A/N okay everyone first things first. I've put some feelers out on what's acceptable here and what's not and I think we will be ok. If this story suddenly disappears, you can find it by the same name and author on archive of our own (henceforth known as ao3). /works/11729823/chapters/26428227)
Cloudshape- you bring up lots of great stuff. Hermione specifically asked her friends to respect her privacy when it comes to snape and the first thing they did is violate it. Considering that ron is an ex that she still has a little baggage with along with everything this is a huge violation of her privacy and of her trust. Her reaction is complicated. If you notice, when she realizes how hurt her feelings are she is able to 'turn them off' in a way. This is when the dark side of her nature emerges. notice the suddenly cold tea. it's when she is in this state that she wants to cut ties with them. when she sees Ginny's tears she is able to bring herself back, so to speak. That's when she is able to forgive them. Yes, they should trust Snape but trusting him to be loyal to the light and trusting him not to perv out and manipulate Hermione are two very different levels of trust. and their distrust isn't entirely unfounded. Hermione and Snape's relationship is highly inappropriate and potentially harmful to Hermione. (for more details refer to Snape's letter) The point Hermione is making is one about her autonomy. It isn't about whether or not they trust snape, it's about them respecting her autonomy. As for why people hated Snape in the old days, it wasn't just that he was poor, creepy, and socially awkward. It was that he was 'up to his eyeballs in dark magic.' If you stick with me in part 2 of this tale we will dive into that.
thank you all for the lovely comments, and feel free to ask for clarification on anything. As this is a fanfic and will never be commercial, I'm not doing any editing, so: mistakes will be made, others will be blamed.
Hermione sips her tea and studies the kitchen. It is like the rest of Snape's house - from what she has seen- old and full of books. He is sprawled in the chair across from her at the kitchen table. Hermione can't stop staring at him. His posture, his clothes, his bare feet. It's so un-snapelike. To her, anyway. She has never seen him more at ease. His expression, though relaxed, is unreadable.
"What are you thinking?" she asks hm.
"That I like having you here. What are you thinking?"
"I'm wondering which Snape is the real one," she says, sipping her tea. It's lovely.
He raises his eyebrows at her. Really? He brings one foot up onto the chair underneath him and rests his chin on his knee. His other foot still rests on the floor. He looks at Hermione.
"They're all you," she says.
He nods.
"You're a complicated man," she says.
"All intelligent people are complicated, love. It's the nature of the beast. What are you staring at? My chin?"
Hermione blushes. "Your knee." His jeans are torn open at both knees. His chin is resting on the pale white skin of his knee and she is fascinated by the sight it. "I'm not used to being able to see so much of you."
"I'm really not much to look at." He says it matter of fact, neither self conscious nor conceited.
"Au contraire, my love," Hermione counters, "You are a feast for my eyes."
His eyebrows go up in surprise. "Do you?"
"Love you?" she says, catching his meaning. Her heart is pounding. "Most ardently, Severus Tobias Snape."
"And I am in love with you, Hermione Jean Granger. But you already knew that." He looks almost sad as he says it.
"I hoped," she replies. And then, before she can lose her nerve, "Are you afraid to make love to me?"
"Yes," he says. Uncharacteristically, he won't look at her.
"Look at me Severus."
He looks up at her, bearded chin still on his knee.
"Tell me why."
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I have it in my head- I think- I know what you need from me. But I've never done anything like it before."
Hermione sets her tea down and goes to stand in front of Severus. She motions for him to put his foot back on the floor and he complies. She puts one hand on his shoulder to steady herself and slides into his lap, straddling him. It's not the same as straddling him on the couch.
It's much, much better. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her tight against him with a low growl. She feels him become hard underneath her. He winces a bit. Wordlessly, she shifts a little for him so he can adjust. He reaches into his pants and adjusts himself with a practiced motion, then puts his hand on her hip.
"Thank you, sweetheart," he says. In this position, she is about an inch taller than he is. She tips her head down slightly and puts her lips on his.
She is hesitant at first, and it is difficult for Severus to not take control of the kiss. But when she runs the tip of her tongue along his lip and feels him throb in response, she grows bold. Soon she is pressing into him, rocking her hips against him and devouring his mouth. Her kiss, though unpracticed, is effective.
Severus knows he should let her experiment, but he isn't a bottom. He's reaching his limit on letting her have her way with him, no matter how pleasant her hips feel grinding on his cock.
He reaches a hand up to her face, stroking her cheek and caressing her neck soothingly before taking a fistful of hair. Just as she did on his desk all those months ago, she gasps with pleasure, breaking off the kiss. He pulls her head back, exposing her neck to him.
"You will tell me if this gets too intense for you," he growls. "You will tell me if you don't like it. You will tell me if you want me to stop."
