Drabble: Staying the Course
Dec. 27th, 2016 08:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Staying the Course
Author:alisanne
Pairing/Characters: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson.
Word Count: 100 x 8
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-community.gif)
neville100's prompt #346: Stay With Me, and adventdrabbles prompt #18: Ice Sculpture.
Warning(s)/Genre: Romance.
Beta(s):sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Staying the Course
~
Neville’s not sure what prompts him to go up and speak with Pansy Parkinson. Maybe it’s because she looks lonely, maybe it’s because he’s seen how even the other Slytherins avoid her, or maybe it’s because he’s always had a thing for damsels in distress. And she has spectacular legs.
“It’s melting,” he says.
Parkinson slants a look at him. “It is. Still, it’s very life-like.”
Neville eyes the ice replica of Hogwarts. “It is,” he agrees. “Do you know the artist?”
“Theo.”
“Nott?” Neville hums. “Impressive.”
Parkinson snorts. “I suppose.”
“Aren’t you two friends?”
Parkinson shrugs. “We’ll see.”
~
Neville frowns, turning towards her. “What does that mean?”
Parkinson studies him for a moment. “That means he’s probably going to be another person who won’t be speaking to me because their reputation can’t afford it.”
Neville blinks. “I’m speaking to you. Or don’t I count?”
“Oh, you do,” Parkinson says. “You’re a sodding war hero. Which makes me wonder why you’re speaking to me in front of a Hogwarts ice sculpture in full view of everyone.”
“What do you think?”
Parkinson purses her lips. Her red, red lips. “That you want something. Do you?”
Neville’s silence seems answer enough.
~
Neville sees the ice sculpture from his position behind the curtain. Parkinson doesn’t, but only because she’s on her knees, those lush, red lips wrapped around Neville’s cock.
“What are you doing?” he’d said as she’d dragged him away from the crowd.
She’d simply smirked and dropped to her knees. And, after his initial shock, Neville hadn't objected.
His hand settling in her hair, Neville bites his lower lip, stifling his moans. She’s really good at sucking cock, and the world falls away as Neville’s orgasm rushes through him.
“Thanks,” he whispers afterwards.
Parkinson shrugs, turning away. “I owed you.”
~
“Wait,” says Neville as she saunters away. “Stay with me.”
Parkinson halts. Neville sees vulnerability in her eyes. “It was just a blow job, Longbottom.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted from you.” Neville flushes when she smirks knowingly. “Well, not everything.”
Parkinson huffs. “We can’t do more here. It’s one thing to blow you steps from a party, but anything more requires…privacy.”
“I wasn’t—” Neville shakes his head. “How about dinner?”
Parkinson gapes. “With me?”
“Yes. Not anyplace with fancy ice sculptures, but maybe someplace…cosy?”
Parkinson finally nods. “All right.” She smiles. “When?”
Neville extends an arm. “Now?”
~
Parkinson’s funny and fascinating. Neville enjoys dinner, and he thinks she does, too.
“You don’t have to see me home,” she says as they exit.
“Yes I do.”
He sees the speculation in her eyes as she glances at him. He wants her, of course, she’s gorgeous, but he suspects it’s easier for her to sleep with someone than actually let them know her.
At her door, she turns to him. “That wasn’t bad, Longbottom. Even without an ice sculpture.”
Neville laughs. “Can I see you again? Dinner tomorrow?”
“How about breakfast?” she purrs.
Neville’s tempted. “Another time,” he says.
~
Dating Pansy gets Neville odd looks from his friends, but they soon thaw towards her. In public, people now greet her with smiles, speak with her. She blossoms under the attention.
They dine together several days a week, but they haven’t had sex since that first time behind the ice sculpture.
Neville knows Pansy’s puzzled, and he’s not sure what he’s waiting for either, but he needs a sign. Something to show she’s not doing it out of obligation.
One night she cooks him dinner at hers, plying him with wine. When she straddles him, Neville knows he’s in trouble.
~
“Pansy,” Neville groans. “You don’t have to—”
“I know,” she whispers agains his mouth. “I want to, Neville. I’ve wanted you for ages.”
“You’re sure?”
Pansy rolls her eyes. “You think I blew you behind that ice sculpture because I hated you?”
“No,” Neville’s hands slide up her thighs. “But I think you felt obligated.”
She shrugs. “Maybe I did then,” she admits. “But now I just want you. You’re driving me mad.”
“Am I?” Neville swallows as his finger probes the edge of her knickers.
“Mmhm.” Pansy smirks. “So don’t make me hex you.”
“Can’t have that,” agrees Neville.”
~
Pansy’s riding him, her cunt slick and wet and perfect. She’s gorgeous in the moonlight, her head throat back, breasts bouncing as she moves up and down his cock.
Neville’s transfixed by the sight of her. She’s ethereal, the silver light making her look like she stepped out of the Hogwarts’ ice sculpture.
She tightens her muscles, squeezing him, and Neville gasps. “You were distracted,” she says. “Stay with me.”
Neville hand settle on her hips. “I am,” he says, arching up. “Promise.”
She grins. “Good. Then let’s do this.”
Neville rolls her over, pinning her. “Yes,” he growls. “Let’s.”
