FIC: Pirate vs Ninja, Pansy/Hermione
Pirate vs Ninja
by dramaphile
rated: NC-17
pairing: Pansy/Hermione
summary: Pirate Hermione gets a strange visitor with a message to deliver.
notes: This story is for the very awesome redpiratemel, who is changing her name to redinjamel because it's so much more awesome to be a ninja.
Yes indeed, a Pirate's life was for Hermione. After finishing off Voldemort with a well-aimed Portabellus Hex (it had been a stroke of luck that they'd learned that Tom Riddle was deathly allergic to mushrooms), Harry had told the Wizarding world to fuck off and bought himself a pirate ship with the reward money the Ministry gave him. He, Ron, and Hermione had set off more than a year ago to sail the high seas, drink themselves into oblivion, and plunder the yachts of the Rich and Famous (although they only took the important booty: condoms, sunblock and booze).
Harry was captain, of course, and proudly wore a big hat with an enormous feather in it. Not that he was compensating, Hermione was well apprised of that information. It was lonely on the high seas, after all. Ron was first mate, as he'd been all his life. Nobody but Harry and Hermione knew that he only wore the eyepatch because he thought it made him look dangerous. Hermione, as usual, was the navigator. She researched and planned routes, made sure nobody got scurvy, and followed the gossip mags religiously to find out when and where the next celebrity would be out yachting.
A few well-placed oblivates made certain that no one remembered being pillaged, although there had been a mysterious celebrity baby boom of recent. Not that it had anything to do with the missing condoms, of course.
Hermione was having a relaxing day. They'd just plundered Becks and Posh's yacht, and Harry and Ron had gone to shore to score themselves a different kind of booty, so she was left all by herself on the ship. Decked out in her red and white striped pirate bikini, leather boots, and some no-doubt absurdly expensive suntan lotion she'd nicked from the yacht, Hermione was prepared for a nice nap in the warm sun. Little did she know, at that moment a mysterious figure in a black wetsuit was climbing up the starboard side of the boat.
The sun and the waves had nearly lulled her to sleep, when she heard a whistling noise go past her ear. Hermione's eyes snapped open and she saw a curious-looking metal object stuck into the side of her deck chair. It was silvery, and had six very sharp points. She's seen one of these before, in a Muggle film. It was a Ninja star! She jumped to her feet and grabbed her saber from under her chair. A pirate was always prepared for danger, after all!
"Well, well, Granger," came a haughty feminine voice. Hermione turned, and gaped at the sight. A woman was standing on the deck. Another ninja star ready in her hand, dressed in an outfit that was tighter than should be legal. She was in all black, from head to toe, accessorized with thigh-high stiletto boots, a utility belt holding all sorts of dangerous-looking weapons, black kid gloves, and a black cloth covering the lower half of her face. Still- that voice- those eyes- Hermione recognized her in an instant.
"Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione held her sword at the ready, just in case the other woman did something dangerous.
The woman ripped away the cloth, revealing that Hermione was, indeed, correct. "Nice bikini, Gryffindor," Parkinson said with the slightest hint of lust in her voice. Hermione resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze.
"What are you doing on my ship?" She demanded, regaining her momentarily-lost composure.
"If I told you that I'd have to kill you," Parkinson replied, with a cryptic smirk.
Hermione glared at her menacingly. "And what's with the get-up, Parkinson?"
The other woman unsheathed a long, very sharp-looking samurai sword and pointed in at Hermione's throat. "That's Parkinson-san, Bitch! I work for Draco now. Ever since Potter faffed off to this dodgy little boat of yours, Draco's been studying Ninjas and he's slowly penetrated every level of government with his super-secret Ninja squad." Hermione kept her sword raised. There was something odd about the way Parkinson emphasized the word "penetrated."
"And now he's after Harry?" Hermione rounded on her, "Well, Harry's not here, so you're out of luck, Ninja-girl!"
Parkinson smiled predatorily. "Who says he's the one I'm after?" She lunged with her sword, but Hermione parried quickly, jumping back. Their swords clanged as Parkinson thrust again, and they began full-on dueling, moving about the ship's deck: bosoms heaving, swords flying.
Hermione was holding her own, but every move she made, it seemed like Parkinson had a counter. Parkinson backed her down the stairs, down into the lower deck of the, ship, where Hermione's bunk was. She barely noticed where they were, concentrating only on deflecting the Ninja's blows, until she backed into her bed, and fell backwards as it hit the backs of her knees. Parkinson roundhouse-kicked her hand, and Hermione's sword flew to the other side of the room, leaving her defenseless.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, ready to negotiate now that she was backed into a corner.
