between belfast and cardiff | d.m. x reader
word count: 2614
warnings: nsfw, smut, penetrative sex, dirty talk, draco being an absolute simp
“in my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side. with your hands between your thighs... when you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect?”
draco had never much cared for the hallowed halls of malfoy manor.
not until he’d invited you to visit him on a layover between your mum’s in belfast to your dad’s in cardiff, at least. you lit up the marble and green halls like sunshine personified in a dress with a smile he was beginning to hate because he knew with absolute certainty he’d do anything you asked of him if only it brought that smile to your face.
malfoy manor sat on a great patch of land, acres and acres of woods behind and around the house and because you’d asked, he’d taken you this morning on a walk through them. he guessed it was about noon now, with the way the sun was high in the sky and glinting off your hair, lighting up your eyes. you were lightly sunburnt and it had brought out freckles on your bare shoulders and for the life of him, draco couldn’t tear his eyes away. he wanted to kiss them, kiss you.
he dragged a hand through his hair instead. “did that satiate your curiosity?” he asked, tone clipped. he was being right pathetic.
“god, draco, stop - you know what that tone does to me,” you deadpanned.
“sarcasm is unbecoming,” he snapped at you.
a small smile was on your lips. “and yet, here you stand, enraptured by my mere presence.”
he scoffed.
___
you’d cooked for him and something in his chest felt tight. “is it any good?” you asked tentatively from beneath long lashes. he’d known you since he could really remember - had seen you with choppy bangs you’d cut yourself, had seen the baby fat melt off your face as you’d seen him grow into the gawky angles of his. he’d watched it happen but it still felt so sudden, so utterly jarring. it was like he’d only looked away for a second, bent down to tie his shoe, and looked back up and you were there. willowy and graceful as a nymph, your laugh echoing around him as he ran to catch up to you.
draco carefully set down his fork and knife, “much better than the last time you cooked for me.”
you burst out laughing. “what, you’re too good for mudpies, dray?”
he was smiling back at you before he realized it. stood up, gathered his dishes and held out his free hand to you, still in your chair at the head of his dining table. “come on, darling,” he offered softly, “i’ll help you with the dishes.”
___
you were biting your nails, warm and drowning in draco’s too-big jacket in central london while he snapped, “that’s disgusting,” down at you.
you flicked your eyes up at him briefly, nerves alight in your stomach. he looked too good in just that starched white dress shirt and neatly pressed black slacks, his pale hair pushed out of his face and his scent enveloping you. “don’t look, then,” you replied absently. normally you had less patience for draco’s snippy attitude but your mind was too elsewhere to give it much thought. you had a plan and if you didn’t move soon - if you stood here next to him any longer - you’d lose your nerve. “go ahead to the three broomsticks, i’ll meet you,” you told him.
“what, you haven’t had your fill?” a pale brow flicked up at you, his arms laden with shopping bags. heat rushed to your face, burning. he’d bought you half of london today, you were sure of it. before you could manage a reply though, he was grabbing your wrist, bringing your hand up, folding your fingers around his black card. “get whatever you want,” he held your eyes for a long second and turned. within a minute you’d lost his tall figure in the bustling crowd and took in a fortifying breath.
okay.
okay.
you headed for the little lingerie shop you’d seen a couple blocks back.
___
the aftertaste of butterbeer was turning acrid in his mouth as he thought of you.
was he being pathetic, acting like this? or just ridiculous? both, he decided. but there was something so satisfying in watching you tout in and out of dressing rooms, doing little spins just for him, in the glimpses of bare skin as you turned your back to him and his knuckles skimmed up your spine as he zipped dress after dress. something so raw in the knowledge that no matter what, no matter if he was being right pathetic, no matter who put their eyes - or god forbid, their hands - on you, it would be him. his galleons you were wrapped up in, his opinion you valued, his…his.
he stewed in his thoughts, so wrapped up in himself he didn’t notice you until you were beside him, tapping him on the shoulder in his jacket.
without him realizing it, draco’s muscles loosened, the crease between his brows cleared and a smug expression took up residence on his face. “darling,” he drawled.
