Fic: Trust
Sep. 22nd, 2007 12:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Trust
Author:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Summary: Severus decides to thoroughly answer some impertinent questions.
Word Count: ~2200
Warnings: Rimming, Xdressing, graphic sex, almost-fisting, bottom!Snape.
A/N: This fic is a bit different for me. I wanted to explore some unusual elements in my writing, and I hope it worked. Thanks tocelandineb, viverras, iamisaac and r_grayjoy for their help with this. Thanks also to mayflo and nishizono, whose work provided inspiration for this piece. :)
Beta:sevfan
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Trust
~
Very well, I shall answer your impertinent questions in the hope that you shall henceforth leave us alone. Understood?
First, I’m sure you have come to realize that I am not by nature a trusting man. Circumstances beyond my control have made that the case. Yes, I can hear you laughing as I say this. This is no surprise, you’re undoubtedly thinking, but it needs to be stated so that you understand the reason that telling anyone our story is so difficult.
This is a story about trust. And no, it’s not about how I got Potter to trust me that first time. As rocky as the start of our relationship was, Potter was still essentially an open, trusting soul when we became lovers. That possibly explains why it took him years to extricate himself from his former relationship. But I digress.
This is about me and my needs.
It took years for me to relax enough to admit that I want the sorts of things that I’m about to tell you about. In my younger years I would never have allowed myself to be this vulnerable, but now that I’m older I am less concerned about appearances and more with satisfaction. I have come close to dying so many times that I’ve vowed to take all I can from life, especially life with Potter.
As with all relationships, it took time for the two of us to know what thrilled the other. Our sex life has always been exciting, our first coupling quite volatile in fact, but nonetheless, the sex has generally been of the ‘normal’ type. Well, as normal as sex between two former enemies could be. What I was about to add, however, was a new dimension.
Everyone has fantasies and desires, and I am no exception, despite my reputation. I have many times told Potter of my ‘kinks’, things that would be considered perversions by the conservative wizarding society at large, and he has done his best to fulfil them. Most of the time he enjoys himself, too. I like to think that this was one of those times.
I picked the end of what had been a difficult week for both of us. My potions experiments had been set back by the delivery of substandard ingredients from my suppliers, and Potter had finally tracked down a rogue Death Eater cell and brought them in.
The weeks he arrests Death Eaters are always difficult for us. I knew many of these people, and while some were evil and depraved, most were simply misguided and young, as I had been when I became one. I generally say nothing, but the strain is often felt in our interactions. It was in that setting that I decided to indulge in one of my fantasies. One we hadn’t discussed.
It is not easy to lace up one’s own corset. It can be done, of course, but it never seems to be tight enough, and house-elves, while useful for some things, dislike doing anything to their masters that they perceive as being harmful. Apparently, corsets fall into this category.
And so, I dismissed Kreacher and waited in our bedroom for Potter to return home, the lace of the corset almost unbearably scratchy. I’m not sure how women stand it. But that discomfort is offset by the tightness, the control, the... breathlessness it provides, which is what I need.
What? Surprised? I cannot imagine why. It has long been recognized that wizarding robes provide superb coverage. I’m sure you’ve heard the speculation about what Hogwarts professors wear beneath their robes. I could have been wearing frilly knickers and high heels as I taught my lessons and no one would have known.
And before you ask, whether I did that or not is neither here nor there. I know for a fact that students have been wondering what lies underneath my many buttons for years. No one looked beyond my greasy hair, enormous nose and disagreeable attitude, however. No one but Potter.
He saw me, warts and all, and he approached me, wanted me, and made me realize that I wanted him. This is why I chose to do this. To show him what I need.
After making preparations, I positioned myself so as to be clearly visible from the door as I waited. I wanted him to know what was happening, to have a moment to decide on a response. It was unusually reasonable of me, I know, but I thought he deserved that much.
I was as hard as I had ever been as I waited. The anticipation, the risk of exposure was delicious, adding to my arousal. Every creak of the floor made need throb through my very bones until I was almost trembling with it.
His hours are often unpredictable, so I knew I might have a long wait, yet that was a part of it as well. If this worked as I thought it would, the result would yield pleasure beyond anything we had done before.
