Untitled, for Jenna
Title: Untitled
Recipient: Jenna, GringottsVault711, irishphoenix711 *cough*
Request: The main thing: I want something hot. // I don't necessarily mean smutty [though, I wouldn't object]. But I want it to be heated -- represented in the physical setting and in the emotion. Maybe something Angry and Passionate. // And, if it's doable, I don't want too much plot. I don't want a 'story'. I don't want Harry to go to the store to pick up milk. I want Harry to be at the store. [Please don't write a fic where Harry is at the store]. Just one of those one-shots that's a day or an hour or a minute between two people. Or just an idea or a theme. I just don't like long narratives much, they kind of bore me. // Now, if I'm done asking too much of my unfortunate victim, pairings I would like: Harry/Ron, Lily/Narcissa, Sirius/Lily, Bill/Fleur, Remus/Ginny, or -- if you really love me and are up to it, Siobhan/Lucius.
Rating: R
Pairing: Siobhan/Lucius
A/N: To: The Future Mrs Isaacs, Malfoy, Zidane, Ljungberg, or Klinsman
From: Your Ship's Cat's Sister and OC's Brother's Other Lover
Harry peered up and down the milk aisle of the nearly empty supermarket, his eyes restlessly wandering the deserted aisles of long-forgotten dairy products.
Just kidding….
*~*
Siobhan didn’t need to turn to see who had whispered in her ear. She already knew. She felt it in a tingle down her back, in icy needles of a desire frozen in time.
“Siobhan.”
She heard the whisper after she felt it. He’s here, she thought. She was nearly as incredulous as she had been that first day in the library at the Manor. He had really come, and he had just confronted her right in the street! Siobhan was overwhelmed by expectations.
Then he was gone.
Siobhan stood motionless, shaken. She knew where he was going, and as she turned in the correct direction, she suddenly felt as though she had to restrain herself from breaking into a run and sprinting after him as fast as she could go. She wanted him so acutely, it was almost as if her desire was a tangible companion, urging her forward through the cold.
Instead of making her run, her longing ran up and down her body in little bursts of warmth. Her heart pounded two beats to every footstep that crunched in the snow gathering at her feet.
She was getting closer, and he was waiting. She wanted him to always be by her side, waiting for her. She wanted to be his love, and, most of all, she wanted to have his love all to herself. Stop thinking that way, she admonished herself. You’re being ridiculous. In her heart, though, she knew the truth in her hope, and she didn’t like it at all.
Siobhan could feel all of her senses reaching out to him.
“Lucius,” she whispered, tasting the long-unused word on her lips.
“Siobhan!”
She frowned, her thoughts still ahead of her with Lucius as someone else called her back from her daydreams.
“Where are you off to? And why are you here?” It was Potter, smiling and chasing after Siobhan and her desire, both of whom were forced to stop and make polite conversation.
She moistened her dry lips. She wanted to feel them on Lucius’s, where they just seemed to fit-
“Hiya, Potter.”
He began to speak.
Siobhan remembered Lucius’s touch. For the first time since her departure from the Manor, she welcomed the memory with an open heart. She could feel his hands on her back, her skin on fire under his careful fingers. Her forehead tingled when she remembered his gentle touch as he brushed back her hair-
“Siobhan?”
Her concentration snapped back to the present.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“It’s fine,” Harry reassured, brow wrinkled in worry. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, fine, really,” Siobhan assured. “I was just-”
“Oh, good,” Harry interrupted, smiling. “I was....”
Siobhan couldn’t find the will to concentrate on Harry’s words when memories of Lucius were closing in on her. I want you to use me, she thought. I want you. What was love without unfulfilled desire? It had no long-sought passion, no dreams, wishes, or hopes. With love easily accessible, it was underappreciated. It made the spark simmer out of a relationship. But Siobhan felt the pull of Lucius’s love, and she needed him.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you back at school, then,” Harry was concluding.
Siobhan nodded and waved goodbye to Potter before turning on her heel and allowing the flood of memories to rush back and fill her in a tide of insatiable yearning.
