(no subject)
Author: light_music formerly known as msscribe.
Title: Compliments
Prompt: Hermione goes fishing for compliments, and gets more than she bargained for.
Summary: Well, when Hermione goes fishing for compliments, Harry gives her more than she bargained for. LOL. My summaries are the bestest! Yay!
Words: 1700
Other ships (if applicable): None
Rating: Hard R
Notes: Just a fun little ficlet. Had to get a little smutty. :P
“It’s Eileen, isn’t it?”
The woman stands in front of the bar, smiling sweetly as she adjusts her sweater in false modesty.
“Sir, if I had the tickets to sell, I’d certainly sell them to you…and your friend,” she says, her face turning sour as she glances over at Hermione.
But Hermione has the persistence of bad weather today.
“Am I hearing you correctly? I saw you let two people in just a minute ago. Now you’re going to tell me that all of the tickets are gone?”
“They’re gone, Miss. I had thought that my English was rather clear.”
I grab Hermione’s wrist. I am almost sure she would never reach for her wand, but I grab it just in case, and pull her away before Eileen becomes the newest candidate for an obliteration charm. She is furious, and stomps off a couple of feet in front of me.
“We plan to go to this concert together for months, and you can’t even remember to buy tickets in advance? Did you really think that flirting with…”
“Eileen…”
“Yes!” She looks at me and her eyes narrow a little. “Did you really think that flirting with her would get us in, Harry? So now Ron is alone, in a muggle concert hall, with absolutely no idea how to act…”
I chuckle, despite my attempts not to. She sighs, clenching her teeth.
“I’m sorry. I am. Things got really busy at the Ministry…”
Hermione’s hair is coming out of whatever configuration she had it in earlier as she begins to walk away from me again.
“What if I try to get tickets to the show next week? My treat,” I say, wondering silently if those were sold out as well.
“How?”
I catch up with her. “I’ll find a way.”
“Oh? And if they’re sold out are you going to go on about the ticket girls eyes? Or maybe how her sweater looks on her, like you did with whatshername.”
Her voice is quiet.
“Eileen.”
“Yes,” she says, slowing down some.
“I was just trying to get us tickets. I wasn’t interested in her.”
This is an odd conversation for us.
“We had better wait back at my apartment. Ron’s bound to show up when we don’t.”
I nod, and we walk in awkward silence back to her flat. When I suggest we apparate, Hermione only mumbles about not being in a hurry to get there.
My patience with her mood is wearing thin, but when she’s in a mood like this, there is just no arguing with her.
#
An hour later, Ron shows up at the apartment looking disheveled and exhilarated. Someone has apparently taught him how to play air guitar. I laugh. I can’t help it. Hermione seems a bit put out, but she lets a weak smile slip through. It’s obvious that he’s been drinking.
“There…there was this woman, her name was Candy, and she had the most amazing tits, Harry…” Ron says, lying back on the couch. “Oh, Hermione. I mean, her tits were out of a magazine.”
“I don’t care, Ron.”
Ron smiles. “Right. Sorry.”
I laugh again, and Hermione goes into the kitchen.
“She had wonderful cleavage, Harry. They were so big, and beautiful, and perfect…”
“You need to sleep it off, mate,” I say, shaking my head as he gestures in the air with his hands.
Then, Ron begins to tell me about the concert. I call to Hermione that Ron is no longer talking about Candy and is giving details about the concert, but she stays in the kitchen.
“The music was bad. Really bad, Harry. My ears hurt so I left early, and that’s when I met Candy. We went for drinks,” he says, his words jumbled.
“Candy, huh? Bet she was pretty sweet.”
There was a loud noise. Pots falling down- or being tossed around.
“Um, be back in a minute, Ron.”
Ron closes his eyes, laughing. “Candy…”
I go into the kitchen and Hermione is leaning against the counter.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Cleavage…”
“What?”
I wonder if she wants me to laugh, but I decide not to risk it.
“Cleavage. Eileen’s cleavage, Candy’s cleavage. It’s as if my breasts are completely invisible. I have a new sweater on and I have cleavage! They aren’t that small!”
They aren’t small at all. I attempt to think of a way to say it without getting smacked, but I just stand there, my eyes wide.
“They’re fine.”
Hermione opens the icebox and grabs a butterbeer. “Do you want one?”
“No thanks.”
