First three drabbles in celebration of 150
For cave_canem, scribbulus_ink and nattish.
Marks: do NOT say I didn't warn you about the Woobies one.
Cave_canem asked for Werewolf!Harry/Remus, first full moon.
(Okay, so it isn’t dark, but it’s not real peppy, either.)
They’d got distracted and failed to attend to the timing, and then he’d felt himself start to go and they’d scrambled and he couldn’t hold it and they weren’t sure. He might have pulled away in time. Maybe.
They had to wait an entire sodding month to be sure.
The test, as it were, was positive.
Fuck.
“Well. I guess we’ll always have someone to love, then.”
“Harry! How can you say that? I…”
“Oh, shut it. We’re both grown. We both are familiar with both clock and calendar. It was careless of both of us, and now there it is.” He looked at the long scratches down the back of his own door. “Our favorite apothecary will just love this.”
“He’ll laugh his bony arse off.”
“See? Something good will come of it. How often do we get to see Snape smile?”
“Harry. It’s permanent. It’s horrible. It’s…”
“…part of you. Of us. We should probably tell him quickly so he’ll have time to brew for both of us, for next month. I don’t fancy another night like last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Scribbulus_ink asked for parselmouth!Harry/Neville.
(er, okay, so this one did go dark...)
Harry checked the curtains surrounding Neville’s bed. All closed, and he could feel the muffling charm solidly in place. It was, he thought, just as well he couldn’t hear the effect of Parselmouth, because there would likely be actual combustion in here if he could, if Neville were any example. He closed his eyes and called up the image of the snake and started talking, telling Neville in a hiss and a whisper how much his hard cock excited him. He talked, as Neville moved over him, about the feel of it inside him, sliding in firmly as calloused fingers gripped his hips and forced him still, how that made him want, want, but now and always the hands held firm as the cock fucked him hard, and even when he tore, even when he bled, Neville held him still and stared wide-eyed at his hissing tongue, and spilled into him, hot and deep and wet, and he knew, knew, Neville loved him. The even-handed distribution of this partnership, Harry’s tongue for Neville’s rough cock, was perfect, and he ignored the pain in his forehead and stared back into dilated eyes and kept talking, whispering, as he came.
Nattish asked for underage consensual Harry/Vernon
(Which coincidentally makes this also work for the_pimp_cane’s Dursley week. Hee.)
When Harry came home after the events in the Department of Mysteries, he had a single lovely week of peace before his uncle, in a drink-fueled rage, crashed through the door into his new room one evening, and told him in no uncertain terms that he’d learned the sodding mass-murdering godfather was dead, and that Harry owed the Dursleys for their kindness.
Harry wasn’t quite sure what to do with that for one long moment, but he thought on the whole it was best to stay even with these particular people, to neither a borrower nor a lender be and all that. So he stood, all bravado and nerves, and said he’d just as soon start paying up now, if that were all right with Vernon.
It was. The older man stood, stock-still, whilst Harry unzipped his own trousers and teased himself hard; whilst he stroked come to his tip, dripping; whilst his eyes dilated, fixed on his sweaty uncle’s face, until Vernon found his hands on his own throbbing cock in response, stroking and squeezing as he stared at the frightening boy with the immense and inexplicable power. Harry turned around, then, dropped his trousers to the floor, and pulled a tube of gel from under his pillow. His preparation of himself was fast and brutal, and sent Vernon right to the edge. He reached for the boy’s perfect naked arse, unable to stop, and thrust his willful prick into Harry’s waiting hole.
It had been fast, painful, and worth it. Harry thought it was the most like Hogwarts Privet Drive had ever been. As he drifted off to sleep, he blessed his Potions Master for extracurricular lessoning, and wondered what he might do with his newfound control over his uncle.
Marks: do NOT say I didn't warn you about the Woobies one.
Cave_canem asked for Werewolf!Harry/Remus, first full moon.
(Okay, so it isn’t dark, but it’s not real peppy, either.)
They’d got distracted and failed to attend to the timing, and then he’d felt himself start to go and they’d scrambled and he couldn’t hold it and they weren’t sure. He might have pulled away in time. Maybe.
They had to wait an entire sodding month to be sure.
The test, as it were, was positive.
Fuck.
“Well. I guess we’ll always have someone to love, then.”
“Harry! How can you say that? I…”
“Oh, shut it. We’re both grown. We both are familiar with both clock and calendar. It was careless of both of us, and now there it is.” He looked at the long scratches down the back of his own door. “Our favorite apothecary will just love this.”
“He’ll laugh his bony arse off.”
“See? Something good will come of it. How often do we get to see Snape smile?”
“Harry. It’s permanent. It’s horrible. It’s…”
“…part of you. Of us. We should probably tell him quickly so he’ll have time to brew for both of us, for next month. I don’t fancy another night like last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Scribbulus_ink asked for parselmouth!Harry/Neville.
(er, okay, so this one did go dark...)
Harry checked the curtains surrounding Neville’s bed. All closed, and he could feel the muffling charm solidly in place. It was, he thought, just as well he couldn’t hear the effect of Parselmouth, because there would likely be actual combustion in here if he could, if Neville were any example. He closed his eyes and called up the image of the snake and started talking, telling Neville in a hiss and a whisper how much his hard cock excited him. He talked, as Neville moved over him, about the feel of it inside him, sliding in firmly as calloused fingers gripped his hips and forced him still, how that made him want, want, but now and always the hands held firm as the cock fucked him hard, and even when he tore, even when he bled, Neville held him still and stared wide-eyed at his hissing tongue, and spilled into him, hot and deep and wet, and he knew, knew, Neville loved him. The even-handed distribution of this partnership, Harry’s tongue for Neville’s rough cock, was perfect, and he ignored the pain in his forehead and stared back into dilated eyes and kept talking, whispering, as he came.
Nattish asked for underage consensual Harry/Vernon
(Which coincidentally makes this also work for the_pimp_cane’s Dursley week. Hee.)
When Harry came home after the events in the Department of Mysteries, he had a single lovely week of peace before his uncle, in a drink-fueled rage, crashed through the door into his new room one evening, and told him in no uncertain terms that he’d learned the sodding mass-murdering godfather was dead, and that Harry owed the Dursleys for their kindness.
Harry wasn’t quite sure what to do with that for one long moment, but he thought on the whole it was best to stay even with these particular people, to neither a borrower nor a lender be and all that. So he stood, all bravado and nerves, and said he’d just as soon start paying up now, if that were all right with Vernon.
It was. The older man stood, stock-still, whilst Harry unzipped his own trousers and teased himself hard; whilst he stroked come to his tip, dripping; whilst his eyes dilated, fixed on his sweaty uncle’s face, until Vernon found his hands on his own throbbing cock in response, stroking and squeezing as he stared at the frightening boy with the immense and inexplicable power. Harry turned around, then, dropped his trousers to the floor, and pulled a tube of gel from under his pillow. His preparation of himself was fast and brutal, and sent Vernon right to the edge. He reached for the boy’s perfect naked arse, unable to stop, and thrust his willful prick into Harry’s waiting hole.
It had been fast, painful, and worth it. Harry thought it was the most like Hogwarts Privet Drive had ever been. As he drifted off to sleep, he blessed his Potions Master for extracurricular lessoning, and wondered what he might do with his newfound control over his uncle.