"Who Will Save the Savior?"
Severus Snape devoted his life to saving others, even when it meant being hated and reviled by the very people he protected. He died believing he was despised, and branded as a traitor to Dumbledore. But what if, at the l...
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I couldn't help but stare at him, my gaze lingering on his every detail, a silent fantasy playing out in my mind. His hair, usually a mess of dark curls, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, framing his face with an unexpected softness. He wore a dirty white long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the smooth, strong lines of his forearms. A dark gray vest, the fabric worn smooth from years of use, hugged his torso, and a maroon necktie, a splash of color against the muted tones of his attire, added a touch of unexpected elegance. His clothes, a far cry from the usual black suits he favored, seemed to suit him in a way that surprised me. He looked... peaceful, almost vulnerable, and so did I, basking in the warmth of his presence. If this was the man I saw every morning, I would be eternally grateful, my mornings forever brightened by his presence.
"Are you done?" His voice, a low rumble, broke through my reverie. He was aware of my gaze, I realized, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Y-yeah!" I stammered, trying to stand, but a sharp pain shot through my womanhood, a stark reminder of the night's passionate encounter. "Ahh!" I groaned, wincing as I struggled to regain my balance. He had thoroughly ravaged me last night, leaving me aching and weak, barely able to walk.
He moved towards me, leaving whatever he was doing. He knelt before me, his gaze filled with concern, and gently adjusted the fur-lined black blanket that had been draped over my naked body. "Are you okay?!" His voice was so soft, so full of concern, that my heart skipped a beat.
He handed me a bottle, the glass cool against my palm. "Drink this, and you'll be better."
I took the bottle, the liquid swirling within, a promise of relief. After just a few seconds, the serum took effect, the pain receding like a tide. "Thanks-"
I couldn't finish my sentence as he captured my lips, his kiss a tender yet demanding caress. I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his neck, responding to his touch with an equal fervor. His tongue invaded my mouth, our kiss deepening, a passionate dance of desire and need.
I bit his lower lip, a playful torment, as he sucked on my upper lip, his teeth grazing my skin with a delicious intensity. Our lips parted only as we caught our breath.
"Morning," he said, his voice a deep, husky rumble, and gave me a short, tender kiss. "Hungry?!"
I nodded, my stomach rumbling in agreement. "Put your clothes first," he said, handing me the silk dress I had been wearing last night, now crumpled on the floor, a testament to our passion.
He helped me into the dress, but I was still without underwear. "Let's go," he said, scooping me up in a bridal carry, my arms clinging to his neck.
He carried me out of the room, gently settling me into a chair at his dining table. Toasted bread, golden and crisp, and eggs cooked sunny side up, their yolks a vibrant yellow, sat on the table, the aroma of breakfast filling the air. A steaming cup of tea sat beside the plate, a comforting warmth on a chilly morning.