Fic: Lust (Hermione/Blaise)
Title: Lust
Pairing: Hermione/Blaise
Summary: Hermione couldn’t concentrate and it was all his fault
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2060
50_smutlets and 100quills prompt: Lust
Happy birthday, Dramaphile!
Another piece of parchment was crumpled up and tossed into the bin. Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands. This was becoming ridiculous. No, actually, it had surpassed ridiculous two days ago. Now, it was just frustrating and highly annoying.
She couldn’t believe she was behaving this way. She had never let anything interfere with her research before. Her job was important to her and she prided herself on her focus and attention to detail. Four weeks ago, all of that had changed, and it was all his fault.
Blaise Zabini. Former Slytherin, smug Pureblood, far too handsome for his own good, and her new colleague in the research department at Greengrass Inc. From the moment she’d seen him again, she’d felt a stirring that had remained dormant for the last five years. Since her amicable break-up with Ron, she’d thrown herself into work and had avoided any physical relationships and certainly any emotional ones. Her attempt at such things with Ron had shown that she was just not suited for relationships so the best thing to do was avoid them.
Why, then, did she feel as if her body was on fire every time Blaise Zabini smirked? Even now, she felt a tension building in her body, a restlessness that was distracting her from everything except thoughts of walking across the hall and doing something extremely stupid. She was not a foolish person and she had control of her desires, though, so she stayed at her desk and refused to acknowledge this lust that Zabini had awakened in her.
It wasn’t bad enough that he’d taken over her dreams at night or that she found herself thinking about him in very inappropriate ways (and a variety of different positions) all the time. No, he now had to make her lose focus on her work and make it impossible to get anything done. Hermione groaned again and crumpled up the parchment she’d been writing on when she noticed her notes, once again, veered into four words that had been haunting her: I want Blaise Zabini. She’d found herself writing that randomly for the last two weeks, since they’d run into each other in the hallway and she’d felt his firm body pressing her against the wall.
How could she be in a constant state of arousal? It just wasn’t physically possible. She should know as she’d read all the books written on the subject of sex before she and Ron became intimate years ago. Not even masturbation was sating her desire. Touching herself just led to vivid fantasies of dark skin brushing against pale as he fucked her (it definitely wasn’t making love in her dreams and she thought the intense roughness certainly made it more animalistic than just sex) and a feeling of restlessness once she’d come and her fingers were coated with her release.
She closed the file she was working on and pushed her chair away from her desk. She needed to move before she did something extremely foolish, like lock her door and slide her hand into her knickers while thinking of the many alternate uses for her desk and bookshelves and the large chair by the window. Hermione ran a hand over her face and pushed her hair away from her face before she stepped out of her office. It was a short walk to the file room, which was kept cooler than the rest of the floor due to the delicate parchment that was in some of the older files.
The room was empty, which wasn’t unusual. She was one of the only people who ever actually went to get her own files instead of relying on what seemed like a dozen forms to obtain the necessary paperwork when it was much easier to walk just down the hall and get them herself. She was currently researching the properties of a half dozen herbs and plants so the company could experiment with alternate uses for possible potions, which was a fascinating assignment and one she’d had to lobby to receive. It was highly bothersome to be unable to focus on anything except her carnal lust for the co-worker across the hall.
Of course, the files she wanted were on the bottom shelf and she’d not brought her wand. She grumbled as she knelt down and got out three files with information she thought would be useful. When she straightened back up, she turned and gasped in surprise when she found that she wasn’t alone. Her pulse began to race in a way that had become all too familiar lately when she realized it was Zabini.
He was dressed impeccably in black trousers that looked as if they’d been made to fit him, a white shirt with pearl buttons that probably cost more than everything she’d worn all week, and a simple dark tie that had occasional amber swirls that she could swear were an exact match to the gold in his irises that she’d noticed during their hallway encounter. Milford Greengrass was very anti-robes in the workplace and had a fondness for Muggle things that rivaled Arthur Weasley. She’d never truly appreciated the fact they didn’t have to wear robes until she saw Blaise Zabini in those fitted trousers he loved to wear.
Hermione blinked and felt a betraying rush of heat flood her cheeks as she realized she’d just been staring. He was leaning against the end of one of the shelves and looking at her, though, so she shouldn’t be to blame. She nodded politely at him and started to walk past so she could run to her office and hide. She didn’t expect him to reach out and lightly grab her wrist. She looked at him and asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Mister Zabini?”
“I wish I knew why I want to kiss you so much,” he murmured in that low husky voice that just seemed to ooze sex even when he was reporting numbers during a dull meeting.