“are you ready to go, dray?” you asked, handing him back his card.
he got to his feet. “am i a poor man now, darling?”
you snorted and rolled your eyes and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “i couldn’t make you a poor man if i tried.”
___
in somewhat of a mood, draco made his way to his room. you’d excused yourself to bed early, claiming all the walking had tired you out today, and he’d found his mood plummeting the moment you weren’t by his side.
he was angry at you for it - at himself. you were just a girl.
he sighed deeply. yes, just a girl. but a girl who wrote in the books he lent her, stole his uniform ties, competed fiercely with him for top of the class and who had a smile that could make him see the point in this miserable bloody world.
he pushed open his door prepared for -
he blinked. squinted in the dim light bleeding from the waning moon outside his window.
this was not what he’d been prepared for.
“darling?” he inquired. he could see your pale calves, your instep lit by the moonlight, but your face was hidden in night.
“lumos,” your voice was a whisper and candles flared to life around the room.
it took a long moment before draco was able to compose a sentence. because there you were - laying on your stomach on his bed, not at all decent in a strappy little thing, your legs kicked into the air, crossed at the ankles. he cleared his throat, tried for words that wouldn’t, simply couldn’t, form. he took a cautious step forward, one after the other, until he was at the foot of his bed and you were sitting up, getting to your knees.
your lingerie was composed of lace and he could barely decide where to focus his attention - your face, eyes burning as you stared back at him and your cheeks pink; your tits, barely contained by the frail fabric of your bra, your nipples peaked through the fabric; or perhaps at the barely-there panties crowned with a bow, like your pussy was a present waiting to be opened by him.
you were crawling towards him. “all this for me?” he inquired, letting a finger trail, feather-light, barely there, across your exposed midriff. you nodded, lip bitten between teeth. “how cute,” draco mused, the two of you staring at each other. “how filthy.”
you lunged at him, pressing your mouth to his, grabbing onto his shoulders. everything about the action felt desperate but he didn’t mind. he pressed back into you, kissing you like it was a competition, like he was trying to prove something. he supposed he was.
after all, what was the point of this if he couldn’t prove to you exactly why this was the best idea you’d ever come up with?
he let the hands on your waist trail everywhere. your skin was so fucking soft. you smelled like nighttime air and tasted like the apple you’d shared for dessert. you were gasping for breath and draco was more than happy to breathe it back into you.
your hands were fumbling at his pants, the clang of his belt buckle loud amid your harsh, desperate breaths. even the slightest hint of contact from you had him jumping out of his skin, sent electricity jolting through him. it felt like cruel teasing as you tried to get him out of his pants, if only because it was taking so long.
your hand slipped below the waistband of his briefs and he was going to die before the hour was out. your cool fingertips caressed the over-sensitive head of him and a low sound clawed its way out of his throat.
your small hand began pumping him and he had to grab your wrist to stop you. another minute of that and he thought his head would blow off and he’d ruin his pants before he’d even gotten to touch you, to see how wet your little pussy was for him.
he knocked you back on the bed, his chest heaving. you were staring up at him, bright-eyed in the dim room as he began undoing the buttons of his creased oxford. “i don’t care what this is for,” he told you. “if it’s because you feel like you need to repay me for all the money i spent on you today or because of my gracious hosting abilities -” you huffed out a breathless laugh. “all i care,” he continued, now descending on you, bare-chested, “is that i get to have you.”
you didn’t answer, and he didn’t care. maybe he was selfish to simply take what you were offering without question, but you were half-naked below him and tugging at his hair, begging for his mouth back. he toyed with the crisscrossing straps of the top you wore, a half-amused tilt to his mouth before he took the letter opener on his nightstand to them, letting them fall to the wayside to reveal your tits.
he nearly fell to his knees at the sight and used the letter opener to make quick work of the rest of your ensemble. you shivered below him at the feel of the metal, at the feel of him, he suspected.
