#mallfoii

[mugglebrn]

you taste so sweet

Thighs clench around his hips, moaning softly as his teeth sink into the delicate flesh of her breast, cutting through the skin like a hot knife through butter. He takes his time with it, gentle and adoring, his fingers gripping into her waist, holding him to her as if afraid she'd simply float away in the euphoria of it all.

Her head lolls to the side and Draco reaches up with one hand, splaying it over the side of her neck, notching his thumb beneath the sharp angle of her jaw, his palm pressed against her thrumming pulse. Despite the lazy, lethargic roll of her neck, her heartbeat is strong, assuring him he has not taken so much blood as to weaken her. Not even close.

Hermione's fingers hold onto him just as possessively, gripping his shoulders, nails biting it his skin just shy of hard enough to break through. His mouth pulls away from the bite and she feels the hot dribble of blood trickling down onto her stomach, sees the crimson smear of it staining his mouth, tongue lapping in an attempt not to waste a drop.

You taste so sweet.

Those words alone would be enough to draw another moan from her, but paired with the drag of his lips over her peaked nipple and the dropping of his hand to tug her by her bum until he's flush against his lap and she's completely lost in him.

[mugglebrn]

[ LICK. ]  the sender licks blood from the receiver’s wound

He's better at improvising when it comes to potions. It's a fact she will reluctantly admit. It's not that she's bad at, per se, but she's always been somebody who works best within structure and confinement. Substitutions and working on the fly are things she's had to teach herself over the years, they don't come naturally. Not like they do for him. Where it might take her hours to puzzle over a potential change to a recipe, Draco concludes in minutes, committing to it before she's even begun her list of pros and cons. It's kind of infuriating just how easily it comes to him.

"And if you've added too much and it thickens too quickly? Then we've ruined yet another batch," Hermione huffs, so distracted by watching him pour in another half an ounce of sopophorous bean juice into the concoction that her knife slips, slicing into her palm.

"Ouch," Hermione startles, dropping the knife with a clatter, ruby red droplets pattering onto the chopping board as she raises her hand to assess the damage. Not particularly nasty but it is deep enough that she bleeds freely, rivulets dribbling down her wrist. "Pass me that cloth, will you?"

It's easy to forget (even as they work on a potion being created specifically to benefit his kind) what he is. What he was changed into, and what it is that he craves above all else. That is until she looks up at him, finding his gaze fixated on her bleeding hand, his breathing heavy and affected, fangs peeking out from between plump lips. He looks like he wants to devour her. And god, if she didn't feel that pull within herself begging to let him.

Hermione doesn't think beyond that, she just acts, taking a step towards him, the movement enough to momentarily rip his gaze from her hand to her eyes; confused and questioning. It doesn't last long because she's reaching out with her injured hand, hovering it in front of his mouth in invitation. Her breath catches in her throat as his hold wraps around her wrist, smearing the blood, coating his long fingers in it, eyes locked on hers as he leans forward, tongue laving over cut. Warm and wet. The noise she lets out is entirely involuntary, too quiet to be a moan, but too loud and needy to be the exhalation of air. He hears it all the same and there's a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise. Lust. Hunger. Whatever it is, it fuels his confidence, gripping her wrist tighter, tongue dragging over her wrist, her blood coating his tongue.

[pcraspcra-arc]

"I know how big words are!!" / for hermione (: | @mallfoii

"Impressive! Care to share one of your favorite big words?" She gives a playful smirk, amused at what seemed to be his indignation.

Dr. Phil out of context rp starters

[thechosengryffindor-archive]

❝ you had not expected this. ❞ from @mallfoii

"I don't know what to expect with you Malfoy." Green eyes examine his one time rival, truth be told he had no idea where they stood now and part of him didn't care. "Is that why you're here? Rub it in my face that you're not the same..."

He paused, the smallest hint of a smirk, "Foul little cockroach I believe was the term Hermione used? Paraphrasing and all that." But he knew that antagonizing the other wouldn't actually make him feel better. "What do you want, anyway?"

[mugglebrn]

"I don't want to bite you."

HE'S MORE PALE THAN SHE REMEMBERS HIM BEING IN SCHOOL AND IT STRIKES HER FRESH EVERY TIME SHE SEES HIM AGAIN. As if prone to forgetting what he had underwent, reverting him back to that snot-nosed bully any time he's not near. When he is, it's undeniable how far removed he is from that horrible memory she keeps of him. And that's not just about the vampirism.

Under any other circumstances she would have told him to sod off, to take one step and see how close he got before she hexed him right across the room. It wouldn't be very professional though. And how can she expect wizarding kind to show more tolerance towards vampires if she can lead by example?

Instead she takes a steadying breath, squashing down the instinctual need to spar any time she hears his voice. She told him she'd help him, and she's a woman of her word.

"Well, that makes two of us. I just bought this blouse and some of us don't have a bottomless trust fund," it's a good-natured quip, light and not too personal. Safe territory for them. What's not safe territory is imaging Malfoy with his fangs in her neck, lips flush against her pulse and tongue lapping at her skin. "If you're hungry we keep... provisions down the hall. For when vampire representatives come through on business. I can go grab something for you if you wanted?"

