Lost in Translation .｡*･ﾟﾟ
Summary: Hermione didn't know whether to be curious or laugh at the situation she had ended up putting her boyfriend in, even if unintentionally.
hermione granger x m!reader
WARNING: slightly NSFW thoughts and actions.
Hermione Granger prided herself on being a woman of patience.
She had, after all, spent years tolerating Ron’s lack of tact, Harry’s reckless impulses, and an entire school full of people who thought she was just a know-it-all bookworm. So, yes—patience was something she had in abundance.
Today was testing her limits.
"How long does it take to take a bloody shower?" she muttered under her breath, tapping her foot against the wooden floor of your house.
It had been twenty minutes. She had already packed the bags, checked the itinerary twice, and reminded herself that she was going to have fun on this trip, despite her boyfriend’s absolute refusal to hurry up.
Marching down the hallway, she stopped right outside the bathroom door and knocked firmly.
"Are you almost done?" she called, exasperated. "We’re supposed to be leaving soon!"
There was a beat of silence, followed by the faint sound of rushing water and then—
"Calm down, I want to cum!"
"What?" she asked, slowly, hands freezing midair as she reached to knock again.
A beat of silence. Then, from inside the bathroom—
Inside the bathroom, you panicked. "WAIT—NO. THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"
Hermione’s lips curled into a slow, teasing smirk. "Oh?" she said, leaning casually against the bathroom door. "Then what exactly did you mean, love?"
"I meant I’m almost DONE!" you practically shouted, your voice rushed and desperate to fix the situation. "With the shower!"
Hermione hummed, tilting her head slightly. "Mhm… sure."
"I AM NOT—" You groaned loudly, your forehead hitting the shower tiles in pure mortification.
But Hermione? She was intrigued.
The thought hadn’t really crossed her mind before—not in a serious way, at least—but now, standing outside the bathroom door, hearing the panic in your voice and picturing you naked under the spray of hot water, her imagination decided to take a very uncharacteristic turn.
And, well… she was only human.
"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice dropping just slightly, just enough to let a hint of mischief seep in. "Because if you are busy… I wouldn’t want to interrupt."
The silence on the other side was deafening.
"Hermione," your voice came out strangled, low, almost pleading. "You are killing me."
She bit her lip, enjoying this far too much. "Am I?"
Hermione hesitated for only a moment before pressing a hand lightly against the door.
"Would it be so bad?" she mused, voice deceptively innocent. "If I did interrupt?"
Your breath hitched. "Merlin, Hermione."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face. Now this was interesting.
A pause. Then, "The door isn’t locked."
Hermione’s breath caught slightly, her fingers twitching against the wood. The rational part of her brain told her to be reasonable, to walk away—but the rest of her?
The rest of her decided, to hell with reason.
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