Prompt 1: Hate - Hermione Granger -HP
Title: With All My Heart
Pairing: Hermione/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: HP
Word Count: 758
God she hated him, her fingers were actually itching to wrap around that delicious white throat. Her eyes burned, flames shooting through them as she rounded on him. He only smiled, the little shit. “Get out,” she growled, still refusing to face him.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she knew he was coming closer. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore his approach but his hands on her waist made that impossible.
“I told you not to touch me.”
“And I chose to ignore you.”
She flinched away from his hands and snapped, “I saw you with her.”
“I was only with her because you wouldn’t come near me.”
“And for a good reason. Well, you’ve made me feel a little better, now at least I don’t feel bad about sleeping with Zabini.” She could almost feel the anger shoot through him and smiled satisfactorily to herself.
This time when he spoke his voice was cold and hard. “You fucked Blaise? What the hell, why?”
“Because!” she yelled, finally rounding on him. “Because you weren’t there for me, he was, well at least as a good fuck! You come back fully expecting me to forgive you like nothing happened, how can I? God Draco, what is wrong with you? That’s what I thought; it doesn’t feel so good being on the receiving end.” Finished, she turned her gaze back to the fire.
He had come around in front of her now, refusing to talk to her back. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, not unlike his fathers’. “You slut, willing to spread your legs for anyone aren’t you? I should have known.” He bent closer, placing hands against the back of the chair on either side of her head. “You liked it didn’t you, screamed as he fucked you, begging him to go harder, faster.”
The fire blazing in the hearth couldn’t even rival that in her eyes as she shrieked and lashed out. Shoving him back, hard enough to send him into the stone wall, she screamed, “don’t you dare talk to me like that! You’re the one who jumps on every bitch like a horny mutt!” She had rushed forward, holding him against the wall. “I hate you!”
His breathing was quickening and he grabbed her shoulders, switching their positions. In a move neither expected he caught her lips up in a rough kiss. “Show me how much you hate me.”
“I will,” she panted, biting down him his lower lip before pulling back to suck on it. He groaned and yanked her legs up to straddle his waist, grinding against her. She grabbed at his hair, ripping out the cord holding it back so the slivery white strand fell across his shoulders.
Almost frantic she began pulling at his jeans, shoving them down his waist instead of unbuttoning them. “No boxers, you came here expecting a fuck.”
“I knew I could get it.” He had rolled her skirt up to her waist and pushed two fingers into her. Fire shot through her, doubling her passion and only increasing her anger. It wasn’t enough, she needed more, she needed him. Reaching down, she pulled his hands away and shocked him as she roughly sheathed him in her wet warmth.
Sweat made their skin slick and she dug her long nails deep into his back, dragging down the soft skin to leave bleeding scratches, not unlike those on her heart. “God I hate you.”
“Don’t tell me,” he whispered, shoving his cock in to the hilt. “Show me, Hermione.” Her heels pressed into his back and he slammed her against the wall. She couldn’t feel the pain, the bruises forming across her skin, only the fire, the anger, the hate.
They came togeather, screams loud enough to wake the dead. And then it was over, the only evidence of their passion the bruises on her skin and scratches down his back. They faced each other, panting and arms still wrapped around their bodies.
“I still hate you with all my heart,” she whispered, there was no trace of love in her voice, not anymore, that had disappeared the first time she’d found him with another.
He didn’t say anything, just turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. A sob caught in her throat and she sank to the ground. The anger was gone, and the passion, and love, all she had left was the hate; he’d even taken her pride as he vanished through the door.
Pairing: Hermione/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: HP
Word Count: 758
God she hated him, her fingers were actually itching to wrap around that delicious white throat. Her eyes burned, flames shooting through them as she rounded on him. He only smiled, the little shit. “Get out,” she growled, still refusing to face him.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she knew he was coming closer. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore his approach but his hands on her waist made that impossible.
“I told you not to touch me.”
“And I chose to ignore you.”
She flinched away from his hands and snapped, “I saw you with her.”
“I was only with her because you wouldn’t come near me.”
“And for a good reason. Well, you’ve made me feel a little better, now at least I don’t feel bad about sleeping with Zabini.” She could almost feel the anger shoot through him and smiled satisfactorily to herself.
This time when he spoke his voice was cold and hard. “You fucked Blaise? What the hell, why?”
“Because!” she yelled, finally rounding on him. “Because you weren’t there for me, he was, well at least as a good fuck! You come back fully expecting me to forgive you like nothing happened, how can I? God Draco, what is wrong with you? That’s what I thought; it doesn’t feel so good being on the receiving end.” Finished, she turned her gaze back to the fire.
He had come around in front of her now, refusing to talk to her back. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, not unlike his fathers’. “You slut, willing to spread your legs for anyone aren’t you? I should have known.” He bent closer, placing hands against the back of the chair on either side of her head. “You liked it didn’t you, screamed as he fucked you, begging him to go harder, faster.”
The fire blazing in the hearth couldn’t even rival that in her eyes as she shrieked and lashed out. Shoving him back, hard enough to send him into the stone wall, she screamed, “don’t you dare talk to me like that! You’re the one who jumps on every bitch like a horny mutt!” She had rushed forward, holding him against the wall. “I hate you!”
His breathing was quickening and he grabbed her shoulders, switching their positions. In a move neither expected he caught her lips up in a rough kiss. “Show me how much you hate me.”
“I will,” she panted, biting down him his lower lip before pulling back to suck on it. He groaned and yanked her legs up to straddle his waist, grinding against her. She grabbed at his hair, ripping out the cord holding it back so the slivery white strand fell across his shoulders.
Almost frantic she began pulling at his jeans, shoving them down his waist instead of unbuttoning them. “No boxers, you came here expecting a fuck.”
“I knew I could get it.” He had rolled her skirt up to her waist and pushed two fingers into her. Fire shot through her, doubling her passion and only increasing her anger. It wasn’t enough, she needed more, she needed him. Reaching down, she pulled his hands away and shocked him as she roughly sheathed him in her wet warmth.
Sweat made their skin slick and she dug her long nails deep into his back, dragging down the soft skin to leave bleeding scratches, not unlike those on her heart. “God I hate you.”
“Don’t tell me,” he whispered, shoving his cock in to the hilt. “Show me, Hermione.” Her heels pressed into his back and he slammed her against the wall. She couldn’t feel the pain, the bruises forming across her skin, only the fire, the anger, the hate.
They came togeather, screams loud enough to wake the dead. And then it was over, the only evidence of their passion the bruises on her skin and scratches down his back. They faced each other, panting and arms still wrapped around their bodies.
“I still hate you with all my heart,” she whispered, there was no trace of love in her voice, not anymore, that had disappeared the first time she’d found him with another.
He didn’t say anything, just turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. A sob caught in her throat and she sank to the ground. The anger was gone, and the passion, and love, all she had left was the hate; he’d even taken her pride as he vanished through the door.