Leigh!fic | Touch of Your Fingertips (1/1) | Theodore Nott/Lily Luna Potter
Title: Touch of Your Fingertips (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Pairing: Theodore Nott/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: R
Summary: Every girl has that one thing they just can't get enough of. For Lily, it's a man's hands.
Word Count: 782
Warnings: Infidelity, public sex, cross-generational pairing
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author’s Notes: This was written as a gift for nightfalltwen as part of the 2015 Humpathon at hp_humpdrabbles.
She loved his hands.
It was such an odd feature to focus on, but every girl had that one thing they just obsessed over. Dominique had a weakness for a finely chiseled arse. Molly went weak at the knees for a man with muscular forearms. Not that Rosie would admit it, but they all knew she couldn't get enough of the blokes with nice thighs. And Roxy... well, she liked them "young, dumb, and hung." (That was a direct quote).
Lily, though, knew. The hands were the most important thing.
He had such lovely hands. They were thin with long fingers, but there was a subtle strength to them. He wore a simple silver band on his left hand, engraved with Celtic knots. She loved that ring. He never took it off. (Of course, one wasn't supposed to take off a wedding band. What did it say about her that she didn't care?).
She'd first noticed his hands at Astoria Malfoy's birthday party. Rosie's on again/off again relationship with Scorpius Malfoy had been on at the time, and she'd nearly begged Lily to come with her. "His dad looks at me like I'm soap scum, Lils, and his friends aren't much better. Please?" Only the promise of top notch firewhiskey had gotten her to attend in the first place, though helping her cousin out was also somewhat gratifying.
In all honesty, the party was a bit boring. She'd heard so much about the famed Malfoy soirées; how the champagne flowed like water, the music and dancing lasted all night, and the conversation was elegant and witty.
The champagne had flowed. There was dancing and plenty of conversation. Most of it gossiping about who was wearing which designers, whose husband was shagging someone on the side, and the pros and cons of holiday in Majorca over Capri.
But the minute his fingers touched the ivory keys of the Malfoy's grand piano, Lily had been captivated. Time seemed to stand still as he played a few songs, dedicating one of his own composition to Mrs. Malfoy. Such beautiful music, lovingly coaxed from the instrument by his talented hands. That was when Lily knew.
One day, she was going to fuck Theodore Nott.
Her plan took time to come to fruition. There was groundwork to be laid; chance encounters at various social functions, 'accidentally' running into him in Diagon Alley. Not too many times as to seem obvious, of course, but enough that she saw a spark of attraction light in his eyes.
Some girls would have pressed harder, made him pursue her longer. Dominique would have had to be properly wooed before she'd have fallen into bed with a man, but Lily was pragmatic. He was married; unhappily so, but there was still a ring on his hand and a woman who carried his last name. She didn't need romance, and she certainly wasn't looking to be his next ex-wife.
It was only fitting that the first time he gave into her temptation, it was a year later at another Malfoy birthday gala. His wife was intoxicated -- obnoxiously so. When Lily had brushed past him, her hand barely touching his as she slipped out of the dining room, she hadn't needed to look back to see if he would follow. There was no 'if.' There was only 'when.'
The first time he made her climax, he used his hands.
Those long, lovely fingers inside of her, twisting to brush her swollen bundle of nerves. He played her body as deftly as he played his music, and she sang for him. It was deliciously erotic; pressing her against the corridor wall, he hadn't even bothered to move her someplace more private. His hands had pushed her dress up, her knickers to the side, and those fingers she'd dreamed about were inside of her as quickly as his lips were on hers.
He stroked her sex, pulling wetness from her body as his other hand idly palmed her breast. And when Lily came, she didn't bother to muffle her cries.
They didn't speak when it was over. After, he'd righted his trousers and fastened his belt, plucked her knickers off the floor and tucked them into his pocket. He'd kissed her slowly and walked away, leaving Lily flushed and leaning on the wall for support. She supposed she should have felt like a cheap whore, but she didn't. It would happen again, eventually. Some other function, another wall. Maybe a bed, one day.
Watching him saunter down the corridor, she smiled a slow, Cheshire cat smile. She didn't love Theodore Nott. Far from it.
