Wow, you all went nuts over the last Sevmione story! Here's another for those who requested it. It's got a bit more detailed smut than "Snape's New Year Kiss." Enjoy!
Consummation: Severus/Hermione
It was a marriage of convenience.
Hermione'd nearly found herself hysterical after discovering her Ministry-forced match—Ronald Weasley. The very Weasley who'd she been pining after for most of her adolescence, the very one, who, in fact, had cheated on her with no less than sixteen witches—that she knew of!— leading to their volatile break-up a year and a half before. She'd been planning the quickest way to leave the country when she'd happened upon Severus Snape. Or, rather, he'd happened upon her.
She sat in her green recliner. Well, it was his, really, introduced to her home when they moved in together. She clutched the Ministry letter in both hands. She trembled, opening and reading those two lines over and over again.
It has come to our attention that nearly eighty percent of the marriages have been fraudulent in that consummation hasn't occurred. We're now requiring consummation to occur in each marriage before the end of the month, and at least twice a month after that for the duration of the matrimony.
Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands, letting the letter flutter to the ground.
It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience.
x
Severus Snape fumed after he read the letter Ms. Granger— no, he reminded himself, Hermione, his wife— handed him when he returned from his trip to gather thestral hair from Hogwarts. It was a necessary ingredient in his current research, one difficult to come by, but Minerva had allowed him access to the school's harras. He was in a rather fine mood after that— well, as fine as Severus Snape allowed his mood to elevate to. Until he caught sight of Hermione, clearly devastated about the idea of bedding him. And why wouldn't she? They agreed to an arrangement of convenience. They didn't even share a bedroom for Salazar's sake.
"We can't get around it," Hermione said. He stared blankly at her, keeping his entire body still. He noticed her eyes were red and his jaw hardened further.
"I talked to the Minister directly. Marched over there after lunch. But he reminded me of the favor he gave us… allowing me to not marry Ron, nor you with Umbridge." She took in a shaky breath. "They're tracking each couple with a modified trace. Such a fucking invasion of privacy." She sat back against the green recliner, the one she'd immediately made hers when he moved his belongings in. "Immediate Azkaban time for those who refuse to comply."
Severus gave a long sigh, glancing out the window. The temperature had dropped enough so that a light snow fell. He should've been enjoying his nightcap of firewhisky, not listening to this particular, unpleasant pitch of Hermione Granger's voice.
She cleared her throat and he directed his eyes upon her once more, taking in her posture. She wore a dress, one of his favorites. It might seem absurd that he'd developed favorite articles of clothing in only two months of marriage, but this one was rather becoming, which was a lot more than he could say about the rest of her wardrobe. There were quite a lot of features of the dress he'd admired: how it tied at her slim waist, the glimpse of her smooth calves and ankles, how the neck scooped down considerably, revealing a generous amount of décolletage. He'd positively ogled her the first time she stepped out of her room in it. She'd been adorning it fairly regularly since.
"The end of the month is this Thursday," she said.
"I'm aware. I do own a calendar, Granger." It just slipped, calling her by her surname, and he pretended not to notice her wince.
"I was thinking, perhaps, we could arrange for our, ah, consummation this Wednesday."
He stiffened even more, as though that were possible. "Very well." He'd turned to his quarters when she called him, her voice so low he scarcely heard.
"Is there anything you'd like me to wear?" she asked, her eyes directly on his. "Lace or favorite colors?" She glanced at his outfit. "Black, maybe?"
He briefly imagined her in black lace and nearly stopped breathing, which enraged him far more than it should have. "Just wear whatever will make the process go as quick as possible," he barked, so loud she jumped back, her eyes widening. "I've got quite a lot planned in the laboratory that evening and will need to get to it as soon as we achieve consummation." He spat the last word out and marched away, unwilling to see the expression he'd left on her face.
x
I can do this, Hermione told herself. I can go in there and fuck my husband. Who happens to be Professor Snape. Who also happens to be disgusted with the idea of fucking you.
She groaned, staring at her appearance. She knew Snape could've done a lot better than her, if the Ministry had only given them the bloody choice. Sure, he was a cranky bastard, but he was brilliant and undeniably sexy. She remembered the first time she'd seen him without his shirt on as she stumbled into the kitchen for a drink of water one night. She hadn't expected him to be so firm everywhere. It unsettled her enough that she grabbed her vibrator the second she returned to her room.
