I wonder what's under those rags… Was it curiosity or attraction, though? The human embodiment of filth was confused at his conflicting emotions towards the grimy spectre-esque creature. And, before more could be thought, Death's slender fingers grasped the abusive piece of shit's neck and ascended, beautifully fluttering Dementor-like material swirling in the unusually still air. Already the Death Eater was hard.
"Oh, Death, you're too good for me…" he gasped, despite the constricting claws strangling him.
"Shut the fuck up and die already," Death replied, dumping the sub-human pile of dung onto the afterlife's cool ground.
"You're better than Lily… I have found my true love and realised that I had been chasing something I never had and never deserved in the first place…"
"Fuck off." And so Death gave Snape the deathly grey, shrivelled middle finger as he flew away.
"No! Don't go! Oh, Death, punish me as you will!" the worthless shithead begged, throwing himself at the love of his life's feet. Or were they feet? Did the Grim Reaper have feet? Who knew?
Coal-black eyes turned back onto the manifestation of all things disgusting, a dark, misty tongue running over wrinkled lips. "Maybe I won't go. You must beg, Sev."
But the pile of horsecrap knew already that he didn't have to beg. There was a ten foot long elongation protruding from Death's rags, pointing lovingly at Snape. "Please, Death, I know that you want it too."
"Damn right I do," Death admitted greedily, moving towards Snape with fervour.
"Do with me what you will," the wrinkled asshole begged, immediately removing his robes.
Death followed suit, revealing a twenty-four pack beneath his loose robes and a pole-like dick ready to take the filth's virginity, for nobody else had ever wanted to fuck such low-life pieces of shit. Smiling lustfully, the Grim Reaper descended upon Snape's wrinkled, saggy butt and plunged into it, earning him a pleasureful moan from the Professor beneath him.
"I think that you're enjoying this a little too much, Severus," the dark entity whispered, his icy breath against Snape's face making his zero-point-two-inch boner even harder. With a wide smirk upon his face, Death's penis-like fingers whacked the tiny buttocks of Severus Snape.
The human who looked like an inverted arsehole screamed in pleasure and pain, not having time to compose himself before Death penetrated him yet again, their bodies moving in harmony, ecstasy thudding between them both.
Before long, Snape was filled with Death's icy, bright blue cum and he came as well, his own semen the colour of filth and grease. That was why his hair was always so greasy; Death was always near him, and he was simply coming all over his hair.
"After all this time?" Death growled, pulling out after twelve hours of hot sex.
"Always," the obsessive creep replied, smiling for the first time in his entire pathetic life at finally having found his true love.