“Be careful with that.”
“I’m always careful.”
Hermione watches him as he curiously looks at the handgun in his hand. Her father had given it to her before the war, just in case her wand wasn’t enough.
She imagines shooting Voldemort in his bald head and giggles at the thought.
He turns his head to look at her. “What’s so funny?”
She shakes her head, trying to calm her fit of giggles. “Nothing. Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” she asks, more seriously now.
Draco huffs out a laugh. “Am I comfortable with this? I’m not the one about to get fucked with a gun held to my head.”
He was right. She should be the one that was scared.
But she wasn’t.
She never feels scared with him. In fact, she always feels safe with him.
He clears his throat. “Are you— are you ready?”
Hermione approaches him and gently takes the gun out of his hands, setting it behind him on the table.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean — our safe word doesn’t only apply to me, Draco. You can use it too. I won’t be disappointed if you use it, I promi—”
“I’m not using the fucking safe word. I want to do this. You have no idea how much I want to do this.” His once nervous voice becomes dark and domineering.
Just hearing his change of tone sends a cold chill down her spine.
She crosses her arms across her chest. “Then what are you waiting for?” she whispers, and his molten grey eyes almost turn black.
“Go,” he motions his head towards their bedroom, “take off your clothes and wait patiently for me on the bed.”
She tries to hide her enthusiasm as she practically runs towards their bedroom and starts stripping.
Draco had made her swear to never tell another living soul, but he was not the dominant partner in the bedroom.
She was.
And she loved the role far too much than she would rather admit.
But tonight, she needs this. This was for her. And her wizard was far too happy to oblige in playing the dominant role for a change. Far too joyous to please his lady.
When she finishes stripping, she sits on the bed and watches the setting sun disappear behind their neighbor's houses across the street.
Their room was dark now — and eerily quiet.
What is he doing?
Her question is answered as he slinks into the room and shuts the door behind him, murmuring a locking charm.
The locking charm seems pointless considering they’re the only people who live in their flat, but Harry was known to Floo in unexpectedly.
She would leave the country if Harry walked in on Draco fucking her with a gun held to her head.
“What are you thinking about?” he questions cautiously. She meets his eyes and they have the same nervous gleam they did when they were in the kitchen.
Hermione starts to wonder why, but then she realizes. He thinks she’s having second thoughts.
“I’m thinking about how much I want you to take your clothes off.” Was it a lie? Not completely, but it definitely wasn’t what she was thinking about when he asked her the question.
The dark edge was back in his eyes now, and there was a mischievous glint to them that excited her.
Pale moonlight shines through the curtains and envelopes his body.
Her eyesight suddenly goes black, to which she lets out a small shriek, but is silenced by him standing right in front of her, rubbing soothing circles on her thighs and shushing her.
“Shh,” he whispers gently, “let me take care of you, baby. You know I’ll take such good care of you.”
It was normally her who said such things to him. Normally her soothing him, telling him she was going to take care of him.
The change of roles was… intriguing, at first. She wasn’t sure whether she would like her control being taken away from her.
But she did. Oh, she did. And her once good boy was doing such a great job playing a role he never had before.
“What did—” she swallows, “what did you do?”
Draco pushes on her lower stomach until she is flat on her back against the bed, her vision still completely black even though her eyes are wide open.
“I did a charm that would alter your vision, sweetheart. I planned on leaving you breathless and thoughtless when I was done with you, but now you won’t be able to see either.”
She knows he senses the change in her demeanor, senses the impending panic approaching from her sight being taken away.
“Bludger?” he whispers their safe word, and he’s close enough that she feels his breath drift across her cheeks.
She has never been in such a submissive position before and it frightens her.
But this is her idea. And this is Draco. This is Draco and he would never try anything that she was uncomfortable with.
She shakes her head. “No. No bludger. I want this. I want you.”
Hermione feels his sigh of relief that he hasn’t pushed her too far.
“Good girl.”
She almost whines at his words.
He has never said that to her before, but god, she wants him to say it again and again and again.
She wants him to say it with his hand around her throat. She wants him to say it with his fingers ramming into her. She wants him to say it repeatedly as she comes on his tongue. She wants him to say it as he takes her and takes her and takes her again.