"I told you," Parkinson said in a low, husky voice, "I want you." Hermione took in a shuddering breath as the Ninja's sword grazed over the skin of her belly, and then, in a split second, sheared away the string holding her bikini top together, springing her ample bosom free of its confines.
Hermione gasped, moving to cover her exposes breasts, but Parkinson was on top of her in an instant, sword abandoned, her utility belt mysteriously gone. Parkinson grabbed her hands and secured them to the headboard with a black scarf, straddling Hermione's hips as she did so.
"Such a pretty little Pirate," Parkinson remarked, looking into Hermione's eyes before sweeping her gaze down Hermione's body. She bent down to press a light kiss to the corner of Hermione's mouth, and Hermione didn't know whether to turn towards her or away. She was unbelievably aroused, had been since the Ninja babe appeared on the deck, but wasn't Parkinson supposed to be killing her?
Her captor's mouth moved down her neck, pressing light kisses, licking Hermione's collarbone with a gentle touch that made Hermione shiver. Leather-covered hands touched Hermione's breasts, cupping them, squeezing them gently. She gasped as Parkinson pinched her nipples roughly, then bent down to lick and suck them soothingly, sending ripples of pleasure through Hermione's body.
"I don't understand," Hermione said breathlessly as Parkinson moved further down her body trailing fingers down her stomach, playing with the ties on the sides of her bikini bottoms.
"Stop being a fucking brainiac and shut up," Parkinson hissed, and Hermione would have been irritated at her tone were it not for the fact that Parkinson had a dagger, and was currently very carefully cutting the rest of the strings so that Hermione was completely exposed.
Hermione could't help the way her thighs fell open, showing how soaking wet she was, how much Parkinson had aroused her, and Parkinson hummed in approval. "I love my job," she murmured, before sliding two gloved fingers into Hermione's cunt and taking her mouth in an almost violent kiss. Hermione arched into the touch, hips undulating against Parkinson's fingers, biting at her captor's lips and sucking on her tongue.
She moaned into Parkinson's mouth, and was rewarded with the press of a a gloved palm against her clit, rubbing ever so slightly. Her body was on fire; it'd been so long since she'd felt like this, so out of control, and every stroke of those leather-covered fingers brought her closer and closer to release. Parkinson was rubbing against her thigh, she could feel it, damp and hot through the spandex fabric of her Ninja outfit, and Hermione groaned, barely able to breathe because it felt so good. She bit down on Parkinson's bottom lip as she came, harder than she could remember, clenching around Parkinson's gloved hand, crying out into Parkinson's mouth, and she felt Parkinson shudder silently on top of her, body tightening in release.
Parkinson drew back, licking her lips, and gave Hermione a breathless grin. Hermione could do little more than stare at her in shock. What had just happened? That had been entirely unexpected, although quite pleasurable.
"Time for me to go," Parkinson said, suddenly, even though there wasn't a clock in the room, "Ah, I almost forgot!" She reached into her boot and pulled out a small scroll of parchment, dropping it onto Hermione's bare stomach before gathering her weapons and turning to leave. Hermione tugged at her bonds, suddenly realizing she was still tied up.
"Wait, what about me?" She called out as Parkinson left the room. The Ninja didn't stop, but kept walking down the hall, her stilettos clicking on the wood deck.
It was a mere fifteen minutes, during which Hermione had no luck at all in releasing herself, before she heard more footsteps. These were of the more manly variety.
"'Mione, we're back!" came Ron's voice from down the hall.
"In here!" she called out, glad to be finally saved. Ron and Harry walked in, took one look at her, and stared.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes glazing over a bit. She realized how very debauched she must look: sliced up bikini, mussed hair, swollen lips. She definitely looked like she'd just had some very kinky, very hot sex.
"Ninjas," she sighed, tugging at her bonds. Harry and Ron quickly untied her, still looking quite confused. Finally free, she handed the scroll to Harry, who unrolled it warily, tearing his eyes away from Hermione's naked body.
"It's from Malfoy," he said, reading it twice to make sure he'd really read what he thought he'd read. "Er, what do you guys think of giving up being Pirates and being Ninjas instead?"
