know any fics you'd like to have the audio for!
Patreon Link
Inferior- Stepdad Snape x reader
**Sucking off Snape blurb audio
**Forbidden- Remus x Teacher Assistant Reader
**Desire-Severus Snape x reader
**Remus fingers you and sucks your clit
Ribbon-Severus Snape x reader
**Severus fingers you and sucks on your clit
Hide (free preview) - Professor Lupin xreader
Hide- full audio prof lupin x reader
**Reward- Remus's version
**Reward- Snape's version
**Remus talking you through it
**Being Praised by Snape
Caught: Professor Lupin x Professor Snape x reader
Polished- Severus Snape x reader pt 1 and pt 2
Vice- Professor Lupin x reader
Kinktober day 10 Snape audio (whips, gloves, camera)
Awakening- remus lupin x virgin!reader
Remus Lupin comforts you after a bad day(NOT NSFW- COMFORT FLUFF)
Mine-Remus Lupin Breeding Kink
*I try to make as many of them as I can completely free but sometimes Patreon marks them as too explicit and says they have to be for paid members only- I am going to see if I can make an even cheaper tear because I don't want my work to be put up behind a super expensive paywall!*
*Ill do my best to keep this updated!*
NSFW WARNING: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT.
WORD COUNT: 3.5K
AUTHORS NOTE: This is like my first actual one shot in like a year... maybe two?? LMAO. So here is some pure smut i've been working on for the last week to make up for lost time. WHOOP
The art of Legilimency had always been seen as a weapon in Severus’s eyes. He had trained himself countlessly for years to master the precise skills to infiltrate a person’s mind and even manipulate it. It had been a tool of necessity, a means of survival… never something thrilling.
Severus had never once dared to use Legilimency on his wife. There were times when he felt like she was hiding certain aspects of her past or not always saying what she truly meant, but he would never infiltrate her mind. After a year into their marriage however, she had let him see different memories from her life that she believed would bring them closer. He appreciated the gesture and enjoyed every moment that he could relive with her, and his wife seemed to enjoy that next level of closeness.
As their marriage went on, life became busier and responsibility became a priority. Between Severus’s doubled work from both Albus and Voldemort, and his wife’s large presence in The Order, the couple’s quiet moments of intimacy grew less and less. This lack of intimacy caused frustration between Severus and his wife over time. Severus had never been the sort of man who craved intimacy. He spent most of his life in solitude and even after his marriage, intimacy was not something that he longed for. But he also was not immune to the weight of the distance. He could tell that his wife also missed their moments alone together. The two would often exchange soft glances towards each other whenever they could and his wife would always make sure to brush her hands against his own when they passed each other in the corridors. Their evenings were their only moments alone, however their exhausting days often superseded the need for intimacy.
After a long day of teaching in the castle and then immediately heading to Grimmauld Place for a meeting, Severus was practically bursting with the need to just be with his wife. There was still so much to say during this meeting, yet the only thing he could focus on was his wife sitting across from him at the table. Arthur Weasley’s voice bounced around the table as Severus’s eyes locked onto his wife. He watched as she intently listened to whatever Arthur was rambling on about. Severus could see it in his wife’s demeanor; the way her shoulders tensed slightly as she ran her fingertips across the rim of her goblet. She was just as frustrated as he was. She shifted in her seat slightly, finally glancing his way. Severus curled his fingers underneath the table as he made eye contact with his wife; a multitude of thoughts flashed through his mind. He thought about the risks, the possibility of reading the situation wrong. But as she looked at him, he was already acting before he could consider any other consequences.
By this point in Severus’s life, using Legilimency was like tying his shoes. With an effortless flicker of intent, Severus reached out towards his wife. His wife didn’t flinch. She blinked, slow and measured as she moved her fingers slowly around the rim of her cup. Severus kept his eyes locked onto his wife as he tried his best to pretend that he was paying attention to the meeting. He focused his thoughts as he flashed a memory from months before through her mind. The hotness of their breaths, his firm hands holding her straddled hips roughly against his lap, the soft mutters. Flashes of moments flooded her mind, completely unfiltered and raw. Across the table, she stiffened as her grip on her goblet tightened. Severus watched as her eyes glanced towards him quickly while raising her brows slightly. Severus kept a straight face as he held his gaze on his wife as she rolled her shoulders back.
He continued to keep his thoughts to himself for the rest of the meeting, occasionally glancing over towards her to slightly raise a brow or give a subtle smirk. When they returned back to their private chambers that night, she wasted no time. The door had barely closed when she turned to face him with a slight grin on her face. He barely had time to register anything as his back hit the closed door behind him.
“Legilimency during an Order meeting?” She spoke softly as her hands gripped the sides of his cloak, “And here I thought my husband was a man of discipline.”
Severus chuckled softly as he looked down at his wife.
“You seemed…disinterested. I simply provided you with something more…engaging to focus on, my love”
His wife groaned slightly as she leaned forward to peck his lips. Each kiss continued to grow more and more heated as they made their way through the livingroom and down the hall. Severus kept his hand on the small of his wife’s back as he led her down the hall and towards their shared bedroom. They moved forward through the bedroom, losing any resemblance of restraint. He slowly lowered his wife down onto the bed so that she was now laying on her back. Severus stood still for a moment as he looked down at his wife. This was the first time they have been able to have any form of intimacy in quite some time now, so Severus wanted to savor the moment. She looked up at him as she fidgeted with her fingers, her chest rising up and down. Severus stood at the edge of their bed as he moved his hands to slowly and deliberately unbutton each button on his cloak, keeping his eyes on his wife the entire time. He smirked softly as he watched his wife let out a slight huff of impatience. He moved his hands down to begin unbuttoning the last half of his cloak as he pushed into his wife’s mind with ease once more. In an instant, his mind was flooded with his wife’s echoing voice pleading with need. His lip twitched slightly as he slipped his cloak down to the floor before moving forward to lean over his wife. He dipped his head down slightly as he whispered into her ear with a breathy voice.
