This story is set in Grimmauld Place, in the same situation as in Order of the Phoenix, but it is written as though Hermione is much older than she was during that book. There's no discussion of her age in the story, but she's definitely an adult.
Relief Valve
By Louise Hilton
It had never occurred to Snape that he would actually take her up on her suggestion. Not until right now.
He liked to think of himself as being totally in control of his emotions, and he was, when it mattered. But when the only cost was to himself, he let the feelings seep out just a little. Just enough to keep himself from exploding. He had never even realized it until she spoke of it, and she had been absolutely right. She always was.
Of course, she had been drunk when she first raised the subject, and he had played along with what he had assumed to be facetious banter. It didn't for one moment cross his mind that she was serious in her suggestion.
~~ SS ~~ SS ~~
He had been alone in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place the night the conversation happened. Several things had fallen into place in the last few days and he was feeling satisfied with the progress of certain plans. Finding the kitchen deserted after midnight, he had sat at the large kitchen table, put his feet up on a chair and poured himself a fire-whiskey.
The peace was disturbed when she had entered the room and flopped onto the chair opposite.
"That's what I was looking for," she said, pulling the bottle towards herself and pouring a generous measure into her empty glass. It clearly wasn't her first glass of the evening.
He ignored her and they sat in silence for several minutes.
"You're in a good mood," she commented, eventually.
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"I'm serious," she continued. "You seemed relaxed earlier this evening. Almost cheerful."
"You know how I like to look on the bright side of life," he said, drily.
She didn't smile. "You've been under a lot of pressure lately. It's not good for you."
"I'm touched by your concern."
"Actually, I'm mostly concerned for those of us who have to deal with you."
"My good mood is evaporating quickly, Granger. Is there a point that you're trying to make?"
"There is." She paused. "I'm offering to be a relief valve. A way for you to let off steam when things are bad."
He hadn't expected that, though he was exactly sure what 'that' was. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about when you're under pressure and you're stressed out or angry. You can use me to release some of your stress."
He sneered at the absurdity. "Are you suggesting that having someone to yell at would make me less 'stressed out' as you put it?"
She smirked. "I was thinking more about physical stress."
He looked at the bottle of fire-whisky as she refilled her glass, then copied her action, wondering what in Merlin's name she was suggesting. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
"I have no idea what you're doing when you spend time away from here, Professor, but it's generally assumed you're Dumbledore's spy. It has to be difficult and dangerous. You sometimes come to headquarters completely wound up. You storm about, angry and tense, slamming doors and looking like you're going to punch a hole in a stone wall."
He swung his feet off the chair to face her directly across the table.
"I must be misunderstanding what you're saying. You said I could use you to... Are you suggesting that I direct my aggression at you?"
The smirk was more pronounced this time.
He suddenly let out an uncharacteristic burst of laughter. "You're suggesting I fuck you to relieve my stress? Exactly how much have you had to drink, Granger?"
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting. I think a healthy fuck would do you good when you're so wound up."
He met her challenging gaze with amusement. "You may have a point, but I don't think you fully appreciate the level of emotion I'm holding back when I'm like that. And as you point out, i have a tendency to express it as anger and wanting to lash out. Do you really believe you could cope with that level of fury channeled through your delicate little body?"
"First of all, don't underestimate me, Professor. You should have learned that by now. Secondly, I am certainly not offering myself as a punching bag. I'm talking about sex - passionate, intense, even angry sex if you like - but not violence. You'd have to agree to a safe word."
"Pigmy-puff, perhaps?" he sneered. He had to admit that the sheer ridiculousness of the conversation was entertaining. "And in case I really have underestimated you and you're just too much for me, my safe word could be Flobberworm."
She giggled. "I'll try to be gentle with you."
~~ SS ~~ SS ~~
"Thank you for the hangover potion you left for me," she had told him the next morning as they passed in the hall.
He merely nodded.
"You added something so I would remember everything I said when I was drunk," she commented.
He smirked at her. "I thought it might do you good to know how foolishly you behaved. There's nothing like embarrassment for reminding someone how dangerous it is to drink more than they can handle."
She laughed. "Embarrassment? Not at all." she stepped closer to him and spoke softly but with confidence. "I admit that I was a little less inhibited and more bold than usual last night, but I'm completely sober now and I stand by every word I said."
That had been about a month ago.
~~ SS ~~ SS ~~
He knocked with a gentleness that he did not feel, and waited as he heard movement from inside the room. It was almost midnight and he guessed that she had been in bed. The dressing gown pulled haphazardly around her seemed to confirm this.
Without giving her time to say anything, he stepped inside the room and grabbed her arm roughly. She flinched.
"Do you remember the safe word we discussed?" he demanded.
A glint came into her eyes. "I remember," she confirmed.
He closed the door with his free hand, then pulled out his wand to lock the door and cast a soundproofing charm on the room. Then he forcefully grabbed both of her arms and kissed her. He pressed his lips bruisingly against hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Although he was barely giving her the ability to move, he felt her responding to him and challenging his tongue, fiercely.
Letting go of her arms he slid one hand into her hair and the other around her waist, pulling her roughly against him. Her lithe body pressed back and he felt a slight moan arise in her throat.
He reached for her dressing gown and pulled it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, revealing what she presumably had been sleeping in - a short, sleeveless t-shirt and matching panties. He had never thought about her body until the night of that drunken conversation, and only in passing since then. Even if he had, he would not have imagined a form so perfect.
