Fic: "Nothing You Don't Want" (HP; McGonagall/Hooch)
Title: Nothing You Don't Want
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Minerva McGonagall/Rolanda Hooch (with background established McGonagall/Pomfrey)
Rating: Explicit/hard R
Content info: Infidelity, angst, anger, guilt, jealousy
Word Count: ~ 1400
Summary: Poppy's name, the pain of her own betrayal, should have sobered her. It did not.
Notes: Written for
daily_deviant; originally posted here. Thank you so much to Nnozomi for the speedy beta!
Rolanda caught her after the final Transfiguration lesson of the day, with a firm grip on her arm and two golden, pleading eyes. "We need to talk," she said, and Minerva let herself be steered down the hallway, towards a quiet niche in the wall past which no one was likely to walk. Rolanda almost pushed her into it and followed, casting a quiet Silencing Charm behind them, then a hiding spell.
Minerva straightened, her back to the wall, willing herself to keep calm as Rolanda's eyes met her own. Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes.
Then Minerva said, "We needed to talk?"
Rolanda swallowed visibly. "Yes," she said, "I think we do." But rather than saying more, she took a step forward, placing her hands on each side of Minerva's shoulders, and kept her gaze on Minerva's face. Minerva closed her eyes.
This was not supposed to happen.
"Rolanda," she said, hearing the hitch in her own breath and hating it. "It was a mistake. We both agreed on that."
"I know." Rolanda's voice was strange -- it sounded wistful and defiant at once. Minerva swallowed in turn.
"It only happened once," she said, as if to remind herself of this as much as Rolanda. "We were both inebriated, I believe. I thought we both wanted to forget the whole thing."
Rolanda gave a strange laugh at this. "Wanted to -- indeed!" Her voice softened, became almost pleading. "Minerva, look at me. Please."
Minerva could not help herself: she did as she was asked to. They stood there, so close their breaths mingled, Minerva still caught between Rolanda's arms. No, not caught -- Rolanda had cornered her, but there was no threat in it; if Minerva wanted to, she could easily get away.
If she wanted to.
She said, "I do love Poppy."
Rolanda's breath was hot against her cheek. "So do I. She's my friend."
"I can't do this to her," Minerva said, and now there was no point in pretending she was not trying to convince herself.
"You've already done it." Rolanda's face coloured a little, as if she was ashamed of her own ruthless honesty, but then her gaze hardened with heated determination. "Don't pretend you don't want it, Minerva. Don't pretend you don't want to do it again, just as much as I do."
Minerva fought with the impulse to close her eyes again, dismissing it as a coward's move. She kept her gaze locked in Rolanda's, the memories of that time -- just a week ago, a week full of regret and horror and shame -- surging through her, possibly radiating from her in guilty waves. She could not pretend, not to Rolanda, who was the only one who knew. Who had done this to her, to Poppy; who had made her do this to Poppy. Sweet, firm Poppy with her soft hands and Healer's smile, who'd wait for her in their parlour after dinner, so eager to ease the worries of Minerva's mind after a long day of work.
Rolanda moved closer. "I've been thinking of it all week." She leaned in and brushed her lips against Minerva's temple, a touch that made Minerva's knees tremble. "I've thought about having you in every corner of this castle. On the Quidditch pitch. In the staff room. On the high table." Her right hand moved from the wall, slipping down to rest against Minerva's waist. "Where everyone could see."
"Oh, God," Minerva whispered. Her face was hot, her pulse too high. "Please, Rolanda, don't do this."
"I wouldn't do anything you didn't want," Rolanda whispered back, her lips moving against Minerva's cheek. "It would be so good, even better than last week. The way you moved and cried my name... Minerva, it was fantastic. You were fantastic. Poppy never touches you that way, does she?"
Poppy's name, the pain of her own betrayal, should have sobered her. It did not. Minerva tipped her head back against the wall; Rolanda's mouth moved towards her ear. "Please," she said again, not quite sure what she was asking for. She felt Rolanda smile against her skin.
"Nothing you don't want," she murmured, slipping her hand inside Minerva's robes, finding one of her breasts and caressing it. "But you do want me to touch you. You want me to have you, right here and now."
It was madness. It was almost dinner -- Poppy would notice her absence. And even with the spells, someone might walk by...
Rolanda's lips moved over her skin again. Minerva turned her face and their mouths met. The kiss was fierce, hard, almost violent; Minerva spread her legs and pushed against Rolanda's warm, calloused hand, which was now resting on her hip. "Do it, then," she commanded, her voice crisp with angry desire.
Rolanda grinned in triumph and kissed her again. Her hand slid downwards, hot and strong and relentless; Minerva groaned and reached for Rolanda's face, cupping it in both hands. They kissed and kissed, gasping for breath in between, Rolanda's hand moving hard between Minerva's legs.
"You're going to think about this," Rolanda breathed. "You're going to want it again, aren't you? And again, and again." Her hand twisted, and Minerva cried out. "And again."