“You should be more careful about the thoughts you allow into your mind, darling.”
The shiver underneath his body was the only response he needed. He dipped his head down once more to gently kiss her earlobe and then down to her neck, feeling her body arch underneath him. Severus exhaled slowly as he continued to leave gentle trails of kisses down her neck, allowing himself the rare indulgence of just feeling. He moved his mouth to the edge of her jaw as he worked his way towards her mouth. As their lips connected once more, Severus’s hands instinctively moved to each of his wife’s wrists, pinning them gently above her head. His wife groaned into the kiss as she moved her head forward to deepen the embrace. Not letting go of her wrists, Severus smiled into her mouth as her gasp interrupted their kiss. He slowly lifted his head back to gaze down at his wife as he watched her eyes widen. She could feel the heat between her legs instantly as his fingers brushed underneath the hem of her skirt. He watched her brows furrow as she tried to make sense of the situation. He still held her wrists above her head. He hadn’t moved.
Severus watched her twitch underneath his body as he kept the intent locked in his mind. Another phantom caress moved below her hips as it pressed warmly against the cloth of her panties. He knew that the pressure was working, even if he was not touching her himself. The temptation to smirk was overwhelming as Severus cocked his head, looking down at his wife.
“Is something wrong?” He spoke simply.
“You know what you’re doing” she replied almost in an instant.
The corners of Severus’s mouth turned up slightly.
“Do I?”
He pressed further, keeping the pressure firm between her legs as he began to work another force of pressure underneath her sweater. Severus dipped his head back down, planting soft, wet kisses against her neck as his wife began to feel a swirling sensation against both buds of her nipples. The soft groan releasing from her mouth was all the satisfaction that Severus needed as he continued to please his wife. His lips proceeded to trail down as he listened to his wife’s moans of pleasure. Glancing up slightly, he watched his wife's eyes squeezed shut, arching her back while twitching ever so slightly. Keeping the pressure swirling between her legs and under his sweater, Severus relaxed his mind even more as he planted one more kiss against her neck before pulling away without her noticing. Her breath continued to hitch as her head tipped further to the side to allow him more access that he was no longer taking. Her fingers twitched in place, still laying on the pillows above her head.
He stood at the edge of the bed now, just watching. She moaned softly, as if she could still feel his breath against her skin. He watched her hips rise and fall as she squirmed against the pressure that was between her legs. The moment felt like it lasted forever as Severus just stood and admired his wife, engulfed in pleasure. He stepped forward quietly as he moved his hand out to gently touch her leg.
“Such a pretty reaction to something that isn’t even there.”
He watched her eyes flutter gently for a moment before quickly settling her gaze on him standing at the edge of the bed. Furrowing her brows, she opened her mouth slightly to speak, but the pressure between her legs quickly put a stop to that. Severus stepped forward slowly as he placed his hand down on the hem of her skirt.
“Do I even have to touch you?” He spoke once more, continuing with his confidence.
“Severus,” she gasped slightly, “Please.”
He moved his hands once more to gently pull the edges of her skirt below her hips and down to the floor. He leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on top of her panties. She shuttered under his kiss, arching her back again while moving her legs further apart. He placed a second kiss before gently resting the pad of his thumb over the cloth that covered her clit. Only his eyes flashed up towards her as he circled his thumb in a slow, hard movement.
“Is this the pressure you love so dearly?” He held his gaze directly on her, “So dearly that you’d even let yourself fall apart without a single..real touch?”
She only responded with a breathy groan as she parted her legs further for him, resulting in a soft chuckle escaping from Severus’s mouth. He dipped his head down slowly to move himself between her legs, leaving gentle kisses between her inner thighs.
“Severus..” His wife let out another breathy moan.
“Tell me,” He spoke with his voice firmer now, “Which feels more like me?”
His fingers slowly crept over the cloth of her panties as he held them to the side with his fingertips. Making eye contact with her once more, his head lowered further as he planted a soft kiss against her folds. She shuddered beneath him as he held his lips firmly against her entrance, gently tracing soft kisses up and down her folds. A small breath of air escaped from his mouth as he pressed his face further into her slick. The tip of his nose gently pressed against her clit as he leaned his mouth forward to lick along her folds before moving to suck ever so slightly around her now swollen bud. He kept his gaze locked onto hers as continued the light attacks of suction followed by a subtle flick of his tongue. Severus couldn’t help but let out a soft groan as he continued his assault, humming against her mound while swirling his tongue in a calculated motion. He continued to massage his fingers in a circle around her clit, glancing up at her once more.
Focusing his intent once more, he moved his mouth from her cunt to trail kisses up her stomach, pulling her sweater over her head. Even as his kisses left her swollen mound, the pressure and suction feeling continued in his wife’s mind. She gasped and arched beneath him as he met his lips with her own, pecking them once before glancing down to stare at his wife, who was now a complete mess.
“You are falling apart, my love,” He whispered seductively.
“Severus,” she managed to groan, “Please…”
“Please what? Is that all you can say?” He responded almost instantly, “I haven’t even begun.”
His kisses trailed from her jaw down to her chest, placing gentle kisses and nibbles all over before glancing back up at his wife.
“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” He spoke in a low growl before wrapping his lips around one of her hard nipples, feeling her twitch beneath him. “Your body certainly has missed this.”
Severus moved his mouth to her other nipple, lightly circling his tongue around her sensitive bud while squeezing the other lightly with his fingertips. The pressure between her legs continued as his wife squirmed in complete pleasure. Severus could feel the blood flowing to his cock even more than it already had. He wanted to drag this out for as long as he could, but he also had his own limits. Severus moved his mouth away from her nipple before leaning back to sit up once more. He glanced down at his wife, who was still writhing in ecstasy. Moving his hands to the buttons of his trousers, he held his gaze on her while unfastening each button and pulling his trousers to the floor. His cock throbbed painfully under his now incredibly tight boxers as he moved his hand to his waistline to pull them to the floor as well. The second he pushed his boxers down, his cock sprung free. He could practically feel his heartbeat in the head of his cock as he gripped his fist around the shaft, keeping his eyes locked onto his wife on the bed.
