Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
Kinky Kristmas Fic: Touch My Skin to Keep Me Whole (Snape/Moody) 
23rd December 2010 12:00
Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: [info]r_grayjoy
From: [info]leela_cat

Title: Touch My Skin to Keep Me Whole
Characters/Pairings: Snape/Moody
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: First time, touch, mild sensation play, semen kink
Other Warnings/Content: None
Word Count: ~3,000
Summary/Description: Only the first touch is an accident.
Author's Notes: My thanks to E for the beta and the brainstorming and so very much more. To my recipient, I hope these kinks brighten up your holidays.

The title is from the lyrics to 'Mojo Pin', by Jeff Buckley and Gary Lucas (from Jeff Buckley's Grace album).


The first touch is an accident. A brush of my fingers across Snape's bare forearm as I'm taking over babysitting duty from Dawdling Dawlish -- useless piece of Thestral shite that he is.

I walk into the front room of the cottage where they've stashed Snape to find him flipping Dawlish a good pair of fingers and Dawlish about to respond with a wand and his usual lack of humour. A quick twirl of my own wand takes care of that impulse right quick.

Bloody hell, even I know better than to hex a Ministerial witness in front of another Auror no matter how provoking the bastard might be.

Not that I care, but it does no one any good at all to let Dawlish work that one out. So I growl, "Put that wand away. I'll have your guts for garters if Snape can't testify because you put him in Mungo's."

"But he--"

Not having the patience for Dawlish's excuses at the best of times -- the Ministry has to find a better barrel to scrape its recruits out of -- I cut him off and give my wand another twirl for emphasis. "He's a Ministerial witness under our protection. He's also a former--" I spit out the word, wanting to get the taste out of my mouth "--Death Eater and probably knows more hexes, curses, and Dark Magic than you've ever dreamed about. He's wandless, not harmless."

"But--"

"Constant vigilance!" I bark at him.

Both Dawlish and Snape flinch so hard that it takes everything I've got not to laugh at them. Merlin, I love it when they react like that.

Before Dawlish can recover, I nod at Snape. "Come on, then. There's dinner from the chippy down the road in the kitchen, and I'm damned if I'm eating it cold."

Snape gives me a curt nod back and pivots on his heel. I follow him out of the room. Part of my attention is on Dawlish, listening to make sure that he Floos out, but the rest is on Snape.

Snape's stalking down the hall as if he's going to be Kissed, robes flaring out behind him. But all I can see is the way his eyes widened and his skin prickled into goosebumps when I touched him.

All I can feel is the softness of his skin and the way the tips of my fingers still tingle with the residue of Dark magic that runs through him.

.:.


I plan the second touch for the next day. Snape is in the library with a coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He's forgone the robes in favour of black jeans and a loose, untucked black shirt. His hair is long enough to veil his expression when he's got his nose in a book.

I drop into the seat next to him. The couch is small enough that our legs touch.

"Don't do that," he snarls without lifting his head or looking at me.

"What? Sit down?"

His only response is a damned unsatisfactory hum, and then, after a second, he takes a deliberate slurp of his coffee. So I let my hand fall onto my thigh and scrape the nail of my little finger over the seam of his jeans.

His hand twitches, and he spills his coffee over himself, the book, and the couch. He raises his head and aims a furious scowl at me. It's less painful and deadly than his curses, but not by much, and I'm both impressed and turned on by it.

"Bastard," Snape hisses. He stands up and turns to throw his cup and book at me before storming out of the room.

He's aroused, I think, as I watch him leave, from my touch. The idea is so unexpected that he's upstairs and locked in his bedroom before I can come up with a response. I decide to let him be and focus on what to do next, and how to deal with my own unexpected and inconvenient erection.

.:.


Three days later, and I'm not much further ahead. Snape still shivers and prickles into goosebumps when I touch him gently and unobtrusively, but much more than that results in a snarling attack.

