Leigh!fic | A Schoolboy's Dream (1/1) | Seamus Finnigan/Pansy Parkinson
Title: A Schoolboy's Dream (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Seamus Finnigan/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 260
Summary: There were a lot of things Seamus didn't remember.
Author's Notes: This was written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
Seamus didn’t remember a lot of things.
He didn’t remember stepping on Lavender’s toes at the Yule Ball, though she claimed he had numerous times. He didn’t remember blowing up the Charms classroom during their sixth year, and he certainly didn’t remember Pansy Parkinson filling out her school uniform the way she did now.
But with her pale thighs squeezed around him, and her plaid skirt bunched up around his waist, it was hard to remember his own name. He didn’t remember ever seeing her breasts push against her Oxford shirt the way they did now, nor did he remember the enticing glimpses of black silk through white cotton.
He didn’t remember what had led them to this scenario, intertwined in a broom cupboard off the Great Hall. They were supposed to be at a charity banquet to benefit the rebuilding of Hogwarts, but his every noble intention of attending had flown out the door when she’d wrapped her dainty hand around his tie and yanked him into the closet.
Pretty pink lips nibbled on his ear, sounding a low moan when he hitched her higher against him, changing the angle of his thrusts. His name fell from her lips like an oath, half prayer and half plea when he brushed his thumb against her swollen nub. His Pansy was a walking wet dream, a schoolboy’s fantasy with a siren’s curves and the sex drive of a nymphette.
He didn’t remember that from school, either. But he was sure as hell learning.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Seamus Finnigan/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 260
Summary: There were a lot of things Seamus didn't remember.
Author's Notes: This was written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
Seamus didn’t remember a lot of things.
He didn’t remember stepping on Lavender’s toes at the Yule Ball, though she claimed he had numerous times. He didn’t remember blowing up the Charms classroom during their sixth year, and he certainly didn’t remember Pansy Parkinson filling out her school uniform the way she did now.
But with her pale thighs squeezed around him, and her plaid skirt bunched up around his waist, it was hard to remember his own name. He didn’t remember ever seeing her breasts push against her Oxford shirt the way they did now, nor did he remember the enticing glimpses of black silk through white cotton.
He didn’t remember what had led them to this scenario, intertwined in a broom cupboard off the Great Hall. They were supposed to be at a charity banquet to benefit the rebuilding of Hogwarts, but his every noble intention of attending had flown out the door when she’d wrapped her dainty hand around his tie and yanked him into the closet.
Pretty pink lips nibbled on his ear, sounding a low moan when he hitched her higher against him, changing the angle of his thrusts. His name fell from her lips like an oath, half prayer and half plea when he brushed his thumb against her swollen nub. His Pansy was a walking wet dream, a schoolboy’s fantasy with a siren’s curves and the sex drive of a nymphette.
He didn’t remember that from school, either. But he was sure as hell learning.