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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Sacrilege

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (OTP)

Words: ~4.6 k

Summary: You and Ransom try to make Easter with the Thrombeys more enjoyable.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (lots of unprotected sex, anal play, use of sex toys, allusions to excessive sexual activity, dirty talk, praise kink, very inappropriate doings in a religious environment), sub/dom vibes, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Happy Easter y’all!! Further evidence that if there is a hell, I’m definitely going there. 😉

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dividers by the incredible @firefly-graphics!

You could not stop grinning at how uncomfortable Ransom looked.

He’d been squirming ever since the two of you had walked into his grandfather’s church this morning. Apparently the Thrombeys took their religious holidays very seriously, and even though you’d never set foot in a church in your life, neither of you felt like dealing with the drama of skipping Easter.

That was where the bet came in.

You had started moving into his place a little over a month ago, and he didn’t feel like waiting to spring his family’s occasional religious fervor on you was the best idea.

“So you’re telling me that that entire group of assholes make a show of religious devotion for the big holidays only?” You rolled your eyes as you worked on unpacking your pots and pans, because of course Ransom owned absolutely no cooking instruments.

“Yeah, sorry, I know you hate organized religion.” He frowned as he pulled some tools out of the box of baking supplies. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s a bread lame. That is the WASPiest shit I’ve ever heard of.” You grabbed the lame from him and put it away as you did your best to organize everything so it would’ve easy for you to find later. “I’m assuming if we decided to skip there’d be a shit storm.”

“You would be correct.” He handed you a rolling pin to put away.

“Right. Well, I don’t really feel like dealing with that so I guess I can make an exception.” You grinned at him as you started breaking down the empty box.

“I appreciate that.” He stepped into you once he was finished, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. “Let’s hope you don’t burst into flames or anything.”

“Ha! At least that would make things more interesting.” You giggled as he started rubbing his face over your neck.

“Trust me, it wouldn’t take a lot.” He picked you up and set you on the counter with a happy sigh, slotting himself between your thighs and sucking a bruise against your throat.

“Yeah? Well let’s see if I can think of something to liven things up for you sweetie.” Your hands ran under his shirt to skim over his well muscled back.

“I mean, the fact that you never wear panties will already make things exciting.” His fingers started teasing under the edge of your shorts.

“Oh shit! Oh I’ve got an idea.” You brought your hands back up to slap his chest excitedly. “When does Lent start?”

“Lent?” He pulled back from you as he thought about it, chewing on his lip. “Couple of days. Why?”

“How do you feel about a little bet?” That grin you had on was making him all kinds of nervous.

“I dunno, I do not have the best track record in betting against you.” He winced when he thought about the shit he’d had to endure after the last one, it took his bush forever to grow back. “And centered around Lent? Why do I feel like I know where this is going.”

“Don’t get ahead of me, Hugh.” You wrapped your legs around his hips and drew him closer. “Don’t you want to know the terms?”

“They better be fucking amazing.” He was doing his best to turn his hips away from you because if he let you wrap your hands around his cock he’d do whatever you wanted.

“They’re so fucking good baby.” You smoothed you’re hands over his chest and nuzzled against his throat, beaming when he let out a low growl. “If you can go the whole 40 days of Lent with no sex, no touching yourself, all that shit, I’ll wear that pink vibrator you like to use on me to Easter service, and you can turn it on whenever you want.”

“Oh my god, you really might burst into flames.” He ducked his head to brush his lips against yours with a chuckle.

“And, as an added bonus, I’ll wear a butt plug too.”

“Shit, really? God, you’d look so fucking cute with your ass plugged up.” The thought of making you come without touching you in the middle of communion was doing things to him. “What if you win?”

“If I go the whole 40 days with zero gratification, you get to wear your housewarming present to church.”

“Babe, you got me a present?” Fuck, you loved that stupid earnest grin he was giving you, like a damn puppy.

“Of course I did, baby.” You gripped his chin and tugged his mouth open before smashing your lips to his and stroking his tongue with yours until he was moaning into your mouth. “Now that you’re my housewife I’m gonna spoil the shit out of you.”

“What is it?” He was panting with need, chasing after your lips with a whine as you pulled away and you knew you had him.

“It’s a surprise.” You leaned back on your arm and smirked at him, bringing your hand up to press against his mouth as he still attempted to get at you. “Nu-uh, Hugh. Do you agree to terms?”