He leaned forward once more to hover over his wife as she arched beneath him. He felt the hot air from her gasps blow against his cheek, making his cock twitch. Dipping his head down farther, Severus leaned in to kiss his wife passionately, moving his right hand to cover her eyes as she writhed under him. He continued the kiss, using his free hand to fist his cock and position himself at her entrance. He swiped the head of his cock against her now wet folds, making it incredibly easy for him to thrust into her. Keeping his right hand over his wife’s eyes, Severus grunted softly as he thrust his hips forward, burying his cock completely into her cunt as an uncontrolled moan released from his own mouth. He held himself in place for a few moments as he tried to regain some sort of control. His eyes rolled back, engulfed in the warmth and wetness wrapped around his cock. His wife continued to twitch and squirm beneath him, her cunt tightening around his cock with each moan. As Severus watched her, he realized she was too lost in ecstasy to realize that he was now buried deep inside of her. He promised himself that he would keep some control…that he would take his time. But he was starting to suffer now and needed his own pleasure.
Keeping his hand firmly over her eyes, Severus pulled his hips back gently, slipping his cock out to the tip before slamming himself directly back inside of her with a grunt. His wife gasped underneath him as her walls tightened around his cock once more.
“You poor thing,” He lowered his head to speak in a low growl, “You don’t even know what is real anymore do you?”
He snapped his hips forward again, feeling his cock twitch inside of her. He moved his mouth against her ear, whispering in a low voice.
“Look at yourself, darling.”
He moved his hand away from her eyes, positioning himself now to hold himself up. Continuing the pressure circling around her clit that he put there with his mind, Severus thrust his hips forward for the third time, now beginning a slow pace. He held his gaze on his wife as she moaned and twisted beneath him. Her eyes fluttered open partially as she looked around, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Severus could see that the constant pressure was beginning to overstimulate her. Her cheeks were flushed and she twitched every couple of seconds. She could feel his cock pulsating inside of her with every pump as his calculated thrusts began to speed up. He bit the skin on the inside of his cheek, thrusting his hips forward with a viscous snap. Keeping his eyes on her, he focused his mind once again.
Still keeping up with his pace, Severus began to slip through his wife’s mind once again. He grunted, continuing to pound into her while beginning to think about their night together a few months ago. The moment the thought entered his mind, he felt her walls tighten around him as her moans grew louder, but slightly strained. Severus imagined the night he pounded into her mercilessly with his hand gently wrapped around her throat. His wife knew his arms were still holding himself up, and that this was another one of his mind intrusions. She felt the slight tension around her throat, heightening everything she was feeling.
Severus already had her in the palm of his hand, so pushing his mind into hers was incredibly simple. He made sure that the pressure around her throat was light, but just enough to keep her aware of his presence. She kept her eyes locked onto his as her cheeks turned pinker than they already were. She bit the skin on the bottom of her lip, grunting along with her husband as he slammed into her and overloaded her body and mind with stimulation and pressure.
Severus moved his arm to rest his right hand on her lower stomach, pressing and rubbing softly while thrusting into her. He slowly lost some of his rhythm as he could feel himself nearing orgasm. Sliding his hand down a few inches, he used his thumb to rub her swollen clit in light circles. Her legs snapped around his hips as she clenched around him, throwing her head back while letting out another stifled moan. She could feel the pressure building up inside of her and Severus was close to his own release. The sounds of him plunging into her and their moans echoed through the room. His thrusts had now turned into slow, hard pumps, his body leaning forward to bring his mouth to her collarbone. He kissed along her collarbone, leaving small love-bites between each kiss, causing her to arch herself further into him. He snapped himself forward roughly, grunting in her ear with each pump.
“Sev… I’m-” she gasped, barely getting the words out.
“Gods… I’ve… missed… you…” He grunted with each thrust, throwing his face into her neck.
With that, she threw her head back, her moans echoing through the bedroom. Severus worked up enough energy to lift his head, continuing his thrusts as he looked down at his wife coming undone.
“There we are…” He hummed, “Look at me, darling.”
She struggled, but she eventually attempted to flutter her eyes open to look up at her husband moving into her. Her toes curled, feeling a tingling crawl up and down her body. As Severus thrusted in, warmth spread over her, making her twitch and spasm in pleasure.
“G-GOD..” She moaned out, “God, I-I lo-ove you..”
He thrust his hips forward with a few more snaps before feeling the warmth spread through his own body, his cock twitching before the rest of his body felt numb. Severus leaned forward, moving more of his weight onto his wife as a broken moan slipped from his mouth. He pushed his cock deeper into her, riding out his release with his wife clenching around him. Severus pushed his face further into her neck with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, feeling nothing but pleasure throughout his body. He tried his best to keep his mind focused, but the stimulation continued to twitch throughout him making it incredibly difficult to remain focused. With one final thrust, Severus moved from his wife’s mind, putting a stop to the pressure between her legs and around her throat.
A soft whimper slipped from her mouth before she lifted her arms to brush Severus’s hands with her fingers, still feeling a tingling all over her body. She moved her fingers through his tangled hair while they each came down from their climaxes. Severus kept his face tucked in his wife’s neck, keeping his cock deep inside of her. The two laid in that position for quite some time in total silence. Eventually, Severus lifted his head to look down at his flushed wife.
“Never again,” He spoke in a soft voice before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, “Never this long apart again.”
summary: You hadn't expected to see him at the Malfoy's lavish New Year's party - not after all these years. But one spilled drink would set in motion what you'd fantasized about since he was still your Head of House, a stolen moment in the kitchen blooming into a night you'll never forget. (edited 08/03/25)
~
Lucius Malfoy loved to throw parties.
Severus Snape hated them.
He much preferred the solitude of his home at Spinner’s End, where the company of books, quiet, and a decent bottle of scotch far outweighed the din of clinking glasses and false smiles. Still, he made a point to show face at one or two of Lucius’s gatherings a year, purely out of politeness. He never stayed long, an hour at most, just enough to make the rounds, nurse a drink or two, and vanish without fanfare.
