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firewhiskeyficTitle: What Comes After
Author:lq_traintracks
I am of legal drinking age in my region: More and more every year, yes.
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Ginny/Pansy/Neville (Ginsyville??); brief mention of Drarry, and… others?? Dear lord, I really don’t know who I shiped in this.
Challenge/Prompts used: All of them! Heyheyyyyy!!
Summary: Pansy has two lovers. Two werewolf lovers. But really, everyone’s terribly fucked up. She’s not special.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/E; let’s see if I can remember what to warn for; threesome (f/f/m); anal sex; cunnilingus; some angst; maudlin prose??; maybe dubcon for *not* dosing people??; what’s the wrof for if you lick up somebody’s elses come as it’s coming out?? I can’t believe I’ve forgotten the term! But there’s that I’m pretty sure., first person Pansy POV; bisexauliuty baby!
Word count: ~1,500
Author's Notes (if any): This note is the only part I’m adding the morning after. I think the alcohol really hit me after I finished writing. *facepalm* I hope this is enjoyable! Thanks so much to Shelly and Torino for running the fest again! I looked forward to it all week and had a blast!
Sometimes I’m late getting the potion done. What can I say? My hand slips. Oops!
But when it’s Wolfsbane… yeah, it sort of matters, doesn’t it?
They find me in the greenhouse, number three, Nev’s favourite. I think it’s Gin’s preferred one too, just from (god, what do I mean here? muscle memory?that’s not quite right. like…) Pavlovian response.
“What took you so long?” I ask. Their reddish eyes glimmer at me in the dark, coming slowly in my direction through the lush foliage. I slip my panties down and off. Start to unbutton my blouse. But I don’t get very far. Because they can smell it, smell me.
Nev pounces, gets my back to his front, opens his hungry lips near my throat, and I take him by the hair, granting him access. Even like this, he won’t break the skin. I’m pretty sure. Gin’s hands, near claws now, ruck up my skirt, her breath fast, panting, like an animal’s.
“Come and get it,” I say softly, though they need no invitation.
My skirt rises up my thighs, bares my arse to him, my pussy to her. God, I’ve been dying for this, for them. Everyone said eighth year would be a collosal bore. (Who here knows how to spell collosal? Help a fella out yeah? Jesus. No idea. Anyway.) Draco moaned about it all summer, though I know he was just ashamed, completely afraid to show his face. And now look at him. Shagging Potter left and right, can barely keep his dick in his pants through breakfast, a perfect slag he is.
And then there’s Blaise, doing Granger if you can believe that. All over the bloody castle.
Theo’s got both Finnigan and Thomas on their knees for him.
Millie’s fucking pretty much all of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw combined, and good for her!
We’re all “adults” now. Been through a war. Got fucked over by our parents, left with a world that hardly wants us for anything. It’s a jolly good time. Have to find our fun where we can, right?
And it sucks. That both Ginevra and Neville took a bite in the battle. No one’s bloody pleased about that. We’re all sleeping in the beds that someone else made. They’re so good, the both of them. War heroes. Everybody says it. Of course only what Potter does matters.
Which is…rather nice. Leaves the rest of us to languish in the shadows, sub-par, unequal, undeserving of the spotlight and the praise. Which he doesn’t even want, mind you. We’re all in a quagmire here. We’re all scraping by. Skin of our teeth, as it were.
We’re all in silent agony.
Which is why I take my pleasure where I can get it.
Ginny drops to her knees, her face pressed to my muff like she can inhale me, cocaine on a mirror. She’s not fully turned. We figured a work-around for that in the first month back, courtesy Draco, master potioneer at a flimsy eighteen. It’s how he’s decided to be valuable enough not to throw to the Dementors.
Nev’s hard behind me, rutting at me, wanting in. He’s just human enough to wait for me. I lift a foot and prop it on a bench. Gin’s mouth opens on me. Nev’s cock pushes. His dick’s so wet. Animal wet.
I’m wetter.
