A Malfoy Mistress
Oct. 24th, 2013 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokifanTitle: A Malfoy Mistress
Author:lokifan
Word count: ~1700
Characters/pairings: Astoria/Pansy (implied Astoria/Draco, Pansy/Draco)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: “You have your assets, darling. You have your appeal… I'd never deny that. You're a lot of fun to have around. But you lack the elegance required in a Malfoy wife. I mean, look at you. Trying to slap the bride-to-be, nipples hard right through that rather brief dress. And I know you're wet.”
Warnings: D/s, hatesex-ish
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_humpdrabbles’s Something Wicked This Way Comes kinkmeme, and the "teasing" square on my Kink Bingo card.
Pansy stared down into the shadowy garden. Narcissa's roses were in full bloom beneath, filling the air with scent. She put her champagne flute down on the stone lip of the balcony with an irritable clink; throwing the glass off the balcony might help her vent, but without the satisfying little smash of glass hitting stone, what was the point?
“Enjoying the evening, Pansy?” At that sugary voice, Pansy's shoulders stiffened. She steeled herself then turned with a brilliant smile.
“I am, thank you, Astoria.”
“Good. You certainly seemed to be enjoying the champagne.” Astoria gave her light, hateful laugh.
“And you aren't,” Pansy said, holding her smile. If Astoria thought Pansy was going to lose the round played during Astoria and Draco's engagement party, she didn't know Pansy very well. “Little accident rushing the nuptials forward?”
“No,” Astoria said. She leant against the balcony by Pansy with a little grin. Her blonde hair was silvery in the moonlight. “Draco just decided he wanted to make it official.”
“Draco's never been known for making excellent decisions,” Pansy said dryly.
“Oh, darling,” said Astoria. “Surely you know it could never have been you? Not for marrying.” Her blue eyes were huge, and sympathetic, and Pansy wanted to scratch them out but she couldn't look away.
“Oh?” she said. Astoria was closer than ever, but Pansy forced ice into her tone.
“Well. To be Mrs Malfoy, you know. One needs certain things.”
Pansy snorted and plucked at Astoria's hair, running her fingers over a lock of it. “That's what hair potions are for.”
“Not that.” Pansy had been first to breach the barrier, to touch. Astoria's lips curled victoriously as she lifted a hand and ran the back of one finger over Pansy's chest, tracing the low neckline of her dress. “Class, darling. You lack it.”
“You little – ”
Astoria caught Pansy's wrist with her left hand, halting the slap before it hit. Her other hand stayed at Pansy's breasts, dipping a little. Astoria began to circle her thumb over Pansy's nipple through the silken material of her dress, teasing it hard. Pansy stayed frozen in Astoria's grip, feeling her breath begin to quicken. Astoria's pink smile had gone sly.
“See? You have your assets, darling. You have your appeal...” She squeezed Pansy's breast without looking away from her eyes. “I'd never deny that. You're a lot of fun to have around.” Astoria pinched Pansy's nipple. Pansy let a small sound escape, feeling the tingle of pleasure-pain right down to her cunt. “But you lack the elegance required in a Malfoy wife. I mean, look at you.” She let go of Pansy's breast to gesture. “Trying to slap the bride-to-be, nipples hard right through that rather brief dress. And I know you're wet.”
Pansy flushed. She was, of course; her cunt was tingling with arousal, almost aching from need. There were curtains hiding them from the rest of the party; they could charm them against someone coming looking, and surely –
But she wasn't surrendering that easily.
“So are you,” she said. She stroked a finger over Astoria's flushed cheek and watched Astoria's jaw tighten. “Just because your dress is longer – ”
“That's not the real problem,” said Astoria. Her voice was lower now, but still smooth. “Draco needs someone who can take control.” She pressed Pansy flat against the low balcony, and pulled down the straps of Pansy's dress. Pansy gasped as her breasts were exposed to the cool air and Astoria's clever fingers, her devouring blue eyes. Pansy's back arched; she pressed her bare breasts into Astoria's hands. “That's not you, is it?” Astoria murmured. Pansy lowered her lips to Astoria's neck, her shoulders. Astoria shivered, moaning a little, as Pansy kissed the sensitive skin.