"I think fucking you might be exactly what I need," he growled.
"I told you so," she said. "You should…"
Without letting her finish, he grabbed her wrists and raised them above her head, pushing her back against the wall. Pinning them both to the wall with one hand, he used his other to grasp her hair and force her head up to meet his lips once again.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to shut you up, Granger," he snarled, "but I never thought it would be like that." He kept her wrists pinned and used his free hand, with surprising dexterity, to undo the many buttons of his frock-coat.
"And you don't know how long I've wanted you," she told him.
Without warning, he suddenly pushed aside the crotch of her underwear and slid a long finger into her, causing her to gasp.
"So wet," he observed. He slowly withdrew the finger and brought it to her lips. "Taste yourself," he commanded.
She licked around the tip of his finger, then sucked it into her mouth, her eyes on his the whole time.
With a surge of need, he pulled his finger from her mouth, released her arms and pushed down on her shoulders. She sank to her knees and he quickly unbuttoned his trousers. She released him from his boxers and her lips parted to run her tongue over him, but he had no wish for teasing or gentleness. He wound his fingers into her hair and thrust himself into her. She let out a startled noise which might have been a cry had her mouth not been full of him. He pulled back and thrust again, realizing but not for the moment caring that she could not use her safe word while he was doing this. But the way her mouth was sucking him, and the way one of her hands had reached up to cup and caress his balls told him that she wouldn't be using it even if she could.
She gave a stifled moan, the vibrations causing his cock to react even more strongly. Holding her head firmly, he thrust into her again and again.
Suddenly he pulled out, breathing hard.
"Not yet," he insisted. "I want you on the bed."
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her up from her knees, then pushed her onto the bed.
Taking out his wand, he cast a silent incarcerous, and thin silvery ropes snaked from his wand, binding her arms to the top of the bed.
"Perfect," he said, allowing his eyes to explore her helpless body while he removed his clothes, letting them fall to the floor.
He covered her body with his own. Her hips ground against his cock.
"I want you inside me," she moaned.
He grabbed one of her pert nipples through the thin cotton of her shirt and squeezed it hard. She let out a sharp gasp and her face showed a flash of pain and pleasure.
"Patience, Granger," he told her in a low, slow voice. "You'll get what you want. I can keep going all night, and I'm not selfish. I get off on hearing a woman gasp and moan, and feeling her body shudder as I pleasure her over and over again." Her eyes were closed and her breathing fast and shallow. "Do you like that idea?"
"Gods, yes!"
Moving his body downwards, he slid his hands inside her shirt and pulled it up over her breasts. He couldn't help but let out a low, throaty growl at the sight of them. His mouth took one nipple and his fingers the other - squeezing, sucking, caressing. For a moment, he reflected that there might be a time he would enjoy spending hours being tender and gentle with those glorious breasts, but right now he wanted to squeeze them - hurt them - possess them. He moved his mouth to the side and bit her - not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make her cry out in surprise and pain. He liked the sound and repeated the action on the underside of the other breast.
Without warning, he pulled sharply at her panties, ripping one side as he pulled them off her. Immediately, his tongue slid into her warm folds, finding her clitoris and giving it a hard flick. The noise that came from her was something between a moan and a shriek. He flicked again, enjoying the combination of her shock and pleasure. His hands gripped her buttocks as his tongue jabbed mercilessly at her, working her into a frenzy of gasps. She started to buck and shudder under him, but he didn't relent until she was crying out in pleasure.
Gradually, she came down from her high and her breathing began to slow.
Hungrily, he plunged his tongue back into her and brought her, almost instantly, back to her orgasm. This time she released with what was almost a scream.
A moment later he had released her arms, pulled her to the edge of the bed, and thrown her onto her stomach. With his knees on the floor between hers, he thrust hard into her wetness from behind. She gasped, hardly able to catch her breath. He plunged deep and vigorously into her, enjoying the moans he elicited from her with every thrust.
He was ready to release, but held himself back, wanting to enjoy this feeling of pounding hard into her for longer. He gripped her hips and pulled her back to meet him every time he pushed forward.
Her arms were stretched out in front of her on the bed, and he could see her hands balling into fists and feel her body tensing. He kept up his relentless hammering rhythm until he knew she was ready once more. With a few final deep thrusts he brought them both to climax and they cried out together.
He leaned his body forward against her back and lay there for a minute, both of them breathing heavily, then he slowly pulled out of her. The two of them moved to lay on the bed and rested there, her head on his chest. It took several minutes for their breathing to return to calm down.
"You've always been an insufferable know-it-all, Granger," he told her, after a while, stroking her back, "but I have to say that this was the best idea you've ever had."
She laughed. "You're still calling me 'Granger'," she observed. "Don't you think we should be on first name terms by now?"
"Perhaps. But maybe I need to be fully relaxed before agreeing to that."
She laughed again. "We've not relieved all of your stress yet, then?"
He gave a growl and rolled on top of her once again. "We've made a good start, but I told you - I can keep going all night, and we have hours left until morning."
He bent his head to cover her lips with his own. They kissed long and deep, the urgent, angry need replaced with a gentler form of passion. Maybe this time he should take his time with those incredible breasts …
~~ SS ~~ SS ~~
Hermione woke late, still tired but feeling incredibly relaxed. As she moved, her body felt aching and bruised, but it had been worth it to feel the full force of the emotion he needed to release. The bed next to her was empty, as she knew it would be, but she didn't mind. Severus would be back.
She smiled and went back to sleep.