You, on the other hand, were nearly a regular at Malfoy Manor soirées. Old school connections, familiar faces, and the excuse to get dressed up and escape the dull rhythm of daily life kept you coming back. You were especially close with Draco, though "close" was perhaps not the right word. The two of you had a complicated sort of history. Friends, yes. Occasionally more, depending on how drunk you both were. You’d made it clear you weren't looking for anything serious, or so you thought.
You were starting to suspect he hadn’t taken you seriously.
It was New Year’s Eve now, and the manor was brimming with guests dressed to the nines. You stood near the back of the ballroom, trying - and failing - to avoid Draco’s endless chatter. He was monologuing again, gesturing with one hand while the other rested far too familiarly over your shoulder.
You barely heard a word he said. Your eyes drifted across the room, scanning the crowd almost unconsciously for a flash of raven-black hair, dark eyes, a towering presence dressed in black. You hadn’t seen Severus at any of these events in years, but your eyes always searched for him anyway.
Old habits, you supposed.
Back at Hogwarts, he’d been your Head of House. You had the usual Slytherin respect for him - bordering on fear, at times - but by the time fifth year rolled around, that fear had twisted into fascination. You developed a crush. A deep, all-consuming one. Not that you ever acted on it - Merlin, you’d have been tossed from Slytherin and banned from the dungeons forever.
So you admired him from afar. You’d purposely chosen an aisle seat in Potions class, just so you could catch his scent when he stormed past - cloves, parchment, and something darker, like bitter smoke. You still remembered the high you got from seeing "Better than I expected" scribbled at the bottom of your essay on the uses of unicorn horn in blood-replenishing potions. High praise, coming from him. You’d saved the parchment, pressed flat in a book somewhere, long forgotten but never discarded.
You’d sketched him, too, in the margins of your notes, on napkins during meals in the Great Hall, anywhere you could, though you never showed anyone. That kind of adoration had no place in the open air.
Time passed. Life moved on. Your flame for him dimmed over the years, but it never quite extinguished.
Draco suddenly announced he was off to fetch drinks. You nodded tightly, grateful for the brief reprieve. The moment he disappeared into the crowd, you let out a sigh and glanced down at your hands, admiring your nails. You’d gotten them done that morning - elegant almond-shaped tips in a champagne shimmer, glossy and reflective with tiny flecks of gold foil. They were perfect, understated and festive.
You fidgeted while you waited, and just as you began scanning the room again, still hoping, Draco reappeared, carrying a shot in one hand and a neon blue cocktail in the other.
"Here you are, darling," He said brightly, extending the garish drink toward you.
But someone bumped into him from behind.
The blue drink sloshed violently forward - right onto your chest.
You gasped, stumbling back a step as the liquid soaked into the front of your dress. It ran down in sticky, slow drips, disappearing into your bra.
"Bloody hell," You hissed, staring down at yourself in horror. At least you'd worn black.
Draco began apologizing profusely, but you raised a hand, cutting him off with a look that left no room for argument. "Don’t," You snapped, voice low and deadly. "Just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone, Draco. Now."
You turned and stalked off toward the kitchen, cursing under your breath. "Fucking unbelievable... blue drinks, of all bloody things, who even drinks that shit? Who serves it at a Malfoy party? Is this a fucking joke?" You shoved through the door, muttering obscenities and storming toward the sink.
You yanked a wad of paper towels from the roll and began dabbing furiously at your chest, trying to soak up the mess. Your fingers worked quickly, scrubbing at the skin just above the neckline of your dress. The satin clung uncomfortably, and you shoved a few damp towels down the front to try to blot beneath the fabric. Your jaw clenched. The sting of embarrassment burned behind your eyes.
"For Merlin’s fucking sake, what the shit-"
A quiet throat-clear behind you made you freeze.
You turned your head slowly, and then you saw him - leaning casually near the wine rack, glass of something dark and amber in one hand, stood Severus.
You startled. Not fear, exactly, but a jolt of sudden awareness, and your eyes went wide.
"Do you see this shit?" You blurted, gesturing to your chest without thinking. "Proper twat, he is."
The corner of Severus’s mouth tugged upward, the ghost of a smirk growing by the second. He looked far too amused.
"I see you’ve still got a filthy mouth," He murmured, taking a slow sip of his drink.
You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Professor," You said, sarcastic and quick, ducking your head as you resumed blotting your dress. Your cheeks were warm now, not just from embarrassment but from the sharp jolt of thrill that raced down your spine.
You’d finally found him again, after all these years.
Don’t act like a fool, You thought. You’ve got one shot at this.
He watched you for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, sweeping your form with a subtlety that would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t so hyperaware of him. He hadn't seen you in years, but time had done you justice. You were no longer the girl stealing glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking. You’d grown into yourself - all lean lines and soft curves, your black dress hugging the gentle slope of your hips and bum. The hem brushed the floor, a slit trailing up the length of your leg, the neckline low but tasteful. Your hair was longer now, darker, falling in soft waves that brushed your shoulder blades.
You caught him looking and said nothing, only continued blotting the mess from your skin, pretending not to notice the slow rake of his eyes.
"So, who spilled on you?" He asked, voice casual, though there was something beneath it. Amusement, yes, but also interest.
You groaned, rolling your eyes skyward. "Draco."
He paused, raising a brow. "Your date?"
Your hand stilled mid-blot. Slowly, your eyes lifted to meet his.
"Definitely not."
He held your gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Whatever he saw in your expression must have satisfied him, because he gave a small nod and took another sip of firewhisky.
A beat passed.
"I haven’t really seen you at any of these in a while," You said, feigning nonchalance, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. You tucked a curl behind your ear, heart pounding. "Figured you’d sworn them off entirely."
He eyed you over the rim of his glass, dark brow lifting. "You’ve been looking?"
