Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2005-07-25 07:56 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2005-07-25 07:56 pm
Fan fic/Het/NC-17
Title: Game, Set, and Match
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theladyfeylene
Pairing: Narcissa/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dubious consent, angry!sex, female dominant
Wordcount: 2,419
Summary: Severus will go to great lengths to glean information for the Order, but he is a man of little patience. HBP SPOILERS!
“You really shouldn’t be here, you know.”
Severus Snape was sitting in a battered green arm-chair, a book open on his lap and candlelight casting long shadows over his face.
“I can come and go as I like.”
Severus had never been fond of haughty tones, even when they belonged to pale and pleasing women. His long fingers flicked over a page in his book, pointedly ignoring his guest. His eyes scanned the words on the page rather than the woman who blocked his light.
“Don’t ignore me.”
“Narcissa, I will ignore you if I choose to. You have invaded my home uninvited and thrust your company where it is not wanted.” Severus was losing his patience. The woman was a nuisance, but a necessary one. Without her, he never would have known Draco was Marked. The Dark Lord was holding far too many cards close to His chest.
“You didn’t send me way last night. Or the night before….”
Because you had information I needed. The opinion was not voiced however. The rustle of fabric and a faint breath of air against Severus’ hands drew his attention.
“Put your robes back on and leave, please.” The request hardly sounded a question but was spoken softly. She was a fine looking woman, but Severus’ tastes rarely ran that way. It helped that she was lithe and lean - small of breast and with little swell to her hips. From behind she could easily pass for a petite boy with long hair.
“No. He has Draco again tonight and I will not spend another moment alone in that manor.”
Severus’ ears perked up. Draco was called to Him again? That much interest from the Dark Lord was never a good thing. The book was place aside, closed and set beside the flickering candle. The wax was already pooling and threatening to drown the sputtering flame. Wormtail was tucked away safely in his bedroom, the despicable man instructed not to come out unless called. Very well, then.
“I suppose I can spare you a bit of time, then.” He could not seem too eager. He let his eyes travel over her pale form, inwardly frowning at the slight swell of her breasts and the soft, smooth mound between her legs. No, not what he sought out to share his bed normally. But she was warm and pliant and gave him what he needed. “Come.”
She moved fluidly to fall into his lap, all smooth skin and cornsilk hair. Tucked against his chest he could barely see her breasts, and her back was a long and inviting line. He allowed his fingers to stroke it, teasing and encouraging.
“He has had Draco brought before Him many nights of late,” Severus said, casually.
“He’s punishing Draco in Lucius’ stead.” The word were biting and bitter. “It isn’t fair.”
“He is rarely fair, Narcissa, He is Our Lord.”
A snort was the only response that garnered. Severus often wondered of Narcissa’s loyalties. He suspected they were to herself and her son, rather than the Dark Lord. Interesting, that. They certainly weren’t to her husband, as the small hand that was slipping itself into Severus’ trousers so clearly illustrated.
“He does not need the blood of my son!”
Severus grit his teeth. Narcissa’s nails were wicked and sharp, and her anger she was hardly careful. Needle sharp points dragged over the delicate skin of his reluctantly growing erection.
“But he desires it,” Severus snapped back, grabbed Narcissa’s wrist. His temper was short and she was walking a thin line as it was. “And have a care with those claws of yours, woman, or you will have no choice but to return home and please yourself!”
A hiss was the only response, and the tightening of slim fingers around his cock. So this was how she wanted to play, was it?
“Remove your hand.”
When she did not comply, Severus squeezed her wrist and yanked, sucking in air as her nails raked his flesh. With a dark look, he pushed her from his lap. As light as she was, she tumbled backwards with a startled noise, landing naked on the bare floor of the small hovel. Her hair had come loose from it’s pins, laying in strands and crushed ringlets over her face. What patience he had for her had run out.
“I will not have myself at the mercy of a foolish woman’s temper,” Severus snapped, pushing himself from the chair. In the light of the fire she looked like a wild thing, eyes blazing from behind her mask of ivory hair.
