Collected Drabbles.

[lightofdaye]

And here are the drabbles I wrote for hp_humpdrabbles’ humpathon. In order. These were all fun pairings to write in new mostly new pairings for me. Rather than filling up everyone's f-list. I'm collecting them in this single post.


Daphne/Padma | In The Library... | R | 500 words

“Fancy meeting you here,” drawled Daphne Greengrass, “a real surprise.”

Padma did not look up from her book and carefully turned a page before answering.

“I’ve got work to do Greengrass, where else would I be?”

“Oh well, we hear rumours you know. All those private bookcases you ‘claws have locked away in your tower.”

“Have you ever tried to study in a common room?” Padma sniffed derisively.

“Not in mine. But then Slytherins are a more lively lot, aren’t they? I’d always thought you common room was kept in exams conditions.”

“You thought wrong.” Padma said simply. “What do you want Daphne?”

“Well that’s the hundred Galleon question, isn’t?” Daphne said, perching herself on the desk next to Padma and she finally couldn’t help but look up. The way she sat had let her skirt ride up an inch and the girl had crossed her arms under her breasts emphasising, perhaps unintentionally, her bust. Straight blonde hair fell to the Slytherin’s chin, framing her sharp jaw and sea-green eyes which were alight with amusement.

“No really,” Padma said, “If you tell me what you want, I can deal with you.”

“When you put it that way, will you help me find a book?”

Padma rolled her eyes and followed.

“It’s down here I think.” Daphne said leading her way down the aisle. Padma followed until they were both at the end of a dark row, far from the Library’s entrance.

“Now what were you looking for?”

“Oh… just this.” Daphne said and pounced. Her glossy red lips pressing down on Padma’s. Padma groaned and leant into the kiss, she even found her eyelids fluttering in delight. Then she seized the slytherin’s girls blouse and pushed Daphne away from her.

Daphne was a couple of inches taller than Padma and wide across the shoulders as well, giving her those lovely curves but Padma had no problems pushing her back until she practically pinned against the narrow end of the bookcase.

“Surprise?” Daphne said. Padma just smirked.

“Hardly,” Padma whispered her lips hovering over Daphne’s, “I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” Her hand traced the blonde girl’s curves down the hem of her skirt. “Me sitting her, all alone. You just had to come take a look didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Daphne breathed. Her voice became high pitched as Padma’s fingertips moved up the inside of her leg.

“It’s like,” Padma’s touch pressed against damp cloth, “I’ve got you wrapped round my fingers.”

“Not quite,” Daphne said, in what was obviously supposed to be a defiant tone.

Padma pushed the knickers aside, soft curls of hair brushing her fingers and then her fingers pushed home.

Daphne let out a small shriek, her hips jerked and Padma felt a wetness dribble across her fingers. Padma’s lip curled in a satisfaction as she pumped her fingers into the Slytherin’s cunt.

“Shhh.” She whispered, not slowing her working fingers. “Shhh, sweetie, you have to be quiet. It’s a library remember?


Ron/Hermione, Harry | Stockings, Voyeurism | NC-17 | 549 Words

Harry Potter walked into his flat after a long day in Auror training, to be greeted by the sounds of his best friends having sex.

Again.

He slammed the front-door irritably and above all loudly, but that didn’t stop the noises; the soft groans and high pitched squeals and the overpowering, rhythmic sound of straining bedsprings. Harry wasn’t unreasonable, he thought. He was actually happy his friends were together and even that they wanted to shag like bunnies, despite his own current lack of sex life.

But right now, he thought it was not outrageous to expect some peace and quiet and to be able to get some rest. Still fuming, he shouldered his way into his room.

In front of him, Ron and Hermione lay entwined on a bed. They were nearly entirely naked, incredibly sweaty and fucking away completely obvious to him. Harry’s jaw dropped, his face flushed red with instant embarrassment and he wondered how he could have managed to walk into the wrong bedroom.

