WISHLISTS: Routines (Pansy/Rose)
Author: nearlyconscious
Recipient: hamimifk
Title: Routines
Pairing: Pansy/Rose
Request: "after-school activities with Professor Parkinson" ; D/s, roleplay and hints of BDSM, all between consenting adults
Rating: R
Word Count: ~720
Summary: Rose liked her routines.
Author's Note: Dearest hamimifk, my writing definitely needs some improving, but your prompts were so tempting I wanted to give it a try! I hope you enjoy this gift. Also, many thanks to sickle_girl for the cheerleading and beta-work; couldn't have done it without you <3
Rose Weasley looked up at the familiar, ordinary façade as she adjusted her pashmina around her neck. It was 8pm and the weather was getting chilly. Professor Parkinson’s place was not what one would expect. For one thing, she lived in a flat in Hogsmeade, which was unusual for a Hogwarts instructor -- but all things considered, it was a surprise for most people that Miss Parkinson ended up teaching at Hogwarts at all. The flat was just above a tea shop, and rather unnoticeable from the street with its small double-hung windows. It looked ordinary from the street, which was quite a stretch from all of the Parkinson estates, from what one could guess. Rose brushed her skirt and stepped up to the door. It was simple and bore no name, but a tiny silver bell hung on its side. Rose lightly tapped it with her wand, and the bell vibrated and gave a few sparks. A few seconds later, the door opened itself with a creak.
***
Rose entered the room taking small steps. She might have been an adult now, she still felt like the blushing pupil she’d been in the Potions classroom whenever she came here. Professor Parkinson was far too cautious to allow herself to fall for a student, but there wasn’t any rule about former students. Did they get off the age difference, the power dynamics, and the forbidden aspect of their relationship? Of course they did. But any feeling of guilt, if there had ever been any to begin with, had faded away and eventually disappeared a long time ago.
Rose made her way through the hall and stopped at the threshold of the living room, taking in the sight of Miss Parkinson standing, her back to Rose, pouring two glasses of red wine. Miss Parkinson was always so elegant, so poised. A tight, dark pencil skirt hug her hips, and her calves were delicate. She turned on her high heels and her piercing eyes scanned Rose. Her face was blank as she sipped wine and inspected from afar everything about Rose; messy red curls, dark green pashmina, black pleated skirt, simple flats.
‘Good evening, Miss Weasley.’
Rose bowed her head.
‘Good evening, Professor.’
‘You may take off your coat and pashmina, and set them aside.’
Rose silently obeyed.
‘Now come by the table.’
Miss Parkinson took another sip of red wine and sat on one of the two leather armchairs around the coffee table. Rose didn’t sit in the other armchair, though; she dropped to her knees where she was standing and slowly crawled towards the table.
‘Good girl.’ Miss Parkinson’s voice was low and appreciative. Rose flushed and her thighs clenched in anticipation. She sat on her heels next to Miss Parkinson’s legs, eyes on the floor.
‘Now, let’s get started.’
***
Rose liked a reassuring routine.
She liked her morning cup of tea, always the same, with milk and no sugar. She liked preparing her outfit for the next day before going to bed. She liked to schedule her chores: Saturday, cleaning the flat, Wednesday, buying the groceries.
Rose also liked sex to feel as reassuring and familiar. She liked to feel the tingle between her legs in anticipation as she walked her way to Miss Parkinson’s flat in Hogsmeade. She liked the feeling of a paddle on her arse. She liked the way Miss Parkinson always patted her hair when she praised her after an intense session, she liked the low voice of her former Professor in her ear when she said ‘Good girl’.
Of course, Rose never knew quite what Miss Parkinson had planned, but there were ground rules, things she knew wouldn’t change. Landmarks of sort. She absolutely trusted Miss Parkinson, and she knew the surprises she had in mind for them were nothing to hurt Rose. People might have thought some of what they did was brutal or even humiliating, but Rose reveled in it. She liked it all; she liked to submit, to be disciplined, she liked a little pain. She liked to feel so totally exposed, and to be admired and loved. When she knelt at Miss Parkinson’s feet, she knew she could expect all of that and more -- there was always more.