“Bastard.”
“Indeed.”
If she wished to play rough, Severus could indeed play rough. He nudged her with the toe of his foot, standing over her. She reached out for his trouser leg, nails digging into the faded fabric as she attempted to climb up his leg. The points of her nails pricked at his skin, and he allowed her to pull herself to her knees before moving. With the speed of a striking snake he grabbed at her mass of hair, dragging her up further.
“Let go of me!”
“No.” The word snapped out like a whip, and Severus’ fingers tightened in Narcissa’s hair. He dragged her to the chair, tossing her face down into the sunken seat. “You barge into my home, you demand my attentions, you refuse to honour my request for privacy and you speak against Our Lord! You will take what is coming to you!”
She attempted to turn, but a foot between her shoulder blades pinned her to the chair. Severus’ hand was still wrapped tightly in her hair, pulling it back like a pair of reins. One foot wedged between her thighs, parting them roughly. Her slim legs splayed easily, knees sliding on the bare wood floor. And then proud Narcissa was on her knees, pinned and spread like a common whore.
If only Lucius could see her now. What would he say about his fine wife then?
Severus laughed - a sharp and bitter thing - his attention focused on the woman before him. He didn’t hear the creak of the door on the second floor, the skittering on the stairs, didn’t notice the gleam of silver at the top of the landing. His eyes were fixed with a cruel intensity on the smooth plane of Narcissa’s back, the pale swell of her buttocks, and the slick pink camber of flesh that rested beneath.
“Let’s see you let loose your tongue now,” Severus snarled, tugging at her hair to jerk her head back. The firelight cast sinuous shadows over the arch of her throat, the tip of her aristocratic nose nearly transparent against them. She looked to him a haughty mare, wild and fierce and begging to be broken now that she was bound.
“Get off of me!” Narcissa twisted and writhed, throwing back her shoulders and dislodging the slippered foot holding her down. The shift in weight threw him, knocking him to the floor with his hand tightly gripping Narcissa’s hair. She shrieked as though burnt as she was dragged down with him, kicking out with her bare feet as she fell to the floor.
“You little bitch!” The right side of Severus’ jaw ached from where he had hit it on the floor, and the fine strands of hair wrapped about his fingers were cutting into his skin. She was scrabbling away, but her hair was caught in the heavy silver ring on Severus’ finger, holding her back. He gathered more of her ivory curls into his fist and dragged her back to him, her writhing body sliding easily over the smooth floor. Unpinned, however, her small feet drove into him like small bursts of crucio. He let go of her hair, those strands tangled in his ring snapping as she jerked away.
“You horrid, filthy, disgusting half-breed,” Narcissa hissed, smoothly sitting and swinging one leg over Severus’ smarting waist. One kick had hit him right in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.
“What did you call me?”
Narcissa had him by the wrists now, her legs drawn up so her knees dug into his stomach. She was a small woman, but whip-cord lean and surprisingly strong. She leaned over him, her small upturned breasts tinged pink by the fire’s light.
“You heard me,” she spat. A quick search and she’d pulled his wand from his sleeve, awkwardly binding him with a hasty spell. “You should be lucky I choose you to share my bed. As if any other pureblood witch worth her skin would.”
Bound and bruised, Severus could nothing but snarl and sneer at the woman straddling him. She moved down his body, sleek and fluid as a hairless cat. Small, thin hands ripped open his trousers, followed by the familiar sensation of nail-tips against his cock.
“Let me up!”
“Mmmm. Not so fun when you’re on the other end, is it?” Narcissa moved her hand over his cock, stroking him roughly to bring him to an erection. Her hand having little effect, she lowered her head and ran her tongue along his shaft. Her tangled hair fell forward, covering her face and torso, masking her small breasts from view. In the dim light she was a young boy, small pink tongue rousing Severus’ desire. Under the ministrations of Narcissa’s mouth, the potion master’s cock rose to grudging attention.
