Fic: We Won (Pansy/Neville, soft R)
Title: We won
Author: quietliban
Rating: soft R
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #44 Virtue
Word Count: ~750 words
Summary: The fighting is over, but Neville doesn't know what they've won.
Warnings: I think it's all fair to warn you that this is my attempt at smut. It fails spectacularly as smut, but is good for some angst.
Notes: For 100quills. Same drill as before, meant to sit within The End of All the Fighting 'verse. There is a list for it here.
We Won
The sheets slide against their bodies. Neville tries to slow his breathing and close his eyes. Pansy’s fingers trail soft patterns down his forearm and around his wrist. Neville shivers.
It’s over now. The fighting is over. Neville blinks.
Pansy’s breathing beside him is soft and steady. Neville listens to the cottage. He thinks that there should be celebrating. He thinks there should be parties with music, shouting and drunkenness. He thinks that it should be different now because it's over. He-Who-Must-Be-Named is dead and all the Death Eaters have been captured. He thinks that Pansy shouldn’t be sharing his bed anymore.
Neville shifts. Pansy glances over him. Her eyes meet his.
‘We won.’ Her words haunt him. ‘What did we win?’ he wants to ask, ‘Did we win freedom?’ Neville cannot say.
Pansy smiles-- it is a small smile and Neville is surprised to see it. He is surprised that she is smiling for him. He reaches across and runs his thumb down over her cheek following the curve of her cheekbones down to her chin. Her skin feels soft and fragile. His thumb is joined by his fingers and they continue down her neck and across her collarbones.
She is the one who kisses him this time with her tongue in his mouth-- warm, moist and demanding. Her fingernails scrap across his ear and bury themselves in his hair. Neville pulls away, opening his eyes. She leans over him and Neville can smell her-- tobacco, coffee and Pansy. He strokes her neck and leans up to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her forearm is heavy on his chest and Pansy trails kisses down his jaw.
It’s over, Neville thinks. Itsoveritsoveritsoveritsoveritsover.
He puts a hand on Pansy’s shoulder to push her away. She pulls away and stares at him. Neville misses her warmth immediately.
“It’s all right.”
Neville shakes his head but his grips softens and he leans forward to kiss her. Pansy meets his lips and slows them forcing Neville to take his time. Her hands slip down his shoulders and her fingertips trace over his flesh, teasing.
His hands curve around her hips and feel smooth skin which is cool and warm at the same time. Pansy pulls away from their kiss and leans her forehead against his smiling down at him.
Neville rolls them. His hands glide over her abdomen tracking patterns as he sucks on her collarbone, trailing kisses and licks down to the v-neck of her pyjama top. Pansy shivers under him and her eyes flicker close.
Neville watches her face, as his hand caresses the underside of her breast. Pansy sighs. Her hands play with the waistband of his pyjamas before changing direction and moving up. The hem of his t-shirt caught by her fingers and pulled up.
The night air is cool against his bare skin and Neville feels exposed. Pansy shifts and fingers drift over a nipple. He gasps.
Pansy kisses him. Their teeth clack as she pulls his mouth towards hers. Neville feels like she will consume him and he gasps again against her lips. One of her hands brushes his thighs and Neville feels awkward. He knows she can feel his hardened cock. “I-“ he tries to say but Pansy shakes her head.
“No, Neville.” She brings a finger to his lips. “I said it was alright.” She kisses him briefly. “Don’t try to be noble.”
Neville closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No.” He pushes her away and disentangles their limbs. Her can see the expression on her face fall. “I can’t, Pansy. I just can’t.”
Pansy stares at him before her eyes rake over his bare chest to his pyjama pants. “Your dick seems to disagree.”
Neville knows his jaw has dropped at her words. He struggles to reply. In the end he just stares at her before staring at the bed sheets.
Pansy stares at him. Her are lips bruised and swollen and a red mark starting to show on her collarbone. She huffs and crosses her arms.
Neville can feel the air press in on him. He feels sick and awkward. He doesn’t know what to do.
“I saw Bellatrix Lestrange today,” Neville says and it sounds odd to his ears; those words, that name, this situation. Pansy glances at him, waiting.
He doesn’t say anymore. He only watches when Pansy folds the sheets back over and grabs her wand and the packet of cigarettes off the bedside table.
