A/N: I'm not JKR, but imagine her having a FF!

Written for babygirl121896 's Unusual Pairs Challenge.

Seamus/Fleur with the prompt: Soccer.

Well it really had been a lucky break, Seamus though with little to no remorse. He had a knack for being in the right place at the right time, at least that's what happened here of course. Maybe he'd been slipped Felix, he thought again, for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. But he settled into the squashy armchair by the fire with a satisfied expression on his face nevertheless.

"What are you grinning at?" Dean asked, scowling. "You just won a game of soccer." And he grumbled something about being beat at his own game incoherently.

But Dean didn't know what'd happened when he'd stepped off the field, so Seamus took his mutterings in stride.

Gods what a turn of events.

Dean had taken Seamus out of his peaceful relaxation earlier that day, holding up a foreign looking black and white ball. "Come on," he said, dragging Seamus onto the grounds, "I'm going to finally beat you at a sport."

At first the Irish boy had been surly and whinny, but as Dean continued his brief monologue (probably leaving out a few details like the cheat he was), Seamus had complied with a sort of amused interest.

And amused interest suited him well. Dean lost the one-on-one game 60:12, Seamus delighted at this turn for the best- and new bragging material at that as well. It turned out that the other Gryffindor was a sore loser though, and he left Seamus to put everything away.

This left him dumbfounded.

Tangled in nets and jerseys, he'd become a short fuse when distinctly saw a flutter of gold and blue.

"I waz watching your game." Said a voice that could break hearts.

Beauxbatons? No, it was that champion: Fleur.

Seamus felt his face grow red at being found in such a mess.

Fleur however seemed to find it funny, and with a flick of her slim wand the mess was cleared, much to Seamus' embarrassment. He was at a loss for what to say, and just muttered, "thanks," shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Fleur seemed to be sizing him up, but when she didn't hasten to say anything he made to leave.

"You were veery good." She said.

Seamus swelled at that and had to refrain from saying, "I know." He felt oddly light-headed.

The girl steeped closer and said something about nerves for the second task and needing a proper release, but he didn't much hear her because she'd closed the distance between them and her lips were fluttering dangerously close to his.

Seamus was just about to ask what- but as he opened his mouth she promptly shoved a silky tongue down his throat in such an amazing way. He was surprised to note that the noises he hear were coming from himself- moans of approval and askance.

The part-Veela gave no room for thought though. She began tearing at his clothes, and more eagerly, his jeans. Her own blouse came off like watery material and slid to the itchy grass at their feet to reveal a sight that left Seamus gasping for breath.

Fleur had not even been wearing a lacy bra, which Seamus had expected of her. Two freshly and nicely proportioned mounds greeted his hungry eyes, each tipped with a rosy pink nub, which he fancied devouring.

Fleur seemed to have read his mind however, and pulled the ears of the younger boy, bringing him level with the smooth skin that was making his mouth water.

Having no prior experience with this sort of thing he sort of lamely just took one shakily into his mouth. And oh...it tasted like perfume and skin and made his heart hammer in his throat...among other places. A sort of squeal left Fleur's mouth though, telling him he'd done well enough, and feeding the flame in his pants.

She grasped his hand firmly in hers, though his had been shaking a mile a minute. She took it and pressed it to a slit in her knickers, and Seamus could feel a wetness meet his fingers.

The Veela sucked in a breath at this and pushed Seamus to the ground, following suit. He continued to rub at her as she rolled to situate him on top of herself. Fumbling for the first time, she undid his Muggle jeans and reached in for his hard cock. He returned the noises she'd been making moments before.

His brain was reeling at the pleasant turn of events. He didn't want to think, but it was inevitable. Had she mistaken him for someone else? Was she drugged or unwilling? But it didn't seem to matter once she grunted up at him, clearly expecting him to do what he'd only seen in naughty magazine, like the ones currently residing in his trunk up in Gryffindor tower. Such a long ways away.

Below him she looked so sweet to the taste, and anxious. Though it probably wasn't her first time. What exactly was she expecting? Did she use precautions? Did she want romance and flowers? Pondering on the thought, he bent down to kiss her, but before he could she clutched his hips with her long flawless legs and urged his cock closer to her wetness.

Nervously Seamus took her lead and starting thrusting in her general direction. Once embedded firmly in the smooth, shaven cunt, he searched for her hole emitting this sticky wetness, without his sense of sight.

When he'd found it and, nervously looking at her face, thrust inward she gasped. Thinking he'd hurt her (and still trying not to think) he began pulling out, but she pushed herself onto him; a gasp turning into a hearty and hoarse moan.

The rest of the time Seamus felt too dazed in pleasure that he couldn't exactly recount- but he knew his hand would never exactly be a sufficient substitute after this.

Afterward Fleur was completely shameless and unabashed; pulling on her clothes, and cleaning the two of them up, before kissing Seamus on the cheek.

Then she flounced away and Seamus was sorry, but also slightly aroused again, to see the back of her.

Clambering back into the portrait hole, still dazed, Seamus was immediately bombarded by Dean. "What took you so long?" He'd asked, but the sandy-haired boy just smiled in return.

He was sincerely hoping that Fleur would have more pre-task nerves for the third task, and that he could experience the lovely turn of events that he'd become accustomed to once more.