~
Author:
alisannePairing/Characters: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson.
Word Count: 100 x 8
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for
neville100's prompt #346: Stay With Me, and adventdrabbles prompt #18: Ice Sculpture.Warning(s)/Genre: Romance.
Beta(s):
sevfan and emynn. Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Staying the Course
~
Neville’s not sure what prompts him to go up and speak with Pansy Parkinson. Maybe it’s because she looks lonely, maybe it’s because he’s seen how even the other Slytherins avoid her, or maybe it’s because he’s always had a thing for damsels in distress. And she has spectacular legs.
“It’s melting,” he says.
Parkinson slants a look at him. “It is. Still, it’s very life-like.”
Neville eyes the ice replica of Hogwarts. “It is,” he agrees. “Do you know the artist?”
“Theo.”
“Nott?” Neville hums. “Impressive.”
Parkinson snorts. “I suppose.”
“Aren’t you two friends?”
Parkinson shrugs. “We’ll see.”
~
Neville frowns, turning towards her. “What does that mean?”
Parkinson studies him for a moment. “That means he’s probably going to be another person who won’t be speaking to me because their reputation can’t afford it.”
Neville blinks. “I’m speaking to you. Or don’t I count?”
“Oh, you do,” Parkinson says. “You’re a sodding war hero. Which makes me wonder why you’re speaking to me in front of a Hogwarts ice sculpture in full view of everyone.”
“What do you think?”
Parkinson purses her lips. Her red, red lips. “That you want something. Do you?”
Neville’s silence seems answer enough.
~
Neville sees the ice sculpture from his position behind the curtain. Parkinson doesn’t, but only because she’s on her knees, those lush, red lips wrapped around Neville’s cock.
“What are you doing?” he’d said as she’d dragged him away from the crowd.
She’d simply smirked and dropped to her knees. And, after his initial shock, Neville hadn't objected.
His hand settling in her hair, Neville bites his lower lip, stifling his moans. She’s really good at sucking cock, and the world falls away as Neville’s orgasm rushes through him.
“Thanks,” he whispers afterwards.
Parkinson shrugs, turning away. “I owed you.”
~
“Wait,” says Neville as she saunters away. “Stay with me.”
Parkinson halts. Neville sees vulnerability in her eyes. “It was just a blow job, Longbottom.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted from you.” Neville flushes when she smirks knowingly. “Well, not everything.”
Parkinson huffs. “We can’t do more here. It’s one thing to blow you steps from a party, but anything more requires…privacy.”
“I wasn’t—” Neville shakes his head. “How about dinner?”
Parkinson gapes. “With me?”
“Yes. Not anyplace with fancy ice sculptures, but maybe someplace…cosy?”
Parkinson finally nods. “All right.” She smiles. “When?”
Neville extends an arm. “Now?”
~
Parkinson’s funny and fascinating. Neville enjoys dinner, and he thinks she does, too.
“You don’t have to see me home,” she says as they exit.
“Yes I do.”
He sees the speculation in her eyes as she glances at him. He wants her, of course, she’s gorgeous, but he suspects it’s easier for her to sleep with someone than actually let them know her.
At her door, she turns to him. “That wasn’t bad, Longbottom. Even without an ice sculpture.”
Neville laughs. “Can I see you again? Dinner tomorrow?”
“How about breakfast?” she purrs.
Neville’s tempted. “Another time,” he says.
~
Dating Pansy gets Neville odd looks from his friends, but they soon thaw towards her. In public, people now greet her with smiles, speak with her. She blossoms under the attention.
They dine together several days a week, but they haven’t had sex since that first time behind the ice sculpture.
Neville knows Pansy’s puzzled, and he’s not sure what he’s waiting for either, but he needs a sign. Something to show she’s not doing it out of obligation.
One night she cooks him dinner at hers, plying him with wine. When she straddles him, Neville knows he’s in trouble.
~
“Pansy,” Neville groans. “You don’t have to—”
“I know,” she whispers agains his mouth. “I want to, Neville. I’ve wanted you for ages.”
“You’re sure?”
Pansy rolls her eyes. “You think I blew you behind that ice sculpture because I hated you?”
“No,” Neville’s hands slide up her thighs. “But I think you felt obligated.”
She shrugs. “Maybe I did then,” she admits. “But now I just want you. You’re driving me mad.”
“Am I?” Neville swallows as his finger probes the edge of her knickers.
“Mmhm.” Pansy smirks. “So don’t make me hex you.”
“Can’t have that,” agrees Neville.”
~
Pansy’s riding him, her cunt slick and wet and perfect. She’s gorgeous in the moonlight, her head throat back, breasts bouncing as she moves up and down his cock.
Neville’s transfixed by the sight of her. She’s ethereal, the silver light making her look like she stepped out of the Hogwarts’ ice sculpture.
She tightens her muscles, squeezing him, and Neville gasps. “You were distracted,” she says. “Stay with me.”
Neville hand settle on her hips. “I am,” he says, arching up. “Promise.”
She grins. “Good. Then let’s do this.”
Neville rolls her over, pinning her. “Yes,” he growls. “Let’s.”
~