Pansy sucked, just a little, at the pale skin of Astoria's neck. Then she felt Astoria's hand in her hair, pulling hard enough to send pain prickling over her scalp, forcing Pansy's head back. Astoria glared at her. “You think you can mark my neck now?”
Pansy smirked. “I think you like it.”
“Right.” Astoria bit off the word. She let go of Pansy's hair, but she didn't retreat; instead she pushed forward, forcing Pansy to sitting on the balcony, her thighs open round Astoria's hips. Pansy felt the air at her back; she stayed still as Astoria pushed Pansy's short, fluffy skirts up around her waist, exposing her. “Come on,” Astoria said, her voice thrumming with anger and arousal. “Spread your legs. Do it.”
Pansy's whole body went hot; her stomach was tight. She didn't know if it was anger or resentment or lust. But she obeyed, opening her thighs, shifting to ease the way as Astoria slipped Pansy's knickers off.
“See. I knew it.” Astoria's fingers smoothed their way between Pansy's legs. Pansy's breath cut off in a gasp as she felt Astoria press against her, felt two fingers slip into her cunt. Pansy clenched around Astoria's fingers, desperate. Astoria was breathing as hard as Pansy, her lips parted. Astoria's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she heard Pansy moan.
But they opened again, blue and sharp. “See, so hot for it you'll get fingered on the balcony. This is what I mean, Pansy.”
“Like you're any different,” Pansy breathed, fumbling to touch Astoria, wanting to taste her. Astoria slapped her hand away. Pansy glared. Astoria wanted it as much as she did, she just didn't want to give in.
Astoria pressed the heel of her hand against Pansy's clit, playing two long fingers inside her, and Pansy moaned breathlessly, her hips hitching against Astoria's hand. Astoria rewarded her, kept fucking her and stroking her. Pansy clutched Astoria close; Astoria lowered her head to Pansy's bared breasts, sucked and nibbled at the skin. Pansy bit down on a cry as she felt Astoria's teeth at her nipples, felt another finger inside her. Somewhere Pansy wondered if someone would come looking for them. She imagined Draco seeing this and had to fight back a laugh.
Astoria raised her head again, eyes dark. “You think you could've been his wife?” Pansy glared, but didn't stop pumping her hips, riding Astoria's fingers. She didn't know why the hell Astoria was still talking – unless Astoria just got off on this. “You're going to go back out there just-fucked and you think you could be a Malfoy wife? You're fit to be a Malfoy mistress.”
“And you'll spend the night thinking of nothing but coming,” Pansy spat back. She reached between Astoria's legs again. This time Pansy found the hand between her own legs had gone. She cried out indignantly at the loss. Astoria's hands wrapped round her wrists, keeping them down by her sides. Pansy was pinned, Astoria pressed against her. Pansy wriggled, feeling the silky material of Astoria's dress against her breasts, her belly, her inner thighs. Blood thumped through her; she needed to come.
Astoria pressed a thigh between Pansy's. Her raised eyebrow said it all: if Pansy wanted to come, she'd have to ride Astoria's thigh to the edge. Astoria's fingers were tight around Pansy's wrists, her eyes heavy-lidded above her high flush; Pansy was sure her nipples were hard inside that well-constructed silky bodice. Pansy felt her cunt clench at the evidence of Astoria's arousal. She gave in.
She rubbed herself shamelessly against Astoria, her thighs tightening round Astoria's, her rhythm fast and brutal. She couldn't keep her eyes open any more; she was mangling her lower lip between her teeth as the pleasure rose, shockwaves through her body. Pansy's breasts were bouncing as she moved. She could feel herself sweating, feel her hair falling out of its coiffure, but what did that matter when Astoria was giving her a steady rhythm and Astoria's scent was filling her head. Pansy groaned with every movement, her cries getting louder and more breathless as she moved.
