Pour DeMoKa, parce que je t'aime.
A wait for it -----Happy!!! Oneshot. And I have decided to takes some artistic license and write some smut. Not much plot, just smut (Feymist is back in her element). DeMoKa Now you have a chance to be in my shoes and read my M15+ scenes and go o.O;;;;;;. twitch.
To anyone else Enjoy. Not my horrific French, but the rest of it. May have very light SM overtones. Cross that. Gets REALLY PRETTY KINKY. Beware, vanillas! (Later note. Ok. Bear with me. This seems to have developed a bit of plot. If you're looking for smut only, ctrl+f 'and you kiss back'). Give me feedback on the second piece of smut that I have ever written!! (And gosh is it hard)
Song – Stay Away by Rooney.
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Stay away from my friends
They're smooth operators looking for a way in -
"Ronald! Could you please stop gawking at her for a second? It's rude to stare!" Hermione whispered furiously, blushing, "and she can see you Ron! She's looking over at us now."
"Yeah, she is," Ron replied in a hoarse, bemused voice, continuing to stare with a slightly slack-jawed expression. Hermione waved her hand in front of his face, but it was like trying to wake a victim of the Dementor's Kiss. She huffed, exasperated. Then she caught Harry glancing guiltily over at Fleur, red faced as he tried desperately to maintain eye contact with Ginny sitting across the table from him - which wasn't helping at all because the she was staring straight at Fleur too, eyes dreamy.
"Harry - Ginny!! Can we just stop staring!!! All of you! Now!" Hermione continued futilely. She cursed herself in her mind for having picked this particular restaurant for tonight.
The ministry covered a large number of living expenses for Ministry workers in the Department of Mysteries, allowing Hermione to live quite comfortably. She hadn't been completely in favour of exploiting the generous allowances provided by the Ministry until she had worked in the Department for about a year before being taken aside by the wizard in charge of the Department of Mysteries. Amagus Dennery was an old, wrinkled man in possession of all the curious charm of a particularly lucid witticism, and at one glance, told her to take a vacation effective immediately.
"My dear, dear girl, you look terrible. Hermione...Granger, is that correct? Let me see, let me see. Been working here for...eleven months, no break! You were part of the Fingus Project, am I correct? You are to take a vacation. Immediately. No questions. The average turnover rate is once every six months, surely you knew that? Six months here, and then six in Bali or some such place. We can't have nervous wrecks fiddling around, falling over themselves. Crucial? No one is crucial. Now leave. Out of my sight, and I don't want to see you for another six months, at least. What do you think the allowance is for, girl? Take some friends. I don't care. Go!"
She had protested weakly, but in fact was realising how drawn and haggard she felt. She had been literally consumed by her work, the most fascinating, dangerous, volatile projects, but her boss had been right, so she packed up her things and left for Paris 'with friends'. Ginny begged and insisted on towing along, and Ron had demanded to "take care of his younger sister" who had rolled her eyes, before pointing out that she was almost nineteen and could take care of herself perfectly well, thank you very much. Harry was also tagging after Ginny for completely different reasons, taking a one month break from being an Auror to experience the romance of Paris with Ginny. She tolerated his presence with fondness, but everyone knew that Ginny was just a bit wild, and wouldn't settle down with Harry for a while longer. In fact, Hermione worried a little about the pair – she had a sinking feeling when she saw the cold glitter in Ginny's eyes when she mentioned Paris that she wasn't about to stay at the Hotel with Harry and her chaperone for much of her visit.
Paris was nice, the pleasant chatter of French transforming via a language charm, allowing them to understand the locals quite well.
They had decided to celebrate their first night together in France in a beautiful restaurant that sparkled like champagne, where the food was beyond comparison. Hermione felt the sultry atmosphere wash over her, pushing back the tide of fears, work and the memories of some of the darker 'Mysteries' that she had encountered in her year at the Ministry. During their meal, a beautiful blonde woman entered the restaurant with a doting young man, heralded by the clatter of four metal forks hitting four separate plates from Hermione's table.