She'd decided on black lace. She had noticed the way his eyes hooded ever so slightly at the suggestion, and she figured if that turned him on, it would get things over with as quick as he needed. Her choice in lingerie wasn't fancy— a simple, sheer baby doll top and lace boyshorts. She'd keep the top on during, putting something of a barrier between them. Maybe it would help him visualize someone he preferred.
She tied on a silk robe and tiptoed to his bedroom, giving the door a gentle knock. She opened it after a moment.
He was reading in bed, wearing a black t-shirt and black pyjamas. Her breath caught at his bare arms— where the hell had he gotten so tan? —and meekly shut the door behind her. "Are you ready?" she asked.
He didn't even look up from his book. She closed her eyes for a few moments, then untied her robe, letting it drop to the floor. As fast as possible, she reminded herself.
When she reopened them, she was treated to a most unusual sight: Severus Snape, jaw slightly opened, eyes hooded with lust. He openly gawked at her chest, then down her legs, then up and down and down and up until, she noticed happily, a tent appeared in his lounge bottoms.
Promising, she thought, walking to the bed with a tight smile.
x
Severus felt lightheaded. His mouth was dry. He hadn't expected her to go for the black lace, but she had, and fucking Salazar, it was better than he even imagined. He couldn't keep his eyes off her tits, high and round and so very visible through that flimsy material. Then there were her legs, long and taut, climbing onto the bed and… oh bloody hell, over him.
"I was thinking we'd start with a kiss," she said. She bit her lip and wouldn't look directly at him, settling just below his erection. He snapped his jaw shut when he realized that as much as he wanted this, she didn't, and who could blame her? He was the hooked nose dungeon vampire, and she, Merlin, was a fucking goddess and did she say she wanted to kiss him?
"Just a kiss," she said, her eyes glancing warily over his. "It won't be long, I promise. I just need something to get me…" She coughed. "Ready. And I'll stay on top, okay? You won't have to do a thing." She gave him a reassuring smile, which he narrowed his eyes at, then gave a curt nod. He wasn't even sure he had the capacity to speak at that point, so he didn't bother trying.
She bent and gently pressed her lips to his.
x
He shoved his tongue into her mouth immediately. It was all she needed, really— her knickers drenched the second his tongue touched hers— but she was a greedy woman in this scenario. Especially with him in this scenario. She moaned and ran her hands in his hair, down his hard chest, over the lines of his abs as she pressed her mouth to his harder.
She broke the kiss abruptly, feeling a little bit like she was going mad. "Take off your shirt," she said. "Please."
He wriggled out of it in about two seconds, and she lowered her head to run her tongue over his nipple. He groaned and ground his cock into her knickers, which were now probably dripping on him.
Right, she reminded herself, stopping her body, willing her head away from his chest. All I'm doing is getting wet. He's very busy. She took a few breaths to calm herself, then looked at him. His fingertips were on her thighs, tingling under his touch. He breathed heavily, but he, too, had stopped his ministrations, his black eyes upon her, looking as though he wanted to say something. But he didn't, and eventually, she sighed.
"I know you wanted this to be as fast as possible," she said, lifting her legs to pull her knickers off. His eyes immediately went to her crotch, which she didn't even bother shaving. What would be the point? "So don't worry about… prolonging anything. Just come whenever you feel like." She lowered his bottoms and pulled his cock out. She noted smugly that he was more than a little wet with pre-come himself, and she promptly slipped him inside.
x
Fucking bloody Merlin's motherfucking… his brain stopped working the second he felt her slick, hot cunt all around him. "Is this okay?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Had she moaned when he sheathed her? He'd meant to listen for her pleasure, but he couldn't recall, as he momentarily had died.
He wanted her to like this. To like fucking him. More than like, really. But he couldn't tell whether she did or not, and for the first time in years, he cursed his inexperience.
She continued to stare and he realized he hadn't answered her question. "Yes," he said. His voice was hoarse and barely recognizable. "Continue."
She nodded as though he'd given her an instruction in potions class. He berated himself for not thinking of something sexier to say. For not telling her how beautiful she looked, for not— oh motherfucking pygmy puffs. She'd lifted herself so that he was nearly fully out, then drove him back in. After about the fifth pump, he already felt like he was losing control.
"Don't," he said. She stopped, staring. "Just give me a moment."
She nodded, sitting back, him still inside her. He glanced at her chest, where her nipples had hardened against the lace of her top. It did him no favors at the moment, and, moreover, why was that blasted thing still on?
She looked concerned, her eyebrows lifted as she waited on him. She shouldn't look like that. She should be screaming his name in fucking pleasured agony, but here he was, making her stop so he wouldn't come in five minutes like a school boy.
