What's Your Fantasy

What's Your Fantasy

by: Rose Songweaver

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Summary:

At least two-dozen mini-lemons, in no particular order, taken from Ludacris's lyrics for What's Your Fantasy; pairs and warning vary.

General warnings: explicit foreplay and/or oral, anal, and vaginal sex, scenes including but not limited to: power plays, d/s, bondage, voyeurism, exhibitionism, infidelity, role play, implied consent, general variety.

Characters may include: Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Nymphadora Tonks, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, various Weasley brothers, Lucius Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Remus Lupin, possibly others

Note: I do supply the pairing and lyrics at the end, so if you absolutely must, you can look there first. However, sometimes the surprise makes the story better. And, no, these are definitely not DH compatible, possibly not even HBP or earlier

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Scene One: Moonlight

Hermione Granger loved her house.

She had done rather well for herself, she thought. Spell worker, librarian, researcher, and inventor made the list of jobs she held at one time or another, leaving her rather well off. Her first order of business: a blend of Muggle and Wizard home. Preferably seamless integration. There would be no Weasley lumpiness in her home; if she had the magic to fix it, she would.

Three years later, she was left with a nice, three story house. The basement was perfect for Potions work; ingredients could be maintained easily, without disruption, and Potions left to smolder out of the way. There were several large, identically stocked labs, allowing her to have several projects going at the same time.

The ground level was, admittedly, Muggle decorated. The kitchen, living room, dining room, library, and green house were all located on this level. Rich red wood furniture, complete with silk covers, set off sheer, soft curtains and luxurious rugs. That level was all about freshness: she wanted her first steps indoors to begin the relaxing process. Off-white, complete with cleaning spells, graced almost everything, with the exception of some creamy blue offsets. Large windows spilled light into every corner.

The second level, however, was a sharp variant with the first.

Heavily warded, she had no problem letting her sensual side display itself in the bedroom, personal library, and bathrooms. Dark, smooth stone bathroom floors and bathtubs, bright platinum metal work, hard wood floors, and deep, thick scarlet bed sheets, accompanied with small widows and burning torches, created an aura of sin.

The layout was designed to accommodate a guest room, guest bath, library, private bedroom, and private bath. The only staircase, pressed against the outer corner of the house, led directly to a hallway. The first door, only a few feet from the top of the stairs, led to the guest bedroom, which in turn connected to the guest bath. The hallway continued all the way to the opposite outer corner of the house, housing no more doors, but displaying several paintings and photographs in black frames. Then the hall turned, continuing along the connecting edge, almost all the way to the corner edge. A few feet short, however, the hallway ended and the walker was displayed a wall and a door.

The door was even more heavily warded, mainly because of the treasure inside: Hermione's private library.

It housed several rare and valuable texts, a few illegal texts, and many, many advanced books on a variety of subjects. They were neatly housed on fifty floor to ceiling shelves, separated by subject, then author, then title.

The only door in this room was halfway across the inner wall, leading to a small connector room that only housed a chair and two doors, one leading to Hermione's bathroom, the other to her bedroom.

The layout of her special house may seem ridiculous, difficult, and private. After all, the only way to reach her bedroom was by making a circuit around the rest of the floor! (Although, this last was not quite true; there was an extremely secret door in the corner of the hall, leading into Hermione's room, there in case a quick escape was necessary.) However, this house's inconvenience was purposeful: Hermione Granger had a secret.

The secret's name was Severus Snape.

Her lover of four years, they enjoyed many hours of intimacy, not purely on the sexual level, but were frequently interrupted by her dramatic, nosy, and well-meaning friends, who were incidentally not in on the secret. After only a month, the long floor plan was a blessing.

However, she loved her house for more than stopping the cock-blockers: it also had something she adored. Something purely Muggle.

A sunroof.

The third level up was an attic of sorts where she did Spell Work. The door was only keyed to her and Severus; even Harry and Ron could not enter, though this was more for their safety. The only door was located in a corner of her library, and was invisible.

The attic was even more purposefully designed than the second floor. It was like a long hallway all around the corners of the house, making a complete square. However, the center contained no room; here, there was a square of empty space.

