Work Text:
Sexy Auror Draco.
Exquisite art by LunaP999.
Draco gripped her wrist and turned her around, slamming her into the wall in the tiny Healers’ mess. “Are you ignoring me, Granger?”
She bit back a cry of pain. “What is your problem, Malfoy?”
Draco Apparated to St. Mungo’s after she missed their lunch date, finding her sitting alone drinking coffee in the cafeteria. He immediately grabbed her, telling her to lead them to the on-call room.
He caged her in with his arms on each side of her head. He’d grown stronger since entering the Auror programme. “You haven’t responded to my texts all morning.”
“I’ve been busy. I do have rounds, you know. And I don’t appreciate being manhandled just because you’re a bit miffed that I haven’t answered your text from two hours ago. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She dipped under his arm before he crowded into her with his body, his heat penetrating her skin. “What—”
“You missed our lunch date,” he said with gritted teeth, his grey stare accusatory. “I’ve barely seen you all week with our schedules and now you forget our date.”
Her brown eyes searched his grey ones, looking for deception or guilt. Finding none, she sighed, pushing against the hard planes of his chest. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ll see you at home.”
Draco stepped closer still, parting her legs with his thigh and lifting her to her tiptoes.
“Stop it.” Her breath caught in her throat. She gripped his bicep and turned away from him.
His nose bumped hers, as he flexed his thigh muscle. She squeezed his arm.
“Why didn’t you come to lunch?”, he whispered against her cheek. Resting his forehead on hers, he watched her lashes flutter.
“Maybe I did.” Her fingers laced through the leather of his wand holster.
“What?”
“Maybe I took a long lunch and went to the DMLE to surprise you. Imagine my shock at what I saw?”
Draco stepped back, his brows twisted in confusion.
Hermione stiffened, smoothing down her green Healer robes. “Are we done here?”
“No. Colloportus,” he clipped. The door’s lock clicked.
“What—This isn’t funny. I have to go back to the floor for my shift. We’ll talk about this later.”
“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” He bundled up her robes around her waist, hands gripping the fabric tightly.
“Malfoy—”
He slowly rubbed her bundle of nerves over her plain black knickers, finding it with practised ease. She stifled back a moan but didn’t fight him, her knees dropping open almost on instinct. The heat of her centre seeped through his trousers, hardening him instantly. He slid her knickers to the side, dipping one finger in, making a soft, wet sound.
“I think—" he grunted. He traced ever-widening circles with his pointer finger, pressing against her pulsing, inner walls, while his palm warmly cupped her sex, providing the necessary friction. He breathed hotly against her ear. “I think that you saw me talking with a certain Witch, and you left before I could explain anything.”
Earlier in the day, Draco had heard a small commotion a few yards away from his cubicle and a quick movement of frizzy hair over the grey dividers. Saying a hasty goodbye to Astoria, he walked around to the noise, there was an assistant muttering a Tergeo spell over the parquet floor of the Bull’s Pen, syphoning away the spilled coffee.
Hermione’s head jerked, facing him. “What is there to explain? You know exactly how I feel about her. Ah.” He added a second finger, stretching her deliciously.
Draco murmured a Vanishing charm and her knickers disappeared.
“Maybe if you’d look at your phone—”
The low sound of him undoing the metal teeth of his zipper.
“You’d know—”
A whisper of the Featherlight charm.
“I texted you about her visiting.”
A hand on her throat, turning her face towards him.
“She—”
Another hand hoisted open her thigh and his hips pinned her to the wall, lifting her up. His hard cock prodded her entrance, coating the head in her wetness. He cursed before giving a shallow thrust.
She was so tight.
Draco buried himself in the crook of her neck, delirious with the soft scent of her skin and how her walls protested against his intrusion. “Fuck—why—how—fucking tight—didn’t I fuck this out of you? Fucking obstinate Witch. How are you still this—
So. Thrust
Fucking. Thrust.