You hesitated just a fraction, then met his gaze with renewed confidence. The alcohol helped, so did the years. You weren’t a student anymore - you didn’t owe him obedience.
"What if I have?" You replied, voice low.
He stared at you - hard, assessing, unreadable - but something shifted behind his eyes. Just the barest flicker of an acknowledgment. A heat, slow and coiled, beginning to stir beneath the surface.
He shifted slightly, turning more toward you now, and this time his gaze was anything but subtle. He took his time, eyes moving deliberately - the flush of pink still warming your cheeks, the delicate dusting of freckles across your nose, the way your mauve lipstick made your lips look almost too full for polite company.
"Why have you?" He asked at last, voice low and smooth. A challenge.
Oh, two could play at this game.
You leaned back against the sink, one hand bracing on the edge of the marble as your posture relaxed into something almost lazy. Your hair slipped over one shoulder in loose waves, catching the light. You tilted your head slightly to the side, meeting his gaze with a calm confidence - eyes steady, lips curled in the faintest smirk.
"Maybe I’ve got a thing for men who hate parties and would rather drink alone in the kitchen," You said coolly.
There was a pause, a slow blink. And then his smirk deepened, just a hair. Dangerous. Pleased.
"Is that so?"
You shrugged lightly, eyes not leaving his. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for brooding, emotionally unavailable types. Call it a character flaw."
"You should work on that," He said dryly.
"Maybe," You replied, "But not tonight."
The weight in the air shifted again, heavier now, humming with something unspoken. His gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second, then returned to your eyes.
He said nothing at first, only watching you with that unreadable stare - part intrigue, part warning. Then he wordlessly lifted the glass to his lips and downed the last of his drink in one long, slow swallow. The amber liquid caught the light as it disappeared, and when he set the empty glass down, his movements were smooth. Controlled. Measured.
But you could feel the heat simmering underneath.
"Careful, Miss Y/L/N. You’re playing a dangerous game," He murmured, turning the weight of his stare fully on you.
He refilled his glass, the rich scent of firewhisky curling into the air between you like a challenge. But before he could lift the glass to his lips, your hand slid between his and the rim. You took it from him - slow, intentional - your fingers brushing his just long enough to feel the tension coil tighter beneath his skin.
You didn’t break eye contact.
You raised the glass, the crystal cool against your palm, and tilted it back with a practiced ease. The firewhisky was smoother than you expected - smoky, spiced, expensive. You swallowed without flinching, letting it burn a little as it slid down your throat. Then you lowered the glass, a perfect mauve lip print staining the rim.
And just because you knew he was watching, you dragged your tongue over your upper lip in one slow, deliberate motion, catching every trace of the drink.
His jaw flexed, subtle, but telling.
You stepped closer, close enough to smell the clove and smoke on him, your voice dropping into a purr. "And what if danger... excites me?" You asked, tilting your chin just slightly.
His eyes swept over you - your lips, the curve of your throat, the way your dress clung to your hips and thighs, still slightly damp from Draco’s mess. His gaze was slow, intense, calculating. "Then you’re a bloody fool," He said, his voice quiet, almost reverent.
You hummed in amusement, setting the glass down with a soft clink against the counter. "A fool," You murmured, gaze never leaving his, "Who knows what she wants."
And then, with a daring you didn’t quite realize you possessed, you reached forward and walked two fingers slowly up the lapel of his robes - deliberate, teasing, testing. But the moment your touch reached the edge of his collarbone, his hand shot out, catching your wrist in a firm, unyielding grip.
You gasped - not from fear, not even from surprise, really, but from the pleasure of it. The control in his fingers, the heat radiating off of him. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was commanding, and your breath hitched at the sheer intimacy of it.
He stepped forward, just enough that your back was pressed against the counter. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, lips barely a breath away from skin.
"And what do you want?" He asked, voice deep and coaxing, the kind that wrapped around your throat like silk. His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before lifting again, locking with yours.
You tilted your head back slightly, baring your neck, the movement instinctive. Your heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it might bruise your ribs. "I think you know the answer to that," You murmured.
His grip on your wrist tightened - just slightly, but it sent a jolt through you like lightning. You exhaled a soft, breathy moan before you could stop it, quiet enough that it could’ve been missed, but his eyes darkened instantly.
"I want to hear you say it."
The way he said it - low, commanding, edged with that dangerous intensity only he possessed - made your knees feel unsteady. He wasn’t going to let you hide behind clever remarks or flirty innuendo. He wanted it laid bare.
You swallowed hard, but you didn’t look away. "I want you, Severus," You whispered.
The second the words left your mouth, something in him shifted. Your wrist was released, only for him to wrap one strong arm around your waist, yanking you flush against his body in one smooth, possessive movement. You barely had time to gasp before his other hand came up to cradle your face, palm firm, thumb grazing just beneath your cheekbone.
His eyes searched your face for a fraction of a second, taking in your parted lips, the breathless anticipation, the sharp glint of hunger barely hidden beneath your bold exterior.
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t tentative, or gentle, it was years of repressed hunger poured into the bruising crush of his mouth on yours, demanding and hot, moving with a precision that stole the air from your lungs. You whimpered against him as your body arched into his, mouth opening instinctively under the press of his own. His tongue swept in, confident and commanding, coaxing yours in a rhythm that left your knees weak. He tasted like firewhisky and clove and something dark and utterly him, and you found yourself chasing the taste of him with a desperate sound you couldn’t contain.
His fingers dug into your waist as he pressed your spine into the counter’s edge. His hips slotted against yours in a way that made your breath catch, and his hand slid from your waist to your lower back, holding you to him like he couldn’t bear a single inch of distance.
Your own hands had found their way into his robes, gripping fistfuls of black wool as you melted into the heat of him. One hand traveled up, tangling into the inky strands at the nape of his neck, tugging just enough to make him growl into your mouth.
Merlin, that sound.
You kissed him deeper in response, lips moving with increasing urgency. You were barely thinking, just feeling - the sharp scrape of his stubble against your chin, the scent of him invading your senses, the hard lines of his chest against your softer curves. His mouth was everywhere, lips tracing down the edge of your jaw, across your neck, nipping at your lower lip before claiming it again with a moan low in his throat.