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Stay away from me tonight,
I've made other plans and you'll just be distracting me
...In a good way
Fleur Delacour had decided to grace her favourite restaurant that particular night, in the company of a handsome young man named Alan. He was nice, clean shaven and attentive, but lacking flavour. He opened the door for her, admiring the white curve of her back in her long, deep-red dress. She smiled back at him, nodding once.
- Merci
She had loved the desserts served at this particular restaurant since she had been a little girl, and was a regular patron as an adult. As they entered, a sharp clang rang out from the far corner of the restaurant. She turned her head and saw an unexpected sight staring back at her – ah! It had been such a long time since she had seen the so-called Golden Trio, and a young red headed woman accompanying them. Such a long time. She caught a glimpse of the intelligent eyes of Hermione Granger, a slightly perturbed expression on her face for a fleeting second, before she turned back to Alan. How curious.
During her meal she could feel their eyes linger at the nape of her neck, a most exasperating sensation. Catching her thought, she turned and looked at the foursome over her shoulder. They were, for the most part, unabashedly staring at her, the two red-heads in particular. Even Harry Potter himself was not immune, it seemed, as he darted from her to his – girlfriend?
Hermione Granger, however, had a waspish expression on her face and seemed to be on the verge of slapping her companions. Fleur's interest piqued, and she stood, making her way over to their table. Ronald Weasley's face turned dangerous shade of purple, and the red-headed girl who appeared to be related to him was close to a spontaneous combustion. Harry Potter was drowning himself in his soup. Hermione, however, looked straight at Fleur, a sliver of irritation marring her polite smile. Fleur smiled dangerously, tipping her head to one side subconsciously evaluating the now prettier, more substantial brunette.
- Ow good it iz to see old acquaintances, non?
Ron almost choked, and Ginny nodded her head up and down with a bemused half-smile. Harry muttered something unintelligible into his plate.
- Ah, of course, Fleur. Ginny and Ron were just talking about how it was so strange to see you again, right? We didn't know you lived around here - Fleur.
Ginny continued to nod, smiling generously. Fleur hid a smile. Judging the situation, she made an offer she didn't think would be refused.
- Ah, oui. You are on an 'oliday, non? Perhaps you would like to come and see my 'ome while you are 'ere?
- Oh, no...we would hate to trouble you, right everyone?
- Non, non – it would be absolutely no trouble at all. It would be my pleasure.
Ron nodded enthusiastically, " Yeah Hermione – hear that? No trouble at all. S'great idea. Bloody brilliant. Yeah."
Hermione's face turned slightly pink, and she seemed close to strangling her friends. Fleur gave Hermione an arch smile as Harry scribbled down her address the Muggle way, with a pen. Hermione's eyes narrowed, but Fleur simply smiled sexily back. Before she left, she
- I will see you later, zen, 'Ermione?
Hermione flushed pink, lost for words as her friends all turned to stare between her and Fleur as she linked arms with Alan and left with a small wave. She smiled secretly to herself as the cool night breeze washed over her, thinking only 'Oui – she is mine.'
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She doesn't know
That I love her
Yes I love her
Hermione released a scream of rage into her pillow. She could not get to sleep, having twisted and turned for a number of hours until she felt wrung out like a rag. It was not the usual night anxieties she had experienced from work; it was worse. Ten thousand times worse. It had been a terrible idea to take Ginny to Paris of all the places in the world. Since the second week of her 'holiday' she had not been able to get a moment's sleep, knowing that a certain red-haired Ginny Weasley was being 'entertained' by Fleur Delacour at her place. It seemed absurd, ridiculous, and yet somehow deeply unsurprising.
She would arrive home in the cold half-light of morning, sometimes shockingly underdressed, yawning openly and disturbingly pleased with herself. It should have been illegal or something. Ron was sulky, and Harry was simply pathetic. They stayed up together drinking firewhisky and muttering about women together, until Ginny came back to the hotel every morning. She made no excuses, and no-one asked any questions. But she made it quite clear what was going on.