In a smooth movement, Narcissa sheathed herself on his cock. She brought her legs forward and her torso up, impaling herself with a practiced ease. Her nails tore at the buttons of his shirt, ripping the material with little care - and the skin beneath it. Severus hissed, the needles of her nails drawing fine white lines over his hollow chest. He thrust upwards with his hips, an attempt to dislodge rather than to pleasure. Narcissa slapped him, the palm of her hand striking his cheek with a resounding crack.
“You will lay still,” she ordered, splaying her hands flat on his chest for balance. “No wonder no woman will have you, you foul vermin.” And Severus could do nothing but lay beneath her, hands and ankles bound to the floor by magical means. How dare she. Her tongue was as sharp as her nails and she had no care to sheath either. His anger swelled even as did her pleasure, his face a mask of rage and revulsion.
Narcissa either did not see or did not care. She moved her hips in that way women did, her abdomen flexing and her small breasts bobbing gently. She was moving fast now, small noises of pleasure joining the crackling of the fire to fill the cluttered room. The moment she released him….
She went stiff for a moment, a high wail splitting Severus’ ears. She dropped over his chest, slick with sweat and breathing heavy. He twisted his hips, taking his chances. She slipped off of him, but her hand grabbed his still-hard cock, threatening to squeeze.
“We’re done when I say so,” Narcissa snapped, twisting her body around to take his erection in her mouth. Her small lips moved over him, sweet and soft. Another move of her body and her swollen sex was dangerous close to his mouth. He closed his eyes, ignoring the musky scent of her arousal and the slick pink of her slit.
“Fair is fair,” Narcissa’s saccharine sweet voice called out, followed by a long lick of his shaft. No. He had never done that, and would not do that. But she left him little choice, lowering her mound to his lips. Stomach churning, Severus’ tongue moved hesitantly over the slippery curve of her folds. He felt her flex and shiver, rubbing her slit over the tip of his tongue. He allowed her to, his jaw aching as she slithered against him. Her sex was sleek and swollen and split like a peach. It was far different than what a man had, plump and juicy. It was not altogether horrible, though he took no joy in it. Narcissa wriggled and squirmed above him, her mouth on his cock jerking and going still as she ground herself against his tongue.
She shuddered again, tensing and twitching and making a noise around his cock. The vibrations around his erection shot through him, his stomach tightening and the familiar sensation of an orgasm building within him. Narcissa’s mouth moved over him in earnest now and his head fell back, the bindings on his wrists and ankles forgotten. She pumped him with her tiny mouth, the tip of his cock tickling against the opening of her throat. Her small fingers slid along his scrotum, rolling the soft sac to bring him to an orgasm.
It hit him hard, Narcissa’s throat working him even as he climaxed. Severus went limp when he’d finished, the shreds of his shirt damp with sweat. Narcissa rolled off of him, hair in knots and a small trickle of white clinging to the corner of her lips.
“Let me go.” There was no anger in his voice now, his orgasm tiring him beyond the point of fury. Narcissa simply laughed, her pink tongue cleaning away any trace of their encounter. She rose on long legs, pulling her robes over her nakedness.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Narcissa went on, running a hand through her hair. “Do not ever man handle me again. Lucius would be all to eager to believe you raped me.”
Severus knew it was true. Lucius would take his dear wife’s word over that of a sycophantic half-breed. Narcissa had him at wand-point and it ate at his insides. He had been bested by a pampered poodle of a woman, effectively raped and ridiculed and there was nothing he could do.
Yet, anyway.
Narcissa retrieved her own wand and canceled the bindings as she stepped out the door. Severus stayed where he was, casting a half-hearted glare at her retreating back. She may have bested him in the short run, but he would have his revenge. When the Dark Lord was bested and the dust was cleared, he would put her in her place. The thought was a sickly pleasant one, and he sneered in the light of the dying fire. The wait would be well worth it.
Until then, he would simply learn to keep his temper. Or channel into something more constructive. Or someone.
