"If It Were Me" for [livejournal.com profile] bunney

May. 2nd, 2009 01:57 am
darkrivertempest: (Dramione Dance)
[personal profile] darkrivertempest
In response to a drabble prompt by [livejournal.com profile] bunney

Draco and Hermione would be lovely - longish fics are always good, and a little dark angst with my wicked, taboo romance makes my day bright and shiny!

About a day or so after I got this prompt, the idea hit me while I was coding medical records. How `effed up is that? *snorts* I'm sorry I made you wait so long, hun - please don't hurt me.

Rated: NC-17, MA, AO - whichever acronym you respond to, heed it!

Word count: 1,039! *sobs* Well, you did say you wanted it longish, so at least that's fulfilled.

Beta'd by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] imbloodyenglish , but I'm so tired right now, if you find mistakes, they're my own because I couldn't see the screen.



Her girlish giggle bothered him.

Not so much bothered, but irritated him beyond reason that it was squandered on an idiot like Weasley. Observing from the shadows, Draco Malfoy watched as Ron fumbled clumsily with Hermione Granger, trying to divest her of her robes. So far though, he would’ve had better luck if he’d stuck his finger in a Muggle light socket for all that he knew where to put his dick.

“C’mon, `Mione, I know you like me… it’s written all over your face,” Ron cajoled, tugging at her tie.

Must be a tit man, to go for the shirt first, Draco mused, disgusted with the sloppy display. If it were me, I wouldn’t waste time with the top half, just get straight to the goods and make us both scream.

“Stop, Ron, I mean it.”

If it were me.

“Prude,” the redhead spat, shoving her away from him. “You’re such a cock-tease.”

Draco could see the tears skimming her lashes from his hiding place and the dragon inside of him roared at the injustice of the slur. Without thought to his surroundings, he withdrew from the shows and threw a well-aimed hex at the incompetent, would-be lover.

“Petrificus totalus!”

No time was given in which to counter the spell, as Ron stood frozen on the spot, tipping slightly to the right to lie propped against the marble wall, his eyes openly fixed and unmoving.

“I say, Weasley… you make a better door prop than a wizard these days,” Draco drawled, coming to stand behind a trembling Hermione.

Grabbing her hair, Draco viciously twisted it around in his fist until it was in a neat coil and jerked her backwards. “Did you like his hands on you?” he hissed in her ear.

Whimpering, she frantically shook her head and tried to break free, only to be tugged back against his chest. Winding her mass of curls into a bun, he stuck his own wand through the strands to keep it off her neck.

Her neck. Merlin, Draco was fascinated with her swan-like pose, and he began licking his way up the creamy column, hardening to the point of pain at her breathy gasps, as he nipped at her flesh.

“Did you want the Weasel to stick his pathetic excuse for a cock in your tight cunt, Granger?” he purred against her jaw, sliding his nimble fingers over her skirt and down her inner thigh.

Instead of shaking her head in the negative, she shifted until the cleft of her ass cradled his erection, grinding into him as she moaned, “Want only you.”

Smiling wickedly, Draco looked Ron straight in the eye as he fingered the hem of her skirt and dragged the material up her thigh, hooking his thumb on the outer seam of her knickers. Pulling them to the side, he slipped one long digit inside her wet pussy, lazily pumping until his hand was nearly coated in her juices.

“See, Weasel-bee, she only responds to my touch,” he goaded, ripping the stitching that held the light cotton material together. “If it were up to me, I would’ve castrated you long ago.”

Flipping up the back of her skirt, he caressed her bared cheeks, loving how smooth and taut they were, slapping the right one to make her move forward. “For now, I’ll give you a free demonstration on what to do with a woman as responsive as this.”

Placing a hand at the nape of her neck, Draco forced Hermione to bend over and grab her ankles, her rump high in the air as he unzipped his dress slacks and freed his cock with the other. “Isn’t her golden skin lovely? Perfection unmarred,” he cooed, then slapped her bum a little more forcefully, leaving a faint, pink handprint on her cheek.

A pained whimper issued from the redheaded wizard as Draco began stroking the head of his cock up and down her sodden slit, teasing her clit on several passes, relishing the fact he was doing this in front of one of her best mates. “The spell is starting to wear off, Granger… no more games.”

Without hesitation, Draco thrust into her slick, warm core, burying himself to the hilt as his eyes closed in bliss, her muscles tightening around him, both of them groaning in ecstasy at the contact. First he pumped shallowly, staving off the orgasm as long as he could before the hex on Weasely completely fizzled out.

Gripping her shoulder, he pulled her to a more upright position, pounding so forcefully, her breasts bounced without cease. “Aren’t her tits fabulous, Weasel? The way they move every time I fuck her cunt makes me want to spill myself.”

Quickening his pace, his body responded to her gasps and moans as he drove deeper within until he felt her walls begin to shudder. Fisting the coiled bun of her hair, he pulled on it until she was eye level with her friend, panting as he neared completion.

“Watch her sinfully beautiful eyes as they tell you who she belongs to,” Draco ground out, his hips pistoning brutally against her body.

Locking eyes with Ron, Hermione came apart at her orgasm, screaming only one name. “Draco!”

He shouted her own name in return until he was hoarse as he emptied his hot seed into her clutching womb. “Remind me never to piss you off,” he panted after several moments.

“We always have a row, Draco,” she pointed out blandly, fanning herself with her hand. “That’s why the make-up sex is so utterly hot.”

A gurgling sob escaped Ron’s lips, bringing him back to their focus. “I told you to keep your hands off me, Ron,” she snarled, leaning into a smug-looking Draco. “This was the only way I could think of that would possibly shock you into listening to me.”

Nuzzling just under her ear, Draco smiled softly, pressing small kisses on her face. “Like I said Weasley, I would’ve hexed your balls off… but that’s only if it were me.”

Before leaving, they positioned his stiff body near Tyrn the gargoyle to guard the parapet… and the thousands of birds that flocked there daily.

To this day, Ronald Weasley is deathly afraid of crows.
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