"I wish you wouldn't say such things," Minerva ground out, bucking against her. Rolanda's hand twisted again; this time Minerva was barely able to bite down on her scream. "I thought you were my friend," she groaned as she rode the hand. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Rolanda retorted, laughing darkly and biting her neck -- and oh, there would be a bruise, she must remember to spell it away afterwards -- "I was perfectly fine with being friends, until you invited me into your parlour last week."
"I was lonely." Minerva's words came out as gasps. "Poppy was away. And she never touches me quite like this, not like you're doing now, oh God, Rolanda..."
"You were lonely," Rolanda whispered fiercely. Her left arm was still braced against the wall, her eyes intense and hard, locked in Minerva's. "So you took pity on me."
"No, it wasn't like that --"
"You knew I wanted you," said Rolanda and bit her neck again, pressing her lips to the bite afterwards. "You knew I always wanted you and didn't do anything because you were Poppy's and Poppy is my friend. And then Poppy went away." She brought their mouths together in another angry kiss. "So easy to have me, wasn't it?"
"I just wanted your company," Minerva choked out. She was so close now, if Rolanda would keep moving her hand like that -- nothing mattered, except the movements of that hand. "I didn't plan it at all, I swear, Rolanda!"
"Swear all you like," Rolanda panted against her mouth. "Because I wanted you and I got you and now you won't be able to think about anything else for another week, at least..."
The words, accompanied by a final hard twist of Rolanda's hand, were too much -- Minerva squeezed her eyes shut, clutching at Rolanda's hair, and came with a strangled yelp, her body slumping backwards against the wall. "God," she gasped, barely aware that Rolanda was removing her hand and gently pulling away from Minerva's grip on her hair.
When she finally opened her eyes, Rolanda was standing a couple of feet away, the colour high on her cheeks. Minerva glanced downwards; Rolanda followed her gaze and shook her head. "No," she said with a mirthless laugh. "There's no time for that, I don't think."
Minerva nodded, slowly straightening on legs that were still shaking. She tried not to think about what she must look like, her face still flushed, her lips swollen and her hair in disarray. She must find the time to visit the ladies' room before dinner.
"Well," she said at last, looking at Rolanda as calmly as she could. "After you."
Rolanda shook her head again, removing the protective spells with a quick flick of her wand. "No, after you."
"Until later, then," Minerva said, immediately regretting the words. She went out into the hallway, a secret ache between her legs and in her heart, trying not to picture Poppy's warm smile, trying not to hear Rolanda's sad laugh behind her.
This entry was originally posted at http://miss-morland.dreamwidth.org/95998.html. You may comment there, if you like.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Minerva McGonagall/Rolanda Hooch (with background established McGonagall/Pomfrey)
Rating: Explicit/hard R
Content info: Infidelity, angst, anger, guilt, jealousy
Word Count: ~ 1400
Summary: Poppy's name, the pain of her own betrayal, should have sobered her. It did not.
Notes: Written for
daily_deviant; originally posted here. Thank you so much to Nnozomi for the speedy beta!
Rolanda caught her after the final Transfiguration lesson of the day, with a firm grip on her arm and two golden, pleading eyes. "We need to talk," she said, and Minerva let herself be steered down the hallway, towards a quiet niche in the wall past which no one was likely to walk. Rolanda almost pushed her into it and followed, casting a quiet Silencing Charm behind them, then a hiding spell.
Minerva straightened, her back to the wall, willing herself to keep calm as Rolanda's eyes met her own. Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes.
Then Minerva said, "We needed to talk?"
Rolanda swallowed visibly. "Yes," she said, "I think we do." But rather than saying more, she took a step forward, placing her hands on each side of Minerva's shoulders, and kept her gaze on Minerva's face. Minerva closed her eyes.
This was not supposed to happen.
"Rolanda," she said, hearing the hitch in her own breath and hating it. "It was a mistake. We both agreed on that."
"I know." Rolanda's voice was strange -- it sounded wistful and defiant at once. Minerva swallowed in turn.
"It only happened once," she said, as if to remind herself of this as much as Rolanda. "We were both inebriated, I believe. I thought we both wanted to forget the whole thing."
Rolanda gave a strange laugh at this. "Wanted to -- indeed!" Her voice softened, became almost pleading. "Minerva, look at me. Please."
Minerva could not help herself: she did as she was asked to. They stood there, so close their breaths mingled, Minerva still caught between Rolanda's arms. No, not caught -- Rolanda had cornered her, but there was no threat in it; if Minerva wanted to, she could easily get away.
If she wanted to.
She said, "I do love Poppy."
Rolanda's breath was hot against her cheek. "So do I. She's my friend."
"I can't do this to her," Minerva said, and now there was no point in pretending she was not trying to convince herself.
"You've already done it." Rolanda's face coloured a little, as if she was ashamed of her own ruthless honesty, but then her gaze hardened with heated determination. "Don't pretend you don't want it, Minerva. Don't pretend you don't want to do it again, just as much as I do."