Author: quietliban
Rating: soft R
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #44 Virtue
Word Count: ~750 words
Summary: The fighting is over, but Neville doesn't know what they've won.
Warnings: I think it's all fair to warn you that this is my attempt at smut. It fails spectacularly as smut, but is good for some angst.
Notes: For 100quills. Same drill as before, meant to sit within The End of All the Fighting 'verse. There is a list for it here.
We Won
The sheets slide against their bodies. Neville tries to slow his breathing and close his eyes. Pansy’s fingers trail soft patterns down his forearm and around his wrist. Neville shivers.
It’s over now. The fighting is over. Neville blinks.
Pansy’s breathing beside him is soft and steady. Neville listens to the cottage. He thinks that there should be celebrating. He thinks there should be parties with music, shouting and drunkenness. He thinks that it should be different now because it's over. He-Who-Must-Be-Named is dead and all the Death Eaters have been captured. He thinks that Pansy shouldn’t be sharing his bed anymore.
Neville shifts. Pansy glances over him. Her eyes meet his.
‘We won.’ Her words haunt him. ‘What did we win?’ he wants to ask, ‘Did we win freedom?’ Neville cannot say.
Pansy smiles-- it is a small smile and Neville is surprised to see it. He is surprised that she is smiling for him. He reaches across and runs his thumb down over her cheek following the curve of her cheekbones down to her chin. Her skin feels soft and fragile. His thumb is joined by his fingers and they continue down her neck and across her collarbones.
She is the one who kisses him this time with her tongue in his mouth-- warm, moist and demanding. Her fingernails scrap across his ear and bury themselves in his hair. Neville pulls away, opening his eyes. She leans over him and Neville can smell her-- tobacco, coffee and Pansy. He strokes her neck and leans up to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her forearm is heavy on his chest and Pansy trails kisses down his jaw.
It’s over, Neville thinks. Itsoveritsoveritsoveritsoveritsover.
He puts a hand on Pansy’s shoulder to push her away. She pulls away and stares at him. Neville misses her warmth immediately.
“It’s all right.”
Neville shakes his head but his grips softens and he leans forward to kiss her. Pansy meets his lips and slows them forcing Neville to take his time. Her hands slip down his shoulders and her fingertips trace over his flesh, teasing.
His hands curve around her hips and feel smooth skin which is cool and warm at the same time. Pansy pulls away from their kiss and leans her forehead against his smiling down at him.
Neville rolls them. His hands glide over her abdomen tracking patterns as he sucks on her collarbone, trailing kisses and licks down to the v-neck of her pyjama top. Pansy shivers under him and her eyes flicker close.
Neville watches her face, as his hand caresses the underside of her breast. Pansy sighs. Her hands play with the waistband of his pyjamas before changing direction and moving up. The hem of his t-shirt caught by her fingers and pulled up.
The night air is cool against his bare skin and Neville feels exposed. Pansy shifts and fingers drift over a nipple. He gasps.
Pansy kisses him. Their teeth clack as she pulls his mouth towards hers. Neville feels like she will consume him and he gasps again against her lips. One of her hands brushes his thighs and Neville feels awkward. He knows she can feel his hardened cock. “I-“ he tries to say but Pansy shakes her head.
“No, Neville.” She brings a finger to his lips. “I said it was alright.” She kisses him briefly. “Don’t try to be noble.”
Neville closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No.” He pushes her away and disentangles their limbs. Her can see the expression on her face fall. “I can’t, Pansy. I just can’t.”
Pansy stares at him before her eyes rake over his bare chest to his pyjama pants. “Your dick seems to disagree.”
Neville knows his jaw has dropped at her words. He struggles to reply. In the end he just stares at her before staring at the bed sheets.
Pansy stares at him. Her are lips bruised and swollen and a red mark starting to show on her collarbone. She huffs and crosses her arms.
Neville can feel the air press in on him. He feels sick and awkward. He doesn’t know what to do.
“I saw Bellatrix Lestrange today,” Neville says and it sounds odd to his ears; those words, that name, this situation. Pansy glances at him, waiting.
He doesn’t say anymore. He only watches when Pansy folds the sheets back over and grabs her wand and the packet of cigarettes off the bedside table.