Which is why I'm standing here, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering if it's the latest scar that's putting him off. Not that I was ever a good-looking bloke, but... I let the thought trail off as I trace the edges of the dent in my nose. Rosier clipped me a good one before I got him. I should count myself lucky that he didn't take my eye with it, I suppose.

The mirror makes a tutting noise. "Dark magic again?"

"Aye."

"It's not that bad, dearie," the mirror says. "And any young man worth his magic would be proud to be seen with a wizard like you."

My laugh is derisive and aimed at myself, not the mirror. I'm the catch of the season, all right, with my hair going grey and my ever-increasing collection of inerasable scars from fighting Death Eaters and the rest of the hooligans.

"Young men these days." The mirror sighs. "I hardly know what the world's coming to. In my day--"

I walk out before it can get much further and I'm forced to hex it. I'm tired of shopping for mirrors and this one isn't half bad. Jones suggested a Muggle mirror, but what's the fun in having one that doesn't talk back?

.:.


I'm on overnight duty the weekend before the trials start, and the report that's owled to me just before my shift isn't promising. Dawlish and Jones are stationed in the house across the street, and Snape's apparently even jumpier than usual, snapping and sneering at everyone and tossing around barbed insults as if they were Unforgivables. Mothersill, bloody misery that he is, scuttles into the Floo with his tail between his legs as soon as I step out, and he's gone before I can get a single word out.

"Good riddance." Snape crosses his arms over his chest and looks down his nose at me.

There's a challenge in his stance, and I can tell that he's just waiting for me to berate him. So I shrug and offer him the closest thing to a smile I can manage. "I could murder a decent cuppa," I say, walking past him to the door, swinging my arms wide enough to ensure my hand touches his arm. "You up for one?"

Snape mutters something under his breath that's likely an insult, but he follows me anyway, and I count that as a step towards victory.

We're sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, eating chocolate digestives, and not looking at each other, when Snape finally breaks. He slams his mug onto the table so hard I can hear something crack, and says, "Do you mean it?"

I slouch back in my chair and give him a considering look. His lips are pressed together, the corners drawn down in a way that makes his nose seem even more prominent. His left hand is on the table, the muscles and tendons so tense that they're almost vibrating.

The level of want that rises in me takes my breath away and leaves me speechless. He's halfway to the door when I finally gather enough wits to ask, "Do I mean what?"

Snape halts in place. His arms are down at his sides, his hands are clenched into fists, and his back is ramrod straight. "What you're doing to me. Is it an offer or are you just taking the piss?"

There's a world of pain and expectation in his tone; none of it is anything I want to deal with right now. Not when the tension in the room has ratcheted up, and my prick is reminding me of what it wants.

I get up slowly, making as little noise as I can manage, and approach him as carefully as I would a feral Hippogriff. He stiffens even more, as I approach, one misstep by me away from running.

When I'm right behind him, I reach out and run my hands down his arms, from the shoulders to the wrists, stopping at the cuffs, before I reach bare skin. "I don't take the piss over anything that matters." I bite back the word, boy, having seen from his reaction to Dumbledore how much of a mistake that is.

"I'm going to die," he says, as matter-of-fact as if he's talking about the weather. "Caught between all sides like I am."

I circle his wrists with my forefingers and thumbs, marvelling at how slender and strong they are. "Don't give yourself too many airs. There aren't many of us likely to die of old age and boredom, trapped in a bed layered with one too many hospital charms."

A tremor and a hoarse noise escape his rigid control, and his head falls forward. His hair parts messily, exposing the nape of his neck.

Stepping close enough for him to feel me through his backside, I press my lips against the skin above his shirt collar. He tastes of bitter almonds and butterscotch. "I don't do charity or the unwilling. If you want it, say so. Otherwise, I'll back away, and we'll talk about the upcoming elections or some such rot."

"I'm not charity," he spits the last word out in clear disgust. Then he pulls himself free and spins around. "And I'm not unwilling."