“God,” I exhale, his cock fucking me into her mouth, She laps at me, maybe less than half human, her incisors sharp against my labia in a way that rockets my arousal into my head, down my thighs. Her tongue seeks my entrance, her nose in my bush like all she wants is to be suffocated by me and my pleasure.
Nev goes in me with no prep, and he doesn’t need any. I’m slick like a tongue, like ice, like maybe I’ve never been. He’s in my arse. He loves being in my arse. And my cunt feels so empty. I’d give anything to be fucked there. To be finally full.
I grip his hair, eyes closing, head dropped back on his strong shoulder. When I open my eyes, fucked between them, the night opens above me, grand and untouchable. Stars shine through panes of fogged glass, and I blink, trying to see them better, to focus. But they remain fuzzy, glassy and distant.
I orgasm into Gin’s face. Bucking into her from Nev’s cock opening me up from behind. Starlight, behind my eyes, dripping down my face, all of it, months of heartache, of striving, dissolving under my lover’s tongue.
Neville’s thrusts accelerate, my pleasure no matter. Tears drop heavy down my face. He takes me. I’m taken. He makes a sound and fills me. I arch into it, and Gin’s mouth skims up my stomach, her teeth sharp like a threat, until she pushes my blouse open, grips me to her fiercely, and her lips attach to my nipple. She sucks me into her hot mouth on a grunt. He’s whimpering like a dog, his come flooding me. I meet Gin’s eyes, her lips bowed around me… and then she drops down once more, opens her mouth around my cunt and takes me in, takes Nev’s dripping come into her mouth from the insides of my thighs.
“Fuck you’re so good,” I tell them both. And yet they make me come again. Her mouth, his dick still hard, still fucking. “”Oh fuck.”
If voice could shatter glass. But I’m no falsetto. I’m just a woman, a girl really, between them. Safe between them, my body shattering with pleasure, despite the tragedy of it all.
I’m myself, and outside myself, and I’m in them, and I’m held apart from them.
I’m in this morass they left for us to fix. I’m in starlight, and it’s bathing me clean.
~
We lie, together, under the silver-fog of dawn. Just a short sleep, to replenish what we’ve lost. Just a spoon, and a bigger spoon, and a little spoon, curled safe beneath the fronds of hibiscus and venomous tendrils and vines and tendrils (again appaertnly). We sleep with soft breath, ready to wake, ready to persevere.
I drip with them. I shun cleaning spells like this, with them. Why wouldn’t I cling to their scent? It’s the way they claim me, and I need to be claimed.
I hear birdsong, and I know our time is short. I curl around his back and feel Giiny’s arms tighten in sleep, not wanting to lose me, even in a dream, a fiction of us.
I grasp onto her, pull her arms around me stronger.
They sleep while I remain awake. And I hear the birds singing like there’s nothing wrong with the world.
I want to believe them.
I want.
For just a moment, I close my eyes. And I drift on it. Their bodies close, heartbeats strong. And us. Still here. Still breathing.
The rain starts as a patter, as nothing .It builds, so much percussion against the glass ceiling above.
I close my eyes, birdsong defiant over our bodies like a blanket, like a lullaby to wake to. If we ever wake from this.Thunder rumbles in the distance, over the hills guarding the lake, the castle, these fragile psyches we’re in charge of.
My lovers sleep against my body. They make noises in their dreams. I want nothing more than to melt into tt oblivion they provide in the den of their arms. Gin snuffles against my back, and I wonder if this is all there is. If I’m anything more than this, a safe harbor, a bed, a place to bury the pain. I wonder. If we are ourselves or something else. Something longed for, always beyond our fingertips’ retrieval.
I wonder.
If anything comes after.
Author:
lq_traintracksI am of legal drinking age in my region: More and more every year, yes.
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Ginny/Pansy/Neville (Ginsyville??); brief mention of Drarry, and… others?? Dear lord, I really don’t know who I shiped in this.
Challenge/Prompts used: All of them! Heyheyyyyy!!