The man pouted at you, hating how easy it was for you to manipulate him.

“Fine.” He huffed, grabbing your hips and yanking you forward until you were pressed against the bulge in his sweats. “We’ve got a couple days, and I’m gonna fuck you all over this house until every room smells like sex. Starting with the kitchen.”

“Jesus, you’re the best fucking housewife a girl could ask for.” You teased, ripping his t-shirt over his head as he nipped at the spot where your pulse was thudding under your skin.

“Shut up.” He shoved his hands under your tank top and palmed your breasts, grinning when you arched into him. “Take your fucking shorts off.”

God, as much as you loved domming him, when his voice got all commanding like this you got so damn wet. He stepped back as you ripped your shorts down your legs and wrenched your tank off, tossing them aside. Your mouth was full of saliva while you watched him step out of his sweats, whining when his pretty cock bounced up against his abs.

“Just look at you all spread out and needy for it.” His fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs as he stepped between your legs. “I think I might actually win this one.”

Your snarky retort died when he shoved his cock into you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one quick motion and making you choke. One little test grind of his hips and you almost lost it, your pussy clenching around him as you swallowed a scream.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” He ran his nose along the edge of your cheek while he finally started moving in earnest, his thrusts smooth and long and designed to have you begging him. “I wanna here you use that fucking mouth of yours. There’s no neighbors anywhere nearby, you can scream as loud as you want.”

To emphasize his point, he licked his fingers before shoving his hand between you two to rub your clit, and you let go.

“FUCK!!!” Your orgasm hit you like a bus, your entire body spasming uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Ransom grinned against your neck when he felt your release soak his cock, glancing down and groaning as he watched it flow out of you and pool on the countertop.

You moved your hands up to his head and tugged on his hair until he brought his face back up to yours, your tongues tangling together desperately as Ransom’s hips slapped against your thighs. The lewd sounds coming from between the two of you echoed through the empty house, mirrored by your wanton mewls and whimpers while you took each other apart.

“God, you always feel so damn good.” He purred against your lips, flicking his tongue out to trace the curve of your mouth. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Shit, it’s fucking amazing, baby.” You gazed into his lust blown eyes as you nipped at his lips, your hips rolling to meet each push of his hips. “Love feeling that perfect cock fill my pussy.”

“Fuck, keep going.”

“Yeah? You know just how to use it, Ran, hitting me so fucking deep and stretching me open.” You whined when his tip kissed your cervix, your body arching into him. “Fuck, oh just like that. God, that’s my good boy.”

His choked whimper made you grin. It was easy to forget about his little praise kink until he was twitching inside you while you told him how perfect he was.

“You like that baby?” You brought a hand down to cup his cheek as he nodded, running your thumb slowly over his perfect bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth while he whined. “So fucking good for me. With that perfect, pretty cock that fills me up just right.” Both of your hips were moving wildly now, grinding and gyrating against each other as you felt your ends near. “Wish I could spend all my time wrapped around you.”

You clamped down on him and he let out a low moan around your thumb, his eyes rolling back in his head at the pleasure your filthy words elicited.

“Fuck, choke me.” His voice had lost its commanding edge, all wanton desire now as his eyes met yours again. “Please.”

“How can I say no to such a good baby?” You beamed as you slid the hand that was cupping his jaw down to his throat and squeezed lightly. “You too, honey.”

He kissed you hungrily before sliding his hand up your torso until it was wrapped around your neck, pushing you away from him just a bit so he could get a good look at you coming apart.

The pressure on your jugular and the view of your hand squeezing his throat did it, another tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you shrieked. Your pussy fluttered around him in waves, trying to draw him as deep as possible as you milked his cock.

Ransom groaned when you applied just a little more pressure to his airway, his hips thrusting as far forward as they could before stilling completely. His cock throbbed inside you and you released him, the two of you collapsing back against the counter while his thick spend coated your warm, satiny walls.

It took a few minutes for the two of you to come down, panting against each other’s shoulders until your brains reset.

“Forty days?” He groaned into your neck before starting to untangle himself. “We might die.”

You laughed as you stretched your whole body before hopping off the counter. “Don’t be dramatic Hugh. If you feel like you’re nearing the end, you’re welcome to take care of yourself.” He grunted when you grinned at him, running your fingers through his chest hair lazily at the same time. “But that would mean I win. Now c’mon, don’t you wanna open your present?”