I heard the door open, and I took a deep breath; it would be my last for a while. I stood, leaning over our bed, bare legs spread, arms grasping the posts of the footboard as I waited for him to find me. Had I not mentioned that I was naked save for the corset? No? Well I was. Do pay attention.
“Severus?” he called.
“In here,” I managed, and I even sounded normal. At least I hoped I did.
“It’s been a hard day! We tracked down... Severus?”
I almost smiled at the note that entered his voice when he spotted me. Shock, wonder and no small amount of arousal, and I twisted my head, looking over my shoulder as much as I was able. “Good, you’re finally here,” I said, shifting my hips. “I require assistance.”
This was when he could have dashed my hopes. He could have said no and turned and walked away, but he is a Gryffindor, and he has yet to run from any challenge. I’ve never told him how I count on that trait, and never more than at that moment.
He walked closer, and upon reaching me, I could feel the heat of his body, even through his robes.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He touched me then, his hands hesitant as they brushed down my bare shoulders and down my upper back to where the corset started.
“I require your assistance,” I repeated, holding my breath with an emotion others might have called hope. “Will you...?”
“Yes,” he whispered, somehow knowing what I was asking for. My relief at that moment was almost dizzying.
“What should I do?”
“Pull it tighter,” I replied around the lump in my throat. “Make me feel it.”
He gathered the laces and pulled half-heartedly. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly.
“Oh no,” I replied. “It contains me, keeps me from...” I paused, not sure if he was ready to hear all that I had to say about this. “It feels good,” I finally said. “Tighter. Do it tighter.”
He did. Somehow he pulled it until I had to pant for breath, and when he secured it, I smiled.
“You look...” I heard him swallow audibly, and my head dropped, exposing my neck. I wondered if I would have to tell him what to do next, but no, his instincts were speaking clearly to him, and spreading his hand, he laid it flat against my abdomen and pressed his fully clothed body against my back.
“Tell me,” I gasped. “How do I look?”
“Amazing,” he whispered, his hot breath stirring the hair on my neck. “Just fabulous. I want to...”
Anything. “Yes, what do you want to do?”
His hand slid across the lace and on down until his fingers were tangled in my pubic hair and nudging my erect cock. “I want to do everything,” he whispered, and the longing in his voice made me shudder.
“Yes,” I said, and quick as a Snitch he had me pressed face down on the bed, my legs still spread. The corset was still constraining me beautifully, making my breathing short and my head light.
His hands were kneading my arse, his fingers pressing deep as if trying to leave their indelible mark.
“No matter what I want to do you won’t stop me, will you?” he asked.
I closed my eyes. Finally, he understood.
My arse was parted and I blinked. Surely he wouldn’t just do it dry... He didn’t. He did something we had never done before, something I never imagined he would even consider. He stuck his face in my arse and licked my hole.
If the corset hadn’t already taken most of my breath then that would have. I believe I screamed, but the memory of what I did in that moment is vague. Yes, I could take it out look at it in the Pensieve, but you can’t, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
Let us presume that I screamed. I don’t see why that would be so hard to understand. If you were ever lucky enough to have Harry lick your arsehole open then I guarantee you would scream, too.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. There I was, exactly where I wanted to be, spread open for Harry, breath short and beautifully controlled by the corset he had laced up so very perfectly, his tongue inside me, and when his finger crept in alongside it was like nothing I had ever felt before.
A second finger joined the first, and I imagine it was probably too difficult for him to continue licking as he finger-fucked me, so he leaned over, fingers deep inside, searching.
“More,” I said, every breath a struggle, and when he found my prostate I think I almost blacked out for a moment, the pleasure was that intense. To my shame, I screamed again, imploring him for more with little gasping sounds. It’s a good thing he knows me so well.
“You’re incredible,” he panted as he pushed a fourth finger in. “How many can you take, I wonder?”
A stab of arousal so all-encompassing as to be blinding shook me at his words. We had talked about fisting before, but had never done anything about it. Would he...?