Summary: Pansy has two lovers. Two werewolf lovers. But really, everyone’s terribly fucked up. She’s not special.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/E; let’s see if I can remember what to warn for; threesome (f/f/m); anal sex; cunnilingus; some angst; maudlin prose??; maybe dubcon for *not* dosing people??; what’s the wrof for if you lick up somebody’s elses come as it’s coming out?? I can’t believe I’ve forgotten the term! But there’s that I’m pretty sure., first person Pansy POV; bisexauliuty baby!
Word count: ~1,500
Author's Notes (if any): This note is the only part I’m adding the morning after. I think the alcohol really hit me after I finished writing. *facepalm* I hope this is enjoyable! Thanks so much to Shelly and Torino for running the fest again! I looked forward to it all week and had a blast!
Sometimes I’m late getting the potion done. What can I say? My hand slips. Oops!
But when it’s Wolfsbane… yeah, it sort of matters, doesn’t it?
They find me in the greenhouse, number three, Nev’s favourite. I think it’s Gin’s preferred one too, just from (god, what do I mean here? muscle memory?that’s not quite right. like…) Pavlovian response.
“What took you so long?” I ask. Their reddish eyes glimmer at me in the dark, coming slowly in my direction through the lush foliage. I slip my panties down and off. Start to unbutton my blouse. But I don’t get very far. Because they can smell it, smell me.
Nev pounces, gets my back to his front, opens his hungry lips near my throat, and I take him by the hair, granting him access. Even like this, he won’t break the skin. I’m pretty sure. Gin’s hands, near claws now, ruck up my skirt, her breath fast, panting, like an animal’s.
“Come and get it,” I say softly, though they need no invitation.
My skirt rises up my thighs, bares my arse to him, my pussy to her. God, I’ve been dying for this, for them. Everyone said eighth year would be a collosal bore. (Who here knows how to spell collosal? Help a fella out yeah? Jesus. No idea. Anyway.) Draco moaned about it all summer, though I know he was just ashamed, completely afraid to show his face. And now look at him. Shagging Potter left and right, can barely keep his dick in his pants through breakfast, a perfect slag he is.
And then there’s Blaise, doing Granger if you can believe that. All over the bloody castle.
Theo’s got both Finnigan and Thomas on their knees for him.
Millie’s fucking pretty much all of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw combined, and good for her!
We’re all “adults” now. Been through a war. Got fucked over by our parents, left with a world that hardly wants us for anything. It’s a jolly good time. Have to find our fun where we can, right?
And it sucks. That both Ginevra and Neville took a bite in the battle. No one’s bloody pleased about that. We’re all sleeping in the beds that someone else made. They’re so good, the both of them. War heroes. Everybody says it. Of course only what Potter does matters.
Which is…rather nice. Leaves the rest of us to languish in the shadows, sub-par, unequal, undeserving of the spotlight and the praise. Which he doesn’t even want, mind you. We’re all in a quagmire here. We’re all scraping by. Skin of our teeth, as it were.
We’re all in silent agony.
Which is why I take my pleasure where I can get it.
Ginny drops to her knees, her face pressed to my muff like she can inhale me, cocaine on a mirror. She’s not fully turned. We figured a work-around for that in the first month back, courtesy Draco, master potioneer at a flimsy eighteen. It’s how he’s decided to be valuable enough not to throw to the Dementors.
Nev’s hard behind me, rutting at me, wanting in. He’s just human enough to wait for me. I lift a foot and prop it on a bench. Gin’s mouth opens on me. Nev’s cock pushes. His dick’s so wet. Animal wet.
I’m wetter.
“God,” I exhale, his cock fucking me into her mouth, She laps at me, maybe less than half human, her incisors sharp against my labia in a way that rockets my arousal into my head, down my thighs. Her tongue seeks my entrance, her nose in my bush like all she wants is to be suffocated by me and my pleasure.