His kiss is sloppy and unpractised, with too many teeth and too much tongue, and enough passionate desperation to set my blood on fire. I crowd into him, wrapping my arms around his too-skinny body, and start showing him how it's done.

.:.


We take the stairs one at a time, pausing between each for me to shut down the Floo and set Alert Charms, and for both of us to touch and be touched. By the time we make it into his bedroom, the house is better protected than Azkaban, and he's making short huffing noises and unbuttoning my shirt.

No fumbling for Snape. A virgin he might be, and not so long since a teenager, but he's got more self-possession than many wizards twice and thrice his age.

"You're going to fuck me," Snape says, glaring at me. "And next time I'm going to fuck you."

I don't even try to keep the amusement out of my voice. "Are you now?"

"I am." He nods for emphasis before backing away to take off his clothes and get onto his narrow bed.

He's too skinny and a bit knobbly, but he's also got a sinewy strength and a determination not to hide his faded Dark Mark that sends a jolt right through me. Now that it's uncovered, the Dark magic is rousing something in me that I haven't felt since I fucked Dolohov under the Quidditch stands back in school.

I growl and stalk towards him, shedding clothing until I'm as naked as he is. His eyes widen when he sees me and my scars, and I pause to give him a chance to back out, but he doesn't take it. Instead, he parts his legs just enough to hint at what's waiting for me.

"Be damn sure," I say, watching his prick bounce as I straddle his thighs. "There's no going back after this."

His answer is a surprisingly strong roll of his hips and legs, clearly an attempt to send me sprawling on top of him. I'm not going to settle for quick and dirty, though. Not with him being as responsive as he is. As Dark as he is.

I get to my hands and knees and crouch over him, and I nip and lick at whatever parts of him I can reach: his chest, his shoulders, upper arms, and neck. I sway as I do it, leaving a damp trail of precome over his skin.

"Salazar," he hisses and reaches for me, using his grip on my shoulders and his feet as leverage to lift his hips up and try to rut against me. His Mark is pressing against my bicep, and I can fucking feel myself react to it. To distract myself, I move to a kneeling position, regaining the use of my hands and getting that thing off my skin.

His eyes close, his mouth opens on a moan, and he clutches at the covers as his prick slides into place beneath me. He's undulating. A slow, unlubricated glide against my arse that's too damned close to painful, but he doesn't seem to care. I do, though.

Wanting his attention, I lightly drag my nails over his nipples, the bumps of his prominent ribs, and down his stomach. The skin and muscles ripple and flutter beneath my touch, goosebumps spread outwards, his head goes back, and he comes with a sibilant gasp and a splash of semen against my bollocks.

"Oh," he says when he's done, and he gives me a wicked smirk.

Not good enough, I think. Not if he still has his wits about him.

"I'm going to fuck you now," I growl, and his prick moves under me. I grind down on it, rubbing his come into both of us, and ask, "Lube?"

He grabs an unlabelled jar from his bedside table and tosses it at me. From his self-satisfied expression, I know that this is his. Probably brewed on that contraption he's got set up in the corner.

I shift downwards, settling between his legs, and take a look at what he's got. Nice, full bollocks, a good-sized cock, and a hole that's definitely never been touched. "Pillow."

Ignoring his "Why?" and the way he props himself up on his elbows to watch me, I push a hand under his arse, raise it up, and shove the pillow underneath.

The first touch of my lubed finger to his hole has him dropping back down and spreading his legs wide. He shudders at the second; his prick begins to fill again, and he rotates his hips.

"Hold your legs up and apart," I tell him, and he obeys with more alacrity than I've ever seen from him.

"Don't hurt me," he warns. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and I can sense the curse that's building inside him.

"Then you'll not want fucking." I stop moving my finger, leave it resting against the puckered muscle. "Because it's going to hurt until it's so damn good that you can hardly stand it."

There's a pause, and then he pulls his legs up further, and he exhales shakily. I stroke a hand down his flank, and he mutters, "Fuck me, already."