She was almost there. She could think of nothing but being with him again.
As she climbed the stairs, she remembered his love. She could feel his skin on hers, feel how comfortable they were when they were together, how easily they connected, like pieces of a puzzle no one but the two of them could solve.
Siobhan counted doors. Left side, fourth door. The hallway seemed to stretch in front of her as an endless hindrance, keeping her away from him. No one had ever spoken to her like he had. She was his love. She missed their tantalising conversations and days together and the repartee they exchanged, even in company.
She knocked on the door.
She could have other men, but what if he was all she wanted?
The door opened.
Siobhan inhaled. It was his scent. Suddenly, he was all around her. She could feel him again.
“Lucius,” Siobhan breathed, taking one step into the room and just looking at him.
He stood a foot or so away from her, surveying her. His robes, as usual, were perfectly arranged. He appeared regal and distant, unsmiling everywhere but his eyes, which danced with carefully concealed happiness and anticipation.
“My love.”
Siobhan felt her pent-up ardour fill here once more; everything she’d denied herself since they’d parted was hers again, and she was burning for his love, desperate for returned desire. She went to him, and, as they met, she felt finally fulfilled, as though a missing link in her life had at long last clicked into place.
Then a switch was flipped and the meaning of his two words finally sank in. She pushed away from him, frowning and shaking her head in incredulity. Taken aback, Lucius sat abruptly in a velvet armchair placed against the tapestry-covered wall just behind him, eyeing her quizzically.
Siobhan scowled at him.
“Your love?” she gasped as though he had jolted the air from her lungs with the word.
Lucius waited.
“If I was really your love,” Siobhan hissed, “You would have kissed me out there in the street without a second thought.”
“Siobhan,” Lucius soothed, adopting his reasoning tone. “You know-”
“But do I? Do I ever know it’s only me, and that you have your reasons?” She closed her eyes and covered them with her left hand, sighing wearily. “I can never know. Never! But why does that frustrate me so much?”
She opened her eyes and gazed at Lucius, who reclined, calculating as usual.
She kissed him then, throwing her frustration and the burning agony of all those cold nights without him into that kiss, one knee on either side of his hips on the chair, her fingers tearing at his clothes, pulling at everything she could reach, anything to be closer to him after what felt like a lifetime of him with everyone but her.
Siobhan could feel Lucius returning her frustrated advances, his strong hands lifting her dress to pull her hips closer to his own. She felt the long-lost twist of need for him, and it made her want to be with him a thousand times sooner.
He lifted her to her feet and spun her around, pushing her backwards with insistent kisses until she was delightfully pinned against the rug-covered wall, just moments and inches away from having him again.
She would never get tired of this.
Each of them free of both undergarments and inhibitions, Siobhan wrapped her right leg around his hips, standing on tiptoe while he supported her by pushing her harder against the wall. He ran his hands down her shoulders, breasts and waist with desperate caresses. Siobhan closed her eyes and contented herself with simply feeling him.
He felt-familiar. It was almost as though they were at the Manor again, having that same conversation. Had the answer to her question changed?
“Am I your love?” He kissed her neck, his hands at her hips once more. “Or am I just your toy?”
How could something familiar still feel so perfect? It was the beauty of their love.
“Do you want me to use you?” Lucius responded ambiguously as he explored her inner thighs with his fingers.
Siobhan closed her eyes, wanting every second of passion more than ever before.
“Yes!”
He accepted this affirmation as permission, and she felt him guiding himself into her again in an eruption of sudden, long-lost elation. She felt him everywhere, penetrating her body and soul. She responded with equal fervour as he moved in rhythm with the sparks exploding through Siobhan’s body.
“My love,” he said softly, his words escaping in a gentle moan. His fingers wove into her hair as he pushed harder. “My Siobhan.”
Siobhan let their fiery ecstasy course through her body.
“You’ll never stop taking my breath away,” she murmured.
It was in that moment that everything suddenly seemed to fit.