His hand at your back began to slide downward, fingertips grazing the swell of your backside, gripping hard enough to make your pulse stutter. You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound greedily, deepening the kiss again until you were dizzy from lack of air and too much want.
Time disappeared. Gone were the clinking of glasses, the low thrum of music from the ballroom, the distant chatter of Lucius’s guests. Nothing existed but him - the way he kissed you like a man starved, the way his body pinned yours like he’d waited years for this, the way your name might as well have been carved on his tongue for how reverently he devoured you.
And just when your hands began to wander, sliding down his chest, fingertips teasing the open edge of his collar, a sudden laugh from the corridor beyond the kitchen snapped the moment in two.
You both froze.
He pulled back, only barely, your breaths mingling between you as his lips hovered over yours. His chest heaved, yours rising to match, your mouths still parted as though reluctant to end the kiss.
You blinked up at him, dazed, lips swollen, your mauve lipstick smeared across both your mouths in delicious evidence.
"Fuck," You whispered, dazed.
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated in his chest. "Yes," He said, voice rough and wrecked. "Exactly."
Severus’s breath was warm against your skin when he lifted a hand, thumb tracing delicately along your chin. He wiped the smudge of mauve lipstick there with more care than you expected - slow, precise, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you just yet. You could barely breathe, still dizzy from his kiss, your heart pounding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat.
Then you heard voices, and you both froze again.
Draco’s, unmistakably, just beyond the kitchen doorway, a guest with him, a voice you didn't recognize, saying, "Have you checked the kitchen?"
"No," Draco replied quickly. "But I was just about to."
You sagged in disappointment. Of course.
Severus moved fast. His hand left your face as he grabbed a paper towel from the counter, quickly wiping his mouth - then, without hesitation, he turned to you and gently dabbed the soft cloth at your collarbone, just where his lips had transferred your lipstick. It was quick but careful, almost intimate, and then he tossed the towel in the bin just as the door swung open.
You didn’t bother to move away from him.
You simply leaned back against the counter, chest rising and falling as though you hadn’t just been pinned and kissed within an inch of your sanity, and Severus stood beside you, tall, composed, expression set in a mask of polite disdain that couldn’t quite hide the tension still simmering beneath his skin.
Draco stepped inside, eyeing the pair of you. His gaze flicked between you and Severus, then down to the empty glass on the counter. "I’ve been looking for you everywhere," He said, his tone caught somewhere between concerned and suspicious. "You never came back."
"I’m fine," You said coolly. "Just catching up with Professor Snape." You looked up at Severus, and immediately had to bite back a laugh.
There was a faint smear of mauve lipstick right at the base of his neck, just above the collar of his robes. Subtle, but there. And you were absolutely not going to be the one to point it out.
Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Everyone’s heading to the sitting room," He said after a beat. "The countdown’s about to start."
You sighed, pushing off the counter with a glance at the stainless steel refrigerator, catching your reflection. You dragged a finger beneath your lower lip, smoothing out the now half-worn lipstick, then reapplied from the slim tube hidden in your clutch. Once satisfied, you turned back toward the door.
The three of you walked out together, but it wasn’t long before the crowd swallowed up Severus. You glanced just in time to see the black of his robes disappear around a corner, taking a different route through the sea of guests.
The moment he was gone, you cursed softly under your breath.
Draco frowned. "What’s wrong?"
You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. How were you supposed to explain that Draco Malfoy had just unknowingly interrupted what was probably the single hottest makeout session of your life? One you’d been dreaming about since you were sixteen years old? Now, you didn’t even know if you and Severus would get the chance to finish what you’d started.
Draco lingered close beside you, clearly not done talking. "So... What were you two doing in there for so long?"
You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. "I told you already we were catching up. Over a drink. Gods, you’re nosey."
He hesitated, and then with more nerve than he should’ve had, asked, "Did anything else... Happen?"
You gave him a flat look. "Draco," You said, tone clipped. "We are not together."
He frowned. "I know, but-"
"No,"You said firmly.
Draco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, finally dropping the subject, but your thoughts were miles away.
Your lips still tingled, your heart still raced. Somewhere in the manor Severus Snape, kissed breathless, wearing your lipstick on his neck, was moving through the crowd like nothing had happened.
You weren’t about to let that be the end of it.
When you entered the sitting room your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting Severus standing in the far corner half-shadowed next to the entrance to the hall. Your breath hitched. Even across the crowd, his eyes found yours - dark, unwavering - and your cheeks warmed as a faint smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.
You felt that flutter again. Dangerous, thrilling.
As Lucius raised his glass to give yet another drawn-out New Year’s toast, you began to inch away from Draco. He was too busy hanging on his father's every word to notice. Slipping a pen from your clutch, you scribbled two quick words onto a napkin: follow me.
Then, with your heartbeat loud in your ears, you made your move.
You drifted toward the hall slowly, letting your steps feel casual, deliberate. As you passed Severus, you brushed the folded napkin into his hand, never breaking stride, never looking back. But you felt it, the heat of his stare trailing you like a physical touch.
You stepped into a guest bathroom and closed the door behind you. The space was elegant - a large, glass-doored shower, a double vanity in marble, soft towels perfectly folded on racks. You twisted the dimmer switch, easing the lighting down from sterile to soft and dusky.
Then you waited.
Seconds stretched like hours. Your heart thudded. You checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your dress, adjusting the curl of your hair - why was it suddenly so warm in here?
Then you heard it - the door handle turned, the lock clicked shut.
He entered like a storm, dark and intense, his robes rustling with purpose. Without a word, he flicked his wand, muttered a spell that sealed you in silence, and tossed the wand onto the counter. Your heart leapt into your throat.
In two strides, he was behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, the scent of his cologne and something darker, something distinctly Severus, pressing into you like a second skin. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "You’re a menace."
