Fic: Unexpected (Neville/Padma)
May. 21st, 2014 06:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Unexpected
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Padma Patil
Word Count: ~2.1K
Content/Warnings: PWP, consensual but not discussed kink, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, very slight breathplay
Disclaimer: The characters, settings and HP Franchise as a whole are owned by JKR and not by me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
Summary: Neville seemed like such a gentleman, she never expected what he was going to be like in bed.
A/n:Written for
hp_may_madness Day 21, Kink: Rough Sex. Has not been beta read.
She hadn’t expected Neville Longbottom of all people to be like this, Padma Patil thought later. Parvati had badgered her onto going to a date with him and to Padma’s surprise it had been alright. She’d known him a bit from school of course and from Dumbledore’s Army but that was hardly a social setting. They’d gone for dinner and it turned out that Neville was very nice, polite and he was quite bright, so long as you talked herbology with him but she’d never felt that spark; that connection that meant she’d wanted to continue a relationship. She’d thought he’d picked up on that too. Still he’d been gentlemanly enough to escort her back to her flat anyway.
They’d hovered awkwardly at her front door. Padma’s hand rose automatically to brush at a dark hair that escaped the elegant knot she put it in for the date.
“Well thanks, Neville. That’s was a fun evening wasn’t it?” She said uncertainly.
“You’re quite welcome Padma,” Neville replied softly. There was a silence, that proved to stretch on for quite a long time.
Oh well, why not? Padma thought.
“How about a goodnight kiss, then?” She said. It was a nice way to let him down easy. She could always forget to owl or fire-call him tomorrow after all. The poor lad was nervous enough that he couldn’t reply, he just blushed as Padma stepped close to him, tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his.
It was the kiss that changed everything.
She couldn’t remember afterwards why she kissed him on the lips, she was sure she’d meant to just give him a peck on the cheek. But his lips were captivating, warm and firmly pressed against her, tasting her lips, her breath. Then he brought his hand into play. One of them cupped her face, fingertips trailing over her temple and through her hair; the other encircled her neck, the thumb warm against her throat.
The kiss deepened. Neville’s hold on her tightened ever so slightly. His grip supporting her as his Neville’s tongue delved into her mouth and pushed her own tongue about. With his hands busy high up, Padma’s hands could only go low, clutching at his stomach and hips, surprised at the muscles and tautness she felt there.
Not knowing if he’d pulled her closer or she’d just pushed herself against him Padma found that she was pressed tight to her chest, each breath mashing her breasts against him, feeling his warmth even through his shirt and her silk blouse. She relaxed completely in his grip, her eyes closing…
Abruptly he let her go and they separated by half a step, Neville’s hand still rest on her shoulder at the very base of her neck. She was still breathing heavily but even so it didn’t escape her attention that this brought Neville’s attention directly to her cleavage.
“i… um… wow. I mean….” Padma felt entirely wrong footed by the whole thing but still noticed her quickened breathing and thumbing heart and her sudden intense interest in Neville. “You must be thirsty. Want to come in for tea… or coffee or something?”
During their dinner, Padma was sure if she’d said this Neville would not haven taken the meaning at all. But then Neville seemed entirely different from the round faced, good natured bumbler she met earlier in the evening. Just a slight crease to his eyebrows, an intense hungry look in his eyes and his entire aspect changed. Suddenly Padma noticed the faded scars littering his face; a small shiver of excitement went down her spine.
“You sure?” Neville asked in husky sort of voice, almost a growl. His grip tightened again on her shoulder giving just a hint of warning, as if to say she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
“Yeah,” Padma said, nodding firmly.
The front door of her apartment slammed closed with a crash even as Padma flung her arms around Neville’s neck and snogged him hard, her tongue wrestling with his. In answer his arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her closer, pressing her against his chest before his finger s dug ito her bum. Padma moaned in response but it was muffled completely by Neville’s mouth clamped down over hers.
Still exchanging kisses, they staggered around her apartment, bouncing off her kitchen bar and ricocheting from the coffee table before collapsing on the sofa. Padma fell flat on her back, head half on a cushion and half on a thankfully thickly padded armrest, one high heel had been dislodged from her foot and flung across the room, never to be seen again.