She closes her eyes before he can see the tears start to form in them. She wants so badly. She wants and wants and wants for him to dominate her. It’s something that she has never wanted before, and yet now, she wants it more than anything.
Hermione feels him drop to his knees and nudge her legs apart. She knows she’s already soaking, and can tell he knows too by the breath he sucks in at the sight of her.
He chuckles darkly. “Well, would you look at that. Already fucking drenched for me and I’ve barely even touched you.”
She gasps when she feels his lips press a kiss to the inside of her knee, and repeats it against her other knee.
Involuntarily, her hands go to grab at his hair to bring him up to her throbbing cunt, but he grabs her wrists and slams them down on either side of her legs.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he taunts, “no hands. Do not grab my hair. No matter how much you want to, I want to see you struggle.”
She swallows back a whimper that threatens to escape her lips, and sighs quietly when she feels his lips attach themselves to the skin of her inner thigh.
He works his way up to her cunt, slowly, and she mentally curses him for how torturous he’s being.
When she feels his tongue finally slip in between her folds, she already wants to burst.
Her hands go to hold his head against her, completely forgetting his warning not to do so.
He stops licking at her to warn her again. “What did I say? Hm?”
She wishes he hadn’t restricted her eyesight, because she would do anything to look down and see his face in between her thighs. Chin and mouth covered in her juices and the ravenous look he always got in his eyes when he put his mouth on her.
“I— I’m sorry.” she lowers her hands back down at her side.
“You’re sorry, what?”
“I— I’m sorry… sir.”
She doesn’t have to see his face to know that he is smiling. “That’s my girl. You catch on quick, don’t you?”
Hermione nods and holds herself back from saying that he does too. He slips into this dominant role as if it were second nature to him.
“Keep your hands to yourself now, sweetheart. I know you want my mouth on you as much as I do. It would be a shame to have to keep stopping.”
“Then why don’t you bind them? Too scared to be a real dominant, Draco?”
She doesn’t know why she says it — why she taunts him. She supposes her dominant side feels like it was missing out on the fun and decides to make an appearance.
“Excuse me?” she feels him pull away from her and get off of his knees. The bed lowers slightly as he puts his hands on either side of her and hovers over her body, and for the first time in her life, she feels scared of him.
She regrets her words, she does. She doesn’t want to repeat them to him in fear of angering him further. But she knows he is going to make her.
It’s up to her to decide if this is going to go the easy way or the hard way.
“Hermione,” she flinches at her given name, but still refuses to repeat her words.
He laughs. “Fine. Fine. I gave you a chance. This is your funeral.”
His presence leaves and she fears he has actually abandoned her.
“Draco?”
“Shut the fuck up.” he demands from across the room.
She hears a rustling of some sort and something hard hit the surface of what she was guessing was the dresser.
And suddenly, he’s all around her again, and she jumps when she feels something hard and cool pressing up against her cunt.
Oh— oh.
The gun.
He leans over her once more, until the tips of their noses are touching.
“Hermione,” he whispers, more gently now.
“Y– yes?”
He nudges the gun further into her until it starts to enter her core, and then he stops.
A strangled moan leaves her mouth, and she is so glad she angered him — because she would never in a million years imagine he would be doing this to her unprovoked.
“You’re going to take this, okay?” He pushes more of it into her, and it stings so good.
She nods vigorously. “Yes, yes. I’ll take it, please Draco.” There are tears in her eyes that won’t fall because of how hard she is squeezing her eyes shut.
“See? See how good you can be?” He pushes more in and stops. By the feel of it, she can tell it’s only halfway in her, and it warms her that he knows if he tries to put anymore in her it would hurt. And not in a good way.
She finds that she can no longer use her voice. Whenever she opens her mouth an endless stream of whimpers and moans leave her.
He pulls it out until only the tip is inside of her and slowly eases it back in. “Look at you. You’re doing so well for me.”
“Draco—”
“Shh, you’re okay,” his movements are slow and deliberate and everything she needs, “I got you.”
The gun is stretching her to the point where it's on the verge of being painful, but not quite.