“It will have to be... later, though, Severus,” he continued, leaning forward, his voice low and shaking. “I have to fuck you now.”
That will do, I thought, my arse muscles fluttering around his fingers as I imagined what having his entire hand inside me would feel like.
He was muttering beneath his breath, fingers moving frantically even as I could hear the wet sounds of him preparing himself.
When he pulled those fingers out, I closed my eyes, readying myself for that first delicious burning push.
He slid in, my earlier preparations, the rimming and the prolonged finger play, making it an easy entrance, and as he tunnelled deep, I felt the brush of his robes. He was still clothed and that was the last straw.
The realization that the sight of me in a corset waiting for him had made him so eager to fuck me that he couldn’t even undress before doing it made me convulse, my orgasm barrelling over me before I could stop it, and he rode me through it, thrusting wildly as I gasped for breath and shuddered.
He was still moving when I stopped coming, and that was when it registered that he had been sucking kisses into my neck as he’d been fucking me. And in that moment, listening to his breathless pants and half-finished words of endearment, it hit me: he would do anything for me, even if it was something he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
What little breath there was in my body left with a rush after that, and as he came, groaning against me, I surrendered to the blissful darkness, knowing I could trust him to do whatever was needed.
When I awoke, I was lying in his arms; we were both naked, and the room was lit with candles. I could breathe again and it felt good.
“Are you okay? he asked.
I nodded. This was when I assumed he would want to talk about things, and could feel myself tensing up, but he surprised me again.
“You know,” he whispered. “I will always give you what you need. All you have to do is... let me know somehow.”
I nodded again.
“And I’ll let you know what I need,” he continued.
I smiled. I knew what he needed, and fortunately, it was what I needed, too. “Next week will be your turn,” I murmured before falling asleep.
And so that is how I ended up here in Diagon Alley, purchasing a skirt for Harry to use in one of his fantasies. He does have such wonderful legs, after all.
You look surprised that I shared this with you in such detail. Indeed, I imagined my answer would shock you, Miss Skeeter, but you see, you shan’t be saying anything about it as you shall forget this conversation very soon, I promise you. Obliviate!
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Summary: Severus decides to thoroughly answer some impertinent questions.
Word Count: ~2200
Warnings: Rimming, Xdressing, graphic sex, almost-fisting, bottom!Snape.
A/N: This fic is a bit different for me. I wanted to explore some unusual elements in my writing, and I hope it worked. Thanks to
celandineb, viverras, iamisaac and r_grayjoy for their help with this. Thanks also to mayflo and nishizono, whose work provided inspiration for this piece. :)Beta:
sevfanDisclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Trust
~
Very well, I shall answer your impertinent questions in the hope that you shall henceforth leave us alone. Understood?
First, I’m sure you have come to realize that I am not by nature a trusting man. Circumstances beyond my control have made that the case. Yes, I can hear you laughing as I say this. This is no surprise, you’re undoubtedly thinking, but it needs to be stated so that you understand the reason that telling anyone our story is so difficult.
This is a story about trust. And no, it’s not about how I got Potter to trust me that first time. As rocky as the start of our relationship was, Potter was still essentially an open, trusting soul when we became lovers. That possibly explains why it took him years to extricate himself from his former relationship. But I digress.
This is about me and my needs.
It took years for me to relax enough to admit that I want the sorts of things that I’m about to tell you about. In my younger years I would never have allowed myself to be this vulnerable, but now that I’m older I am less concerned about appearances and more with satisfaction. I have come close to dying so many times that I’ve vowed to take all I can from life, especially life with Potter.
As with all relationships, it took time for the two of us to know what thrilled the other. Our sex life has always been exciting, our first coupling quite volatile in fact, but nonetheless, the sex has generally been of the ‘normal’ type. Well, as normal as sex between two former enemies could be. What I was about to add, however, was a new dimension.
Everyone has fantasies and desires, and I am no exception, despite my reputation. I have many times told Potter of my ‘kinks’, things that would be considered perversions by the conservative wizarding society at large, and he has done his best to fulfil them. Most of the time he enjoys himself, too. I like to think that this was one of those times.