I take my time preparing him, caressing his skin with my free hand, touching everything I can reach except his prick, and he's writhing on my fingers by the time he's ready. His legs are draped over my thighs, because he's given up trying to hold them apart, and he's reaching for me with hands that flex constantly.

And when I enter him, when I push inside that sticky, slick heat, he cries out. A quiet, wordless syllable that claws its way down my spine and grasps at the base of my prick.

Stopping, gritting my teeth, I wait. Poised on the brink until he digs his heels into my lower back and impales himself on me.

"Fuck me," he commands, and this time, because it suits me, I obey.

Grabbing his legs, I pull them over my shoulders and lean down, nearly bending him in two. His arse opens for me, and I thrust slowly in and out as I kiss him. His movements are awkward, but he wraps his arms around my neck, slides his tongue into my mouth, and bucks his hips up to meet me.

And when my prick finds his prostate, he bites both our tongues. There's blood in our mouths when we end the kiss, but I don't let him change his mind. Instead, I drive inside him, deeper and faster, and I slick his right hand, pull it between us, and wrap it around his cock.

"Do it," I tell him. "Wank yourself."

He huffs, but his hand starts moving. Awkwardly at first, until he's tugging in counterpoint to my thrusts. Soon, too soon, need is driving me into him, sparking upwards and outwards from the base of my spine. Snape's movements become jerky, uncoordinated, and he's tugging on my hair.

Something rises up inside me that I don't ever want to name, and I turn my head and mouth at his Dark Mark. My lips tingle. Snape hisses something incomprehensible, yanks on my hair, and presses his forearm into my face.

Before I can do anything, he's pushing down on my prick, getting as much of it into him as he can manage, clenching around it, and pulsing his release over both of us.

He's got triumph in his eyes when he's done, and I know he's thinking that he's managed two orgasms to my none. As if that's something to be proud of. He pulls his arm away from my mouth and stretches lazily, running a hand over his Mark.

A sense of possessiveness sweeps over me. This boy belongs to me, not to a bleeding Dark twat who got his arse handed to him by a toddler. I pull out of him, ignoring his moan, shrug his legs off, and shift positions. With one hand holding that damned arm in place above his head, I grasp my prick and begin tugging, pulling, twisting. Thrusting into my hand, over and over, faster and faster, until I'm coming with a roar all over his face, hair, and forearm.

When I can think, I look down at him. He's licking my semen off his lips. A tremor goes through me at the sight, and my prick manages one last twitching dribble.

"You're not as good as the one I was saving myself for," he says, a flash of pain and sorrow in his eyes, "but you'll do."

"Aye." Bending down, pinning him in place, I use my tongue to swipe a bit of my come from the tip of his nose. "So will you."
Comments 
23rd December 2010 17:35
OMG, I love this, but I have to run off to work! Argh. I'll be back later to give you a proper comment. I can't wait to read this fic again; all I have time to say now is that it pushes all my buttons, including my 'fabulous prose' button, which just lit up every nerve with delight. The details and arc of this fic are wonderful; my only complaint (not aesthetically, but selfishly) is that it's too short.

*hugs fic rapturously and races out the door*
23rd December 2010 17:40
That's ... that's ... guh.

This was gorgeously written. And HOT. And I NEVER read first person. I'm so glad I stuck with this one. I love possessive!Moody and his Dark magic kink, and also that he was that combination of rough and yet very considerate with the snappish little virgin. The referenced Moody/Dolohov is a very nice touch. I like that you gave the CONSTANT VIGILANCE! just once and his satisfaction with their jump in response. And scrawny boyish inexperienced bitey Snape is darling and I want to tie him up somewhere and pet him.
23rd December 2010 18:13
Of course Moody would get a special thrill from the touch of Dark Magic. :D
23rd December 2010 19:15
A bit of running commentary...

