Chapter Text
Pansy could hardly believe the situation in which she found herself. Strangely enough, when she had decided to become a call girl two years ago, she did not, under any circumstances, anticipate that she would eventually be standing outside Neville Longbottom’s flat, about to knock on the door because he had hired her to have sex with him.
Granted, she had the upper hand here–he did not apparently know quite what he was getting himself into. According to her boss Matilda, when he made the appointment he had simply asked for a witch with dark hair. Easy enough, she thought, tucking one side of her black bob behind her ear. Matilda knew they had gone to Hogwarts together, and she offered to assign one of the other girls if it would be too awkward. But Pansy wanted this one, if only to assuage her now rampant curiosity. Longbottom was the last person she would ever have expected to hire a girl for the night. She also hadn’t crossed paths with him in at least five years, and she couldn’t suppress the urge to figure out what the hell was going on.
She straightened her skirt and knocked on the door. Normally she preferred a neutral location–a hotel room, because too many people had disgustingly untidy homes, and that was one indignity she just couldn’t tolerate–but in this case, the desire to see Neville’s flat, to get the whole picture of his life that had somehow led him to this, was too overpowering.
He swung the door open. She only caught the briefest bit of nervousness on his face before he recognized her, and the expression dropped into shock.
“Pansy?” he choked.
“Hello Longbottom,” she said, cool as ever.
“What on earth are you doing here?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“You’re–you’re… no.”
“Disappointed?”
“No! No, no…” he trailed off, looking embarrassed.
She laughed and rolled her eyes, sidestepping him into the flat and glancing around the combined entry and living space. His taste was fine, ordinary, and the place was blessedly clean. No glaring red flags. Mostly just a lot of potted plants.
She turned back to Neville and scanned him from head to toe. He looked good. Broad shoulders, a decent haircut, clothes that fit properly. His skin was smooth and clear, and his features had grown into something… quite nice. Yes, she could definitely work with this.
“So,” she said, “why don’t we have a drink, and you can explain why you’re paying to have sex with me?”
She watched his throat move as he gulped. “Right.”
***
They stood on opposite sides of his kitchen, sipping firewhisky.
“So,” she said again. “You couldn’t find anyone to have sex with you the old fashioned way? I find that hard to believe.”
He blushed. “Maybe I could. But I’m… not as experienced as I’d like to be, and it makes me less than confident when I try to date.”
Her eyes widened. “Longbottom, are you a virgin?!” she cried, completely delighted.
“No, no.” His face was on fire, from the look of it. “But uh, I’ve only been with Hannah. Abbott. And we broke up about a year ago. So.”
“Ah.”
“Every time I try to put myself out there, I don’t know.” He grabbed the back of his neck. “I can’t get past my doubts.”
Pansy, for all her sympathy, suddenly couldn’t focus on anything except the bulge of his bicep as he ruffled the back of his hair, apparently not even aware of what he was doing.
She jolted herself back to reality.
“Okay. So what are you into?”
“What do you mean?”
“Any kinks? Preferences? Things I absolutely must avoid or risk getting hexed?”
He looked uncomfortable. “I’m a pretty vanilla guy, I guess.”
She tilted her head, staring at him. Call it gut instinct after all of her own experience, but she just didn’t fully believe him.
“Sure, we’ll go with that for now. Are you attracted to me, Longbottom?”
He met her eyes, and something in his gaze reminded her of a prey animal caught in the stare of a predator. But then he seemed to steel himself.
“Yes,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
“Good. Come here please.” The only way out was through… she couldn’t be positive, but with any luck, one good go with her would have Neville past the worst of his nerves, and then they could work on getting him a bit more experience.
He finished his firewhisky and set the glass aside, and she did the same. She put her hands on his waist once he was within reach.
“Now.” She smiled. “Kiss me.”
This close, their height difference was stark. He bent his neck to look down at her; she turned her face up to him like a flower to the sun. He really was handsome. A witch could get lost in those green eyes and perfect lips.
He cradled her jaw in his hands and lowered his mouth to meet hers. He went soft and gentle first, light pressure and tame pecks, until she opened and swiped the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip. She tugged it between her teeth, swiping with her tongue again, feeling the hitch of his breath against her mouth. One of her hands reached for his neck, combing through his thick hair and pulling him more firmly into her.
He had the hang of it now, she thought, smiling when he chased her lips and giving a little noise of encouragement from the back of her throat when his tongue pushed into her mouth. This was… fun ? Yes, fun. And he smelled good. So, so much better than the forty-something wizard she’d been hired by a few days ago.