But no, underneath the remnants of his friend’s torn off clothes was his carpet, and the sheets twisting and crumbling under his friend’s body were the ones that Mr and Mrs Weasley had given him as a house warming present. They were shagging in his bed. He opened his mouth to shout at them when…

“Ugh, Oh God!” Hermione shrieked, “Oh Ron!”

The tone of her voice shut Harry up. It was a wild and passionate and filled with uncontrollable need, Harry hadn’t never heard Hermione sounding like that. Hell he’d never heard a girl sound like that before now.

And he couldn’t even see Hermione. Most of what he could see was Ron’s broad, naked back and the freckles splattered all down the length of his body. All he could see of Hermione was a bushy brown halo around Ron’s fiery red head and her legs. And those legs. They were wrapped around Ron’s waist, breaking up the stretch of flushed skin with pure whiteness of the silk stockings that clung to Hermione’s legs like a second skin. They stood out almost luminously against Ron’s body. Harry suddenly had an idea what had caused his friend’s complete ardency. There was something terrible alluring about those stockings. Their very whiteness suggested an innocence that was at complete odds with their current debauchery.

Hermione’s white heels dug into Ron’s back and arse, urging him onwards as he rolled his hips burying himself inside her, Harry’s bedsprings crashing again with the energy, drowning out the wet sounds of their joining. The stocking-clad legs shook and trembled as they pulled Ron home again and again. Words failed Hermione as she wailed in climax.

Harry wasn’t angry anymore. All the heat and emotion in his face had abandoned him as the blood all shot lower down. His mouth was dry, his hands shook slightly and wordlessly he fled the room, knowing the pair hadn’t realised he was there.

He flung himself down on the sofa, curled up to fit and buried his head in a cushion, ignoring his aching erection in a desperate attempt to just get some sleep. It was a futile attempt, accompanied as it was by the cries of Ron and Hermione as they strove for Hermione’s second orgasm of the night.



Bill/Tonks | Patience | NC-17 | 594 Words

“Dammit, Weasley! Get on with it,” Tonks said almost growling in frustration. She and Bill lay lounging lengthways across her sofa, with Tonks’ back resting on Bill’s chest. His arms wrapped around her body and his head nuzzling at neck and ear. Like he had been doing for most of the last hour.

“Patience, dear, patience,” said Bill not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“Screw patience! Screw me!” Tonks gasped. Squirming and wriggling her arse as much as she could against Bill’s cock. It wasn't like he wasn't excited by this, his erection had been pushing against her for a good half hour but still he just touched and fondled and hadn't even tried to take her clothes off yet.

“And I thought women always wanted men to take their time. More foreplay, you know?” Bill whispered to her earlobe.

“There are limits, Bill.”

“Oh well, have it your way then.” He said, and his hands moved down her body, his long fingers tracing her waistline before dipping under the hem of her lurid pink t-shirt. Tonks’ body jerked in response as his fingertips brushed against bare skin.

This is ridiculous, he’s barely touched me. Tonks thought but she couldn't suppress the short panting gasps that escaped her, as Bill’s hands moved upwards, pushing the t-shirt further and further up her body, at the rate of about a centimetre every year. His warm hands skimming along newly revealed flesh.

She hadn't worn a bra when she’d dressed for her date with Bill, in full expectation they’d get down to things faster than a glacier would. So when his hands at last reached them, there was nothing between her tits and his hands. Tonks felt, more than heard Bill’s groan as he cupped them. They filled his grip perfectly. Then Bill squeezed.

The sound that escaped he was, soft and feminine and would have caught her no-end of ridicule from any co-worker that heard it, it was almost as embarrassing as the fact she could feel her knickers suddenly become much wetter. Her head fell back to rest on Bill’s shoulder.

“So, are you becoming to appreciate patience?” She could just see the edge of Bill’s grin out of the corner of her eye.

He continued playing with her tits, hefting them and squeezing them and rolling them in his grip, all the while purposely avoiding her achingly hard nipples.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? Well I’ll just have to try hard to teach you then. Your tits are fantastic you know? I could play with them for hours.”