She pops the can and takes a gulp. “I think I’ll drink it in here. Ron’s had enough.”
I peek into the other room and Ron is snoring loudly. “That he has.”
She sits up on the counter. Her hair is back to its normal state of disarray, but something else is different. I’m suddenly feeling clever.
“I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Your new sweater and…well, your cleavage.”
She laughs, but its nervous laughter. For some reason, this only eggs me on. If complimenting her cleavage will put her in a better mood, I’m more than willing to comply.
“Hermione, your cleavage is like two pillows in love; two ripe apples waiting to be picked.”
I tug on the neck of her sweater, knowing I’m now in dangerous territory. She pushes me away. “Harry!”
“Your cleavage looks like… looks like two beautiful worlds colliding to make the one true cleavage.”
“Shut up!” She says, smiling. It’s the first time she’s genuinely smiled all night.
“Your cleavage will one day save the world. Evil will be absorbed by it and transformed into good.”
I’m on a roll, but I’m having a difficult time staying focused. There is a tension underneath of our banter. She snorts, taking another sip. “This cleavage has already helped save the world once. Well, actually not my cleavage.”
I shrug. “You never know. I always suspected Voldemort had gotten distracted by something.”
She spews butterbeer. She’s giggling, sounding more and more unlike herself.
“Thank you, Harry.”
Hermione looks at me, her eyes dark and a little shiny. My face flushes and I look away.
“You’re quite welcome.”
Hermione adjusts herself, just like Eileen had done earlier, and before I can help it I find myself staring.
“I only recently started wearing things to show off my figure. I do have one, you know.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, except for Ron snoring. I think about kissing her.
“I noticed,” I say, and my heart starts beating fast. My mouth feels funny. I decide to kiss her on the cheek. It’s a safe bet.
Hermione meets me halfway, tipping her head to the side. She takes my hand and squeezes it, and I hold her for a few seconds, but my body decides to betray me so I pull away so that she won’t notice.
But she does.
She pulls me in and kisses me quickly on the mouth. I let my mouth open and I can taste the sweet butterbeer. Then we kiss again, this time so hard our teeth knock together. I hold her back and she holds mine until we finally take a breath and pull apart and my heart is racing and Ron is snoring and I grab her hips and whisper her name.
Hermione’s eyes are taking me in so completely. It’s funny. We are so close that kissing her doesn’t even feel like ‘moving forward’. I have goose pimples on my arms and legs.
“I should compliment you more often…”
"Yes, you should."
"I promise that - "
“Shhh.” She puts her finger over my lips. I pretend to nibble at it and she smiles. I kiss her cheeks, her forehead, and her neck until I move my mouth over hers again.
We stop, and look into each other’s eyes, letting go of what was, checking to be sure just one last time.
#
The phone rings and we ignore it. Ron makes a weird noise, but he’s still sound asleep. We end up in her room, but there isn’t enough light and she doesn’t want it on so we fumble in the dark until I can feel her skin against mine.
The thought occurs to me that she isn’t new at this.
She leads me to her bed and climbs above me. It’s been a while for me, and I try to slow my libido by thinking mundane thoughts. She brushes her lips against my thigh and I think about how Victor’s Quidditch career is on the decline and when I feel her mouth on me I have to bite down not to moan too loudly.
Hermione, feeling me tense up beneath her, gives me a brief reprieve.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” She laughs.
“You started it.”
She huffs. “No I didn’t.”
I laugh. “You got jealous of Ron and I talking about Candy and…”
“Eileen,” Hermione says, narrowing her eyes again.
“Yes. Eileen. See? I've forgotten her already.” I run my hand along the back of her neck. “But admit that you started it when you went fishing for compliments.”
“Maybe. But I got them.” She smirks at me, then licks her lips.
I roll her over onto her back and pin her down and she gasps when I start kissing down her neck.
“And more.”
My hand reaches between her legs and she arches up. It’s my turn and I take it well. I move down, inhaling her, licking her so gently and carefully that she whimpers for me to stop. I don’t until I feel her shudder under me and I have to hold her steady and she cries out.
We freeze then, and listen. There is no movement. Ron is still snoring. We laugh a little more.
“Happy now?” I say. She’s beautiful. Perfect. I have always thought so, but never imagined she’d ever have me.
“Not yet," she says.
She grips my shoulders and draws her heels up along the backs of my legs and then pulls me forward, pulls us forward, until we’re all the way there.