Recipient: Jenna, GringottsVault711, irishphoenix711 *cough*
Request: The main thing: I want something hot. // I don't necessarily mean smutty [though, I wouldn't object]. But I want it to be heated -- represented in the physical setting and in the emotion. Maybe something Angry and Passionate. // And, if it's doable, I don't want too much plot. I don't want a 'story'. I don't want Harry to go to the store to pick up milk. I want Harry to be at the store. [Please don't write a fic where Harry is at the store]. Just one of those one-shots that's a day or an hour or a minute between two people. Or just an idea or a theme. I just don't like long narratives much, they kind of bore me. // Now, if I'm done asking too much of my unfortunate victim, pairings I would like: Harry/Ron, Lily/Narcissa, Sirius/Lily, Bill/Fleur, Remus/Ginny, or -- if you really love me and are up to it, Siobhan/Lucius.
Rating: R
Pairing: Siobhan/Lucius
A/N: To: The Future Mrs Isaacs, Malfoy, Zidane, Ljungberg, or Klinsman
From: Your Ship's Cat's Sister and OC's Brother's Other Lover
Harry peered up and down the milk aisle of the nearly empty supermarket, his eyes restlessly wandering the deserted aisles of long-forgotten dairy products.
Just kidding….
*~*
Siobhan didn’t need to turn to see who had whispered in her ear. She already knew. She felt it in a tingle down her back, in icy needles of a desire frozen in time.
“Siobhan.”
She heard the whisper after she felt it. He’s here, she thought. She was nearly as incredulous as she had been that first day in the library at the Manor. He had really come, and he had just confronted her right in the street! Siobhan was overwhelmed by expectations.
Then he was gone.
Siobhan stood motionless, shaken. She knew where he was going, and as she turned in the correct direction, she suddenly felt as though she had to restrain herself from breaking into a run and sprinting after him as fast as she could go. She wanted him so acutely, it was almost as if her desire was a tangible companion, urging her forward through the cold.
Instead of making her run, her longing ran up and down her body in little bursts of warmth. Her heart pounded two beats to every footstep that crunched in the snow gathering at her feet.
She was getting closer, and he was waiting. She wanted him to always be by her side, waiting for her. She wanted to be his love, and, most of all, she wanted to have his love all to herself. Stop thinking that way, she admonished herself. You’re being ridiculous. In her heart, though, she knew the truth in her hope, and she didn’t like it at all.
Siobhan could feel all of her senses reaching out to him.
“Lucius,” she whispered, tasting the long-unused word on her lips.
“Siobhan!”
She frowned, her thoughts still ahead of her with Lucius as someone else called her back from her daydreams.
“Where are you off to? And why are you here?” It was Potter, smiling and chasing after Siobhan and her desire, both of whom were forced to stop and make polite conversation.
She moistened her dry lips. She wanted to feel them on Lucius’s, where they just seemed to fit-
“Hiya, Potter.”
He began to speak.
Siobhan remembered Lucius’s touch. For the first time since her departure from the Manor, she welcomed the memory with an open heart. She could feel his hands on her back, her skin on fire under his careful fingers. Her forehead tingled when she remembered his gentle touch as he brushed back her hair-
“Siobhan?”
Her concentration snapped back to the present.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“It’s fine,” Harry reassured, brow wrinkled in worry. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, fine, really,” Siobhan assured. “I was just-”
“Oh, good,” Harry interrupted, smiling. “I was....”
Siobhan couldn’t find the will to concentrate on Harry’s words when memories of Lucius were closing in on her. I want you to use me, she thought. I want you. What was love without unfulfilled desire? It had no long-sought passion, no dreams, wishes, or hopes. With love easily accessible, it was underappreciated. It made the spark simmer out of a relationship. But Siobhan felt the pull of Lucius’s love, and she needed him.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you back at school, then,” Harry was concluding.
Siobhan nodded and waved goodbye to Potter before turning on her heel and allowing the flood of memories to rush back and fill her in a tide of insatiable yearning.