"You can close your eyes if you like," she said finally. He blinked. "I won't be offended, I promise. If you need to think of someone else to, um. Finish."
Is that what she thought? Was she mad?
Maybe, he considered, his mouth drawing in a firm line, that's what she'd planned on doing so she could withstand him. He knew her sudden arousal was too good to be true.
He grunted and lifted his hips. Perhaps quick is best, he mused.
x
She gasped after he pumped up and waited for her to get the hint. She got it alright, returning to riding him. She had no idea what she'd said to piss him off, but he wasn't as uninhibited as before. She preferred him to groan and squirm under her, not this, watching intently, furiously as she lifted and dropped her pelvis. She felt like she was stirring a potion under his relentless scrutiny.
Whatever, she thought. If he was going to lie there like a lump, she may as well enjoy this. So she gathered her feet up under her into a deep squat, and began to hammer him. Or, rather, have him hammer her.
The deep, fast thrusting did it for her. She opened her mouth and lifted her head, feeling her hair brush against the small of her back. She knew she wasn't going to come, but some pleasure was better than nothing.
x
It appeared Ms. Granger was intent on making him reach completion as fast as possible. Worse, it was working. Even worse than that, fast was what he'd requested to begin with. He wished he had a time turner so he could slap himself the moment those words left his mouth.
He was close. So bloody close. It wasn't much the new position that did it, though it certainly didn't help matters. It was her. Her mouth opened, the moans escaping those plump, pink lips, the bounce of her tits.
He briefly wondered who she might be imagining, but at that moment, he felt his bollocks constrict. His body, seemingly without his permission, thrusted up into her in time to her movements.
She shrieked and gasped. "Severus," she murmured, her eyes closed. She leaned back and he felt himself slide in deeper.
He came with an unmannerly growl, grabbing a breast as he pumped up as hard as he could.
x
She leaned her body back upright, then put her hands on his chest. He still had his hand on her breast— oh god, that move of his almost pushed her over the edge— but sadly, he dropped it. She finally let herself glance at him.
He looked delicious, his hair disheveled, his lips swollen, his gaze lazy. He smiled and it nearly melted her.
She felt his cock shrink inside. Right, she told herself. This is done. Until next month. She pulled away from him. "I know you have a lot to do," she said, grabbing her knickers. "I won't keep you." She made to slide off the bed, but he grabbed her arm.
"You didn't…"
She paused, furrowing her brow. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That. Yeah, that, ah. Don't worry about it, okay? It usually takes a great deal of foreplay. Like, sometimes up to an hour. You don't have time for that and anyway, I can take care of myself." Fuck, did she just admit to masturbation? She really needed to stop talking.
Wriggling out of his hand, she pulled up her knickers as fast as she could. "I know you don't have a moment to spare so it's best if we never worried about that, yeah?" She spun and found her robe, throwing it on. "Besides, it's not a requirement for consummation. It really ought to be, but our government is hardly progressive." Shut up, Hermione, she told herself.
Lifting her head, she found him giving her a look of wonder. She lifted her hand robotically. "Good luck with your research tonight. Thanks for the, ah, sex." Cheeks burning, she flew out of his room.
x
She'd moaned his name while her eyes were closed. His name. He hadn't misheard. He certainly would've remembered if she'd uttered someone else's. No, this wasn't a product of wishful projecting. She was thinking of him.
Founders, what on earth was the matter with him? He'd had a willing witch in his bed, dressed in lingerie for him, moaning over him, riding him and how did he repay her? By making her think he scarcely had a second to deal with the burden of fucking her. No wonder she just ran out.
He stood, pulling his pyjamas up. He had to amend this.
He'd never entered her room before, but after knocking, he pushed the door open. White linen sheets covered her bed. In one corner, she'd arranged a reading area, with a wheat-colored chaise longue and a side table piled with books. Books adorned her night table, too, and almost covered her dresser in various stacks. He nearly smiled, pleased at the sight of her academic devotion. He truly couldn't have done any better than convincing Hermione Granger to marry him.
"Did I forget something?" she asked. Finally, he drew his eyes to her. She was still dressed in that bloody thin robe, though he noticed the knickers and lace top were tossed on the floor. Perhaps she was about to get in the bath. If so, his timing was magnificent.
But where to start? He sighed. Perhaps, for being such a bloody wanker, he ought to begin with the truth.