Suddenly, she realized what he said and her eyes widened. She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip as she tried to decide if she’d just imagined those words. It was certainly possible considering this lust-induced haze he seemed to be able to put her in so easily.
She felt the shelf of files behind her back, not even noticing that she’d stepped back as he moved closer. He lowered his head and she could practically feel those full lips despite the fact that he hadn’t kissed her. “You have this infuriating habit of biting your lower lip,” he growled softly as he moved his arms on either side of her, pinning her between him and the shelf. “Every time I see you do it, I want to do this.”
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she moaned softly when he sucked her lip before letting go. Distantly, she heard the sound of files falling to the floor but didn’t pay them any attention as she gripped the shelves behind her tightly as she fought the urge to touch him. “More,” she whispered as she met his gaze, shuddering at the look of desire he wasn’t bothering to hide.
She opened her mouth and he slid the tip of his tongue along the curve of her lips before he licked her tongue. He was so close that she could feel his body heat, but they weren’t touching at all save for the lick of their tongues as they stared at each other. Her breasts felt heavy, tingling with some need she’d never quite experienced before, and her nipples were tight as they pressed against the thin fabric of her bra and blouse.
“What have you done to me?” he asked in a low whisper before he moved closer. His leg went between hers and he pressed his thigh up, rubbing against her through her prim gray skirt. Still, he didn’t kiss her. His hand drifted up her ribs as he flicked his tongue against hers and licked her lips. When she felt his thumb brush against the underside of her breast, she arched her body towards him.
The friction of his thigh was glorious. Her body rocked against his leg unconsciously, seeking some sort of contact with this man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts. He growled again before his hands moved behind her back to grip her arse. He pulled her against his leg hard, and she felt his erection press against her as his long fingers squeezed her arse. She whimpered as she let go of the shelf and reached up to grip his slender shoulders.
“Why do I want you so much?” he panted against her open mouth, sounding as desperate and confused as she felt.
Her breath caught as she felt the damp material of her knickers rub against her clit with each thrust of his thigh between her legs. Her head fell back, hitting the shelf behind her, as she whined softly when the tension of the last month finally snapped. She shuddered as she came and felt his warm breath against her neck before he bit her suddenly, hard enough to make a mark. He grunted and trembled as his hips jerked towards her.
Once she could breathe again, she became aware of the hand gripping her arse tightly and the fingers tangled in her hair. They were breathing heavily and the scent of sweat and sex was in the air around them. She looked up at him, shocked at her behavior and excited at her daring and frustrated because she still wanted and it hadn’t been enough.
He looked as shocked as she felt at their loss of control. For once, he didn’t seem cool and aloof. Instead, he was flushed and almost untamed. He let go of her and stepped back, staring at her as he tried to collect himself. She looked at his lips and realized that he’d still never actually kissed her.
Before she could ask any questions or try to discuss what they’d just done, he glared at her, as if it was her fault he’d just pushed her against a shelf and practically shagged her. “I’m sorry, Miss Granger,” he said in a firm voice that indicated the subject was closed before it was even opened. He turned and gracefully walked out of the file room with his hands clenched at his sides.
Sorry? He was sorry? The most passionate experience of her life and he apologized as if it shouldn’t have happened? She was once again torn between a variety of emotions but anger and frustration won. She straightened her clothes and her hair before she picked up the fallen files, scowling at the parchment as she left the room and went to her office. She hesitated in the hall outside his closed door but didn’t knock. If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, fine.
She stormed into her office and closed the door harder than she’d intended. After she reached her desk, she sat down and tossed the files on top of several folders. God. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that. She should be embarrassed instead of angry that he was an arrogant, sexy, rude man who didn’t know the proper way to behave after a rough near-fuck against the shelves at work. Surely there was some sort of polite etiquette for such a situation.
Well, at least it would surely end this fascination and lust she felt for him, she thought crossly as she picked up her wand and performed a cleaning charm on her soaking wet knickers. Once that was done, she felt slightly more comfortable as she got her quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. If that’s the way he felt about things, it was better that this lust was gone. He’d probably been ashamed of touching a Muggleborn, she thought angrily. Back at school, she could recall hearing some snide things from him regarding bloodlines even if he’d never taunted or insulted like Malfoy.
When Hermione looked down at her notes, she groaned and then sighed as she tossed her quill on the desk and put her head in her hands. There in the middle of her notes were five words that taunted her with things she couldn’t have.
I still want Blaise Zabini.