It can’t be any bigger than him.
She can feel herself being drawn closer and closer to the edge by his careful movements, and she struggles to keep her hands at her sides. All she wants is to pull him close and moan into his mouth as he works her over the edge.
“There you go, you’re almost there, aren’t you? Is it the gun or me you’re going to be thinking about when you come? Huh?”
“Draco,” she whimpers out. She’s not sure how much more of this she can take if he keeps talking to her like that.
“Me or the gun, Hermione?”
“Both, both! Your voice, th— the gun, please, please!” she cries out.
He groans loudly. “Merlin… I’m going to come so hard for you.”
And it was that that sends her over the edge.
Fireworks explode in her already impaired vision and she feels as if her legs would never stop shaking.
She vaguely feels Draco pull the gun out of her body and murmur something under his breath.
As she starts to relax, Hermione opens her eyes — forgetting that he put a charm on them so she couldn’t see. But she can see. She can see the moonlight streaming through the window as she blinks to adjust her eyesight.
And their eyes meet — and Draco looks positively feral.
She watches him as he lifts the gun to his mouth and licks across one of the sides, a groan rumbling deep within him.
He turns his attention back to her and smiles like he knows something she doesn’t. Then he moves the gun to her lips and nods at her.
“Your turn,” he urges.
She opens her mouth and drags her tongue across the opposite side he tasted, looking into his eyes as she did so.
“Mmm, don’t you taste lovely?”
He doesn’t give her the chance to respond before he steps away from her body again, pulling his pants and briefs down to his knees before throwing the gun on the bed beside her.
Draco takes his place back in between her legs and grabs behind her knees to drag her bum to the edge of the bed.
She wraps her thighs around his hips as he leans over her, placing his forearms on either side of her head.
“You’re positive?” he asks with the same softness in his voice he had earlier.
“Positive.” she confirms, looking at the gun out of the corner of her eye.
He hesitantly grabs the gun and holds the point against her temple.
“Ready?” The look in his eyes was something she could only describe as pure adrenaline.
“Ready.”
He thrusts into her so hard she moves up the bed.
“Draco,” she gasps, clinging to him. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck and her thighs secure around his hips.
“Look at me,” he gasps out with another harsh thrust.
The look in his eyes is dangerous and exciting and the gun she can feel pressing into her temple is only adding to that.
Their noses touch and their lips lock as he starts thrusting harder and harder.
She likes the sounds they make when they’re doing this. She likes their hips bones slamming together and the wet skin slapping against one another and she likes how sloppy their kisses are because they’re too busy trying to find release.
“God— fuck.” He presses the handgun the slightest bit harder into her head, and just the thought of him fucking her with it held to her head pushes her that much closer to the edge.
“I’m so close, please Draco, please!” Hermione has never begged for anything in her life. Has never needed to, but she is past the point of no return.
“Yeah? You’re gonna come again for me? Is that right? My cock and the gun too much for you?”
“Keep talk— talking, please keep talking,” she pants across his lips.
His pace has stayed the same, rough and deep, just how she needs it. Just a little more…
“What is it that you like? My words? Or my voice?” He shifts slightly and is hitting something deeper in her now that causes white to flash in her eyes.
“Your— both, both!” she’s screaming now and is so close she can taste an orgasm on the tip of her tongue. “Come on. That’s— fuck, that’s it. Be a good girl and come on my cock.”
She throws her head back and screams until her throat is raw. Her whole body feels as if it is vibrating and will never stop.
Hermione feels him thrust two more times before freezes and groans into her shoulder. She feels the weight of the gun drop by her head and the next thing she feels is his strong arms wrapping around her back, holding her close to him.
They both shiver as he pulls out of her and rolls away from the gun, rolling her on top of him.
He waits until they both catch their breath to break the silence. “Was that good for you?”
She wants to laugh, but is afraid he’ll take it the wrong way. “Draco that— that was everything.”
His chest vibrates as he silently laughs, and she feels him thrust his hips into hers. “Round two?”
She lifts her head up from his chest to look into his eyes.
“Only if you let me hold the gun to your head.”
He smiles warmly at her and rolls her onto her back.
“Deal.”