I picked the end of what had been a difficult week for both of us. My potions experiments had been set back by the delivery of substandard ingredients from my suppliers, and Potter had finally tracked down a rogue Death Eater cell and brought them in.
The weeks he arrests Death Eaters are always difficult for us. I knew many of these people, and while some were evil and depraved, most were simply misguided and young, as I had been when I became one. I generally say nothing, but the strain is often felt in our interactions. It was in that setting that I decided to indulge in one of my fantasies. One we hadn’t discussed.
It is not easy to lace up one’s own corset. It can be done, of course, but it never seems to be tight enough, and house-elves, while useful for some things, dislike doing anything to their masters that they perceive as being harmful. Apparently, corsets fall into this category.
And so, I dismissed Kreacher and waited in our bedroom for Potter to return home, the lace of the corset almost unbearably scratchy. I’m not sure how women stand it. But that discomfort is offset by the tightness, the control, the... breathlessness it provides, which is what I need.
What? Surprised? I cannot imagine why. It has long been recognized that wizarding robes provide superb coverage. I’m sure you’ve heard the speculation about what Hogwarts professors wear beneath their robes. I could have been wearing frilly knickers and high heels as I taught my lessons and no one would have known.
And before you ask, whether I did that or not is neither here nor there. I know for a fact that students have been wondering what lies underneath my many buttons for years. No one looked beyond my greasy hair, enormous nose and disagreeable attitude, however. No one but Potter.
He saw me, warts and all, and he approached me, wanted me, and made me realize that I wanted him. This is why I chose to do this. To show him what I need.
After making preparations, I positioned myself so as to be clearly visible from the door as I waited. I wanted him to know what was happening, to have a moment to decide on a response. It was unusually reasonable of me, I know, but I thought he deserved that much.
I was as hard as I had ever been as I waited. The anticipation, the risk of exposure was delicious, adding to my arousal. Every creak of the floor made need throb through my very bones until I was almost trembling with it.
His hours are often unpredictable, so I knew I might have a long wait, yet that was a part of it as well. If this worked as I thought it would, the result would yield pleasure beyond anything we had done before.
I heard the door open, and I took a deep breath; it would be my last for a while. I stood, leaning over our bed, bare legs spread, arms grasping the posts of the footboard as I waited for him to find me. Had I not mentioned that I was naked save for the corset? No? Well I was. Do pay attention.
“Severus?” he called.
“In here,” I managed, and I even sounded normal. At least I hoped I did.
“It’s been a hard day! We tracked down... Severus?”
I almost smiled at the note that entered his voice when he spotted me. Shock, wonder and no small amount of arousal, and I twisted my head, looking over my shoulder as much as I was able. “Good, you’re finally here,” I said, shifting my hips. “I require assistance.”
This was when he could have dashed my hopes. He could have said no and turned and walked away, but he is a Gryffindor, and he has yet to run from any challenge. I’ve never told him how I count on that trait, and never more than at that moment.
He walked closer, and upon reaching me, I could feel the heat of his body, even through his robes.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He touched me then, his hands hesitant as they brushed down my bare shoulders and down my upper back to where the corset started.
“I require your assistance,” I repeated, holding my breath with an emotion others might have called hope. “Will you...?”
“Yes,” he whispered, somehow knowing what I was asking for. My relief at that moment was almost dizzying.
“What should I do?”
“Pull it tighter,” I replied around the lump in my throat. “Make me feel it.”
He gathered the laces and pulled half-heartedly. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly.
“Oh no,” I replied. “It contains me, keeps me from...” I paused, not sure if he was ready to hear all that I had to say about this. “It feels good,” I finally said. “Tighter. Do it tighter.”
He did. Somehow he pulled it until I had to pant for breath, and when he secured it, I smiled.
“You look...” I heard him swallow audibly, and my head dropped, exposing my neck. I wondered if I would have to tell him what to do next, but no, his instincts were speaking clearly to him, and spreading his hand, he laid it flat against my abdomen and pressed his fully clothed body against my back.
“Tell me,” I gasped. “How do I look?”
“Amazing,” he whispered, his hot breath stirring the hair on my neck. “Just fabulous. I want to...”
