Sirius/Hermione drabble
Jul. 4th, 2006 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tattooedsirenTitle: Obsession
Rating: PG13/R
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrs_remus. This is my first attempt at Sirius/Hermione, so I hope you enjoy it.
Obsession
Hermione knew she could be obsessive. Her research and S.P.E.W. were evidence enough of this.
But she was fine with that. Some obsessions were okay. Some were not.
For example, being obsessed with your best friends godfather definitely fit into the category of ‘bad obsessions.’ It was wrong. It was unfair. It wasn’t meant to be.
She cant help but notice the little things. The way his eyes light up every time he talks to Harry. The way he laughs more in the presence of Remus than he does with anyone else. The way his hands fidget when he is anxious. The way he gets uncomfortable with any more than half a dozen people in the room and if it gets too crowded he silently slips out the door.
She tells herself to stop looking. It isn’t healthy. It isn’t right. But she can’t help it.
She can’t stop the dreams. She can’t help but think of him in the night hours, her hands roaming over her breasts, down her stomach and under her knickers as she imagines they are his. She can’t stop herself from saying his name as she comes.
One night, there is a soft knock on the door. She grumbles, getting out of bed and straightening her pyjamas before opening the door.
Sirius.
She briefly registers the fidgeting hands before she becomes enraptured by his eyes. They are bright and intense and her skin shivers in response.
“Hermione,” he says, throaty, low.
And then he is kissing her, tongue exploring every inch of her mouth as she moans and presses her body against his. The door is closed behind them and he lifts her up, her legs around his waist. He pushes her up against a nearby wall, kissing and licking his way down her throat. She is wearing a loose singlet which he pulls down, taking her nipple into his mouth. She gasps, grinding her lower half against him, desperate for friction.
He places her on the floor and they begin tearing at each others clothes. It is primal and desperate and intense. They don’t even make it to her bed, fucking on the floor, crazy with need.
Afterwards, in the first act of tenderness, he gently places a hand on her stomach, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on her velvet skin. She places a hand over his and wonders, if he is as obsessed as she, does that make it right?
Rating: PG13/R
For
mrs_remus. This is my first attempt at Sirius/Hermione, so I hope you enjoy it.Obsession
Hermione knew she could be obsessive. Her research and S.P.E.W. were evidence enough of this.
But she was fine with that. Some obsessions were okay. Some were not.
For example, being obsessed with your best friends godfather definitely fit into the category of ‘bad obsessions.’ It was wrong. It was unfair. It wasn’t meant to be.
She cant help but notice the little things. The way his eyes light up every time he talks to Harry. The way he laughs more in the presence of Remus than he does with anyone else. The way his hands fidget when he is anxious. The way he gets uncomfortable with any more than half a dozen people in the room and if it gets too crowded he silently slips out the door.
She tells herself to stop looking. It isn’t healthy. It isn’t right. But she can’t help it.
She can’t stop the dreams. She can’t help but think of him in the night hours, her hands roaming over her breasts, down her stomach and under her knickers as she imagines they are his. She can’t stop herself from saying his name as she comes.
One night, there is a soft knock on the door. She grumbles, getting out of bed and straightening her pyjamas before opening the door.
Sirius.
She briefly registers the fidgeting hands before she becomes enraptured by his eyes. They are bright and intense and her skin shivers in response.
“Hermione,” he says, throaty, low.
And then he is kissing her, tongue exploring every inch of her mouth as she moans and presses her body against his. The door is closed behind them and he lifts her up, her legs around his waist. He pushes her up against a nearby wall, kissing and licking his way down her throat. She is wearing a loose singlet which he pulls down, taking her nipple into his mouth. She gasps, grinding her lower half against him, desperate for friction.
He places her on the floor and they begin tearing at each others clothes. It is primal and desperate and intense. They don’t even make it to her bed, fucking on the floor, crazy with need.
Afterwards, in the first act of tenderness, he gently places a hand on her stomach, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on her velvet skin. She places a hand over his and wonders, if he is as obsessed as she, does that make it right?
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Date: 2006-11-13 03:14 am (UTC)Great drabble!
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