End
Pairing: Hermione/Blaise
Summary: Hermione couldn’t concentrate and it was all his fault
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2060
50_smutlets and 100quills prompt: Lust
Happy birthday, Dramaphile!
Another piece of parchment was crumpled up and tossed into the bin. Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands. This was becoming ridiculous. No, actually, it had surpassed ridiculous two days ago. Now, it was just frustrating and highly annoying.
She couldn’t believe she was behaving this way. She had never let anything interfere with her research before. Her job was important to her and she prided herself on her focus and attention to detail. Four weeks ago, all of that had changed, and it was all his fault.
Blaise Zabini. Former Slytherin, smug Pureblood, far too handsome for his own good, and her new colleague in the research department at Greengrass Inc. From the moment she’d seen him again, she’d felt a stirring that had remained dormant for the last five years. Since her amicable break-up with Ron, she’d thrown herself into work and had avoided any physical relationships and certainly any emotional ones. Her attempt at such things with Ron had shown that she was just not suited for relationships so the best thing to do was avoid them.
Why, then, did she feel as if her body was on fire every time Blaise Zabini smirked? Even now, she felt a tension building in her body, a restlessness that was distracting her from everything except thoughts of walking across the hall and doing something extremely stupid. She was not a foolish person and she had control of her desires, though, so she stayed at her desk and refused to acknowledge this lust that Zabini had awakened in her.
It wasn’t bad enough that he’d taken over her dreams at night or that she found herself thinking about him in very inappropriate ways (and a variety of different positions) all the time. No, he now had to make her lose focus on her work and make it impossible to get anything done. Hermione groaned again and crumpled up the parchment she’d been writing on when she noticed her notes, once again, veered into four words that had been haunting her: I want Blaise Zabini. She’d found herself writing that randomly for the last two weeks, since they’d run into each other in the hallway and she’d felt his firm body pressing her against the wall.
How could she be in a constant state of arousal? It just wasn’t physically possible. She should know as she’d read all the books written on the subject of sex before she and Ron became intimate years ago. Not even masturbation was sating her desire. Touching herself just led to vivid fantasies of dark skin brushing against pale as he fucked her (it definitely wasn’t making love in her dreams and she thought the intense roughness certainly made it more animalistic than just sex) and a feeling of restlessness once she’d come and her fingers were coated with her release.
She closed the file she was working on and pushed her chair away from her desk. She needed to move before she did something extremely foolish, like lock her door and slide her hand into her knickers while thinking of the many alternate uses for her desk and bookshelves and the large chair by the window. Hermione ran a hand over her face and pushed her hair away from her face before she stepped out of her office. It was a short walk to the file room, which was kept cooler than the rest of the floor due to the delicate parchment that was in some of the older files.
The room was empty, which wasn’t unusual. She was one of the only people who ever actually went to get her own files instead of relying on what seemed like a dozen forms to obtain the necessary paperwork when it was much easier to walk just down the hall and get them herself. She was currently researching the properties of a half dozen herbs and plants so the company could experiment with alternate uses for possible potions, which was a fascinating assignment and one she’d had to lobby to receive. It was highly bothersome to be unable to focus on anything except her carnal lust for the co-worker across the hall.
Of course, the files she wanted were on the bottom shelf and she’d not brought her wand. She grumbled as she knelt down and got out three files with information she thought would be useful. When she straightened back up, she turned and gasped in surprise when she found that she wasn’t alone. Her pulse began to race in a way that had become all too familiar lately when she realized it was Zabini.
He was dressed impeccably in black trousers that looked as if they’d been made to fit him, a white shirt with pearl buttons that probably cost more than everything she’d worn all week, and a simple dark tie that had occasional amber swirls that she could swear were an exact match to the gold in his irises that she’d noticed during their hallway encounter. Milford Greengrass was very anti-robes in the workplace and had a fondness for Muggle things that rivaled Arthur Weasley. She’d never truly appreciated the fact they didn’t have to wear robes until she saw Blaise Zabini in those fitted trousers he loved to wear.
Hermione blinked and felt a betraying rush of heat flood her cheeks as she realized she’d just been staring. He was leaning against the end of one of the shelves and looking at her, though, so she shouldn’t be to blame. She nodded politely at him and started to walk past so she could run to her office and hide. She didn’t expect him to reach out and lightly grab her wrist. She looked at him and asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Mister Zabini?”
“I wish I knew why I want to kiss you so much,” he murmured in that low husky voice that just seemed to ooze sex even when he was reporting numbers during a dull meeting.