“Maybe I'll give you a suite in the Manor once I'm married.” Astoria sounded breathless. “I'll do my duty then come and fuck you every night, show you off at events – ”
Pansy's cry echoed over the silent garden as she came.
When she came back to herself, her arms ached from how she'd pulled against Astoria, and her hair was everywhere, and she was aglow. Astoria was disentangling herself from Pansy and casting spells, tidying herself. Pansy gave her a smile lazy and slow as a panther. “Marvellous.”
Her voice was hoarse. Astoria smirked. “You're very lucky I charmed the curtains to keep sound out of the ballroom.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “All right, no need to gloat.”
Astoria patted her perfect hair and smoothed her perfect dress, and gave Pansy a smile. She was holding Pansy's knickers. “If you say so.”
Pansy hitched her dress up and fiddled the neckline into place. The very edge of one of Astoria's lovebites was still visible, but only that. She had her own wand for her hair. Pansy pushed her skirt down and glanced at Astoria. “Knickers please.”
Astoria Vanished them.
Pansy clenched her teeth until the urge to hex her had passed. “What was that?”
Astoria gave an elegant little shrug. “I wanted to.”
Pansy's fists clenched. But she knew Astoria wouldn't return her underwear, if she even could. She wouldn't further humiliate herself by shouting about it. So she turned back to the garden, and stood fixing her hair until she heard Astoria go back into the ballroom to rejoin the party.
Pansy was a little hoarse all night. Dowagers suggested various home cures, and Pansy smiled sweetly and nodded along, feeling the wetness between her thighs. She could think of nothing else; every time she caught Astoria's eye across the room, Pansy felt herself blush.
Never mind. Astoria had indisputably won this round. But Pansy could feel Astoria's eyes on her, drinking in the sight of Pansy still wet and praying no one would realise she was bare under her short dress. Astoria was enjoying her victory, but it must only be making her more desperate for orgasm herself.
Pansy could work with that.
Author:
lokifanWord count: ~1700
Characters/pairings: Astoria/Pansy (implied Astoria/Draco, Pansy/Draco)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: “You have your assets, darling. You have your appeal… I'd never deny that. You're a lot of fun to have around. But you lack the elegance required in a Malfoy wife. I mean, look at you. Trying to slap the bride-to-be, nipples hard right through that rather brief dress. And I know you're wet.”
Warnings: D/s, hatesex-ish
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for
hp_humpdrabbles’s Something Wicked This Way Comes kinkmeme, and the "teasing" square on my Kink Bingo card.Pansy stared down into the shadowy garden. Narcissa's roses were in full bloom beneath, filling the air with scent. She put her champagne flute down on the stone lip of the balcony with an irritable clink; throwing the glass off the balcony might help her vent, but without the satisfying little smash of glass hitting stone, what was the point?
“Enjoying the evening, Pansy?” At that sugary voice, Pansy's shoulders stiffened. She steeled herself then turned with a brilliant smile.
“I am, thank you, Astoria.”
“Good. You certainly seemed to be enjoying the champagne.” Astoria gave her light, hateful laugh.
“And you aren't,” Pansy said, holding her smile. If Astoria thought Pansy was going to lose the round played during Astoria and Draco's engagement party, she didn't know Pansy very well. “Little accident rushing the nuptials forward?”
“No,” Astoria said. She leant against the balcony by Pansy with a little grin. Her blonde hair was silvery in the moonlight. “Draco just decided he wanted to make it official.”
“Draco's never been known for making excellent decisions,” Pansy said dryly.
“Oh, darling,” said Astoria. “Surely you know it could never have been you? Not for marrying.” Her blue eyes were huge, and sympathetic, and Pansy wanted to scratch them out but she couldn't look away.
“Oh?” she said. Astoria was closer than ever, but Pansy forced ice into her tone.
“Well. To be Mrs Malfoy, you know. One needs certain things.”