The space for her sunroof.

Accessible only by Apparation from her bedroom, it was an indulgence in every degree. Here, she could lay on her bed, or sit in her chair, or soak in her bathtub, and still feel sun on her body. Or, if she was feeling particularly stressed, she could lay on the glass roof itself, unseen by everyone.

Again, she and Severus were the only ones who could indulge this way. And indulge they did: if Hermione was feeling particularly randy, she would lay naked on the roof, or give him a peep show on the roof, or even start before him on those really stressful days.

Yes, it was a good roof.

She lay there now, in the dark, staring at the moon, full overhead. She wore a deep emerald dress, spread around her hips and legs to create a triangle of shape. Her hands were behind her head, cushioning her, as she stared up, deep in thought. It had been a bad day, a failure of a day; as always, Hermione was affected by failure more than most. She came up here to think, theorize- if she could just overcome the boundaries of fire in no-space, she could perhaps make it work...

The crack of Apparation split the air, but she did not move, except for frowning slightly. It was just Severus, come to keep her company, maybe read a book against the glow of his wand, but she was annoyed and would prefer to be left alone.

Instead of his quiet greeting, she heard a whisper of sound before she was bound, ankles and wrists, blindfolded, and gagged, twisted face down, forced to stare down into blackness.

Rich laughter sounded as she struggled, wordless with rage, wand clattered somewhere in the darkness from her movement.

"You look delicious like this, you know."

She knew the voice, but that did not relax her. Lucius Malfoy was not a source of relief. Although, yes, Severus had invited him to share their bed on occasion, those few encounters were always when she desired roughness, possession, a certain dirtiness more than usual. Malfoy was always dominant, always sneering, hurting her as he pleasured her. Something she desired some nights, but not now and never without Severus.

She growled low, and he laughed again. "Oh, Mudblood, you truly are like an animal."

Then his strong hands had pinned her hips, pressing his hips and pulsing erection into her rear.

"Imagine my surprise when I visit and not only is Severus not here, but I am given an opportunity to dally in the mud."

He rolled his hips, a smooth motion that wedged him between her cheeks. She cursed silently in her head- although her mind was not the least bit excited, her body reacted to the familiar roughness, the familiar disdain, quickening her breathing with more than surprise.

He heard it too, the bastard, and it amused him all the more. Leaning forward until his untied hair fell around her face, he hissed into her ear, "You like this, Mudblood. You like being treated like the whore you pretend you aren't. Maybe consciously you don't, but I am sure that if I touched you now, you would be wet, dripping your filth."

Then his weight left her, and she made to lurch awkwardly back, when something thin and hard pressed the back of her neck down. It was cool, and instinct told her what it was- the end of his cane.

A clatter as he stepped down from the raised glass, careful to keep her pinned, then one hand was roughly jerking her skirt up. It was loose everywhere but the hips, and fell up easily, allowing him access to the back of her thighs, the bottom of her ass.

She yelped though the gag as he bit her, hard, almost drawing blood on the crease between her ass and leg. Hissing with pain, she was slow to realize that he had grasped her knee and drew her back to the edge of the window until only her hips were supported.

Her skirt was tossed farther back this time, and he released her knee, allowing her bound legs to fall straight down, toes barely touching the ground. He fingered her matching green panties, a lacy pair of faux booty shorts, then roughly ripped them down, the scratchy lace leaving marks.

She struggled anew, struggling to jerk her legs up and kick him, to roll over, to force the cane off her neck, but his hips pinned hers again, and this time there was nothing between their bodies. His hard, pulsing cock rested between her cheeks, slamming her bottom down, his legs spread around hers to avoid her desperate movements.

His hand pressed hard at the small of her back as his hips drew back slightly. Knowing what was coming, she struggled anew, shrieking through her bindings, trying one last time to stop him-

-And then the tip of him rested against her, and he pressed his hips forward, a steady, strong pressure that forced him into her pussy, tighter than usual from her position. He hissed as she shrieked, both of them feeling him forcefully part her inner flesh. It was mostly force that took him deeper, though she was wet enough to make it a little easier going.

