Let's Pour a Drink, Babe | By : Felgia_Starr Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I, by all, means, do not own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise, universe, and characters. I make nothing from this work. |
“Hello?”
“Draco!” Hermione exclaims, her loud voice making her own head pound. She does not mind it, though. All she cares about at the moment is finally hearing Draco’s gruff voice after a full week of avoiding him.
“Hermione?” Draco’s deep voice grumbles, her insides tingling at the way he said her name. She misses him so much.
“Baby, I just… I know it’s late, but I’m drinking and—the bottle you gave me! And I’m just really—” she hiccoughs, giggling a tad at her own goofiness. She has never called him ‘baby’ before. She suddenly wonders why she hasn’t because the word tastes so right on her tongue. “Draco, I…I’m just calling, you know, to ask you how is—are you okay?”
All of her thoughts, if they can even be called as such, mesh themselves into one incoherent statement. She feels her cheeks heating up as she realizes how embarrassing she is currently acting. She doesn’t want to act like this with Draco on the phone with her. She’s not even drunk yet. She knows herself when she is drunk. She laughs in the middle of conversations and cries almost immediately after. She hasn’t done that. She is not drunk. She needs to pull herself together if she wants Draco to stay on the phone with her.
She hears a sigh from his end before he tells her, “Yeah. I’m great, Hermione. You?”
Hermione doesn’t respond for a long time. She stares off into space, frowning pathetically at the awful purple tiles of her bathroom. He’s been doing great while she feels anything but complete ever since she walked away from his flat. Truth is she feels like shit because he isn’t with her every moment she finds herself missing him.
A sob forms in her throat and, having little control over what she’s doing, Hermione gives in to the emotions instantly, shoulders quaking as she cries in a truly grotesque manner.
“Hermione?”
“I miss you so much,” she sobs, hot tears contrasting against the now-cold water in the tub she’s spent two hours sitting on. “There’s—you know I was drinking and…I just thought of you and I miss you so much and I need you so much. I feel so alone and so…lonely and I really need you here—”
“Hermione, it’s 12:38 a.m.,” he says, sounding exasperated all of a sudden. His tone just made her cry even harder. She misses him so much.
“I know, but I really do need you now,” she whimpers, her hand forgetting all about the glass of whiskey she’s been holding, causing it to spill into the soapy water of the tub. “I know you hate me, but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m just really, really lonely, Draco, please come here. I need you, please. I love you. I’m sorry about all the shit I said last week. I miss you so much.”
“You’re drunk,” Draco states, his ignoring of her rambles making her heart clench and her eyes pour out more tears.
“Just come over,” she pleads, rubbing her eye in frustration. “We can…we can drink and shit. We’ll smoke, drink—anything you want! Just come here, please. Come over. I love you so much and I miss you. Come to me, please.”
“Hermione, we’re not together anymore,” he softly reminds her. “I love you too, but trust me when I say that you’ll regret this when morning comes.”
“No!” she yells, more tears dripping down her face as he continues to refuse to give in to her demands. “Let’s get back together. Let’s do what we did back then, Draco. Let’s get drunk off our arses and have fun. I need you back. I want you back.”
“Fuck,” she hears him mutter. “Hermione—”
“What I said last week, it doesn’t matter—I don’t mean it. I don’t want you with Astoria or any other girl. I just felt really jealous, you know? ‘Cause your parents really love her and she’s been with you since the beginning and, and—” she breaks into ugly-sounding sobs. The inside of her chest feels so tight and constricted. And she’s almost incapable of breathing properly at this point. Regardless, she keeps her mouth open. “And I saw a photo of you kissing her on Instagram. God, my world fell apart, you know? I didn’t even—I felt like I was nothing. I’m sorry if I—”
“Hermione.”
“—hurt you. I’m sorry if I’m overreacting. And…and if you d-don’t want to be with me anymore then that’s—that’s okay. If you’d rather be with Astoria, it’s okay with me, but just let me have this night, Draco. Please, I’ll let you—”
“Hermione, I’m coming over.”
“What?”
“I’m in my car, about seven minutes away. Wait for me.”
Hermione hiccoughs, finally halting her sobs for a short second. “Okay. I…I’ll wait.”
“I’m about to hang up, okay?” he tells her and her heart palpitates, realizing that Draco is finally coming over. “I love you. Wait for me.”
He hangs up before she can say that she loves him back, her words of returned love echoing back to her.
Hermione stumblingly gets up from her tub, almost losing her footing on the slippery tiles. She puts her phone on the sink, hastily tying her silk bathrobe together. She stares at the full tub, momentarily forgetting what she’s looking for. She quickly recalls that she’s been thinking of the glass of whiskey she was holding earlier. She searches for it with one hand in the tub, pulling it out when she manages to finally find it.
She walks out the bathroom, bottle of whiskey in one hand and her glass in the other. She gasps in shock when sees Draco in her bedroom, his face flushed and his hand holding a bouquet of roses. Has it already been seven minutes?
“Draco!”