Pansy snorted and plucked at Astoria's hair, running her fingers over a lock of it. “That's what hair potions are for.”
“Not that.” Pansy had been first to breach the barrier, to touch. Astoria's lips curled victoriously as she lifted a hand and ran the back of one finger over Pansy's chest, tracing the low neckline of her dress. “Class, darling. You lack it.”
“You little – ”
Astoria caught Pansy's wrist with her left hand, halting the slap before it hit. Her other hand stayed at Pansy's breasts, dipping a little. Astoria began to circle her thumb over Pansy's nipple through the silken material of her dress, teasing it hard. Pansy stayed frozen in Astoria's grip, feeling her breath begin to quicken. Astoria's pink smile had gone sly.
“See? You have your assets, darling. You have your appeal...” She squeezed Pansy's breast without looking away from her eyes. “I'd never deny that. You're a lot of fun to have around.” Astoria pinched Pansy's nipple. Pansy let a small sound escape, feeling the tingle of pleasure-pain right down to her cunt. “But you lack the elegance required in a Malfoy wife. I mean, look at you.” She let go of Pansy's breast to gesture. “Trying to slap the bride-to-be, nipples hard right through that rather brief dress. And I know you're wet.”
Pansy flushed. She was, of course; her cunt was tingling with arousal, almost aching from need. There were curtains hiding them from the rest of the party; they could charm them against someone coming looking, and surely –
But she wasn't surrendering that easily.
“So are you,” she said. She stroked a finger over Astoria's flushed cheek and watched Astoria's jaw tighten. “Just because your dress is longer – ”
“That's not the real problem,” said Astoria. Her voice was lower now, but still smooth. “Draco needs someone who can take control.” She pressed Pansy flat against the low balcony, and pulled down the straps of Pansy's dress. Pansy gasped as her breasts were exposed to the cool air and Astoria's clever fingers, her devouring blue eyes. Pansy's back arched; she pressed her bare breasts into Astoria's hands. “That's not you, is it?” Astoria murmured. Pansy lowered her lips to Astoria's neck, her shoulders. Astoria shivered, moaning a little, as Pansy kissed the sensitive skin.
Pansy sucked, just a little, at the pale skin of Astoria's neck. Then she felt Astoria's hand in her hair, pulling hard enough to send pain prickling over her scalp, forcing Pansy's head back. Astoria glared at her. “You think you can mark my neck now?”
Pansy smirked. “I think you like it.”
“Right.” Astoria bit off the word. She let go of Pansy's hair, but she didn't retreat; instead she pushed forward, forcing Pansy to sitting on the balcony, her thighs open round Astoria's hips. Pansy felt the air at her back; she stayed still as Astoria pushed Pansy's short, fluffy skirts up around her waist, exposing her. “Come on,” Astoria said, her voice thrumming with anger and arousal. “Spread your legs. Do it.”
Pansy's whole body went hot; her stomach was tight. She didn't know if it was anger or resentment or lust. But she obeyed, opening her thighs, shifting to ease the way as Astoria slipped Pansy's knickers off.
“See. I knew it.” Astoria's fingers smoothed their way between Pansy's legs. Pansy's breath cut off in a gasp as she felt Astoria press against her, felt two fingers slip into her cunt. Pansy clenched around Astoria's fingers, desperate. Astoria was breathing as hard as Pansy, her lips parted. Astoria's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she heard Pansy moan.
But they opened again, blue and sharp. “See, so hot for it you'll get fingered on the balcony. This is what I mean, Pansy.”
“Like you're any different,” Pansy breathed, fumbling to touch Astoria, wanting to taste her. Astoria slapped her hand away. Pansy glared. Astoria wanted it as much as she did, she just didn't want to give in.
