Dramione Fic Recs

Their voices collide, and it has her eyes slashing to a pair of steel gray ones.

“If you would excuse us,” he intrudes, lightly grasping Hermione’s arm and hauling her up from the barstool.

Blake wants to argue, Hermione can tell, but the look on the man standing beside her sways him differently. “Yeah, alright, mate–sorry.”

She rolls her eyes, forcing a groan back and she’s pulled through the crowd.

Despite the urge to force him off of her, Hermione follows him through the throng of people. Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s because of the alcohol.

Maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good tonight.

She shakes the thought from her head. Definitely the alcohol.

“I’m able to walk by myself,” Hermione grunts as Draco pulls her out of the pub and onto the street.

He reaches out to catch her just as quickly as he released her. “Clearly.”

Hermione huffs and rights herself, flipping her curled hair over her shoulder with frustration. “Can I help you? What do you want?” Her brows crease, “why did you pull me out like that?”

“Merlin,” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, “I’ve almost forgotten just how bloody annoying you are.”

Her lips pull up in the corners. “Perfect. I’ll see you… never?”

Before she’s able to take two steps back towards the entrance of the pub, he reaches out for her elbow.

“Wait.”

And again, Hermione blames it on the alcohol for doing just as he asked.

She raises a brow at his silence, but his eyes aren’t on her face. They’re everywhere. The angles of her shoulders, her prominent collar bones, the soft curve of her hips. Even in the dm lighting of the street lamps, Hermione can tell his pupils are dilated.

“Malfoy.”

Like a knot reaching its breaking point, he snaps his gaze back to her eyes.

Just as alluring to look at as the rest of her body.

“Hmm?” He questions, dazed to see her here. In front of him.

Like a piece of candy dangling in front of him that he’s desperate to bite into.

“I asked you a question,” she mewls, stepping back towards him, “what do you want from me?”

The tone of her voice suggests something more than just curiosity. His eyebrow quirks.

Confidence shifts in his gaze, and in his stature.

He stands tall, his muscles tightening at the mere distance between them. It was now or never.

Maybe it was the whiskey on his own tongue. His eyes are like smoke to Hermione’s fire. Dark, dangerous. Smothering.

She wants nothing more than to breathe him in.

“Come back to my place.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking if she wanted to, he could already tell she did. He was simply waiting for permission.

“Ginny’s inside,” Hermione replies, looking over her shoulder towards the pub's entrance. Hooking a finger under her chin, he guides her eyes back to him.

“So is Blaise.”

Hermione hates that she knows what that means.

As much as Ginny loves Hermione, she’d never even notice her gone with Zabini there to ogle at. The two of them had a budding situationship on and off for years.

Steadying her feet, Hermione nods once at Malfoy. “Okay.”

He thought his mind was betraying him. There was no way in Hell that she, Hermione Granger, was agreeing to his proposal.

Even when she took his hand and started to lead the both of them away from the pub. Even when she slunk her body closer to his.

It wasn’t until they reached one of London's various secluded alleyways that he realized this was real.

“You’re serious?”

Hermione quirks a brow at the blond, a sly smirk playing on her lips. “Only if you are.”

“You’re drunk.” He states matter-of-factly.

“Tipsy,” she corrects and hums in enjoyment as he squeezes his eyes closed momentarily. “I’m fully aware of my decisions, Malfoy.”

When he opens his eyes again, he notices the smirk. She’s playing him, he thinks.

Two could play that game.

And he would win.

Hermione’s body feels like it’s being pulled in every which way as Draco takes her arm in his hand and apparates them away.

There’s no pain when she lands on her feet, she realizes. It’s a simple–well, to her–spell, but it’s still one of the first times she hasn’t felt pain or nausea while apparating. Besides when she’s the one doing the spell, of course.

The aroma of spiced mahogany invades every one of her senses as she opens her eyes. She’s here.

In the Malfoy manor.

She didn’t think she’d be granted access to his home, but here she was.

Unscathed. Welcomed.

Pulled in the direction of a winding staircase.

Her feet fail her as she follows behind his tall silhouette. She’s stumbling over each step, and Draco can’t help the damned smirk that pulls on his lips when he glances over his shoulder at her.

“Where are we going?”