Nev goes in me with no prep, and he doesn’t need any. I’m slick like a tongue, like ice, like maybe I’ve never been. He’s in my arse. He loves being in my arse. And my cunt feels so empty. I’d give anything to be fucked there. To be finally full.
I grip his hair, eyes closing, head dropped back on his strong shoulder. When I open my eyes, fucked between them, the night opens above me, grand and untouchable. Stars shine through panes of fogged glass, and I blink, trying to see them better, to focus. But they remain fuzzy, glassy and distant.
I orgasm into Gin’s face. Bucking into her from Nev’s cock opening me up from behind. Starlight, behind my eyes, dripping down my face, all of it, months of heartache, of striving, dissolving under my lover’s tongue.
Neville’s thrusts accelerate, my pleasure no matter. Tears drop heavy down my face. He takes me. I’m taken. He makes a sound and fills me. I arch into it, and Gin’s mouth skims up my stomach, her teeth sharp like a threat, until she pushes my blouse open, grips me to her fiercely, and her lips attach to my nipple. She sucks me into her hot mouth on a grunt. He’s whimpering like a dog, his come flooding me. I meet Gin’s eyes, her lips bowed around me… and then she drops down once more, opens her mouth around my cunt and takes me in, takes Nev’s dripping come into her mouth from the insides of my thighs.
“Fuck you’re so good,” I tell them both. And yet they make me come again. Her mouth, his dick still hard, still fucking. “”Oh fuck.”
If voice could shatter glass. But I’m no falsetto. I’m just a woman, a girl really, between them. Safe between them, my body shattering with pleasure, despite the tragedy of it all.
I’m myself, and outside myself, and I’m in them, and I’m held apart from them.
I’m in this morass they left for us to fix. I’m in starlight, and it’s bathing me clean.
~
We lie, together, under the silver-fog of dawn. Just a short sleep, to replenish what we’ve lost. Just a spoon, and a bigger spoon, and a little spoon, curled safe beneath the fronds of hibiscus and venomous tendrils and vines and tendrils (again appaertnly). We sleep with soft breath, ready to wake, ready to persevere.
I drip with them. I shun cleaning spells like this, with them. Why wouldn’t I cling to their scent? It’s the way they claim me, and I need to be claimed.
I hear birdsong, and I know our time is short. I curl around his back and feel Giiny’s arms tighten in sleep, not wanting to lose me, even in a dream, a fiction of us.
I grasp onto her, pull her arms around me stronger.
They sleep while I remain awake. And I hear the birds singing like there’s nothing wrong with the world.
I want to believe them.
I want.
For just a moment, I close my eyes. And I drift on it. Their bodies close, heartbeats strong. And us. Still here. Still breathing.
The rain starts as a patter, as nothing .It builds, so much percussion against the glass ceiling above.
I close my eyes, birdsong defiant over our bodies like a blanket, like a lullaby to wake to. If we ever wake from this.Thunder rumbles in the distance, over the hills guarding the lake, the castle, these fragile psyches we’re in charge of.
My lovers sleep against my body. They make noises in their dreams. I want nothing more than to melt into tt oblivion they provide in the den of their arms. Gin snuffles against my back, and I wonder if this is all there is. If I’m anything more than this, a safe harbor, a bed, a place to bury the pain. I wonder. If we are ourselves or something else. Something longed for, always beyond our fingertips’ retrieval.
I wonder.
If anything comes after.
♥
Date: 2022-04-25 06:09 pm (UTC)Solid name for them!
The mood of this whole piece... haunting.
Re: ♥
Date: 2022-05-02 01:01 am (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and leaving me the lovely comment!
no subject
Date: 2022-04-29 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-05-02 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-04-30 01:29 am (UTC)*goes back to reread and make notes*
no subject
Date: 2022-04-30 02:01 am (UTC)Also, this made me LOL: Sometimes I’m late getting the potion done. What can I say? My hand slips. Oops! But when it’s Wolfsbane… yeah, it sort of matters, doesn’t it?
no subject
Date: 2022-05-02 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-06-26 09:23 pm (UTC)