Ficlet: You Can Handle It
You Can Handle It
SS/HG
Rated R for generalized smut, school-age Hermione (7th year, just prior to Graduation)
Disclaimer: Two words: As if.
Author's Note: The "generalized smut," as I so eloquently put it, is the very end of a sex scene (that isn't included, you smut addicts, ;P ), but the point is the dialogue after the fact. And Hermione is two months before graduation.
Thanks to WonderfulWrites for taking a peek at this for me. Obviously, I'm not nearly as betalicious as she thinks I am ;)
Summary: An exasperated Snape tries to figure out a perplexing Hermione's logic.
You Can Handle It
By Sophi
She shuddered above him a second time as she rode out their climaxes, his fingers digging painfully into her hips as he held her in place. As the last tremors left them, he dropped his hands and she fell forward, resting her forehead against his, panting lightly.
They stayed like that for several moments, and he wondered cautiously if she’d stay with him for a while longer tonight. It was rare that she did; it normally involved much bribery on his part to get her to decide to stay, often in terms of sexual favors… many sexual favors.
Not that he minded.
She chose that moment to hop (half-literally, he supposed) off the bed and, as a result, him, picking up her robes and redressing as if she hadn’t been shagging him within an inch of his life just three minutes prior.
“Why don’t you ever stay, woman, especially if you simply plan on coming back after dinner?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
She turned around and looked at him as if she were surprised he was there. He snorted mentally; in his rooms, of all places.
“Because, we have to keep up appearances,” she said, dropping a kiss on his forehead as she plucked her wand off the nightstand.
“You are aware that your rooms are fully equipped with a floo, and nobody would ever notice if you were missing?” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, well,” she said, fiddling with the clasp of her cloak, “I only needed just that, is all.” She said it as if it were a completely reasonable response.
“Then why didn’t you just take care of it yourself?” he asked, exasperated. As endearing as she - and her arse, he added mentally - were, her rationale was sometimes grating.
She looked up from her cloak questioningly, then grinned. “Because,” she replied, smirking, “it’s so much more fun when someone else does it for you.”
With that, she threw a handful of floo powder into the grate and grabbed her bag. “It’s only two more months, Severus, you can handle it.” She stepped into the green flames and was gone.
Severus groaned and fell back against the pillow. More fun indeed.
SS/HG
Rated R for generalized smut, school-age Hermione (7th year, just prior to Graduation)
Disclaimer: Two words: As if.
Author's Note: The "generalized smut," as I so eloquently put it, is the very end of a sex scene (that isn't included, you smut addicts, ;P ), but the point is the dialogue after the fact. And Hermione is two months before graduation.
Thanks to WonderfulWrites for taking a peek at this for me. Obviously, I'm not nearly as betalicious as she thinks I am ;)
Summary: An exasperated Snape tries to figure out a perplexing Hermione's logic.
You Can Handle It
By Sophi
She shuddered above him a second time as she rode out their climaxes, his fingers digging painfully into her hips as he held her in place. As the last tremors left them, he dropped his hands and she fell forward, resting her forehead against his, panting lightly.
They stayed like that for several moments, and he wondered cautiously if she’d stay with him for a while longer tonight. It was rare that she did; it normally involved much bribery on his part to get her to decide to stay, often in terms of sexual favors… many sexual favors.
Not that he minded.
She chose that moment to hop (half-literally, he supposed) off the bed and, as a result, him, picking up her robes and redressing as if she hadn’t been shagging him within an inch of his life just three minutes prior.
“Why don’t you ever stay, woman, especially if you simply plan on coming back after dinner?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
She turned around and looked at him as if she were surprised he was there. He snorted mentally; in his rooms, of all places.
“Because, we have to keep up appearances,” she said, dropping a kiss on his forehead as she plucked her wand off the nightstand.
“You are aware that your rooms are fully equipped with a floo, and nobody would ever notice if you were missing?” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, well,” she said, fiddling with the clasp of her cloak, “I only needed just that, is all.” She said it as if it were a completely reasonable response.
“Then why didn’t you just take care of it yourself?” he asked, exasperated. As endearing as she - and her arse, he added mentally - were, her rationale was sometimes grating.
She looked up from her cloak questioningly, then grinned. “Because,” she replied, smirking, “it’s so much more fun when someone else does it for you.”
With that, she threw a handful of floo powder into the grate and grabbed her bag. “It’s only two more months, Severus, you can handle it.” She stepped into the green flames and was gone.
Severus groaned and fell back against the pillow. More fun indeed.