Work Text:
Bruises covering the expanse of my neck.
Professor Snape has very big, strong hands.
My voice rasping with every word I spoke, throat still sore from his rough pace.
The grip he had on my hair as he forced me down on his cock leaving my head aching in the same rhythm.
With every step I took, I begged in my mind that no one else notice the limp I swore I could feel.
Every step was a remainder of how badly my core ached, insides pulsing in tune with my headache.
Still, I went about my day as I would any other. Smile on my face, glad for the biting wind as it gave me an excuse to wear a scarf, going to my classes as I would on a normal day. Potions being my last class of the day.
Professor Snape’s stare feeling like it was piercing through me, making every ache in my body pulse even harder. I avoided his eyes, knowing my stubbornness would mean nothing in the end, knowing tomorrow would be the exact same. After all, I had detention again that evening.
