Pansy had never been one for pretty words.
It was never her style; the young witch had always been painfully blunt, even when she flirted. She never toyed with clients or customers, never offered them sweet nothings to sweeten her Galleon bag or even to make a tip. Everything about her was short and to the point, just as she had liked it. It wasn't for lack of trying. At one point, she had tried to use her words like a trap as opposed to a weapon, and had attempted to lure others in with tantalizing promises. It had all been a lie and one many had seen through. After a customer had told her, quote, "Cut the shit" mid-dance, Pansy had dropped the facade for good.
Even with Zabini she had never been one for bullshit such as that, not like she was at this point.
The Chateau had been busy this shift, one of those nights that the workers could sink into the comfort of music and crowd activity. It had been easier that way, more natural, and of course, the more natural they acted the better they got paid. It didn't hurt that Lewis, the club's resident "mixologist" (as he had called himself), was feeling generous enough to let Pansy's bill slip into the trash can. She would never be one to pass on free drinks, and between her boozy friend, the sly redhead on her arm, and the patrons ogling them between paying for drinks, tonight was already off to a great night. Ginny giggled in what had to have been faux amusement as she twirled a chestnut lock between dainty fingers, a tall raven haired woman smirking at her own lame jokes.
This part didn't bother Pansy. It was their job after all; appease those who came in, set the boundary, yet give them what they want. Nonetheless she kept close tabs on the dark haired vixen who looked like she was going to devour Ginny in one bite. Hell, she might have been mistaken for one of the mistresses who frequented the Chateau had she been dressed similarly, though the dark leather pants and blouse that left little to the imagination were much too casual for this setting. Dark eyes met her own, and the sneer seemed to disappear, replaced with curiosity. "Care for a drink?", she offered, reaching to tuck a stray hair behind Ginny's ear while maintaining eye-contact. "That would be amazing, thank you so so so much!".
God she loved when she played into these idiot's ridiculous fantasies, and she loved it even more when the stupid school girl act was dropped as soon as they crossed the threshold to their shared flat.
"Three Dragon Drops, make them double. Put it under Velma".
"Velma, huh? God given?"
"If you consider me a God, sure."
Feisty, she had thought, and despite not usually being bothered by clientele flirting with her girlfriend, something about this woman was too close for comfort. She was too much like herself, and god damn that threatened the Chateau's most influential witch. Pansy's lips curled upwards in a smile, white teeth flashing in the way that a wolf would bare their fangs defending their prey. Velma's hand was lingering on her girl's cheek much longer than it needed to.
Velma wasn't a threat, and Pansy had to remind herself of that. The Dragon Drop's sour taste slid down her throat like vicious slime as she threw it back in one gulp, glancing at her girlfriend. Ginny hated those. She knew she did, and almost laughed triumphantly as she gave it a polite sip before setting it at the bar. Ginny watched as Velma turned her head to acknowledge Mistress Jade's lithe form writhing on the stage to their center, taking the opportunity to whisper into her girlfriend's ear. "She offered 50 Galleons for a private dance. Meet me at the bar in an hour?".
Had it not been her job, Pansy would have dug her heels in and refused. However, now was not the time to be picky, especially with that price tag. She took the opportunity to plant a quick kiss between her brows and give her hip a soft squeeze, turning her back so she didn't have to acknowledge her girl taking the stranger by the hand and leading her to one of the more secluded VIP booths to their left. It was then that she realized why the other woman was getting under her skin; she was nearly the spitting image of Pansy 5 years ago, right down to the animalistic sneer and long glossy locks. Her own hair had been cut into a bob at this point, shaved on one side and highlighted to look like an oil spill every time the lights hit it.
It took everything in her to ignore the giggles that rose over the music, her keen hearing so attuned to Ginny's laugh that she wanted nothing more than to snap her head in their direction and simply stare. The only thing keeping her restraint was the steady influx of drinks that Lewis continued to slide her way, a selection of fine Muggle whisky (which she never thought she would ever give a chance, let alone enjoy) and a scotch that turned iridescent every time it swirled in her glass. The music drowned out the sounds after what felt like hours, and she allowed herself to sink into it, running long fingers through dark locs and moving her hips in time with the beat.
Pansy didn't know whether it was hours or minutes or seconds before a warm palm rested itself against her bare back, startling her out of her trance. The room whooshed in and out of focus for a moment as the liquor all hit her at once, and it was her turn to giggle like a schoolgirl as she whipped to face a short, absolutely beautiful redheaded witch. Whether it was the alcohol or the jealousy still swirling in her blood, Pansy couldn't stop herself from wrapping her arms around her girlfriends middle and resting her head against her soft breasts. Even with the stacked heels, Ginny still towered over Pansy by a solid 6 inches, something Hermione never failed to chuckle at. Despite her height, she had the tenacity of a rabid honey badger, while the willowy Ginny was much more refined in her expression.
