A/N - My first time diving into the Hansy fandom. This is actually inspired from a Klaroline drabble I wrote a few years ago, I added a few things but it works so beautifully for them both. Let me know what you think.

They rarely play it anymore, not finding the need after three years to lay it all out on the table. There really isn't much to lay out anymore. The game had started as a method to get to know each other better without actually communicating. Quite ingenious on her part, honestly. Not that he'd ever tell her. There was a sense of comfort with each other now, each knowing of the others little quirks and habits, knowing what ticked the other off to the point they'd claw their own eyes out rather than suffer through it.

So it's a surprise to Harry when she requests to play it out of the blue, no rhyme or reason accompanying her request. It was a typically lazy Sunday; they had been lounging on the sofa watching a football match on the telly she'd only let him purchase a year ago. Her head in his lap and her body curled up under a blanket, they looked like a picture perfect couple. Pathetically domestic, Pansy would say.

When the whistle was blown and half time had started, Pansy had shifted to her back so she could look up at him. The curve of lips as she threw him a coy smile lead him to believe that this might turn out to be more than a Football-and-lounge Sunday. His favorite was the Football-Sex-Sunday. Nothing goes better with football than a good blowjob. Don't get ahead of yourself Harry. His brow lifted slightly as he gave her a mock glare to ask what she was on to.

"Let's play a game," she clicked her tongue, obviously having had her fill of sports and needing something else to entertain her pretty little head. When he only shook his head in question, his focus more on the television than her, she brought her manicured nails to drag over the bulk of his thigh. Soon enough, her hand moved further up his thigh as she got off his lap and settled herself next to him.

"Full disclosure?" She asked, with a little wink as her other hand came up to twine around his neck.

"Parkinson."

"Potter."

He controlled a snort at the extremely unbecoming pout she threw his way. Pansy Parkinson does not pout.

Curiosity got the better of him in the end. If she wanted to play Full Disclosure it probably meant he had done something that didn't quite sit well with her. And it was easier to find out like this than a screaming match. He decided to submit, maybe then she'd let him watch the match, or even better, continue her little tease to something more satisfying.

"Alright," he digressed, clearing his throat and straightening up in his seat, "As much as I love you in high heels Pansy, I'd prefer if you didn't throw them around like you do your clothes. It's rather uncomfortable to mistakenly sit on a 3 inch heel."

She looked only remotely troubled at his words, and moved her hand from his leg to his broad chest, shaking her head as she says, "I didn't mean that kind of full disclosure. A different kind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"A sexual kind."

And now he was definitely interested in this game, even the entire stadium spontaneously combusting into flames couldn't distract him from that.

"Again," he pressed, "Care to elaborate?"

"Same rules, you have to disclose something you've never been able to tell the other before. No judging, no comments – just the truth. But only of the sexual kind." She added in a purr.

"Are we talking complaints here because that I refuse to participate in. I'm bloody brilliant." he added fiercely causing her to scoff and roll her eyes, "Even you said so yourself." She bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out that it was one time, and she will never again allow such disgraceful words to leave her mouth.

He's still confused by the concept of the game, trying to determine the layout and rules and bullshit and she rolls her eyes in exasperation, knowing that he'll question her about the stupid rules before they get to the damn game. So she takes it on herself – and her hands – to get his attention.

"I'll start." She declared, sliding closer to him and smiling that sweet smile that had so much hidden beneath it, "Before we got together together, when we were just friends hanging out with Draco and Hermione – I used to fantasize about you."

He can't help but swallow at that, even though he doesn't like seeing the smug smirk on her face when she noticed his reaction.

"In the shower, at work, in bed – all the time." When he didn't respond, she continued with a Ha!-I-so-got-you smile on her lips, "One time when we were at dinner at Malfoy Manor. You showed up in your Aurur robes, your hair sticking up everywhere. I kept thinking about sitting on your face and messing up your hair and robes even more." Her smile widened when he shifted in his seat.

"Well you did do that soon enough." he smirked, raising his right hand to trace against her neck and throat, not ready to let her get so much control over him. The way her eyes hooded at the memory he felt a chill go up his spine. He hadn't been able to sit comfortably and eat a meal at the Manor without seeing her spread eagle on it like a goddamn buffet line after that little fantasy was fulfilled.

"Mmhmm," she murmured, slinging her leg over his side and straddling his lap, fitting her hips over him until she was comfortable, knowing very well what she was doing. "Now your turn."