“Yeah.” It was taking all of his self control to not bend you over and fuck you again while he watched you walking away, his cum dribbling down the inside of your leg without you caring at all.

“Hugh!” That snapped him out of it, finally moving to follow you as you walked out of the kitchen.

You giggled when he wrapped himself around your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts softly as the two of you made your way to the bedroom.

“Alright, just gimme a second, Hugh!” He pouted when you shoved him off you, winking at him as you moved to grab his gift from your suitcase.

You motioned for him to sit on the bed and he obliged, beaming at you when you crawled into his lap with a sleek black box in your hands.

“Happy housewarming, baby.” You cooed, handing him the box as you gave him a quick peck.

He popped the lid off the box and started laughing, his mirth filled eyes meeting yours as he pulled the vibrating anal stimulator and cock ring combo out of the package.

“Jesus, you always get the best fucking presents, sweetheart.” He pressed his mouth to yours and hummed his content against your lips.

“I know.” You let him get one more quick peck before shoving him back on the bed and grabbing the toy. “Your turn to scream, Hugh.”

It only took one day to break in the whole house, but the two of you were determined to get as much sex as possible in before your bet started. You spent each second you were awake fucking every single hole you had between the two of you until you were both exhausted, blissed out messes. The number of orgasms the two of you had made you surprised that either of you could walk anymore.

And now it was Lent.

The first week or so was fine, you were both so worn out from your 72 hour fuck-a-thon there was no way either of you were going to start anything. You just walked around the house in a daze, barely acknowledging each other’s presence.

But now it was week 3, and you were both starting to get frustrated.

It had started in the middle of week 2. Ransom had been by himself all day while you were at work and the sound of your car pulling up made him grin like an idiot. The dog was only good for so much company, and he was definitely starting to feel a little needy.

When he met you in the kitchen for his normal greeting, it didn’t take long for him to start growling against your lips and press his cock into your hip. The condescending laugh you’d given him hadn’t helped in the least, and of course you’d spent the rest of the day teasing him mercilessly.

From there the two of you started making it your mission to make the other crack.

It was easier for you, all you really had to do was show up and he’d be ready, but you really wanted to have fun with it.

You started by washing his beemer in your lacrosse uniform, trying hard not to crack up as he watched you from the kitchen. He’d almost dropped his coffee when you’d finished, turning to come inside with your soaking wet polo that made it painfully obvious you weren’t wearing a bra.

Ransom retaliated by putting on one of those too tight t-shirts he knew you loved along with some running shorts and tried his best to give the dog a bath. The bath itself wasn’t successful, Fionn making a run for it before Ransom could even apply the shampoo. But when he walked inside in that little outfit and sopping wet? God, you’d wanted to jump on him so bad.

The two of you were having way too much fun torturing each other, it was like the early days of your relationship again.

You’d put on his favorite lingerie and heels and spend the whole day lounging around the house in suggestive positions, chuckling whenever he’d growl at you and roll his eyes. He’d put on nothing but some dick pants and do his workouts in the living room, grinning when you had to excuse yourself from the room when he started doing push-ups right in front of you. You found an old pair of thigh high leather domme boots and after exfoliating and shaving everywhere you’d waited for Ransom in an absolutely obscene pose while holding a riding crop, unable to stop yourself from cackling when he immediately ran out of the room and slept on the couch. He greeted you when you got home the next day with cookies he’d made from scratch and nothing on but a very tiny apron.

As much fun as you were having, you were starting to get fed up. You had almost snapped at one of the board members at a meeting for your charity over some stupid trivial thing. And Ransom was so fucking horny, he was on the verge of humping the furniture.

You got home from work and immediately went to the bar to pour yourself a drink. This needed to fucking end, you were getting desperate.

It didn’t seem like Ransom was home, but his beemer was out front so you weren’t sure. You walked through the house but didn’t find him anywhere, and the fact that Fionn was missing too made you think they must be on a walk.

Your supposition was proved right when you saw the two of them walking back up the driveway, Fionn prancing happily off leash in circles around Ransom as the man gave him a relaxed smile. Fuck, he was so good with that damn dog it always turned you into a mess.

