Please kink up my Kristmas with:
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Minerva/Hermione
Kink(s): voyeurism
Anti-Kink(s) (AKA Squicks): teacher/student (so please let Hermione be long out of school)
Prompt: Books

Claiming for member

Minerva had come into the library for a book, of course she had, what other reason did one come to a library? She certainly wasn’t looking to find anyone in the Restricted Section, wasn’t looking to watch as someone who’d used their transfiguration skills for rule-breaking purposes, sit curled in the largest, coziest overstuffed chair she’d ever seen. She certainly hadn’t come to watch someone look more comfortable and at home there in the Restricted Section than she’d ever looked in her life.

Minerva stands in the shadows, watching Hermione and wonders if she’s ever looked as content and like she belongs as Hermione does there with her large tomb opened, her finger running along the lines of the page, pausing occasionally as if her eyes had to stop to let her mind keep up, before she rushed on again. Her teeth mark grooved wounds along the wooded side of the quill in her mouth as she mumbles over the words. She’d used another quill to hold her wild tangled hair back in a loose bun at the base of her neck. Strands fall out of the bun and into her face and she huffs irritatedly each time she has to push them behind her ear with the fingers not holding her place on the page.

Years ago, Minerva would have broken her newest staff member’s concentration with a scolding about knowing her place and setting an example. Years ago she would have taken her jealousy and bitterness about not thinking of it first out on her young Transfiguration professor, her replacement.

Now though, now she just wants to watch.

She wants to watch as Hermione continues to flip pages, back and forth as if looking for something. She wants to watch as she takes the quill out of her mouth and hastily writes notes in a scroll that when not being used, is curled up and wedged between Hermione’s thigh and the chair. She wants to watch as the strain of hunching over a text wears on Hermione as she clutches and massages the tendons at the back of her neck.

Minerva notices the heat rising in the room as the same time Hermione seems to as she shrugs off her robe and raises her wand to lower the flame of the fire that burns across the room.

Minerva twirls her wandless hand at her side, whispering out a silencing charm before she slides out of her own robe as well. The Silencing Charm goes into effect just in time, because Hermione readjusts the book she’s been devoted to and Minerva moans.

The Lost Stanzas of Sappho

“Oh, sweet Aphrodite,” Minerva gasps. Such sweet torture she thinks.

Years ago when Hermione had come to her and asked if she’d ever read any Sappho, Minerva’s heart had skipped. Minerva didn’t know if Hermione understood what she was admitting with that question. Was that still how queer girls outed themselves to each other? It had been in her day, she'd remembered fondly.

She soon learned that it was still how it was done and that Hermione had known exactly what she was confessing. For Hermione though, it wasn’t just Sappho the poet, the lyricist and writer--those were all important to Hermione, as they had always been to Minerva--but for Hermione what tantalized her the most about Sappho was her as teacher. Teacher of young women in the ways of love. Or that’s how Hermione described it to Minerva all those years ago.

And now here she was, this one time student of Minerva’s, alone--or so she assumed--in an almost empty castle, in a dark lonely corner of a forbidden space and she’s reading, investigating, delving deeper, quill in her mouth, hand moving from the tightened neck muscles down along her throat and clavicle. She unbuttons the second button of her blouse and Minerva whimpers, wondering if Hermione knows she’s being watched.

She swipes at the loose hair at her temple again and Minerva sees that she’s got ink blotched along her jaw. When Hermione undoes the next button, Minerva imagines there’s ink there too, marking her, telling her story.

Minerva steadies herself against the wall and closes her eyes, imagining Hermione laid bare before her, imagines her fingers running along Hermione’s spine, trembling with anticipation at all the adventures the pages of her skin held. She can almost smell her as if she’s opened her covers, the aroma as tantalizing as the lignen that permeates the ancient volumes. The scent overwhelms her and she opens her eyes to see that it wasn’t imagination at all. While she had her eyes closed, laying out a scene for her own pleasure, Hermione had completely undressed and was doing the same.

The tip of Hermione’s fingers tease the nub of her breast until it responds by hardening into a pebble. She pinches it and cries out with the sensation. Minerva watches the skin of Hermione’s breast and throat prickle and Minerva longs to run her mouth along the skin, reading it’s braille messages with her tongue. She also yearns to touch herself like Hermione is, mimicking her fingers walking down her stomach. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to miss any of the chapter being revealed to her with the distraction of her own pleasure. There’d be time for that.

Hermione arches her back, pulling her legs over the arm of the chair. Minerva couldn’t see exactly what Hermione’s fingers were doing, but she didn’t have to, she could feel it watching Hermione’s face, listening to her breath, held and then raggedly expelled with moans and whimpers.

She bites her lip and her eyes squint as if she’s worrying over a problem she couldn’t solve. Like there was a word that danced at the tip of her tongue that won’t come. The scholar that she is, Hermione doesn’t give up, she readjusts herself, her hips stop pumping front to back and instead side to side. She’s moving faster, Minerva watches her arm rise and fall and she realizes how much she aches to be touched herself.

Then Hermione begins to murmur just loud enough for Minerva to hear her and what she says, the way she says it goes straight to Minerva’s middle with a throb.

“Blushing sweet...
on a high branch...
at the tip of the tallest tree...
You escaped those who would...
pluck...
your...
fruit…”

As Minerva watches Hermione come undone, watches her spasm and pant the last line out, she murmurs the rest of the stanza, not worried about being heard through the Silencing Charm.

“Not that they didn’t try. No,
they could not forget you
poised beyond their reach.”

And Merlin did Minerva want to reach out, to pluck, to taste, to mingle her own story along the lines of Hermione’s.

