dreamsdescent
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“So we...we didn’t…” He feels his ears getting hot, and--it turns out there’s just no way to delicately ask the girl next door, the girl you’ve been in unrequited love with for almost as long as you can remember, whether or not you had drunken, sloppy, dubiously-consenting sex with her the night before.
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“I happen to like your short skirts,” he whispered. Hermione gasped and met his eyes where they angled toward hers, the grey darkening under his light lashes. “They give me a lovely view of your legs.”
Ron makes Hermione cry, Draco sees his opening. ;)
Dedicated to Elithien's lovely Dramione Art: Fighting the purity police one porn at at time!
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The New 18 by dreamsdescent for monsterleadmehome, Graendoll
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
04 Nov 2019
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Her right ankle buckled, lurching her forward into a tall, lean chest. Correspondingly strong hands steadied her around the waist. And a cool, familiar voice—like something out of a dream—drawled, “Watch it, Granger.”
Or, Hermione heads for the rebound and lands on something very impractical, indeed.
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It had started so well, the two of them falling in bed at night exhausted but giddy with their success, with their love, with their pride in each other. Who else in the whole galaxy could possibly be as lucky, as happy, as they?
It had started so well, but things have a way of falling apart. They learned that the weight of success is even greater than the weight of failure. Now there was so much to lose. Now there were nights with no sleep at all, and days with no laughter.
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“You don't have to worry about me,” she said, stiffening again. “I can do it, I don't need—“
He cut her off with a kiss. “Rey,” he said, firmly but ever so gently. “You don't have to do this by yourself anymore. Remember? I told you. You're not alone.”
Or, Ben and Rey love their baby more than anything, but old abandonment issues die hard.
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“You are at St. Mungo’s. You were in a coma.” He looks me over again, taking a pause. “I am a Healer here now,” he says, like it explains something. My fingers stretch, drifting across his sleeve. He looks down, like I’ve thrown mud at him.
Forcing my vocal chords together for the first time, I whisper, “What’s your name?”
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Bookmarked by dreamsdescent
11 Sep 2019