#any positive words and feelings are just to lull me into false sense of safety and then abruptly abandon me

[katyspersonal]

Fears that I've been repressing and not addressing, telling myself to stand tall and "not show weakness", started to slip into my nightmares.

I just want to crawl under my blanket and cry, cry, cry until I've cried myself to sleep... and wake up in a better parallel world, where my paranoia is not eating me alive, where I can feel trust and comfort.

[zodiakuroo]

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?) 

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here 

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less. 

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God? 

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed. 

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right? 

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he  felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right. 

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word. 

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape. 

You could only dream of being so lucky. 

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.” 

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.” 

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.” 

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” 

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice. 

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further.  “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist. 

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you. 

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.” 

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter. 

You should have lied. 

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.” 

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.” 

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them. 

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller. 

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.” 

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi. 

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette. 

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration. 

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief. 

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them. 

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck. 

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?” 

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper. 

“Better.” 

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you. 

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles. 

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating. 

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly. 

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately. 

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.  

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

 “I said in a minute.  Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted.  Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

 “You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch. 

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle. 

You feel so full. 

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation. 

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel. 

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there. 

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you.  What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said 

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”  

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank. 

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.”  Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute. 

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you. 

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be. 

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes.  “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

 “Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

[awkwardlyflustered]

Soft Spots

A/N: Alright, so for the first time in a while I don’t have any prompts that I need to fill as soon as possible, so I decided to write this fic. I was really fucking sore the other day, and while wallowing in self-pity cuz owie, muscles hurt, I came up with this idea. You can ask a lot of people, and they will tell you that it took forever for me to figure out a pairing for this, so thank you @im-absolutelee-ticklish and @flusterd-screaming for helping me out with that. Now, without any more of my rambling, please enjoy the fic.

Rich sat in the stands of the gym, scrolling through his phone, patiently waiting for Jake to be done with practice so they could hang out. After a little while Jake walked up to the stands, showered and ready to go. Rich smiled up at him.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Jake smiled and nodded in response. They lock hands and start walking out of the school out to Jake’s car. Rich quickly popped into the passenger seat, and watched as Jake struggled to bend down into the driver’s seat grimacing the entire time. 

Rich looked at him with concern. “You okay?” Rich checked on Jake, putting his hand on top of Jake’s. Jake nods with his charming smile.

“Yeah, I’m just a little sore from all of the workouts I’ve done this week,” Jake reassured, squeezing Rich’s hand. Rich nodded in understanding, having experienced that position a few too many times.

“When we get home I can give you a massage if you want,” Rich offered, not letting go of Jake’s hand. Jake smiled at Rich with adoration.

“That sounds great, thanks,” Jake thanked, giving Rich a quick peck on the cheek, before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Once they leave the school Rich starts flipping through radio channels to find a station both of them would like. After a little bit of searching, Rich found a station that both him and Jake started singing along to at the top of their lungs.

After a couple of songs, and lots of laughter the two boys arrived at Rich’s house. Once again, Rich got out of the car with ease, and Jake had great difficulty, grimacing as he got out. Rich walked into the house and immediately flopped onto the couch, and waited for Jake to join him, eagerly patting the seat in front of him.

“Come here, I’ll make you feel really good,” Rich said, wiggling his eyebrows. Jake looked at Rich, rolled his eyes, smiled, then sat in front of Rich. “Alright, where are you most sore?” 

“Umm… probably my legs,” Jake said with a shrug, “But I’m honestly just happy that you’re gonna give me a massage, I don’t really care where it is.” 

“Here, turn around, and put your legs in my lap,” Rich instructed. Jake did as he was told and turned so his thighs were resting in Rich’s lap. Rich started gently massaging Jake’s thighs. Jake inhaled sharply as soon as Rich started squeezing his thighs. Rich stopped immediately. “Shit! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Rich asked, panicking slightly. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me, I was just surprised, you can keep going,” Jake reassured Rich, placing a hand on his shoulder, lovingly. Rich nodded and started squeezing Jake’s thighs again. Jake clenched his fists and bit his lip, to try and keep from tensing his legs and letting any sound out of his mouth. Rich was oblivious to Jake’s attempts to stay silent and just continued the massage. After another ten minutes of Rich trying to be nice, and Jake miraculously staying silent, Rich stopped the massage. 

“Anywhere else sore?” Jake nodded tentatively and cautiously put his feet in Rich’s lap, giving him puppy dog eyes. Rich smiled and began massaging Jake’s feet. Shit, Jake forgot how ticklish his feet were. He was squirming and giggling in minutes. Rich’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. “Ticklish?” Jake blushed and nodded.

“Just a little,” he mumbled out. Rich gwaffed at Jake.

“A little?” Rich dragged a single finger up Jake’s arch, which earned him a loud yelp, and the absence of two feet in his lap. “Heyyyyyyy,” Rich whined, “Put those back. I was having funnnnnnn.” Jake sat with his knees to his chest, curled up in his protective little ball.

“Noooooo,” Jake imitated playfully, “You’re gonna tickle meeeeeeee.” Rich huffed air at him.

“I know I am, but I can’t do that if you’re in a ball.” Jake’s face turned redder than a cherry, and he buried his face into his knees. Jake gave out a muffled, ‘shut up,’ trying to cover as much of his face as he could. Rich laughed at Jake and pulled the ball of his boyfriend into his lap. “Awww look at you, come here tall ass,” Rich said lovingly, squeezing Jake tightly. Jake laughed a little at the obnoxious nickname, and still a little wary, slowly let himself get lulled into a false sense of safety. As soon as he uncurled Rich started ghosting his fingers along Jake’s toned abs. Jake was giggling even at the littlest touch. He tried to curl back into his ball, but Rich already snuck his hands under Jake’s shirt and was poking away. Rich was positively delighted at the noises he was able to evoke from Jake. Jake was a squirmy, giggly, blushy mess in seconds. 

“Nohohohohohoho Rihihihihihihihihich plehehehehehehease!” Jake squealed with giggles, gently trying to paw Rich’s hands away from his sensitive skin. Rich laughed right along with his boyfriend, nimbly moving his hands every time Rich tried to move them away. He went from place to place, loving the sounds Jake would make. He would make a whole array of snorts, squeals, giggles, and hiccups. Rich absolutely loved every single second of it. Once he had explored every inch of Jake’s ticklish stomach, he moved on to Jake’s ribs. He began poking and kneading all along the bones. Jake started squirming a lot more, and his giggles became much more frantic.

“Bad spot?” Rich teased, shaking his hands into as much of Jake’s ribs as he could cover. Jake nodded, his face scrunched up adorably, and care-free giggles were pouring out of his mouth. “Hey Jake, how many ribs do people have?” Jake’s eyes widened at that, and he started squirming around a lot more.

“Twehehehehehehenty fohohohohohour!” Rich smirked at Jake, and paused his hands, still keeping them resting on Jake’s ribs.

“Twenty-four? Really? I could have sworn it was twenty-six.” Jake shook his head wildly.

“N-no it’s twenty-four. You can look it up.”

“Oh I have a better way of finding out,” Rich teased deviously, making Jake squirm under his hands, “Oh, and Jake, you better be careful to not squirm too much, or I’ll have to start allllllll over again.” 

“No that’s so mean thoughhhhhh,” Jake whined, a playful smile still on his face.

“I’m a nice guy though,” Rich continued on, ignoring Jake’s comment, “And I love you which means I’ll be even nicer to you, I’ll do them in pairs so it goes quicker for you.” Jake blushed bright red again, and nodded. Rich waited another two minutes to start, just because he loved watching Jake squirm in anticipation. As soon as the first pinch was laid onto his ribs Jake squeaked, actually squeaked. Which in turn caused Rich to double over in laughter. Jake buried his face away again, and gave a muffled, ‘shut up.’ Once Rich had recovered from his laughing fit, he went back to pinching both sides of Jake’s ribs. “Two… four… si- looks like we’ll have to start over,” Rich laughed maniacally, as Jake whined and squirmed again. Rich started the counting and the pinching over again, and Jake did his absolute best to stay in place. Despite how well he was managing to stay in place, he couldn’t stop the child-like giggles that were escaping him. Rich had to start over a couple more times, but after a while managed to get through all twenty-four ribs. “Huh, look at that, you were right, twenty four ribs.” Jake nodded, and blushed, the smile from all the laughing still stuck on his face. “Now, I don’t think I know where you’re most ticklish, are you gonna tell me, or do I have to find it?” Rich asked, in a teasing manner, petting Jake’s hair soothingly. Jake sat there and contemplated it for a bit before answering.

“If I tell you will you stop tickling me for now?” Rich gave a small bit of conformation, still stroking Jake’s hair. Jake nodded and mumbled something out inaudibly, causing Rich to poke his sides. “M-my neck,” Jake mumbled out, protecting his sides. Rich smiled at Jake with adoration. He started putting gentle pecks all along Jake’s neck, causing Jake to giggle, all while poking at Jake’s tummy and sides. After a couple minutes of that, he started peppering just the back of Jake’s neck with kisses and gently traced his fingers along Jake’s collar bone, and the sides of his neck. Jake was howling with laughter from all of the light touches to his neck. His shoulders were scrunched up to his ears so tightly it almost looked like he didn’t have a neck. 

“RIHIHIHIHIHIHCH FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK!”

“Oh, is that a bad word? That needs to be punished,” Rich taunted before blowing raspberries all over Jake’s neck. Jake’s laughter immediately went silent and he tried to escape from Rich’s evil hold, but Rich held onto him tight. Once Jake seemed properly tired out Rich let him go. Jake began to catch his breath and just layed on top of Rich, the two of them spread out on the couch. “You alright?” Jake yawned and nodded. “You wanna watch a movie?” Jake nodded and cuddled into Rich. Rich smiled at Jake with a look that is reserved for only the people you love the most, and turned on a movie. Within minutes Jake had fallen asleep. Rich leaned down and kissed Jake’s forehead, whispering, “goodnight tall ass,” before drifting off himself.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty-One | Sacrifice] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ]

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“All right...there we are.” Gathering up the mixture of herbs, spices, and tea leaves, Ryū carefully bundles them in some cloth, tied shut with a ribbon. “Whenever a nightmare strikes, brew this in hot water and drink. It will ease your mind and urge your body to sleep.”

“Thank you...you’re a blessing, you are.”

The woman just gives a soft smile. “Thank the earth and its bounties, not me. I just know how to use them. Take care of yourself.”

Making his way out, the man plagued by ill dreams takes his leave, dipping his hat to another just making his way in. The second figure lingers a bit stiffly in the doorway, his own hat removed from his head and instead nervously wrung in his hands as he waits for the healer to notice him.

“Oh!” She comes up short, turning and seeing him at last. “I’m sorry - have you been waiting long?”

“No, just a moment. I, er…”

“Has it been a fortnight already? My how the time flies…”

“Yes ma’am, it...it does.”

“May I take a look?”

Nodding, the man comes further into the cabin as she flares the lamp hanging from the rafters. With careful hands, she takes and tilts his face to the light to better examine it.

Along one side, horrible claw marks mar the surface of his skin. Half-healed now, they look clean and healthy.

“They seem to be doing well...you’ve been keeping up with them, then?”

“Yes, ma’am. Every night, and every morning. Like you told me.”

Ryū smiles. “Good. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the day, I’ll have to mix it now. Do you mind a short wait?”

“Not at all. The rain forced us back, so I’ve nothing to do until it dries.”

“Yes, the weather has been something atrocious lately...soon Winter will be here.” Moving about in the one-room cabin, she begins pulling ingredients from drawers and cutting them from hanging samples. A mortar and pestle are taken from their shelf, herbs thrown into its groove to be mashed. “I dread the thought, but...it’s as Nature intends. We’ll be thankful come Spring thaw and planting.”

“Do you ever have a sour thought, Miss Suigin?” the man then dares to ask.

She offers a soft laugh in return. “Oh, I do. But I keep them inside so as not to sour the air, too. I’d much rather make it sweeter.”

“Oh you - you do that just fine.” His lips flicker upwards in an uncertain smile. Was that too forward…?

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” A warm smile lifts her lips, and he finds his chest fluttering. “Mister Uchiha, you’ll make me blush with compliments like that.”

“Well, it’s true! You’re the kindest soul in this little town, and you do well by all of us with your medicines. A kind word is the least I can spare you.”

That seems to leave her without a retort, working at her mixture for a moment in silence. “...I appreciate it. I do dote on everyone. Life out here is harsh, so...any little thing I can do to help folks along is good enough for me. Hardships are easier to face when we work together, and that’s done best with everyone of sound mind and sound body.”

Obito just watches as she goes about her mixing and mashing, wondering for the hundredth time how she knows all she knows. A score of books line a shelf...maybe it’s something written that she follows?

“All right...I think that’s done it. You know enough by now, but I’ll say it for my own peace of mind: take a sample on your finger and run it along each mark until they’re all covered. Let it sit overnight, and for as long as you can stand it in the morning before you wash it off. A few more weeks, and we’ll have those wounds scarred shut. It might not be the prettiest thing, but...it’ll keep the wounds clean and minimize the scarring.” She then gives him a curious tilt of her head. “And the rest of your symptoms?”

“Hardly notice them, ma’am. None of those strange headaches, no flashes of anger. All gone.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you, miss Suigin...truly, I -?”

She waves aside his thanks, having heard it many times before. “I know well enough by now how grateful you are. But save your breath for yourself, and take care. If something goes awry, let me know straight away.”

“I will.”

“Go on, then - get some rest, it will be dark soon.”

Nodding politely, he takes up his medicine and takes his leave. By now the downpour has faded to a light misting, the smell of cold air creeping into the evening. She’s right...Winter is just around the bend, and he still has so much to do before the first snow falls.

Around the corner of the cabin, he doesn’t see a pair of jealous eyes watching him, turning from the window and fading into the dark.

Once home, he lights the lamp by his bed, taking it to the broken mirror he’s got hanging on a wall. Every time he catches sight of his reflection, he has to grimace. Whatever that beast was that attacked him that night...it sure left its mark. But thanks to the village healer’s efforts, the angry red tissue is calming, finally starting to close. The pain is nearly nonexistent now, and the strange feelings he’d felt have all but disappeared.

She really is amazing…

Pushing the thought away as his face warms, Obito carefully unravels the hide the paste she’s made him rests in. It smells oddly spicy, but never stings. Practiced fingers delve into it, watching his reflection to carefully trace it along every mark.

It feels oddly cold...but maybe that’s just because of his prior blush.

Once it’s all in place, he fixes himself some supper to let it dry, lest he smear it on his pillow. The stew he’d left to simmer while out working it’s a bit dry, but edible. The recipes his grandmother taught him before passing have served him well, but...he can’t help but wish he had a wife to do so alongside him.

Traitorously, he thinks again of the healer. Oddly enough, despite what he considers to be great beauty and soothing manners, she’s yet to be married. Part of him wonders if her position keeps most folks at bay, or...if it’s the quiet, lingering superstition about her. While most everyone depends on her concoctions, some find her skill with them...odd. Add in her unique appearance, and some have dared to whisper witch.

But no one has outright accused her, so the clergy of their little village have yet to act. Obito finds the notion ridiculous. Some plants harm, some plants feed, and some plants heal. Knowing the difference doesn’t take otherworldly knowledge, or whispers from the devil. Anyone daring to call her some evil spellcaster would be deeply mistaken. Only has she ever helped the people of their little town, never harmed!

Someday...he might muster up the courage to ask her. But for now, it doesn’t feel proper. His work in the village crop fields earns him a miser’s pay, and his cabin is hardly suitable...it needs work. He’ll only make her an offer once he feels that offer is worthy.

So for now, he’ll sit and sigh at the thought.

He tides up after his meal, gently prodding the poultice to ensure that it’s dry before slipping into bed. He’ll have to do the same routine come morning, then the next night. Over and over until the wounds are fully closed. But he doesn’t mind the effort if it means keeping himself whole.

And getting to see the healer every fortnight for more.

Autumn continues to pass at pace, the weather slowly chilling as Obito and the rest of the farmhands work to bring in the last of the harvests and store them away for winter. Animals too are butchered, salted and dried to cover the long Winter months. It’s often a narrow window that they survive the harshest part of the year. At least one life is typically lost. But they all fare far better together than they would apart.

But two days before he once again needs to visit the healer...something changes.

On his way to the fields, Obito slows as he spots an odd sight. A rather sizable group is gathered outside the local church. It’s not Sunday...they aren’t congregating for that. Then what…?

Trying to weave his way to the front, he realizes the crowd forms a ring around a space just before the doors. And at the center is the pastor...and the healer.

Her face is taut with apprehension. “If I’m to be tried, then I want to face my accuser.”

“So you can hex the poor soul? I think not. They will be kept out of sight for their safety, should you decide to loose the devil upon them. They claim to have seen you practicing the dark arts within your home more than once. These accusations must be heard, and you must be tried for your crimes.”

...oh no…

“I’ve committed no crimes! If mixing plants for a person’s health is a crime, then so is any other harmless task! How many of you have benefited from my work, my knowledge?” She turns imploringly to the crowd, desperation in her eyes.

To Obito’s amazement, not a single soul speaks up, all glancing aside in shame as they refuse to admit it. In his chest, he feels a growing heat of anger.

“Me!”

At once, they all turn to him, parting as he shoves his way forward. “Me, and nearly everyone else! If this woman’s intent was to harm, she would never help us! How many wounds has she patched? How many fevers has she broken? If her intent was to harm...she would never have lifted a finger for us. Half of us would be dead or dying if not for her help. That sounds far less like the work of the devil than it does of an angel.”

Across the gap, her face alights, staring at him hopefully.

“A ruse to cover her tracks,” the priest hisses in retort. “She lulls us into a false sense of safety, of security...while in the dark she conspires with devils and demons! She is cunning...but the eyes of the righteous have seen through her veil!”

