|snarryswapmod (snarryswapmod) wrote in snarry_swap,|
@ 2008-01-17 12:00:00
|Entry tags:||creation: fic, gin_tonic, rated: nc-17|
Happy Daft Day, cnary_crem_dght!
Title: He's Dreaming of Detention
Word Count: 2,000
Highlight for Warnings: *dub-con, spanking, Harry's 17, AU as of HBP*
Prompt/Summary: You wanted: included detentions, spanking, UST, maybe dub-con, and an unsure partner.
Harry has to serve detention with Snape once again, but somehow the situation gets out of hand and quickly develops into something that has nothing to do with cutting up Flobberworms.
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: I'm not sure if I managed to fulfil your prompt wholly, but I hope you will like the result anyway!
A big thanks to my betas A & M! I can count myself lucky to have you.
"Mr Potter. Get in here this instant. I will not have you dawdling this evening, for I have better things to do than spend my evening supervising one of your detentions - again," Snape snarled and pointed crisply at one of the desks in the Potions classroom where a bowl of Flobberworms and a knife were already waiting for him.
Harry bit back his retort. He doubted very much that Snape did have anything to do but torment his students - Harry in particular - especially since he suspected very much that Snape was enjoying this. Harry hadn't done anything to deserve this, anyway. All he had done was stare at Snape's hands for a split second - and only because they were disgusting with all their stains and not at all because they looked so long and flexible. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't seen how Neville had slipped and had basically thrown the Aconite through the whole classroom. And it certainly wasn't his fault that he had failed to keep said Aconite from landing in his cauldron. So what if it had bubbled over?! It wasn't like a couple of cleaning charms hadn't done the trick.
Besides, he didn't know why they assigned tasks like this - Harry looked down at the Flobberworms with disgust - to seventh year students.
"Because, Potter, there are some seventh year students who, despite taking a N.E.W.T. Potions class, are not able to do anything but slice and dice those worms. Though I doubt you will be doing even this correctly."
Harry glared intently at the worms and tried not to look up at Snape again. He didn't know if he had just voiced his thoughts out loud or if he had been staring at Snape and allowing him to use Legilimency. It didn't matter though - the event itself was embarrassing enough.
Harry set to work. All he had to do was grab the worm, hold it to the slat and start slicing. And he had to ignore the slime and the goo that was squirting out of the thing, but who didn't like to have green-splattered robes?
Harry glanced up at Snape. The man was working at his overly large desk, probably marking essays. Harry could see him dipping a feather into red ink over and over again - how was it possible that someone could hold a feather in such an obscene way?
Harry shook himself. No, he was not going there. Not again. It had been bad enough to be caught by Ron moaning Snape's name in the middle of the night - he had, of course, explained to Ron that he had had a nightmare and had prayed that the other one wouldn't notice the tent his cock had built in his sheets. He certainly didn't need thoughts like these while sitting in the same classroom as Snape!
Harry added a cut worm to the ones that were already in the bowl.
But the dream had been good, Harry remembered. So vivid and realistic and ... He didn't even notice that he had stopped slicing, just kept staring and thinking of that night. In his dream he had been lying in his bed just like every night, except the other beds hadn't been occupied. In the dream he had been dozing off, wandering on the thin line between being awake and being asleep, when the door of the room had slowly opened. At first he hadn't recognised who had come in; he had just noticed that both of them were naked and terribly aroused.
Harry had moaned and arched, offering himself to the man, who had then climbed onto Harry's bed and had started to lick Harry's cock. But even in his dream Harry had known that he wanted - needed - more than just the touch of those fantastic lips and he had begged until the man had looked up. And then he had realised it was Snape who had his mouth around him, who had just pushed a finger into his arse, and he had moaned -
Only to be awakened by Ron. The bastard had destroyed one of the best dreams Harry had had in ages, but had also saved Harry from the embarrassment of coming with Snape's name on his lips.
"Mr Potter!" Snape's bellow pulled Harry roughly out of his thoughts and again he blushed again. "Care to tell me why you have been staring at me like the lunatic you are instead of working like you are supposed to be?"
Harry kept his tongue in check and refused to look up from the desk in front of him, where a worm was oozing its slime all over the slat. He would not react, he wouldn't do anything, he would -
Snape grabbed Harry's chin and jerked his head up until their eyes met. Harry supposed he should have felt something - anything - that marked the intrusion, but the only thing that changed was the knowing, nearly smirking flicker in Snape's black eyes. Harry wrenched his head away and shouted, "That is none of your business, you bastard!"
"I will not allow that cheek, Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor!"
Harry had enough. Who did Snape think he was?! Breaking into his thoughts and then taking points! He couldn't ... just because Harry had dreamt, had thought ... Snape just couldn't treat him like that!
"I'm seventeen! You can't treat me like a little boy!" Harry shouted, his fists balled at his side.
"Au contraire, Mr Potter. You will see that I very much can and very much will," Snape hissed, seething with what seemed to be anger. "Now bend over that table."
With a swish of Snape's wand Harry's trousers and boxers fell to the ground, leaving his arse bare and on display for Snape. Harry couldn't keep himself from shaking. Out of fear, he told himself ferociously. It was fear that made him shake like this! Harry clenched his teeth and tried not to think of what was going on in Snape's sick head. Snape. A frazzle of the dream flickered through his mind.