Tight?” Thrust.
In response, she squeezed around him painfully, making his slide in as tight as possible.
One hand rubbed over her mound, teasing and relaxing her. In contrast to the gentleness of his fingers, he snapped his hips violently, as if angry at her for not making enough room.
“Are you trying to make things difficult?”, he hissed.
Hermione glared at him, not answering.
“Do you want me to come already with all that clenching?”, he chuckled before squeezing her cheeks and dragging open her bottom lip with his thumb. He licked into her mouth. A crude, wet kiss.
Her insides took him in greedily, fluttering and sucking him in, He bit her shoulder, a low grunt escaping his muffled lips, as he thrusted in, forcing through her walls.
“Merlin, fuck,” he growled against her skin, licking the salt off. Pulling out almost completely, Draco leaned back slightly to change his angle, lifting her from underneath her thighs. Shallow pulses against the wall of his favourite place, dragging out of her painfully slowly, while her lips tried to suck him back in.
“Astoria—“
“Don’t say her fucking name while you’re inside me.” Hermione pulled at his blond hairs at the nape. In response, he ripped the buttons off her shirt, flipping down the cups of her bra and palming her breasts.
The sharp pain of her tug caused him to press deeply into her, finding more resistance at her spasming walls. “Wanted to congratulate us on our—S’tight—Let me fucking in, fuck—Our engagement.”
The pinch and stretch of him made Hermione’s chin quiver before she regained her faculties slightly and spat on him. “Oh, and she just needed to tell you that in-person? Where’s my congratulations card? Last I checked, there were two people—ah—involved in an engagement.”
Draco smiled obscenely at her, a twinkle in his eye and his tongue darting out to taste her spit on the corner of his mouth. “My good girl is jealous,” he cooed.
“Stop it. I’m not in the mood. My response is perfectly rational, considering your past with—”
“I.”
Thrust.
“Don’t.”
Thrust.
“Want.”
Thrust.
“Her.”
He claimed her lips in a bruising kiss, tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting the coffee from earlier. She broke off the kiss, gasping and biting harshly onto his bottom lip.
Draco pulled back a little, his hips still pinning her to the ugly beige walls of the Healers’ mess. The hand on her throat moved and thumbed his lip, finding fresh, red blood. He smiled. More gently this time. The curve of his smile split his wound farther apart. Hermione had to resist the instinct to heal him.
Draco spread his blood along her lower lip, drawing it on like lipstick. “You look good with me on you, my little Mudblood.”
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to ever again.”
He froze for a second. On occasion, Hermione allowed him to use that term when they had rougher bouts of sex. He searched her eyes, finding fire and hurt. Buried beneath was fear.
Before he could think too long on that, she squeezed around him again, making him grunt and snap his hips roughly, forcing her to open more for him. Her hand lifted to slap him, but his Auror-trained reflexes were faster, pushing her wrist to the wall.
“You want to slap me, Granger? Go ahead.”
“You talk too much.” She gnashed her teeth.
“Or not enough. Which is it? You think I’m hiding anything from you? You can check your phone.” He let go of her arm, and lifted both of her legs in the crooks of his elbows, exposing her to the cool, sterile air of the hospital.
Draco walked them back to one of the thin cots in the room, laying her on the squeaky mattress. With one hand squeezing her hips to keep her in place and the other palming open a knee, he displayed her lewdly. He dropped his head, looking at where they connected.
His eyes roamed from the soft roundness of her stomach, her small breasts with pert, brown nipples, her pink lips pulsing around him desperately, to the white cream encircling the head of his cock.
“Mmm. What a tight little cunt stretching around me. I can feel your pretty pink lips gripping my cock.” He dragged through her slick, before licking his thumb. She clenched at the sight.
“We taste so good, you and me. You’re perfect. What we make.” Draco stuck the same thumb into her mouth. Her tongue curled around him, as if it were his cock. He had to stifle a moan.