His grin faded when he walked in and saw you waiting for him, dreading whatever new torture you had thought up. You ignored him and knelt down to give Fionn some love, rubbing his ears and chuckling when he rolled over for you.

“Did your friend take you on a nice walk, buddy?” The idiot’s tongue just lolled out of his mouth as he wriggled around happily. “What a good boy he is.”

Ransom froze. Were you talking to the dog still? The low purr your voice had taken on made him think you weren’t, his cock starting to twitch as he shot you an inquisitive look.

You gave Fionn a couple of pats and he ran off to find a toy, leaving you and Ransom to stare at each other. He actually flinched when you straightened up, and you felt the corners of your lips twitch with a smirk.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” You cooed, stepping towards him and fighting a grin when he backed away. “My sweet boy.”

“Y/N, the fuck are you doing?” The warning he was trying to relay losing its edge when his voice cracked.

“Just telling you what a good boy you are.” His whine made you clench, arousal flooding your panties as you cornered him. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

“You’re cheating.” He hissed when you caged him in with your arms, leaning forward until your chest was less than an inch from his.

“How? I’m not even touching you, Hugh.” You skimmed your nose over his throat and breathed deep, humming as the clean woodsy scent of him filled your lungs. “Fuck, honey, I’m so damn wet just thinking about that pretty cock of yours.”

“Shit.” His mind tricks weren’t working, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on the thought of Walt’s flat pasty ass, the heat radiating off you was overwhelming him.

“Mmm, my perfect man. So fucking pretty when you blush for me.” You closed the space between the two of you and bit your lip when he gasped. “Can you smell how much you turn me on, sweetie? I’m fucking soaked. Don’t you wanna taste?”

Oh, he did, he wanted you to sit on his face until he’d slaked his thirst on your sweet nectar, passing out as you told him how good he was at using his tongue.

“God, you’re like a damn artist with that mouth of yours.” It’s like you were in his head. “And that cock that fits inside me perfectly. Wanna squeeze you while you fuck me until I pass out. You always make me feel so...”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before he smashed his lips to yours, your teeth clashing and tongues tangling as he whimpered into your mouth. He picked you up and threw you onto the couch, ripping his clothes off in a frenzy before pouncing on top of you.

“You fucking bitch.” His hands were all over you, tearing your blouse open and shoving your skirt up around your waist before literally shredding your panties. “I’m gonna make you come so much you’re not gonna be able to walk right for a month.”

The two of you screamed together when he speared into you, not giving you a chance to adjust before he was rutting into you like an animal.

“Oh god, do it Ran. Fucking ruin my pussy with that massive cock. You feel so good inside me. Fucking need your cock.” Your hips were meeting his desperately, pleasure pooling in your core so damn fast you were surprised you hadn’t come already.

“Yeah, that’s cuz this pussy was fucking made for me.” He growled into your neck before nipping at your throat, curling his body around yours as his end drew closer. “Tell me.”

“Shit, I was fucking made for your cock, Ran. No one can fuck me like you.” You sucked on his ear lobe as you wrapped your legs around his hips and locked your ankles together. “You make me come so damn hard. My perfect, sweet boy.”

“Ugh, yes.” Both of you were so fucking close. “I’m yours. Just yours.”

“All mine. Come for me sweetie.”

The two of you screamed together again, your bodies writhing against each other wildly as your orgasms took over. You squirted all over Ransom’s abs when he stilled his hips and ground against your clit, your pussy fluttering around his cock as he throbbed in his release. He buried his face in your neck as he filled you up, holding you close in his arms until the thick cream of your mixed releases started leaking out of you.

You sighed when he sank on top of you, running your fingers through his soft hair lazily as he panted into your hair. He groaned when you gripped his hair and lifted his head to look him in the eyes.

“Such a good boy.” You purred, letting him rest his forehead against your own. “I win, Hugh.”

“You need to stop wiggling, Hugh.” You murmured under your breath, hiding your smirk behind the hymnal as the rest of the congregation sang along. “It’s like you’re asking me to turn the intensity up.”

“Fu... shut up.” All he could focus on was the feel of the toy buzzing against his prostate and around the base of his cock.

He’d been hard ever since the two of you walked into the church, having to stand behind you the whole time you both exchanged greetings with his family. Every time one of those assholes made a passive aggressive comment you turned up the intensity for a good 15 seconds until he was almost there, then wrenching his orgasm away at the last second until he was whining into your hair.