Aaaaaahhh! This fic has been taunting me from my hard drive for days, and it's been so hard not to read it before this. And now that I have read it -- OMG, this is so exactly the fic that I wanted from this prompt!!! ::flaaaaaaiiiiil::

The opening bit! Gah, I loved your Moody right from the start. The coarseness, the wary intelligence, the threatening wand twirl, the "I love it when they react like that" -- bwahahaha! And the first reaction to the initial touch -- yay!

Aaaah, second bit, Moody's planned the next touch to find out what the heck is up with Snape! Of course Moody would investigate! And oh, oh, I love how very prickly Snape is here. He raises his head and aims a furious scowl at me. It's less painful and deadly than his curses, but not by much, and I'm both impressed and turned on by it. -- Abhjkan, YES, that says so much about both of them right there!

Ohhhhhhh, I adore Moody's little moment of insecurity. And Snape's as well! Oh, perfect, perfect, perfect! ::flail::

Holy shit, the TENSION! The teeeeensiiiooooonnnnnn! And OMG, this:

"I don't do charity or the unwilling. If you want it, say so. Otherwise, I'll back away, and we'll talk about the upcoming elections or some such rot."

"I'm not charity," he spits the last word out in clear disgust. Then he pulls himself free and spins around. "And I'm not unwilling."

His kiss is sloppy and unpractised, with too many teeth and too much tongue, and enough passionate desperation to set my blood on fire. I crowd into him, wrapping my arms around his too-skinny body, and start showing him how it's done.


I just... So in character for both of them, and Snape's desperation, and... ::dies::

Oh, gah, I can see hints of teenage Snape peeking though in your adult version here, and when someone can accomplish that... OMG, yes yes yes. Snape's blunt demands and Moody's amusement. ::snicker::

And I should have mentioned it before this point but -- oh, man, I love what you've done here with Moody's attraction to the Dark magic. It says so much about his possible reasons for becoming an Auror and his nature. Holy crap. This is my new personal canon.

Not good enough, I think. Not if he still has his wits about him. -- Moody, I love you!!!

OMG OMG virgin!Snape, and Snapce coming really fast the first time, and Snape being all smirky, and Moody being equally commanding, and the dynamic between two powerful men, and Moody's "and this time, because it suits me, I obey," and it's all so sloppy and desperate and perfect, and Moody's possessiveness, and the claiming, and OMG THE SEX IS SO FUCKING HOT LIKE BURNING I CAN'T STAND IT!!!! Guuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

A sense of possessiveness sweeps over me. This boy belongs to me, not to a bleeding Dark twat who got his arse handed to him by a toddler. -- Best. Line. Ever.

Ohhhhh, the sentiment and what Snape saying/not saying with his last line... !

OMG OMG OMG ::flaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiil:: THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
23rd December 2010 20:46
Whew, that's hot.
24th December 2010 02:22
It's not a pairing I often think of or read, but wow, the reactions they had to one another and to dark magic, really a fascinating and hot combination!
24th December 2010 07:19
Whew, home from work and I flew to this fic.

First, I love Moody's brusque, slightly vernacular voice. He's concise and colorful and has a nicely cynical way of cutting everything down to size.

"He's wandless, not harmless." A perfect nutshell summary of Snape's ambiguous position and reputation here.

All I can feel is the softness of his skin and the way the tips of my fingers still tingle with the residue of Dark magic that runs through him. What a sensuous and disconcerting line after all Moody's macho competence, with the intriguing revelation that he finds Dark magic irresistibly seductive. How damning and delirious that he actually feels the darkness running through Snape, like a contact high from the drug in someone else's body.

Snape still shivers and prickles into goosebumps when I touch him gently and unobtrusively You do a lovely job of blending vulnerability and implicit violence in your version of Snape, scattering subtle signs of his youth and his precarious, edge-of-losing-it control. The idea of a witness protection program and the nerve-shredding waiting that goes along with it, as well as the predictable distrust between witness and guards, are brilliantly handled. I've never thought about it before, but of course Snape's willingness to turn state's evidence would have been fraught with a dozen different kinds of potential disaster.