Neville came down on top of her. His mouth claiming hers again, his hips rolled, insinuating himself between her legs. Padma’s heart skipped a beat, and she squirmed as she felt his hardness press against her. Her pencil skirt proved to be no defence at all, the motion of their bodies worked it up her until it was little better than a thick belt and soon his crotch rubbed directly against her knickers.
“Ugh,” Padma exclaimed between snogs, her spined arched, throwing her head back, “shit, Neville, you’re so hard.”
“For you I am,” Neville growled, shifting himself upwards on to his knees. “But let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
His hands moved up her body again, tracing her curves, feeling the silky smoothness of her blouse, but he didn’t bother with fiddling with the buttons, instead his fingers plunged between the plankets of the blouse, grabbing fistfuls off the fabric. Padma released what he was going to do only half an instant before he wrenched them far away from each other.
“Neville! What..?” Padma squeaked, as cold air rushed over her chest.
Buttons flew in all directions and there was distinct ripping sound. One side of the blouse was nearly clear of her shoulder and the other was down to her elbow, exposing a great vee-shape of shiny skin. The straps of the bra had gone with them and one of the cups sagged almost free of her breast.
For a moment Padma tried to think about how expense the blouse was instead of just how turned on she was. Then Neville’s hand pushed the lace cup of her bra down as his head ducked to envelope one of her nipples. Her head fell back and she whimpered as his tongue swirled over her tit, teasing it into complete hardness.
He lay on his side net to her, one hand awkwardly palming her other breast. Even through the remains of her blouse and bra that covered she could feel him roughly pawing at her, pinching the sensitive flesh beneath, almost painfully. The contrast between tongue and fingers just felt delicious.
His free hand was descending again though, two fingers skimming across the skin of her belly before they skipped over her skit and hooked under the waistline of her knickers, treating them with the same care and attention he had her top, he tore them down halfway to her knees.
“Now what do we have here?” He murmured to her, looking up from her breasts. His fingertip teased her entrance. “So wet.”
Padma let out a sharp breath as he plunged the finger into her to the knuckle.
“Just gagging for it aren’t you Padma?” He continued ignoring the sounds she made as his finger pumped in and out of her. “Got that little taste out there and suddenly you couldn’t get enough right?”
She hesitated. Gagging for it implied she was desperate and she certainly wasn’t that.
“Aren’t you?” Neville growled. Hs finger curled inside her stroking along her inner wall. Padma’s hips lurched beyond her control, her body clenching deliciously around the finger.
“Y-yes.” She whimpered, embarrassed.
“Yes, yes you are.” Neville said his finger resumed its pumping, joined by another. “There’s a word for girls like that Padma, do you know it?”
“Yes.” Padma said again, feeling her fluids spilling over his fingers but this time she forget to feel embarrassed.
“Good. Now are you going to show me the bedroom or am I just going to fuck you right here?”
Neville Longbottom should not have known that word, Padma thought, let alone use it with such utter conviction. The sound of it made her clench again, almost on the very edge of release but as he said it, he pulled his fingers free of her. He waggled them at her in reproach, still wet with her juices as he expectantly awaited her answer.
“That door over there.” She gasped, head limp against a cushion, over her heavy pants of exertion.
Somehow, somewhere between her sofa and her bed, they lost the rest of her clothes, not that Padma had much to left to lose. She didn’t have much time to admire his lean body, the soft brown hair dusted over muscle, before Neville was throwing her down in her bed again. So she had to stare up at him.
With relentless strength he pushed her legs apart and backwards, spreading her wide for him. Padma caught herself staring at his cock. Later she would realised he wasn’t much more than average but at the time he looked huge.
Neville hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and use the free hand to guide himself to her entrance, slamming home with one thrust. Padma’s body lurched and cried out but his hands held her still. One hand gripped her hip, the other was behind one knee and both held her so tightly his knuckles were white.
He pounded away at her, his hips moved in long rapid arcs, pulling and pushing almost all his length and out and in. The room filled with the wet noises of their bodies colliding, of Neville deep groans and growls and her noises she was making that she could hardly describe.
Her arms reached out to encircle Neville but he was too far way to reach all the way around, instead her hands scrabbled and gripped at his flanks, his hips or his chest. She squirmed and shivered in pleasure each time his hips slapped down on her and each time her grip tightened; her nails tearing at Neville’s skin.
Instantly Neville let go of her body and his hand clamped down on her wrists instead.
