Hi!
Hey, I'm new to the community && I'm posting my first drabble.
Might continue, never know...
So, please comment/criticize, I welcome harshness :)
Title: Lego Reality
Author: GrannyCrunk
Rating: R/NC-17 for sexual content & language
Word Count: 185
Disclaimer: Please don't sue, Hermione and Draco are JKR's toys. Which I borrow occasionally.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This doesn’t mean anything, Granger.
She was possibly the only woman who would actually get her knickers even more soaked by these words, along with her current resemblance to a porcupine-her hairs on her arm standing on end. The miniscule hairs standing at attention brought her around, through her drunken state, to consider that this was real, that, in objection to Malfoy’s low growl earlier, it did mean something. She contradicted herself. Scolded herself, actually considering fanciful thoughts such as “love”. It was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crooning the sweet gasps of perfection into her ear. And since when did she relate sex with that blasted Lavender Brown-esque emotion? A firewhiskey-driven fuck linked hand in hand with the elaborate imagination of wedding bells and a couple on their deathbed, side by side, nearing the end of their eternity.
Hermione Granger was definitely sloshed.
Fucking hell, Granger, be your own architect of reality.
Those were the words of her seduction. And now, there they were: his cock, her pussy. Her cum on his jizz-dribbled cock equals a fetus without a womb, but double the stickiness.
Might continue, never know...
So, please comment/criticize, I welcome harshness :)
Title: Lego Reality
Author: GrannyCrunk
Rating: R/NC-17 for sexual content & language
Word Count: 185
Disclaimer: Please don't sue, Hermione and Draco are JKR's toys. Which I borrow occasionally.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This doesn’t mean anything, Granger.
She was possibly the only woman who would actually get her knickers even more soaked by these words, along with her current resemblance to a porcupine-her hairs on her arm standing on end. The miniscule hairs standing at attention brought her around, through her drunken state, to consider that this was real, that, in objection to Malfoy’s low growl earlier, it did mean something. She contradicted herself. Scolded herself, actually considering fanciful thoughts such as “love”. It was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crooning the sweet gasps of perfection into her ear. And since when did she relate sex with that blasted Lavender Brown-esque emotion? A firewhiskey-driven fuck linked hand in hand with the elaborate imagination of wedding bells and a couple on their deathbed, side by side, nearing the end of their eternity.
Hermione Granger was definitely sloshed.
Fucking hell, Granger, be your own architect of reality.
Those were the words of her seduction. And now, there they were: his cock, her pussy. Her cum on his jizz-dribbled cock equals a fetus without a womb, but double the stickiness.