"Oh- hey, you okay?" Ginny asked, concern in her voice as she no doubt recognized the glaze of intoxication in Pansy's gaze. Another laugh bubbled from her lips, and she gazed over Ginny's shoulder in time to see a sheet of black hair turned from the lounge to stride towards the exit. Ignoring the question, she posed her own. "Did that bitch get too handsy with you?" Ginny gave a reassuring stroke down Pansy's back, lighting her skin on fire and causing her cheeks to flush. Gods, she was supposed to be the one doing this to Ginny, not the other way around. "Thank god, no, but she tipped an extra 10 Galleons to listen to me laugh at her lame attempts at humor. What a bore". Victory soared through her chest, though she swallowed it, meeting chocolate eyes that were almost as glazed as her own. "Are you drunk right now?" She asked, slurring her words slightly. Ginny's grin sent flutters through her stomach, down to her core even as wetness pooled in the lacy panties she donned. Jesus, this shouldn't affect her this much. "Is that even a question? C'mon, I think we should call it tonight. Lahotsky's for dinner?"
"I'd rather have you for dinner."
It was Ginny's turn to blush, though she said nothing as she grabbed Pansy's hand and money bag, leading them to the locker room exit reserved for Chateau dancers only. She dipped her head once to the bouncer, slipping him a few sickles and a galleon for their house fee before stepping into the fireplace that would have seemed so horribly out of place to any muggle that dared step foot behind the curtains. In a flourish of green Floo, the dizziness returned as Pansy spun, stumbling across the threshold of her own fireplace and meeting the familiarity of their flat.
It was almost cozy, if you ignored the Georgia O'Keef inspired art across the walls, piles of dishes that sat in the sink, the dog hair all over their couches, and the half finished paintings on the coffee table that they had started days ago but never finished. The curly-haired muggle who gave painting lessons Hermione had recommended to them was much too hard to follow for the two witches, and instead they spent their night flinging paint at each other and laughing at his ridiculous afro. Pansy's arm snaked around Ginny's waist, hand trailing to graze her small, tight ass cheek. A soft sigh caused her attention to snap up, as their black and white terrier cross seemed to roll his eyes at them before lowering his head back down on the couch. "Ungrateful mutt," Ginny purred as she scratched behind his small ears, and Pansy's heart tugged seeing so much compassion.
"You leave Quigly alone. He is a sweet baby angel and I refuse to listen to you slander his name."
"Quigly is an asshole who shit in your shoes just last week for not feeding him at 7 o' clock on the dot."
"Yeah, well, we don't know for sure it was him."
Pansy peeled her heels off, stripping out of the uncomfortable lingerie to stand stark-naked in their living room, flinging it down to the ground. It was an everyday affair to her. "If we pay for the place, we can do whatever we want here!". What wasn't an everyday affair though, was Ginny crossing the distance between them to stare deeply in Pansy's dark green eyes, pulling her nude form against her chest once more. "Thanks for keeping an eye on me tonight. I know that girl pissed you off from the moment she pulled that 'God' shit". Pansy stiffened involuntarily, though wrapped her arms around Ginny's waist to lean into the touch. She didn't ignore the dampness that persisted between her thighs, nor the hardening of Ginny's pierced nipples through the flimsy cloth as they pressed against her cheek.
"Always, love. Always."
Ginny smiled down at her, taking her larger hand in her own as she began to slowly lead them to the bedroom. Despite the disarray that the rest of their living space was, the bedroom was neat, sheets tucked in and bed made with scary accuracy. At least Molly Weasley had ingrained one thing about "cleanliness" into Ginny. Living with all boys sure taught one how to protect their own space. Pansy took a seat on the soft black comforter, never taking her eyes from her girlfriend as she began to remove her own uniform. A Slytherin green bodysuit, contrasting beautifully with milk-white skin and deep chestnut waves that fell over her shoulder like molten lava.
Their eyes never left one another as she undid every lace on the body suit, letting it pool at her feet. They were both drunk, the copious amounts of liquor being offered to them by Lewis doing its job very well indeed. For just a moment, the two women stared at each other, at their bodies. Ginny was much more willowy in comparison to Pansy, with square hips and a slender waist that led up to a much larger bust than one would assume just looking at her. Pansy was much more pear shaped, with a smaller bust and rounded hips, complete with a pouch of skin and tissue that laid over hidden abs. Her weight never bothered her; Ginny made sure to make her never doubt her beauty. Curves exacerbated by her seated position on the bed, Pansy didn't miss her partner lingering on where her thighs spread out, thick and pillowy.
The moment was too short, because in an instant, Pansy was on her feet and pressing her body against her partner's, tilting her head back to catch her in a kiss. Full lips met her own, and she nearly moaned with need. She wanted to ravish her. To devour every inch of her, starting with those beautiful red-tinged lips. Ginny's kiss was just as hungry, and she slipped her tongue out experimentally, catching Pansy's easier. It wasn't long before Pansy was smoothly lifting Ginny off of her feet, allowing the witch to wrap long legs around her hips before tossing both of them onto the bed. The kissing halted, but only for a moment.
"Is this okay?"
"Of course it is, dummy."
"Sober enough to consent?"