He was still holding her face, running his thumbs over her jawline. She pulled away from him to inhale against his throat, and murmured, “You can touch me, you know.”
He made a sound, like he wasn’t fully confident in her words–yes, they’d definitely have to work on that–but his hands smoothed down her back nevertheless, coming to a stop just above her bum. Jesus they were big, she thought, as she pulled him into another kiss. She could feel the span of one hand, from wrist to fingertips, across almost the whole of her back. She shivered a little in anticipation. He was big enough to throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or crush her in his arms, or protect her from anything. Yum .
When she encountered his tongue again, she sucked on it, and couldn’t help but be pleased by the strangled noise he made, or the way his hand seemed to flex into her involuntarily. She wanted to giggle. Giggle . Merlin.
She could feel his erection against her stomach. She broke their kiss with a peck and grabbed his right hand, pushing it to the hem of her skirt. He watched her face as she guided him beneath the fabric, grazing up the inside of her thigh, and then pressing his index and middle fingers against her naked cunt. She was wet, swollen, and deeply satisfied by the way he reacted–a jolt of surprise, a groan of agony. He kept his fingers still against her flesh.
“Neville,” she breathed. She held his hand in place by the wrist, but moved her hips, grinding against it. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation.
She grinned. “Good. Now take off–”
She choked on her words, because his fingers had moved of their own accord, and pushed inside her. She moaned as they curled forward, brushing against the sensitive spot there, and then pulled out and swept through the slickness of her arousal on the way to her clit. He focused there for a moment, while she dug her fingernails into his arm and sighed.
“Alright?” he asked.
She nodded frantically. “Yes. Yes, keep going.”
He smiled a little. She tried not to notice how deeply attractive he was and instead worked on untucking and removing her blouse. Once tossed aside, she leaned back, pushing her hips against him, his hand still working at her clit, occasionally sweeping back down to her entrance only to tease and then retreat. She groaned.
He kissed her neck, her collarbone, down her chest to the top of her left breast, where he sucked and nibbled until she certainly had a bruise.
Her breath was ragged in her chest, and she finally pushed his hand away from her long enough to tear his shirt off. She moaned, partially in despair, when she saw his chest. What fucking business did he have being this horribly fit? There were defined muscles everywhere, his shoulders, his abs, his pecs, his stupid, beautiful arms. And yet, he wasn’t overbuilt. He looked wonderfully, shockingly capable . She hated it.
She attacked his trousers next, unbuckling and unzipping enough to get her hand beneath the fabric and stroke Neville’s cock through his boxers. If the sex wasn’t good, she was going to be devastated. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited to get someone inside her.
And then she pushed enough to free his erection, and all she could do was stare.
She had encountered many, many dicks in her line of work, and his was top of the line. Aesthetically perfect, and just the right size–large but not too large, and thank god for that; she was interested in being satisfied, not injured.
Combined with his body and how bloody sweet he seemed to be, it was hard to imagine why anyone would give him up.
She pushed at his waistband again. “Take these off,” she said, as she unfastened her bra and slid out of her skirt. Once naked, she hoisted herself onto the countertop and pulled him between her legs. She kissed him, giggling when she wrapped her hand around his erection and he moaned into her mouth.
“Come here,” she whispered. She guided him to her cunt, and he pressed into her slowly. The stretch was delicious, and she leaned back onto her hands, tilting her hips a little. He fell forward over her, resting his forehead against hers as he thrust again, gently, advancing another inch.
She wanted to say something, to speak to him, but for once her mind was blank. All she could do was pant while he pushed, and pushed, and finally had himself sheathed completely in her cunt.
“Merlin, fuck,” he breathed. “I should’ve gotten you off first…”
“I’ll be fine,” she muttered, kissing him once. “Just fuck me, Neville.”
“Right.”
He pulled out almost entirely, then plunged back in. Pansy moaned. Yes, this. Finally.
He set a steady rhythm, and she laid back completely on the counter, the cold marble making goosebumps rise on her skin. She raised her hands above her head and arched her back with a moan, gratified by the look on Neville’s face as he watched her. He grabbed her hips and increased his pace. God, he was something to look at. That handsome face creased in concentration, his excellent muscles flexing as he drove into her. She could watch him fuck her all day.