When he removed his hand from her mouth, a string of saliva connected his thumb and her lower lip. Her tongue darted out to break the connection and swallow the moisture.
He grabbed her head impulsively, kissing her deeply and snarling in her ear. “You’re my filthy girl, aren’t you?”
Draco dipped his head again, this time dropping a cool, glossy strand of saliva mixed with blood from his broken skin onto her mound. He drew tight, firm circles around her bundle of nerves, dragging his fingers along her slit every so often. She squirmed around him, squeezing vindictively. He grunted, pausing his actions, trying not to come from her pulsating heat.
Then she slapped him, reddening his cheek. The sound of the skin clapping reverberated around the small room, bouncing off the walls. “Don’t talk to me like that. Just because I’m Muggleborn doesn’t mean you can—these things you can’t do with a perfect Pureblood wif—“
“Shut up, Granger. You’re so wet for me. Who are you kidding?” He made a point to thrust harder, crashing their pelvises together.
She clenched again in retaliation. He dropped his forehead on hers, flattening his lips into a thin line. Her breath was hot and wet and smelled slightly metallic from his blood. It only made him harder.
“Mm!” He slowed down his movements, instead stroking in and out of her languidly. With each pass, he made sure to press into her clit. “If you’d stayed an extra moment—fuck, stay still—or taken any time to look at your phone—that’s it, take it. Like that—you’d know what happened.”
Her cunt pulsed in heavy, gelatinous throbs. It was glorious. It was safe, warm, familiar. Like coming home. It made him want to bury himself inside her and never come out. It made him want to coat every inch of her with his cum.
“She wanted to apologize for her behaviour at the gala. She said she was drunk, and while it’s not an excuse, she was upset over the news of our engagement. It seemed a little—ahem—rushed, as she put it.” His words were low and hitched.
Hermione’s face soured, then shook her head. “I don’t care. She’s a cunt. And you must take me for a fool.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse.” A forceful push into her now.
“I don’t care. You ruined it,” she squeaked out, her breasts bouncing at the strength of his thrusts.
“Nothing happened. 50 other Aurors can attest to it.” Another press of his hips, swirling and clipping her clit with his pelvic bone.
Over and over.
Draco lifted her legs, pressing her thighs into her stomach, angling deep, deep, deep inside of her.
“Oh gods.” Her pants grew strained.
“This is mine. All of it. Your tits.” He squeezed a nipple through her clothes.
“Your cream. Your cunt.” He guided her legs over his, tilting her hips up. Moving a pillow underneath her.
“Each pulse. Each quiver,” he said as he sunk into her again. She pulsed at his words.
She gripped the thin sheets and let out a guttural moan. And she came, under and over him, her legs shaking, squeezing his waist, and ankles wrapped tightly around his back. He bit his lip, focusing on the pain to keep himself from coming, letting her milk his cock. He was nearly delirious with pleasure and want.
When her throbs slowed, he ripped open the rest of her robes, exposing her completely, and started fucking her roughly.
A piece of parchment fluttered out of an inner pocket. Her head tilted up and she reached for it under him. He paused his movement to grab at it, but made sure to grip her thighs open.
“What’s this?”, he managed to say.
She struggled around his cock, reaching for the paper.
It was a blurry, grey enchanted image that looked like it was taken under water. Small waves undulating around a bean-like object.
She huffed. “That’s why I came early today.”
“Granger—” he warned. He knew what it was, but he needed her to tell him.
“My Healer said I’m about 9 weeks along.”
His cock twitched inside her, as if it heard her.
The tightness in her stomach. Her anger. Her fear.
All of the previous frustration and confusion drained out of him. He covered her face in kisses, against her lips, along her throat, and across her shoulders, while rocking against her slowly.
He flipped their positions, the bed creaking in protest.
“I’m happy,” he whispered, staring into her eyes.
“Are you?”
“Of course I am. I love you, you infuriating Witch. You can’t leave me now. You’re tied to me.”