It didn’t help that you looked absolutely sinful. Of course you’d picked something scandalous to wear to a goddamn church service, but he was still surprised at just how much of your tits was on display. And that skirt was so fucking short he was afraid if you moved your legs at all in your seated position you were gonna end up flashing his father, who had disgustingly insisted on sitting next you.

You were having a surprisingly good time for your first time at church, mostly because right now you could ogle the outline of Ransom’s hard cock through those very well tailored pants you’d picked out for him. It was taking a lot of self control for you to not reach out and give it a squeeze, and as much as you would love to see Linda’s reaction to that, this was Harlan’s church, and you wouldn’t do that to him.

The singing finally stopped, and Ransom groaned when you uncrossed and recrossed you’re legs, shooting Richard a scowl when he caught him staring. He just wanted pull you into his lap and let you grind your bare pussy against his bulge while you made him come with that toy.

Neither of you were paying attention to the sermon, scooting even closer together as you started to eye fuck each other. You started grinding into the pew when he leaned close to smell your hair, both of you clenching your hands at your sides to keep from feeling each other up. He had to swallow a moan when you reached into your purse and turned up the vibration on the toy, his hips trying to buck up into nothing.

When you uncrossed your legs to give yourself more room to maneuver he almost lost it. Your chest was heaving with such deep breaths he was worried you were going to pop out of your dress. He had to slap his hand over his mouth when you rested your hand on his thigh, covering the wanton sounds that were coming out of him.

“Ransom, are you ok?” Shit, Linda had figured out something was up, giving her son a concerned glance and putting her hand on his shoulder in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture but that just filled him with panic.

“Yeah, you ok, baby?” He could tell you were fighting the urge to grin as you looked at him, growling when you turned up the vibrations again.

Linda squeezed his shoulder and he almost started crying. You were such a fucking bitch, trying to make him come while his mom was touching him.

“Bathroom.” He mumbled, shooting out of his seat and practically running out of the sanctuary.

“I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t need anything.” You said with a sympathetic look before standing to follow him, cringing as you slid past Richard and felt his eyes rake over you.

You found your boy toy panting against the wall next to the men’s room, doing your best to tamp down your glee as an usher walked past the two of you.

“You’re going to miss communion, Hugh.” The glare he shot you was pure poison, his breath sawing in his chest as he started dragging you towards a supply closet.

He shoved you inside and drew the door closed softly, fighting the urge to slam it to avoid drawing any attention to the two of you.

“You unbelievable cunt.” He hissed, yanking the front of your dress down until your tits popped out and he could bury his face in them.

“My goodness, Hugh. We’re in a church.” You sighed as he mouthed at the slopes of your breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste you while you worked at undoing his belt. “What would your mother say?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He moved his mouth up your chest until he could scrape his teeth along your jaw. “Oh my god.”

You had turned up the vibration again and he was right there, slapping your hands away to wrench his fly open and sheathe himself in your warm cunt.

“I’m gonna fill this pretty little pussy up so much.” He purred in your ear as you whined, gasping when he ground his hips and pressed the vibrating ring against your clit. “Then I’m gonna watch you sit in that pew like a good little girl while you try to keep my cum from making a stain on that pretty dress of yours.”

“Fuck, baby.” You moved your hips against his slowly, biting your lip as you felt pleasure coiling deep in your core. “I think we might have a new fucking kink.”

“Yeah, watching you in your slutty little outfit while that moron drones on about our lord and savior really does it for me.” He groaned when you shoved a hand between the two of you to play with his balls. “Shit, turn it up.”

You nipped at his lips and pressed the button, the two of you groaning together as you tipped over the edge. He smashed his lips to yours and you swallowed each other’s cries, your bodies spasming uncontrollably against each other. Your pussy clenched around him in waves, milking his cock for everything he could give you as he pressed you into the wall of the closet. It felt like it would never stop, the toy buzzing against his prostate prolonging his orgasm until you were overflowing with cum.

“Jesus Christ.” You hummed contentedly against his lips as you turned down the intensity to the lowest setting. “Maybe we should start going to church on the regular.”

“You’re such a damn freak.” He teased, pulling out of you reluctantly and shoving a few errant drops of cum back into you before pulling your skirt back down. “You better keep those thighs squeezed nice and tight, don’t want my cum getting all over the pew and letting everyone know what a little slut you are.”