Minerva fought with the impulse to close her eyes again, dismissing it as a coward's move. She kept her gaze locked in Rolanda's, the memories of that time -- just a week ago, a week full of regret and horror and shame -- surging through her, possibly radiating from her in guilty waves. She could not pretend, not to Rolanda, who was the only one who knew. Who had done this to her, to Poppy; who had made her do this to Poppy. Sweet, firm Poppy with her soft hands and Healer's smile, who'd wait for her in their parlour after dinner, so eager to ease the worries of Minerva's mind after a long day of work.
Rolanda moved closer. "I've been thinking of it all week." She leaned in and brushed her lips against Minerva's temple, a touch that made Minerva's knees tremble. "I've thought about having you in every corner of this castle. On the Quidditch pitch. In the staff room. On the high table." Her right hand moved from the wall, slipping down to rest against Minerva's waist. "Where everyone could see."
"Oh, God," Minerva whispered. Her face was hot, her pulse too high. "Please, Rolanda, don't do this."
"I wouldn't do anything you didn't want," Rolanda whispered back, her lips moving against Minerva's cheek. "It would be so good, even better than last week. The way you moved and cried my name... Minerva, it was fantastic. You were fantastic. Poppy never touches you that way, does she?"
Poppy's name, the pain of her own betrayal, should have sobered her. It did not. Minerva tipped her head back against the wall; Rolanda's mouth moved towards her ear. "Please," she said again, not quite sure what she was asking for. She felt Rolanda smile against her skin.
"Nothing you don't want," she murmured, slipping her hand inside Minerva's robes, finding one of her breasts and caressing it. "But you do want me to touch you. You want me to have you, right here and now."
It was madness. It was almost dinner -- Poppy would notice her absence. And even with the spells, someone might walk by...
Rolanda's lips moved over her skin again. Minerva turned her face and their mouths met. The kiss was fierce, hard, almost violent; Minerva spread her legs and pushed against Rolanda's warm, calloused hand, which was now resting on her hip. "Do it, then," she commanded, her voice crisp with angry desire.
Rolanda grinned in triumph and kissed her again. Her hand slid downwards, hot and strong and relentless; Minerva groaned and reached for Rolanda's face, cupping it in both hands. They kissed and kissed, gasping for breath in between, Rolanda's hand moving hard between Minerva's legs.
"You're going to think about this," Rolanda breathed. "You're going to want it again, aren't you? And again, and again." Her hand twisted, and Minerva cried out. "And again."
"I wish you wouldn't say such things," Minerva ground out, bucking against her. Rolanda's hand twisted again; this time Minerva was barely able to bite down on her scream. "I thought you were my friend," she groaned as she rode the hand. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Rolanda retorted, laughing darkly and biting her neck -- and oh, there would be a bruise, she must remember to spell it away afterwards -- "I was perfectly fine with being friends, until you invited me into your parlour last week."
"I was lonely." Minerva's words came out as gasps. "Poppy was away. And she never touches me quite like this, not like you're doing now, oh God, Rolanda..."
"You were lonely," Rolanda whispered fiercely. Her left arm was still braced against the wall, her eyes intense and hard, locked in Minerva's. "So you took pity on me."
"No, it wasn't like that --"
"You knew I wanted you," said Rolanda and bit her neck again, pressing her lips to the bite afterwards. "You knew I always wanted you and didn't do anything because you were Poppy's and Poppy is my friend. And then Poppy went away." She brought their mouths together in another angry kiss. "So easy to have me, wasn't it?"
"I just wanted your company," Minerva choked out. She was so close now, if Rolanda would keep moving her hand like that -- nothing mattered, except the movements of that hand. "I didn't plan it at all, I swear, Rolanda!"
"Swear all you like," Rolanda panted against her mouth. "Because I wanted you and I got you and now you won't be able to think about anything else for another week, at least..."
The words, accompanied by a final hard twist of Rolanda's hand, were too much -- Minerva squeezed her eyes shut, clutching at Rolanda's hair, and came with a strangled yelp, her body slumping backwards against the wall. "God," she gasped, barely aware that Rolanda was removing her hand and gently pulling away from Minerva's grip on her hair.
When she finally opened her eyes, Rolanda was standing a couple of feet away, the colour high on her cheeks. Minerva glanced downwards; Rolanda followed her gaze and shook her head. "No," she said with a mirthless laugh. "There's no time for that, I don't think."
Minerva nodded, slowly straightening on legs that were still shaking. She tried not to think about what she must look like, her face still flushed, her lips swollen and her hair in disarray. She must find the time to visit the ladies' room before dinner.
"Well," she said at last, looking at Rolanda as calmly as she could. "After you."
Rolanda shook her head again, removing the protective spells with a quick flick of her wand. "No, after you."
"Until later, then," Minerva said, immediately regretting the words. She went out into the hallway, a secret ache between her legs and in her heart, trying not to picture Poppy's warm smile, trying not to hear Rolanda's sad laugh behind her.
This entry was originally posted at http://miss-morland.dreamwidth.org/95998.html. You may comment there, if you like.