But she loved those hands.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Pairing: Theodore Nott/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: R
Summary: Every girl has that one thing they just can't get enough of. For Lily, it's a man's hands.
Word Count: 782
Warnings: Infidelity, public sex, cross-generational pairing
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author’s Notes: This was written as a gift for nightfalltwen as part of the 2015 Humpathon at hp_humpdrabbles.
She loved his hands.
It was such an odd feature to focus on, but every girl had that one thing they just obsessed over. Dominique had a weakness for a finely chiseled arse. Molly went weak at the knees for a man with muscular forearms. Not that Rosie would admit it, but they all knew she couldn't get enough of the blokes with nice thighs. And Roxy... well, she liked them "young, dumb, and hung." (That was a direct quote).
Lily, though, knew. The hands were the most important thing.
He had such lovely hands. They were thin with long fingers, but there was a subtle strength to them. He wore a simple silver band on his left hand, engraved with Celtic knots. She loved that ring. He never took it off. (Of course, one wasn't supposed to take off a wedding band. What did it say about her that she didn't care?).
She'd first noticed his hands at Astoria Malfoy's birthday party. Rosie's on again/off again relationship with Scorpius Malfoy had been on at the time, and she'd nearly begged Lily to come with her. "His dad looks at me like I'm soap scum, Lils, and his friends aren't much better. Please?" Only the promise of top notch firewhiskey had gotten her to attend in the first place, though helping her cousin out was also somewhat gratifying.
In all honesty, the party was a bit boring. She'd heard so much about the famed Malfoy soirées; how the champagne flowed like water, the music and dancing lasted all night, and the conversation was elegant and witty.
The champagne had flowed. There was dancing and plenty of conversation. Most of it gossiping about who was wearing which designers, whose husband was shagging someone on the side, and the pros and cons of holiday in Majorca over Capri.
But the minute his fingers touched the ivory keys of the Malfoy's grand piano, Lily had been captivated. Time seemed to stand still as he played a few songs, dedicating one of his own composition to Mrs. Malfoy. Such beautiful music, lovingly coaxed from the instrument by his talented hands. That was when Lily knew.
One day, she was going to fuck Theodore Nott.
Her plan took time to come to fruition. There was groundwork to be laid; chance encounters at various social functions, 'accidentally' running into him in Diagon Alley. Not too many times as to seem obvious, of course, but enough that she saw a spark of attraction light in his eyes.
Some girls would have pressed harder, made him pursue her longer. Dominique would have had to be properly wooed before she'd have fallen into bed with a man, but Lily was pragmatic. He was married; unhappily so, but there was still a ring on his hand and a woman who carried his last name. She didn't need romance, and she certainly wasn't looking to be his next ex-wife.
It was only fitting that the first time he gave into her temptation, it was a year later at another Malfoy birthday gala. His wife was intoxicated -- obnoxiously so. When Lily had brushed past him, her hand barely touching his as she slipped out of the dining room, she hadn't needed to look back to see if he would follow. There was no 'if.' There was only 'when.'
The first time he made her climax, he used his hands.
Those long, lovely fingers inside of her, twisting to brush her swollen bundle of nerves. He played her body as deftly as he played his music, and she sang for him. It was deliciously erotic; pressing her against the corridor wall, he hadn't even bothered to move her someplace more private. His hands had pushed her dress up, her knickers to the side, and those fingers she'd dreamed about were inside of her as quickly as his lips were on hers.
He stroked her sex, pulling wetness from her body as his other hand idly palmed her breast. And when Lily came, she didn't bother to muffle her cries.
They didn't speak when it was over. After, he'd righted his trousers and fastened his belt, plucked her knickers off the floor and tucked them into his pocket. He'd kissed her slowly and walked away, leaving Lily flushed and leaning on the wall for support. She supposed she should have felt like a cheap whore, but she didn't. It would happen again, eventually. Some other function, another wall. Maybe a bed, one day.
Watching him saunter down the corridor, she smiled a slow, Cheshire cat smile. She didn't love Theodore Nott. Far from it.
But she loved those hands.