Tonks snapped.

“Hours?!” She growled, and struggled in his grip, twisting and turning to get her hands on the infuriating man. Bill struggled to keep her still, chuckling at her all the while until she managed to twist far enough to slam her mouth over his. That shut him up. Her heart pounded with the exertion as the grappled, their actions at last hurried and frantic: half wrestling match and half foreplay.

Tonks didn't know how he’d done it, but somehow they were naked and Bill had her on her back on the sofa, with her hands pinned to the armrest, her legs spread as wide as they would go as he slowly filled her with his cock. Even then his pace was slow and measured and patient, even as she begged him to go faster, he held her just on the edge of her climax.

If she’d been able to think after her orgasms though even Tonks would have admitted patience was worth it in the end.


Harry/Lavender | She falls for Everyone | PG-13/R | 238 Words

“I love you,” Lavender Brown said in his ear, after he’d rolled off her and she’d laid her head on his shoulder and threw an arm over his chest.

He’s heard her said the words before of course. She’s said them before, many times in fact. She’d said them to her ‘Won-Won’ in sixth year constantly, right up until the moment Ron had managed to dump her. She’d said it to Parvati Patil when Parvati was sitting by her bedside in St Mungo’s. She said it to Seamus Finnegan the moment he’d asked her out and she’d even said it Blaise Zabini, two months after that.

And now she’s said it to him, as they lay naked together in bed. He should have been suspicious of it. He should been wary of how easily those words slipped from her lips.

He wasn’t though. Perhaps it was because he could still taste those lips on his. Perhaps because he could remember the feeling of her magnificent chest pressed against his own, and could remember their mingled, breathless, moans of delight as they were entwined.

But mainly it was because for all the many times he had heard Lavender said ‘I love you’, no matter who she said it too, she always sounds complete sincere.

Lavender Brown was just a very loving person. And in the end result all Harry James Potter had ever really wanted was to be loved.


Neville/Ginny | Seventh Year (While Harry was away) | R | 637 Words | Beta: tamlane

The first time they used the Cruciatus curse on Neville, he practically had to crawl back to the Gryffindor common room. He was pale as a sheet and his hands couldn’t stop shaking. It wasn’t just the aftereffects of the curse; he now knew exactly what had happened to his parents.

When he got back to the common room, Ginny Weasley took one look at him and pulled him into a hug. Her arms held him tight, her warm body pressed unreservedly against him. Neville hugged her back, his headed bowing down towards hers. For the first time, Neville realised he was a good person. He’d refused to curse an innocent first year at the expense of taking it himself. And here is your reward, a tiny voice in his head remarked as he clung to Ginny.

-

They didn’t just use curses on him though. No, the Carrows liked to think they were creative, and Neville was soon coming back to the dormitories with handkerchiefs pressed hard against the slashes in his face.

The second time it happened, Ginny was waiting up with Murtlap Essence and a disapproving frown on her face. She shoved him into one of the common room’s armchairs, and Neville’s heart gave a traitorous little flutter as she put her hand flat to his chest.

“Neville, how do you end up like this?” she said softly. “The rest of us stand up to them without getting ourselves shredded.”

“They don’t ask you to curse first years. Harry wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re not Harry.” Ginny’s hands shook slightly as she started to dab Murtlap on his cuts.

“That doesn’t change what’s right,” Neville said mulishly.

“I know,” Ginny said quietly. “I just don’t like to see you hurt, that’s all.”

And she kissed him on the forehead. It was possible he wasn’t so good after all, Neville thought, as he tilted his head back. The next kiss fell on his nose and the one after that on his lips.

-

When he had to flee to the Room of Requirement, she followed him. He’d barely been there five minutes before she burst in with a worried expression on her face. The tension went out of her when she saw him.

“You weren’t in the dormitories,” she said accusingly.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, “I’m okay.”

