Authors Note: Just a quick little smutty one-shot for angelically-devilish, who demanded a Remus/Hermione school uniform scene. Who was I to refuse?
Detention, Miss Granger
Hermione woke up with a start, staring up at the black ceiling and listening out for the disturbance that had pulled her from her slumber. She could hear Remus's deep breaths beside her, a constant comfort in the dark, and contemplated waking him up to see if they were being burgled. That was until he spoke.
"Detention," he said clearly.
Hermione frowned and turned her head on the pillow, finding the older man's eyes were closed and his breathing was still even. It was quiet obvious he was still asleep and she wondered just what he was dreaming about.
Her question was answered moments later.
"Detention, Miss Granger. My office at eight."
Her eyebrows raised high into her hairline as she stared at her lover with a mix of amusement and incredulity. At twenty-five she was far beyond detentions and she wondered just what had him thinking about them subconsciously.
"Remus," she said softly, turning her body to curl into his, wanting to wake him and ask.
The werewolf had other ideas, however, when he let out a deep sigh and pulled her in to him, his lithe body molding to hers. Her eyes bulged moments before a smile spread across her face. Remus's erection against her soft stomach was enough to tell her that the nature of his dream was far from innocent.
"Bend over," he murmured into her hair, his hips nudging hers lightly.
Hermione had to suppress her giggles as she processed that the man of her dreams, her ex-professor no less, harbored naughty schoolgirl thoughts about her.
Remus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, tilting it one way and then the next to try and work out the kinks. His work with the Ministry was rewarding; his time well spent researching various things for different departments. It kept him busy and interested, much like teaching had.
Working from home also had its perks when he heard the floo activate, signaling Hermione's return from Flourish and Blott's where she worked casually when she wasn't being hounded by reporters and fans of the Golden Trio. The rest of her time was spent working on her endless novels, providing the wizarding world with a very different insight into the recent war.
"I'm home," she called from the living room.
Remus smiled when he heard the tell-tale sound of her book-laden bag hitting the floor, her shoes hitting the wall next before she padded toward their bedroom to change. She had a very predictable routine and one Remus knew by heart.
"How was work?" he called, hearing her in the next room, her clothes rustling. He returned to the text on Unbreakable Vows he was summarizing.
"Busy. The school term goes back in a few weeks, so we had a lot of students wandering around," she replied, the rustling stopping. He used his extra-sensitive hearing to track her movements as she left their bedroom to come and see him in the study.
"Has the book list changed much? Or are they still using the same list they had when I was there?" he asked, curious to see if any change had happened to the familiar curriculum.
"Nope, same as always," she replied from the doorway.
Remus smiled and looked up, his expression freezing when he saw her.
Hermione licked her lips and looked down at herself, dressed in her old Gryffindor uniform that still fit like a glove.
"I-I..." he stammered, the smile fading as his eyes bulged from his head.
"You, you, Professor?" she teased, stepping in to the small book filled study, her hips swaying gently from side-to-side until she came to a stop before the desk.
Remus audibly gulped and let out the shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Amazing, isn't it? That it still fits after all these years," she asked coyly, turning slowly to show off the pleated skirt she had charmed a few inches off and the much more form-fitting white blouse that was missing the top few buttons.
"Why, Miss Granger," he finally choked out. "You are missing your tie. That is a violation of the dress code."
Hermione bought a hand up to her neck, trailing it down between her breasts where the tie should have sat.
"I suppose that means you are going to give me detention?" she asked, biting her lower lip.
"I'm afraid so," Remus replied, his voice going deep as he got over his initial shock and caught on to her game.
"I'm free now... if you want me," she said, walking around the desk to stand by his chair, looking down at the obvious tent in his robes before bringing her gaze up to his face.
His eyes seemed glued to her chest when he answered.
"It just so happens I do... I mean, I am... free, that is."
Hermione chuckled and turned his chair to face her.
"Good," she said, dropping to her knees in front of him, looking up through the curtain of her curls. "Let me help you with that, Professor," she added, already reaching from the part in his robes, revealing the straining zipper of his pants.
"You're assistance would be appreciated," he choked out, groaning when her hands ran up his thighs to brush against him through the constricting fabric.
Hermione threw her hair back and moved forward to undo his belt, her fingers grazing the smooth skin of his stomach. She delighted in the panting moans he was already emitting and wondered just how long their little game could last. Obviously this was a secret fantasy of his, and she was all too happy to help fulfill it.