But she needed more. He was already looking at her breasts. She grabbed one of his hands and directed it there, sighing in relief when he immediately thumbed her nipple.
She felt an orgasm building and reached for her clit. Neville watched her fingers glide over it for a moment before batting her hand out of the way and mimicking the motion with his thumb. Her hips lurched up against him. It took only a bit of continued attention to her clit before she came, crying out and clenching around his cock, shuddering under a wave of pleasure before she surfaced again.
“Fuck,” she gasped.
Neville’s eyes were glued to her face, and she smiled weakly up at him. Her legs shifted against his hips with the aftershocks running through them. If she could only… she raised her right leg, and he read her intention. He placed his hand behind her knee and held it for her, giving him a different angle, hitting deeper inside her.
They groaned in tandem.
“Pansy–”
“I know.”
He came, thrusting into her harshly and grunting in pleasure as he filled her with his release.
She had to laugh again, she couldn’t help it. This time, he smiled back and gave a tiny chuckle.
“Neville.” She leaned up to catch his mouth in a lingering kiss. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
***
They moved from the kitchen to his bedroom when they finally caught their breath, vanished the mess they’d made, and Pansy said, “I assume you have a bed somewhere in this flat?”
Now, snuggled in his clean sheets and turned to face him, she watched him while he stared at the ceiling.
“So, Longbottom. What have you been up to? Besides worrying about sex.”
He smiled softly at her teasing. “Herbology. I sell plants.”
“Mmm. What else?”
“I dunno, what do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me all you do is work, Longbottom?”
“I s’pose not. I see my friends, my gran. Go to the pub. I live a boring life, I guess.”
She shook her head a little, even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“It sounds nice to me.”
“Well, your turn,” he said, rolling to face her. He mirrored her, with one hand under the pillow beneath his head. “How on earth did you end up…”
“Doing this?” Pansy filled in, with a smirk.
“Yes. If that’s not too rude to ask.”
She waved away his concern. “I don’t mind.” She would have minded, actually, if it had been someone else, one of the strangers she slept with. But it felt right for Neville to ask.
“I still live with my parents,” she explained, “and they’re very traditional. They don’t want me to work… the thought of me, with an ordinary job… or even a good one, really. They’d bother me about it constantly. They want to marry me off to some rich pureblood, and I’ve managed to hold them off, for now. But I probably won’t be able to forever. So I’ve been building a little nest egg for myself, just in case. They don’t realize that I’m working, on a night like tonight. They think I’m out with friends, partying, whatever. And it pays better than anything else I could have done. Surely you remember I was never the brightest in school.”
He frowned at her self deprecation, but didn’t argue. Instead he returned to something else. “You don’t want to get married?”
She shrugged. “Maybe someday. But not like that. It’s very uncouth of me, I know, very much not up to Pureblood standards ,” she mimicked her mother, “but I want to marry for love. Otherwise what’s the point?”
He hummed, seemingly in agreement, and she turned the question back on him.
“So you and Hannah—what happened there? Didn’t want to marry her?”
He sighed, staring somewhere around her covered torso. “More like the other way around. I mean we weren’t… it’s not like I was about to propose, or anything. But she wasn’t happy with me anymore, I guess. She left me on relatively friendly terms, and we haven’t seen much of each other since.”
“And how do you feel now,” she asked, poking his ribs and grinning when he caught her hand to stop her.
He met her eyes. “Good, I think.”
“Good,” she said back. She scooted closer to him. “And do you want more… experience?”
She fluttered her eyes, glancing at his lips and then back up to meet his gaze coyly.
“Yes,” he said firmly, then covered her lips with his own.
Pansy didn’t know why she was smiling into the kiss as he rolled her beneath him, so she ignored it. There were no clothes between them, and the heat of his body felt amazing. She wanted to be cocooned here forever.
He kissed down her neck to her chest and spent many long minutes giving her breasts the attention they so desperately needed. She arched her back, felt his teeth scrape against her nipple, whimpered happily and tried to wrap her leg around him so she could grind on something, anything. He held himself apart from her just enough to make it impossible.
“God, Neville,” she groaned.
“Sorry,” he said, lifting his head briefly before ducking back down and speaking between kisses. “Didn’t get enough time for this earlier.”
“It’s okay,” she said, but he was already coming back to her mouth. “You can have as much as you want.”
She wasn’t even sure what she meant by that. As much of what ? Time? Her? But it felt true. “I was just trying to get you past your nerves the first time around.”