Obito’s teeth grit, and he tries to move forward. But arms hold him back, even as he struggles. “Those eyes lie!”

“Throw him in jail to keep him out of the way,” the pastor orders, looking down his nose at Obito. “We cannot let his infatuation with this she-devil interrupt our just and legal proceedings. If God demands a sacrifice to keep our village pure...so be it. Let the trial commence!”

Grunting and yowling as he’s dragged away, Obito does his best to fight back. But it’s one against many, and he’s soon thrown into the singular cell of their little jail.

Hands grip the bars. “Let me out! She’s innocent! Innocent, I tell you!”

The men who dragged him only sneer, turning their backs and shutting the door behind them.

With the slam of the entrance, a sense of finality seems to overcome him. He can hardly escape...and he’s the only one willing to defend her. Surely they’ll convince themselves of her guilt to lay blame on one soul: let her bear their collective sins and be washed away.

No...no!

Slowly, he sinks to his knees, hands still gripping the bars. It’s not fair...how could they do this…?

...he never got to…

The agony of silence and unknowing is torture. The town constable brings him scant meals, refusing to speak as Obito peppers him with questions of the goings-on. A day passes, then another, and another.

That third day, he realizes two things. That he has not been applying her poultice, and that today would have been the day for his next visit. The knowledge clenches his heart. As before, a headache has been creeping up on him, his temper fraying...but that may just be his present circumstances.

He has to get out of here...he has to free her…! But how...how…?!

As the day fades, night slowly blanketing the village...Obito realizes it’s too light. Beyond the single barred window, flickering light begins passing by.

Torches.

Hauling himself up, he gasps as - haloed against the darkness of the woods beyond the village - her cabin goes up in smoke. Hungry flames reach skyward, as if seeking to consume the stars.

“No…!”

Not far from it, a pyre has been erected. And led from the courthouse, fighting and screaming, is Ryū. Hands bound, she’s fitted amongst the kindling and straw to the wooden pole at the center.

They’re going to burn her…!

Rage seems to fill his veins with molten magma, burning from the inside out. Hollering incoherently, he pulls at the bars despite knowing he cannot budge them. Torches are laid at the base of the pyre, and like her home, flames begin to climb.

And then, atop the fiery halo, pale moonlight breaks over the scene as clouds shift aside to bare the full moon.

Like a blow to the head, Obito’s headache reaches a fever pitch. He collapses, clutching his head with a howl of anguish. His entire body seems to pulse with anger and pain. It burns...it burns…!

Outside, the crowd turns to the jail as a ragged wail breaks through the night.

And then, with a shower of stone, the wall bursts forth. Eyes a molten gold, a dark beast crawls from the rubble, teeth bared with a chest-shaking growl.

“Monster!”

“I-it’s come for its mistress!”

Roaring with a flare of spittle and glint of pearlescent teeth, the creature lanches forward as the terrified villagers scatter. He wants to tear, to gut, to destroy!

But first!

With a leap, he reaches the pyre, ignoring the flames and clawing her bounds to shreds. She coughs and wheezes from the smoke, but gestures desperately to the singeing fur of his side.

“O-Obito…!”

But he spares no time for himself, easing her over his shoulder as her form goes limp, too exhausted to stay awake. Lip raised and snarling, he stares down the villagers with their muskets and pitchforks. Oh how he longs to shatter their bones and carve their flesh!

For now, however, there are more important things he must do.

In a half-lope, he lowers to three limbs, one spared to hold her as he flees. A few foolhardy humans try to chase, but he’s swift as the wind, disappearing into the moonlit trees and underbrush. Soon, the only sounds are those of his rushing breath, pluming in the cold as they leave the village behind.

Only once he feels they’re a safe distance does he slow, coming to a stop at the bank of a creek. Gently, he sets her along the sandy shore. A whine crawls up his throat. The hem of her dress is singed, heat blisters along her bare feet where the flames had crept close. As carefully as he can, he urges them into the cool water.

A gasp sounds, and he balks as Ryū suddenly wakes at the feeling. “A-ah…!” Her voice is raw, growling and wincing from the smoke she breathed. Struggling to sit upright, she looks to her feet before her gaze lifts to her companion.

She doesn’t look at all afraid...but rather, sad.

“...I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought I could keep it at bay, but...without your medicine…”

He crouches beside her, head tilting.

“...there was wolfsbane in the poultice. It was treating your wounds, but...also the infection of the beast you were marked by. If they’d closed without you missing a dose, then...it would have been held at bay. But now...there’s nothing I can do. With every turn of the moon, you’ll change. It’s all my fault…”

Ears falling, he lets his snout come to rest at her cheek. It wasn’t you...it was them…! He longs to speak, but can’t muster words in his shifted form.

Rather than retreat, she carefully raises hands to hold his massive jaw. “...your burns…!”

Looking at his side, Obito realizes he was indeed wounded...perhaps this hide is too thick to feel?

Ryū begins urging water up to the melted flesh, earning a flinch. “Sorry, sorry...but we need to keep them clean. I think I can find what I need here to make a poultice…” From the plants along the bank she does her best to make a mash with a clean river rock, tearing the hem of her skirt to bind it. “...it’s not perfect, but...it should help. You’ll bear these marks as a man, too. And all for my sake...but...thank you. You saved my life.”

There’s another careful nuzzle to her throat.

“...they were right, you know.”

He pauses.

“I am a witch,” she admits softly. “But not the kind they believe in. I come from the earth, I know its secrets, I bend them to my will. But never could I harm someone. I’m inspired not by the devil, but by the mother of us all. I knew it was only a matter of time before they accused me. Their beliefs always lead them to the wrong conclusions…”

The pair go silent for a time. The creek serenades them with its gentle trickles.

“...I know not where we’ll go. What we can do. But...we are alive. And come morning, when the moonlight fades, you’ll be a man once more. That, at least, is something. But Winter is fast approaching...we’ll need to be swift.” Gentle hands stroke at the coarse fur of his snout. “...will you go where I go?”

Obito brightens, declining his head in a nod.

“...then together we will go.”

     OKAY...I actually really like this one xD It could be longer but I need to catch up dfkjggh - still managed to hit my 3k goal mark though! Hopefully tonight I can get another one done and be back on track lol      We have a proper werewolf this time, not a Nightwalker werewolf xD And he is ANGER! Do not touch his witchy waifu! Also I didn’t use any other characters cuz...I didn’t know who to use so it’s just the duo this time lol so fill in the blanks any way you want!      Anyway, I have irl things to sit and wait for (and...actually do) so I better run for now, but hopefully I can be back in time to get more done today! Thanks for reading~

[galactibabe]

The Night Comes Down - A Brian May Comfort Fic

Pairing: Brian May x f!reader (but as pals)

Warnings: slight angst, light swearing, alcohol consumption, talk of suicide/self-harm

A/N: I’m having a garbage time and I just need Bri to tell me he’s happy I’m alive.. This is set after BoRhap won their Globes. 

Word Count: 1.65k

You went home with Brian after the Globes, but not for the reason you’ve wanted to since you fell for him all those years ago.

He spotted you, sitting alone, clutching your second glass of wine, looking at the floor and quietly letting the tears fall. His heart just couldn’t let him walk away from you in this extremely vulnerable position, and he knew you trusted him to never judge your emotional days.

He slowly approached you, sitting next to you and leaning his head to your ear to talk over the crowd of people. “Are you alright, love?” he clearly hadn’t noticed you crying, he had only seen you sitting alone. When you looked up to him, your mascara running and your face red, it damn near broke his heart. You didn’t respond, just choked out a small sob, and he set his phone in his lap, pulling you into his chest. He rested his head on yours, rubbing your back, simply letting you cry into his jacket.

“I- I can’t...” you began, clutching the lapels of his suit jacket. He shushed you, sensing you were crumbling right beneath his fingertips and not wanting you to continue hurting yourself even more by talking about your situation.

He ran a hand over your hair, taking a glance around the room to make sure none of the cast were coming around. You had recently become friends with them and he knew you didn’t want them to think of you in a negative light. They had just brought home two stellar awards for the film, you didn’t want them to think you were ruining the night by falling apart in the corner of the room, with Dr. Brian May as your tissue box.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? It’s late, let me take you home, make sure you’re alright?” He pulled away from you, still with your hand grasping his jacket, knuckles white from how tight you were holding on, and used his thumb to attempt to wipe away your tears. They kept coming, though they were a bit slower now from his heartfelt gestures. You gave him a small nod and he patted your cheek. “Wait here, I’ll get a car around, say goodbye to everyone. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and that I’m making sure you get home safe.” You smiled for the first time since you sat down, “That’s not entirely false... thank you, Bri..” He leaned down and briefly kissed the top of your head, rubbing his thumb on your shoulder and leaving you.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell apart again, feeling your only support beam disappear. He wasn’t going to get a car, he wasn’t saying goodbye to the others, he was leaving you here because he was far too old to be dealing with this. The thoughts swirled around your head, your vision blurred from your tears, and your head hung low once again. Your mascara was no longer existent from the crying, any foundation on your cheeks washed away as well.

You looked up and saw Lucy in your vicinity. I can’t let her see me like this, she’ll think I’m such a downer. But just when you thought she’d turn and see you, Brian came into view again, holding her elbow and laughing with her. He leaned down and spoke in her ear. Pulling back, she smiled, hugged him, and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

Brian made his way over to you, pulling a tissue from his pocket and leaning down to wipe the new tears from your cheeks that had made their appearance after he had left to do exactly what he said he would. “Gwil’s staying with me at my place here in LA, but he’s not coming back with us, okay? With how much he looks like me, I’m not his father and it’s not my responsibility to take him home when I leave.” The joke made you laugh, it sounding like a sob but your smile betraying the sound. He stood, taking your hand in his, happy enough he could bring you a bit of joy in these moments and snuck you both out the back door of the room, bringing you to the car out front like he’d promised.

Ever the gentleman he was, opening the door for you and scooping up the small train of your dress as you sat down, placing it on top of your feet so it wouldn’t get caught in the door after he shut it. Getting in the driver’s seat, he slowly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, resting his hand on yours for the journey. It wasn’t romantic in the least, he was happily married, but he was taking care of you in a way you desperately needed. You didn’t care what the label for it was, there was simply pure love in the gesture and you knew you’d never be able to thank him enough for it. 

Soon, you arrived in his driveway. A simple, quaint home for when he spent long periods in the area, whether it be for recording, media days, award shows like tonight, or other things of the sort. He had told you it made more sense financially to buy a small house than spend money on hotel rooms every time he came out this way, which was quite a lot lately. He also didn’t mind the weather contrast to England. It almost became a sort of vacation home for he and Anita to come relax when the rain got to be overwhelming. Family photos lined the walls, of both his kids, grandkids, and Queen. He considered them as much a part of his family as his wife. 

He walked you into the master bedroom in silence, making your face go red at how many times you’d had those thoughts about him. He gestured for you to sit on the bed as he opened a couple drawers, rummaging through what you soon found out to be his and Anita’s things, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a shirt so you didn’t have to stay in the dress all night. Your “thank you” came out almost as a whisper, but he gave a small sound of acknowledgement and continued to pull out more clothes, you’d guessed for himself. Slowly, you made your way into the master bath, admiring the beautifully clean white tile and porcelain sink, and changed into the clothes. 

You came out, with your dress folded in your arms, legs of the sweatpants coming fully over your feet. The sight made Brian laugh, and you swear you’d seen the face of a man in his 30′s again breaking through for that split second. “Look at you! Roll those up, safety, my dear.” he wagged a finger at you, still smiling. These sweats were definitely his. The legs so long that you could sew the ends and turn them into feety-pajamas. You set your dress down and he pat the space on the bed in front of him, “Now, come tell me what’s bothering you, yeah?”

The both of you sat opposite one another, legs crossed, knees touching, his hand resting on yours whenever you had said something that really hurt. He never once interrupted you. He only spoke when you asked him why everyone in your life had left you, why everyone seemed to get tired of you so easily, why you were always a second choice or not even a choice at all. You poured your heart and soul out to Brian through tears that could choke you if you hadn’t been told to breathe by him every few pauses you took. So much so, that you’d admitted to wanting to hurt yourself, to disappear for good, to save everyone else the time they’d be wasting with you. 

That broke him. 

Your eyes flicked up to his, and a single tear fell down his cheek. The thought of losing such a dear friend again? He reached over and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tighter than anyone ever had in your entire life. You felt, if he squeezed you hard enough, all the pieces of your damaged soul would be forced to go back together. He held you, then. For what seemed like hours, but was barely one. The silence spoke volumes. He cared for you in a way you couldn’t understand. More than a friend, but less than a lover. A comfortable, caring space in between. 

Then, he finally spoke. “I’m so sorry...” he gripped you a little tighter, rubbing his hand over your back, wrapping his other hand in your hair. “I’m so deeply sorry that life’s put such a lovely soul like yours, well, through the ringer. You bring so much light to our little family, and having you around truly is a blessing.. I’m so proud of you for still being with us. I’m so happy that you’re still here. You are stronger than you know, love.” he pulled back afterwards, bringing his hand to your cheek and kissing your forehead. He wiped away your tears for the hundredth time tonight, but this time they didn’t fall again. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, him rubbing your back softly, lowly humming what sounded like ‘39 to calm your spirits.

He patted your knee after a bit and moved to get up, forcing you to sit upright. “Tea?” he asked with an outstretched hand. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen, drinking in sweet silence until Gwilym stumbled in through the front door, absolutely sloshed. Sharing soft laughter at his entrance, you helped him care for Gwil and eventually took your place on the plush sofa. The smell of honey and the muffled sounds of Gwil’s light snoring in the room upstairs to lull you to sleep.

[dong-hyucks]

Paradise ; Woojin

Characters: Woojin / Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1.4k+ A/N: this was such a cute request! i hope you like it~ (btw, i kinda deviated from the plot a bit, and it’s also pretty short ;-;) // original photo credit to @havetostudy Admin: CJ

Masterlists

The hands of the clock that you oh-so-begrudgingly glanced at kept moving, like they always had. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Seconds would always turn into minutes, and minutes would turn into hours and hours into days. Currently, you’d been studying for two days, seventeen hours, thirty-six minutes, and forty-eight seconds. A new record. Your vision was starting to blur, and your memories were beginning to bleed into one another, but none of it mattered. You had to ace this test. Standardized exams were the hardest for you, having to sit in a quiet room, no one to talk to, no one to listen to you talk. Difficult, would actually be an understatement.

Your eyes burned as they bored into the glossy paper of the history book, and you almost didn’t hear the specific, meticulous knock on the door. One rap with the knuckle, four with both palms, five with each fist, and one more knock. Eleven taps in total. You could recognize that pattern anywhere. 

“Woojin,” you murmured, a sigh leaving your chapped lips. You were silent for a few minutes, silent and still like you were waiting for some sort of cue. Then, a more forceful thump sounded as he hit the door again. There it was.

“Hey! Are you gonna let me in, or what?! I’m turning into an icicle out here, (Name)!” He laughed, his voice a bit strained from how cold it was. Nonetheless, when you opened the door to greet him, he engulfed you in a large bear hug and shook you from side to side. Drilling a fake smile onto your lips to look at up at him was easy enough, it’s just fooling him that’s the tough part. 

Woojin knew you too well. He sensed something was wrong the moment you let him enter your house. His eyes scanned over your body, and that’s when he realized that everything was out of whack. Woojin saw your bloodshot eyes and the dark circles that had burrowed under them. His sharp inspection caught sight of your paling skin and frail frame. He glanced at your work table, and saw—what must’ve been—at least seven cups of coffee. And, last, he rested his gaze upon the mountainous pile of study sheets and notes that were neatly stacked in the corner of the table. After looking at the big picture, his mouth gaped as he ogled your pitiful area.

“(Name),” he whispered, “why don’t we take a break.” He peered at you, his eyes masking worry with a false shine of joy and excitement. You nodded reluctantly, ever so slightly looking back at the heap of work that was unbelievably crucial to your grade.

He led you up your own stairs, checking on you every step that you went up, just to make sure you wouldn’t trip. Woojin was scared out of his mind. He didn’t know what to think, but he followed his gut—and his gut told him that your bed was the best place you could’ve been. Quietly, he laid you on your plush pillows and soft blankets. Your face became so much more relaxed, and with it, he did the same. 

“Woojinnie,” you simpered, trying your best to persuade him, “can you please turn on the TV?” He wagged a finger at you, and slowly shook his head. The “mom” look didn’t really suit him, but if that’s what it came to, then that’s what it would be. 

“(Name), you and I both know if I turn on the TV, that you’re never going to get any sleep and you’re never going to talk to me,” he chided, “and right now, you need, and I want both of those things.” Not wanting to give in, you tried to withstand the cuteness of Park Woojin … but, to no avail. 

Welcoming him under the covers, the two of you cuddled close to one another. Every so often, he would place kisses on your cheeks, forehead, and if he was feeling daring, right next to your lips. You complained playfully each time a kiss ended, which only caused the peppering to continue. 

“Park Woojin!” You called, voice muffled by the cotton bed sheets, “If you’re going to get that close to my lips, why don’t you just kiss them?” Reaching your hands out to squish his cheeks, you puckered his lips. His snaggletooth was projected in all of its glory, and it made you giggle. 

“I’m too lazy,” he groaned, rolling over so he was no longer facing you, “they’re just so far away.” You scoffed and nuzzled into his back. His shoulders bounced with a silent chuckle as he felt your light breathing tickle his spine. Slowly, you pressed tiny pecks onto his skin, moving your way up to meet the nape of his neck. he shivered, and you huffed out a snort. He turned his body to look at you once more, and you outstretched your arm to run your fingers through his dry hair. To others, it may have felt rough, but to you, each strand felt like a minuscule velvet curtain just waiting to be pulled back.