"Yes, sir,"
"Good girl," he says, and fists her hair tighter to test her response.
"Ow," she says, but she grinds her hips into him.
"Does 'ow' mean no?"
"No," she says. "Don't stop, Severus. Please don't stop."
You are fucking perfect. He trails a line of rough kisses down her neck, deliberately scratching her with his beard. As before, whenever he scratches her or tightens his grip on her hair, her hips flex open for him. Her moans are music to his ears, honest, unpracticed, completely uncontrived. Her chest is heaving, her nipples are hard.
"May I touch your breasts, sweetheart?"
"Please," she whispers, trembling in anticipation. He is using his gentlest tone with her, which is completely at odds with the way he is handling her. The juxtaposition makes both more intense. She feels those long elegant fingers slide under the bottom of her blouse. He sets his hand on her ribcage, right under her lace-covered breast. His lips have made it down to her collarbone. His other hand is still fisted in her hair, holding her head back firmly.
He runs his thumb over the underside of her breast. Her gasps have turned to heavy moans by this time and he can sense she is almost weeping. She can't take much more. He cups her breast in his hand and sweeps his thumb over her small, hard nipple.
"Severus!" Hermione cries. She moves her head, trying to get it free. He lets go of her hair and stops the assault on her neck. His right hand still cups her breast, thumb still stroking her nipple idly.
"How are you doing, beautiful?" He asks her softly.
She puts her hands around his neck. "Good. Kind of overwhelmed. I don't know. I need- I don't know." She is flustered, squirming in frustration.
"You need to come," he says.
She blushes gloriously.
"I'll make you come soon, I promise. Can you stay with me a little longer?"
She nods.
"Hands over your head," he says, and she obeys. He slips the lovely cream colored blouse over her head. Hermione is wearing a lace bra in off white, and inside the bra are the most perfect pair of tits Severus has ever seen. He cups them in both hands reverently before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra.
"Lean back and put your elbows on the table," he says, his eyes never leaving her breasts. She complies, and as she does he pulls the straps of her bra off her shoulders and down her arms, setting it aside. When she settles back with her elbows on the table, her breasts are thrust forward in his face. Fucking perfection.
He takes both her nipples gently between his fingers, not pinching or tugging. Then looks back up into her face. Her eyes are hooded and her face is flushed with arousal.
"Still with me?" he asks her.
She groans and thrusts her hips against his cock in response.
Severus, chuckles, still holding her hard nipples. "I need a yes from you, sweetheart."
"Yes, sir," she says, gives him a little smile.
"Good girl," he says, and pinches her right nipple.
She jumps in his lap and yelps. He releases her nipple from the grasp of his thumb and forefinger and bends to take it in his mouth.
"Fuck, Severus," says Hermione when she feels his tongue against her nipple.
He repeats the process on her other nipple. This time when he pinches her she jerks but doesn't jump, and when he bends his head down she thrusts her nipple up into his mouth, meeting him halfway. He takes his time with it in his mouth.
He finally releases her nipple from his mouth with a little pop. "You are a goddess, Hermione," he says to her, "Will you let me eat your pussy?"
Her mouth falls open in surprise.
Severus runs his hands up and down her bare back, trying to comfort her and ratchet down some of the tension. "Has anyone ever gone down on you before, Sweetheart?"
She shakes her head. Severus makes a mental note to kill Weasley.
"Please will you let me?" he asks, showering her breasts with small light kisses. "I'm pretty sure you will like it. You need to come."
"Of course you can, Severus. You don't have to ask me," Hermione says.
"Au contraire, my love," he replies, stopping the kisses to look at her. "I will always get your permission for something we haven't done before." He pats her hip gently. "Stand up."
She complies, a bit wobbly. He steadies her against the table. His hands go to the button on her jeans. He pauses. Looks up at her.
"Please take them off me," she says. She's starting to figure him out. She knows what he likes to hear.
"Thank you Hermione," he says, thumbing open the button on her jeans and unzipping them with casual, practiced ease. "Giving me your consent is the sexiest fucking thing you can do." He pulls her jeans and panties down past her hips in one swift movement. She is bare to him now, but he isn't looking at her pussy.
He's looking up at her face, his expression quite serious. He stands up, puts his hands on her hips, lifts her up onto the table. Then he sits back down and begins to slide her pants off her legs. All the while, his eyes haven't left hers. "Do you know what the sexiest word you can say to me is? Do you know what will make me hard every time?"
Severus tosses Hermione's pants to the floor. She is naked on his kitchen table, sitting primly, legs pressed together.
"Do you know the word?" he asks her, standing up, eyes on hers.
"Yes," she says, and spreads her legs for him.