lumos_maxima | open rp post #002

open rp post #002

THE OPEN "WE WERE GOING TO RP THAT, REMEMBER?" POST

SO, BASICALLY. If we have ever discussed plotting a PSL or doing a thread but haven't gotten around to doing it,
WELL, NOW WE CAN.

Either comment with a rundown of said plot we'd talked about, or post a starting thread to said plot.

ALSO OPEN TO ANYONE WHO JUST WANTS TO THROW THEIR MUSE AT SNAPE (or Remus, if you'd prefer Remus).
Just leave either a prompt, a thread suggestion, or a thread starter.

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"Removing evidence," he corrected her. He was not being kind, nor was he administering aftercare. He was going to stick with that belief, too.

The bruise gone, he moved the wand back up and dug it against the underside of her chin again, forcing her head back. He incanted the same charm, this time running the tip of the wand slowly down the bruise down one side of her neck. They faded as if they were being sucked into the wand. And he did the same on the other side of her neck.

"A pity to get rid of them, really," he said as the last of the bruise on her neck drained away. "They were quite a nice reminder that I finally got my hands around your neck and throttled you, like I've wanted to do for a long time."

Not that throttling her last night had led to shutting her up. The noises she'd made the night before. A memory of her seized up in orgasm underneath him and gasping wantonly, shamelessly, flashed through his mind. No, don't think about that, he scolded himself the moment heat began pooling into his groin.

"Pishposh," she waved her hand almost dismissively but reached up to push some stands of hair away from her face nonetheless; her hair was a mess, but it added some charm to her overall appearance. Even though he'd begun removing any marks of the previous night's affair from her skin she still looked the part.

His remark was met with a laugh, bubbling with excitement much unlike the hollow sound from only moments after he'd woken up. She tilted her head down, making it so she inched just a little closer, though not enough to close the considerably distance between the two - just enough to add emphasis.

"If that's how you've always envisioned it, then by all means you could have gotten your hands around my neck sooner, Severus."

Granted it was unfeasible as circumstances were, but she was teasing more than anything, as evidenced through the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips and the way she looked at him, almost as defying as the night before when she'd been all fingernails digging into his skin, pulling him closer, wanting more.

"I would've been happy to help you work through that desire."

Severus clenched his jaw slightly at Bellatrix's laugh and at the teasing, almost amused remark. And the look she was giving him: it was as if she was attempting to goad him.

"Would you now?" he replied, being careful to not appear too interested. He pulled his wand away from her neck and casually leaned back to place it back on the side table.

"Is that why you're in no hurry to leave?" he asked when he faced back to her. "Because you want me to strangle you?" Though he'd just removed evidence of having had his hands around her neck, he quickly dashed his hand up to snatch her throat; his thumb pressing into the underside of her chin and his fingers biting into the side of her jaw just below her ear.

"Until last night, I never pegged you for a masochist," he quietly observed, studying her eyes and her face. "Does Rodolphus know how much of a slattern for pain you are?"

Her mouth cracked into a grin, all teeth and a little twitch, a subtle indicator that she might just burst into laughter. It wasn't just her - it was him, too. She was teasing him, planting a seed of doubt, but never daring, not outright anyway; yet there he was, his hand pressed against her skin and - oh - she even tilted her head back for him, not looking away even once.

"Perhaps you should ask him." She answered, though her words were quickly followed by a soft (but no less facetious) oh. "Then again, maybe not."

She glanced at his hand, running her index and middle finger over his own, over the back of his palm and wrist, trailing serpentine lines over his skin. "in my defense," she began, her grin fading to something closer to a flirtatious pout. "You're the one who can't keep his hands off me."

Severus was a stark contrast to the glittering expression of slightly unhinged amusement on Bellatrix's face. Where she was grinning, all teeth and eyes that were sparkling with a sense of dare to them, he was stern, stony faced, observing her like a hawk might observe its prey.

His expression darkened at her comment about him not being able to keep his hands off her. She'd caught him out. He felt like his unspoken, if not repressed craving for human touch had been rudely exposed. Well. He couldn't have that. He tightened his grip around her throat for a moment, eyeing the pout she was giving him, then abruptly let her throat go with a brusque, almost uncaring shove.

"Don't think so highly of yourself," he dismissively retorted.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, drawing his knees up towards his chest. He draped one arm around his knees while pushing his hair away from his face with his other, before dropping that arm around his knees also. The bed sheet only covered his legs; the cool morning air hit his bare back, which was still lined with faint, haphazard scratch marks from the night before.

"Let's just pretend last night was a bad mistake and leave it at that. I think that'll be a lot simpler."

When she felt his grip tighten, there was a brief moment where concerned pushed its way into the back of her mind and she heavily pondered the possibility of pushing him away. But sooner than she could act, he'd let go and she reached up with her own hand to press against the skin of her throat, rubbing circles over where his fingers had set.

"Am I lying?" She rolled back onto her back, her head tilted back on her pillow, exposing her neck, her chest, all the way down to her waist where the fabric of the bedsheets had began to pool. "You're making a bigger deal out of this than it necessarily needs to be," she commented, closing her eyes. "We might as well obliviate one or the other to spare you the misery."

Severus glanced over his shoulder at Bellatrix. He shouldn't have. The sight of her laid back, wild and messy hair askew on the pillow, throat exposed, breasts bare and arched up, nipples swirled tight, was truly a sight to behold. It was not unlike how she looked last night, pinned underneath him. He could feel his resolve starting to break again.

"I'm not making a deal out of anything. I'm clarifying the easiest approach. We pretend this never happened, things will be much simpler, for both of us."

Even as he said this, though, his eyes never stopped taking in the sight of her, and Severus unclasped a hand from around his knees to snag the bedsheet draped across her. He snapped it back with a sharp yank of his wrist, throwing the sheet back and exposing the rest of her nakedness. In one swift motion, he reached for his wand again, pushed himself around onto his knees, and he stretched up to lean over her.

"But," he said, his voice quieter, lower, pressing his wand up against the underside of her chin again, "I ought to make sure you don't obliviate me. I wouldn't put it past you to try."

"Things will be simpler for you," Bellatrix corrected, cracking one eyelid open to look back at him. By the time she did so, she'd reached up with one hand to tug lightly at strands of her own hair, succeeding only in making it look messier than it already did. Now that the initial shock had died down, so to speak, she seemed to be quickly regaining her (over-)confidence. In a way it was all quite cleverly played: as long as she could convincingly assert him that she was hardly bothered by the situation (which was likely a difficult task, both given the state he'd first found her in moments earlier and the fact that it was, well, him), she could try and convince herself that this wouldn't come back to haunt her.

She'd only just closed her eyes again when the feeling of the bedsheet being yanked away startled her and she looked back at him, a bit wider-eyed than she'd intended--
-- and just like that, there it was; his wand again, threatening. As if she'd allow him as much.

"Now why would I do that?" There was a hint of mirth there, halfway through the question, accented on the why.

"I'd rather you were reminded of it," She was taunting him, it was clear not just from his tone but from her body language - the way she shifted under his gaze, purposefully slower, just to lift her head up to regard him better. She was taunting him because she could, because in her own way, she wanted to see him squirm. "Each and every time you look at me. When that's all you can ever dream of doing, should poor, dear Rodolphus suspect your intentions."

Terrible. She could be so.

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