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Love Is What You Make Of It	By : elsbeth Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 1589 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Love Is What You Make Of It
- 1
This is ostensibly Hermione and Severus to each other, but it could be me and my Dear Hubby, who is only slightly less snarky. He doesn't know I write this "Potter Porn" as he calls it when he teases me for reading it.

I wrote it originally for Valentines Day, and am reposting here with both parts together. This was the first thing I wrote and posted, more ideas are in my head, its just hard to get time.

Disclaimer-I do not own the characters or settings mentioned. They are J.K.R.'s and I am grateful to get to play with them (and mutate them slightly).

For My Husband

Why I Love You...

For your hands.

You have the most beautiful hands...large and strong. Sometimes as we are working together I look at your hands and have a flashback to what those hands were doing to me the night before and I totally lose track of my work.

You stroke my cats with those hands while muttering something about "keeping ALL the pussies happy..." and it makes me all tingly to watch.
For your smirk.

You smirk at me when you've just climbed 2 flights of stairs behind me and caressed my ass the whole way and now you're watching me try to make coherent conversation with people instead of sounding like a blethering idiot.

I can feel your smirk in the dark, when you've just coaxed another orgasm from my sated body when I thought I couldn't possibly come again and I thought I was too sleepy for sex anyway, and you pull me spoon fashion against you and purr in my ear "now go to sleep"

while your hands are doing things that make sleep most unlikely.
For your snarky attitude.

When you tell me for about the thousandth time, in your driest and most put-upon voice, that life would be so much simpler if I would just "listen to your husband" but your eyes are laughing.

I say I think you are reading my mind, and you just smile and say "some books are easy".

And when I tell you if I get as crazy as your Mother in my old age shoot me, and you say we'll take a walk in the woods and only one will come out, and I'm SO besotted with you that I interpret that to mean "I'll always be there and take care of you" and I feel all warm and comforted.
For the things you do to me in bed.

After 20 years of marriage you make me feel young and hot and sexy; I, who was a bookworm and too smart for my own good, and could count on one hand the number of times I had ever had an orgasm with anyone else when I married you. You make me come again and again until I lose conscious thought and all language skills and can only pant and moan.

I snuggle up to you when you go to sleep. You're so very warm, and even in sleep your hands are possessive and find my intimate places.
For the two fine sons you've given me.

They are such a fascinating mix of the two of us. The eldest is a copy of you physically, but is so earnest and forthright and has a tender and vulnerable heart. The youngest looks like me, but at 16 already has your smirk and your dry, snarky wit. Gryffindor and Slytherin if ever there was such, but both with enough concern for family politics and enough intelligence that they talked the sorting hat into Ravenclaw instead.
For just being you.

I thought I loved you when I married you. But I woke up one morning and realized I was so in love I couldn't live without you. I don't care anymore if its magic or potions or just that you're addictive. You have my heart.

For my Wife

Why You Will Always Be Mine.
HOW do I love you?

Let me count the ways...

On the bed, the headboard, the footboard,

on the couch and all the chairs (in one evening),

on all the appliances,

on the kitchen table,

on Molly Weasley's kitchen table,

on my Teacher's desk (THAT was a fantasy come true),

in the forest (I LOVE things forbidden),

in Albus' office (after I covered the portraits),

in Slytherin Common Room,

in GRYFFINDOR common room,

in the halls after hours,

and all the other usual suspects.
WHY do I love you?

Because I want to fuck every part of you, repeatedly.

Your nipples-They pucker so tightly from my tongue or my TEETH. Your breasts are so soft and your nipples so hard when I come up behind you during the day and reach around and play until you give in and lean back against me. Your butt is so round and soft and turns so delightfully PINK from my hand. Your pussy is so hot and slick and willing, sometimes you squeeze my cock with muscles I didn't even know women HAD until I can hardly stand it. Your eyes are so knowing, so understanding, so loving, and sometimes so HOT. I want to fuck your eyes.
For your innocence.

You've seen the worst of me. I told you I wasn't good before you married me. I've taken my worst out on your small, soft, warm body and you LIKE IT. I've taken you every which way (including TIED UP) and when I'm done you STILL snuggle up to me and go trustingly to sleep.
For your intelligence and will.

You're the only woman I've known who stands up to me and refuses to be intimidated. You stand a foot shorter than me and tell me off and when I smirk at you, you threaten hexes. You're not afraid to tell me NO. And, of course, you have the good sense to STAY with me.
For our sons.

I thought I disliked children. I had no idea how it would feel to see myself stamped on another's face, to find my own slipperiness and stealth used against me by a TEN-YEAR-OLD. Sometimes I find myself feeling more in league with them, than like their father. Our eldest has more Slytherin in him than you give him credit for, my Gryffindor wife. And our youngest is as subtly sneaky as they come.
For your faith.

You believe in the light, you believe I AM part of the light, and you believe the light will ALWAYS win out over the darkness. The Slytherin part of me sneers at your naivete, but there is a part of me buried deep that stands in awe of a faith so unshakeable that it can move heaven and earth into alignment. If hell itself can't stand against your faith how could I. I bow to your will, my sweet. I will be good (relatively speaking).
And you will always be mine.
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Love Is What You Make Of It