Title: Compliments
Prompt: Hermione goes fishing for compliments, and gets more than she bargained for.
Summary: Well, when Hermione goes fishing for compliments, Harry gives her more than she bargained for. LOL. My summaries are the bestest! Yay!
Words: 1700
Other ships (if applicable): None
Rating: Hard R
Notes: Just a fun little ficlet. Had to get a little smutty. :P
“It’s Eileen, isn’t it?”
The woman stands in front of the bar, smiling sweetly as she adjusts her sweater in false modesty.
“Sir, if I had the tickets to sell, I’d certainly sell them to you…and your friend,” she says, her face turning sour as she glances over at Hermione.
But Hermione has the persistence of bad weather today.
“Am I hearing you correctly? I saw you let two people in just a minute ago. Now you’re going to tell me that all of the tickets are gone?”
“They’re gone, Miss. I had thought that my English was rather clear.”
I grab Hermione’s wrist. I am almost sure she would never reach for her wand, but I grab it just in case, and pull her away before Eileen becomes the newest candidate for an obliteration charm. She is furious, and stomps off a couple of feet in front of me.
“We plan to go to this concert together for months, and you can’t even remember to buy tickets in advance? Did you really think that flirting with…”
“Eileen…”
“Yes!” She looks at me and her eyes narrow a little. “Did you really think that flirting with her would get us in, Harry? So now Ron is alone, in a muggle concert hall, with absolutely no idea how to act…”
I chuckle, despite my attempts not to. She sighs, clenching her teeth.
“I’m sorry. I am. Things got really busy at the Ministry…”
Hermione’s hair is coming out of whatever configuration she had it in earlier as she begins to walk away from me again.
“What if I try to get tickets to the show next week? My treat,” I say, wondering silently if those were sold out as well.
“How?”
I catch up with her. “I’ll find a way.”
“Oh? And if they’re sold out are you going to go on about the ticket girls eyes? Or maybe how her sweater looks on her, like you did with whatshername.”
Her voice is quiet.
“Eileen.”
“Yes,” she says, slowing down some.
“I was just trying to get us tickets. I wasn’t interested in her.”
This is an odd conversation for us.
“We had better wait back at my apartment. Ron’s bound to show up when we don’t.”
I nod, and we walk in awkward silence back to her flat. When I suggest we apparate, Hermione only mumbles about not being in a hurry to get there.
My patience with her mood is wearing thin, but when she’s in a mood like this, there is just no arguing with her.
#
An hour later, Ron shows up at the apartment looking disheveled and exhilarated. Someone has apparently taught him how to play air guitar. I laugh. I can’t help it. Hermione seems a bit put out, but she lets a weak smile slip through. It’s obvious that he’s been drinking.
“There…there was this woman, her name was Candy, and she had the most amazing tits, Harry…” Ron says, lying back on the couch. “Oh, Hermione. I mean, her tits were out of a magazine.”
“I don’t care, Ron.”
Ron smiles. “Right. Sorry.”
I laugh again, and Hermione goes into the kitchen.
“She had wonderful cleavage, Harry. They were so big, and beautiful, and perfect…”
“You need to sleep it off, mate,” I say, shaking my head as he gestures in the air with his hands.
Then, Ron begins to tell me about the concert. I call to Hermione that Ron is no longer talking about Candy and is giving details about the concert, but she stays in the kitchen.
“The music was bad. Really bad, Harry. My ears hurt so I left early, and that’s when I met Candy. We went for drinks,” he says, his words jumbled.
“Candy, huh? Bet she was pretty sweet.”
There was a loud noise. Pots falling down- or being tossed around.
“Um, be back in a minute, Ron.”
Ron closes his eyes, laughing. “Candy…”
I go into the kitchen and Hermione is leaning against the counter.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Cleavage…”
“What?”
I wonder if she wants me to laugh, but I decide not to risk it.
“Cleavage. Eileen’s cleavage, Candy’s cleavage. It’s as if my breasts are completely invisible. I have a new sweater on and I have cleavage! They aren’t that small!”
They aren’t small at all. I attempt to think of a way to say it without getting smacked, but I just stand there, my eyes wide.
“They’re fine.”
Hermione opens the icebox and grabs a butterbeer. “Do you want one?”
“No thanks.”
She pops the can and takes a gulp. “I think I’ll drink it in here. Ron’s had enough.”