"Now, Mr Potter, what am I going to do with you? Bad little boys need to be punished, isn't that correct?"
Harry willed himself not to react to Snape's drawl or the draft of air that touched his buttocks as the other man moved. And then he felt a hand on his arse and he couldn't think anymore. Every ounce of thought had left his head and his blood was rushing through his body.
"Is that what you want, Potter?" Snape's breath ghosted over Harry's neck, and Harry couldn't contain that shudder anymore. "Too bad." And then, as suddenly as it had come, the hand was gone - only to come back with a smack.
Harry yelped. Snape had hit him!
"What -?" Smack. "Snape!" Smack. "Stop!" Harry shouted as his hips were pressed against the hard wood with each new smack. It hurt and tears were shooting to his eyes and yet he couldn't help but feel how his cock hardened. Then a moan broke loose from Harry's lips.
"Enjoying yourself?" Snape's hand stopped. "That, Potter, is what will happen to bad little boys like you." He pressed his hand against Harry's arse, drawing a pained hiss out of him, before starting to move it up and down Harry's crack. The motion was surprisingly gentle. "Now tell me, Potter, about that dream of yours. Isn't this what you wanted?"
Harry shook his head.
"Please, Sir, I -" he moaned as Snape's fingers circled his hole before moving on to his perineum, "I'm not... I don't -"
"Keep telling yourself that, Potter. It won't make this less real. Besides, you are hard as a rock."
"That's your fault!" Harry gritted out. Would he have been able to look at Snape's face, he would have seen the raised eyebrow. "I don't want this!"
"Is that so?" Then a whispered incantation, and suddenly, a slick finger thrust into Harry's hole. Harry gasped and grabbed at the desk. "Then why are you pushing back against my fingers?" In. Out. In. Out. Oh God! It felt so much better when someone else was doing this. "You want this, Potter. Don't even try to deny it, you little slut." That word brought Harry back from wherever he was floating on pleasure.
"I'm not a slut!" he protested and tried to turn around, but Snape held him firmly to the desk.
"Then why are you letting yourself be fingered by your Potions Professor?" Snape sounded smug as he quickly entered a second, slick finger. "You are a needy little fuck, Potter, and you want this so much your cock is leaking! You would come if I ran my hand over your prick now, wouldn't you?" Harry would, but he wasn't about to tell Snape that. A third finger found his way inside him.
"Stop it, I -"
"What, Potter?" Snape whispered another incantation, making all the buttons on Harry's shirt slip through their holes, leaving Harry's chest bare to Snape's imploring hand. It quickly found Harry's nipples and started playing with them. "Are you a virgin?"
"Thought so." Snape pulled his fingers out. "Maybe you'll finally be able to learn something in my classroom then." And with that he pushed his cock in.
It burned and the stretching was unbelievable. Feeling Snape there, moving, still pressing, was weird, foreign, and Harry started to struggle slightly. Suddenly Snape jerked his hips and a feeling shot through Harry, making his toes curl and his fingers flex.
"Aah!" Harry gasped and Snape chuckled, starting to move in a quick, but steady rhythm. Harry clawed at the desk when slowly the burning passed and changed into an incredible feeling of pleasure that wracked gasps and moans from his body.
"That's it, Potter, take it!" Snape groaned, grabbing at Harry's shoulders and pushing harder into him.
It was too much, Harry thought. Too much, too hard, too fast to control himself, to think. He started pushing back, trying to get more of that glorious feeling and didn't even register Snape's smug chuckle. Harry lifted his hand to reach down and grab his cock, but Snape grabbed it and held it to the desk.
"Please, I need -" Harry started to beg.
"You need nothing but my cock in your tight, little arse, Potter," Snape growled, accenting his words with vicious, hard thrusts that made Harry's knees buckle, "Now come, my pretty slut. Come!"
One, two, three thrusts and a burning hot rush flooded Harry's body. Harry came with Snape's name stumbling over his lips and slumped down onto the desk, while Snape kept thrusting into him. Snape came before Harry even recovered from the haze of satisfaction and post-orgasmic relaxation.
When Snape's cock pulled out, Harry didn't dare to move. The feeling of sudden emptiness and the wish for it not to be like that was too weird and too disturbing, and he feared what would happen once he got up and wiped away the dripping remnants of what had just happened.
"Get up, Potter, and get dressed." Snape's voice was harsh and only the slight rasp was witness to the fact that something had just happened between them. Harry bit his lip and stood, trying not to look at Snape. What must the man think of him now? He had enjoyed it just as Snape had said he would. Was he a slut then? He didn't think he was, but he had just been fucked by Snape and it had been good.
Too good, in fact. Harry scowled at the floor as he bent down - slowly, slowly, damn, he was sore! - to pick up his trousers. Too good to just let it go when a fantasy of his had just been fulfilled, even though he had wished it to be slightly different.
Still, the effect was the same, and Harry knew that he had to do something. He had to make Snape see that he wasn't just some slut, that he was worth something. And there was only one thing that would ensure that he would spend more time with Snape: Detention. And Harry knew just the right way to get another one.