Where had Wormtail gotten himself to?
Author:
theladyfeylenePairing: Narcissa/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dubious consent, angry!sex, female dominant
Wordcount: 2,419
Summary: Severus will go to great lengths to glean information for the Order, but he is a man of little patience. HBP SPOILERS!
“You really shouldn’t be here, you know.”
Severus Snape was sitting in a battered green arm-chair, a book open on his lap and candlelight casting long shadows over his face.
“I can come and go as I like.”
Severus had never been fond of haughty tones, even when they belonged to pale and pleasing women. His long fingers flicked over a page in his book, pointedly ignoring his guest. His eyes scanned the words on the page rather than the woman who blocked his light.
“Don’t ignore me.”
“Narcissa, I will ignore you if I choose to. You have invaded my home uninvited and thrust your company where it is not wanted.” Severus was losing his patience. The woman was a nuisance, but a necessary one. Without her, he never would have known Draco was Marked. The Dark Lord was holding far too many cards close to His chest.
“You didn’t send me way last night. Or the night before….”
Because you had information I needed. The opinion was not voiced however. The rustle of fabric and a faint breath of air against Severus’ hands drew his attention.
“Put your robes back on and leave, please.” The request hardly sounded a question but was spoken softly. She was a fine looking woman, but Severus’ tastes rarely ran that way. It helped that she was lithe and lean - small of breast and with little swell to her hips. From behind she could easily pass for a petite boy with long hair.
“No. He has Draco again tonight and I will not spend another moment alone in that manor.”
Severus’ ears perked up. Draco was called to Him again? That much interest from the Dark Lord was never a good thing. The book was place aside, closed and set beside the flickering candle. The wax was already pooling and threatening to drown the sputtering flame. Wormtail was tucked away safely in his bedroom, the despicable man instructed not to come out unless called. Very well, then.
“I suppose I can spare you a bit of time, then.” He could not seem too eager. He let his eyes travel over her pale form, inwardly frowning at the slight swell of her breasts and the soft, smooth mound between her legs. No, not what he sought out to share his bed normally. But she was warm and pliant and gave him what he needed. “Come.”
She moved fluidly to fall into his lap, all smooth skin and cornsilk hair. Tucked against his chest he could barely see her breasts, and her back was a long and inviting line. He allowed his fingers to stroke it, teasing and encouraging.
“He has had Draco brought before Him many nights of late,” Severus said, casually.
“He’s punishing Draco in Lucius’ stead.” The word were biting and bitter. “It isn’t fair.”
“He is rarely fair, Narcissa, He is Our Lord.”
A snort was the only response that garnered. Severus often wondered of Narcissa’s loyalties. He suspected they were to herself and her son, rather than the Dark Lord. Interesting, that. They certainly weren’t to her husband, as the small hand that was slipping itself into Severus’ trousers so clearly illustrated.
“He does not need the blood of my son!”
Severus grit his teeth. Narcissa’s nails were wicked and sharp, and her anger she was hardly careful. Needle sharp points dragged over the delicate skin of his reluctantly growing erection.
“But he desires it,” Severus snapped back, grabbed Narcissa’s wrist. His temper was short and she was walking a thin line as it was. “And have a care with those claws of yours, woman, or you will have no choice but to return home and please yourself!”
A hiss was the only response, and the tightening of slim fingers around his cock. So this was how she wanted to play, was it?
“Remove your hand.”
When she did not comply, Severus squeezed her wrist and yanked, sucking in air as her nails raked his flesh. With a dark look, he pushed her from his lap. As light as she was, she tumbled backwards with a startled noise, landing naked on the bare floor of the small hovel. Her hair had come loose from it’s pins, laying in strands and crushed ringlets over her face. What patience he had for her had run out.
“I will not have myself at the mercy of a foolish woman’s temper,” Severus snapped, pushing himself from the chair. In the light of the fire she looked like a wild thing, eyes blazing from behind her mask of ivory hair.