“Well, so am I,” you grinned, poking your tongue out, “but, me? I’m lazy all the time. So, I guess no more kisses from me to Park Woo—” 

His perfect lips smashed against yours was a quick change, as the kiss became more passionate. When the two of you pulled away, you were both out of breath. Woojin’s vast, chocolate orbs stared intensely into yours, and for a minute, everything was forgotten. Your grades, the test—even time itself was lost. But, the moment faded when Woojin began to cackle. You narrowed your eyes, and a small pout appeared on your features. 

“What?” You fired off, defensively.

“Nothing, nothing, (Name),” he reassured you, “I just noticed how much of kids we still are.” His guffawing echoed throughout your whole room, and soon, he had you laughing too. “It’s like the third grade all over again!” By that point, you were bursting at the seams, recollecting feelings and memories of the past. That one exclamation took you back nine years. 

It was one of your older friend’s birthday parties, and she suggested that you all build a pillow fort. Her twin brother was, of course, allowed to play, and with him, he had brought a boy. That boy was Park Woojin. That boy was the nicest out of everyone (even the girls). And, that boy, would soon become your best friend.

After the fort was assembled, all seven of you took your positions, and you began to play “princess and the dragon.” It was a fun game while it lasted, but not every kid could stay up as late as you could … except for one little boy in particular.

“You’re (Name), right?” He inquired curiously, cocking his eyebrow to further accentuate the question. You nodded, firmly content that he couldn’t see the redness of your cheeks.

“Nice!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep himself as quiet as he possibly could, “I’m Woojin, Park Woojin!” You smiled brightly at him, and silently moved your sleeping bag away from Gaeun, and closer to Woojin. The two of you went on and on about your like and dislikes until the night was far past young. In that period of time, you weren’t worried about the sun rising on the horizon, or the teasing that would come when all of your friends found you so close to each other. 

If this was what people called paradise, then, you never wanted to leave.

And leave, you did not. 

The eternal movement of the hands on a clock was futile when you and Woojin were in each other’s presence. Neither the small ticks nor the following tocks could disturb the tranquil infinity that was between you two. Forever was a long way away, but that didn’t mean that the romance ever had to stop. 

Snuggled together, warm and comfortable, under the safety of the covers, you were protected from humankind’s worst enemy—time. With Woojin, time was destroyed and created all at once. His eyes told stories of centuries, and his lips spoke the words of today. 

The fiery sensation that once inflamed your eyes was now gone, as Woojin’s soft voice lulled them closed. He told tales of great heroes, fables about animals, yes, but most importantly, he talked about you. He described everything he loved about you in immaculate detail. There were enough things to fill five hundred pages, but once he felt the steady puffs of breath that came from your mouth, he stopped at about one hundred.

“(Name),” he muttered, although he knew you were too far gone to even hear him, “I love you, and I know you’ll do great on your exams. All this time you’ve spent studying is worth something … just like all the time we spend together creates our perpetual paradise.”

[violetsystems]

#personal

While life has been incredibly isolating in ways, I’ve had a taste of what real independence feels like.  Everybody in America is always expressing their freedom by telling other people what they believe they are free to do.  But they’re not very free to listen.  They never seem to have any time to be free in public.  I live in a city with no car so I walk a lot.  I’ve walked cities all over the world at this point.  Half of Seoul by myself for years on end.  Spent an equal amount of time roaming New York with no real reason or invitation.  You meet a lot of people in passing.  In passing is a very unique space.  You share a moment with a person and it passes completely forgotten yet it feels poignant and unique.  And like that your interaction with a person is gone.  People forget you exist.  That you had meaning to them for a moment.  That you opened up in public and acknowledged their existence.  You tend to get less sensitive about talking to people.  If you are me, it’s mostly because nobody ever makes it a point to reconnect.  I always feel like I am a blink to most people.  Thanksgiving is a cold reminder of that.  I spoke with my parents.  My mom reminded me for five years I would leave after her birthday to spend a month in Korea.  So most of the time I would miss American Thanksgiving entirely.  Truth be told, I went to the Asian grocery store instead this year.  Alone again.  It’s a mindfuck sometimes when you try to be open and understanding and all doors are shut.  Last Sunday, my landlord called to speak about some issues on the property.  It’s mostly because I am open to talking about these things.  I am in a unique relationship in regards to where I rent.  Everything about me and my relationships with people when they work are nuanced.  Americans tend to be very by the book.  Most of my agreements are silent understandings at best.  I’ve always thought of it as the perks of being responsible and transparent.  That can bite you in the ass when everyone judges you and what they think you have a right to do.  But this is America in some ways.  We learned from the virus outbreak that you can’t really tell anyone what to do here in this country. And yet everyone is always hellbent in expressing themselves in comparison to what you get away with.  Everybody wants to know the inside scoop or the dirt.  Mostly because people define themselves by scarcity and having more than others.  Nobody really shares.  It’s most apparent when you look at your own life.  I was let go from a job after twenty years in July.  I haven’t heard anything from anyone in my professional network since October.  I was ghosted and it hurt.  And I blamed myself for awhile.  Then out of boredom and depression I figured out a way to survive. And in some ways feel more free than I’ve ever been.  This at a time when everyone is totally closed off to the world.  Even in a city where everybody seems to know your name and everything about you.  Everybody seems to know your struggle but won’t acknowledge how hard it is to do alone.  And you begin to care less altogether about what other people think.

Sometimes it feels like my job is to listen to Bloomberg all morning and stare at numbers on a screen.  And granted this is how I regenerated a large amount of liquid income over the last three months.  From the outside it probably looks like I’m living the life.  Except that it’s a life nobody wants to acknowledge exists.  Like it’s some inside joke or some long play to prove something to the world.  I’ve proven one thing.  I rely on myself and I get by.  I get mixed messages every time I leave the house from the world about what it is I’m supposed to be doing and what my value is as a person.  And yet I know every time somebody new sees me on the street I’m only an excuse to talk about someone they’ll never stop to know.  Sometimes this is good.  I don’t really want any new fair weather friends.  It’s incredibly demoralizing to have no one ever reach out or acknowledge how badly a situation has treated you.  Only recently did somebody tell me openly that I was “done dirty.”  I agreed quietly and pretty much threw my hands up and shrugged.  People are being done dirty every day.  Being coaxed into debt because they’re afraid to live within their means.  Being lulled into a false sense of security with a stagnant salary that doesn’t pay all the bills to escape lifestyle creep.  That everything is an investment upon an investment.  An elaborate scheme of tax avoidance and shuffling of the buck.  The truth is right now is that nobody has any money.  Or if they do they’re sitting on it waiting until a vaccine and quarter two.  All the while the pundits are talking about lost jobs and those who may never work again.  Sounds greats actually.  Except that I do actually want to continue to do something I’m worth and accrue some sort of income.  I have no student loans and a college degree if that’s worth anything.  I do realize now that I can do this all by myself.  And for the time being with a year and a half of COBRA I can do that without worrying about health insurance.  And for all the light at the end of the tunnel, you’d forgive me if I see things differently living what I have seen with my own eyes.  Nobody calls back.  Everybody is lowballing.  People would rather sell you on an auto loan and dorm living on real estate they own than an actual job.  It starts to feel like Sorry to Bother You.  The coal boomtowns of the twenties in America had a similar feel.  You worked for a company.  You lived in company quarters.  You were paid company bucks that weren’t legal tender anywhere but the company store.  It was incredibly profitable for the company because the money filtered back into the company’s pockets.  The same can be said for living in a community.  Except when you live in a community where everything is owned by small business and immigrant families, it’s a little more democratic.  Because we all pay our fair share of the taxes.  And thus everything is a little more fair and free.  So the way I see freedom these days is a bit of a mindfuck against the shadow of modern politics and the economy.  And yet, everyone is so beaten down and shell shocked that an act of kindness is either completely ignored or never returned.  I’ve heard multiple times progressive politicians say my job for the moment was staying home and stopping the spread of the virus.  That’s what keeps the economy running.  Not chopping qualified professionals from your bottom line to save money for your CEO and board members.  I’m always qualified for that position.  I have the Class A shares to prove it.  

The one thing I’ve realized is that people just don’t have all the answers sometimes.  I’ve had to make most of what I do up as I go along.  I’ve had more luck trying to meet society half way with whatever it wants.  Bring people together and make connections effortlessly without expecting much.  Building an infrastructure of trust and predictability.  Making people feel safer around me by being confident.  I was watching a WHO broadcast on the spread of the virus.  They had said something like masks acted as a firewall for the virus.  Safe, accountable relationships in community act like block-chain.  It speeds up the credibility and trust.  People worry less.  People are less paranoid and volatile when they know what to expect from you.  And unfortunately, I went about it the way thinking everybody would have to trust me first.  It’s not exactly the other way around.  And sometimes, knowing how to keep yourself safe is also about shutting the door on things.  I could feel bitter about always losing.  It was a severe blow to be forgotten.  It becomes more apparent over the holidays particularly Christmas and my birthday which both hallmark the dark winter.  But there’s connections I’ve built through knowing this much.  That for just as many vapid and frail friendships are out there, we still connect.  We are never completely forgotten about.  Not that the AI’s are the only hope or anything.  People are locked behind their screens and shells looking for a chance to feel safe.  And typically people lure people out under false pretenses.  They take advantage of that trust and safety for dumb reasons.  And it creates a history of hurt that keeps people buried.  You have to move beyond the hurt and reach out.  And sometimes the strength that the world is looking for from you is something you have to realize yourself.  You have to move beyond the anger, the frustration, hurt, and isolation to connect.  And sometimes you have to know deeply what you deserve before anyone will validate that.  You have to walk the walk.  Be the ball.  Make up your own solution.  One that isn’t just a spur of the moment passing of time. A plan that lasts.  I wouldn’t exactly call it a pitch or a sale of why you deserve to exist.  Knowing what you are worth and what it costs to breathe are two different things.  But ultimately to be valued is something very esoteric.  And there has been no shortage of years where people told me what they thought I should be.  Worse, they suggested it without saying a word.  Through negative reinforcement, bullying, and intimidation.  Mostly out of jealousy.  And it threw me off for years.  But I faced it and still look it right in the eye.  And what I see sometimes is frustrating.  I don’t know where I am at this point of anything other than amongst friends.  The real mindfuck is when you connect with someone and they never leave.  You share stories.  You share what moves you.  Your passions.  What turns you on.  And for all the times you tried so hard to be noticed.  You realize you don’t really have to try.  Because you are loved.  That is worth more than I can explain.  And it keeps me pushing on through all the hurt that’s piled up.  That’s the wall out there.  The ice you have to break.  People are walled off, unloved and isolated  And to know how that feels is to know how to be free.  I take it one day at a time.  But I’m always amazed it never takes me too far away from you.  Because you are always here in my heart.  And that’s why I have the strength to fight to help others stay free.  Because we’re all worth more than what people limit us to be.  They think they have it all and fear losing a dime.  They don’t own me and you know what I’m worth.  <3 Tim

[goffilolo]

Demise of Midoriya Izuku (part 5)

And I’m back from my holiday! I wrote majority of this chapter while travelling to save some time, but I should be back uploading regularly now. You can also read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557743/chapters/27025263

“So...a notebook?” Izuku said, his face portraying both confusion and distaste at the offending object he currently held in his hands. He looked up at Shin hoping for some sort of an answer.

“Yes, a notebook” replied the doctor, aware of his patient’s internal turmoil, but not keen to address it just yet.

“But why?”

It was their fourth session. After their last fiasco - which they made a silent promise not to talk about - Shin seemed more determined than ever to help Izuku get better, so when the session began and Shin simply handed Izuku an empty notebook with a smile on his face...it left Izuku confused to say the least, like going into an art gallery, seeing a blank canvas and wondering why it’s called art in the first place.

“I want to know what’s inside your head and I mean really deep ins-Izuku stop giggling, now’s not the time for ‘that’s what she said!’” shouted the doctor.

“Anyway, there’s only so much we can achieve during our sessions, so I thought about a notebook as sometimes it’s hard to articulate your thoughts and feelings into a coherent verbal response. So with this you can write anything that comes to your mind, anything that you feel, no matter how chaotic or nonsensical it may seem at the time!” Shin finished his little speech full of excitement, animatedly gesturing his hands while looking at Izuku, hoping to see some form of approval from the boy.

Instead he was met with a deadpan look accompanied by an equally deadpan response.

“So...a diary, what am I, a fourteen year-old girl looking for a safe place to write her feelings alongside with cheesy self-insert one direction fanfiction?”

“Izuku, you ARE fourteen”

“Don’t ruin it Shin” replied Izuku, again with the deadpan tone, which he noticed always gets on the other’s nerves.

Slowly but surely, Izuku started noticing more things about the psychiatrist, or rather the man in question started to show more of himself. And so he’s shown how much he cares about Izuku- through his lost composure that exposed the interior of a mad dedication and voiced  the worries of a worn out, but nevertheless a man on a mission- he cares with his whole being, more than he should. ‘So passionate’ Izuku thinks, not fully knowing what to do with that information other than to empathise and mourn quietly for his lost love that is ‘hero analysis for the future’.

He then looks down at the notebook in his hands.

“It’s not hero analysis, but…”

It will have to do. Having somewhere to accumulate his brain vomit, even if it’s not hero related it should give him back some resemblance of the everyday melancholy.

Today’s session was over far quicker thank Izuku would’ve liked, to his own surprise. While at first he dreaded the appointments, he now looked forward to them as Shin was the only person Izuku could spill his darkest, most complex thoughts to without any fears.

Izuku found himself back within the confines of his hospital room, books and notes taking up every free surface. It almost felt like home, if it wasn’t for the lack of All Might posters and action figures, which he was actually grateful for. He knows that his mother wouldn’t take down the posters during his absence. Having to go inside Izuku’s room to retrieve all of his things must’ve been enough of a reminder as to what caused her son so much pain in the first place.

Not wanting to think about having to confront the All Might convention known as his bedroom, Izuku opened the notebook he received from Shin. It was an ordinary notebook; the pages were flimsy, the cover was a simple cream colour,  just like the ones he used.

The boy stared down at the blank page for what seemed like hours, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what to write, which was never a problem before.

Izuku looked to his left, the stack of notebooks his mum must’ve brought in along with everything else; all the pages filled with paragraphs and diagrams of analysing various heroes’ quirks. “Thirteen volumes-no, twelve” he reminded himself, as the last one was burned and soaked in his school’s koi pond. Twelve notebooks worth of information and speculations about other people, yet he couldn’t write a single thought of his own down on the damn page.

“Burned out and drowning, just like that notebook” Izuku said, to no one in particular, while continuing to stare at the offending blankness of the page.

Just as Izuku was about to give in to his frustrations and throw the damn thing out of the window there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” he said, suddenly remembering about this thing called decency, which includes, but is not limited to not throwing things out of the window when other people are watching. Fuck decency.

Lo and behold comes in his favourite homeroom teacher to deliver the homework. “Hi Midoriya! I got your homework. How are you doing today?” he says with far too much enthusiasm to counteract the coldness he’s met with whenever he’s visiting Izuku. It’s not like he hates the teacher in particular, or so he tells himself, but there’s always a persistent feeling of resentment at the back of his mind, which for the most part he refused to acknowledge. That is until his sessions with Shin, where he was advised to-quote his psychiatrist-‘stop giving a fuck and just prioritise yourself for once’ which apparently also means being honest with oneself regarding the internal levels of salt, as well as learning that those feelings aren’t wrong.

And so Izuku finds himself giving the teacher a cold shoulder as a payback? of some sorts, because while he’s already established that Bakugou is the source of all the evil in his little world, that does not excuse the teacher’s lack of intervention; just standing by the sides and witnessing the bullying taking place. What a pathetic man, he thought.

“Oh you know, due to unfortunate circumstances I am alive” Izuku finally answers, his voice coated with excess sugar and malice, looking his teacher straight in the eye, challenging him. He takes some form of twisted joy from watching the man in question look away, discomfort obvious in his posture, not knowing what to do with the implications of Izuku’s words.

He’s not quite ready to let the teacher off the hook just yet, he’s having too much fun, given how little there is to entertain him here. Izuku wants to prolong it ‘but how?’ he questioned while looking around the room...Ah!

“Actually…” Izuku begins, startling the teacher who looked ready to just dump the homework and make a dash for the door. “...I think I might have left one of my notebooks in school. It had number thirteen on it. If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could bring it to me along with the homework tomorrow?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady and free of any mockery, lulling the man into a false sense of safety.

“Oh, I’m afraid there wasn’t such notebook in your desk when I checked last time” replied the teacher, thrown off guard by the -only way he could describe it as is innocent- tone his student spoke with, a drastic change after becoming so familiar with the sarcastic and aggressive remarks that greet him on a regular basis.

“It wasn’t in my desk.”

“Where is it then?”

“Kacchan will know where it is, so why don’t you ask him?”

And the bomb has been dropped. Izuku further tilts his head while maintaining the most ‘I’m oblivious to your discomfort’  face he’s able to pull off. By this point the teacher looks like he wants nothing more than to disintegrate if it means not having to face the consequences of his actions, or lack of thereof. ‘Perfect’.

“I will...see what I can do” he replies, not knowing how else to end this conversation and escape the uncomfortable position he’s put in.

“I’m sure you will.”

‘I’m angry…’

at myself

at Kacchan

at the school

at the whole world

at my father

‘I’m angry… I feel powerless, I want to fight back, I want to be better’

The page is no longer blank, it’s not much.

But it’s something.

[potions-and-potters]

Could you do a fic with the theme that they're set up on a blind date and one is a hopeless romantic and the other is a cold hearted sex fiend?

Thanks for the prompt! I never thought about a blind date situation before, and it was rather interesting. I hope what I’ve written is satisfactory. It’s got a little bit of everything, and of course, some smut. Here is the link! If you’re on AO3, then please send me your username so I can gift it to you! 

