Hermione Granger Imagines

𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇; 𝑒𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝓈𝑜𝓃; 𝓅𝓉𝟥

Emma woke up the next morning to an empty bed, she frowned, rolling back over. She sighed, wiping at her eyes. She had zero plans today, one weekend a month she'd clear the entire weekend just for Y/n. Normally Y/n would be occupying her in the morning- and the shower- and the kitchen- and sometimes the couch. 

That wasn't the point, Y/n wasn't in the bed, and Emma had grown so used to it, her arousal was growing. Where the hell was she? The shower wasn't running, the bathroom door was opened, there was no one inside. The next place was the closet she wasn't in there. The TV in the living room wasn't on, she couldn't hear anything in the kitchen.

This whole mystery could've been figured out if she looked at her bedside table, there was a note. 

Emma, I went out to buy some food. I know you'll miss me be back in a bit. xx Y/n. 

She groaned. She opened the bottom draw pulling something out and flipped the switch. 

It was fifteen minutes later, Y/n opened the door with her foot- like the badass she is- she set the bags down, a buzzing noise filled the air, with a string of moans. She knew that sound all too well. She closed the door locking it behind her, kicking her shoes off, taking her coat off. She hurried into the bedroom, at the sight of Emma legs spread. 

"Couldn't wait?" Y/n smirked, walking slowly over to her. "Come on, I wasn't gone that long." Emma tugged her down onto her, wrapping her legs around her waist. "Jesus, alright, needy."

"Shut up, and kiss me," she moaned out, the toy being pushed further into her. "Fuck," she breathed out. Y/n moved to Emma's neck, Emma did her a favor in already removing her clothing. "God," she whispered. 

Y/n got a shower, and went to the kitchen, cooking something to eat while Emma showered. Y/n didn't think she could've accepted the payment, she had fun, it was a getaway for her. She had more than enough money by now, and there wasn't much else she needed. 

As she was chopping vegetable she felt someone behind her, she turned around and smiled. Emma smiled back, "What are you cooking?" 

"Something," Y/n grinned, before turning back around. 

"Something?" Emma repeated.

"Yes."

"Alright," she moved to the couch. She turned the TV on flipping through channels, "Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but you can add another one," she said, stirring the food in the pan. 

"Why do you still do this?" she paused, "this," she gestured between the two of them. "I imagine you have a lot of money now, you are pretty, so why?" 

"You keep good company? Or maybe because I don't mind it, it's nice," she paused, "this," she gestured between the two of them. "I will admit I could've stopped along time ago, after the first time really, it's more money than I need, more money than I know what to do with. I just suppose maybe it's nice."

Emma didn't respond she thought for a second. In her mind she was thinking, just thinking. "I would love nothing more than to let you think, but the food is ready. I wouldn't worry about it, I'm not gonna milk you die of your money then leave. If I am being honest- which I am assuming you wish- half the time- well most of the time I don't want the money," she finished, as she plated the food. "Listen, I mean it, it's good company, and it's nice." 

"Thanks," she smiled as she sat down in front of her. Emma wanted more than once a month, more than twelve times a year. Maybe she wanted months, or years, but one thing was for certain, she wanted 'this.'