“Bastard.”
“Indeed.”
If she wished to play rough, Severus could indeed play rough. He nudged her with the toe of his foot, standing over her. She reached out for his trouser leg, nails digging into the faded fabric as she attempted to climb up his leg. The points of her nails pricked at his skin, and he allowed her to pull herself to her knees before moving. With the speed of a striking snake he grabbed at her mass of hair, dragging her up further.
“Let go of me!”
“No.” The word snapped out like a whip, and Severus’ fingers tightened in Narcissa’s hair. He dragged her to the chair, tossing her face down into the sunken seat. “You barge into my home, you demand my attentions, you refuse to honour my request for privacy and you speak against Our Lord! You will take what is coming to you!”
She attempted to turn, but a foot between her shoulder blades pinned her to the chair. Severus’ hand was still wrapped tightly in her hair, pulling it back like a pair of reins. One foot wedged between her thighs, parting them roughly. Her slim legs splayed easily, knees sliding on the bare wood floor. And then proud Narcissa was on her knees, pinned and spread like a common whore.
If only Lucius could see her now. What would he say about his fine wife then?
Severus laughed - a sharp and bitter thing - his attention focused on the woman before him. He didn’t hear the creak of the door on the second floor, the skittering on the stairs, didn’t notice the gleam of silver at the top of the landing. His eyes were fixed with a cruel intensity on the smooth plane of Narcissa’s back, the pale swell of her buttocks, and the slick pink camber of flesh that rested beneath.
“Let’s see you let loose your tongue now,” Severus snarled, tugging at her hair to jerk her head back. The firelight cast sinuous shadows over the arch of her throat, the tip of her aristocratic nose nearly transparent against them. She looked to him a haughty mare, wild and fierce and begging to be broken now that she was bound.
“Get off of me!” Narcissa twisted and writhed, throwing back her shoulders and dislodging the slippered foot holding her down. The shift in weight threw him, knocking him to the floor with his hand tightly gripping Narcissa’s hair. She shrieked as though burnt as she was dragged down with him, kicking out with her bare feet as she fell to the floor.
“You little bitch!” The right side of Severus’ jaw ached from where he had hit it on the floor, and the fine strands of hair wrapped about his fingers were cutting into his skin. She was scrabbling away, but her hair was caught in the heavy silver ring on Severus’ finger, holding her back. He gathered more of her ivory curls into his fist and dragged her back to him, her writhing body sliding easily over the smooth floor. Unpinned, however, her small feet drove into him like small bursts of crucio. He let go of her hair, those strands tangled in his ring snapping as she jerked away.
“You horrid, filthy, disgusting half-breed,” Narcissa hissed, smoothly sitting and swinging one leg over Severus’ smarting waist. One kick had hit him right in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.
“What did you call me?”
Narcissa had him by the wrists now, her legs drawn up so her knees dug into his stomach. She was a small woman, but whip-cord lean and surprisingly strong. She leaned over him, her small upturned breasts tinged pink by the fire’s light.
“You heard me,” she spat. A quick search and she’d pulled his wand from his sleeve, awkwardly binding him with a hasty spell. “You should be lucky I choose you to share my bed. As if any other pureblood witch worth her skin would.”
Bound and bruised, Severus could nothing but snarl and sneer at the woman straddling him. She moved down his body, sleek and fluid as a hairless cat. Small, thin hands ripped open his trousers, followed by the familiar sensation of nail-tips against his cock.
“Let me up!”
“Mmmm. Not so fun when you’re on the other end, is it?” Narcissa moved her hand over his cock, stroking him roughly to bring him to an erection. Her hand having little effect, she lowered her head and ran her tongue along his shaft. Her tangled hair fell forward, covering her face and torso, masking her small breasts from view. In the dim light she was a young boy, small pink tongue rousing Severus’ desire. Under the ministrations of Narcissa’s mouth, the potion master’s cock rose to grudging attention.