Hermione grinned and sat up. "Sounds brilliant. When do we start?"
by dramaphile
rated: NC-17
pairing: Pansy/Hermione
summary: Pirate Hermione gets a strange visitor with a message to deliver.
notes: This story is for the very awesome redpiratemel, who is changing her name to redinjamel because it's so much more awesome to be a ninja.
Yes indeed, a Pirate's life was for Hermione. After finishing off Voldemort with a well-aimed Portabellus Hex (it had been a stroke of luck that they'd learned that Tom Riddle was deathly allergic to mushrooms), Harry had told the Wizarding world to fuck off and bought himself a pirate ship with the reward money the Ministry gave him. He, Ron, and Hermione had set off more than a year ago to sail the high seas, drink themselves into oblivion, and plunder the yachts of the Rich and Famous (although they only took the important booty: condoms, sunblock and booze).
Harry was captain, of course, and proudly wore a big hat with an enormous feather in it. Not that he was compensating, Hermione was well apprised of that information. It was lonely on the high seas, after all. Ron was first mate, as he'd been all his life. Nobody but Harry and Hermione knew that he only wore the eyepatch because he thought it made him look dangerous. Hermione, as usual, was the navigator. She researched and planned routes, made sure nobody got scurvy, and followed the gossip mags religiously to find out when and where the next celebrity would be out yachting.
A few well-placed oblivates made certain that no one remembered being pillaged, although there had been a mysterious celebrity baby boom of recent. Not that it had anything to do with the missing condoms, of course.
Hermione was having a relaxing day. They'd just plundered Becks and Posh's yacht, and Harry and Ron had gone to shore to score themselves a different kind of booty, so she was left all by herself on the ship. Decked out in her red and white striped pirate bikini, leather boots, and some no-doubt absurdly expensive suntan lotion she'd nicked from the yacht, Hermione was prepared for a nice nap in the warm sun. Little did she know, at that moment a mysterious figure in a black wetsuit was climbing up the starboard side of the boat.
The sun and the waves had nearly lulled her to sleep, when she heard a whistling noise go past her ear. Hermione's eyes snapped open and she saw a curious-looking metal object stuck into the side of her deck chair. It was silvery, and had six very sharp points. She's seen one of these before, in a Muggle film. It was a Ninja star! She jumped to her feet and grabbed her saber from under her chair. A pirate was always prepared for danger, after all!
"Well, well, Granger," came a haughty feminine voice. Hermione turned, and gaped at the sight. A woman was standing on the deck. Another ninja star ready in her hand, dressed in an outfit that was tighter than should be legal. She was in all black, from head to toe, accessorized with thigh-high stiletto boots, a utility belt holding all sorts of dangerous-looking weapons, black kid gloves, and a black cloth covering the lower half of her face. Still- that voice- those eyes- Hermione recognized her in an instant.
"Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione held her sword at the ready, just in case the other woman did something dangerous.
The woman ripped away the cloth, revealing that Hermione was, indeed, correct. "Nice bikini, Gryffindor," Parkinson said with the slightest hint of lust in her voice. Hermione resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze.
"What are you doing on my ship?" She demanded, regaining her momentarily-lost composure.
"If I told you that I'd have to kill you," Parkinson replied, with a cryptic smirk.
Hermione glared at her menacingly. "And what's with the get-up, Parkinson?"
The other woman unsheathed a long, very sharp-looking samurai sword and pointed in at Hermione's throat. "That's Parkinson-san, Bitch! I work for Draco now. Ever since Potter faffed off to this dodgy little boat of yours, Draco's been studying Ninjas and he's slowly penetrated every level of government with his super-secret Ninja squad." Hermione kept her sword raised. There was something odd about the way Parkinson emphasized the word "penetrated."
"And now he's after Harry?" Hermione rounded on her, "Well, Harry's not here, so you're out of luck, Ninja-girl!"
Parkinson smiled predatorily. "Who says he's the one I'm after?" She lunged with her sword, but Hermione parried quickly, jumping back. Their swords clanged as Parkinson thrust again, and they began full-on dueling, moving about the ship's deck: bosoms heaving, swords flying.
Hermione was holding her own, but every move she made, it seemed like Parkinson had a counter. Parkinson backed her down the stairs, down into the lower deck of the, ship, where Hermione's bunk was. She barely noticed where they were, concentrating only on deflecting the Ninja's blows, until she backed into her bed, and fell backwards as it hit the backs of her knees. Parkinson roundhouse-kicked her hand, and Hermione's sword flew to the other side of the room, leaving her defenseless.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, ready to negotiate now that she was backed into a corner.