She tinkered lightly at his words, making him push deeper inside of her, his hands slamming her down onto his cock. Working her hips over him. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him.
Draco sighed, as he played with an errant curl. “I’m sorry that you saw me talking to Astoria when you came to tell me the news. It must have really dampened your mood.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew she was being unreasonable, but it didn’t matter.
Astoria and Draco had a history, splashed across the pages of the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. Journalists were quick to forgive Draco, trading it for popular headlines about redemption, good girls taming bad boys, and the perfect Sacred 28 match, language carefully coded.
Even after it seemed like it would be inevitable that the oft-injured Auror and lonely Healer would crash against one another, Hermione was adamant it couldn’t happen. There was only heartache in store for them. So why try? She avoided him, changing her work schedule to days when she knew he was off. She got Hannah to treat Draco. He wasn’t for her, and she wasn’t for him.
He was her childhood bully. He was an ex-Death Eater. Most importantly, he was taken. They would never work, notwithstanding the opinions of Harry, Ron, his friends, his parents, and the wider Wizarding world opining on their every move.
But he kept coming back, thwarting almost every attempt for her to create space between him.
“You’re betrothed and I’m —“ Hermione walked away from him, pushing him aside.
“With the Weasel?”
“No—yes! Doesn’t matter. I’m not a cheater. And I won’t be made a fool of. You can scratch your Witch itch elsewhere.”
He quirked a brow, bemused by her rhyme.
“I’m not a conquest, Malfoy. Plenty of other Muggles are willing to sleep with you.”
The corners of his mouth lifted.
“What?”
“I broke off my engagement.”
“When?”
“Two months ago. If only you’d read my owls.”
Draco sat up, and kissed her until she whimpered.
“I’m so happy.” Kiss.
“You made me a father.” Kiss.
“I can’t wait until we meet our little baby.” Kiss.
“It’ll have your hair and my eyes.” Kiss.
He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her close and dragging out each roll and slide of her hips against his pelvis bone. She quaked around him, dropping her head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of sex and cracked black pepper along his skin.
“I can’t wait to see you round and your breasts filled with milk.”
He pressed his palm into her lower stomach, guiding her movements and circling her clit. “Granger, I don’t fucking care about any other Witches. You’re the only one I see. No one else exists for me. The only one who makes me hard. The only one I want to feel around my cock. See you carry my heir. The only one I want to spend my life with. Do you understand?”
Draco led her hand to his drenched cock nestled between them. “This is yours.” She drew long, languid motions up and down his hard length with a finger, playing with the curls at the base. “Only yours. My cock only responds to you.”
As he talked, he stiffened, the skin of his cock pulled so taut that he thought it would split. She didn’t answer, her eyes glazing over as she slipped and slid above him. Her breath came out in ragged bursts, sweat beading on her neck.
“Do you understand?”, he asked more forcefully, shoving her down hard on his cock.
“Y–yes.”
“I don’t think you do.” He pushed her down on his hips again. “I think you need me to remind you.”
The door handle jangled.
Hermione’s eyes grew wide, freezing. Her walls constricted around him. “Draco–stop–I–”
“No, I’m not going to stop. Never.” He rocked her harder along his length, leaving white thumbprints on her hipbones.
“I’m serious—ah—Someone’s—.”
“No, I’m serious.” To show her how serious he was, he kicked off his trousers that pooled around his ankles and braced his feet on the bed, fucking up harshly into her. She steadied herself on her chest, and he covered her hand with his.
Her movements were jagged now, a staccato rhythm of their own accord, chasing the elusive friction that would make her break.
The door jiggled again. Draco cursed, sending a stronger Locking charm on the door.
“Draco—”
“It’s my break. At least cast a Muffliato. Ridiculous,” someone muttered on the other side before they heard footsteps clicking away.