“Uh, we’re both sluts, Hugh.” You said with a grin, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand up to your lips so you could suck his fingers clean.

“Right. Are you gonna take this thing out or what?” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop, moving his hands down to shove your tits back into your dress.

“Nope. The bet was for you to wear it for the whole service.” The look he gave you made you want to laugh, tucking him back into his pants before you poked your head out the door to make sure the coast was clear. “Let’s go consume the body of Christ and hope we don’t get struck down.”

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another-snape-story · 4 years

Text

Firewhiskey

Chapter XVII

“Alcohol is not a solution,” Snape reminded you as you both entered his office.

“I know,” you sighed, placing a large bottle on his desk. “I’m just so tired, Severus…” You took your regular place in the armchair, where a wool plaid blanket was folded a little sloppily – the way you left it here the last time. So he didn’t even bother putting it away anymore? Although Snape just lit the fireplace and its heat didn’t yet reach you, you felt so warm like never before.

“Yes. You are,” he agreed, focused on uncorking the bottle. “Why would you have firewhiskey in your possession?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled apologetically. “Bought it the day you refused to go to Hogsmeade with us.”

“Is it a vivid example why I should’ve agreed?” he smirked now pouring the spirit into two glasses and you laughed.

There hardly was a place in the whole world which offered you this kind of comfort and consolation, but this cold room with the dark figure of a man smoothly pacing around. Wrapped yourself into the blanket, you relaxed in the softness of the cushions.

“Quidditch Through the Ages,” you leisurely read the title as you noticed the book on a side table. “So now everything comes together!”

“What exactly?” Snape handed you the glass and sat across from you.

“You were to be heard in the Entrance Hall,” you giggled. “Why did you take it from Potter?”

“Well, I wasn’t in a mood,” he said apathetically, wobbling his glass and watching the liquid rotating inside. You couldn’t discern if he was joking or not – it was so likely of him to consider it a fair reason to do so – anyway, his answer amused you, same as his serious look.

“Have you ever been?” you teased, and he answered with a displeased curve of his lips.

“So?” Snape leaned a little forward.

“I’m drinking for you,” you declared, not a trace of your former gaiety remained. “I’m so happy I met you, Severus. You can’t even imagine…”

“Slow down,” he smiled softly. “Too early for confessions.”

“You know I mean it!” you insisted. “I’m telling it before I take the first sip, and I will tell it after taking the last!”

“I know,” his voice so quiet yet so deep. “And you do know I feel the same, don’t you?” The words being extremely alien to Snape’s enclosed character, the words he never dared to say aloud, struggled their way out. He’d prefer to keep them to himself, but he couldn’t leave your sudden ingenuous impulse without an answer.

Your heart skipped a beat each time he acknowledged his reciprocity towards you, although he never said it directly. You nodded, blissful to be ascertained of his fellow feeling again, and reached out for the man.

Mild sonorous clinking broke the silence once your glasses struck against each other.

“How did you get here?” you asked randomly, intending to divert depressive thoughts by some neutral topic, but Snape – unlike what you’ve expected – now looked gloomier than before.

“Dumbledore offered me a job,” he answered with a sigh after emptying his glass.

“Is that what you wanted to be at the age of…”

“Twenty-one,” he finished, filling his glass anew. You tossed yours closer to him to be refreshed with a drink. “All I wanted at the age of twenty-one was being dead.”

“Not much has changed since then, huh?” you smiled sympathetically, and he snickered. Yet again you managed to liven him up.

Another shot followed. Having no crumb in your stomach since lunch, you felt alcohol quickly take over your body, spreading fatigue through your limbs, while your mind still strained to preserve the clarity of thought.

“Did you know each other before?”

“I was studying here. So, apparently, we did.”

“You should’ve really loved it here to return inside the walls of your alma mater?” Recalling your time at school you dreaded the thought of stepping on its threshold ever again.

Snape lowered his head, peering at the brownish fluid in his hand. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah. I’ve guessed there’s a mystery behind all this.” You felt so terribly sorry for him all at once. There clearly was something he couldn’t tell you, but he did his best to be as honest with you as the circumstances allowed, or his obligations, or whatever else it might be. What the hell it might be?! The thing gave him no peace, torturing his heart, it was evident – judging by his rare bitter remarks; and you felt so helpless not knowing how to ease his mental torments. “Don’t worry, mysterious Professor Snape,” you reassured him in barely a whisper. “I won’t ask questions.”

