Title:
Author: blackorchids
Characters/Pairings: pansy parkinson / ginny weasley
Rating: nc-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: love, kissing, candles
Other Warnings/Content: established relationship, public sex, oral sex, vague-breathplay, open-ended
Word Count: ~1600
Summary/Description: A quick walk home after dinner takes an exciting turn.
Author's Notes: hi i'm new (i kind of got distracted with my alley sex so the candles are more alluded to, but they're all mentioned!)


It starts at dinner, Pansy’s dark eyes glittering in the candlelight, her expression giving nothing away despite the fact that her stilettoed foot had been slowly making its way up Ginny’s legs all evening. Pansy’s an expert at this, angles her foot until the sharpness of the heel scrapes gently —high on Ginny’s inner thigh, her legs splayed open under the table despite the tightness of her slacks.

The deep blue of Pansy’s dress is stunning against her pale skin and she lets the prongs of her fork press slightly into her lower lip enticingly and Ginny is almost disarmed, but she’s no slouch, and they’d been together a long time. Ginny shifts her shoulders in a well-practiced move, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and twisting just enough for Pansy to peek at the cleavage behind her tailored suit jacket—peek and notice, instantly, that Ginny isn’t wearing anything beneath the thing.

Pansy’s chin tilts up archly, displaying her lovely neck, and if she were anyone else, she’d be much more visibly surprised, but Ginny knows her well enough at this point to take her quirked lips as admiration.

They order dessert to go and tip the poor server quite generously, and, after Ginny helps Pansy into her evening coat, grazing fingers over shoulders and arms and hips with an expression that screams plausible deniability, Pansy allows herself to be tucked under Ginny’s arm, continuing with ease her more or less one-sided discussion of how exactly she should overhaul and take over the Daily Prophet as the pair of them stroll gaily down the dim cobblestoned road towards the apparation point.

“Who else better for the job?” Ginny teases and Pansy flushes prettily. “Demolish the opposition, babe.”

That makes her smirk, and she twists out from under Ginny’s arm to turn and grab a lapel of the jacket in each fist and tug Ginny closer. With her heels, she’s slightly taller, and Ginny’s quick on the uptake, skims her hands up Pansy’s sides and closes the distance between their mouths, kissing her once, twice, three times, before she stops counting and starts using her tongue.

Ginny’s back hits the stone wall of a building,both of them right at the mouth of an alley and hidden only by virtue of being in the blindspot of the two nearest streetlamps. If she opened her eyes, she’d be able to see the apparation point scarcely a metre to her left, but she’s much more interested in twisting to let Pansy get a hand inside her suit jacket and on her nipple, scraping against it unforgivingly with her well-manicured claws.

Pansy, for her part, tilts her head to the side and deigns to allow Ginny to slowly drag their mouths apart so that she can kiss across her high cheekbone, much too intimately for a quickie against the side of a building, and then make her way down her jawline, where she grazes her teeth against the tendon in her neck, making Pansy tense and let out a breathy little moan.

Ginny pushes off from the wall and turns, guiding Pansy to lean up against it, scoffing a little when the snob starts trying to make noises about the relative cleanliness of it. She shuts up pretty quickly, though, when Ginny drops to her knees right there in relative public. Anyone else would be pulling her back up, lecturing about being stupid verses being stupid, but Pansy just gets a hand in Ginny’s hair and uses her grip to leverage one leg over Ginny’s shoulder.

Ginny lets her hands drag up Pansy’s smooth thighs, looks up to wink, and then, amidst curses, ducks beneath Pansy’s skirt, smothering her laugh against her already-wet cunt. Pansy keeps cursing at that, and tightens her leg for good measure, sharp heel digging into Ginny’s back impatiently.

Ginny’s not the only one going au naturale, it seems, and it certainly makes things easier, so she snuffles around a few times until Pansy’s released her grip on her hair to smack her in the back of the head. Then, using two fingers to spread her girlfriend open, Ginny leans forward and gets her lips around Pansy’s clit without warning, sucking hard and scraping her teeth against it in two mean, rapidfire attacks. Pansy’s thigh quivers, and her voice is muffled above, and Ginny takes a breath before she braces herself and shifts Pansy’s weight so both of her legs are thrown over her shoulders and she’s propped up against the wall.