Hermione sits up and gathers the book and parchment that had fallen to the floor. Minerva was just about to slink away.

“I can see you over there, you know.” Hermione says, looking over her shoulder to where Minerva stands.

Minerva freezes, caught. Then she drops the charm and steps into the room. “You could not. The students might think we have eyes in the back of our heads, but I know differently.”

“Okay, maybe I couldn’t see you. But I could sense you.”

“Oh really? And what did you sense?”

Hermione blushed. “I sensed that you too wanted to take advantage of the castle’s lack of occupancy and join me for some…ah... reading.”

Minerva comes to join her, sitting on the arm of the chair, where Hermione’s legs were moments before. She picks up Hermione’s hand and kisses her palm. “Always, my love.”

Hermione slides off the chair and stands before Minerva. She’s still naked, still smudged with ink. She reaches back to the quill holding what little of the bun that didn’t dislodge earlier and hands it to Minerva. “Do you want to read?” She summoned a pot of ink. “Or do you want to write?”

Minerva didn’t even have to weigh her options. She transfigures the quill to a thin bristled paintbrush and dips it into the ink.

“Right here?” Minerva asks, hovering over Hermione’s breast indicating that the question is rhetorical at best.

“Don’t you think our story belongs here in the library, surrounded by all these other stories, these other adventures?”

Minerva licks her lip and begins the downward stroke of the first word of their story right above Hermione’s areola. “I know the story I want to tell belongs here in the Restricted Section.”

Hermione stills Minerva’s hand and leans in for a kiss. “Make Sappho proud, professor.”

That was fucking gorgeous, not just everything about this is sexy and sexual, but the way Minerva sees Hermione is incredible. There's so much there, and to know Hermione knew, that she gave Minerva that, perfect. Seriously, sexy and beautiful. <3

Thank you so much for reading! And thank you for being such a lovely supporter of me and my writing. You are the best! ♥♥

Oh, lovely, and so right for the pair of them. I love the use of Sappho and the mix of poetry and sex.

Thank you! I really wasn't expecting these two to just speak to me like they did for this story. Thanks for reading.

♥

TJ!!!! You have done it again -- given me a fabulous Minerva Christmas present. I just love the way you combine reading and writing and loving, all the many ways that women can become each other's texts. I like the way you hint at the relationship backstory here. . .just as much as we need to know, giving depth to the whole proceeding. Inky Hermione is a delight, and I laughed aloud at the banter.

So many fabulous lines (including your choices from Sappho). First of all, you create such a hot picture of Hermione as she reads; I can just see the wonderfully-tumbled hair and her look of concentration.

Was that still how queer girls outed themselves to each other?
Love this.

trembling with anticipation at all the adventures the pages of her skin held
This is the essence of book porn for me: the notions of writing the body.

in an almost empty castle, in a dark lonely corner of a forbidden space and she’s reading, investigating, delving deeper,
Love this connection of the forbidden power of sexuality and reading, so many things that have been women's "restricted section" for so long.

Like there was a word that danced at the tip of her tongue that won’t come.
Yes! Perfect simile.

And Merlin did Minerva want to reach out, to pluck, to taste, to mingle her own story along the lines of Hermione’s.
Mmmmmm.

Gorgeous prose, gorgeous images. Thank you, thank you, my dear.

KELLY! You leave the best prompts! ♥ Books ♥ ♥ Voyeurism ♥ ♥ Minerva/Hermione ♥ Hello--catnip right there, my darling! I love exploring Minerva for you and trying hard to get her just right for you. ♥

I'm so relieved the Sappho worked for you. I was worried that it might be a bit too cliche, but I just fell in love with the idea of that being what got them started in their new chapter. ♥♥

This is gorgeous! What a lovely, sexy story!!

Thank you! ♥♥

This was gorgeous! Sexy and sensual, and I loved the use of Sappho.

Thank you! Once I got the Sappho part sorted, the rest sort of wrote itself. ♥ I'm glad it worked for you. ♥

What an amazing fill for that prompt! I love the image of Hermione letting go and wanking, naked and covered in ink, in the chair, all the while knowing that Minerva is watching her. Hermione can be sooo sneaky and this was a great use of that aspect of her. I also really loved the way that even though this fic was a pwp comment fill, it also got into some big meta stuff at the same time--secret knowledge being passed down through generations, like the coded question about Sappho, and the history of secret knowledge between women. The idea of Sappho as a teacher, and Minerva as a teacher, and how difficult and elating it can be for a woman to finally gain knowledge about herself and her desire and connection to other women. Really well done!

Thank you! ♥

This story went to an oddly, weirdly personal place. Not in the "this is a story that happened to me" way, but in an exploration of things I'd long thought I'd sorted about myself but maybe not way. ;) I'm glad it came across as storytelling meta and not weirdly uncomfortable confessional. ;)

♥

Oh my god, this was STUNNING! So sensual and gorgeous -- both women were written so well, and the voyeurism was off the charts hot. I'm blown away.

*blush*

Thank you so much for making my day with this comment. ♥

Oh, UNF!! God, this was so sensual and lyrical and sexy as hell. Love it!

Aww! Thanks, bb! ♥

Awww hot and sweet.

*blushes*

Thanks! ♥

Wow! That's book porn in its best and purest form. That line about the story on her skin (which I can't quote now because it's in another comment from this one) and the whole imagery you use.

And Sappho's lines are so perfectly chosen.

What a treat!

Wow! That's book porn in its best and purest form.

Awww, thank you! It's a kink I hardly get to write and jump when I get the chance. ♥