“That’s enough of that.” Neville growled, extracting her claws from her back. With a cry of effort he pushed forward pinned her arms to a mattress. He shifted them so he caught both of them under one hand. “You’re mine now.”
And the free hand went around her throat.
Padma stiffened and stifled a squeak of surprised but he didn’t grip her hard at all. All his weight was support by the hand holding her arms. His hand on her neck wouldn’t even have restricted her normal breathing. Of course of she wasn’t breathing normally, her chest heaved with effort and she went light-headed.
“Mine,” Neville repeated, slamming into her again and again. She locked eyes with him, seeing the fierceness in his eyes, the scars pale against flushed skin. His sweat fell free of him and splattered against her slick body. Her legs were still spread, one ludicrously so; the other hooked over a hip and into the air, she still grinded and thrust back at him as hard as she could. Her body shook and quaked with tension
“Mine.” Neville said one last time and waves of pleasure washed over Padma, wracking her body even as Neville held her firmly in place, she had only the barest recollection of him coming as well: perhaps half a dozen thrusts later.
She slowly returned to consciousness, sometime later. Moonlight burst through a half closed curtain. She still lay entirely naked on top of her covers. She glanced around and saw Neville lying on his side next to her. His eyes half open.
“Ah you’re awake,” Neville said nervously. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and looked her up and down. Padma knew what he was seeing, she was still soaked in both their sweat, her hair had come undone into a shaggy rat’s nest of a mess and she was probably bruising everywhere he’d touched her.
Neville went pink with embarrassment. It was almost like he was once again the boy she’d met for dinner.
“I… I guess I got carried away,” He said sheepishly with a half shrug.
Padma rolled on to herside away from him, then reached behind her, guiding his arm around her body so he spooned up behind her.
“Believe me, Nev,” she said in a very satisfied tone of voice. “You can carry me away anytime.”
As he Snuggled up against her neck, she felt rather than heard his great sigh of relief.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Padma Patil
Word Count: ~2.1K
Content/Warnings: PWP, consensual but not discussed kink, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, very slight breathplay
Disclaimer: The characters, settings and HP Franchise as a whole are owned by JKR and not by me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
Summary: Neville seemed like such a gentleman, she never expected what he was going to be like in bed.
A/n:Written for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
She hadn’t expected Neville Longbottom of all people to be like this, Padma Patil thought later. Parvati had badgered her onto going to a date with him and to Padma’s surprise it had been alright. She’d known him a bit from school of course and from Dumbledore’s Army but that was hardly a social setting. They’d gone for dinner and it turned out that Neville was very nice, polite and he was quite bright, so long as you talked herbology with him but she’d never felt that spark; that connection that meant she’d wanted to continue a relationship. She’d thought he’d picked up on that too. Still he’d been gentlemanly enough to escort her back to her flat anyway.
They’d hovered awkwardly at her front door. Padma’s hand rose automatically to brush at a dark hair that escaped the elegant knot she put it in for the date.
“Well thanks, Neville. That’s was a fun evening wasn’t it?” She said uncertainly.
“You’re quite welcome Padma,” Neville replied softly. There was a silence, that proved to stretch on for quite a long time.
Oh well, why not? Padma thought.
“How about a goodnight kiss, then?” She said. It was a nice way to let him down easy. She could always forget to owl or fire-call him tomorrow after all. The poor lad was nervous enough that he couldn’t reply, he just blushed as Padma stepped close to him, tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his.
It was the kiss that changed everything.
She couldn’t remember afterwards why she kissed him on the lips, she was sure she’d meant to just give him a peck on the cheek. But his lips were captivating, warm and firmly pressed against her, tasting her lips, her breath. Then he brought his hand into play. One of them cupped her face, fingertips trailing over her temple and through her hair; the other encircled her neck, the thumb warm against her throat.
The kiss deepened. Neville’s hold on her tightened ever so slightly. His grip supporting her as his Neville’s tongue delved into her mouth and pushed her own tongue about. With his hands busy high up, Padma’s hands could only go low, clutching at his stomach and hips, surprised at the muscles and tautness she felt there.
Not knowing if he’d pulled her closer or she’d just pushed herself against him Padma found that she was pressed tight to her chest, each breath mashing her breasts against him, feeling his warmth even through his shirt and her silk blouse. She relaxed completely in his grip, her eyes closing…
Abruptly he let her go and they separated by half a step, Neville’s hand still rest on her shoulder at the very base of her neck. She was still breathing heavily but even so it didn’t escape her attention that this brought Neville’s attention directly to her cleavage.