I peek into the other room and Ron is snoring loudly. “That he has.”
She sits up on the counter. Her hair is back to its normal state of disarray, but something else is different. I’m suddenly feeling clever.
“I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Your new sweater and…well, your cleavage.”
She laughs, but its nervous laughter. For some reason, this only eggs me on. If complimenting her cleavage will put her in a better mood, I’m more than willing to comply.
“Hermione, your cleavage is like two pillows in love; two ripe apples waiting to be picked.”
I tug on the neck of her sweater, knowing I’m now in dangerous territory. She pushes me away. “Harry!”
“Your cleavage looks like… looks like two beautiful worlds colliding to make the one true cleavage.”
“Shut up!” She says, smiling. It’s the first time she’s genuinely smiled all night.
“Your cleavage will one day save the world. Evil will be absorbed by it and transformed into good.”
I’m on a roll, but I’m having a difficult time staying focused. There is a tension underneath of our banter. She snorts, taking another sip. “This cleavage has already helped save the world once. Well, actually not my cleavage.”
I shrug. “You never know. I always suspected Voldemort had gotten distracted by something.”
She spews butterbeer. She’s giggling, sounding more and more unlike herself.
“Thank you, Harry.”
Hermione looks at me, her eyes dark and a little shiny. My face flushes and I look away.
“You’re quite welcome.”
Hermione adjusts herself, just like Eileen had done earlier, and before I can help it I find myself staring.
“I only recently started wearing things to show off my figure. I do have one, you know.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, except for Ron snoring. I think about kissing her.
“I noticed,” I say, and my heart starts beating fast. My mouth feels funny. I decide to kiss her on the cheek. It’s a safe bet.
Hermione meets me halfway, tipping her head to the side. She takes my hand and squeezes it, and I hold her for a few seconds, but my body decides to betray me so I pull away so that she won’t notice.
But she does.
She pulls me in and kisses me quickly on the mouth. I let my mouth open and I can taste the sweet butterbeer. Then we kiss again, this time so hard our teeth knock together. I hold her back and she holds mine until we finally take a breath and pull apart and my heart is racing and Ron is snoring and I grab her hips and whisper her name.
Hermione’s eyes are taking me in so completely. It’s funny. We are so close that kissing her doesn’t even feel like ‘moving forward’. I have goose pimples on my arms and legs.
“I should compliment you more often…”
"Yes, you should."
"I promise that - "
“Shhh.” She puts her finger over my lips. I pretend to nibble at it and she smiles. I kiss her cheeks, her forehead, and her neck until I move my mouth over hers again.
We stop, and look into each other’s eyes, letting go of what was, checking to be sure just one last time.
#
The phone rings and we ignore it. Ron makes a weird noise, but he’s still sound asleep. We end up in her room, but there isn’t enough light and she doesn’t want it on so we fumble in the dark until I can feel her skin against mine.
The thought occurs to me that she isn’t new at this.
She leads me to her bed and climbs above me. It’s been a while for me, and I try to slow my libido by thinking mundane thoughts. She brushes her lips against my thigh and I think about how Victor’s Quidditch career is on the decline and when I feel her mouth on me I have to bite down not to moan too loudly.
Hermione, feeling me tense up beneath her, gives me a brief reprieve.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” She laughs.
“You started it.”
She huffs. “No I didn’t.”
I laugh. “You got jealous of Ron and I talking about Candy and…”
“Eileen,” Hermione says, narrowing her eyes again.
“Yes. Eileen. See? I've forgotten her already.” I run my hand along the back of her neck. “But admit that you started it when you went fishing for compliments.”
“Maybe. But I got them.” She smirks at me, then licks her lips.
I roll her over onto her back and pin her down and she gasps when I start kissing down her neck.
“And more.”
My hand reaches between her legs and she arches up. It’s my turn and I take it well. I move down, inhaling her, licking her so gently and carefully that she whimpers for me to stop. I don’t until I feel her shudder under me and I have to hold her steady and she cries out.
We freeze then, and listen. There is no movement. Ron is still snoring. We laugh a little more.
“Happy now?” I say. She’s beautiful. Perfect. I have always thought so, but never imagined she’d ever have me.
“Not yet," she says.
She grips my shoulders and draws her heels up along the backs of my legs and then pulls me forward, pulls us forward, until we’re all the way there.