He watches as her eyes quickly scan every moving picture that's hung on his walls, every family heirloom they pass.

“My room.”

He expects a look of uncertainty, even a slight glimpse of anxiety, but as Hermione locks eyes with him after a moment, she nods briskly.

He opens the large double doors for her as they reach the end of the hall. Extending his arm, he ushers her in and waits back a moment as she carries herself through the threshold.

The room is exactly as she had pictured it being.

Dark greens. Stained wood. Books piled on bedside tables and stacked in the corner of a room.

Even the forgotten teacup on his writer’s desk had been envisioned.

She didn’t, however, expect the large easel in front of his stained glass windows.

“You paint?”

The excitement in her tone has him smiling. Really smiling.

“Just as a hobby.”

Hermione notices his uncomfortableness. He’s nervous–or embarrassed?

Leaving him by the door, she walks over towards the easel. He seemed to have been in the middle of a painting. Thick brushstrokes are dried against the cream background. Amber colored drippings of something resembling syrup is painted to perfection.

“Honey.” He answers, not needing to hear the questions in her head. “It’s… supposed to be honey.”

She looks behind her, nodding in appreciation. “It’s amazing.”

Draco scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat.

“Seriously, Malfoy, it’s so realistic. How long have you been painting?”

The answer is on the tip of his tongue. Ever since I met you. He doesn’t voice that, though. There was no way in Hell he’d admit that almost every single painting he’d ever done had the same honeyed hue surrounding it.

“M’not sure.” He answers instead, shrugging nonchalantly.

She trails her fingertips over the deep green hue that’s melting itself in the background. “I like this too.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, not dropping it as she glances over her shoulder once more.

“Yes.” She nods, and answers softly. “It’s very… you.”

Draco cocks his head slightly, “oh, so you like me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Hermione quips, grinning like the devil as his eyes flash at her.

Draco stalks towards her, keeping his eyes pinned to hers. “You’re here, aren’t you? In the Malfoy manor. With me.”

Hermione isn’t easy to back down. She holds his gaze and nods once, taking a sultry step towards him. “I am.”

After that, it was like a race. Who could get undressed quicker. Who was more desperate—it was Draco, of course. It was tangled limbs and messy kisses as they fell onto his bed, Hermione’s skin melting against the silk sheets.

She lay there, in nothing but her undergarments, staring up at him in desire. This was never on her agenda, but Hermione loved the way he made her feel. She always had, if she’d only just admit it.

Taking his length into his hand, Draco gives his cock one firm pump to watch the bead of precum roll down his shaft, then uses it to lather around his cock. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He asks, a tilt to his head. “How long I’ve waited to have the renowned Golden Girl begging for me to ruin her?”

He taps the head of his cock against her clothed, aching clit with lips parted as he admires the lingerie for the first time tonight.

To his utter satisfaction, they’re crotchless. Whether or not she bought them this way, or charmed them to stay perfectly intact—a perfect heart shape is cut from the middle of the lingerie, showcasing just how desperate she really is.

It’s a shame he’s far too impatient to tease the both of them.

Giving himself one second longer to memorize the lace material, he quickly yanks the lingerie down her legs and tosses it to the side of the room.

“Malfoy, fuck—please.” Hermione croons, the anticipation building to an all time high.

He smirks at her, and settles between her thighs, spreading her legs further apart. Hermione watches with hungry eyes as he angles his mouth above her cunt. Her heart skips a beat with pleasure as he spits onto her pussy.

He takes his time, using his thumb to spread the saliva around her swollen clit and pulsing cunt. His dick throbs with every soft moan she gives him. He’s painfully hard now; the tip a deep pink and begging to feel the warmth of the girl laying under him.

“You’re incredible.” Draco muses, sinking himself to the hilt inside of her. He lets out an airy laugh; one full of relief and disbelief.

She fists the sheets tightly, her entire body knotting up at the intrusion.

“You’ve gotta relax for me, Granger.” Draco hisses, attempting to hold himself steady as she familiarizes herself around him. “Yeah—like that, good girl.” He coos as she releases the breath she’s holding.

He juts back slowly, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of her, before thrusting a slow, lingering stroke back in.

His thumb remains pressed against her clit, circling slowly. Teasingly.