His head snaps up to look at her. God, he’s gorgeous, his blond hair messily brushed up his head and his grey eyes looking as intense as ever. She can’t believe she broke up with this man last week.
“Hermione,” he says, swallowing audibly. “I…I still have the spare key that you, erm, gave me.”
She nods dumbly, unable to believe that he’s actually right there in front of her.
He glances away but holds out the hand that’s holding the bouquet for her to take. “I brought you roses.”
Hermione awkwardly places the bottle and the glass on her nightstand and carefully takes the bouquet from him. “Thank you.”
Silence drapes over them like a wet blanket, but she never can keep her mouth shut for long.
“Listen,” she begins, knowing that her courage has been gifted to her by the bottle of whiskey she’s been drinking, “I’m sorry about last week. I just couldn’t handle the thought of you with her and…and I’m sorry. I know that you’re probably sick of me, but I’m really glad that you came tonight.”
Draco stands up suddenly, approaching her until they’re face-to-face. He tucks a curl behind her ear, and Hermione blushes in response. “I’m not sick of you.”
Hermione can smell the alcohol on his breath. He’s been drinking as well. When she dialled his number, she thought that he was sleeping soundly. Apparently not. She wonders if he’s having a hard time sleeping like she has been ever since they broke up.
“I really…” She bites her lower lip, preparing herself for what she’s about to admit. “I’ve really missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he returns her words back to her and she’s more than happy to catch them with her heart. “I’m sorry about that picture. I was in university when that was taken. I don’t even talk to her that much anymore—”
Hermione chuckles. “You talk with her every day, but that’s alright. I’m just really feeling—”
“Then I won’t,” he interjects, taking a hold of her face with his hands. “I’ll never talk to her again if that’s what you ask of me.”
She gazes deeply into his eyes. For the first time, she notices that they’re completely bloodshot and swollen. Is he drunk?
“I love you,” she blurts out, watching as his eyes dilate at her words.
“I love you, too.” With that, he pulls her face closer to his and gives her a kiss. On his lips, Hermione can taste the expensive wine he probably stole from his father. He tastes bitter and warm like a lazy day at the vineyard, her nostrils flaring as she catches a whiff of the ashes the cigar he’s always loved left on his lips. She releases a moan when her tongue finally meets his, their alcohol-addled mouths mingling with each other.
His lips move to the sweet spot on her neck that he discovered when they first fucked in a library of all places, and her skin prickles with lust, remembering just how hot he can make her feel. She forgets all about the bouquet she’s holding and chooses to grip his shoulders instead as he runs his tongue over the skin on her neck, shivering in anticipation.
“I missed you,” Draco breathes, nipping at her skin and making sure to leave his mark on her throat. Hermione moans in response, her attention nowhere near what he’s saying.
Draco’s hand move to the knot that keeps her bathrobe intact, carelessly untying it and slipping his hand inside, his palm landing on her breast. Hermione uses her own hand to grip his blond hair and put his lips back on hers. She sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, swiping at it with her tongue, while Draco pinches and pulls at her nipple.
His touch warms her womb with arousal and his breath sends shivers down her spine, making her feel cool and hot at the same time. He gently pushes the bathrobe off her body, leaving her bare and almost-vulnerable. His hands travel to her legs, and she automatically wraps them around his hips, knowing that it’s what he’s silently asking her to do.
She feels the prodding of his clothed erection right against her core, whimpering as she desperately shoves her hips against his.
Draco growls against her lips, pinching her arse for her sort-of defiance. He turns them around, letting her drop into the soft fabric of her bed and wrenching their lips apart. He licks his lips as he studies her form and it’s the most erotic thing she’s ever experienced. His gaze travel from her face down to her neck (his favourite part of hers), down to her breasts, and down to her stomach until his eyes finally settle on staring at her unshaved cunt.
She hasn’t shaved in over a week now, ever since she left him, having felt no need for it anymore. Draco doesn’t mind it, anyway.
“I missed you so much,” Draco repeats, his eyes almost looking miserable as he continues to leer at her. His intense silver gaze is now making her squirm in uneasiness, her skin craving his hands and lips. She needs him back close to her.
“Draco, I—” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he unexpectedly cups her pussy, his fingers seeking her clit immediately. “Oh, God!”
He rapidly rubs her clit without halt. Hermione feels as though she’s on fire, the heat in her womb spreading all over her body, causing her skin to flush pink. Sweat forms on her scalp when Draco shoves two fingers inside her wet core, sliding them in and out.
Hermione puts an arm over her eyes, unable to fully process what’s happening, her hips rising and falling to meet his hand. Her head aches even more as she continues to let out loud sounds that her drunken mind cannot take.
Her vision flashes the brightest shade of white when she feels Draco’s fingers leaving her and tongue lapping at her cunt.
“Fuck!” she shouts, her head pounding the same beat as her heart. She feels the vibrations of Draco’s groan on her clit as she yells more incoherent words. His wine-filled mind must be hurting as well, and if she’s not being pleasured like a whore currently, she would’ve felt bad, but as his tongue parts her pussy lips and her walls stretches a tad when his wet muscle enters her, Hermione finds herself not giving a fuck.