Anything. “Yes, what do you want to do?”
His hand slid across the lace and on down until his fingers were tangled in my pubic hair and nudging my erect cock. “I want to do everything,” he whispered, and the longing in his voice made me shudder.
“Yes,” I said, and quick as a Snitch he had me pressed face down on the bed, my legs still spread. The corset was still constraining me beautifully, making my breathing short and my head light.
His hands were kneading my arse, his fingers pressing deep as if trying to leave their indelible mark.
“No matter what I want to do you won’t stop me, will you?” he asked.
I closed my eyes. Finally, he understood.
My arse was parted and I blinked. Surely he wouldn’t just do it dry... He didn’t. He did something we had never done before, something I never imagined he would even consider. He stuck his face in my arse and licked my hole.
If the corset hadn’t already taken most of my breath then that would have. I believe I screamed, but the memory of what I did in that moment is vague. Yes, I could take it out look at it in the Pensieve, but you can’t, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
Let us presume that I screamed. I don’t see why that would be so hard to understand. If you were ever lucky enough to have Harry lick your arsehole open then I guarantee you would scream, too.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. There I was, exactly where I wanted to be, spread open for Harry, breath short and beautifully controlled by the corset he had laced up so very perfectly, his tongue inside me, and when his finger crept in alongside it was like nothing I had ever felt before.
A second finger joined the first, and I imagine it was probably too difficult for him to continue licking as he finger-fucked me, so he leaned over, fingers deep inside, searching.
“More,” I said, every breath a struggle, and when he found my prostate I think I almost blacked out for a moment, the pleasure was that intense. To my shame, I screamed again, imploring him for more with little gasping sounds. It’s a good thing he knows me so well.
“You’re incredible,” he panted as he pushed a fourth finger in. “How many can you take, I wonder?”
A stab of arousal so all-encompassing as to be blinding shook me at his words. We had talked about fisting before, but had never done anything about it. Would he...?
“It will have to be... later, though, Severus,” he continued, leaning forward, his voice low and shaking. “I have to fuck you now.”
That will do, I thought, my arse muscles fluttering around his fingers as I imagined what having his entire hand inside me would feel like.
He was muttering beneath his breath, fingers moving frantically even as I could hear the wet sounds of him preparing himself.
When he pulled those fingers out, I closed my eyes, readying myself for that first delicious burning push.
He slid in, my earlier preparations, the rimming and the prolonged finger play, making it an easy entrance, and as he tunnelled deep, I felt the brush of his robes. He was still clothed and that was the last straw.
The realization that the sight of me in a corset waiting for him had made him so eager to fuck me that he couldn’t even undress before doing it made me convulse, my orgasm barrelling over me before I could stop it, and he rode me through it, thrusting wildly as I gasped for breath and shuddered.
He was still moving when I stopped coming, and that was when it registered that he had been sucking kisses into my neck as he’d been fucking me. And in that moment, listening to his breathless pants and half-finished words of endearment, it hit me: he would do anything for me, even if it was something he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
What little breath there was in my body left with a rush after that, and as he came, groaning against me, I surrendered to the blissful darkness, knowing I could trust him to do whatever was needed.
When I awoke, I was lying in his arms; we were both naked, and the room was lit with candles. I could breathe again and it felt good.
“Are you okay? he asked.
I nodded. This was when I assumed he would want to talk about things, and could feel myself tensing up, but he surprised me again.
“You know,” he whispered. “I will always give you what you need. All you have to do is... let me know somehow.”
I nodded again.
“And I’ll let you know what I need,” he continued.
I smiled. I knew what he needed, and fortunately, it was what I needed, too. “Next week will be your turn,” I murmured before falling asleep.
And so that is how I ended up here in Diagon Alley, purchasing a skirt for Harry to use in one of his fantasies. He does have such wonderful legs, after all.
You look surprised that I shared this with you in such detail. Indeed, I imagined my answer would shock you, Miss Skeeter, but you see, you shan’t be saying anything about it as you shall forget this conversation very soon, I promise you. Obliviate!
~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-28 04:15 am (UTC)*hugs*