She was gasping, jerking, as his cock, unwelcome as it was, fucked her violently. She was jerking at the friction, the inner burn, the way his cock rubbed her g-spot, the way his heavy testicles bounced off her clit.

Panting, he leaned in again, hair draping around her again as his hips worked his cock in and out, shoving in to the hilt. "Yes, Mudblood whore, take this cock. Feel how helpless you are? Feel how you have to take all of me?" To make his point, he pushed a little harder, a little faster, a little more brutal, increasing the power. Her pussy was soaking now, slight spasms jerking her inner flesh as her shoulders twitched from the pleasure. "That's right. This is your place. Under a Pureblood, not even good enough to see my face. Not good enough for me to undress. All you need is for me to unbutton my pants. You should be receiving me every night, want it or not, like it or not."

Here he paused, stopping his words, pressing deep inside and not moving. He moved his hips, tight against her ass, in a circle, his cock winding inside, and she choked out a groan.

The sneer was audible as he spoke, resuming his rough thrusting. "But you do like it, Mudblood. I'm raping you, and you're getting off on it. I'm mastering you, and you like it."

Her back arched helplessly as her body came apart, pleasure melting up her spine, spasms rolling through her pussy, her muscles clutching his cock. Her eyes rolled back and she keened from the intensity. It was so good that she did not even hear the sharp crack, did not hear the deep voice say, "Off."

Lucius pulled out slowly, a deliberate slide that had her spasming again, all those sensitive spots touched again. Strong, rougher hands rolled her onto her back, tugged off the blindfold, but left the gag.

She stared into Severus's face, dazed from the force of her pleasure. She noted, vaguely, that he did not look angry, but instead looked turned on, violently turned on, inner darkness pulsing in his eyes.

He gently pulled up her legs, lifting until her legs were slightly folded and her ankles rested on his shoulder.

However, there was no gentleness when he grasped her hips and drove his cock into her pussy.

She gasped and arched, shifting his place inside, causing both of them to hiss.

"Yes, witch, take this cock. Take all of it."

He drew back and plunged in again, a violently strong shove of his hips. That one thrust was stronger than Lucius had been, and she knew just by the force that though he wouldn't last long, he would bruise her in his desire. And she wanted the bruising.

The tip of him hit her cervix, and the pain/pleasure of it, coupled with the fiery friction, set her oversensitive body off again. She was writhing, twisting, and he was moving deep inside her, punishing her with his cock, hard, harder. Her hips arched helplessly, her pussy clenched again in climax-

- Severus arched into her with a roar, their eyes locked, the pleasure pulsing in them-

- Lucius's hand spasmed around his own cock, and he came with a hiss, cum jetting to the floor-

- and Hermione's eyes rolled back, her body slumped, and she passed out.

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Later, she turned to Severus, lips pursed in an attempt at anger.

"You invited him here."

"Yes."

"You let him rape me. Sort of."

"Yes."

"You did this without asking me."

"Yes."

"To... relax me."

"Yes."

Hermione stared at him, and he stared back, completely without repentance.

She sighed, too boneless to care. "Don't do it again."

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Pairing: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy

Lyric: 'Tell me what's your fantasy, like up on the roof, roof, tell your boyfriend not to be mad at me'

Approx. 2500 words, 8 pages

Time: 1.5 hours

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Yes, dear readers, I have updated something that is not Masquerade. Unfortunately, my writing habits leave something to be desired: I need to think for long amounts of time about any serious story, have it planned, then write a chapter at all time. Not good, I know, but Chapter Two turned out excellent, and rushed out in one sitting; I am determined to continue that trend.

However, I needed to write, so you get to enjoy these little lemons. Smut, hopefully no plot involved. However, knowing me, some might slip by. Equally these little lemons might drag- I am prone to over description. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Btw, this chapter is a tribute to all you Snape/Lucius fans. Including myself. And yes, I do have a secret love of prejudiced dirty talk from those darker wizards. We might see more of it in later fics.

And I spent a lot of time worrying about the layout of the house- it was so important- that I drew up a visual aid for those of you that needed a little help. Unfortunately it's not letting me load. So, send me a review with your email address and I'll send you an email.