“I wish I could tell you...” he hopelessly shook his head, afraid you might turn away from him sooner or later – no one would tolerate reticence for long.

“We don’t have that much firewhiskey, do we?” you smiled kindly slowly draining your glass.

“You should be prepared better for the next time,” thankful for your patience and understanding, he gave a short, half-suppressed snigger, and you laughed loving the idea.

“Oh, I will! You know me!”

“I don’t even doubt that!”

“Wanna know what I wanted to be after school?” guilt-driven for involuntary making him feel uncomfortable, you changed the subject, hoping to put some spirit into the man, yet your glance gained a spacey glint. “Hats designer!”

“Hats designer?” Snape chuckled, a slight haze enveloping his head.

“Yep. But somehow ended up being a scientist.”

“What a loss for the fashion world,” he said deliberately unimpressed, but a sly narrow of his eyes betrayed he was ribbing you.

“Heey, don’t you dare question my artistic talents!”

“Or what?” he provoked you further.

“Or I’ll tell Minerva you assumed no one would notice if she replaced the hat she usually wears with an old Hagrid’s shoe!”

“You can’t blackmail me with a commonly known fact,” he replied in a bored tone, which made you burst into laughter.

“Aw, Snape, you’re such a bastard!”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” with a smug grin, he raised his glass and polished it off.

Snape rested beside you. All of his troubles seemed to step aside when you came around. He wasn’t expecting any kind of cunning, deceitful tricks from your side and could fully relax in the solace your presence comprised. Alcohol helped him loosen up even more, but he still had things under control. You, on the other hand, let frivolity take the lead.

“I was young and naive,” you tilted your head on the backrest, reflecting on a girl you used to be. “Ah, where are those days?”

“You’re still very young,” Snape smiled softly, admiring your features, which he found so alluringly attractive. But it wasn’t appearance that captivated him – something much deeper than physical perception forcefully drew him to you.

“It’s not the point,” you sighed. “Our bodies are aging, but we never actually grow old.” You gulped the rest of firewhiskey left in your glass and looked closely on its empty bottom. “Somewhere deep inside there sticks a child inside each of us. A child with a flaming hope, still believing all of the most fantastic dreams will jolly well come true... Add me some?” you stretched out your hand to receive a new portion of drink.

Snape unhurriedly provided you with another shot.

“Do you regret becoming what you are?” he let the question slip off his tongue.

“And you?” you gave him a pitiful glance, already knowing what he would say.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“But it’s not too late for changes, is it?” you asked uncertainly, mainly, not to cheer him up – which, nevertheless, was also your intention – but hoping he would agree, so that you too could regain confidence there still was a chance, but Snape silently finished his glass instead.

“The Dark Lord might return any time soon. This is currently my main concern.”

“You’re right. Forgive me, I’m just saying whatever comes to my mind,” you smiled weakly. “My tongue works faster than my brain.” The setting of the room started slowly swaying around, causing a sick feeling in your stomach. You seemed to run out of the last bits of energy – another few minutes, and you’d find yourself balancing on the edge of oblivion.

“Do not apologize,” Snape leaned forward, took the glass out of your hand and put it aside. “What is it you were dreaming of? Will you be willing to tell me?” he asked quietly, his voice so pleasant to your ears.

“I’m dreaming of a small house on the mountain side,” you closed your eyes, “surrounded by a forest…”

“And a lake somewhere nearby,” Snape continued pensively, “its waters clear as crystal…”

“Yes. There will be flowers everywhere…”

“Grown all by yourself?” he smiled, taking in your every breath.

“I have seeds of some rare species,” you agreed serenely.

Each word you said found response in Snape’s heart. For a moment he seemed to be carried away – far from his cruel reality – right in the middle of your little paradise.

“We’ll set off for lengthy strolls along nature paths early in the morning with a basket of sandwiches,” you mumbled sleepily, “to gather herbs and berries…”

“…and return home right before the sun falls…” he whispered, “…tired, but so happy…” Snape’s words faded into silence, as he watched you drift off in a peaceful slumber, leaving him with a feeling of a vague regretful longing.

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