Astoria pressed the heel of her hand against Pansy's clit, playing two long fingers inside her, and Pansy moaned breathlessly, her hips hitching against Astoria's hand. Astoria rewarded her, kept fucking her and stroking her. Pansy clutched Astoria close; Astoria lowered her head to Pansy's bared breasts, sucked and nibbled at the skin. Pansy bit down on a cry as she felt Astoria's teeth at her nipples, felt another finger inside her. Somewhere Pansy wondered if someone would come looking for them. She imagined Draco seeing this and had to fight back a laugh.
Astoria raised her head again, eyes dark. “You think you could've been his wife?” Pansy glared, but didn't stop pumping her hips, riding Astoria's fingers. She didn't know why the hell Astoria was still talking – unless Astoria just got off on this. “You're going to go back out there just-fucked and you think you could be a Malfoy wife? You're fit to be a Malfoy mistress.”
“And you'll spend the night thinking of nothing but coming,” Pansy spat back. She reached between Astoria's legs again. This time Pansy found the hand between her own legs had gone. She cried out indignantly at the loss. Astoria's hands wrapped round her wrists, keeping them down by her sides. Pansy was pinned, Astoria pressed against her. Pansy wriggled, feeling the silky material of Astoria's dress against her breasts, her belly, her inner thighs. Blood thumped through her; she needed to come.
Astoria pressed a thigh between Pansy's. Her raised eyebrow said it all: if Pansy wanted to come, she'd have to ride Astoria's thigh to the edge. Astoria's fingers were tight around Pansy's wrists, her eyes heavy-lidded above her high flush; Pansy was sure her nipples were hard inside that well-constructed silky bodice. Pansy felt her cunt clench at the evidence of Astoria's arousal. She gave in.
She rubbed herself shamelessly against Astoria, her thighs tightening round Astoria's, her rhythm fast and brutal. She couldn't keep her eyes open any more; she was mangling her lower lip between her teeth as the pleasure rose, shockwaves through her body. Pansy's breasts were bouncing as she moved. She could feel herself sweating, feel her hair falling out of its coiffure, but what did that matter when Astoria was giving her a steady rhythm and Astoria's scent was filling her head. Pansy groaned with every movement, her cries getting louder and more breathless as she moved.
“Maybe I'll give you a suite in the Manor once I'm married.” Astoria sounded breathless. “I'll do my duty then come and fuck you every night, show you off at events – ”
Pansy's cry echoed over the silent garden as she came.
When she came back to herself, her arms ached from how she'd pulled against Astoria, and her hair was everywhere, and she was aglow. Astoria was disentangling herself from Pansy and casting spells, tidying herself. Pansy gave her a smile lazy and slow as a panther. “Marvellous.”
Her voice was hoarse. Astoria smirked. “You're very lucky I charmed the curtains to keep sound out of the ballroom.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “All right, no need to gloat.”
Astoria patted her perfect hair and smoothed her perfect dress, and gave Pansy a smile. She was holding Pansy's knickers. “If you say so.”
Pansy hitched her dress up and fiddled the neckline into place. The very edge of one of Astoria's lovebites was still visible, but only that. She had her own wand for her hair. Pansy pushed her skirt down and glanced at Astoria. “Knickers please.”
Astoria Vanished them.
Pansy clenched her teeth until the urge to hex her had passed. “What was that?”
Astoria gave an elegant little shrug. “I wanted to.”
Pansy's fists clenched. But she knew Astoria wouldn't return her underwear, if she even could. She wouldn't further humiliate herself by shouting about it. So she turned back to the garden, and stood fixing her hair until she heard Astoria go back into the ballroom to rejoin the party.
Pansy was a little hoarse all night. Dowagers suggested various home cures, and Pansy smiled sweetly and nodded along, feeling the wetness between her thighs. She could think of nothing else; every time she caught Astoria's eye across the room, Pansy felt herself blush.
Never mind. Astoria had indisputably won this round. But Pansy could feel Astoria's eyes on her, drinking in the sight of Pansy still wet and praying no one would realise she was bare under her short dress. Astoria was enjoying her victory, but it must only be making her more desperate for orgasm herself.
Pansy could work with that.
