Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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at least i didn't have to streak or anything

so I lost a bet with sociofemme. You see, my mother calls me too much and Ellen drinks too much. So the bet was, if she drank before the next time my mother called me, she had to write me Nell/Sirius (if you know who Nell is, you'll know how truly truly cruel that is). If Ellen won, I had to write femslash.

I lost. But only because she was really sick last Friday, which I feel is barely fair. However, a bet is a bet, and sooner or later I will get mine and then Ellen will be forced to write of Nell's desparate search for a father figure for Harry and a daddy for herself, so I'd better hold up my end of the bargain this time.

I Just Can't Take It!

"I just can't take it!" Lavender exclaimed suddenly.

"Hmm?" Hermione lifted her head out of the thick book she was paging through for her term essay and peered at Lavender. "What's that?"

"I said I can't take it!" Lavender repeated, voice growing shrill.

"Quiet down, Pince's looking at us," Hermione hissed. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's this Runes homework!" Lavender lowered her voice a tiny bit. "It's all I do anymore! I've spent three hours to do thirty-five lines! All I do is look at these stupid lines, and this stupid dictionary, and these stupid notes that don't help at all! I hate it!"

"No, you don't," Hermione said soothingly, smothering her irritation at being the only person in Hogwarts who didn't have a nervous breakdown before exams. Well, there was that one time in Second Year, but fortunately nobody knew about that thanks to the basilisk. "Runes is your favorite, Lavender."

"No, it isn't!" Lavender shook her head violently, voice rising again. "I hate it! I hate being the only person in my class! I hate tutoring all those stupid First Years! And most of all, I hate knowing that I'm going have to translate ALL class, EVERY class, and nobody else has to suffer through it but me!"

"Honestly, no one forced you to skip a level," Hermione said.
It turned out to be the absolute worst thing Hermione could have said. Lavender's lip quivered once, then she burst into tears.

"Oh no, don't do that!" Hermione hushed her, instantly repentant. She fished her handkerchief out of her pocket, looking around to be sure Pince wasn't about to descend on them like a flock of pixies and hustle them from the library. Hermione had two more essays to finish before she was going to set foot back in Gryffindor Tower.

Lavender was still weeping loudly, and she blew her nose on Hermione's handkerchief.

"Just take a deep breath," Hermione advised. "It'll all be over soon, you'll see. You've only got a few more lines…" Lavender glanced down at her parchments and burst into fresh tears. Desperate to make her stop, Hermione did the only thing she could think of.

She leaned over and kissed Lavender squarely on the mouth.

Hermione never did close her eyes when she kissed, that meant she couldn't see what was going on, so she saw Lavender's eyes go wide with surprise then flutter closed. Lavender took a few hiccupping breaths around Hermione's mouth, unable to get air in through her congested nose. Hermione pulled back after a moment.

"You just need to relax," she told Lavender.

"I'm not quite relaxed yet," Lavender reported, reaching over to pull Hermione closer again by the back of her head.

I only meant to stop her crying, not turn her lesbian, Hermione thought, before analysis of the practiced ease with which Lavender's hand had slipped into her robes concluded that this was not Lavender's first bout of same-sex experimentation. Her hypothesis was confirmed when Lavender expertly tweaked Hermione's nipple through her blouse.

While Hermione did find Lavender's skill with the female body more than acceptable, the library was hardly the place for lengthy explorations, and she still had two essays to finish.

Accordingly, Hermione abruptly slid off her chair and slipped under the table.

"Hermione," Lavender hissed, trying to twist down to see, but firm hands held her thighs firmly. "What are you…oh!"

Lavender tried to look like she was studying her parchment innocently while deft fingers pushed aside her robes and rolled her skirt up out of the way. She bit her lip when those same fingers coaxed her knees further apart and tugged the crotch of her knickers to the side, and she barely managed to suppress a moan when warm breath puffed over her inner thigh.

When Hermione's tongue finally brushed over her, Lavender gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. Lavender glanced around at the other students scattered throughout the library at other tables, positive that some of them must know what was going on. The thought only made her hotter, and she couldn't muffle all of the sharp sound she made when Hermione's studious tongue finally found her clit.

The thrill of getting caught and the stress of impending finals had Lavender already close to the edge when she felt Hermione's fingers slip inside and explore her just as thoroughly inside as her tongue was doing outside. All at once, Hermione's fingers pushed up right underneath where her tongue was pushing down, and sparks shot into Lavender's stomach as though a circuit had been completed.

Lavender clamped her jaw shut to keep from crying out, but couldn't stop her hips from rising to meet Hermione's touch or her hands from fisting so that her nails sank into her own palms.

After several breaths which Lavender didn't take, she relaxed bonelessly against her chair, feeling a bit dizzy. She watched with a sort of mellow detachment as Hermione's head reappeared from under the table, looking around cautiously to make sure nobody was watching before climbing back into her chair.

"I think you ought to have a nap," Hermione said, peering critically at Lavender's half-slit eyes.

"Think you're right," Lavender yawned, standing herself up with an effort. She gathered her things into her bag and wandered out of the library in a sort of daze.

Finally, Hermione let out a breath. Now maybe I can get these blasted essays done.
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