Hermione respected Ginny's privacy, and lost sleep in private for two weeks.
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See me down so you get down
No you've got me all wrong
I just want to kiss your lips
And you kiss back
Something suspicious was going on. She could feel it. A tiny Sneakoscope in the corner of Hermione's mind was wailing in alarm. And it was something to do with Ginny – some detail was not quite correct about this situation. It was Ginny's second last night in Paris, and she had not asked to stay longer, or anything. That was the first strange thing.
If Ginny was truly so enamoured with Fleur, she could easily ask to remain in Paris. She would not be following Harry back to London with Ron. If it was a fling, that would be even worse. Not so much the fling (That happened all the time, even Harry was pathetically used to it, and had started dating girls whenever they were 'spending time apart'), but Fleur Delacour. Hermione didn't trust Fleur, and was starting to honestly wonder whether Ginny was all there in Fleur's case. Hermione couldn't quite place her finger completely on her suspicions.
She thought about it for hours, before making up her mind. Ginny had said that Fleur was holding a party at her house that night. Hermione asked if she could accompany her. She didn't want to have to follow her friend in Harry's invisibility cloak. Surprisingly, Ginny gave her a casual grin, stretching out as she said 'Sure'. Hermione felt relieved, at least until Ginny continued, "But you have to dress up properly!" with a wide cat smile. Hermione's heart sank.
Five hours, eighteen sets of clothes, a bucket of hair product and no shame later, they were ready. Ginny was ready to party. Hermione was ready to disappear into the back corner of the Department of Mysteries, never to be found again. Ginny was wearing a ridiculously miniscule black miniskirt, long black leather boots and a cute pink singlet. Her hair was in a loose braid and the five inch heels packed a lot of punch, height-wise.
Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and stared. Her hair brushed her shoulders in small soft curls, which was nice for once, but the rest of the ensemble wasn't quite so pleasing. The strapless cerulean lace singlet top she wore was more of a frame for her décolletage than a covering, and she could barely walk in her shiny black leather pants and five-inch heels (Ginny had convinced her that they weren't so bad, if she was wearing them too).
"No wands, unfortunately!" said Ginny, smiling waving around conspicuously empty hands.
"What?! Hermione exclaimed.
"Don't worry! Seriously. It's just that she has some muggles invited and who don't know that she's a witch and all!" Ginny explained rapidly.
She would kill Ginny when they returned. She muttered angrily to herself and kept plucking at her clothes, trying to keep then more firmly attached to her body. Ginny dragged her to the fireplace and held the pot of floo powder towards Hermione.
"You first," Ginny explained. Hermione took a handful and threw it down, repeating Fleur's address, before disappearing in a puff of smoke and flames.
Ginny waited until the smoke cleared and set the pot down. Counting to sixty just in case Hermione decided to apparate back Grabbing her handbag she changed laboriously out of the boots and into a pair of milder heels before walking out the door, where Alan waited for her, holding a single red rose. He was a sweet young man, she thought as they drove off to a nightclub downtown. Fleur had been right from the beginning. He was fun, attentive, and good for a fling. And as Fleur had so generously provided her with Alan for her delicious vacation, it was only fair to return the favour. Naturally.
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Make a move on me baby
I can't be the one who's always taking chances
She should have known the second Ginny handed her the floo powder. What on earth was the point of depriving her of a wand if she was going to appear in a fireplace in a conflagration of green flames anyway?
Fleur watched her from the cream coloured sofa. Hermione began to sweat, feeling Fleur's eyes linger speculatively on Hermione.
"Gin – Ginny said there was a party here, and she should be – any moment – I should leave – " Hermione began, face flushing as she caught a glimpse of Fleur's clothes and remembering her own state of dress. Perhaps Ginny had been wrong, and Fleur had been expecting only Ginny. No. This had the flavour of a trap. She was going to kill Ginny when...if..she got back. Fleur was dressed in a dark red corset, and her hair was straight and perfect, like white gold. She looked positively delighted to see Hermione. She smiled, advancing on Hermione, her long red skirt sashaying as she moved. Hermione's eyes darted to the fireplace. No floo powder.