"Is it an offer or are you just taking the piss?" / There's a world of pain and expectation in his tone Your Snape is outrageously sympathetic. Yes, he's an arsehole, yes, he exploits his intelligence and his sharp tongue to provoke others, but behind the power he has to make Aurors cringe and/or froth at the mouth is a hint of someone young and hopeless; not exactly resigned, but not having much to lose (except his virginity).

I bite back the word, boy, having seen from his reaction to Dumbledore how much of a mistake that is. Again with the shrewd insight. This hits the nail for me, too, where Dumbledore's attitude toward Snape is concerned.

"I'm going to die," he says, as matter-of-fact as if he's talking about the weather. "Caught between all sides like I am." For me this is one of three moments on which the fic pivots. Because I believe Snape believes it; he's sure his life will be short and brutal, he's holding himself together with sneers and bodyguard-baiting, and he probably wouldn't succumb to Moody's sexual teasing if he expected to live. His desperation is both sexual and mortal; he risks humiliating himself because he doesn't want to have missed out on this before he dies, and because he needs something, anything, beyond the long, horrible hours of waiting to tell the truth and possibly getting himself killed in the process. It's a line that cracks open that nutshell you started with.

He tastes of bitter almonds and butterscotch. Mmm, what a marvelous description of Snape's flavor, so young and bitter/smooth. The rhythm and alliteration add an extra dash of pleasure.

I'm not going to settle for quick and dirty, though. Not with him being as responsive as he is. As Dark as he is. Moody's opulent, erotic reaction to Dark magic is one of the delightful mysteries of this fic.

"Don't hurt me," he warns. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and I can sense the curse that's building inside him. This is so Snape. Wanting something so much, expecting the worst and prematurely ready to lash out.

he's reaching for me with hands that flex constantly I don't know why, but I love the detail about his hands, the way they convey his grasping, uncontrollable craving.

And when my prick finds his prostate, he bites both our tongues. There's blood in our mouths when we end the kiss Argh, yes, this would hurt like hell, but it's insanely hot and spectacularly in character.
24th December 2010 11:10
*whew!* That was smoking. I love the little touches of canon sprinkled throughout, Moody's crustiness and Snape's bluster and both of their need. Hotcha! Very nicely done!
24th December 2010 21:29
I love your Moody! He is just perfect! Great job!
24th December 2010 21:38
I am so bowled-over by your Moody, I can't tell you. But I'm going to give it a try /g/. Every word he utters, every thought he has is just perfect. I can smell this Moody, truly; he's so real. From the moment I read useless piece of Thestral shite that he is, I knew this story was going straight to the Favorites List. And Snape is exactly right, too. And hot? You kidding? Wow. The idea that darkness arouses Moody -- inspired, and so believable.

I adore Snape/Moody, and this story shows exactly why.

Some of my favorite lines:

Both Dawlish and Snape flinch so hard that it takes everything I've got not to laugh at them. Merlin, I love it when they react like that.
Lines like this are among the many reasons I love your Moody. And here's another one: I walk out before it can get much further and I'm forced to hex it. I'm tired of shopping for mirrors and this one isn't half bad. Jones suggested a Muggle mirror, but what's the fun in having one that doesn't talk back? These sorts of details add such complexity to his character.

I love the way they set up and deflate each other: "Don't give yourself too many airs," for example. In fact, that whole section, from "Do you mean it?" to "showing him how it's done" is just a piece of genius. I started to copy of couple of the lines and then realized I'd have to copy the entire several-hundred words. The "feral hippogriff" line, though -- I have to quote that. Such a perfect picture of what Snape is like and such a revelation of Moody's perceptiveness.

And those last two lines are so damned effective.