Recipient: hamimifk
Title: Routines
Pairing: Pansy/Rose
Request: "after-school activities with Professor Parkinson" ; D/s, roleplay and hints of BDSM, all between consenting adults
Rating: R
Word Count: ~720
Summary: Rose liked her routines.
Author's Note: Dearest hamimifk, my writing definitely needs some improving, but your prompts were so tempting I wanted to give it a try! I hope you enjoy this gift. Also, many thanks to sickle_girl for the cheerleading and beta-work; couldn't have done it without you <3
Rose Weasley looked up at the familiar, ordinary façade as she adjusted her pashmina around her neck. It was 8pm and the weather was getting chilly. Professor Parkinson’s place was not what one would expect. For one thing, she lived in a flat in Hogsmeade, which was unusual for a Hogwarts instructor -- but all things considered, it was a surprise for most people that Miss Parkinson ended up teaching at Hogwarts at all. The flat was just above a tea shop, and rather unnoticeable from the street with its small double-hung windows. It looked ordinary from the street, which was quite a stretch from all of the Parkinson estates, from what one could guess. Rose brushed her skirt and stepped up to the door. It was simple and bore no name, but a tiny silver bell hung on its side. Rose lightly tapped it with her wand, and the bell vibrated and gave a few sparks. A few seconds later, the door opened itself with a creak.
***
Rose entered the room taking small steps. She might have been an adult now, she still felt like the blushing pupil she’d been in the Potions classroom whenever she came here. Professor Parkinson was far too cautious to allow herself to fall for a student, but there wasn’t any rule about former students. Did they get off the age difference, the power dynamics, and the forbidden aspect of their relationship? Of course they did. But any feeling of guilt, if there had ever been any to begin with, had faded away and eventually disappeared a long time ago.
Rose made her way through the hall and stopped at the threshold of the living room, taking in the sight of Miss Parkinson standing, her back to Rose, pouring two glasses of red wine. Miss Parkinson was always so elegant, so poised. A tight, dark pencil skirt hug her hips, and her calves were delicate. She turned on her high heels and her piercing eyes scanned Rose. Her face was blank as she sipped wine and inspected from afar everything about Rose; messy red curls, dark green pashmina, black pleated skirt, simple flats.
‘Good evening, Miss Weasley.’
Rose bowed her head.
‘Good evening, Professor.’
‘You may take off your coat and pashmina, and set them aside.’
Rose silently obeyed.
‘Now come by the table.’
Miss Parkinson took another sip of red wine and sat on one of the two leather armchairs around the coffee table. Rose didn’t sit in the other armchair, though; she dropped to her knees where she was standing and slowly crawled towards the table.
‘Good girl.’ Miss Parkinson’s voice was low and appreciative. Rose flushed and her thighs clenched in anticipation. She sat on her heels next to Miss Parkinson’s legs, eyes on the floor.
‘Now, let’s get started.’
***
Rose liked a reassuring routine.
She liked her morning cup of tea, always the same, with milk and no sugar. She liked preparing her outfit for the next day before going to bed. She liked to schedule her chores: Saturday, cleaning the flat, Wednesday, buying the groceries.
Rose also liked sex to feel as reassuring and familiar. She liked to feel the tingle between her legs in anticipation as she walked her way to Miss Parkinson’s flat in Hogsmeade. She liked the feeling of a paddle on her arse. She liked the way Miss Parkinson always patted her hair when she praised her after an intense session, she liked the low voice of her former Professor in her ear when she said ‘Good girl’.
Of course, Rose never knew quite what Miss Parkinson had planned, but there were ground rules, things she knew wouldn’t change. Landmarks of sort. She absolutely trusted Miss Parkinson, and she knew the surprises she had in mind for them were nothing to hurt Rose. People might have thought some of what they did was brutal or even humiliating, but Rose reveled in it. She liked it all; she liked to submit, to be disciplined, she liked a little pain. She liked to feel so totally exposed, and to be admired and loved. When she knelt at Miss Parkinson’s feet, she knew she could expect all of that and more -- there was always more.