"I told you," Parkinson said in a low, husky voice, "I want you." Hermione took in a shuddering breath as the Ninja's sword grazed over the skin of her belly, and then, in a split second, sheared away the string holding her bikini top together, springing her ample bosom free of its confines.
Hermione gasped, moving to cover her exposes breasts, but Parkinson was on top of her in an instant, sword abandoned, her utility belt mysteriously gone. Parkinson grabbed her hands and secured them to the headboard with a black scarf, straddling Hermione's hips as she did so.
"Such a pretty little Pirate," Parkinson remarked, looking into Hermione's eyes before sweeping her gaze down Hermione's body. She bent down to press a light kiss to the corner of Hermione's mouth, and Hermione didn't know whether to turn towards her or away. She was unbelievably aroused, had been since the Ninja babe appeared on the deck, but wasn't Parkinson supposed to be killing her?
Her captor's mouth moved down her neck, pressing light kisses, licking Hermione's collarbone with a gentle touch that made Hermione shiver. Leather-covered hands touched Hermione's breasts, cupping them, squeezing them gently. She gasped as Parkinson pinched her nipples roughly, then bent down to lick and suck them soothingly, sending ripples of pleasure through Hermione's body.
"I don't understand," Hermione said breathlessly as Parkinson moved further down her body trailing fingers down her stomach, playing with the ties on the sides of her bikini bottoms.
"Stop being a fucking brainiac and shut up," Parkinson hissed, and Hermione would have been irritated at her tone were it not for the fact that Parkinson had a dagger, and was currently very carefully cutting the rest of the strings so that Hermione was completely exposed.
Hermione could't help the way her thighs fell open, showing how soaking wet she was, how much Parkinson had aroused her, and Parkinson hummed in approval. "I love my job," she murmured, before sliding two gloved fingers into Hermione's cunt and taking her mouth in an almost violent kiss. Hermione arched into the touch, hips undulating against Parkinson's fingers, biting at her captor's lips and sucking on her tongue.
She moaned into Parkinson's mouth, and was rewarded with the press of a a gloved palm against her clit, rubbing ever so slightly. Her body was on fire; it'd been so long since she'd felt like this, so out of control, and every stroke of those leather-covered fingers brought her closer and closer to release. Parkinson was rubbing against her thigh, she could feel it, damp and hot through the spandex fabric of her Ninja outfit, and Hermione groaned, barely able to breathe because it felt so good. She bit down on Parkinson's bottom lip as she came, harder than she could remember, clenching around Parkinson's gloved hand, crying out into Parkinson's mouth, and she felt Parkinson shudder silently on top of her, body tightening in release.
Parkinson drew back, licking her lips, and gave Hermione a breathless grin. Hermione could do little more than stare at her in shock. What had just happened? That had been entirely unexpected, although quite pleasurable.
"Time for me to go," Parkinson said, suddenly, even though there wasn't a clock in the room, "Ah, I almost forgot!" She reached into her boot and pulled out a small scroll of parchment, dropping it onto Hermione's bare stomach before gathering her weapons and turning to leave. Hermione tugged at her bonds, suddenly realizing she was still tied up.
"Wait, what about me?" She called out as Parkinson left the room. The Ninja didn't stop, but kept walking down the hall, her stilettos clicking on the wood deck.
It was a mere fifteen minutes, during which Hermione had no luck at all in releasing herself, before she heard more footsteps. These were of the more manly variety.
"'Mione, we're back!" came Ron's voice from down the hall.
"In here!" she called out, glad to be finally saved. Ron and Harry walked in, took one look at her, and stared.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes glazing over a bit. She realized how very debauched she must look: sliced up bikini, mussed hair, swollen lips. She definitely looked like she'd just had some very kinky, very hot sex.
"Ninjas," she sighed, tugging at her bonds. Harry and Ron quickly untied her, still looking quite confused. Finally free, she handed the scroll to Harry, who unrolled it warily, tearing his eyes away from Hermione's naked body.
"It's from Malfoy," he said, reading it twice to make sure he'd really read what he thought he'd read. "Er, what do you guys think of giving up being Pirates and being Ninjas instead?"
Hermione grinned and sat up. "Sounds brilliant. When do we start?"