Sorry for the wait!

For those of you who wish to read it on here:

Title: Fuck-N-Run

Summary: “Dates are simply the social etiquette required to be displayed before two people can bed each other without causing a scandal"

Category: M/M

Rating: Explicit

Words: 17,909

Relationship: Harry Potter/Severus Snape

Note: I didn’t mean for this fic to be more than a few thousand words, but I’m rubbish at keeping things short.

There are some visuals in the notes at the bottom. I don’t own the images I’m linking to; I just used them as inspiration.

I actually finished this a few days ago but held off posting until today, the ninth of January, for dramatic effect in honour of one Severus Snape’s birthday. I think he’d appreciate the gesture. So, Enjoy the fic, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SEVERUS SNAPE!

Also, this hasn’t really been edited, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Fic:

Theambush came on a chilly Thursday evening.

TheWeasley house was quiet except for a soft love song playing lowly on the radio.The man’s tenor voice drifted throughout the living room as the fire crackledlightly. Warm candle light bled into the room from the kitchen, where the scentof freshly baked pumpkin scones wafted out.

If onestrained an ear, it was possible to hear the low murmur of voices from outside,and the odd creak of a floorboard from upstairs. Most everyone was in thegarden, watching stars and talking about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.Ron’s voice was particularly lacking in the chorus of support every time theBulgarian National Quidditch team was mentioned. Of course, he would say it hadnothing to do with Viktor Krum, and everything to do with his now unwaveringsupport of the Holyhead Harpies, and his pride in his little sister’s positionon the team. 

It wasin this moment, lulled into a false sense of safety and relaxation, as HarryPotter sat by himself on the worn couch with a Butterbeer in hand, that he wasambushed.

“It’s one date, Harry!” Ginny exclaimed inexasperation, looking down at Harry as her fiery red hair fell across her eyes.Beside her, Hermione nodded. She stood with her wand in hand, ready to hexHarry if he tried to make a break for it – again.

“Idon’t want to go on a date!” Harry replied with his nose wrinkled in distaste.“And definitely not a blind one!”

“It’llbe good for you, Harry,” Hermione said, looking far too much like she wanted tohelp him.

Harrydidn’t need help.

Sure,he hadn’t gone on a date for a while, but he wasn’t looking to date. He wasperfectly content with his adventurous club loo hook ups, and odd tumbles inbroom closets at various events (most of which were thrown in his honor anyway,so why shouldn’t he have a little fun at them, anyway?). Did these tales makeit onto the front page of the Daily Prophet? Yes, usually more often than not.However, Harry had been dealing with lies concerning himself being published inthat rag since he was eleven, so he really didn’t care if a one night standdeclared they made passionate love in the Three Broom Sticks’ store room. Itwas far better than watching another relationship blow up in the public eye,and having to pass by every witch and wizard holding a copy with his failedlove life on the cover.

Atleast that’s what Harry told himself, anyway.

“You’restarting to get a reputation,”Hermione said in a scandalized tone.

“Great,what are they saying about me now?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his butterbeer.“Have I turned dark, and decided that Voldemort had the right idea this wholetime?” he joked bitterly into his cup.

“No,”Hermione replied, clearly annoyed at Harry’s dismissal and zero-fucks attitude.

“There’sa rumor that you’ll have sex with anyone that compliments your eyes,” Ginnytold him, a touch of amusement in her voice.

Harryhad to snort at that. One girl had gushed over his eyes, calling them shiningemeralds, and just because he’d buggered her and she’d run to the Prophet withit the next day, everyone thought that was all it took? He’d fully intended tosleep with the blonde beauty when he’d saw her drooling over him across thedance floor at a particularly dull dinner (yes, in his honor). The complimenthad nothing to do with it.

“I’lladmit it’s annoying, but so what?” Harry said with a shrug. “Nobody can believeeverything they write is true. They manage to contradict themselves on theirown made up stories three times in a week!” Harry laughed. He took a sip of hisdrink, and made a humming noise when he remembered, “it happened just lastweek!”

Ginnycrossed her arms, unimpressed and not backing down. Harry sighed.

“Look,I know you’re just trying to be nice, but I’m fine!” he said, looking betweenthe two of them.

“You’reworkaholic auror with a playboy reputation that’s locked up his heart becauseyou’re too afraid that someone might break it,” Hermione snapped.

“Sothat’s what this is about!” Harry exclaimed, latching onto the first part ofthe sentence. “You think I spend too much time at work!”

“Don’tchange the subject,” Ginny told him firmly.

“I likebeing an auror,” Harry said, ignoring her, and feeling his defenses go up. “I’mgood at it, and it helps people! Just because I work a little more than some ofthe others-“

“Webarely see you at all!” Hermione interjected, arms thrown up into the air.

“-doesn’t mean I’m a workaholic, and even if it did that’s not necessarily a badthing. I have to keep up-to-date on all the dark arts, and the intelligence wereceive, and figure out counters and cures and preventative measures. I’ve gotan important job, and it doesn’t end just because I’m no longer in my aurorrobes!” Harry explained. “You should know, Hermione, your husband’s an auror,too!” he added.

“Roncomes home and leaves work at work,” Hermione answered with a flash of anger.

“Wellgood for him then,” Harry said, voice rising, “I can’t do that. I won’t dothat. I made a vow when I became an auror, and to myself, that I’d be the bestauror there was, and I can’t do that if I’m not constantly improving andlearning!”

“Youalready are the best auror!” Hermione yelled.

Therewas a moment of silence before Ginny came to sit next to him. Harry tried notto bristle further, or pull away as she took his hands gently in her own. He turnedhis eyes to meet hers when it became apparent that she was waiting for him todo so.

“Youhave such a big capacity to love, and you deserve to have someone to share thatwith,” she said sincerely, eyes searching his own. “But if you shut your heartaway before you give it a chance, and don’t try,then you’ll never find that person,” she said softly.

Harryglanced to Hermione, back to standing in the same position she had been, whoseeyes were equal parts plea and worry. He looked back to Ginny and saw a similarlook there too, and knew he was beat. With a sigh he looked into hisbutterbeer, accepting his fate.

“Fine,I’ll go on the bloody date,” Harry mumbled in defeat.

“Great,”Ginny smiled, triumphant. She popped up off the couch with a renewed sense ofenergy, and a sparkle in her eyes.

“Thisis just a date, though. I’m not going to fall in love with the first person youset me up with,” Harry made sure to point out.

“Youmean you’ll let us set you up on more?” Ginny asked, twirling around with awolfish grin.

“Ifthis one goes all right,” Harry said slowly. It couldn’t hurt, having a steadyflow of potential hook ups, at least.

“Exactly,”Hermione said. “That’s what we were trying to tell you. There’s no harm done ifit doesn’t turn out. Think of it like a practice date!” she smiled.

Sure,Harry thought, draining his butterbeer. A practice date.

Severusdowned the glass of scotch in one mouthful, the familiar burning warmth rushingdown his throat. He had long since stopped taking tea when he met with Albus,and it seemed to stave off the offer of lemon drops or other such sugary things.

“Do sitdown, my boy,” Albus said as he himself sat at his large wooden desk in hisoffice.

Severussent him a withering look at the name. He was forty-three for fucks sake. DidAlbus have to call him a boy? He’d survived two wars (shockingly), and taughtfor twenty-two years. He was not a boy.

Nevertheless,he sat down in the chair opposite, swinging his black robes across his lap ashe did.

“Ifyou’ve summoned me here to try to push some dull, misguided girl looking for ahero to worship, then I will have to, once again, decline your generous offerto set me up on some foolish quest for love,” Severus said in a disgusted tone.

Albussmiled at him.

“I onlywant you to be happy, Severus,” he said after a moment.

Severus’seyes narrowed. His happiness had never been anything Albus had been concernedwith before, and it was a childish dream that Severus himself had given upachieving long ago. Why the old man cared now made no sense. Furthermore, whyAblus thought the only way he would be happy was if he fell helplessly in lovewith someone (which was a laugh right there), was beyond him.

Albus,however, was determined.  Week afterweek, for years now, he had called him into his office, offered him tea,biscuits, and sweets, and tried to convince him to go on, of all things, a blinddate. No matter how many times Severus refused, Albus would be inviting himback the next week.

Henever said whom these dates would be with, but Severus could guess. There wereplenty of pathetic, idiotic, girls all over Britain who were picking up DailyProphets and seeing him within the pages. The things they were saying. Severus had to repress a shudder at thememory of one headline last month that he’d seen while shopping for potion’singredients in Diagon Alley. In the very same trip, he’d been stopped at leastfive times by starry-eyed witches trying to shower him with their affections.One of them tried giving him flowers. It was all getting out of hand.

He’dbeen threatened with Witch Weekly’s “Most Eligible Wizard” for the third year in a row.

Evenhis students were starting to swoonduring classes. He had enough trouble trying to make sure they didn’t blowthemselves up before all of this nonsense. The last thing he needed was sillylittle girls trying to slip him – him! – a love potion. As if he wouldn’t beable to tell.

Hetaught them how to make the bloody stuff.

Severusdebated getting up and filling his glass with another two fingers of scotch.He’d been drinking quite a bit lately. It was no wonder why.

“Whydon’t you just give it a try?” Albus asked. “It might not be as bad as youthink. In fact, it might surprise you.”

Severusrather doubted that.

“I’dlike to think I’ve gotten to know you quite well over these many years,”Severus wondered how many years it had to be until he was no longer considereda boy, “and am rather certain thatthe individual in question is sure to be a wonderful match,” Albus continued onin explanation. “Humour me, my boy.”

Severusglared, and then thought about the offer.

Perhaps,if he went on one disastrous date, Albus would see that it was a lost cause andgive up. Severus supposed he could suffer through one evening if it meantgetting Albus off his back for good. Besides, there was a high possibility thatthis girl, like many others he’d encountered recently (students included,unfortunately) would be all too willing to throw herself at him and it had beenquite some time since he’d had the opportunity to get laid.

Houseresponsibilities had never taken up so much time in the past, even when HarryPotter had been in the castle. Evidently, there was no limit to the recklessthings students would do, and dangerous situations they would purposefully getthemselves into, simply because they knew he would have to “come to theirrescue,” as one swooning fifth year had claimed.

A goodfuck might at least relieve some stress.

“Fine,”Severus sighed, causing a concerning twinkle to gleam in Albus’s eye.

Severussat at a round, white-clothed table with a burning red candle in a small ornatecandle holder in the center. A wine glass and a leather-bound menu marked hisdate’s would be seat. The seats were hard, but the wood was crafted with greatdetail. The room was moderately well lit, considering most restaurants that aimfor that romantic atmosphere usually were anything but.

There wasa piano on a small platform by a roaring fire that had been charmed to play acalm, sweet melody. The tables around his own were placed far enough away togive just the right amount of privacy to prove it an intimate occasion. A clearmessage of intent: anybody in this restaurant was on a date.

Thewaiters, surprisingly, wore suits but no formal robes. It was a trend amonghigh-class restaurants that was fast gaining ground in the wizarding world.This establishment was no exception, which one would expect considering itlooked to be somewhere that a glass of their cheapest wine would cost theaverage man a month’s wages.

Luckily,Albus was paying.

Whichwas why, as he waited for his date (who was late) he had ordered a glass ofridiculously expensive wine just to spite the old man. Severus took a sip ofit, not caring how petty it was. He had plans to make the old man pay furtherfor this, anyway.

Thiswas not the place one brought somebody on a blind date. This was the type ofplace one brought somebody to propose.Severus just hopped the woman he was being set up with at least had enoughbrains to realize that would most certainly not be happening tonight. Or ever.

Hefound himself wondering about this woman. Who she might be. Had he met heralready? How old she was. If it was a former student, he was leaving. What shelooked like. He did, after all, only agree to this because he was itching for afuck. What was her personality like. Good company was hard to find, and theaverage person tended to lack enough intelligence to keep his attention for morethan ten minutes.

Severus’sthoughts came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of Harry Potter walking infrom the chilly February weather outside.

Hewatched as the Boy Who Lived Twice rubbed his hands together in an effort towarm them. He paid no attention to the excited waiters or the whispering dinersas he asked the same waiter who seated Severus a question.

Harry,as Severus had started calling him a couple years ago due to the boy’sinsistence, was looking particularly fetching tonight. Not that he didn’t lookgood every day, because he did. Since fifth year, if Severus admitted it tohimself, Harry had suddenly turned into quite a beautiful man. Quidditch andauror training were much to thank for Harry’s physic, which was muscled, toned,and deliciously evident even under robes.

Severushadn’t seen Harry in several months, since last August, actually. It seemed theyoung auror had grown his hair out enough for it to be able to be brushed backin a thick wave, parted on the left of his head with notably shorter sides. Itsuited him perfectly, making his untamable black hair look purposefully ruffledin a suggestive manner that Severus was sure witches everywhere appreciatedjust as much as he did. The new haircut showed off his scar, which Severus wasmildly surprised at, considering Harry himself had once admitted he usuallytried to hide it.

As hewalked past the waiting area, Harry removed his coat to reveal a dark blue,almost black, jacket, which fit him wonderfully, a deep royal blue polo shirtthat hung off him in a way that told anyone who looked that there was mostdefinitely flat, defined abdominals and taught pecs beneath it, and trousersthat matched the jacket and fit snugly in all the right places, accentuating hisslim hips.

WhomeverHarry was meeting was in for an envious treat.

Severuswatched with interest as Harry walked his way, and glanced around discreetly tosee if he could make the lucky individual who had scored a date with HarryPotter. It must have be someone rich and important. Someone who won one ofthose auction dates that Harry participated in for charity. Severus rememberedwhen funds to rebuild the school had been low and Harry had agreed to auctionhimself off for a date to the highest bidder. They had received a staggeringamount of money from a middle-aged witch in Bulgaria.

Hewondered which charity this would be going to, as it most definitely had to befor such an occasion. Harry Potter did not date. At least, that was what theevidence pointed to, anyway. While Severus was under the impression Harry andthe youngest Weasley were in inseparable love, the two had split apart onlythree months after her graduation from Hogwarts. For two years, Harry’sfascinating love life had graced the pages of various gossip magazines heconfiscated during classes. Each relationship ending more disastrously than thelast.

Thatall came to a sudden halt when Harry had, apparently, discovered one nightstands and dirty nightclubs. The Boy Who Lived Twice had gotten the taste forthe playboy lifestyle, and it seemed he was not going to be giving it upanytime soon. Harry never commented on the scandalous sex tales that came outabout him, nor the fact he did not seem to discriminate when it came to the genderof his conquest.

Severussuddenly went stiff as the sneaking suspicion that Harry was heading to himprickled across his skin. Harry must have spotted him, and was probably comingover under the pretenses of a quick ‘hello’ in order to find out why he of allpeople was in a place as sickeningly romantic as this. Severus hopped whomeverhe was meeting was delayed several more minutes. He didn’t think his pridecould take it otherwise. Even if he was able to slip in the fact that he wasdoing this for Albus, or rather to get Albus to leave him alone.

“Er,hi?” Harry said, eloquent as ever, as he stood in front of the tableuncomfortably. His eyes shifted around, and he was visibly nervous. A bitconfused. Slightly embarrassed by the faint blush colouring his cheeks. Hewasn’t saying anything else, and he wasn’t moving away, or even making anyindication that he intended to go anywhere else. His hand came to rest on thechair in front of him, fingers curling around it as if he planned to-

Severusfelt his eyes widen in horror as the realization dawned on him.

“No.”

Harrywas running late, of course.

Itwasn’t actually his fault though. Ginny and Hermione were arguing about whatshoes he should wear, and it made Harry regret agreeing to them coming overbefore the date.

Harryactually had developed a rather good sense of fashion, good enough to be voted“Best Dressed Wizard” once again this year. He was already dressed, andactually early, when he was fire-called by Ginny. Hermione was with her, andthey requested to come through in order to make sure he was appropriatelydressed. Harry wondered if they thought he would show up to a date in the samekinds of clothes he went clubbing in. He’d agreed to let them floo over simplyto prove a point.

It washis own fault that they’d stayed. He’d asked for help choosing which watch towear, and it had escalated quickly from there. They had gone through all hiscuff links (they’d settled on the matching snitches), his belts (they’d gonewith a skinny black leather one), his necklaces (they chose a simple silverchain), his bracelets (Ginny had decided his silver watch was enough, eventhough Hermione quite liked a wide leather band), his rings (all were decidedagainst), his scarfs (which he had managed to convince Hermione he did not needdespite the cold weather outside), and just when Harry had thought he could getrid of them and still be on time, he had made the mistake of wondering aloudwhich pair of shoes to put on.

Hermionethought the pair of black Chelsea boots was both practical for the time ofyear, and appropriate for the date setting. Ginny disagreed, thinking that apair of lace-up leather ankle boots in a dark navy color to match his jacketand a touch of a heel to give him some added height, were the way to go. Thetwo witches argued over the shoes for a solid fifteen minutes as Harry took thetime to add additional finishing touches in the bathroom. He added some moreaftershave, and several spritzes of an overly expensive cologne he’d beengifted with. He checked his reflection in the mirror, cleaned off his roundrimmed glasses, and reapplied some lip balm to combat the dry winter weatherthat seemed to chap his lips at the mere thought of it.

When hechecked his watch and saw that he would be at least five minutes late if heleft right then, he decided enoughwas enough.

“Allright, all right,” he said as he came out of his on-suit, “that’s enough.”  Ginny and Hermione were glaring at eachother, wands in hand. Harry rolled his eyes at them, and glanced between thetwo choices he had. He sat himself on the bed, and reached for the ankle boots.“I like these ones,” he said, and ignored both Ginny’s triumphant smile andHermione’s frustrated little noise of disapproval.