“It worked.” He grinned, and it almost made her heart stop. He was stunning.
He kissed her again, slowly, with so much filthy intent she felt herself clench on nothing. She spread her legs, and he fell between them, groaning at how wet she was.
Again, she wanted to say something, offer some shred of dirty talk or a quip, but her mind was blank, too immersed in the feeling of his cock sliding against her to cobble anything together.
He stopped kissing her long enough to focus on getting inside her, though he didn’t pull away, so when he thrust home they were still breathing into each other’s open mouths. Every little sound he made vibrated through her. He rolled his hips, sending sensation shooting through Pansy with the rhythm.
“Yes,” she gasped. “So good, Neville.”
He could only grunt in response.
He was holding himself up by outstretched arms while he plunged into her, and though the view of his incredible body was nice, she wanted more.
“You’re too far away,” she pouted, as she attempted to pull him closer.
“I’m trying not to crush you.”
“I like it close.”
He gave in and let her pull him down, until his weight rested on his forearms and his chest pressed into the length of her own. He buried his face in her neck while she carded her fingers through his hair.
“Yes, just like that,” she panted.
One of his arms moved, his hand reaching for her arse and gripping it, holding her roughly against him while his strokes slowed, became more deliberate, and dirtier somehow. He lifted his head and rested his forehead against her own again.
Part of her wanted to turn away from him. It was too much—she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this connected to someone during sex. But she stayed there, sucking in air and moaning with every stroke from the way Neville’s cock filled her up and the way he ground against her clit.
“Can you come like this?” he asked softly.
“Yeah. Yeah, just keep going.”
He did, and when she shuddered and cried out, he followed, slamming into her and drawing out her orgasm until he stilled and spent inside her.
“Alright?” he asked, as she breathed deep and traced her fingers down his back in a soothing pattern.
“Yeah,” she whispered. He was still inside her. He pulled out a few inches, then slid back in. She moaned softly.
Her fingers dug into his back as he did it again. She arched, pushing her breasts against his chest, as he kept softly, gently, moving into her. God this is hot, she thought, and then he reached for her clit and stroked her to another orgasm with his softening cock still inside her and his eyes watching her face carefully.
“Fuck,” she muttered, when she caught her breath and opened her eyes.
He fell to her side. “Yeah.”
***
Pansy should have known better than to spend the night. And she definitely should have known better than to fuck Neville a third time. But when she woke up just before dawn to find herself spooned from head to toe, could she really do anything else?
He was keeping her warm, his cock was hard against her arse, and he held her to him with a hand on her breast, even though she could tell by his breathing that he was very much still asleep.
She felt her cunt throb. She wanted him again. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and she was already wet and desperate.
She moved her hips, pushing back against his cock gently. Neither of them had put any clothes back on after their last escapade, and she was so glad for it now. She could feel every inch of him on her skin as she swirled her arse, rolling her hips again and again until his breath hitched and the hand holding her tit gripped her harder.
She moaned, pleased to have roused him. She rocked back, pressing into his cock and swaying until his hips stirred too, meeting her movements while he groaned sleepily into her neck. She shivered.
“Neville,” she whispered.
His only reply was a grunt, but he had started thumbing her nipple, and she arched into his touch with a sigh and gripped the sheets. He mouthed at the back of her neck lazily.
She turned in his arms, threw her leg over his hip, and kissed him greedily. He was breathing as hard as she was now, and their hands were frantic as they groped each other in the dark.
Then he grabbed her arse, and she reached between them to line him up with her entrance, and he pushed inside her in one hard thrust. In this position they could only manage short, slow movements. Their moans mingled as Neville’s cock surged within her, until Pansy wanted more and pushed him to his back, moving on top of him.
She planted her hands on either side of his head and chased her own pleasure, rolling her hips and dragging her clit against him while he gripped her hips and thighs so hard she thought he might bruise her. She came with her forehead pressed to his, crying out against his open mouth while she clamped down on his cock. When she had recovered enough, she sat up a little and rode him until he came too, watching him underneath her the whole time.
His body was gorgeous, but it was his face she couldn’t look away from. His eyes half closed, the way his mouth fell open when he moaned. His brow furrowing when he was getting close to the edge.
Afterward, she waited for him to fall asleep, and then she crept out of the room, collecting and donning her clothes in the kitchen. Dawn was breaking, shooting fingers of blue light across the sky when she walked out of his flat, feeling her heart sink.
She was so, so fucked.