m0cheeks
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Summary
“And Scorpius,” Hermione began, tone kind though just as firm. “My daughter has informed me that you don’t regularly give her orgasms.”
Scorpius choked on his breath, eyes darting to Rose and back to Hermione. “I—what?”
“Did your father not sit you down and explain the basics?” Hermione asked sympathetically, then sighed. “He always was so covetous and fastidious with his knowledge. But no matter. I’m happy to help.”
Rose grinned somewhat wickedly up at Scorpius, who Hermione noticed was even pinker than before and somewhat short of breath. With her tongue relaxed into a broad, flat pad, Rose used her grip on his cock to rub the swollen tip lightly back and forth across it. Scorpius’s eyelids fluttered on a restrained blink.
“He’d love to learn from you. Wouldn’t you, Scorpie?”
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Or, Hermione learns that her daughter's boyfriend isn't making her come, so offers to help.
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I’m beautiful, she wrote.
Seeing it on the page, like it was a fact she was being taught, something irrefutable, sent a complicated thrill through her.
“Good.” Draco gestured to his son. “Another.”
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“Hi,” she begins, tone casual because that’s what they are—casual. Or so he insists. “Shouldn’t you be resting before it starts up again?”
He draws to a halt in front of her, chest heaving. She lifts her butterbeer between them, brows raised invitingly.
“Thirsty?”
He ignores the offer, eyes burning into hers with unblinking intensity.
“What’re you playing at?” he grits out, the words low and just for her. With his back to the room, no one else can see the way his entire being is radiating displeasure.
But that’s the way it’s always been. A secret between them, no one else the wiser.
She takes the sip instead, eyeing him over the rim.
“You’re the one playing,” she remarks lightly. “I’m just on the sidelines.”
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Or when Hermione and Draco are in a situationship and both secretly want more.
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The ice-cold mist assaulted him first, contrasting with the comparatively warm air and highlighting exactly how terrible his next two minutes were about it be. Was it worth it? To step under the spray and snuff out a little bit of his happiness forever?
He thought of the look she would send him as he walked into the Great Hall, the way her gaze always found his and held for a tiny, infinitesimal moment before she was either drawn back into conversation, or completed whatever eating-or-drinking action she’d been midway through, or—beautifully, disastrously—sent a tiny smile over at him.
The shiver that wracked through him had nothing to do with the goosebumps pricking along his entire body. The ache in his groin was unending.
Fuck.
He stepped under the spray.
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Or, Draco resorts to a cold shower or two.
Series
- Part 4 of Try Not To Come
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Summary
“Jesus,” he blurted. “What—?”
“Sorry, sorry,” she interrupted, closing her eyes and pressing a hand to her forehead. “I just…sorry, give me a second to clear my head.”
She refused to explain why the first thing he’d seen when entering her mind was a rather vivid recollection of her last masturbation session. How embarrassing. She thought about walking in a forest – the least sexy thing she could think of – and then doubled down by picturing herself in the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts. In the rain. In January.
“Okay.” She exhaled and met his eyes again. “Okay, it’s safe now. Go ahead.”
He looked dubious but raised his wand and spoke the incantation again.
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Or, Hermione can't remember an important piece of intel and so Draco is assigned to help find it.
Series
- Part 1 of Try Not To Come