when you were entirely bare beneath him, draco dragged a finger from slit to sternum. he fell on your tits ravenously, sucking at them, biting lightly, caressing your nipples, making you desperate for more - for something heavier, headier. his mind was running wild with every indecent, depraved idea he’d ever had about you. he’d once stared at your tits in a low cut top and fantasized about having them bounce in his face as your rode him; had imagined tying up your hands and fucking you until you cried and squirmed and begged for mercy.
draco couldn’t decide, and while he deliberated, eyes blown black above you, you decided for him. you hooked your legs around his narrow hips and rolled him, not without some struggle, onto his back. you shivered atop him as your cunt brushed across his abdomen as you scooted down, your body wreathed in moonlight. draco tossed his head back, groaned as if in pain as you hovered above his cock, brushing the head of him through your slick, warm folds. “no,” he said, “no - absolutely not,” and flipped you back onto the bed.
you landed with a soft sound of surprise and draco pushed your thighs open, settling himself between them and lining his cock up. when he pushed himself, slowly, oh so slowly, into you he thought he might die, and he couldn’t decide if the noise you made - a gasping sort of whimper - helped or made it worse.
when he bottomed out in you, he stopped - stared with a look rivaling madness at where you were connected.
“kiss me,” you begged, and clenched around him when he did.
draco began a slow rhythm, and you writhed around below him, squirmy, with restless legs and wandering hands. “tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he murmured against your jaw.
“more,” you tugged at his hair. “i didn’t get all dressed up with the intention of being able to walk tomorrow.”
heat blazed through him and draco sat back on his knees, observing you for a long moment before he smirked and his hands went to your hips. tipped them up an inch or two. and fucked you hard. fast, punishing thrusts that made your tits bounce and your vision unsteady.
“dra-ay,” his name was a broken sound out of your mouth. you reached up with grabbing hands; draco pulled you up into his chest so now you were perched on his thighs, arms loose over his shoulders and mouth at his jaw, his neck, biting and sucking. he’d have bruises tomorrow. his hands moved down to your ass, lifting you up and down on his cock. with every movement your nipples scraped against his chest and your clit against his pelvis.
your nails scored into his back when he shifted a little, high, frenzied moans falling from your parted lips. draco echoed your moans back to you, “yeah, you like that, darling? still think you’ll be able to leave this bed tomorrow?”
“ho-ope, n-o-ot,” you stuttered out.
“that’s my girl,” draco toppled you both back to the bed, pressing in close and heavy on top of you, his thrusts pushing your body up the bed slowly, until your head nearly hit the headboard and the sheets were half-stripped off the mattress. “that’s my fuckin’ girl,” he said again, words slurring together as you squeezed around him, arched into him, gasping, “yes - oh yes yesyesyes, gonna come, dracodracodraco -”
“taking my cock so good - takin’ everything i’ve got t’give you and still beggin’ f’more. gonna let me feel you soak my fucking cock, baby?”
you nearly screamed as you came apart around him, shuddering, thighs twitching. you grabbed him so frantically he thought it might have hurt if he could feel anything past your cunt milking his cock so hard he thought he might die.
“gonna make me come, baby - fuck. are you gonna let me fill up this pretty little pussy when i do?”
you nodded, gasped, “yes yes yes - please dray - want you to come.”
your words, the look on your face, the little sounds escaping you, your tits, the way you were squeezing him warm and so, so fucking wet - it was all too much and draco went falling over the edge. he moaned, hoarse and low as he pumped you full of his come, squeezing at your waist hard enough he’d feel bad about it later. you were a malleable thing beneath him and he collapsed over you, barely catching himself on his hands before crushing you under his weight. he kissed you bruisingly before falling onto his back next to you, arm thrown over his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
after a moment, you were leaning over him, propped up on his side. your hair brushed against him and you laughed brightly, almost disbelievingly.
draco lowered his arm, narrowed his eyes at you. his pale face was splotched with red. “what?” he demanded.
“if i’d known you were as good at that as you are at running your mouth i wouldn’t have wasted the first half of my visit getting on your nerves.”
draco couldn’t help help the startled laugh that burst from him. “to think i could’ve just bent you over the furniture when you started getting on my nerves.”
“a national tragedy, really. but you’ll remember that idea for next time, yeah?”