Ginny didn't even pause, just caught Pansy in another kiss, nodding into it. "Yes," her breath came out in a rapid gasp as Pansy caught the edge of her earlobe in her teeth, delighted in the goosebumps she felt along her girl's arm at the feeling, "just please - I want you so badly it hurts". She knew her like the back of her hand, knew the little spots to make her gasp and moan, could feel the slickness against her thigh as Ginny ground against it. At least the height difference was good for something.
Pansy was never one for flowery speech but in this moment, she wanted to compose sonnets, transcribe entire symphonies, to sing from the rooftops for the girl below her. Was this what true love really felt like? A swelling in one's heart, the desire to fill space with promises and truths but lacking the words to do so? Her throat felt so dry, and it was hard to speak, though she followed the witches every movement as she planted kisses along her body.
"Have I told you how lovely you looked tonight?". A kiss to her jaw. Another one, softer, along the nape of Ginny's neck. Ginny whined in response. "I could have spent the entire night just staring at you…just, god, Ginny, do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?". Lips pressed against her right collar bone, and then her left. A soft whimper escaped the redhead's lips though she said nothing. "Have I told you how much I love you today?" Her tongue darted out to lap Ginny's erect nipple, her back arching off of the bed in response. The kisses were trailing lower, down to the soft skin of her navel. "Have I told you how much I cherish you today?"
At that, the skin of Ginny's thigh began to flush, and should Pansy gaze up, she knew her girl would be blushing. She always did when Pansy praised her, no, worshipped her. What she didn't expect was Ginny to abruptly sit up, catching both sides of Pansy's face in her palms just as she was beginning to near the spot she really wanted to be eye-level with. They stared at each other, and Pansy felt drunk on her, not the alcohol. "Is it okay if we break our rough streak tonight? Really enjoy it?" A laugh barked out of Pansy, and she rested her hand atop Ginny's. "Baby, I want you more than you could ever know. I want to enjoy dinner."
She wasted no time gently placing her hands on her girlfriend's chest, lowering her down to the bed, hands lingering on the fullness of her breasts. God, she was magnificent. She was eye-level with Ginny's wet core, experimentally brushing her index finger along the apex at the top of it. The redheaded witch gave a soft moan in appreciation, grinding her hips to get more friction out of her. A finger wouldn't do though; she wanted to taste her, to feel that wetness against her mouth. And so she did.
The first lick was agonizingly slow. Slow enough that the whine that left Ginny's parted lips sent a wave of shivers down her own spine, gooseflesh appearing over the multitude of tattoos that littered her skin. And so she got to work, running her tongue along the soft, wet folds under Ginny was practically vibrating with need. She didn't want to be just licked there, and Ginny knew it, though it was so much more fun to drag it out at this point. Experimentally, Pansy slid her middle digit into the soft wetness that was her partner, grinning as her hips rose off the bed in response.
"Jesus, Pans, please, just go down on me."
"Easy, my Rose, let me do my job and you do yours".
Ginny's breaths were coming out more like pants now, moaning as Pansy slowly pumped the finger in and out, pausing only to add a second. She curled her fingers into soft spot along her inner walls, waiting for her girl to sing in response, to hear the moan escape her mouth. It was nearly as delicious as she was. Pansy rubbed her thighs together, hoping to alleviate the burning desire and need for release that she needed so badly. It could wait though. She needed Ginny to feel good.
Her face lowered once more to the folds, and from this angle, with fingers pumping in and out tantalizingly slow, her clit was easily found. She ran her tongue in slow circles around the bundle of flesh, almost moaning at the sweetness of it, of Ginny's cry of pleasure. Caution to the wind, she didn't want to take things slow. Needed to feel Ginny explode against her, to taste her pleasure erupting. And so she did, pumping the two fingers faster as her tongue swirled.
It felt like only seconds had passed, though Pansy was no fool, knowing she had spent minutes between her girlfriend's legs, pace increasing. Ginny felt like an ocean againsts her tongue, it wouldn't be long before she felt her climax approaching. She gave a soft suck to her clit, palming on breast in her hand and rolling the pink nipple between her free fingers. That was the key to Ginny Weasley, and in an instant, she was screaming Pansy's name as her climax found her. It came in waves that caused her legs to shake against the mattress, and Pansy didn't give up until the jerking had stopped and her face was soaked.
Rising from her position, Pansy scooted herself so that she was next to Ginny, though this didn't last long before the redhead was pulling her into her lap. Pansy straddled her, their foreheads pressed together as a thin sheen of sweat coated them. Ginny was still panting from the sheer intensity of the orgasm, though they just held each other, not a word passing between them. Ginny's fingers stroked absentmindedly down the tattoos, alternating between soft touches and her fingers winding through Pansy's short hair, massaging and scratching her scalp.
"Hey Pans?"
Pansy was nearly asleep at this, so content to just be held and cuddled that she almost missed the words. "Hmm?" she mumbled, burrowing her head into Ginny's neck and inhaling the sandalwood scent deeply.
"Let me make you feel like that tonight."
And in this moment, Pansy Parkinson knew only one thing: that she was madly, deeply, unconditionally in love with Ginny Weasley.