“Haveyou got your wallet?” Ginny asked as Harry laced his boots up.

“In mypocket,” Harry replied.

“Wand?”

Harrydidn’t dignify that with a response.

“Don’tforget your coat,” Hermione said when he stood.

“Hermione,I’ve not even left my bedroom yet,” Harry said, giving her a chastising lookfor her mothering. Hermione didn’t bother to look affronted.

“I’vereally got to go, so will you two,” Harry looked at them both, and then to thefloo, “you know,” he said, gesturing with a shoo motion, “leave already?” heasked.

Both ofthem looked reluctant at the idea. Harry was relieved, however, that once hewalked out the room, they did follow. He looked back as he grabbed his coatfrom the coat rack by the front door of his apartment. They both stoodawkwardly watching him.

“Bye?”he tried, eyebrow raised as he popped his coat collar.

“Do youremember the address?” Ginny asked. “For the restaurant?”

“Yes,”Harry answered.

“Whatabout how to get here? Do you need the directions again?” Hermione asked.

“Iremember,” Harry drawled, seeing where this was going.

“Justremember that it’s not some person you’re picking up at a bar,” Ginny said asHarry walked towards them to usher them to the floo. “You’ve got to be a littlemore tactile, a little more classy,” she continued even as she started walking.

“Bepolite,” Hermione added, as if Harry were a child, “and make sure you speakabout appropriate topics for a date.” She turned to give him a threateninglook. “No talk of work, or quidditch, or politics,” she warned.

Harrywondered what she expected him to talk about if she was black listing the onlytopics he knew about.

“Andkeep the conversation light,” Ginny added.

“Silenceisn’t a bad thing,” Hermione pointed out.

“Butnot too much, don’t let it get awkward.”

“And besure to ask questions about the person, but don’t shy away from answering thoseabout yourself.”

“Anddon’t close off if they do ask about you.”

“Or getdefensive.”

“Butdon’t ask too many questions, either. This is a date, not an interrogation.”

“Speakingof interrogations, did we mention not to bring up work? Don’t bring up work.”

“Yes.Okay. All right. All right,” Harry laughed, literally pushing them into thefloo.

Hermionetwisted back, eyes locking onto Harry’s and a soft smile coming to her face.Her hand cupped Harry’s cheek as she said, “Oh, and, Harry, don’t forget to beyourself.”

Withthat the floo whisked them away, concerned, nervous, hopeful looks and all.

Harrysighed as he was left alone, and nodded to himself.

It washigh time he got going. He grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped into thefloo, and clearly intoned the destination.

Harrymanaged to stumble only slightly out of the floo when he arrived, one blockaway from the restaurant. The cold February weather hit him straight away,stealing his breath with a sharp wind and light snow flurries. Harry shoved hishands in his coat pockets and started walking.

Thestreets were moderately busy, but luckily with the snowy weather, nobody waspaying much attention to who was out. Harry was able to get to the restaurantwithout being stopped once for an autograph.

When hearrived, he eyed the outside with suspicion. It was a rustic brick buildingwith sleek black doors and a simple sign with the restaurant’s name written inelegant script. Hermione and Ginny had said it was a more upper-class place,but this was nothing like he’d imagined.

As thewind whipped through his coat, Harry shivered and headed towards the door.

Hepushed through the door and was hit with welcome warmth. There was the softsound of conversations that blended together to create a calm atmosphere, and asweet melody played on a piano from somewhere in the room. The restaurantseemed to glow with warm candle light, giving off a sense of peaceful intimacy.

Thiswas not at all what Harry had been expecting.

Thiswas downright romantic.

Harrynoted with annoyance that a part of him fluttered with warmth at it all. Hesquashed down those feelings, unwilling to allow his traitorous hopeless romanticcharacteristics to come bursting through the wall he’d constructed around hisheart.

As hetried to rub some warmth back into his hands, Harry approached a man in astrictly formal suit behind a black podium.

“Hello,I’m supposed to be meeting someone here? I’m a bit late, so they’ve probablyalready arrived. Name should be under ‘Fawkes’ for a table of two?” Harry saidto the unfazed man.

Harrywasn’t too surprised that in a place like this, the staff were more acquaintedto seeing recognizable witches and wizards walk in the door. He did note ayoung girl who was supposed to be showing an elderly couple to a table hadfroze upon seeing him, blinking rapidly with her mouth slightly agape. Hertraining must have kicked in, however, as she managed to get herself undercontrol and continued on with the customers she had. Harry was pleasantlysurprised.

Theother guests were not as polite, and as he turned to scan the restaurant, hewas recognized. The whispers started, and people were pausing in their meals,forks up to their mouths, as their eyes darted to him in shock. Several peopleturned around in their chairs to stare at him.

Harryignored them in favor of listening to the waiter’s directions to his table.

“Thanks,”he responded, giving the man a small smile. He started to take his coat off ashe walked, eyes scanning the restaurant.

Harryspotted the table towards the back of the restaurant. It was small and round, acrisp white tablecloth laid over top and a candle in the middle. Someone wassat at the table already, sitting in the seat Harry would most likely havechosen for himself if he had gotten there early enough, one that looked out tothe rest of the restaurant. A perfect place to keep an eye on things.

It waswith a jolt of shock that Harry recognized the man sitting at the table.

SeverusSnape sat eyeing him over a glass of red wine. It was the closest Harry everthought he would see the man get to Gryffindor colors. Severus looked the sameas he did when Harry had first met him, except his hair had grown to shoulderlength over the years, and had, to Harry’s amusement, gotten layers, addingvolume and a nice texture to it.

He waswearing his robes, of course. It left everything to the imagination becauseHarry couldn’t see a damn thing other than folds of black fabric hangingloosely around him. Harry felt naked in comparison.

Snapehad yet to take his eyes off him, and Harry figured, if the cautiouscalculating look in his dark eyes was anything to go by, Snape had yet to understandwhat was happening. If he did, he surely would be up and out the door. Thiswas, after all, a blind date for them both. Ginny and Hermione had told himthat in an attempt to assure Harry the other person was just as nervous as hewas.

WhenHarry made it to the table, he wasn’t sure what to do. Snape still hadn’t doneanything, and Harry took it to mean he was waiting for Harry to say somethingfirst. The man’s eyes narrowed at him as the silence stretched on.

“Er,hi?” Harry said lamely. He shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followedit, and when Snape still didn’t react, he decided to just sit down as they werebound to be being watched and he didn’t want to draw any more attention.

Itseemed, as he went to pull the chair out that Snape finally clocked on. Theolder wizard’s eyes widened in complete shock.

“No,”he said.

Harryblinked.

No?What did that mean? No, Harry couldn’t sit down? No, Harry wasn’t his date? No,Harry wasn’t actually there? No, what?

“Um,pardon me?” Harry asked, a little meekly as he did sit down.

“Thisis some ridiculous joke you and the headmaster have planned, and I want no partof it,” Snape stated angrily. Harry wondered if he’d get up and storm out. Itwas a dramatic enough exit that he’d do it, too.

“I wasunder the impression that this was a blind date set up by Hermione and Ginny,”Harry managed to explain rather calmly.

“Didyou know?” Snape asked, ignoring him. At Harry’s apparent confusion, heclarified, “Did you know you were meeting me?”

Thetone he asked it in told Harry to tread very carefully. It was a bit likefacing off with a snake, except this one Harry couldn’t just order about. Thisone was far more dangerous than a snake. For a moment, Harry wondered how Snapewould feel about that thought. Was it a compliment or an insult? Snape was aSlytherin, Head of Slytherin at that, and he did always seem to like having theability to intimidate others. Though, at the same time he had almost diedbecause of a snake and was sure to have many unpleasant memories that involvedsnakes. So, Harry wasn’t sure. He supposed it could be taken either way. Fromthe look on Snape’s face though, Harry also supposed he should answer the manbefore he ended up with fangs in hisneck.

“No,”he replied. Honesty was the best policy, right? “I was completely blind to whomy date would be, and I’m assuming that you were too?”

“Yes.”

Itdidn’t take a brilliant Legilimens to know that Snape was uncomfortable. Beforethe man could bolt, Harry tried to save the situation.

“Look,I know you probably aren’t too happy with this,” Snape raised a single eyebrowat this statement, “but it doesn’t mean the evening has to go to waste,” Harrytold him. He gestured to the nice table and the wine in Snape’s hand. “It’s allbeing paid for, right?” Snape nodded, going back to that cautious andcalculated look of his. “Then why don’t we just enjoy our evening as twofriends having dinner together?”

“Thisis hardly the place where two friends have dinner together,” Snape drawled, andHarry chose not to comment on the fact that the man had no instantly arguedagainst Harry calling them friends.

“Well,now it is,” Harry said instead.

“It isnot,” Snape challenged, and Harry wondered if it would actually kill Snape toagree with him for once. “We might as well just leave now and go home,” Snapesaid.

“Why?”Harry asked in confusion. Was spending one dinner with him so bad? Sure, it wasa rather intimate and romantic place, but that didn’t mean they had to treatthe evening like that. It didn’t have to be a date. Harry blinked. “It doesn’thave to be a date. Just stay for a little while.”

Snaperegarded him silently, and Harry found himself holding his breath as he waitedfor a reply.

“Fine,”Snape said. He brought his wine glass to his lips, and muttered, “It’d be ashame to waste the wine anyway,” before downing the rest of it.

“Great.”

Harrypicked up his menu and scanned through it. Just as he was reading about theirfavored lamb dish, he heard Snape scoff at him quietly. He glanced up inquestion.

“Isthere a problem?”

“We’reon a date,” Snape said as if that explained it all.

“We’renot on a date!” Harry replied quickly, voice going up an octave. Why did Snapecontinue to insist this was a date? Harry had said it didn’t have to be a date!Yet Snape kept saying it over and over. Harry frowned, his brow crinkling. Hecouldn’t read Snape’s face, but something flickered across it for a moment. Itmade Harry’s frown deepen before he had an idea. Unsure, Harry cleared histhroat, and voiced a light and cautious, “Unless you want it to be?”

Therewas a beat of silence, which was excruciatingly awkward and anxiety inducing,and then, right when Harry was about to surely die from embarrassment, Snapescoffed again. Harry felt himself prickle at it.

“What?” he asked the older man, feelingthat familiar flare of anger Harry had often felt around Snape during his yearsat Hogwarts.

“I donot date, Potter,” Snape replied.

“Ever?”Harry couldn’t help but ask in astonishment. He thought with all the attentionSnape was getting, men and women, he would have thought Snape would at least goout a couple times with someone who intrigued him. If he never went on dates,maybe Snape worried that he wouldn’t be any good on them and thought it was toolate to start? “If your nervous about your first-“ Harry started but Snape cuthim off with a sharp look and a sneer.

“I’vebeen on dates before,” he replied venomously, the ‘you idiot’ was left off butjust barely. Harry found him once again reminded of the snake analogy.

“Thenwhy did you say you-“

“Datesare simply the social etiquette required to be displayed before two people canbed each other without causing a scandal,” Snape interrupted him again. He eyedHarry before adding, “I’d have thought you of all people would be familiar withthe concept.”

“Idon’t take them on a date first,” Harry said in confusion, completely unable tothink about the fact he was talking about dating and one night stands withSnape.

Snaperaised an eyebrow at him. “My, my, and to think the Golden Boy can’t even bebothered to show a modicum of gentlemen behavior before he does a Fuck-N-Run,”Snape said in a cool voice full of amusement.

“Fuck-N-Run?!”Harry repeated in disbelief. He couldn’t believe they were talking about this.That he was talking about this with Snape. That Snape had just said ‘fuck’ andsaid it so casually. That Snape had just called a one-night stand a‘Fuck-N-Run’ of all things.

Snapeleaned in, black eyes hard.

“Keepyour voice down,” he hissed. 

Harryglanced around and saw several people were watching them in surprise. Hesupposed he did say that a bit loud. He was caught off guard, though. Hecouldn’t help it.

“Isthat what you do, then?” Harry batted back after composing himself a bit.

Raisingan eyebrow, Snape replied, “How is that any of your concern?”

“I’dlike to know if that’s what you plan to do to me,” Harry askedconversationally, giving as good as he got. He thought he saw a slight twitchof Snape’s lip at that, but he wasn’t sure. He watched, keeping still andstanding his ground as Snape’s eyes quickly ran over him.

“Isthat an offer?” Snape asked in a bored voice.

“Youdidn’t answer my question,” Harry pointed out.

BeforeSnape could reply, a waiter came for their order. Harry suddenly realized hehadn’t actually chosen yet, but remembered reading about the lamb before he andSnape started talking. He ordered the lamb and Snape ordered the duck, actingas though it were nothing out of the ordinary that they were on a not dateblind date, and that they hadn’t just had that conversation.

Notwanting a strained silence to fall between them for the rest of the night,Harry tried to get them back on track for thatevening-dinner-between-two-friends thing they had both agreed to. Or did they?He thought they did?

“Howare classes?” he asked as a waiter poured him some wine. He looked up from thenow full glass of wine to see Snape arching a brow at him yet again. He sighed.“This would be a lot easier if you’d just play along.”

“Theonly reason I play along on dates is because the payoff is usually somehalf-way decent sex,” the man replied. “As I’m not getting that, I don’t seewhy I should play along at all.”

“Wasthat what tonight was going to be to you no matter who sat down at this table?”Harry asked.

“Yes.”

Harrywas mildly surprised at the honesty. “Why not just get a girlfriend?” Harryasked, and snorted into his glass at the look of horror that came over Snape’sface at the suggestion. “Not a romantic I take it?”

“Whatabout me, Mister Potter, makes you think I’d be a romantic?” Snape asked,looking at Harry in a chiding way.

“It’dbe easier than having to woo your date every time you want to get laid,” Harryquipped back. “It’s Harry, by the way,” he added, not willing to ignore the useof his last name. They were on a date after all, Snape could at least use hisfirst name. Or rather, they weren’t on a date, but it was like a date, but not,but-

Thiswas getting confusing.

“Muchlike yourself, Harry, I’m more of theFuck-N-Run type as well,” Snape said. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Now, will youanswer my question, or will you be avoiding that one as well?”

“Youseem to be forgetting those memories you gave me. I know exactly how romanticyou secretly are, Severus, and sodoes the rest of the world ever since your trial,” Harry said, enjoying thealmost slip of emotion on Snape’s face at the use of his given name. He’d notactually given Harry permission to use it, but Harry figured considering theirsetting, he would use it anyway. “I’m surprised you’ve not got people throwingthemselves at you for a shag. No polite society demanding date required,” hecontinued. “Now that you’re a hero and all that.”

“I’mnot a hero,” Snape said in disgust. “And unlike you I don’t fuck anybody whocompliments my eyes,” he replied with a toothy grin.

“Thatis not what happened!” Harry said in annoyance. He narrowed his eyes at Snapein realization. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to read gossipmagazines,” he said suspiciously.

“Confiscatedfrom a third year during class,” Snape replied easily. “You were the coverstory.”

“Noticedthat, did you? It seems it’s either you or me that makes it on there weekly.Mad that I took your spot, are you? Hoping to see yourself on there withanother riveting piece on your heroism and bad-boy attitude?” Harry askedinnocently.

“Don’tremind me,” Snape said, lip curling at the thought. “They’re pathetic. Don��tthey have anything better to publish?”

“Wesell best.”

“That’seven more disturbing.”

“You’llget used to it,” Harry said. At Snape’s look of disbelief, he smiled and shookhis head. “I mean eventually you’ll learn to stop caring. It’s hard sometimes,and there will be times that something gets to you, but you have to let it go.”

“Anddoes it get to you often?”

“No,but then again I’ve had years of practice,” Harry replied. “I’ve been dealingwith this since I’ve been eleven,” he shrugged. “There’s not much they can doanymore to get to me.”

“Idon’t like it,” Snape admitted with a frown.

“Neitherdo I,” Harry also admitted.

Whentheir food arrived, they ate in silence for a while before Harry broke it onceagain.

“So howare classes going?”

“Studentsseem to be more stupid than ever and they seem to think by nearly killingthemselves they’ll somehow endear themselves to me,” Snape replied.

“Thatsounds… less than ideal.”

“Thiswhole idealization of me is irritating,” Snape said. “It’s caused problem afterproblem, and now it’s endangering the lives of my students. I want it overwith.”

“Goodluck with that,” Harry laughed and they continued to eat in peace again.

Snapelooked uncomfortable for moment. Harry kept eating. He figured if Snape hadanything to say to him, he could be the first one to talk. Harry just enjoyed hislamb.

“How doyou do it?” Snape finally asked after a while. It sounded like it might havepained him a bit to have to ask, but he was looking at Harry a bit desperately.

“Pardon?”Harry asked in confusion.

“How doyou deal with it,” Snape asked again, gritting his teeth. “With,” he searchedfor the words, and Harry waited patiently, “with all of it,” he said. Hisshoulders slumped a bit, just a fraction really, but it spoke loads to anyonewho’d been around him long enough.

“I justignore it,” Harry said simply. He watched Snape for a while. He took in thedark eyes, the bags under them, the tension running across Snape’s body, theway everything, even his skin, seemed to say tired, and done, andguessed. “You’re stressed,” he stated. Snape laughed bitterly.

“Yourgenius astounds me,” the man drawled.

“No,”Harry shook his head, “you don’t get it. Your problem isn’t the attention. Yourproblem is dealing with the stress that attention causes.” Snape looked backblankly at him. Harry shifted in his seat, leaning closer. “You need a way torelieve the stress. In Hogwarts, I used Quidditch. Now I use my work.”

“Andwhen your work is the cause of your stress?”

“I letloose by going out.”

“Whichin turn causes more stress from the scandalous sex tales that come aboutthereafter.”

“No, Idon’t care about them. Sex is actually a really good stress reliever,” Harrysaid with a shrug. “Maybe you should try that.”