You tilted your head slightly to give him more access as his mouth trailed from your ear to the column of your neck. "And yet, here you are."
And then he was on you.
He turned you to face him and his mouth crashed against yours with none of the restraint he'd shown earlier. His hands found your waist, dragging you against him, your bodies pressed flush. His lips were fire - insistent, hungry, moving against yours with a dominance that sent a shiver down your spine. You gasped into the kiss and he took full advantage, deepening it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he had every right to claim it. Your fingers clutched at the collar of his robes, pulling him impossibly closer, wanting more, needing more.
His kiss was promise and punishment, reward and ruin. You clung to him as your knees threatened to give, the heat of him overwhelming, dizzying. He kissed you like he’d waited centuries for it, bruising and possessive, all heat and teeth, the kind of kiss that stole breath and sense. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to draw a gasp, while the other gripped your waist, holding you against him so tightly that the gods couldn't tear you apart.
His hands roamed, calloused fingers sliding up your thigh beneath the slit of your dress, nails grazing just enough to make your stomach clench. He pushed the fabric higher, exposing lace and skin and a heat that throbbed for him alone.
You pulled back just slightly, enough to catch your breath. His chest was rising and falling with effort, his pupils dilated, lips parted, and you couldn’t help the mischievous gleam that lit your eyes. "You know," You murmured, your fingers brushing his neck. "You had my lipstick on your neck this whole time. Bold of you, people are bound to talk if they saw it."
His expression didn’t change, but something darker flickered in his gaze. "And what, exactly, would they say?" His voice was low, gravel and silk, frayed with restraint.
"They’d think you were with a woman, of course," You said lightly, a teasing smile dancing on your lips. "They wouldn’t know who, at first, but anyone who saw the shade I’m wearing would probably be able to put two and two together. Jump to conclusions..."
Severus stepped closer again, impossibly close, and your heart fluttered when his hand gripped your thigh a touch tighter. "What sort of conclusions?" He asked, each syllable deliberate and controlled, though his breathing betrayed him, uneven and ragged.
"Oh, all sorts of conclusions," You said, your voice soft, the words gliding from your lips like smoke. "Most obvious being that we kissed, but I doubt their minds would stop there."
You let your fingertips drift through his hair, combing it slowly, reverently, trailing them down along his temple, his jaw, his throat making him shiver under your touch. "A man and woman, alone at the party, drinking, inhibitions lowered... Well, we could’ve been up to anything," You whispered, tracing your finger down to the edge of his collar. "A professor and his former student? How scandalous."
He swallowed hard. You watched the way his jaw flexed, like he was biting back the urge to act - or to lose control entirely. "There would definitely be rumours about us," You continued, leaning into him, your lips just shy of brushing his. His breath was ragged, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises tomorrow. "Some would say I seduced you with my body... others would say you got me drunk."
His hands on your hips flexed again, firmer now, possessive.
"Mostly," You breathed, tilting your face so that your lips nearly ghosted across his as you spoke. Severus’s restraint was unraveling, thread by thread, his thumb tracing the edge of your thigh as his eyes bore into yours, unreadable and dangerous and hungry. "They’d agree that we fucked, right here in the bathroom... all while poor Draco searched the party for his supposed date."
The word lingered in the air like gunpowder, and the tension snapped taut like a wire between you. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," He growled against your neck, lips dragging down to your collarbone, where he bit just enough to leave a mark.
"Then show me," You whispered, your fingers working at the buttons of his coat, undoing him like a woman starving.
He turned you around, laying you over the counter of the vanity like an offering. Your breath fogged the mirror, shaky and uneven, misting the gilded glass as Severus’s hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that bordered on reverent. The fabric of your black dress was bunched up around your waist now, exposing your thighs to the open air, to his gaze, to his touch.
You could still feel the ghost of his mouth on your neck, where he had kissed you with a hunger that betrayed how long he’d wanted this - how long he had suffered wanting you. His fingers traced your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh there as if to ground himself. Then up, slowly, sliding along your spine, over your shoulders, and down your arms until your hands met his, and your fingers interlocked.
He leaned down, pressing his chest to your back, and your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the press of his lips at your ear. "You are exquisite like this," He whispered, voice deep and low and dripping with restrained hunger. "Utterly, maddeningly divine."
You whimpered softly, the sound half-buried in the rustle of his coat as it brushed your bare thighs. One of his hands slid away from yours, fingers dipping between your thighs in a way that made you shudder against the counter.
"You’re already shaking," He murmured, voice wicked with satisfaction. "And I haven’t even begun."
You turned your head slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of his dark eyes in the mirror -blown wide, fixed entirely on you, like he couldn’t look away if he tried.
And then his fingers slipped inside, coaxing a kind of moan from your lips that you barely recognized as your own. His pace was slow, teasing at first, curling and withdrawing with every stroke until your legs trembled and your hands clenched around his.
When he added his thumb to the rhythm, pressing and circling with devastating precision, your knees nearly gave out. A sharp tug, then a rip of fabric, and the delicate lace of your knickers gave way beneath his hand.
You gasped, half in surprise, half in anticipation, the sound only seeming to fuel him.
"I’ll get you another pair," He muttered roughly against your throat.
"I’d rather you didn’t."
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, his hands releasing you, and you could hear the distinct sound of him undoing his belt - slowly, deliberately - like he wanted you to feel every heartbeat of anticipation.
You let out a shuddering breath, clutching the edge of the vanity for dear life.
"So ready for me," He murmured, voice thick with awe and hunger. "Merlin, look at you."
You dared a glance at your reflection - your body bent forward, hands gripping porcelain. His tall frame behind you, all black robes and restraint barely held in check. His eyes met yours in the mirror - dark, devouring, burning with something too fierce to be fleeting.
You felt his manhood against you then, hard and demanding, pressing into the curve of your backside. His hand slid back down, anchoring your hip, his lips brushing your ear. "Tell me you want this."
"I want you," You breathed. "Please."