“i… um… wow. I mean….” Padma felt entirely wrong footed by the whole thing but still noticed her quickened breathing and thumbing heart and her sudden intense interest in Neville. “You must be thirsty. Want to come in for tea… or coffee or something?”
During their dinner, Padma was sure if she’d said this Neville would not haven taken the meaning at all. But then Neville seemed entirely different from the round faced, good natured bumbler she met earlier in the evening. Just a slight crease to his eyebrows, an intense hungry look in his eyes and his entire aspect changed. Suddenly Padma noticed the faded scars littering his face; a small shiver of excitement went down her spine.
“You sure?” Neville asked in husky sort of voice, almost a growl. His grip tightened again on her shoulder giving just a hint of warning, as if to say she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
“Yeah,” Padma said, nodding firmly.
The front door of her apartment slammed closed with a crash even as Padma flung her arms around Neville’s neck and snogged him hard, her tongue wrestling with his. In answer his arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her closer, pressing her against his chest before his finger s dug ito her bum. Padma moaned in response but it was muffled completely by Neville’s mouth clamped down over hers.
Still exchanging kisses, they staggered around her apartment, bouncing off her kitchen bar and ricocheting from the coffee table before collapsing on the sofa. Padma fell flat on her back, head half on a cushion and half on a thankfully thickly padded armrest, one high heel had been dislodged from her foot and flung across the room, never to be seen again.
Neville came down on top of her. His mouth claiming hers again, his hips rolled, insinuating himself between her legs. Padma’s heart skipped a beat, and she squirmed as she felt his hardness press against her. Her pencil skirt proved to be no defence at all, the motion of their bodies worked it up her until it was little better than a thick belt and soon his crotch rubbed directly against her knickers.
“Ugh,” Padma exclaimed between snogs, her spined arched, throwing her head back, “shit, Neville, you’re so hard.”
“For you I am,” Neville growled, shifting himself upwards on to his knees. “But let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
His hands moved up her body again, tracing her curves, feeling the silky smoothness of her blouse, but he didn’t bother with fiddling with the buttons, instead his fingers plunged between the plankets of the blouse, grabbing fistfuls off the fabric. Padma released what he was going to do only half an instant before he wrenched them far away from each other.
“Neville! What..?” Padma squeaked, as cold air rushed over her chest.
Buttons flew in all directions and there was distinct ripping sound. One side of the blouse was nearly clear of her shoulder and the other was down to her elbow, exposing a great vee-shape of shiny skin. The straps of the bra had gone with them and one of the cups sagged almost free of her breast.
For a moment Padma tried to think about how expense the blouse was instead of just how turned on she was. Then Neville’s hand pushed the lace cup of her bra down as his head ducked to envelope one of her nipples. Her head fell back and she whimpered as his tongue swirled over her tit, teasing it into complete hardness.
He lay on his side net to her, one hand awkwardly palming her other breast. Even through the remains of her blouse and bra that covered she could feel him roughly pawing at her, pinching the sensitive flesh beneath, almost painfully. The contrast between tongue and fingers just felt delicious.
His free hand was descending again though, two fingers skimming across the skin of her belly before they skipped over her skit and hooked under the waistline of her knickers, treating them with the same care and attention he had her top, he tore them down halfway to her knees.
“Now what do we have here?” He murmured to her, looking up from her breasts. His fingertip teased her entrance. “So wet.”
Padma let out a sharp breath as he plunged the finger into her to the knuckle.
“Just gagging for it aren’t you Padma?” He continued ignoring the sounds she made as his finger pumped in and out of her. “Got that little taste out there and suddenly you couldn’t get enough right?”
She hesitated. Gagging for it implied she was desperate and she certainly wasn’t that.
“Aren’t you?” Neville growled. Hs finger curled inside her stroking along her inner wall. Padma’s hips lurched beyond her control, her body clenching deliciously around the finger.
“Y-yes.” She whimpered, embarrassed.
“Yes, yes you are.” Neville said his finger resumed its pumping, joined by another. “There’s a word for girls like that Padma, do you know it?”
“Yes.” Padma said again, feeling her fluids spilling over his fingers but this time she forget to feel embarrassed.