She throws the arm over her eyes away, gripping her white sheets in frustration when Draco curls his tongue inside of her. She forces her eyes closed as his tongue slips in and out of her like a miniature cock.
“Oh, shit,” she mewls, seeing a flashing optical illusion with her shut eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She finds herself dangerously nearing the edge, her insides clenching around each other and the fire in her body worsening as Draco proceeds to pleasure her.
“Draco! I’m—” As soon as the second word left her mouth, Draco’s mouth abandons her as well, and the flames licking at her skin suddenly turned into nothing but ice-cold shards as if they’ve been put out by a fireman’s hose. The orgasm that she can almost taste before shrinks away into a disappointing shudder.
She opens her eyes; the first thing she sees is Draco’s infuriating smirk. “What the fuck?”
She fights the urge to kick and scream like a child when Draco does nothing but smugly peer at her through hooded lids. He looks so handsome yet punch-able at the same time. Bloody git.
“Draco,” she whines, squirming under his gaze, “come here. I need you.”
He lets out a throaty chuckle, making her cunt gush. “Beg for it.”
Hermione puts her hands in front of her eyes, groaning in annoyance. She feels so incomplete without him lapping up her cunt like before. When she failed to meet her orgasm, a gaping hole struck her lust-filled soul and now, she’s empty.
Draco begins to take his clothes off, and Hermione cannot help but watch him. He pulls the sweater over his head, tossing it onto the floor. He laughs at her when he notices that she’s been staring, pulling down the sweatpants that covered his legs, his boxers gone with it.
“Please,” she whispers, licking her lips as she admires his pale yet toned physique, the veins on his forearms enticing a familiar reaction from her pussy. “Draco, just fuck me. Please, do what you want. I don’t care. Throw me against the wall and fuck me raw until we’re both blacked out, baby. Fuck me.”
The smirk disappears from his face slowly, but he does not take any more time in holding her legs up and slamming his cock deep inside of her, the sudden intrusion hitting her cervix in a fucked up combination of pain and pleasure.
Her cunt clenches around his dick instantly, relief and orgasmic joy washing over her. Draco carries on as if nothing happened, still pounding harshly against her pussy.
Soon enough, Draco falls to the wooden floor, dragging Hermione on top of him and never daring to take his cock out of her. Hermione rides him smoothly, jumping on his dick as her inner thighs burn in fatigue. She grabs her breasts, squeezing and palming them, making her nipples harden as she toys with them.
“Come on, Hermione,” Draco grunts, his fingers clawing at her arse as his hips snap back at hers. “Ugh, Hermione, c’mon.”
Hermione lets out a long groan when her clit accidentally gets stimulated by his pubic bone. “Oh, God!”
She claws at Draco’s chest, tightening her pussy every time his cock slides back inside her before Draco growls and flips their position over. Hermione locks her ankles on top of his arse, using it to push him back down to her every time he rises.
Draco kisses her in a hard and bruising manner, tugging at her tongue with his teeth and puncturing a wound on her lips. When he pulls away, he also slows down his rhythm. He gives her an evil smile, and Hermione’s heart pulses in her throat as nervousness creeps in on her body. She knows what he is about to do and her pussy buzzes in excitement just thinking about it.
One of his large hands wraps itself around her throat and she shivers at the feel of his rough callouses on a dangerous place. He uses his forefinger and thumb to press on the pulse points on her neck. Hermione throws her head back in response, letting out an embarrassing whimper as they near dangerous territory. Draco puts slight pressure on her throat using his palm, literally stealing her breath away.
“Tighter,” she manages to squeak out. Draco does what he is told, making his grip on her neck firmer. Hermione’s vision blurs a tad, her chest constricting and her heart beating faster than before. She has never felt more alive whenever he does this to her. She is suddenly aware of everything. Her legs kick and struggle instinctively, her own hands wanting to strangle the smug expression off Draco’s face.
She shudders as the fire Draco lit spreads inside her once more, fighting against the high Draco’s grip on her neck caused. She screams when the fire becomes unbearable in her cunt, causing her pussy to let out juices and milk Draco’s cock tightly, triggering his orgasm as well.
He lets go when his seed spills inside of her, his eyes momentarily lost somewhere else. He is always silent when he comes, but his mouth strangely open. Hermione’s heart soars at the sight of him. Draco is so beautiful, more beautiful than she can ever hope to be. His skin is flawless, his hair always tidy, and his body is perfect.
Tears form in her eyes, and she weeps as she tells him, “I love you.”
Draco opens his eyes, a smile slowly curling on his lips. “I love you, too.”
He lies on her chest for a long time after that. They speak of nothing at all, choosing instead to listen to the calming sound of the pouring rain outside her windows.
When Draco regains his strength, he carries her back to her bed. Her eyes feel droopy, begging for rest, as he stands up again, taking hold of the bottle of whiskey on her nightstand.
“Let’s pour a drink, babe,” he husks, a smirk spreading across his face.
Suddenly, she doesn’t feel tired anymore.
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