Both of their breaths escape in gasps; Draco from how tightly she clenches around him, and Hermione at the sensation of his cock stretching her out.

It’s a welcomed pain. One that has Hermione writhing underneath Draco’s bare torso, her nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin and her lips parted in a silent whimper.

She bites her bottom lip to suppress the moans that threaten to rip from her mouth, each languid thrust from Draco sending pleasuring shock waves through her body.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” Draco hums, taking hold of her mid-thigh tightly and spreading her fruther apart for him. He sits back on his knees, pushing back into her roughly. With her cunt exposed, Draco’s eyes can’t help but fall to where their bodies meet, watching as his cock slides into her pulsing cunt.

The soft whine of his name catches his attention, and he glances up through the hair falling over his eyes to find Hermione with her eyes pinched and one hand gripping the comforter underneath them. The bra that once cupped her breasts are now spilling, her nipples just barely visible from the constant motions of him.

“Look at you,” he grits, another rough thrust of his hips, “a withering fuckin’ mess because of me.” Draco chuckled lowly, teasingly, reaching for the hem of her lace bra to yank it down, her breasts now spilling out completely.

Hermione’s eyes snap to his and her mouth opens, assumingly to respond with some witty comment, but Draco ruts himself back into her, bottoming out to the hilt and her words are cut off with a loud moan.

Hermione cries out, reaching out to grab his forearm where he held her thigh down. Draco tilts his head, a taunting smirk pulling at his lips.

“Cant speak?” He questions, “didn’t think I would’ve ever seen the day.”

“Fuck yo—,”

Before she can finish her statement, Draco repositions them so her leg is hoisted over his shoulder. He snaps his hips forward and causes both of them to lose their breath.

She sobbed out, burying her head into the pillow and curling her toes at the intensity of him. She'd had sex before, sure. But this... this was different. Like a euphoric bliss that she only ever dreamt of. She couldn't believe how insanely good he felt and he was only driving her harder, faster. Each moment, pleasurable than the last.

Watching Hermione unravel under him is a sight Draco will never forget. His stomach tightens as she calls his name, brokenly and pleading.

He drops the grip of her thigh, opting to rest his palms at each side of her head and lean over her. With each roll of his hips, his pelvic massages her aching clit. “Look at me.” He demands, sinking deeper into her.

Hermione swears she can feel him in her stomach.

Finding the will, Hermione’s eyes open and she looks up at him. Even with blown pupils and a glaze over her irises, the color fills Draco with warmth.

Honeyed. Sweet. Blissed.

All for him.

“There’s my girl.” He coos, a smirk rupturing across his face.

The softness of his voice in juxtaposition to his thrusts has Hermione’s mind and body reeling.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,”, he praises and Hermione nods in response, not trusting her voice to work at the moment. “You’re taking me so well, baby.”

She mumbles something incoherent as his tip hits against her g-spot. Draco notices almost instantly the way her muscles simultaneously tighten and relax. Keeping the position, he shoves into her again, eliciting another slew of curse words whispered from her perfect lips.

The feeling of him inside her and the angry, desperate rhythm he decided on, made Hermione’s body grow hot and her breaths to become uneven.

His own lungs were fighting for proper breaths. Each thrust has his breaths shallow and ragged.

“You feel so fucking good.” She manages to choke out, although broken and shaky.

He smirks again, dazed and blissed out as he watches their bodies glide together. Taking both of her hands in one of his, he pins them above her head. The gasp she lets out is swallowed by his hungry lips.

It’s barely a kiss; both of them moaning with every other breath, but they didn’t pull away. Her jaw went slack as he fucked up into her, and Draco took the opportunity to trace his tongue over her bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. He pulls on her lip and bites down onto it, soothing the burn with his tongue again before letting her fall back into the mattress.

Her hair is a mess of color against his white sheets; unruly and soft curls splayed out.

The pressure in her stomach grows, wild and intense, as the tip of his cock rams into her. She could feel his cock pulsing inside of her, equally begging for the release the other gave them.

“Fuck—Draco,” Hermiome curses, “I’m gonna cum.”

A proud grunt of approval falls from his lips, and Draco wraps his arms under her back, before flipping them around.