“Whatdo you think I was trying to do tonight?” Snape asked, eyebrow raised.

“Wow,you weren’t even going to try to give this a chance?” Harry laughed. “What ifI’d been some fantastic man or woman that you’d be great with? You wouldn’teven try?”

Thatreceive two raised eyebrows.

“Don’ttry to act like you’re any better,” Snape replied. “You’re just here to nodoubt get Granger and Weasley to leave you alone,” Snape said, and it wasannoying how he managed to actually get it right.

“They’reboth Weasley, actually,” Harry pointed out. “For the record, I would have gavethe person a chance, if I thought they were worth it.” Harry felt a flare ofanger at the look Snape gave him at that. “I would have! In fact, I’d havegiven you a chance if you’d asked for it!”

“Howtouching,” Snape replied.

“It’sno wonder you’ve not got a girlfriend,” Harry muttered.

“Everyoneseems rather insistent that I have one of those,” Snape said, “It’s ratherannoying.”

“Whynot give it a shot then?”

“I’veyet to meet anyone who interests me for more than a few minutes,” Snape saidhonestly, and Harry wondered if the wine was getting to him. He was on histhird glass. “Everyone is so boring.”

“Youseem not to be too bored with me this evening,” Harry said and he actuallydidn’t mean to say that so maybe he should stop drinking the wine as well? Hewas only on the one glass, so he wasn’t sure why he said that. Impulse controlwas never his strong suit, but that was a bit-

Snape’slaugh cut his train of thought right off. “Are you saying you’d like to beconsidered?” Snape asked. This conversation was heading in a vastly differentdirection than it had been intended to go.

“Asyour girlfriend?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“I’dhave thought ‘boyfriend’ would do, but if that’s what you’d want to be called…”he trailed off with a smirk. He swirled his wine in his glass, looking down atthe red waves. “But I must admit, the idea of you in a dress and stockings israther intriguing,” he added before drinking the wine.

Harrysputtered. Snape smirked further.

“Ithink you’ve had enough,” Harry said and made to take Snape’s glass away. Snapelet him take the empty thing from him, and sat back in his chair in amusement.

“I’mnot drunk,” he said.

“Sureyou’re not.”

“Ithought you were the one who wanted us to play pretend?”

“Oh, doyou get drunk on all your dates? Is that the secret to wooing them all? Getdrunk then take them back to your place for a Fuck-N-Run.”

“Idon’t take anyone back to my place,” Snape replied. “Doesn’t make it easy to dothe ‘run’ bit if they’re the one who needs to leave.”

Harrylaughed. “Right. Of course.” Harry looked at his plate and Snape’s, andconcluded that they had both finished. “Let’s get you home,” he said beforedrinking the last few mouthfuls of his wine.

Snapeseemed to sober shockingly fast.

“Youseem to be under the delusion that I’m both drunk and in need of yourassistance,” his former professor said. “I assure you I am neither.”

Harrysighed at the hostile tone of Snape’s voice. They’d been having a nice time,for a second there at least. Not the type of conversation he’d imagined everhaving with Snape, but nice all the same. The look in Snape’s eyes now,however, told Harry he was one wrong word away from causing a fight and hereally did not want to deal with that.

He wasalready on a date. A real date. In public. With Snape. In this type ofrestaurant. People had been watching them all night. There was bound to begossip about it tomorrow if not an article the day after that. The last thinghe needed was Snape causing a scene.

“Can wenot do this here?” he asked. “Let’s just go.”

Snapedidn’t say anything. He simply got up and started walking to the door.

Harrysighed, and followed. Did the man have to be so bloody dramatic abouteverything?

Severuslet the cold February air hit him as he was deposited outside of therestaurant, the click of the doors sounding softly behind him. It was stillsnowing, and the streets were emptying at the late hour. With a mumbled spell,his body heated and he carried on down the street.

In thefresh snowfall, his footprints were covered up easily. He focused on that, andthe crisp air instead of what had happened inside. He wasn’t ready to thinkabout it, to fully process what had just occurred. Not until he had a canter ofscotch and his comfortable dressing gown on.

Regardlessof these plans, and his needs, his mind thought about it anyway. He’d agreed togo on a blind date, and his date had turned out to be Harry Potter. Despitewhat Harry had tried to convince them both, what they had just sat through wasa date.

A gooddate at that.

Severushadn’t expected it, and he was thrown off by it all. He berated himself forallowing the night to continue past Harry’s greeting, and especially for the flirting that had started towards theend of it. What was he thinking? All he wanted to do now was to get home, butof course, Harry bloody Potter wouldn’t let that happen.

“Severus!”Harry called, running to catch up.

Severusclosed his eyes at Harry saying his name. That bloody Gryffindor and hisinsistence to break all rules, even social. He was foolish, reckless idiot whowas going to give Severus more trouble, or at the least a headache. Again,Severus found himself asking what he was thinking.

Harrycaught up and he turned to face him. As he slowed down from his run, he put thecoat he had clearly grabbed on his way out the door on, the movement causinghim to stretch slightly and his shirt to go taunt on one side, revealing thelovely sculpted body that was hinted at by the clothing. His cheeks wereslightly rosy with the wind and exertion of running in the opposite directionit was blowing. His hair was ruffled by it as well, and his eyes were shinninga vivid green.

Yes.Well. It seemed Severus had his answer. He was thinking that Harry Potter was alittle bit gorgeous, and it wasn’t so hard to see why anyone would losethemselves in a date with him.

“Why’dyou leave like that?” Harry asked.

“I’mgoing home,” Severus replied.

Harryopened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as a lightbulb went off in a flash.He blinked in rapid succession, and they both turned to see Rita Skeeter appearfrom nowhere with a quill and parchment in the air and a lackey by her sidewith the camera. She had a thin-lipped grin on her face, with a smudge of red lipstickon her front teeth, which spoke of headlines and nefarious plans.

“SeverusSnape and Harry Potter out and about, eh?” the cockroach asked with a gleam inher eye. “Whatever shall we think of it?” She looked between them both, and thecamera went off again.

“How’dyou know where to find us?” Harry asked, looking irritated and confused. Thecamera went off again, this time aimed at just him.

“I’vegot my sources,” Skeeter said in a tone that told them all that she wasn’tsaying anything else on the matter. “Word is that you two were just at thatlittle restaurant with the fancy food, intimate spaces, and romanticatmosphere,” she said, gleefully teasing.

“Nocomment,” Harry said.

Severusglanced at him, unsure how to feel about that or any of this. He’d managed toavoid anything like this so far.

“Lookslike your boyfriend here’s a bit hurt by that,” Skeeter said, the quill writingaway and the camera going off in Severus’s face. “Care to comment,” she said,question for either of them.

“We’renot together!” Harry sputtered.

“Justtwo heroes out on a romantic stroll through the glittering snow after anintimate dinner on valentine’s day?”

“It’snot valentine’s day!” Harry said incredulously.

Skeeterdidn’t reply. The quill, however, kept writing.

“Doesthis mean you’re done with your playboy days, Harry?” Skeeter asked after abeat.

“I’mnot-“

“Throwingaway the strings of girls, and boys, who you’ve left broken hearted aftersingle nights of fevered passion, all because you’ve found love with your DeathEater turned Hero, Order of Merlin First Class, former Professor SeverusSnape?” Skeeter said in one breath, cutting Harry off as the quill scratchedaway furiously, stopping on the last syllabus of Skeeter’s spun story.

“Youforgot renown Potions Master,” Harry muttered sarcastically. Skeeter’s eyesnarrowed and the quill seemed to look at Harry as well before it jotted thatdown too. Harry’s jaw locked, and his hands fisted his robes.

“Ithink it best for you to leave,” Severus said calmly.

Skeeterlooked at him in amusement.

“Leave?”she repeated as if the idea were ludicrous. “I’m just getting started.”

Withnarrowed eyes of his own, Severus simply replied, “I think not,” in a firm,quiet voice.

Skeeterlooked back at him without a drop of hesitation, and turned back to Harry. “Howdoes it feel being in love? Afraid it’ll end like your last relationship?Splashed out on the pages of every newspaper and magazine for everyone to seeyou were simply being used for their fifteen minutes of fame, never reallyloved, just used and manipulated as you’ve always been, nobody to truly carefor you, only ever wanted for your body and money, never truly wanted for-“

“That,”Severus said, stepping forward and lowering his voice in a threatening tone,“is quite enough.”

Skeeterpaused, and Severus kept his hard gaze on her even as she kept her eyes onHarry. The flash of a camera went off, and Severus snapped.

Hiswand was in his hand before Skeeter could blink. “Flipendo,” he said quietly,casting the jinx and following it up with, “Furnunculus,” as Skeeter fell tothe ground. The lackey froze, and Severus just raised an eyebrow at him. Theman disapparated on the spot. To Skeeter, Severus looked down and whispered,“if you come near either me or Mister Potter again, I’ll do a lot more thanthat.”

It wasthe tamest threat he’d made yet Skeeter whimpered.

Withnothing else to say, Severus continued walking down the street, leaving Harrystaring open mouthed at Skeeter on the ground, boils covering her face.

He hadalmost made it a good ten feet before Harry caught up with him again. The youngauror jogged up to his side, clearly trying to say something but unable to putit into words. Severus held back from commenting on his lack of eloquence, butjust barely.

“Thanks,”Harry said eventually.

“It tookyou that long to come up with that?” Severus asked, and damn he’d been doing sowell not commenting on Harry’s utterlack of control over the English language.

“I’dlike to say more, but it all really just leads back to that,” Harry said.

Severushadn’t stopped walking, and he was aware that being taller than Harry gave himthe advantage of long strides, but he didn’t slow down to accommodate for theshort Boy Who Lived Twice.

“Thatwas your first time dealing with it head on, wasn’t it?”

“Obviousam I?” Severus couldn’t help drawl back.

“Youcan’t really go around jinxing every reporter,” Harry laughed, and Severusstopped himself from saying ‘watch me’ and kept his mouth shut. “EspeciallySkeeter,” Harry continued. “She’ll write up a completely false story just tospite you for it now.”

“Ithought I was supposed to ignore it,” Severus said. Before Harry could answer,he continued with, “She should have stopped when I told her. She had no rightassuming those things.”

“Wellshe was kind of right,” Harry said tilting his head in thought.

Severuslooked at him sharply. In what way, exactly, was Skeeter right? Despite theirlittle conversation, they were most certainly not dating, and as Harry hadinsisted that was not a date that they had just been on. Or were on?

“I’m abit curious as to what she’ll write up now,” Harry admitted.

“Andhere I thought you’d put your arrogant, self-centered ways behind you,” Severusreplied. Harry chuckled. “It’ll probably be something about you declaring yourundying love for me,” he said, thinking aloud.

“Probably,”Harry agreed.

“Youdon’t seem too upset,” Severus pointed out lightly.

“As yousaid,” Harry replied, “you’re supposed to ignore what they write.” They turned thecorner, the floos were in sight at the far end of the street. “Besides, I havealways fancied you a bit since fifth year,” Harry added nonchalantly.

Severus’sbrain went blank for a second, and he barely managed to keep walking. He felthimself tense and couldn’t even wonder if Harry had noticed because he himselfwasn’t capable of thought at the moment because what the bloody fuck did he just say?

“Severus?”Harry called and when Severus blinked, he saw that they were standing in frontof the floos.

Oh.

“Perhapsyou shouldn’t floo right now?” Harry said worriedly. Severus didn’t sayanything. “Why don’t we walk around a bit longer?” Harry suggested. “There’s anice little lake a couple streets over with a bridge across it.”

Severusnodded.

They walkedback out onto the main street in silence. Severus wasn’t sure how to react. Hesuddenly felt very self-conscious and was overly aware of everything aroundhim. He heard the crunch of the snow beneath their feet, the muffled music frominside a store, the soft sounds of life behind the doors of another restaurantthey pass. It was all sharp and focused and a bit overwhelming.

Harry,of course, was oblivious to what he’d done.

“Thiswasn’t so bad as far as blind dates go,” Harry said and that was not the rightthing for him to say, but maybe it was because finally Severus found words.

“Ithought it wasn’t a date,” he replied.

“I saidit could be if you wanted,” Harry countered.

Acouple seconds of silence went by, and before Harry could ask, Severus said, “Isuppose it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, no.”

“Didyou, er, did you ever fancy me?” Harry asked. “Before? Like I did? Not that I’msaying you do now, although I was rather under the impression that you mightfrom what-“

“Yes,”Severus cut the babbling off.

“Oh,”Harry replied. “Good.”

Severusdidn’t respond.

“Didyou ever fancy me as a student?” Harry asked nervously.

Yes, Severus thought. Aloud he said,“Perhaps,” and left it at that.

“Oh,”Harry said. Then, “Why didn’t you ever do anything about it?”

“Youwere my student,” Severus answered, looking at Harry to see how he couldpossibly not understand that.

“So?”

Severusglared at him.

Hecouldn’t be serious. How could he not understand? Harry was in fifth year. Hewas his student. He was Harry bloody Potter. He was a reckless, troublesome,impulsive, beautiful Gryffindor. Nothing would have happened. Nothing could have happened.

“Weshould have done this ages ago,” Harry said, letting it go.

“Dowhat?”

“Go outon a date.”

“Oh, sofinally admitting it, are we?”

“Ididn’t mind admitting it! I told you that it could be that if you wanted!You’re the one who didn’t say anything!” Harry huffed.

“Like Isaid, I don’t date.”

“Fuck-N-Run,”Harry said.

Severusfound himself smiling at Harry’s tone. “Although, I must agree. We should havedone this sooner.”

It wasas close to romantic as he was going to let himself get.

Theyhad made it to the lake. Severus looked out at it, and had to admit it wasrather beautiful. The frozen lake had a thin covering of snow on it, and itsparkled in the moonlight. The bridge was wrought iron, and the railing wasintricately detailed with loops and crosses. A sliver of moonlight shone acrossthe lake. There were several lamp posts scattered throughout the small parkgiving just enough of light to the rest of the park.

Theywalked onto the bridge and stopped half way. Snape didn’t seem to be in themood to say anything more, but Harry itched to talk. They’d just admitted to fancyingeach other eight years ago, and possibly for that duration. They had things todiscuss.

Like ifthey could do this again. Next Friday. Or sooner.

Harryleaned against the railing, sighing as he tried to think of something to say.He was aware of Snape standing rather rigidly next to him, and he felt a pangof regret for having caused Snape’s relaxed state to vanish in the restaurant.It had been so nice. Snape was so different when he relaxed. Well, notdifferent, not really. He was still his sarcastic, venomous, brilliant self.There was just something, a small change that made a big difference, which madehim feel different that Harry hadsensed.

Harrycollided with the floor of the bridge with a heavy thud, gasping at the impactand cold.

“Expelliarmus,”Snape’s deep voice said. Harry turned quickly, pushing to a sitting position asSnape then said, “Orbis,” in a quiet and deadly voice.

Withwide eyes, Harry saw a man with a scruffy beard and a crumpled robe get suckedinto the ground. He yelled in anger, wiggling the top part of his body as hetried to get out. Snape’s narrowed gaze watched every movement as he held hiswand ready.

Aboutto thank the man for yet again saving his life, Harry opened his mouth a momentbefore he spotted another wizard appear at the end of the bridge. He whippedhis wand out, causing Snape’s eyes to snap to him, and yelled out, “Expelliarmus!”

Thewizard blocked this disarming spell easily, and Harry jumped up as he did so.Snape turned to face the wizard, wand up and eyes glittering with recognition.It was a reminder to Harry that they had yet to round up all the Death Eaters,and that Snape was in danger every day as a result.

“LocomotorMortis,” the Death Eater said, the leg-locking curse aimed at Snape.

Harry jumpedin front of him shielded them both with a flick of his wand. “Ebublio,” Harrycast, but the Death Eater managed to dodge out of the way before being encasedin a bubble. “Petrificus Totalus!” Harry tried again.

“Confringo!”the Death Eater said as he spun away from the spell. Harry and Snape jumpedback as the bright teal light hurtled towards them. It hit a tree at theopposite end of the park and exploded it into smithereens.

Panting,Harry looked over to check if Snape was okay. The man was pushing himself to astand, his wand already up.

“Crucio!”the Death Eater yelled before Snape was able to say a thing.

Harryran, shoving himself into Snape and tackling him to the ground as the red lightmissed them both narrowly.

“Potter!”Snape yelled indignantly.

“Expulso!”the Death Eater yelled again, walking towards them.

Harryignored Snape, pushing up to a kneeling position and blocking the older wizardfrom view. He blocked the burst of blue light from hitting either of them, andraised his wand. “Locomotor Wibbly,” Harry said, and the man wasn’t fast enoughto block the curse. He fell to the ground with a yell as his legs gave out.

Harrythrew another jinx at him, but the Death Eater seemed to have better reflexesthan most of his friends, as he rolled away and back up on his feet.

TheTempest jinx was flying at Harry before he could get away, but Snape suddenlyyanked him back down. The lightning strikes hit another tree, and a fire burstto life in the park. Harry looked down at Snape, and smiled before the olderman pushed him off and they both stood.

BeforeSnape could cast anything back, Harry hit the Death Eater with a stinging jinx.As the man yelped in pain, Harry pushed himself off Snape and back onto hisfeet. Instantly, he was dueling with the Death Eater, curses and jinxes flyingback and forth.

WhenHarry narrowly missed the sickly green light of the killing curse, Snape triedto jump into the fight with a spell Harry hadn’t heard before. It wasridiculous that Snape still knew so much more than Harry when it was Harry’sjob to know these things, but then again Harry wouldn’t be surprised to learnthat it was one of Snape’s own inventions.

TheDeath Eater sent a curse back at Snape, but Harry interfered, earning amurderous glare from his former professor. Harry didn’t have time to event sendhim an apologetic glance as the Death Eater turned his attention back to him.