He thought over it for a minute, finding it difficult to think of things he'd been restrained or skeptical of revealing. After being together for three years, and spending most of the first year shagging like rabbits there wasn't much they hadn't spoken of. So, he settled for something that might push this game into a more favorable ending. One that perhaps involved her spread over their brand new coffee table.

"I love it when you're on top." He bit, snorting inertly when her blue eyes widened in surprise at his confession. He'd never said that before, in fact he's always been the one wanting to be on top, dominating her with his body.

"Really? Why?"

"Explaining isn't part of the game." He pointed out.

She groaned and narrowed her eyes, "It is now. Tell me why."

"Only if you do."

"Fine." She relented.

"You look very sexy when you're in control, your hair wild, your lips parted –Venus Incarnate." He couldn't help but smile at the way her cheeks color slightly and she lowers her gaze. He can still make her blush. But then devious twinkle in her eye returns and he knows the snarky, snippy Parkinson is back. "Now you, explain."

"Well a) You're hot. b) I was insanely attracted to you. c) Being an aurur did wonders for you and d) did I mention you're hot?"

His cocky smile knew no bound and she can practically see his ego double in size. Her fingers trailed over his arms, lower and lower until they came to rest at the hem of his shirt, tugging on it and pulling it off of him, "Every time you disclose something you lose one item of clothing. New rule." She flashed him a wide smile and licked her lips, torturously grazing her nails over his abdomen.

"And who exactly made these rules?" he inquired, not that he cared, naked is his favorite type of attire for them anyways.

She shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm just making it up as we go. Now my turn."

She sucked her lower lip in her mouth as she thought over it for a second, before raising a perfect brow and lowering her mouth to his ear, "I loved it when we fucked in your office."

He hardened in an instant, having been at the precipice of a raging erection the minute she started this game. He was going to have that date etched on his tombstone. He had recently been promoted to Deputy Head Aurur and she'd shown up a week after to celebrate. Her definition of celebration of course involved a lacy red neglige and letting him press her up against his office window as he fucked her from behind.

He knew that this isn't even a real game but he's going to lose soon. A few more confessions like that and he's going to fling her on the bed, rip her clothes off and bury himself deep inside her until she's seeing stars and moaning his name.

She doesn't wait for him to demand her to remove her top, pulling it over her head and throwing it over his discarded shirt. His hands immediately come to skim over the freshly exposed skin as he shook his head to think of another thing to disclose.

"I get impossibly aroused when you're jealous." He quipped knowing it's going to make her a tad bit angry, but then again he gets even more aroused when she's angry – it's a win win here for him.

Her nose crinkled in displeasure as she glared at him, "I do not get jealous." She insisted.

"Pansy, you almost hexed Ginny last week because she was talking to me." He chided, thoroughly enjoying the way her eyes flame at the mention of Ginny.

Oh does he love her jealous!

If he wasn't so afraid for his sex life being put on hold he'd make her jealous on purpose.

"She wasn't just talking to you, she asked you to dance and was.. was..." she hissed in her defense, changing directions instantly "And Ginny isn't just anyone, she's your ex-fiance. She still thinks you're going to go back to her. I was not jealous, I just...I just.."

His face paled slightly at that, he was just being friendly to an old friend. Before he could assure her that no matter what Ginny's delusions he definitely did not want to go back to her, she smirked darkly and said something that set his blood on fire.

"How would you like it if you knew that Theo eye-fucked me every time we went to Draco's and suggested I join him on his sexcapade vacation to Belize?" She added spitefully, making an effort to get off his lap.

Well that escalated quickly.

Gripping her hips to keep her in place he fit her hand on the back of her to get her to look at him.

"Alright, alright." He conceded because as much as Jealous and Possessive Pansy gets him hard; it's also impossible to get her to calm down fast enough for him to get any relief. "I only meant that it's nice to see you get jealous after three years. Wrong example." He put his hands up in mock surrender, struggling to deal with something she had just said. "Does Theo really eye-fuck you? And Belize… I work with him, he knows we're together."

She rolled her eyes as she relaxed in his arms, "Yes. But he's not besotted with me, he's just Theo. Besides, you'd notice too if you and Draco weren't always fighting about everything."

Merlin, Theo was toast come Monday morning.