His fingers twirled around his signet ring on her left hand. “Listen to me, you’re going to come around my cock again. And I’m going to cum inside you. You’re going to take all of it. Fill you up. You’re going to keep it nice and warm for me, aren’t you? Protect our baby like a good girl. Then you’re going to tell your supervisor that you’re feeling unwell. I’m going to Floo you home. And I’m going to lick you clean and fuck you raw until you can’t walk. Okay?”
She nodded frantically.
“Are you going to let me have you every day? Hm? Let me keep you filled up until my seed takes again? Again and again?”
She let out a whiny noise.
“Are you going to let me taste you? Your dripping, swollen cunt. Your milk. All of you. Let me fuck you while licking milk from your swollen tits.”
Hermione blushed.
“Well?” Draco froze his thrusts.
“Goddammit, Draco. Move.” She began to slide back and forth, pushing on her knees. The metal springs on the cheap mattress squeaked.
“Not until you tell me.” He gripped her hips so tightly that her flesh sprung up between his fingers, stalling her movements.
“Oh—fuck—alright. Fine.”
“And?” Thrust.
“I–I’ll let you have me every day. Keep me filled up.”
“And?” Thrust.
“You can have my milk.”
Draco moaned loudly, shutting his eyes before they snapped open again. Renewed fervour in them. Determined. Possessed.
He held her hips with both of his hands, commanding, “Come down here.”
She obeyed. She hated that.
With their faces brushing one another, he rolled his hips up and deep into her, like he was wading water. Clapping, wet sounds echoed through the room. She soon found her rhythm, bracing herself with her own swirl of the hips to match his upstroke.
“Look at me while you fucking take my cock. Fuck, shit. Take it. Fucking take it.” And it became nonsensical, muttering things like “Show everyone—dripping—mine—baby—fuck—love—I’m gonna—Count with me. 5, 4, 3—” He fucked up into her viciously.
She couldn’t wait, impatient and perhaps a tad vengeful, she shattered around him, tightening and releasing with the force of her orgasm. A strangled yelp escaped her throat.
“Such a good girl My perfect little slut. Making a mess on my cock. Do you hear that? So fucking wet. That’s it. Yeah. There–There you go, good girl,” he said as he fucked her through her orgasm, rubbing soothing circles on her back and prolonging the shimmering waves of pleasure that wracked throughout her body, from her curled toes to the shivers up and down her spine.
He sunk deep into her, pushing deeply as he could with a groan. His voice came from the back of his throat, husky and low, “We’re going to the Ministry. I’m going to marry you tomorrow. Make you my wife.” His cock throbbed and a flood of warmth released inside her. Her walls constricted painfully, draining him of his spend. He stayed inside of her until he softened, their combined fluids leaking onto his stomach.
On his last ounce of strength, he pushed himself up off the bed, moving her slightly to his thigh. Draco pulled her close, gently kissed along the curve of her belly. He turned his head to rest on her stomach. The other hand dipped between their bodies, finding their warm sticky fluids. He held her open, then drew runes across her inner thighs with it.
Algiz. Protection.
Ingwaz. Family.
A cool, bright light stretched across their lower bodies. The Magic tingled like someone cracked an egg over their skin.
Dragging his fingers through the creamy mess once more, he slipped two fingers into her mouth. Hermione relished the taste with lascivious glee. She looked down at him, her brown eyes gleaming and drifting down to his abused lower lip.
Draco studied her face, dropping open his mouth. Watching him intently, Hermione parted her lips, letting their combined fluids drip into his mouth. He swallowed gratefully, then pressed her head down to him, swirling his tongue into her mouth, cleaning up every drop.
With his final possessive act, he pushed her back down on the creaky bed and gathered their cum onto his fingers, slowly fucking the rest back into her. He was patient. Tapping. Twisting. Pushing and pulling against her spasming walls and that special spongy spot until she cried out his name and came again, dripping down his wrist.
“Alohomora!”
The lock clicked open.
—FIN—