I used to enjoy writing Moody, but I'm going to give it up now. There's no point, now that he's been done to perfection like this. /g/

I'll be reccing this.
24th December 2010 22:56
Awesome Moody voice and awesome fic. Both characterisations were great! And though Snape/Moody isn't a pairing I find hot, I did find the sex very hot here. Fantastic job, mystery author. :)
26th December 2010 15:22
i loved moody's voice. in a way snape/moody is a very good pairing that fits right in between remus/snape and sirius/snape. moody is affectionate and possessive in his way, and the end shows that he somehow understands snape's pain and accepts it.
26th December 2010 16:31
This is fantastic! You nailed both of them!
27th December 2010 11:51
There are times when I get so damned angry that I am on the verge of throwing my laptop on the floor and trash it, never to pick it up again. Like now. Because I can't write like this.

Perfect fic, perfect characterisation. Perfect, strong, vulnerable Snape. Bloody brilliant.
27th December 2010 12:38
Absolutely hot! Thank you.
27th December 2010 22:10
Wow. That was wonderful. Just love both of them here. So hot and so complex. Love that. Great job.
28th December 2010 05:11
Hmm...

I have been trying to puzzle out who may have written this for the last fifteen minutes. I can wager a few guesses, but I guess until reveals, I'll have to be satisfied with the delicious mystery of this.

I've cooled on Snape fic, but I was very curious after spying Torino's rec, so here I am with bells on. Scorching hot sex and a Moody voice so fabulous I can barely form coherency. My only complaint is that I wished this were longer. I'm greedy and want more of this adversariel tension you've strung like an archer's bow.

Great job <3 <3 <3
30th December 2010 04:02
awesome. riveting.amazing characterization. love the premise and Moody's Dark Magic kink is perfect. I only wish there was more!
3rd January 2011 17:17
Whoa.... First person Moody. Beautifully done - it feels really true to character. And Snape is absolutely perfect. The passion and tension, the wanting and vulnerability, the self-possession... OMG.

He's wandless, not harmless.

Perfect.

The awesome sex is almost a sideline, there is so much here. Moody's response to the Dark Magic seems just right for what we know of his character.

"I don't take the piss over anything that matters."

Oh, yes. I think Moody really does understand - and values - our Snape.

Fantastic fic!
3rd January 2011 20:02
This is BEYOND fantastic! Your Moody -- his voice, his roughness, the thrill he gets out of Dark Magic that is so plausible. I just ... wow. And Snape, young, vulnerable, aggressive, all at once. The recurring use of the Dark Mark, the keeping score, the marking ...

Amazing.
3rd January 2011 20:55
Here via [info]islandsmoke's rec. I'd seen this posted but the pairing kinda make me run past with my hands over my eyes yelling 'LALALALALALALAAAAAAAAAAAAAA do not wannnnt'.
Boy was I wrong.

Ho - Leeeeeeeee hawtness! Holy fabulous writing. Holy first person unfff.
Wow.

Little things you did... like Moody not using the word 'boy' with Severus because of his reaction to Dumbledore..... and omg Moody's reaction to the Dark Mark and to Darkness in general. That's... just... woah.
4th January 2011 03:50
Oh, NICE ONE. Woooooo! Awesome Moody voice, seriously. Every bit of dialogue wins at life. And young!Snape, a;lksjdf, great setting for all of this. And Auror + Dark Mark, unf, yes please. Did I mention every single thing Moody says is gold? Wow. Awesome. I had three guesses for who you are, but one has already commented here, and I one sent me over here, so I'll stick with the third and see how I do come reveals. :D
4th January 2011 07:29
Oh, oh, Moody was perfect!! I loved his voice. Snape was wonderful as well. The slow build is hot as hell and then the sex is such a beautiful mixture of tender and forceful. Fabulous.
12th February 2011 14:37
I'm not a big hp fic reader, but I got here via a rec on crackvan, and I have to say that you took what struck me as an unlikely pairing to say the least and used it to spin pure gold. Wonderfully IC.
12th February 2011 20:44
Wow - absolutely lovely. Dark and complex, just as it would be between the two of them. Brilliant. Thanks for sharing!
This page was loaded 19th August 2018, 01:52 GMT.