“Crucio!”the Death Eater called out again, but their dueling had taken it’s toll on himand he wobbled forward as he cast it, causing the curse to miss Harry byseveral feet.

Italmost hit Snape, as the man once again tried to join the fight. Enough wasenough, Harry decided. He wouldn’t let Snape get hurt. He was the auror here,and it was high time he showed them all why he was, as Hermione pointed out,the best the Ministry had.

“PetrificusTotalus,” Harry said with a hint of apology, aiming it at Snape. The man lookedback in complete surprise. Harry guessed the only reason he didn’t block it wasthat he clearly was not expecting it, and there was a look of betrayal on hisface right before he went rigid. “Stupefy!” Harry yelled at the Death Eaterwalking towards them both, forcing himself back into the fight and his guiltaway.

TheDeath Eater blocked it easily, continuing his advance. He threw severalwordless spells at Harry, but Harry blocked every one of them. They were fastlocked back into their duel, lunging and spinning as deadly spells were flungat each other. Harry was relentless, casting nonverbal and verbal spells oneafter the other as he blocked those that came at him.

As justa couple minutes went by, Harry noted the Death Eater was tiring out, and heleapt on his chance. He increased the speed of his attacks as he fired offspell after spell. The Death Eater stumbled back, but managed to steady himselfon a tree. He threw another Cruciatus Curse at Harry, but Harry was able toduck it and yell back, “Sectumsempra,” as he did. 

Stillfrozen, Snape couldn’t react, but Harry found himself glancing at the man allthe same. He wondered how he felt at hearing Harry use his curse. This errorcost Harry, as suddenly he was found himself hit with a spell that knocked thebreath out of him and sent him flying over the bridge.

The iceon the lake cracked with a harsh sound, and Harry had a split second to gasp atthe impact and the sting across his arm and hands before he was plummeted intothe icy water below. The cold rushed across his body, soaking into his verybones and he swam up to the surface urgently.

Hemanaged to gasp for air before seeing a red light coming at him in hisperipheral vision. He ducked back under the water, pushing his hands againstthe ice underneath to force himself deep down into the lake.

The iceabove cracked once more and then the water above rippled violently as anexplosion shook the water. Harry started to swim, trying to get away and keephold of his wand as the cold started to freeze him. His fingers were feelingnumb and he was running out of air, but the Death Eater kept throwing curseafter curse after him.

Harrycould hear muffled cries of various blasting and exploding curses. He looked upjust in time to see the ice take the green light of the killing curse, blastingit apart. Harry started to swim back the other way, desperately needing air nowand unable to cast anything when his fingers were so cold he wasn’t sure hecouldn’t feel them around his wand.

As hebroke the surface he gasped, and the cold weather hit his wet, freezing body.He pushed himself out of the water quickly as another curse came hurtlingtowards him. He rolled across the ice, thankful that it didn’t crack againunder him and plunge him back in the water below.

Harrycast a nonverbal heating charm on his fingers as the Death Eater made his wayacross the bridge for better aim at Harry. Feeling was coming back into hisfingers, but it wasn’t quick enough for Harry to block the pale light that leftthe Death Eater’s wand. Harry rolled away again just as the spell hit him inthe side. It sliced through, warm blood dripping oozing out in large dropletsbefore starting to gush properly. The water still on Harry’s body helped theblood spread across his body and soak into his clothes, dripping down onto thewhite snow and clear ice.

“Impedimenta!”Harry yelled, gritting his teeth against the pain and getting up.

TheDeath Eater was caught by the jinx, and was raising his arm in slow motion, hiseyes just starting to widen in recognition of the spell that came at him.

“Expelliarmus!”Harry yelled then, wasting no time. The Death Eater’s wand went flying. “Incarcerous!”Harry yelled again as he walked over.

Tied uptight in a thick rope on the bridge, the Death Eater struggled to free himself tono avail. The impediment jinx had worn off, but with no wand to untie himselfand no hands free, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Itseemed that Snape had regained the ability to move, and was no standing up. Helooked over to where Harry stood by the Death Eater, a mix of emotions on hisface before he hid them all behind a blank mask. Harry tried not to bristle atthe fact that Snape felt he still needed to hide around him.

Harrylooked at the other wizard, still in the ground who was now shouting. “Melofors,”he said quietly, wand pointed lazily at him, and the man’s head was incased ina pumpkin.

“Really,Potter?” Snape said disapprovingly.

Harryshrugged, and then gasped in pain as the movement reminded him of the slice onhis side. He hissed in pain as he lifted his arm to see the blood stainedjacket quickly darkening as more warm blood seeped into it. His jacket andshirt was ruined, and it would be a miracle if the entire outfit wasn’t donefor.

“Let mesee,” Snape said suddenly right in front of him.

Harrylooked up and Snape’s dark eyes met his own. He didn’t look angry. Well, okayhe did, but not the type of angry that was aimed at Harry. Which made no sense.His eyes gave away his concern though, and that made Harry laugh, which in turncaused the concern to flee and the eyes to narrow.

“I’m sorry,”Harry said shaking his head. “It’s just that I thought I’d be fighting you nextconsidering what I did,” he explained.

“Yes,well we can deal with your utter lack of self-preservation another time,” Snapesaid, looking at Harry so that he knew that time would definitely come, justnot now. “Right now you’re hurt and you need medical attention.

“I’mfine,” Harry shook his head.

Hiscoat had a growing dark patch of blood, and the wound was clearly not going tostop bleeding any time soon as the blood dripped down from underneath his coatand onto the bridge. He had left a dripping trail of blood all the way over,which was mixed in with the water that was also dripping off him. He wasshivering from the plunge he took into the lake and the weather outside thatblew an unforgiving wind. He was panting and wheezing, and he could barely keephis eyes open, which Severus wasn’t sure was due to the exertion of what justhappened or the amount of blood he was losing.

“Youare not fine, Harry,” he said. An array of healing charms and potions werelisting themselves in his head, and he made up his mind in a matter of seconds.“I’m taking you back to Hogwarts.”

“Poppyhas enough to worry about without me being there,” Harry tried to laugh butended up grimacing in pain. “Besides, I’m no longer a student,” he added.

“I hadno such plans to take you to Poppy,” Severus replied. “Who do you think brewsall the potions she would be giving you anyway?” he asked with an eyebrowraised.

“Youmean…”

“We’llbe apparating directly into my quarters.”

“But-“

Severusglared at him.

“I’m-“

“If youtry to tell me that you’re fine again I’ll add another jinx to the pile you’ve alreadybeen hit with tonight,” Severus threatened.

“St.Mungo’sthen!” Harry said and Severus wondered why Harry was so against going to hisquarters. “They treat me all the time, and once the other aurors arrive to takethese two they’ll order me there anyway,” Harry said. At Severus’s unchanginglook, he added, “They’re sure to have the same potions as you,” as if thatwould help his case.

Severussnorted at the statement in disgust.

“I’moffended that you would think their potions to be remotely as good as mine.They buy them in stock from some supplier in Ireland,” he explained. “They arenot nearly as good as mine, and you won’t be having them. I also don’t knowwhere this idea that I’d be allowing you to wait around here while you eitherfreeze to death or bleed out just for some bloody aurors to show up to takethese pathetic excuses of wizards away, came from.”

AsHarry clearly tried to think of a reply to that, Severus glanced around to seea crowd had started to form now that the fight had ended. Witches and Wizardswere whispering, some with their wands out in case, others far too caught up inall the drama to think about any further danger.

Annoyed,Severus grabbed Harry’s hand and disapparated them before someone could take apicture.

With acrack, they appeared in Severus’s living room. Severus was aware of the factthat nobody other than Albus has seen his quarters, and having Harry thereshould have felt like an infringement of his privacy, but he didn’t feel thatway at all as Harry practically collapsed in his arms.

“Easythere, Potter,” he said quietly, arms wrapped around the injured auror.

“’SHarry,” was the mumbled reply as green eyes fluttered closed.

Severuspicked him up in his arms, bridal style, and laid him on his black couch. He’ddeal with the blood stains later. Harry whimpered in pain and turned his headwith a wrinkle of his brow. Sighing, Severus looked down and raised his wandover him.

Hebanished all of Harry’s clothes on his top half, leaving him completely dressedbelow the waist. The blood soaked clothing was in a pile on the floor, soppingwet and smelling of iron. Harry shivered and Severus wished he could cast aheating charm to warm him up, but didn’t want to cause the blood to startgushing as it seemed to be slowing ever so slightly. Instead, he covered Harrywith an accio-ed Slytherin green blanket and went to his private store ofpotions.

Hepicked out several, including a blood replenishing one, and headed back toHarry. He placed the potions on the coffee table and kneeled beside thewheezing body. He quietly intoned, “Vulnera Sanentur,” continuing his chantuntil the deep wound on Harry’s side closed up.

Harrywas still wheezing, so he lightly moved his hands to the young man’s rib cage.He pressed down, ignoring Harry’s cry of pain, and felt a small break along histwo of his ribs. He checked with his wand, and confirmed that Harry hadfractured two ribs, most likely when he had been thrown off the bridge.

“Ferula,”Severus cast, binding and splitting the bones. He then placed a warming charmover Harry before turning to the potions on the table. He gave him the bloodreplenishing one first, tipping it into Harry’s mouth and ordering him toswallow.

Alittle voice in his mind told him of all the scenarios he had thought of fortonight that might have involved that exact order, this had not been one ofthem. He told it to shut up, and focused on getting the other potions intoHarry.

As thelast drop of the final potion made its way down Harry’s throat, Severus removedthe blanket covering the young auror. He couldn’t see anything properly as theblood had dried across Harry’s skin. Severus held the tip of his wand rightover the mess, and said, “Tergeo.”

Oncethe dried blood had gone, he could see the faint, long scar that was leftbehind by the slice. Harry opened his eyes slowly, and Severus looked back. Asmile came to Harry’s lips.

“Thankyou,” the young man said. He looked around the room, and Severus wondered whathe was thinking. “You don’t invite anyone back to your place,” Harry recalledaloud.

Severusdidn’t reply.

Harry lookedat him again, a smile stretching his lips.

“Doesthat make me special?” he asked bravely in a teasing tone.

“You’vealways been special,” Severus replied automatically. Harry’s smile widened.

“Ihave, have I?”

“Always,”Severus confirmed, and he hadn’t been aware that they had been leaning in, butnow here they were. Harry’s face was rather close to his, so close that hecould feel his breath on his face and notice the gleam of mischief in the greeneyes, and he had time enough to think that maybe he shouldn’t have given him aPepper Up potion and instead should have let him sleep it off.

ThenHarry was kissing him.

Hislips were chapped and cold, but they were solid beneath his and filled him withwarmth regardless. Harry pulled back for a split second, their lips touchingstill before he pressed forward again and gave him two more smaller, gentlekisses, as if he were testing the waters.

AsHarry went back for a fourth small kiss, Severus moved his hand to the back ofHarry’s head, keeping him in place as he kissed him back. He pressed forward,not letting Harry get away with another delicate press of their lips. He wantedto feel this.

Severus locked their lips together as he movedforward on his knees to press himself further against the edge of the couch andcloser to Harry. He licked across Harry’s bottom lip, and the second his mouthparted he dipped his tongue into the hot mouth.

Relentless,much like Harry had been during that duel, Severus mapped every inch of Harry’smouth. His mind was a jumble of flashbacks, remembering Harry fighting. He’dbeen shocked when Harry had hit him with that curse, and thought for a secondthat Harry had misunderstood, thought that Severus had planned it, and was nowturning against him. Then Harry had fought the Death Eater, forcing him backand away from him, and Severus understood that Harry was protecting him. He didfeel frustrated that Harry thought he was allowed to come to his rescue, andSeverus conveyed that feeling in the kiss. He made it hard, biting, anddominant so that Harry would never question what type of man Severus was.

“Sorry,”Harry gasped away, gulping in air as he clearly got the message.

Severusbrought his mouth back to his own and sighed into the kiss as his tongue wassurrounded by the hot and wet of Harry’s mouth, where it should be. He deepenedthe kiss, stroking deeper into Harry’s mouth, as he pulled Harry close to him.

Flashesof Harry dueling replayed in his mind. He was so fast, so effortless. As ifdueling came as natural as breathing. It was no wonder he was the best aurorthere was, but Merlin was it a sight to behold. Spells came from his lips withease, and Severus groaned at the thought of that as Harry’s tongue movedagainst his own. Severus thought of Harry fighting again, of the way he seemedto think a mile a minute and make fighting, a split second away from death,seem like a beautiful dance as he lunged and dodged, as he spun and cast. Hispower flowed through him and into every spell, the slightest flick of his wristcausing possible devastation. Yet, Harry never once used an Unforgivable. Hewas so talented when it came to dueling. As if the very thing existed solelyfor him.

Severuspulled Harry on top of him as he moaned deep within his chest. His hand slid toHarry’s arse, squeezing as he pulled him up the length of his body, and down tobring them together. Harry gasped into his mouth before letting out a deliciousmoan and sucking on his tongue. Severus encouraged him by continuing to squeezehis arse and starting to grind up into him.

Theycame up for air, and Harry kept his lips away against Severus’s wishes as hehung his head, eyes closed as he focused on their groins. He pushed down hard,making their rutting even more blissful and pulling a gasp from Severus aswell. Harry panted about him, small little grunts coming out of him every sooften.

It wasdisgustingly good. Impossibly good. Abysmally good. Sinful in the dirtiest waysand Severus couldn’t stop. Theypanted and thrust against each other, Severus wasn’t able to settle on closinghis eyes from the utter bliss or forcing them open to watch Harry’s debauchedexpression. Just as he would do the latter the sensations would steal hisbreath away and his eyes would close. He was lost in what felt like everythingright in the world before Harry would make a dirty little sound and he had toopen his eyes to look at the wicked faces Harry made.

Likeboiling shots of promised pure pleasure, Severus’s orgasm started to build lowin stomach. Part of him wanted, needed, the release desperately. This baserside of him egged him on, bringing filthy things to his mind. Filling it withthe earth shattering possibilities of noises that Harry would make, and howhe’d look. Asking him if he wanted to get that blissful feeling along withHarry, making them both hot and sticky with their come. The answers to thesequestions were, of course, yes. More than anything, and the mere thoughts hadhis orgasm building steadily, that so close feeling almost too much for him tothink of denying. Screaming at him to just go a little further and then he’dhave it.

Severuswas thrusting more erratically now, these thoughts tumbling around in his headand making him moan out as Harry seemed to be in the exact same position, callingout in a series of long ah’s as he built crushed their pelvises together.

It wasonly when their pricks brushed, and Severus almost yelled out at it that theother part of him managed to get heard. It’s message was simple: if he came nowthen he wouldn’t be able to fuck Harry yet, and didn’t he want to know whatthat was like? To feel himself buried inside Harry?

Theanswer was a strong and desperate yes.

Severusgrabbed Harry’s hips tightly, stopping him from thrusting any further. Harrywhined and tried to thrust anyway, the absolute loss of control getting toSeverus and forcing him to have to close his eyes in attempt to not orgasmanyway.

“Sev,”Harry pleaded, unable to get anymore of his name out as he made a desperatesound.

“Notyet,” Severus replied, eyes still shut, “not yet.”

Harryrelented and dropped down, his body resting on Severus’s, his pants hitting hisrobes. Severus almost laughed at the thought. He was still fully dressed. He’dalmost came and he hadn’t even taken his clothes off. He smiled into Harry’shair, which was conveniently right under his chin as Harry tucked himself intohim as he calmed down. Severus placed a kiss on his head, one hand staying onHarry’s arse as the other traveled to his back. He stroked the smooth, leanmuscle and smiled at Harry’s content sigh.

Soonenough, Harry’s hands found him as well. They started to tug on his robes, andhe moved his head to look down at Harry. Green eyes met his.

“Wantthem off,” Harry said resolutely, then went back to tugging. He managed to pushthe black material off his shoulders, and Severus just let him, not activelyhelping. “Sev,” Harry whined when he couldn’t tug the material any further withSeverus’s arms wrapped around him the way they were.

Severuswondered if this new nickname was something Harry planned to use in the future,and gave Harry, or rather his hair, a curious glance. He wasn’t completelyaverse to the idea, but only for Harry. He’d thoroughly hex anyone else – Albusincluded – if they even tried. As he thought about this, Harry sneakily managedto pull the robes from his arms. Severus smirked at Harry’s sound of victory,and stroked his hand across Harry’s arse, earning a lovely little yearningmoan.

Harry’shand traveled down his chest, stroking over his coat as he fingered eachbutton. Feeling calmer, Severus decided their mouths had been apart for far toolong, so his hand moved from the young man’s back up to his head, tilting it upfor a kiss.

Harry kissedhim without hesitation, automatically opening his mouth and making Severussmirk into the kiss. It was much slower than before, and Severus tangled histongue with Harry’s almost lazily. He could feel sparks of arousal swirlinghigher as he felt the delicious glide of wet, hot muscle against his tongue.

Handsroamed his chest as Harry got more into the kiss, making small noises thatspiked Severus’s arousal further. The kiss stayed slow, but it turned filthy ona dime. Severus showed Harry what it was like to get his mouth fucked by atongue and all Harry could do in response was moan brokenly as his handsstarted pulling buttons undone.

Severusfelt each button pop undone as Harry worked, all twelve coming undone in recordtime. Harry, when motivated, always excelled at whatever he did. Severusrewarded his efficiency by moving Harry hips until they were once again linedup, and thrust against him.

A needto touch Harry’s naked skin came to him in a surge of want. His hand slippedfrom Harry’s hip and wiggled their way between their bodies. He was faintlyaware of Harry pushing his coat open and attacking the buttons of his whiteshirt. Severus’s fingers grazed across a hard length in Harry’s trousers andthey both moaned.