He exhaled sharply, as though he’d been holding his breath for a century. He finally entered you, desperate and deep, a perfect stretch that made your head fall back, your reflection a blur of smudged lipstick, flushed skin, and lust-glazed eyes. He braced one hand behind your back, the other gripping your hip so tightly you knew there’d be bruises later - and you wanted them.
And then he moved. Not with tenderness, with purpose. Thrusting deep, dragging himself through you with brutal rhythm, groaning like every tight pulse around him was your soul agreeing to be his. He fucked you with deliberate force, hips slamming into yours, his hand moving from your back to your throat, choking the breath from your lips just enough to make your eyes roll back.
"Severus-" You whimpered, barely coherent.
His response was a hum of satisfaction, lips pressed to your shoulder as he moved with maddening precision. His other hand never left yours, never let you drift too far from the grounding heat of his grasp, each movement building you toward the edge with devastating control.
"Look at yourself," He rasped, voice thick. "I want you to watch me ruin you."
You obeyed, and the image in the mirror made your breath catch. Your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, your body bent and offered like some unholy gift, and behind you, Severus - shirt unbuttoned, eyes ablaze, looking at you like you were salvation wrapped in sin.
You felt the change in him before it happened - the stutter in his rhythm, the hitch in his breathing, the tightening grip of his hand as his thrusts grew harder, faster, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
And then, ecstasy.
Your knees buckled slightly and he caught you easily, keeping you upright, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, breath hot against your shoulder as he spilled into you, moaning obscenities against your neck as his thrusts slowed to a stop.
You found his eyes in the mirror. Dark, hungry, but softened, too, something reverent flickering behind the heat.
He kissed the back of your shoulder, then the shell of your ear again. "Happy New Year," He whispered.
You smiled, lips still parted as your breath came in soft little gasps. "Best one yet."
Warnings: Im back!! Sorry if this sucks.. Kinktober, Y/L/N means your last name, Teacher/Student Reader is of age!!, punishment kink, fingering, slight description of reader, dominance, rough handaling, light humiliation, sex on the desk, praise, degradation, dirty talk, breath play, overstimulation.
The libary was almost empty when you slipped inside, the air thick with the smell of parchment and dust. You weren't supposed to be here- not at this hour- but the quiet was comforting, and you told yourself you'd only stay a little while.
Your fingers skimmed along the spines of books when the low hum of a voice stopped you cold.
"Miss Y/L/N."
You froze. That voice could only belong to one person.
Snape was standing by the far table, arms folded, watching you with that unreadable expression that always made your stomach twist.
"What exactly are you doing here? It is well past curfew."
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. "I... couldn't sleep, sir."
His eyes flickered over you- dressing gown, slippers, hair tied up. "The dormitory would be a logical place for a sleepless student. Not the libary."
Heat rose to your cheeks. "I just- I wanted to read for a bit."
Hestudied you for a moment longer before leaning forward, his tone deceptive and soft. "Return to your dorm. I will not find you wandering again tonight. Understood?"
You nodded quickly.
"Good. Go."
You left without looking back.
You should have stayed put. You really should have.
But an hour later, you were padding down the side corridor near the kitchens, chasing the idea of hot cocoa and fresh bread before bed.
The air shifted- that strange sensation of being watched prickling the back of your neck.
You turned the corner and there he was again. This time, his expression wasn't unreadable- it was cold.
"When I said I would not find you wandering again," he began, his boots clickling agaisnt the stone as he approached, "what exactly did you hear?"
Your swallowed hard. "I wasn't- I was just-"
"Breaking curfew," he finished for you. "Again. In the same evening."
You glanced away, but his voice snapped you back. "Look at me when I speak to you."
You swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"I doubt that," he murmured. "But you will be."
His hand closed around your wirst, firm but not painful, dragging you along the corridor toward the dungeons. Your heart was punding so hard you barely noticed the chill.
He released your chin only to wrap his hand frimly around your wrist. "You will follow me. Now."
You had no choice. His stride was purposeful, dragging you along the corridor until you reached his classroom. The heavy door shut behind you with a resonant thud that seemed to seal your fate.
He didn't turn to face you right away. Instead, he moved to his desk, removed his teaching robes in one smooth motion, and draped them over the chair. The candlelight cast him in sharp lines, his black waistcoat fitted and percise.
"Come here," he said without looking up.
You hesitated.
"Now."
Your feet carried you forward until you stood in front of the desk. His eyes finally lifted to meet yours.
"You are aware," Snape began, voice even but heavy, "that students who repeatedly defy the rules must be... corrected."
Your pulse skipped. "Sir, I didn't-"
"You did." He rose slowly from his chair. "And you will take your punishment."
When you didn't move, he stepped closer, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek. "Bend over the desk."
The command sent heat rushing through you, but your body resisted on instinct. His hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, guiding you down until your chest met the cool wood.
"I warned you what would happen the next time," he said, his tone low and dark, "and I keep my promises."
The hiss of leather sliding through belt loops cut through the silence.
"You will count."
The first strike landed- sharp, stinging.
"One," you breathed.
The second came harder, the third harder still. By the fifth, your knees threatened to buckle, heat pooling low in your stomach.
"Pathetic," Snape murmured, his voice dripping disdain. His hand slif down the curve of your hips, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your nightgown. When he found the damp heat between your thighs, a low, satisfied sound escaped him.
"Already wet from being punished," he said. "Do you enjoy defying me just so I'll do this."
You swallowed hard, unable to answer.
His fingers slid inside you without warning, curling expertly, his other hand gripping your throat and pulling you upright against his chest.
"You'll remember this lesson," Snape murmured in your ear, the dangerous edge in his tone making your pulse race. "And until you learn, I'll keep you here all night... reminding you."
When he pushed into you moments later, it was with the same unrelenting control as his voice- steady, deep, his hand occasionally tightening on your throat just enough to make your head spin. The desk creaked under you, your moans swallowed by his mouth when he kissed you, slow and possessive.
By the time he let you go, your legs were shaking, the sting of leather still burning against your skin, and his voice- low, commanding, inescapable- echoed in your mind.