Reassuring hugs came as second nature to them now, and even the occasional kisses were not surprising. But the sudden intensity of Ginny’s kiss took Neville’s breath away, one hand clamped firmly on the back of his head as her tongue darted into his mouth. Neville’s body surged forward into her embrace almost involuntarily, his crotch bumping awkwardly against Ginny’s hip.

When they’d kissed before, they’d always stopped before going too far. But tongue was too far. Their hands tugging on each other’s clothing was too far. Tumbling half-naked into the room’s hammock was far too far.

And Neville was definitely not a good person because it was only when Ginny was underneath him, guiding him towards her entrance, that he thought to ask:

“What about Harry?”

He’d dumped her, but everyone knew that wasn’t for real. A haunted look flashed over Ginny’s face before she answered.

“Oh Neville, do you really think Harry’s coming back?”

And then he couldn’t resist anymore; he thrust forward slowly, into her. Her fingers grasped at his bum, his entwined in bright red hair, his gaze locked on her deep brown eyes as they squirmed and thrust and ground against each other in the slowly rocking hammock. Neville was too excited to last long before he came, but then so was Ginny.

Three days later it was the Easter holidays and Ginny had gone into hiding. And the next time Neville saw her, she was back in Harry’s arms and he was none the wiser.


Harry/Gabrielle | All Grown Up | NC-17 | 560 Words | Beta: tamlane


Gabrielle Delacour somehow managed to look sweet and innocent even when she was down on her knees for him. But her small hands moved confidently to his waistline, undoing his button and pulling down his zipper before they fearlessly reached inside.

Harry didn’t know quite how it happened. The last time he had seen her, she was a bride’s maid at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. One second later he turned around, and she was newly seventeen and inviting him back to her hotel suite after a Weasley family reunion. People had no business growing up when he wasn’t looking, Harry thought.

Then her lips wrapped around his cock and Harry stopped thinking about anything but that. They created a soft seal around his head and her tongue licked across it, tentatively at first but then swirling over it with greater confidence. To Harry’s pleasure-addled brain, the noise Gabrielle made was contemplative, as if approving of a new delicacy she was trying. He just groaned hoarsely, and his hand moved towards her head. She had Veela’s hair, long and silvery-gold and so utterly smooth that Harry’s hands could find no purchase in it. He just combed his fingers through it as Gabrielle looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and full of wonder as her head slowly descended to take more of his shaft into her mouth. When she came up for air, Harry was completely hard and Gabrielle’s expression was one of flushed pride.

“Zat was good, ‘arry?” she murmured.

“Amazing,” he said hoarsely.

“Shall we go to zee bed then?” Gabrielle said, taking his hand in hers. It trembled ever so slightly in his grip.

Dreamlike, she led him across the suite, discarding clothes as they went. And Harry was devoutly glad at that point the Veela’s allure had never really affected him. He knew he was here by his choice only. Then Gabrielle was standing in front of him entirely naked. Her slender, willowy body was as tall as his, but nervously she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Gabrielle?” Harry said softly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, 'arry,” Her words came out stronger than Harry expected. “I ‘ave always wanted you to do zis.”

They were words no male ego could resist and Harry kissed her. His arms encircled her body and pulled her close, his hands rubbing the tension out of her body. Gabrielle melted into his embrace with a sweet sigh.

They flowed forwards onto the bed, Gabrielle’s hair spreading in every direction. Her legs spread wide, but even then her hips were slender and narrow and her folds seemed to have to spread unnaturally wide to accommodate Harry’s cock. Golden brows knitted together in a pained frown.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Harry murmured, pushing forward slowly but firmly.

And it was. Gabrielle’s command of the English language seemed to fail her just as Harry was completely inside her, but the tone of her French and her grip on him and the lifting of her hips convinced Harry to continue moving as their dream-like state moved into total bliss.

Even later, after they had finished, Gabrielle slept soundly and her face was filled with such sweet innocence that Harry almost felt guilty. She made a soft, contented noise as Harry tucked the blankets around her more securely. Almost Guilty.