FeelingHarry’s erection pressing against him through his robes as they rutted was onething. Being able to touch just it through trousers was something elseentirely. Severus’s fingers traced it down the length and back up, noting thatit distracted Harry enough to leave him panting with his forehead againstSeverus’s still clothed chest. He stroked Harry’s prick roughly, pulling awhine from the young man that broke at the top.

“Feelgood?” Severus asked in a voice that plunged into darkness. Harry bucked intohis touch as he stoked him again.

Severusdidn’t move his hand as Harry pulled back to look him in the eyes. Harry’s eyeswere lust filled with pupils blown wild and shining in the candle light.Severus’s hips bucked up themselves at the heated gaze, and he moved to tasteHarry’s mouth again but found the lips busy in a grin.

“Whatare you grinning at?” he asked suspiciously. Harry’s grin widened and his eyesdipped down to Severus’s body. In retaliation, Severus bucked his hips up andstayed there to grind against Harry, pulling more lovely moans out of him. Severussmirked in satisfaction, but it didn’t last long as Harry turned his face backto him, and the grin was wider.

“I’vejust realized that I’ve never seen you out of your coat before,” Harryexplained. He ran his hands up Severus’s chest, and Severus could feel thewarmth from Harry’s hands through his shirt. Harry glanced up at him throughlong black lashes.

With aneyebrow raised, Severus replied, “Well, you’re about to see mi in much less, soI suggest you get your amusement out now.”

“Notamusement,” Harry told him, silently accio-ing his wand to him. He pointed itat Severus’s shirt as he said, “Appreciation.”

Withthat he drew a line down Severus’s shirt, straight down the buttons, cuttingthe shirt open with a nonverbal as he did so. Severus gasped, and his head fellto the ground, neck arching back as he suddenly found himself panting, hisarousal spiked as high as it had been during their rutting in seconds.

“Muchbetter,” Harry murmured before lowering his head to place a kiss on Severus’schest, right above his heart.

“Harry,”Severus croaked.

“Let’shurry this up,” Harry responded, and his wand tip touched Severus’s trousersand they vanished. He did the same to his own a second later.

Severusgroaned deeply as he felt Harry’s toned thighs straddling him, skin to skin.Harry didn’t help as he wiggled his hips back and forth, making Severusextremely aware of them both being naked except for boxers and Harry wassitting on top of him. Severus placed his hands on Harry’s bare waist and strokedthe soft skin as he felt Harry’s hands caress his chest.

“Onemore thing,” Harry whispered, his lips suddenly a breath away.

Unableto put meaning to the words with such a distraction, Severus just closed thedistance between them and kissed him. Harry chose that moment to do away withtheir boxers as well, and then there was unfathomable bliss as their pricksfinally met without anything in the way. Instead of moaning loudly into Harry’smouth, Severus got his own back and kissed Harry breathless.

Harrybroke the kiss to gulp air into his lungs. Severus closed his eyes and lethimself focus on the wonderful feeling of Harry, completely naked, on top ofhim. 

“Lube?”Harry asked.

“You’rea wizard, Harry,” Severus drawled, not opening his eyes, hands on Harry’s hips.

“There’sspells for this?”

At Harry’s surprised tone, Severus opened his eyes in concern.

“Surelyyou’re joking?” He blinked. “You’re not joking.” He sighed, looking down atHarry’s lovely body pressed against his, smooth, toned, defined, and hard. “Iwas under the impression Poppy had that discussion with you all yearly startingthird year.

“Imissed them,” Harry said.

“Everyyear?”

“I wasa little busy most of the time, if you hadn’t noticed,” Harry replied.

“Youdidn’t think to ask your Prefect or Minerva how to make them up?”

“Pleasedon’t mention Professor McGonagall when we’re naked and hard, and you’re aboutto fuck me,” Harry said with a look of disgust.

Severuscocked an eyebrow at him.

“Aboutto fuck? You’ve not even been prepared,” he purred.

“Nospells for that, then?” Harry asked, “Good, that’d be embarrassing consideringthe amount of wizards I’ve already been with,” he muttered.

Severus’sgrip tightened on Harry’s hips as a wave of anger washed over him. “If youdon’t want me to mention your Head of House, then you’ll remember not mentionany previous lovers,” he seethed. “Or this,” he thrust against Harry, bitingback his moan as their unclothed pricks slid against each other for the firsttime, “won’t ever happen.”

“I justmeant that I don’t know the spells, and if that’s how everyone does it then I’msurprised nobodies added that detail to their stories when they run and telleveryone that they just got fucked by Harry Potter,” Harry explained after agasp.

“Whilethey are available to use, some people do prefer to do it the muggle waystill,” Severus said. “Personally, I don’t see a difference if the correctspell is used for lubrication. Oils can be messy and if it’s a potion, usuallyexpensive and for more… advanced sex.”

“Kinky,”Harry laughed. “So, you know how to make those I’m guessing,” he said beforemoving to kiss along Severus’s jaw.

“Ofcourse,” Severus replied, enjoying the attention, especially as Harry reachedthe scarred tissue where Nagini had struck. He couldn’t help the moans thatcame out, and Harry picked up on them. He licked broad strips across it. “Now,however, we’ll be using the spell,” Severus said, and Harry must have lickedthe vibrations under his lips and tongue as his prick twitched.

“Willyou teach me?” Harry asked, lips grazing Severus’s neck.

Severusaccio-ed his wand and felt a smile against his neck. He slid the tip of hiselegant black wand down Harry’s back, making the young man shudder, and down tohis arse. He moved his other hand to one of Harry’s arse cheeks and pulled itslightly away. Harry moaned.

“Lubrico,”he said, wand tip aimed at Harry’s hole.

“Oh,”Harry said, a frown coming to his face as he no doubt felt the liquid drippingout of him. Severus knew even though it was warm and just the right amount, itstill felt odd the first few times. Harry wiggled around as he tested it out,and Severus had to bite his lip. It was as if he’d never done it before.

Severusstilled, his mind replaying what Harry had said a few minutes before.

considering the amount of wizardsI’ve already been with

when they run and tell everyone thatthey just got fucked by Harry Potter

Severuscleared his throat.

“Harry?”he asked lightly.

“Yeah?”Harry wasn’t paying attention, too busy moving his hips and focusing on, whatSeverus was now understanding to be, a completely new sensation.

“You’venever bottomed, have you?” he said plainly.

Harrystopped undulating his hips. Green eyes met black. A sheepish look came to hisface before it was replaced with a frown.

“Ididn’t want any of them too,” he said. “It feels more intimate. Too muchvulnerability for a quick fuck with someone you don’t know. It’s not somethingI’d ever consider with, as you say, a Fuck-N-Run.”

“Ah,”Severus said in acknowledgement. He was sure if he should think too much aboutthat, but he certainly noted the warm little ball he got in his chest.

“Youdon’t mind, do you?” Harry asked, looking nervously down at him.

Severusstared back at him blankly.

“Harry,no man in their right mind would ever refuse taking you, let alone yourvirginity,” he stated.

“I’mnot a virgin!”

“Youare when it comes to bottoming, and that makes you have a sweet virgin arsethat’s completely unclaimed,” Severus replied. To his glee, a blush spreadacross Harry’s cheeks.

How wasthis foolish romantic ever considered a playboy?

“Nobodyhas yet acquaint you with the joys of anal stimulation,” Severus continued,slipping a finger down Harry’s crack and swiping its pad across his hole. “I’llbe sure to give you a thorough introduction.” His finger pressed in, and Harrymoaned at the stretch. As he felt the tight heat, Severus sucked in a breath.“Perhaps more than an introduction,” he corrected.

Heopened Harry slowly, making sure he was fully used to one finger pushing in andout of him before he complied with his pleas of ‘more’ and the like. It was awonder that he didn’t explode at the sounds Harry made as he was stretched.They were truly sinful.

As hemoved to two fingers, Harry discovered what pushing back against them could dofor him. Severus accidentally ended up knuckle deep as he hadn’t expected it.He watched Harry’s face for painful regret, but the little minx simply smiledwith pleasure, a happy huff of breath coming from his slightly parted mouth.

Severustwisted his fingers, pulling all sorts of sounds from Harry, as his eyes burneddarkly while he watched the various blissful faces Harry made. Scissoring hisfingers brought Harry’s hips into overdrive, and soon Severus managed to add athird without problem.

“Please,”Harry begged.

Severuspurred at the sound.

“Please,”Harry whined again.

“What?”Severus asked, feigning innocents as he hooked his fingers and shoved them inand out a little harder. On the fourth thrust in, he touched Harry’s prostateand Harry bucked as he yelled out from the sensation.

“Ineed-” Harry whined as Severus massaged the sensitive gland. “I’m so-“

Catchingon, Severus fingered Harry harder, battering his prostate until Harry wasliterally quivering above him. Harry’s prick was leaking constantly, the liquidstarting to coat Severus’s own prick. He moaned as Harry shifted his weight andleaned back to get more control. As Harry thrust his hips down harder to meetSeverus’s fingers, his prick bobbed straight up.

Harry’seyes were closed, and he was so obviously right there, that Severus decided tomake him lose it. He leaned forward, not stopping his pace as he thrust hisfingers in and out of Harry’s now loosened hole. As his mouth hovered overHarry’s prick, he looked up to the lust lost mess fucking himself as hard as hecould.

“Harry,”Severus said calmly, and just as Harry’s shinning green eyes met his, heswallowed Harry’s prick down to the root in one smooth movement.

Harryyelled his release, coming into Severus’s mouth in hot spurts.

Severusswallowed easily, finding the taste surprisingly enjoyable when he usuallydidn’t. He allowed Harry to pump his pick into his mouth a few more timesbefore he pulled off. Harry looked devastatingly debauched. He must have had atrace of his come on his lip as Harry’s eyes wouldn’t leave the spot, wideningas he panted. Severus made a show to lick his lips before twisting his fingers,still buried inside Harry’s arse, in reminder.

“Yes,”Harry moaned.

“Stillup for it?” Severus asked, voice hoarse.

Insteadof answering, Harry shifted himself to sit on his hips. His hand wrapped aroundSeverus’s prick, and Severus hissed at it, eyes slipping shut. He listed theingredients for wolfsbane in his mind, trying to take his mind off the feelingof Harry’s lovely hand touching his achingly hard prick.

AsHarry lowered himself, Severus mentally prepared for the contact. It barelyhelped restrain his groan as he felt warm wetness hit the sensitive tip of hisprick. He forced himself to breathe steadily as various thoughts, each dirtierthan the last, swirled around his mind. Thoughts like the fact his pre-come wasgoing to mix with the lubricant in Harry’s arse. The lubricant that he put there.The lubricant he put there so he could fuck Harry’s brave, reckless brains out.

“Fuck,”he breathed as his prick entered searing heat. Harry let out a soft, surprisedmoan, and it didn’t help at all with Severus’s quickly building orgasm. “Fuck,”he whispered as Harry kept going, making those same little moans all the waydown, undulating his hips as he got used to it.

“Itfeels so-“

Severuswasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle what came out of Harry’s mouth.

“I feelso fully,” Harry groaned as if hewere the one taking unbelievable, sinfully wicked pleasure.

“Merlin,stop,” Severus begged, throwing all of his self-control at not coming rightthen.

“Wha?”Harry’s blissed out face had a soft frown as he tried to express his confusion.

“If youwant this to last any longer, then you’ll give me a minute,” Severus said,aiming for calm but failing miserably.

Severusmentally recited the ingredients and instructions for all the potions heassigned his first years. He was on the last few instructions of the last onewhen Harry started to move. It was a slow but sure upwards motion, the velvetywet heat of Harry’s arse moving along his prick.

“Potter,”he growled.

“Not mydad,” Harry murmured in response to his first name not being used.

Severus’simpending orgasm, and very nearly his erection itself, vanished instantly atthe thought of James Potter. He made a disgusted sound, and almost shoved Harryoff of him, but Harry must have realized what he’d done as he flung himselfforward and put his forehead to Severus’s.

“No,no, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly,eyes closed and lips moving against Severus’s as he spoke. Severus wasn’t surehow he felt and he still had half a mind to push Harry off him. “Hey, focus onme,” Harry whispered. “Focus on me. Focus on us. Right here. Right now.”Harry’s hands stroked down his sides, and Severus didn’t move, curious to seewhere this would go but ready to bolt all the same. “Focus on my hands on myvoice,” Harry told him. “On my lips brushing against yours.” Harry brushed hislips lightly across his, and Severus felt a little bit of his disgust diminish.“Focus on my hands stroking your chest.” Harry’s hands continued to stroke,gentle and soothing. “Focus on the touch of my skin on yours.” Severusbecame aware of every point they connected. “Focus on the feeling of my thighspressing against your sides.” Severus wanted less and less to flee. “Focus onthe weight of me sitting on top of you.” Severus felt held down and secure.“Focus on the heat surrounding your prick.” Severus couldn’t remember why hewanted to leave. “Focus on the slide of my body as you’re pumped into me.”Harry started to move, slowly and sensually, and Severus focused on the amazingfeeling. “Focus on urges your body is giving you.” Harry whispered. “Focus onthe need to claim my virgin territory.” Severus was panting and it all felt sogood. “Focus on my need for you to take me.” Harry increased his speed. “Focuson my need for you to fuck me hard.” Harry’s voice was shaking. “Focus on myneed for you to make me feel it.”Harry was panting now, slamming himself down, and Severus wasn’t sure when hishands had started to hold Harry’s hips or meet him thrust for thrust. “Focus onmy need for you to make me come all over you as your prick pounds me.” Harrywas moaning between his words, having to pause now as he got lost in the fuck.Severus’s back and neck were arched, his head pushing into the ground as hemoaned loudly. “Focus on my need for you to fill me with your hot release,only-“ Harry whined and panted as if he couldn’t breathe, “Only you.” Harry wassmashing himself down, and Severus wasn’t sure who was moaning louder. “Focuson my need for you, my need for you, my need for, my need for, need for-“ thewhining was desperate and lost and Harry started chanting, “you, you, you, you,only you, only you, only, only, only-“

Harryscreamed Severus’s name as he came.

Heslammed himself down, his body contacting and spasming around Severus’s rock hardprick as he came again for the second time that night. His hot, pearl-whitecome ejaculated out onto Severus’s chest in streaks. He moaned dirtily as hefinished.

Severus’sjaw was locked and his teeth were gritted as he forced himself not to come. He’dnever had to use such determination and will power, but he had to thrust intoHarry. He had to flip them over and drive into the gorgeous wizard who’d justcame brokenly atop him.

“Youfucking tease,” Severus told Harry once the young man seemed able to breathe atleast.

Severusheld Harry securely to him and rolled them over with ease. In his blissfulafterglow, Harry didn’t realize what was happening until he was on his back.Severus pulled Harry’s arse onto his lap as he started to thrust. Harry gaspedat the sensitivity, but Severus could tell he loved it.

“Youwant me to fuck you?” Severus asked through gritted teeth. He held Harry’ships, and ground his prick into Harry’s prostate. Harry yelled. “You want me tomake you feel it?” He relished in the feeling of thrusting into Harry. It wasbeyond words. “You want me to pound you?” His mind was a disgusting mess ofimages that all involved Harry full to the brim with his come. He moaned andfucked into Harry harder. “You want me to come in you? Fill you with my seed?Mark you and ruin you?” Harry was thrashing beneath him, begging and repeatinghis name as if it were a sacred prayer. “Is that what you want, Harry? BecauseI’ll give it to you. I’ll give so much more to you. Everything. Fuck you so hardyou can’t think of anything else for weeks. You fucking gorgeous, irresistible,perfect-“ Severus’s orgasm was so close and he didn’t have the strength ordesire to stave it off anymore. “Fuck!” he yelled, pistoling his hips so fastand hard that Harry shook with the force, reduced to a gurgling, whimpering,frantic mess.  “Going to make you mine,” Severus growled and Harry camefor a third time, spurting the small amount left in his balls all over his ownstomach.

AsHarry’s hole tightened around his prick, Severus thrust in until he was buriedto the hilt, and came harder than he ever had, Harry’s names on his lips. Hecould feel ropes and ropes of come coating Harry’s passage, spraying hisprostate and the perfect walls of tight, soft heat inside his body. He groanedat it, feeling Harry collapse utterly boneless beneath him.

Severuspulled out several seconds later when he thought he could move, and lay downbeside Harry. They were panting, hot, sweaty, and covered in Harry’s come.Severus knew his robe, which they had inadvertently used as a blanket belowthem, would be covered in come as well, especially as his come leaked out ofHarry arse. It was a wonderful thought, how full of him Harry had been and nowwas. How he would be again if either of them could ever recovered enough.

Withoutthinking, Severus pulled Harry closer, moving his body half on top of him. Hecast a few quick nonverbal, wandless spells to clean them up and freshen them abit. The beautiful afterglow was unaffected, as was evident from Harry’s happysigh as he snuggled closer.

Severuswrapped an arm around him, burying his face in Harry’s dark hair. The worldcould fall apart right then and he wouldn’t even move to acknowledge it. This,right as they were, was everything he needed. He wondered if next time they’dbe able to make it to the bed.

“Sev?”Harry asked, finding it hard to respond in his afterglow haze. His voice wassleepy and he didn’t bother to open his eyes or move at all. Severus, feelingmuch the same, hummed back in question. “Is this not a Fuck-N-Run, then?” Harryasked with a tired smile, taking note of Severus’s complete lack of intentionsof letting him go.

“Shutup,” Severus replied affectionately, nuzzling into Harry further as he pulledhim just a little bit closer.

Notes:

Harry’s outfit was inspired by this dashing photo of Daniel Radcliffe.

Harry’s hair is inspired by this sexy picture of Harry as an Auror.

I don’t know why but I put a lot of thought into Harry’s shoes:   Ginny’s shoe looks like this but is in this colour, while Hermione chose this shoe.