Ficlet: "He thinks, she wants" - R/Hr - Suggestive PG13
Ahahahahaha. I'm a shippy dork. Who really likes the idea of a desiring female gaze. :P
"He thinks, she wants" - HP - Ron/Hermione - PG13/R - 250-ish words.
*
It’s so soppy, in his head, when he thinks about her.
He buys treats for Crookshanks, even though he’s always hated cats. Dogs are better. He wishes his mum had let them have one, a nice cocker spaniel he could teach to do tricks. But Hermione loves that dratted feline, and he loves her, and Ron has never been good about being direct. When it counts anyway.
He’ll kiss her hand first (imagining himself as gallant). There could be flowers and low-lighting and a soft bed with curtains around it or something. Special, private.
It should be like a scene out of a book-he’ll convince her that she’s made the right choice, after all.
*
It’s so pornographic, in her head, when she thinks about him.
She looks at the width of his wrists: the golden, freckled skin on top; the blue veins on the underside. She wants his hands on her body.
He smells warm. She stares at his neck, the jut of his adam’s apple, and she wants to lick there. She wants him to wear muggle jeans and T-shirts every day now so she can look, waiting in anticipation for the moments when he stretches and the fabric rides up, revealing a ginger trail to exactly where she wants to touch.
Now that her heart lets her want this openly, everything’s so vivid.
*
It’s so awkward, when it happens.
“Here?” he exclaims.
Hermione nods emphatically, but blushes.
“Now.”
*
[Seriously, look at my icon. She wants to *eat him.*]
"He thinks, she wants" - HP - Ron/Hermione - PG13/R - 250-ish words.
*
It’s so soppy, in his head, when he thinks about her.
He buys treats for Crookshanks, even though he’s always hated cats. Dogs are better. He wishes his mum had let them have one, a nice cocker spaniel he could teach to do tricks. But Hermione loves that dratted feline, and he loves her, and Ron has never been good about being direct. When it counts anyway.
He’ll kiss her hand first (imagining himself as gallant). There could be flowers and low-lighting and a soft bed with curtains around it or something. Special, private.
It should be like a scene out of a book-he’ll convince her that she’s made the right choice, after all.
*
It’s so pornographic, in her head, when she thinks about him.
She looks at the width of his wrists: the golden, freckled skin on top; the blue veins on the underside. She wants his hands on her body.
He smells warm. She stares at his neck, the jut of his adam’s apple, and she wants to lick there. She wants him to wear muggle jeans and T-shirts every day now so she can look, waiting in anticipation for the moments when he stretches and the fabric rides up, revealing a ginger trail to exactly where she wants to touch.
Now that her heart lets her want this openly, everything’s so vivid.
*
It’s so awkward, when it happens.
“Here?” he exclaims.
Hermione nods emphatically, but blushes.
“Now.”
*
[Seriously, look at my icon. She wants to *eat him.*]