She was almost there. She could think of nothing but being with him again.
As she climbed the stairs, she remembered his love. She could feel his skin on hers, feel how comfortable they were when they were together, how easily they connected, like pieces of a puzzle no one but the two of them could solve.
Siobhan counted doors. Left side, fourth door. The hallway seemed to stretch in front of her as an endless hindrance, keeping her away from him. No one had ever spoken to her like he had. She was his love. She missed their tantalising conversations and days together and the repartee they exchanged, even in company.
She knocked on the door.
She could have other men, but what if he was all she wanted?
The door opened.
Siobhan inhaled. It was his scent. Suddenly, he was all around her. She could feel him again.
“Lucius,” Siobhan breathed, taking one step into the room and just looking at him.
He stood a foot or so away from her, surveying her. His robes, as usual, were perfectly arranged. He appeared regal and distant, unsmiling everywhere but his eyes, which danced with carefully concealed happiness and anticipation.
“My love.”
Siobhan felt her pent-up ardour fill here once more; everything she’d denied herself since they’d parted was hers again, and she was burning for his love, desperate for returned desire. She went to him, and, as they met, she felt finally fulfilled, as though a missing link in her life had at long last clicked into place.
Then a switch was flipped and the meaning of his two words finally sank in. She pushed away from him, frowning and shaking her head in incredulity. Taken aback, Lucius sat abruptly in a velvet armchair placed against the tapestry-covered wall just behind him, eyeing her quizzically.
Siobhan scowled at him.
“Your love?” she gasped as though he had jolted the air from her lungs with the word.
Lucius waited.
“If I was really your love,” Siobhan hissed, “You would have kissed me out there in the street without a second thought.”
“Siobhan,” Lucius soothed, adopting his reasoning tone. “You know-”
“But do I? Do I ever know it’s only me, and that you have your reasons?” She closed her eyes and covered them with her left hand, sighing wearily. “I can never know. Never! But why does that frustrate me so much?”
She opened her eyes and gazed at Lucius, who reclined, calculating as usual.
She kissed him then, throwing her frustration and the burning agony of all those cold nights without him into that kiss, one knee on either side of his hips on the chair, her fingers tearing at his clothes, pulling at everything she could reach, anything to be closer to him after what felt like a lifetime of him with everyone but her.
Siobhan could feel Lucius returning her frustrated advances, his strong hands lifting her dress to pull her hips closer to his own. She felt the long-lost twist of need for him, and it made her want to be with him a thousand times sooner.
He lifted her to her feet and spun her around, pushing her backwards with insistent kisses until she was delightfully pinned against the rug-covered wall, just moments and inches away from having him again.
She would never get tired of this.
Each of them free of both undergarments and inhibitions, Siobhan wrapped her right leg around his hips, standing on tiptoe while he supported her by pushing her harder against the wall. He ran his hands down her shoulders, breasts and waist with desperate caresses. Siobhan closed her eyes and contented herself with simply feeling him.
He felt-familiar. It was almost as though they were at the Manor again, having that same conversation. Had the answer to her question changed?
“Am I your love?” He kissed her neck, his hands at her hips once more. “Or am I just your toy?”
How could something familiar still feel so perfect? It was the beauty of their love.
“Do you want me to use you?” Lucius responded ambiguously as he explored her inner thighs with his fingers.
Siobhan closed her eyes, wanting every second of passion more than ever before.
“Yes!”
He accepted this affirmation as permission, and she felt him guiding himself into her again in an eruption of sudden, long-lost elation. She felt him everywhere, penetrating her body and soul. She responded with equal fervour as he moved in rhythm with the sparks exploding through Siobhan’s body.
“My love,” he said softly, his words escaping in a gentle moan. His fingers wove into her hair as he pushed harder. “My Siobhan.”
Siobhan let their fiery ecstasy course through her body.
“You’ll never stop taking my breath away,” she murmured.
It was in that moment that everything suddenly seemed to fit.