- 'Ermione.
Fleur came forward and kissed the younger woman directly on the lips, leaving Hermione warm and confused, and slightly scared. She pulled away, unsure of what to do, tempted to move forward while her mind screamed at her to find a way out.
- But - I thought -
- No doubt you zink zat Ginny and I are together?
- Well...yes...
- Of course you do. Zat was my intent, of course, ma cherie.
- But why?
- It iz not 'er zat I desire, but you, 'Ermione. I asked 'er to arrange for you to meet me, in return for introducing 'er to a lover.
- What if I don't want to - you know - want to...
Hermione breathed, searching for a good reason not to as she stared into the soft amber flames of Fleur's eyes.
- But you do, 'Ermione. If it would make you feel better zen I could simply tell you zat you 'ave no choice, zat I 'ave locked my doors and you are so obviously 'elpless without your wand. And perhaps I 'ave. But I know zat you will come to me of your own free will-I can see it already in your eyes, your face, your body. Ze desire. I would love you, ma cherie.
Hermione could feel her cheeks burning, as Fleur bent down and kissed her again, more tenderly this time, and Hermione blushed harder as she felt the soft, silky tongue invading her mouth. This time she leaned in cautiously, tentatively, feeling a well of heat inside of her. Hermione could her stomach fluttering as Fleur took her hand and led her into her bedroom, watching mesmerised as her silky blonde hair swayed like a pendulum, into the darkness which caressed them both.
In a moment as fleeting as a moth, she knew she was lost.
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She doesn't know
That I love her
Yes I love her
Hermione fell backwards onto the bed, sheets rustling as Fleur moved over her, sealing their lips together. A passionate swirling of tongues as Hermione slid out of her top, Fleur helping to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts. Hermione moaned as Fleur's stiff corset slid over her bared skin, enjoying the roughness of the material. Fleur's lips moved lower, nipping at Hermione's collar before sliding down over her breast, teasing her nipple mercilessly with her tongue.
It was harder to remove her leather pants, which seemed to have melded themselves to her legs, but after a long session of shifting and moaning they managed to get her free. Hermione blushed, comparing her near-nudity to Fleur's state of dress. A moment later all awareness slipped away in a tide of arousal as Fleur began to kiss her way up Hermione's inner thighs, alternating momentarily between each leg, brushing the other with her fingers.
Hermione felt a little ridiculous in just her panties and five-inch black heels, but as she reached down to remove her shoes, Fleur shook her head non, brushing her hand away. Hermione complied submissively as Fleur continued her ministrations, smiling to herself. Sitting up a little, Fleur leaned over her and kissed her properly on the mouth, nipping her bottom lip as her elegant fingers slid Hermione's panties down her legs, forcing the other girl to sit up in order to get free of them. Completely exposed, Hermione felt a shiver of nervous desire up through her spine. She buried herself in Fleur's neck, smelling Fleur's soft, delicious perfume. Fleur kissed her again lightly, before getting up, standing next to the bed in which Hermione sat in only her heels.
Moving over to her dressing table, she returned with a length of black ribbon.
- Lay down, ma cherie.
Hermione complied, her eyes widening slightly as Fleur slid the ribbon around her wrists before fixing the ribbon to the headboard, so that Hermione was positioned lying down with her hands above her head. Hermione tugged a little, the length of ribbon surprisingly strong. She didn't think that she could manoeuvre herself much, even had she wanted to. Not that she did, as Fleur smiled down at her, unclasping the corset slowly, before stepping out of her skirt and panties. In the golden honey glow of the lights she looked like a goddess.
She climbed back onto the bed, her mouth hovering over Hermione's breasts. Hermione arched upwards, wanting contact. Enticed by her reaction, Fleur placed a serious of butterfly kisses in Hermione's breasts and stomach, before teasing her navel with a hot, wet tongue, slowly sliding her tongue lower.
When she came to the pearl nestled within Hermione's folds, Hermione gasped, arching from the bed. A moment later she was writhing, moaning as Fleur moved two fingers inside her, as her tongue played ceaselessly with her clitoris.