[mugglebrn]

@mallfoii cont. from here

A SMALL WHIMPER LEAVES HER PARTING LIPS AND HER LASHES FLUTTER, SLOWLY COMING TO AS SOMETHING BLISSFULLY COOL IS PRESSED TO HER OVERHEATED SKIN. She's burning up; her skin flushed and sweaty, every muscle feeling achy and sluggish like the world's worst flu is coursing through her body. The whimper is followed by a soft groan of discomfort, face screwing up before her eyes finally open. The world is blurry and off-kilter, and it takes a few seconds for her eyes to rove around listlessly before she finally recognises the intricate glass panelled windows and the crisp white linen beds across from hers. The infirmary.

The last thing she remembers is being called to McGonagall's office and being asked to partake in the next challenge, her head of house promising that she would be safe and well-cared for and that experts would perform the necessary spell work. She'd consented of course, having the utmost trust in her teacher and what she deemed to be safe. What happened after that is a mystery to her and she feels too rotten to try and puzzle it out, her head pounding with every thought she tries to force.

As her eyes slip into focus, they come to rest on familiar slate-grey eyes and despite her weakened state, she smiles, a state of calm washing over her with his presence. If he was here, then she would be okay. Whatever had happened, everything was all right with Draco.

"What happened?"

[mugglebrn]

❛  it makes me smile when you drip like that before i even touched you.  ❜

HER DORM ROOM DOOR IS BARELY CLOSED BEHIND THEM BEFORE HE HAS HER PRESSED UP AGAINST IT, HIS FINGERS TRAILING UP HER THIGH AND MEETING THE SOAKED FABRIC OF HER KNICKERS. Hermione lets out a pitiful whimper at the praise, her hips bucking, seeking out any sort of her pressure that could soothe the ache between her legs. It's his fault. She had been innocently studying in the library, minding her business as she read through her notes, sucking on a sugar quill.

How was she to know that he'd been watching as her pink tongue darted out to lick at the spun-sugar? How was she meant to know she had eyes on her when her plump lips wrapped around the carved end, pushing the sweet treat into her mouth as she sucked? She swears she hadn't even known he was there until he was sitting beside her, playing innocent when he asked if she knew what she was doing, insisting she'd had no idea he was even in the library and punctuating the lie with another suck on the quill, her eyes locked on his. And he punished her for her teasing by doing some of his own; leaning in close and whispering all the things he wanted to do to her, promising that he wouldn't touch her until she had learned her lesson. All she'd had were his sinful words and his fingers brushing innocently against her knee as he murmured them, and she was soaked. Feverish and dizzy with her want for him.

The thought of N.E.W.T.s. abandoned, she'd never cursed the anti-apparition wards in Hogwarts more than as she rushed through the hallways with him hot on her heels, that insufferable smirk on his face everytime she dared to glance back.

Dark eyes look up at him imploringly as @mallfoii presses against the thin fabric, circling her clit once before withdrawing and leaving her panting. It's not enough. She wants more, needs more, would do anything for him to just touch her properly. "Please, Draco..." Hermione whines, fingers curled in his white button-down as he leans down over her, tilting her face up slightly to bump her nose against his, knowing by now the way to get what she wants from him. Knowing what he wants to hear from her. Understanding that her affection is something that makes him unable to deny her. Her nose follows his cheekbone, lips brushing against his cheek, feathering warm kisses across it as she whispers. "I'll be good."

[mugglebrn]

@mallfoii cont. from here

A SHIVER RUNS DOWN HER SPINE AS HIS LIPS MEET HER SHOULDER, THE CASUALLY INTIMATE ACT SO UNEXPECTED FROM HIM THAT SHE HALF EXPECTS SHE'S DREAMING. He's always been big on touch, of course. Always in her space, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, or brushing his fingertips along the dip of her waist. Always pushing boundaries. And then there was the infirmary, when his hands seemed to be all over her, when it felt as if his fingers were sinking deep into her flesh and making a home there, claiming it all for himself.

But he'd not kissed her yet. Not on the lips. It was as if they were doing everything backwards. Making grand proclamations to each other before she'd even felt what it was to have his mouth on hers.

Hermione mourns the loss of him as he moves away, but she also welcomes it, remembers that she's still not forgiven him completely. That this is all about him proving himself to her. As a girl who values actions over words, it's difficult. So hard to trust without acts to back up his promises, but she has no choice, he's not in any position to show her his intentions. Not yet. For now, a date would have to do.

"You did all of this yourself?" she asks with some mild skepticism, moving towards the table to take a seat in the offered chair, allowing him to tuck it in for her. Hermione could almost laugh at the turn of events, from dancing in the arms of another boy, to fighting with him in the hallway, to sitting down for a dinner date. At least the dress is getting some good use, it is rather beautiful.

"You are aware that I left a perfectly lovely date out there without so much as a goodbye, aren't you?" her guilts flares over abandoning poor Viktor. "I should really go back..." she doesn't want to, but she doesn't know how to be selfish enough to hurt other people to serve her own wants.