"Whatever," she said hastily ignoring his mumblings about right hooking Theo Fuck-face Nott, swiftly ridding him off his pants and climbing into his lap again, "Me again. I come the hardest when you spank me."

His resulting groan was equal parts embarrassing and frustrated.

He's so done with this game.

He's certain she can feel his erection against her thigh, if her smirk is anything to go by and he's also certain she's trying very hard to make him lose this game – even though it's not meant to have winners or losers. There's only one end to this game, and it's them rolling around under the sheets shagging their brains out.

But he is Harry fucking Potter. Boy who refused to die and Saviour of the Wizarding World. He doesn't give up so easy, not even when Pansy's grinding against his hard-on on purpose.

He doesn't wait for her to remove anything before he continues with the game.

"You're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted." And now he knew he had her; she can't stop the whimper that left her mouth or the way her eyes darken in lust, her core aching to let him have a knows her mind is debating whether to tell him to fuck off or to just simply fuck him. He decided to push it up a notch when he added, "I spent half our time as friends wondering what you'd taste like."

The feel of his rough hands on her back as he snapped her bra loose jolts her from her lust driven stupor, her back arching and a moan rippling from her throat when he bent his head to take her breast into his mouth, sucking on her pebbled nipple and nipping it with his teeth.

And like most of their battles, he's the one who wins. She forgot about the game and got off of him, shimming out of her shorts and standing almost naked in front of him. He stopped her hand when she goes to remove her lace green knickers, tugging her back down to the couch. Laying her down and crawling in between her legs, he proceeded to show her just how delicious he thinks she is. His tongue scraped over the damp cloth, his growls muffling against her core as his tongue and fingers slide her panties aside. His thumb circled her clit as his tongue lapped at her juices.

She was drenched and the way she mewled above him had him struggling to maintain control. Spreading her legs further apart, he pushed his tongue inside her, smiling slightly at her satisfied hiss.

"Harry…"

He wondered who got more pleasure from this, because the feel of her rocking against his mouth; wet and hot, moaning his name is enough to make him come then and there, and plus he's been ready for a while now. But he has more important things to think about right now, like her legs crossing over his neck almost strangling him and her hands tugging at his curls, shoving his head closer and closer to where she wants it. So he adhered to her aggressive yet silent demands, adding two of his fingers to the torture, sliding them into her heat and curling and scissoring them, just the way he knew she loved it, making her moan louder and arch into the air. His nose rubbed against her clit, his fingers working in tandem inside her, in a well set rhythm. Until he could feel her thighs clench around his neck, a strangled moan leave her lips in a mix with his name.

He could feel her climb around his fingers.

Higher and Higher.

A soft gasp escaped her as she finally came, her nails digging into his scalp. She smiled lazily when he kissed his way back to her lips that he can't help but chuckle and shake his head. If someone told him 4 years ago that he'd be willingly co-habitating with Pansy Fucking Parkinson he'd Avada them on the spot.

She sat up in an instant, patience be damned as she pulled her underwear down in one go, and gestured at him to do the same. Pushing him onto the sofa, she crawled in his lap and wrapping her small hand over his erection, sliding it up and down slowly and torturously, paying extra attention to the sensitive tip, smearing the pre-come in her fingers and squeezing lightly.

"Full disclosure?" she quipped.

He laughed, "We don't have any more clothes left to remove, woman."

She shrugged in response so he nodded, interested in seeing what she has to say. Right at this moment.

"I love you."

"That's not a secret." He said, his voice losing all the mirth and cockiness and taking a soft, emotional edge.

"I know, but I love saying it."

And then she raised her hips and slammed down on him before he can say anything, making him groan instead and instinctively thrust into her. Pulling back a little she leaned forward on his chest, resting her palms on his chest allowing him to slide in further. He did say he loved her on top, and as she bit her lower lip and started moving up and down on him, he knew what he wanted to say next.

"My turn," he grumbled out, quite surprised at how almost calm his tone was. Gripping her hips tightly, he stilled her movements as he said, 'I think I want to marry you one day."

Her eyes widened for exactly a second before they narrowed in what he can only describe as 'Oh-I've-got-you-by-the-balls-now-Potter" glare. Grinning, she licked her lips and bent down to give him a thorough snog. It was soft, and pliant until it wasn't and his hands sought out her ass she began to move on him again.

And from then on all coherent thoughts but Pansy left his brain as he pounded into her heat and sat up to mutter filth into her ear.

They would definitely be playing this game again.