love is a poverty you couldn't sell
Title: you wouldn't know what to say to yourself
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genres: angst
Characters: Lionel Lovegood, Marlene McKinnon
Note: This is smut.
Her lips catch his in the hallway between classes. Fumbling, pushing him backwards into an empty classroom before anyone sees.
Marlene breaks away for a minute to charm the door locked, but before Lionel can choke out the startled questions forming in his mind, she kisses him again. She grabs at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, closer.
Any self resolve, self respect, self pity that was keeping Lionel back shatters, and he steps forward, kissing back and shutting his eyes against reality.
They stumble silently and end up with Marlene pressed against the wall. His mouth moves from hers down to where her neck meets her shoulder.
Rain is pouring down outside, and it hits him. This isn’t about love or lust or any of those things they tell you about. This is guilt. This is Marlene giving him one chance, just one.
Lionel smiles ruefully into her neck, and pushes her harder into the wall. Breathes words she can’t quite understand when they’re formed halfway between curses and sweet nothings. His teeth graze her soft skin and Marlene gasps, then presses a hand against her lips because she won’t say his name, won’t make this real.
He presses her harder against the wall, it half hurts and half pleases her, and she’s not sure what she’s gotten herself into. Marlene decides to not think about it, just kisses him again, gropes for his collar and tugs on it.
His fingers slip under her school shirt, running over her stomach, her ribs, higher. She isn’t sure what comes over her just then, but next thing she knows, she’s pulling his shirt untucked, undoing the buttons.
They stop for a second, freeze and look at each other. Lionel shakes his bangs out of his eyes, and looks like he wants to say something, but Marlene can’t let him do that, can’t let him think this is anything but a one-time opportunity, can’t let her own mind wander to maybe-coulds or possibilities. So she pulls his lips back down onto hers, and they continue, faster now.
Somewhere along the line, his hand pushes her skirt up, holds her thigh. Lionel kisses her, hard, and pushes inside of her. He is surprised when he realizes he isn’t her first, but Marlene makes that gasping-sighing noise that sends electricity from his throat to his lower stomach, so he doesn’t say anything, just keeps going.
Marlene doesn’t make a sound when she comes, just bites her lip and closes her eyes and digs her fingernails into his arm until it’s over. She waits until he’s done too, hardly a second later, before pulling away from him and dressing, quickly. Marlene looks at him once, almost like she’s sorry, but then she rushes out the door.
Lionel waits five minutes, then leaves as well. He ends up fifteen minutes late for Charms, and doesn’t pay attention all class, just stares out the window at the rain and thinks about how she didn’t say his name once.
When he sees her down at dinner that evening, they both pretend like nothing happened, because really, nothing did.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genres: angst
Characters: Lionel Lovegood, Marlene McKinnon
Note: This is smut.
Her lips catch his in the hallway between classes. Fumbling, pushing him backwards into an empty classroom before anyone sees.
Marlene breaks away for a minute to charm the door locked, but before Lionel can choke out the startled questions forming in his mind, she kisses him again. She grabs at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, closer.
Any self resolve, self respect, self pity that was keeping Lionel back shatters, and he steps forward, kissing back and shutting his eyes against reality.
They stumble silently and end up with Marlene pressed against the wall. His mouth moves from hers down to where her neck meets her shoulder.
Rain is pouring down outside, and it hits him. This isn’t about love or lust or any of those things they tell you about. This is guilt. This is Marlene giving him one chance, just one.
Lionel smiles ruefully into her neck, and pushes her harder into the wall. Breathes words she can’t quite understand when they’re formed halfway between curses and sweet nothings. His teeth graze her soft skin and Marlene gasps, then presses a hand against her lips because she won’t say his name, won’t make this real.
He presses her harder against the wall, it half hurts and half pleases her, and she’s not sure what she’s gotten herself into. Marlene decides to not think about it, just kisses him again, gropes for his collar and tugs on it.
His fingers slip under her school shirt, running over her stomach, her ribs, higher. She isn’t sure what comes over her just then, but next thing she knows, she’s pulling his shirt untucked, undoing the buttons.
They stop for a second, freeze and look at each other. Lionel shakes his bangs out of his eyes, and looks like he wants to say something, but Marlene can’t let him do that, can’t let him think this is anything but a one-time opportunity, can’t let her own mind wander to maybe-coulds or possibilities. So she pulls his lips back down onto hers, and they continue, faster now.
Somewhere along the line, his hand pushes her skirt up, holds her thigh. Lionel kisses her, hard, and pushes inside of her. He is surprised when he realizes he isn’t her first, but Marlene makes that gasping-sighing noise that sends electricity from his throat to his lower stomach, so he doesn’t say anything, just keeps going.
Marlene doesn’t make a sound when she comes, just bites her lip and closes her eyes and digs her fingernails into his arm until it’s over. She waits until he’s done too, hardly a second later, before pulling away from him and dressing, quickly. Marlene looks at him once, almost like she’s sorry, but then she rushes out the door.
Lionel waits five minutes, then leaves as well. He ends up fifteen minutes late for Charms, and doesn’t pay attention all class, just stares out the window at the rain and thinks about how she didn’t say his name once.
When he sees her down at dinner that evening, they both pretend like nothing happened, because really, nothing did.