Pulling the zipper down inch by inch, she let her fingers graze him, causing him to buck in to her impatiently. Grinning up at him, she wasted no time pulling him from his pants and blowing against the heart-shaped tip teasingly.
"Hermione," he growled, bringing his hands down to pull her hair away, his head bent as he watched her ministrations intently.
"Patience, professor," she teased, her lips grazing him as she spoke.
She swiped her tongue against his already-weeping tip, tasting his salty muskiness on her tongue and going back for more. She drew just the head of him in, hollowing her cheeks as she applied pressure, and was rewarded with a tortured moan. Rolling her tongue over him, she dropped down another inch.
"Oh, sweet Merlin," he hissed when she pulled back only to plunge back down. He watched as she bought a hand to her breast, kneading the soft flesh before flicking open another button, affording him a slightly-obscured view of tantalizing cleavage.
Hermione dropped down again, taking as much of him as she could in to her mouth, humming a little when his fingers flexed against her scalp. She pulled back just as he thrust his hips, grinning around his length just before she began her torture in earnest.
Remus didn't know how much more he could take as her sweet mouth engulfed him, her hands coming up to tease him at the same time, rolling his balls in one hand as she tweaked her own nipples. The fact that she was here, in his office, dressed as she was, was enough to send his body into oblivion. He felt that familiar release washing over him, just as the witch chose to pull away, falling back on her heels, panting heavily.
He was gasping for breath, his climax abated momentarily, but still so very close to the surface. She maintained eye-contact as her fingers worked nimbly down the line of buttons until she could part the familiar white shirt, revealing both her peaked, rosy nipples and the fact that she wore no underwear.
"I want you," she whispered, leaning forward to grip his knees, bringing herself up to kiss him with so much passion he feared he would catch fire. Hermione dominated the kiss, slanting her tongue over his, tracing his lips and rubbing her breasts against his chest. He gripped her hips and tried to pull her into his lap, but she was having none of it.
Pulling away with a shake of her head, she gripped both his hands and pulled him shakily to his feet. Spinning around to face the desk, she bent over to brace both hands against it and turned her head around to stare at him, her eyes practically begging him to take her.
Never one to give up a challenge, Remus shucked off his robes in record time and hopped out of his pants in a flurried blur of limbs. When he was as free from his clothes as he was willing to get, he came up behind her, running his hands up her thighs to grip the firm, rounded-globes of her buttocks.
It was just as he suspected. She wore nothing underneath.
"You're going to be the death of me," he groaned, leaning forward to gently bite her earlobe, pushing her skirt over her hips and lining himself up with her entrance, teasing the slick folds with his own arousal. She panted and moaned beneath him, rolling her hips to try and gain more friction.
"Remus, please..." she moaned, forgetting their roles as need overcame her.
Remus gave a wolfish grin at the sound of her supplication and plunged inside her tight sheath. Hermione cried out, dropping to her elbows. He held still inside her for a moment, both of them panting heavily as the delicious sensations caused small wildfires to break out between them.
He pulled back moments later, only to slam back into her with such force that the whole desk shifted forward. Hermione cried out again, her body now trembling and Remus lost control. He pulled back as far as her body allowed, and repeated the thrust, hitting her sweet spot. His hips became a blur as a certain kind of frenzy - one he only allowed when he was with her - overcame him.
Hermione was helpless but to take his thrusts, feeling her walls tighten painfully around him, her orgasm hitting her hard and swift. Remus practically howled when her tight walls convulsed around him, gripping and pulling, drawing out the release that was equally fast and so satisfying he never wanted it to end.
He continued to thrust until his body could take no more, his legs giving way as he dropped back on to his chair. His grip on her hips meant she was forced to follow, falling weakly in his lap, her whole body slack with post-coital bliss. He nuzzled her neck as they regained their breath.
"Have I been sufficiently punished, Professor?" she panted, turning so that she could fold her arms around his neck, kissing his lips gently and pulling back with a sigh.
"Hm... not quite," he answered, kissing her again as his fingers came up to tweak one rosy nipple.
"Oh?" she asked, her head falling back as her eyes closed in bliss.
"I think a months worth of detention will suffice," he grinned, kissing up her neck.
"Only a month?" she asked, opening her eyes which sparkled with mirth.
"You're right, better make it two," he grinned.
"McGonagall would be proud," she teased, moments before her lips captured his again.
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