In a smooth movement, Narcissa sheathed herself on his cock. She brought her legs forward and her torso up, impaling herself with a practiced ease. Her nails tore at the buttons of his shirt, ripping the material with little care - and the skin beneath it. Severus hissed, the needles of her nails drawing fine white lines over his hollow chest. He thrust upwards with his hips, an attempt to dislodge rather than to pleasure. Narcissa slapped him, the palm of her hand striking his cheek with a resounding crack.
“You will lay still,” she ordered, splaying her hands flat on his chest for balance. “No wonder no woman will have you, you foul vermin.” And Severus could do nothing but lay beneath her, hands and ankles bound to the floor by magical means. How dare she. Her tongue was as sharp as her nails and she had no care to sheath either. His anger swelled even as did her pleasure, his face a mask of rage and revulsion.
Narcissa either did not see or did not care. She moved her hips in that way women did, her abdomen flexing and her small breasts bobbing gently. She was moving fast now, small noises of pleasure joining the crackling of the fire to fill the cluttered room. The moment she released him….
She went stiff for a moment, a high wail splitting Severus’ ears. She dropped over his chest, slick with sweat and breathing heavy. He twisted his hips, taking his chances. She slipped off of him, but her hand grabbed his still-hard cock, threatening to squeeze.
“We’re done when I say so,” Narcissa snapped, twisting her body around to take his erection in her mouth. Her small lips moved over him, sweet and soft. Another move of her body and her swollen sex was dangerous close to his mouth. He closed his eyes, ignoring the musky scent of her arousal and the slick pink of her slit.
“Fair is fair,” Narcissa’s saccharine sweet voice called out, followed by a long lick of his shaft. No. He had never done that, and would not do that. But she left him little choice, lowering her mound to his lips. Stomach churning, Severus’ tongue moved hesitantly over the slippery curve of her folds. He felt her flex and shiver, rubbing her slit over the tip of his tongue. He allowed her to, his jaw aching as she slithered against him. Her sex was sleek and swollen and split like a peach. It was far different than what a man had, plump and juicy. It was not altogether horrible, though he took no joy in it. Narcissa wriggled and squirmed above him, her mouth on his cock jerking and going still as she ground herself against his tongue.
She shuddered again, tensing and twitching and making a noise around his cock. The vibrations around his erection shot through him, his stomach tightening and the familiar sensation of an orgasm building within him. Narcissa’s mouth moved over him in earnest now and his head fell back, the bindings on his wrists and ankles forgotten. She pumped him with her tiny mouth, the tip of his cock tickling against the opening of her throat. Her small fingers slid along his scrotum, rolling the soft sac to bring him to an orgasm.
It hit him hard, Narcissa’s throat working him even as he climaxed. Severus went limp when he’d finished, the shreds of his shirt damp with sweat. Narcissa rolled off of him, hair in knots and a small trickle of white clinging to the corner of her lips.
“Let me go.” There was no anger in his voice now, his orgasm tiring him beyond the point of fury. Narcissa simply laughed, her pink tongue cleaning away any trace of their encounter. She rose on long legs, pulling her robes over her nakedness.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Narcissa went on, running a hand through her hair. “Do not ever man handle me again. Lucius would be all to eager to believe you raped me.”
Severus knew it was true. Lucius would take his dear wife’s word over that of a sycophantic half-breed. Narcissa had him at wand-point and it ate at his insides. He had been bested by a pampered poodle of a woman, effectively raped and ridiculed and there was nothing he could do.
Yet, anyway.
Narcissa retrieved her own wand and canceled the bindings as she stepped out the door. Severus stayed where he was, casting a half-hearted glare at her retreating back. She may have bested him in the short run, but he would have his revenge. When the Dark Lord was bested and the dust was cleared, he would put her in her place. The thought was a sickly pleasant one, and he sneered in the light of the dying fire. The wait would be well worth it.
Until then, he would simply learn to keep his temper. Or channel into something more constructive. Or someone.
Where had Wormtail gotten himself to?