Leigh!fic- Bloodstream (1/1)- Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Title: Bloodstream (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: None of his friends could possibly understand what drew him to her, like a moth to the flame.
Author's Notes: Written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles. The prompt used was Bloodstream by Stateless.
In the sleepy morning light, Neville sat perched on the edge of the bed, gazing down on the sleeping figure. Asleep, she was peaceful- ethereal, even; her pale skin stood out in stark contrast to her long black hair, spread out over his pillow. Black lashes swept over her porcelain cheek as her chest rose evenly, up and down, in slumber.
Neville had to grin. Pansy would be most annoyed if she knew she tended to snore softly.
I think I might've inhaled you
He knew they didn't understand. His friends couldn’t possibly understand. How could he, the son of Aurors, hero of the Battle of Hogwarts, have anything to do with Pansy Parkinson? She'd been so quick to give Harry up to Voldemort, was the daughter of a Death Eater. For Merlin's sake, she'd been sent to Azkaban after the war.
But they didn't know what he did, what he'd known since Hogwarts. Because even when he'd been on the lam from the Carrows, hiding in the Room of Requirement and snogging Hannah Abbot when the lights had been turned off, he hadn't been able to forget the feeling of Pansy's body against his.
I can feel you behind my eyes
Reaching out, he gently traced his finger down her shoulder and to her bare collarbone. There was a small trio of freckles there, all in a row. Neville liked to trace the line with his tongue before continuing south towards much more… pleasurable destinations. Her pink-tipped breasts, for once, were of particular fascination to him; they made her so responsive to his touch.
A forbidden school romance, separation by way of prison- it sounded like something out of one of those Priscilla Penwright novels. Had their story been a bodice ripper, she would have written Neville waiting at the Ministry, a dozen red roses in hand, waiting for his nearly-lost love to return from exile. She would see him and time would stand still before she'd take a few steps towards him, each consecutive step quicker than the last until she was running into his arms.
Then- in their story- he would take her home and make love to her until they were too exhausted to move.
You've gotten into my bloodstream
In reality, that had been far from what had happened. But that didn't matter, at least not to Neville. It was all water under the bridge. Pansy hadn't deserved to go to prison for her father's crimes, and Neville hadn't deserved the second chance they'd been given. What once had separated them- family, loyalties, Order versus Death Eaters- no longer held sway.
They were free.
Free to just be together, like they never had before. It thrilled Neville to have her on his arm; proof to the world that she was his. It was still hard to believe sometimes, even when he fell asleep with her in his arms, back still tingling from where she'd scratched it to pieces in pleasure. And when she said his name, whether moaned in pleasure or whispered in the dark, he knew that he was never going to let her go again.
I can feel you flowing in me
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: None of his friends could possibly understand what drew him to her, like a moth to the flame.
Author's Notes: Written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles. The prompt used was Bloodstream by Stateless.
In the sleepy morning light, Neville sat perched on the edge of the bed, gazing down on the sleeping figure. Asleep, she was peaceful- ethereal, even; her pale skin stood out in stark contrast to her long black hair, spread out over his pillow. Black lashes swept over her porcelain cheek as her chest rose evenly, up and down, in slumber.
Neville had to grin. Pansy would be most annoyed if she knew she tended to snore softly.
I think I might've inhaled you
He knew they didn't understand. His friends couldn’t possibly understand. How could he, the son of Aurors, hero of the Battle of Hogwarts, have anything to do with Pansy Parkinson? She'd been so quick to give Harry up to Voldemort, was the daughter of a Death Eater. For Merlin's sake, she'd been sent to Azkaban after the war.
But they didn't know what he did, what he'd known since Hogwarts. Because even when he'd been on the lam from the Carrows, hiding in the Room of Requirement and snogging Hannah Abbot when the lights had been turned off, he hadn't been able to forget the feeling of Pansy's body against his.
I can feel you behind my eyes
Reaching out, he gently traced his finger down her shoulder and to her bare collarbone. There was a small trio of freckles there, all in a row. Neville liked to trace the line with his tongue before continuing south towards much more… pleasurable destinations. Her pink-tipped breasts, for once, were of particular fascination to him; they made her so responsive to his touch.
A forbidden school romance, separation by way of prison- it sounded like something out of one of those Priscilla Penwright novels. Had their story been a bodice ripper, she would have written Neville waiting at the Ministry, a dozen red roses in hand, waiting for his nearly-lost love to return from exile. She would see him and time would stand still before she'd take a few steps towards him, each consecutive step quicker than the last until she was running into his arms.
Then- in their story- he would take her home and make love to her until they were too exhausted to move.
You've gotten into my bloodstream
In reality, that had been far from what had happened. But that didn't matter, at least not to Neville. It was all water under the bridge. Pansy hadn't deserved to go to prison for her father's crimes, and Neville hadn't deserved the second chance they'd been given. What once had separated them- family, loyalties, Order versus Death Eaters- no longer held sway.
They were free.
Free to just be together, like they never had before. It thrilled Neville to have her on his arm; proof to the world that she was his. It was still hard to believe sometimes, even when he fell asleep with her in his arms, back still tingling from where she'd scratched it to pieces in pleasure. And when she said his name, whether moaned in pleasure or whispered in the dark, he knew that he was never going to let her go again.
I can feel you flowing in me