Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.
Rowling..I'm just Borrowing them for a short while.
A/N: This is my 2nd fanfic...my first isn't quite complete, but I have a wonderful Idea, and I need to get it out before I loose it....
NOTE: this is a SLASH!!! Flamers-flame away...I would be honored to receive one!!! Little kiddies-the back button is your best friend..use it! I would hate to be the one your mummies and daddies hate for corrupting you minds... Homophobes.....save you and me the drama, and use the back button too...I'm sure you have better things to do...
On with the story! *****
Chapter 1:
A slight turn of the tables.....
All these years I've spent, hating him, hating the very essence of him; the Famous Harry Potter.....him and his green eyes, glistening with innocence and purity, so trusting and understanding...yet with those same eyes, he manages to pierce my soul with looks of pure hatred and disgust.
God, lets not talk about his body...the body of a god...his flawless, deep-tanned skin, thanks to years of quidditch under the sun...and some good all those years of quidditch has done, the many muscles he manages to hide under robes...the same robes, that I, any day, would love to rip to shreds only to be confronted with his perfect statue...Just the mere thought of having the famous Harry Potter scream out in pleasure, eyes fixed and dilated- in a pure state of ecstasy, drives me insane.....
Why am I so vulnerable? Why must I be HIS slave? If he said jump, I'll say how high,love...why am I under his spell?
No, No I am not like Colin Creevey, who worships the fucking chair that he sits in....or Ronald Weasly, who's more than happy to be considered a close friend, to be able to share a room with him...of am I?
Have I become so addicted... has he became a necessity....a....Hell, why do I crave his body, long for his touch, the sound of his voice, calling me professor in such a way, that even Dumbledoor will look down on me...
What the fuck?!?!? I'm Severus Snape, damnit...I'm the evil git who loves nothing more than punishing ikkle Griffyndoors who can't get potions right....but is that my real reason?! Or do I despise anyone who has the chance to be near my young, tender, prince...who can enjoy his presence, sit in his company, and don't realize how blessed they are to be in the same room as the wonderful man himself....
But he shall never know how much I want him, he'll never know the stong desire I have for him to be my slave, all mine, for him to long for my touch, to crave my kiss, to cry out in pleasure because of what I can do, not the other way around...
Which is why I continue to tourture him...whick is why I hate him...he could never love me the way I love him...or could he?!?!?
I am the potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..right?!??! **** Hope you liked it...R/R...let me know if I should continue, of if you hate it.... Hint: you can tell me "eww.....sick..." all you want, but don't expect me to stop!!!!!!
A/N: This is my 2nd fanfic...my first isn't quite complete, but I have a wonderful Idea, and I need to get it out before I loose it....
NOTE: this is a SLASH!!! Flamers-flame away...I would be honored to receive one!!! Little kiddies-the back button is your best friend..use it! I would hate to be the one your mummies and daddies hate for corrupting you minds... Homophobes.....save you and me the drama, and use the back button too...I'm sure you have better things to do...
On with the story! *****
Chapter 1:
A slight turn of the tables.....
All these years I've spent, hating him, hating the very essence of him; the Famous Harry Potter.....him and his green eyes, glistening with innocence and purity, so trusting and understanding...yet with those same eyes, he manages to pierce my soul with looks of pure hatred and disgust.
God, lets not talk about his body...the body of a god...his flawless, deep-tanned skin, thanks to years of quidditch under the sun...and some good all those years of quidditch has done, the many muscles he manages to hide under robes...the same robes, that I, any day, would love to rip to shreds only to be confronted with his perfect statue...Just the mere thought of having the famous Harry Potter scream out in pleasure, eyes fixed and dilated- in a pure state of ecstasy, drives me insane.....
Why am I so vulnerable? Why must I be HIS slave? If he said jump, I'll say how high,love...why am I under his spell?
No, No I am not like Colin Creevey, who worships the fucking chair that he sits in....or Ronald Weasly, who's more than happy to be considered a close friend, to be able to share a room with him...of am I?
Have I become so addicted... has he became a necessity....a....Hell, why do I crave his body, long for his touch, the sound of his voice, calling me professor in such a way, that even Dumbledoor will look down on me...
What the fuck?!?!? I'm Severus Snape, damnit...I'm the evil git who loves nothing more than punishing ikkle Griffyndoors who can't get potions right....but is that my real reason?! Or do I despise anyone who has the chance to be near my young, tender, prince...who can enjoy his presence, sit in his company, and don't realize how blessed they are to be in the same room as the wonderful man himself....
But he shall never know how much I want him, he'll never know the stong desire I have for him to be my slave, all mine, for him to long for my touch, to crave my kiss, to cry out in pleasure because of what I can do, not the other way around...
Which is why I continue to tourture him...whick is why I hate him...he could never love me the way I love him...or could he?!?!?
I am the potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..right?!??! **** Hope you liked it...R/R...let me know if I should continue, of if you hate it.... Hint: you can tell me "eww.....sick..." all you want, but don't expect me to stop!!!!!!