Three hard strokes of her tongue from asshole to clit has Pansy swearing again, and that’s when Ginny gets a little crazy with it, Pansy filling her senses so completely, fucks her brutally with her tongue, her nose dragging against her clit every third stroke or so, her mind a little fuzzy, drunk on champagne from dinner and a distinct lack of air and Pansy.

She can’t get enough of the taste of her, points her tongue so she can get deeper, curls it up so she doesn’t let any of Pansy’s juices go to waste. Pansy bears down on her, uses her grip on Ginny’s hair to angle her hips and push down hard enough that Ginny’s neck isn’t going to feel great in the morning, and none of it matters, because Pansy’s gasping through clenched teeth—“Weasley, if you don’t put your mouth on my clit, so help me—”

Ginny arches and twists until she can balance correctly, letting two fingers of one hand take over, fucking in and out of Pansy’s dripping cunt so that she can close her mouth over Pansy’s clit once more, swirling her tongue around it as inconsistently as she can, going fast and promising until she can feel the muscles in Pansy’s thighs start to tense before she lets up, suddenly dipping into a slower, more gentle pattern that has Pansy almost sobbing with it.

She speeds up again abruptly, using the flat of her tongue to make quick, short strokes across in time with her fingers curling up inside of Pansy, and, finally, when Pansy’s thighs start to tremble and tense, Ginny lets it happen, scrapping her teeth against her clit once more, Pansy going silent as she comes, tightening her legs around Ginny’s head until it’s near unbearable, pressing her pelvic bone into Ginny’s face as she rides out her orgasm.

It’s many long seconds later that Ginny finally ducks back out from under Pansy’s skirt, panting and red-faced as she looks up at her, chin covered in Pansy’s own slick, eyeing Pansy’s heaving breasts appreciatively, lips twisted triumphantly even as she stays kneeling on the hard street.

Slowly, Pansy catches her breath and carefully swings one leg back to the ground, making sure she’s balanced before she completely dismounts. Ginny, for her part, cracks her neck and uses her fingers to wipe off the most of her face, sucking them into her mouth casually, still grinning. She rises to her knees lithely, shrugs her shoulders a few times, grabs Pansy ‘round the waist and kisses her like they’re in a fruity novel, dipping her back a little and plundering her mouth like the classless pirate she is.

They stay in the alley, trading kisses back and forth until Pansy can no longer taste herself on Ginny’s tongue, the flavor having dwindled down to just pure spit, their long-forgotten dessert hanging in a bag from one of her wrists.

Suddenly, Ginny backs them up a few steps and, with both hands firmly on Pansy’s ass, she twists on her heel and apparates the pair of them back to her flat without warning. Pansy swears at her when they land in Ginny’s cramped sitting room, but she doesn’t step out of the circle of Ginny’s arms, presses in close when Ginny uses her grip on her ass to grind their hips together.

They keep kissing, shedding layers and leaving them behind in the hall as they pass through it, and Pansy uses her wand once, to light the candles in Ginny’s bedroom, before she flings it behind her carelessly. Ginny lets herself get pushed down onto the edge of the bed, kisses up the shoulder-strap of Pansy’s bra and up her neck, nibbles on her earlobe for a minute before arching up another inch and parting her lips to whisper.

“Let’s have that dessert now.”

“I swear to Merlin,” Pansy says, shoving Ginny hard enough that she ends up on her back, hair sprawled beneath her head like a ring of fire. “That better be a disgusting pick-up line and not an actual request for cake.”

Ginny shrugs apologetically, wrapping her arms around Pansy’s thighs and pressing her face against Pansy’s soft stomach, kissing it a few times to be sweet before she looks up with her fake-as-hell aren’t I endearing expression, big brown eyes as wide as saucers, bottom lip pouting out.

Blowing out a put-upon sigh of epic proportions, Pansy bends down and digs Ginny’s wand out from underneath her slip and Ginny’s smart shoes, using it to wordlessly summon their takeout box from the sitting room.

Ginny watches her with hooded eyes—though, Pansy reflects wryly, it’s hard to decipher if the look is for her naked body or the box of cake she’s holding—and Pansy flips open the box, digging a finger into the icing and popping it into her mouth, pursing her lips for show and shooting Ginny a calculating look.