"I've only been with two women before," he said. She furrowed her brow as he continued. "The last was nearly twenty years ago. It's been a long, long while and those experiences were… humiliating." He paused, taking a few steps toward her. "I've no idea how to please a woman. Or so I've been told." He cleared his throat, feeling the prickle of heat on his cheeks. Fuck, he hated this, but it had to be asked. "Perhaps you could teach me?"
Her mouth dropped open. "You want me… to teach you?"
He bit his tongue from forming a scathing remark on her lack of comprehension. "Yes."
She nodded her head immediately. "Yeah. Okay. Yeah."
x
Severus Snape— her husband— was in her bed, waiting for her to tell him how, exactly, to get her off. She pushed away the impulse to pinch herself and took a deep breath.
"What would you like to do to me?" she asked, sitting next to him in the bed.
"Typically, the instructor is the one who gives commands." His tone was a bit on the dry side, but she ignored it.
"Of course. But sometimes, what turns me on the most is the… activity that the partner has been wanting to do. The thing he'd enjoy doing. My last partner, for instance, didn't have a lot of patience for… some… things… and anyway, if he doesn't like it, the other partner can usually tell, and it sort of stalls… release." Her eyes had widened and a blush returned to her cheeks. "Not, of course, to assume you've been wanting to do anything with—"
"Cunnilingus."
She gasped lightly. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me, Hermione." He held a smirk on his face. "Unless you find that unpalatable?"
"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "That's— okay. That sounds good."
x
It sounded better than good. It sounded bloody brilliant, if she were being perfectly honest. She positioned herself on the bed. Taking a deep breath, she opened her robe.
He climbed over her instantly. Though, instead of starting where she thought he would— he did say cunnilingus, after all— he lowered his mouth to her neck, first. Gentle, soft, the barest of kisses. He ran his lips all the way down to her breasts, where he hovered. She whimpered upon feeling his hot breath on her left nipple.
"May I?" he said. She nodded, arching her back the moment his tongue lapped at her nipple. After a few gentle licks, he sucked the pebble in, moving his head to stretch it this and that way. She slid the fingers of her right hand under her hip as she wanted more than anything to rub herself in tune to his tongue. That's how hard she throbbed.
She moaned as he sucked her other breast, feeling the line of hair under his navel brush against her side as he bent lower, taking more of her in.
"Jesus Christ," she groaned. "Whoever told you that you couldn't please a wom— oh, gods, there." Hermione inhaled. "She was a bloody lunatic."
Severus smiled with a mouthful of nipple, causing her back to arch once more.
"Please," she said.
He looked up. "Please what, Ms. Granger?"
She shivered, not minding the teacherly way he addressed her at all. "Please eat me out, Professor." His eyes hooded immediately, and she knew he was into the bit of roleplay, as well. He lowered himself to her cunt and gave a light swipe to her clit.
"Gods," she said, gasping. He licked her again, dropping to his forearms, moving his wet, warm, and fucking incredible tongue over her in an intoxicating, circular motion.
x
Hermione Granger tasted like dry wine and salted caramel. Her cunt was utterly delectable, and he tilted his head a touch, dragging more of his tongue over her, trying to get more of her in. She jerked her hips up against him, grinding. He looked up at her heaving breasts and opened mouth and felt his hard-as-a-bloody-rock cock give a twitch.
He took her clit into his mouth as he'd done to her nipples. She nearly flew off the bed. "I'm close," she screeched, grabbing the sheets. "Put your fingers in me, please, Severus."
Again, with his name. Again, with his cock twitch. He slipped two fingers in— she did use the plural— and stoked in a few different directions, until he found a spot that made her yell, "There, there! Don't you fucking stop!"
He almost laughed. As though he would. With her clit still firmly between his lips, he kept curling his fingers in her, until she spasmed, choking his name in a breathless, almost unintelligible scream.
x
She couldn't remember the last time she'd come so hard. If she'd ever come so hard. She gazed down at him as he pushed up to his knees, his face almost unreadable, except for the hint of a pleased smirk.
Lowering her eyes to his massive erection, she smiled. "You want me."
"I want no one else." His response was firm and her mouth dropped.
"Fuck me, Severus," she said. "Once more."
He ascended over her, sliding inside her fast and hard, making her moan into his mouth as he covered hers with a kiss. "I'll have you know, my wife," he said, thrusting, "that I plan on having you infinitely more times than once."
She laughed. "I rather like the sound of that, dear husband."
Her laughter quickly turned to moans as he made good on his word.
Do let me know if you have any requests for pairs. I'm up for just about anything (except for maybe matching anyone with the Sorting Hat haha).