Suddenly, she realized what he said and her eyes widened. She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip as she tried to decide if she’d just imagined those words. It was certainly possible considering this lust-induced haze he seemed to be able to put her in so easily.
She felt the shelf of files behind her back, not even noticing that she’d stepped back as he moved closer. He lowered his head and she could practically feel those full lips despite the fact that he hadn’t kissed her. “You have this infuriating habit of biting your lower lip,” he growled softly as he moved his arms on either side of her, pinning her between him and the shelf. “Every time I see you do it, I want to do this.”
His teeth nipped at her bottom lip and she moaned softly when he sucked her lip before letting go. Distantly, she heard the sound of files falling to the floor but didn’t pay them any attention as she gripped the shelves behind her tightly as she fought the urge to touch him. “More,” she whispered as she met his gaze, shuddering at the look of desire he wasn’t bothering to hide.
She opened her mouth and he slid the tip of his tongue along the curve of her lips before he licked her tongue. He was so close that she could feel his body heat, but they weren’t touching at all save for the lick of their tongues as they stared at each other. Her breasts felt heavy, tingling with some need she’d never quite experienced before, and her nipples were tight as they pressed against the thin fabric of her bra and blouse.
“What have you done to me?” he asked in a low whisper before he moved closer. His leg went between hers and he pressed his thigh up, rubbing against her through her prim gray skirt. Still, he didn’t kiss her. His hand drifted up her ribs as he flicked his tongue against hers and licked her lips. When she felt his thumb brush against the underside of her breast, she arched her body towards him.
The friction of his thigh was glorious. Her body rocked against his leg unconsciously, seeking some sort of contact with this man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts. He growled again before his hands moved behind her back to grip her arse. He pulled her against his leg hard, and she felt his erection press against her as his long fingers squeezed her arse. She whimpered as she let go of the shelf and reached up to grip his slender shoulders.
“Why do I want you so much?” he panted against her open mouth, sounding as desperate and confused as she felt.
Her breath caught as she felt the damp material of her knickers rub against her clit with each thrust of his thigh between her legs. Her head fell back, hitting the shelf behind her, as she whined softly when the tension of the last month finally snapped. She shuddered as she came and felt his warm breath against her neck before he bit her suddenly, hard enough to make a mark. He grunted and trembled as his hips jerked towards her.
Once she could breathe again, she became aware of the hand gripping her arse tightly and the fingers tangled in her hair. They were breathing heavily and the scent of sweat and sex was in the air around them. She looked up at him, shocked at her behavior and excited at her daring and frustrated because she still wanted and it hadn’t been enough.
He looked as shocked as she felt at their loss of control. For once, he didn’t seem cool and aloof. Instead, he was flushed and almost untamed. He let go of her and stepped back, staring at her as he tried to collect himself. She looked at his lips and realized that he’d still never actually kissed her.
Before she could ask any questions or try to discuss what they’d just done, he glared at her, as if it was her fault he’d just pushed her against a shelf and practically shagged her. “I’m sorry, Miss Granger,” he said in a firm voice that indicated the subject was closed before it was even opened. He turned and gracefully walked out of the file room with his hands clenched at his sides.
Sorry? He was sorry? The most passionate experience of her life and he apologized as if it shouldn’t have happened? She was once again torn between a variety of emotions but anger and frustration won. She straightened her clothes and her hair before she picked up the fallen files, scowling at the parchment as she left the room and went to her office. She hesitated in the hall outside his closed door but didn’t knock. If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, fine.
She stormed into her office and closed the door harder than she’d intended. After she reached her desk, she sat down and tossed the files on top of several folders. God. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that. She should be embarrassed instead of angry that he was an arrogant, sexy, rude man who didn’t know the proper way to behave after a rough near-fuck against the shelves at work. Surely there was some sort of polite etiquette for such a situation.
Well, at least it would surely end this fascination and lust she felt for him, she thought crossly as she picked up her wand and performed a cleaning charm on her soaking wet knickers. Once that was done, she felt slightly more comfortable as she got her quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. If that’s the way he felt about things, it was better that this lust was gone. He’d probably been ashamed of touching a Muggleborn, she thought angrily. Back at school, she could recall hearing some snide things from him regarding bloodlines even if he’d never taunted or insulted like Malfoy.
When Hermione looked down at her notes, she groaned and then sighed as she tossed her quill on the desk and put her head in her hands. There in the middle of her notes were five words that taunted her with things she couldn’t have.
I still want Blaise Zabini.
End