“Good. Now are you going to show me the bedroom or am I just going to fuck you right here?”
Neville Longbottom should not have known that word, Padma thought, let alone use it with such utter conviction. The sound of it made her clench again, almost on the very edge of release but as he said it, he pulled his fingers free of her. He waggled them at her in reproach, still wet with her juices as he expectantly awaited her answer.
“That door over there.” She gasped, head limp against a cushion, over her heavy pants of exertion.
Somehow, somewhere between her sofa and her bed, they lost the rest of her clothes, not that Padma had much to left to lose. She didn’t have much time to admire his lean body, the soft brown hair dusted over muscle, before Neville was throwing her down in her bed again. So she had to stare up at him.
With relentless strength he pushed her legs apart and backwards, spreading her wide for him. Padma caught herself staring at his cock. Later she would realised he wasn’t much more than average but at the time he looked huge.
Neville hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and use the free hand to guide himself to her entrance, slamming home with one thrust. Padma’s body lurched and cried out but his hands held her still. One hand gripped her hip, the other was behind one knee and both held her so tightly his knuckles were white.
He pounded away at her, his hips moved in long rapid arcs, pulling and pushing almost all his length and out and in. The room filled with the wet noises of their bodies colliding, of Neville deep groans and growls and her noises she was making that she could hardly describe.
Her arms reached out to encircle Neville but he was too far way to reach all the way around, instead her hands scrabbled and gripped at his flanks, his hips or his chest. She squirmed and shivered in pleasure each time his hips slapped down on her and each time her grip tightened; her nails tearing at Neville’s skin.
Instantly Neville let go of her body and his hand clamped down on her wrists instead.
“That’s enough of that.” Neville growled, extracting her claws from her back. With a cry of effort he pushed forward pinned her arms to a mattress. He shifted them so he caught both of them under one hand. “You’re mine now.”
And the free hand went around her throat.
Padma stiffened and stifled a squeak of surprised but he didn’t grip her hard at all. All his weight was support by the hand holding her arms. His hand on her neck wouldn’t even have restricted her normal breathing. Of course of she wasn’t breathing normally, her chest heaved with effort and she went light-headed.
“Mine,” Neville repeated, slamming into her again and again. She locked eyes with him, seeing the fierceness in his eyes, the scars pale against flushed skin. His sweat fell free of him and splattered against her slick body. Her legs were still spread, one ludicrously so; the other hooked over a hip and into the air, she still grinded and thrust back at him as hard as she could. Her body shook and quaked with tension
“Mine.” Neville said one last time and waves of pleasure washed over Padma, wracking her body even as Neville held her firmly in place, she had only the barest recollection of him coming as well: perhaps half a dozen thrusts later.
She slowly returned to consciousness, sometime later. Moonlight burst through a half closed curtain. She still lay entirely naked on top of her covers. She glanced around and saw Neville lying on his side next to her. His eyes half open.
“Ah you’re awake,” Neville said nervously. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and looked her up and down. Padma knew what he was seeing, she was still soaked in both their sweat, her hair had come undone into a shaggy rat’s nest of a mess and she was probably bruising everywhere he’d touched her.
Neville went pink with embarrassment. It was almost like he was once again the boy she’d met for dinner.
“I… I guess I got carried away,” He said sheepishly with a half shrug.
Padma rolled on to herside away from him, then reached behind her, guiding his arm around her body so he spooned up behind her.
“Believe me, Nev,” she said in a very satisfied tone of voice. “You can carry me away anytime.”
As he Snuggled up against her neck, she felt rather than heard his great sigh of relief.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-21 06:04 pm (UTC)God, what a ride. I whooped out loud when Padma's heel went flying across the room. Not to mention the shirt-ripping business. And your dirty talk was spectacular.
“Yes, yes you are.” Neville said his finger resumed its pumping, joined by another. “There’s a word for girls like that Padma, do you know it?”
Unf, that line is just so deliciously condescending and taunting that I can barely take it. A gentleman in the street and a freak in the sheets. What more could a girl ask for?
no subject
Date: 2014-05-21 06:23 pm (UTC)Shirt ripping description is something i've been wanting to use for a while. Of course now I can't use it in... other fics.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-22 05:38 am (UTC)Neville could carry me away any time too.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-22 04:07 pm (UTC)