Leigh!fic | Lover, I Don't Have To Love (1/1) | Julian Vaisey/Pansy Parkinson
Title: Lover, I Don't Have To Love (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Julian Vaisey/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: R
Word Count: 500
Summary: Because when she looked over at the groom and saw her former flame there, about to marry one of her closest friends, she wanted to hex and curse the entire bridal party out of spite.
Author's Notes: Written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
The wedding was a beautiful spring affair. The flowers were in full bloom, the weather was perfect, and Astoria was the vision of perfection on her father's arm as he escorted her down the aisle to her soon-to-be husband. Pansy wanted to be happy for her friend-really, she deserved all the happiness in the world-but she just couldn't.
Because when she looked over at the groom and saw her former flame there, about to marry one of her closest friends, she wanted to hex and curse the entire bridal party out of spite.
It was no wonder she'd poured a drink the minute she'd woken up that morning.
Later, she would blame her loosened inhibitions on the alcohol. But really, she just wanted something to numb the pain of losing Lysander. After all his talk about her parents not approving, and how he didn't want to pursue her unless he was positive he could follow through, he'd gone and fallen in love with her. One of the few people Pansy considered a true friend, and she'd married the only man Pansy had ever loved.
Betrayed didn't even begin to cover how she felt.
It was for that reason alone that she had gotten herself into this situation. Julian Vaisey was handsome, but he was a bastard of unknown parentage and one of Lysander's friends. But he was nearly as hurt by the nuptials of their friends as she, for he'd been after Astoria for years before Lysander had wooed and won her.
The haze of alcohol made everything feel as if it were happening in a dream. His kiss, though, was as full of need and want as her own, and her sharp little nails raked against his neck as she returned his touches.
"I'm not her," she murmured against his lips.
He pulled back to look her in the eye, his green gaze dark. "I'm not Lysander," he retorted.
"Good." Any other words were silenced as she crashed her lips against his once more.
Inch by inch, skin was revealed as garments fell in a wrinkled pile to the floor. His hands were warm against her body, and her back arched into his touch when he took her nipple between his lips.
She was panting with want by the time he fit himself between her thighs, pressing slowly into her waiting heat. Her blue eyes flashed when he stilled, warning him from teasing her. She dug her nails into his back in retribution, raking angry red lines in their wake.
Julian gasped and thrust into her, filling her in one complete movement. Words and warnings weren't needed; all that was needed was heat and want and sex. Quickly, they settled into a rhythm, and it wasn't long before they both fell over the edge into the abyss of pleasure.
As Pansy slowly came down from her climax, she caught his eye, lips curling in a small, satisfied smirk. Despite her dislike of her bedmate, he was certainly talented at hate sex.
And she needed another round.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Julian Vaisey/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: R
Word Count: 500
Summary: Because when she looked over at the groom and saw her former flame there, about to marry one of her closest friends, she wanted to hex and curse the entire bridal party out of spite.
Author's Notes: Written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
The wedding was a beautiful spring affair. The flowers were in full bloom, the weather was perfect, and Astoria was the vision of perfection on her father's arm as he escorted her down the aisle to her soon-to-be husband. Pansy wanted to be happy for her friend-really, she deserved all the happiness in the world-but she just couldn't.
Because when she looked over at the groom and saw her former flame there, about to marry one of her closest friends, she wanted to hex and curse the entire bridal party out of spite.
It was no wonder she'd poured a drink the minute she'd woken up that morning.
Later, she would blame her loosened inhibitions on the alcohol. But really, she just wanted something to numb the pain of losing Lysander. After all his talk about her parents not approving, and how he didn't want to pursue her unless he was positive he could follow through, he'd gone and fallen in love with her. One of the few people Pansy considered a true friend, and she'd married the only man Pansy had ever loved.
Betrayed didn't even begin to cover how she felt.
It was for that reason alone that she had gotten herself into this situation. Julian Vaisey was handsome, but he was a bastard of unknown parentage and one of Lysander's friends. But he was nearly as hurt by the nuptials of their friends as she, for he'd been after Astoria for years before Lysander had wooed and won her.
The haze of alcohol made everything feel as if it were happening in a dream. His kiss, though, was as full of need and want as her own, and her sharp little nails raked against his neck as she returned his touches.
"I'm not her," she murmured against his lips.
He pulled back to look her in the eye, his green gaze dark. "I'm not Lysander," he retorted.
"Good." Any other words were silenced as she crashed her lips against his once more.
Inch by inch, skin was revealed as garments fell in a wrinkled pile to the floor. His hands were warm against her body, and her back arched into his touch when he took her nipple between his lips.
She was panting with want by the time he fit himself between her thighs, pressing slowly into her waiting heat. Her blue eyes flashed when he stilled, warning him from teasing her. She dug her nails into his back in retribution, raking angry red lines in their wake.
Julian gasped and thrust into her, filling her in one complete movement. Words and warnings weren't needed; all that was needed was heat and want and sex. Quickly, they settled into a rhythm, and it wasn't long before they both fell over the edge into the abyss of pleasure.
As Pansy slowly came down from her climax, she caught his eye, lips curling in a small, satisfied smirk. Despite her dislike of her bedmate, he was certainly talented at hate sex.
And she needed another round.