"Please, ahh," Hermione moaned, as Fleur inserted a third finger and began to rub the sensitive spot of muscle inside Hermione. A moment later the other girl orgasmed, tugging on her bonds with a satisfied 'Ah!'. Fleur withdrew her fingers and placed them to Hermione's lips. Hermione took them into the warm cavern of her mouth and Fleur shivered, as she loved having her fingers sucked on.
Later she untied Hermione, who returned the favour and made her way down Fleur, pleasuring her until the early morning hours, when they slid beneath the covers, warm bodies embracing in sleep.
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Leave us alone
Leave us alone
Leave us alone your friends and my friends
Leave us alone
Leave us alone your friends and my friends
Should go far away
"Bye!" Hermione slammed the phone down and giggled to herself. She could just imagine the shock on Ron's face when he received the news. Harry and Ginny would soon follow, but for now she simply wanted to spend every waking moment with her lover. Humming to herself, she dived back under the warm covers, snuggling up to Fleur.
Three months later, the compromise was that each week's Friday belonged to Fleur, and Saturday to Hermione. Secretly, Hermione preferred Fridays, devoted entirely to her rapturous, demanding lover. The requests she made always stalked the border of a darker sexual activity.
- Be my pet, today, 'Ermione. And I shall be your Mistress, oui?
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione replied simply, smiling to herself. They had played this game before. They lay in bed together until noon, by which point further food deprivation due to laziness was no longer sustainable. Hermione made lunch, as it was Fleur's day, whilst the other woman wandered around in the nude, which was faintly distracting and caused the casualty of one of the eggs which had been meant to be in Hermione's omelette. In the afternoon, Fleur asked Hermione to buy a carton of ice-cream from the store. Hermione complied happily, whilst Fleur contemplated her plans for the day.
When she returned the game began in earnest, Fleur whispering to Hermione her one definite command for the day.
- Do not orgasm unless I zay so, pet.
She smiled at Hermione's blushing, breathless nod. Fleur's warm tongue slid over the ridge of Hermione's ear, sending a soft shudder of pleasure through the other girl. Taking out her wand, she tapped in to her lips a couple of times as she circled Hermione, who remained completely still. Fleur wondered for a moment if it might be cruel, before pointing her wand at Hermione.
"Vosatia!" She smiled as a visible shiver moved through Hermione, and she began to moan deliciously. The spell was pure pleasure.
Hermione's nerves felt inflamed as ripples of pleasure passed though her body. Her body arched as if struck by a whip, her hands grappling for some handhold. She couldn't help but moan as Fleur moved in front of her and kissed her deeply, slowly, slender, skilful hands fluttering over her body, wandering, the slightest touch drawing a mewl of pleasure from her 'pet'. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sweet scent of vanilla that clung to Fleur's skin, fighting her rapid descent into pure need.
"Unfair!" Hermione gasped, voice rasping as Fleur's fingers began to tease the delicate nub between her legs, and Hermione moaned loudly, breathing heavily. Fleur chuckled.
- Unfair, ma petite? Oh, non, non. Zis would be unfair.
Fleur smiled wickedly as she pushed Hermione down and spread her legs apart with her hands. Hermione could barely formulate a plea before Fleur's lips descended under her, and Hermione's world exploded into a rush of heat coursing its way through her body, unbearable heat, the pleasure searing into her flesh while a half-remembered command clung to the edges of her consciousness. She couldn't take it for a second longer, and yet that second seemed to stretch out into infinity, and the blessed heat was receding. Hermione growled, clutching at it, wanting orgasm desperately. Excruciatingly slowly, it died down, and amazingly, she had not disobeyed her command, although her senses were still aflame with pleasure. She blinked. Strange, normally…
- Tres bien! Ah, 'Ermione, zis particular spell does not allow you to orgasm unless I lift it, and it zeems to work perfectly!
- Oh...
