Try Not To Come
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“Jesus,” he blurted. “What—?”
“Sorry, sorry,” she interrupted, closing her eyes and pressing a hand to her forehead. “I just…sorry, give me a second to clear my head.”
She refused to explain why the first thing he’d seen when entering her mind was a rather vivid recollection of her last masturbation session. How embarrassing. She thought about walking in a forest – the least sexy thing she could think of – and then doubled down by picturing herself in the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts. In the rain. In January.
“Okay.” She exhaled and met his eyes again. “Okay, it’s safe now. Go ahead.”
He looked dubious but raised his wand and spoke the incantation again.
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Or, Hermione can't remember an important piece of intel and so Draco is assigned to help find it.
Series
- Part 1 of Try Not To Come
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She gave him a friendly smile, heart hammering.
He returned it, popping out an earbud. “Hey.”
She’d heard his voice from across the gym countless times but never directed toward her. She felt like an idiot for being so affected by it.
“Hi.” She felt breathless and knew it wasn’t from the jogging. She sought about for something else to say to keep him looking at her. “Where’re your friends?”
He raised a brow, lips twitching up into his typical half-smile. “Oh? One of them in particular?”
She couldn’t help her automatic scoff. Sure, they were handsome, too, but she’d had her eyes set only on him since the get go and neither the tall-and-dark nor the curly-haired man could compete.
His grin widened at her reaction. “They’ll be devastated to hear that you made that sound.”
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Or, Hermione finds a compelling reason to get a gym membership
Series
- Part 2 of Try Not To Come
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“There’s no way.” Hermione prided herself in always keeping an open mind, but even she had limits on what she’d take someone’s word on.
Across the small pub table, Draco looked amused and undeterred. “I’m not sure why you sound so surprised.”
“A full orgasm?” she reiterated skeptically. “From start to finish?”
As he sipped his pint, he flicked his brows once in acknowledgement that, yes, that’s what he’d meant.
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Or where Hermione refuses to take Draco at his word.
Series
- Part 3 of Try Not To Come
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The ice-cold mist assaulted him first, contrasting with the comparatively warm air and highlighting exactly how terrible his next two minutes were about it be. Was it worth it? To step under the spray and snuff out a little bit of his happiness forever?
He thought of the look she would send him as he walked into the Great Hall, the way her gaze always found his and held for a tiny, infinitesimal moment before she was either drawn back into conversation, or completed whatever eating-or-drinking action she’d been midway through, or—beautifully, disastrously—sent a tiny smile over at him.
The shiver that wracked through him had nothing to do with the goosebumps pricking along his entire body. The ache in his groin was unending.
Fuck.
He stepped under the spray.
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Or, Draco resorts to a cold shower or two.
Series
- Part 4 of Try Not To Come