Hermione almost gets whiplash from how quickly he moved them, but his fingers digging into her hips take attention. She doesn’t have a chance to catch her breath before he’s bucking his hips up, fucking into her cunt.

His head falls backwards, allowing Hermione the opportunity to examine him fully. The sheen of sweat that coats his chest, the ripples of muscles that flex with each tiny movement, the tattoos that adorne his body. Every inch of him is perfect.

Even the scar near his pelvic bones, reaching mid-torso and wrapping around to his back. The sight makes her mouth water and the tension in her stomach tighten.

“You wanna cum?” He questions, his eyes glued to her already as she focuses back on his face. A moment of whiny grunts has her legs shaking as he keeps the unyielding pace fucking up into her. “Cum on my cock, baby. Make a mess all over me.”

His words are encouraging enough. She lifts her hips and starts to glide up and down his pulsating cock, desperate mewls following from her lips. “Yes, Merlin, yes.” She moans, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

Draco dances his hands up Hermione’s body, cupping each breast with his hands. She felt so full, this angle making him even deeper than before.

“Keep fuckin’ me, Granger.” He instructs, “just like this—perfect.” Leaving one hand on her breast, he trails the other to the small of her back, guiding her hips to a steady rhythm. “Merlin, fuck.” He grunts out, “make me cum, honey. Let me cum inside you—shit.” He said, half begging of her, wet lips parted as her soaking cunt clenches around her.

“I’m gonna cum,” Hermione admits, her eyes finding his, for solace. “Oh my god.”

“I’ve got you.” He coos, his own climax edging on the breaking point.

Hermione all but falls on top of him, her hips rolling against his own as her mouth finds his. Their lips are more pliable this time, moving in tandem as their highs reach their peak.

The only sound around them is skin against skin, and their puffs of breath against one another, both refusing to part.

“Fuck, cum on my cock, Granger—shit.” He hisses, his muscles tightening in a grip around her.

A loud whine emanates from his throat, mixed with a raspy groan of curse words. She could feel him release inside of her, thick ropes of cum pushing up inside of her. His dick desperately throbbed and twitched with each unearthly feeling of pleasure. Still, his hips worked up inside of her, sloppy and off beat as his fingers dug into her skin.

“Goddamn, Hermione.” He moans as his body finally relaxes.

Her name dripping from his tongue is enough to pull her over the edge.

“Merlin, fuck, fuck, yes!” She cries, stomach burning as the waves of her orgasm crashes over her.

His arms wrap around her torso as she melts onto his body. She can hear mumbles of words that he’s whispering in her ear, but she can’t make them out. Her mind is foggy and her vision blurred.

Hermione isn’t sure how long she laid like that; on top of him and blissed out of her mind. It was long enough for her body to cool, the breeze from Draco’s open window a welcomed feeling. As she finally came to her senses, she could feel his fingertips rubbing soft circles on the small of her back.

“There you are,” he whispers, and she manages to lift her head to meet his gaze. His lips are pulled up into a lazy grin, not the usual smirk he wears around everyone else. “Almost had me worried.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” She retorts.

He chuckles, and runs his fingers through the ends of her hair. “Yep. Witty as always. You’re definitely back.”

Draco lets her gather her bearings a bit longer before pulling out of her, apologizing softly as she winces. He surprises her when he tells her he’d be back, opting to clean her with a damp rag rather than an easy scourgify.

“I’ll be gentle.” He promises as he kneels at the foot of the bed, opening her legs for her, considering she still hadn’t gained the ability to move them herself yet.

She was ready for the coolness of the rag.

She wasn’t ready for the warmth of his tongue as he lapped her up.

Her body tenses, a pleasure teetering on the line of pain, too much for her to handle. After a few flicks of his tongue, she lifts her hands enough to shove his face away.

He looks up at her with the signature smirk, “had to have a taste of us. Fuckin’ delicious.”

The devious glint in his eye has Hermione’s heart pounding.

Draco does as he says, though. He cleans her with gentle pressure, and gives her one of his t-shirts to cover up with. He was a lot more… thoughtful, then she had expected him to be. After cleansing himself and making sure the linens were cleaned up, he buried himself and Hermione underneath the thick duvet.

She closes her eyes in content as he locks an arm around her waist, pulling her flesh against his bare torso.