Hermione wasn't sure whether to celebrate or to despair. On one hand she would obey the command. On the other, the constant pleasure was driving her insane, with no release in sight. Definitely despair.
Fleur wanted to go out for dinner, in the restaurant that they had first met again. It was a curious kind of torture, for Hermione every sensation seemed to be magnified and directly, inescapably arousing. Fleur enjoyed watching her struggle to contain her arousal, squirming in her seat as she ate dinner, only making it worse. At the end, Hermione began to order dessert, knowing that Fleur loved the dessert from this restaurant in particular, but Fleur stopped her, reminder her that they had some ice-cream at home.
It was getting late by the time they arrived back and Hermione was an inch away from a complete insanity. Fleur pushed her into the bedroom and told her to strip, before returning sheathed only in her luminous skin, with the ice-cream, spoon and a dark smile.
Hermione didn't mind being hand-fed double chocolate ice-cream, but her mind was still preoccupied with the throbbing, pressing, crushing need for friction, for release. And yet Fleur was still not finished, and Hermione shivered as she felt a cold curl of ice-cream against her breast. It began melting immediately. The combination of the chilly ice-cream and Fleur's warm tongue lapping it up was unbelievable, the sensation overwhelming Hermione who pressed up hard against Fleur.
Fleur continued to paint Hermione's body with ice-cream and lick it off at an agonizingly leisurely pace. She checked the clock next to the bed, before taking a large scoop of ice-cream and inserting it, spoon and all, into the other girl's writhing body. Hermione gasped, almost sitting up. Fleur pushed her back down and removed the spoon, licking it before positioning herself over Hermione so that they could both taste and be tasted simultaneously.
Hermione convulsed under the ministrations of Fleur's tongue, sucking and licking with all the pent-up desperation that she was feeling. Fleur enjoyed the taste of Hermione intermingled with chocolate ice-cream, a strangely delicious and addictive combination. As soon as she felt herself reaching the edge, she grabbed her wand and moaned 'Finite Incantatum'. They orgasmed almost simultaneously, Hermione receiving the most exquisite flush of pleasure that she had ever experienced in her entire life.
They lay panting together, bathed in the aftermath of complete satiation.
"That was the best thing I've ever felt in my entire life. That seemed more like my day than yours!" Hermione giggled weakly. Fleur smiled and motioned at the time. Ten past twelve. They giggled and kissed gently, tenderly.
------------
She doesn't know
That I love her
Yes I love her
The stars shimmered and coalesced like dragon scales. They swam through the tears in her eyes, until she brushed them away. She felt full, her heart overflowing with happiness, surprise, love.
- You'll come back with me? To London?
Fleur used her thumb to wipe away a tear meandering down Hermione's cheek, suddenly worried.
- Of course, 'Ermione. Tu connais je'taime.
- I thought - I wasn't sure -
- I would never leave you.
Hermione smiled anxiously through her tears. Looking out into the horizon she saw the ghost of London hovering just beyond the skyline. Fleur brushed a stray curl of hair out of her eyes.
- You'll - you'll have to meet my parents then, and Ron and Harry, and everyone, and they'll make you come to Thanksgiving, naturally, and you'll have to live with me, or otherwise, no, yes, no I mean -
Fleur pressed a finger to Hermione's lips to hush her. She fell silent, staring at Fleur, eyes full. Fleur leaned down and kissed her for a long moment.
- It iz alright, 'Ermione. Je t'aime, m'amour.
- Je'taime aussi
She whispered back in the darkness, burying her face in Fleur's neck, filled with some unnameable emotion.
She doesn't know
I love her
Yes I love her
Fin
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Kill me now! Do I suck or what? Man I feel embarrassed just to read that. I still hope you don't think it's too bad. Why so many random, random intrigues and machinations? NO IDEA. XP. Uhuh. The names and spell/s are complete BS by the way. No elegant explanation, not hidden meaning. Please no flames, just CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Runs to a corner and hides face in hands.
I sincerely apologise to all of you for my crap French and complete lack of discrimination between gendering of words. Feel free to mention any particulars so I can do better next time !
- Feymist.