"you can speak indonesian? seriously? wow."
Ooc: Yep. Is it surprising, anon?
Harry looked at Blaise with a dark, sultry storm in his now forest-green eyes. “Hello, Zabini. Long time no…see.” he gave a pointed look to the other boy’s crotch, smirking.
Blaise snorted but returned the smirk, swiping his tongue briefly over his lower lips. ‘Like what you see, Potter?’ He went closer, reaching out for his lower half, tracing the outline of the growing bulge inside Harry’s pants with his finger. He flicked over it a bit and chuckled when it jerked. He leant down towards Harry’s ear and whispered, ‘I miss this.’ He rubbed his palm over his concealed erection for a while then let go.
He was hit by the mixture of smell that he should have had to smell as he strolled the night in Paris, where the reeking of stench of prespiration, alcohol and the overwhelming scent of cigarettes was overshadowed by the flowery aroma of… something familiar and intoxicating. It was the smell of roses, old books and… The blaring room was not a place where he would usually spend his night, but for once, he needed a change. He needed a change of atmosphere, of view, of a place that he would put a different kind of effort to. An effort that is mainly in the sexual field. And he was, out of all things, getting hornier and hornier by the second as he went nearer and nearer the centre of the crowd. He had taken a liking to this club already.
As he danced a bit with the pounding music, trying to mingle with the sweaty bodies around him, he decided that he was too sexually frustrated to even care to dance. So he moved through to the crowd. It was unfortunate - or fortunate depending who was seeing it - that Blaise accidentally walked to where a certain heroic bookworm was sitting. He blinked as the intoxicating strengthened, as if suddenly invading his nose. He then looked at her with wonder, barely understanding, or maybe still in denial, of what this would have meant.
He walked up to her and casually called, ‘Pleasure to see you, Granger.’ He hadn’t realised that his words would be even truer…. soon enough.
She smelled him before she saw him. Perhaps it was amplified by the amortentia, but her lips parted and she almost groaned. Manly, but not musky, and incredibly arousing. When she heard the slick, low rumble, she spun, feeling her pulse quicken. What was in this drink? Lavender had ordered it, but it seemed to make everything that was even slightly sensual incredibly seductive. Unfortunately, she was certain she looked far from appealing, eyes wide as she stammered at the beautiful man that had approached her.
“Oh, Zabini, I - what are you - how did you get here? It’s…I didn’t expect…” Her voice trailed off and panicking, she took another swig of her drink, trying to close her eyes and keep out visions of the way his adam’s apple protruded or the flash of his bright white teeth. When she’d finished her drink, she pushed it back to the bartender and signaled for another. Boy, that love potion was…strong stuff. ”You look handsome,” she blurted, and she looked visibly stunned by her words. What had come over her? It wasn’t a lie, but she certainly wouldn’t have stated so if she wasn’t…well, completely mental.
He saw her staring at him looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Her dark hazel eyes were wide, her plump, red lips agape- he caught himself. He listened to himself, looked away from her and groaned internally. Since when did he have these kinds of thoughts about Granger? He was being insane. His eyes averted themselves towards her person again when he heard her soft stutter. Was it only him, or did he hear her voice tremble? It almost sounded like a moan- He closed his eyes. This is mental. Since when did her voice make him feel so aroused?
When he heard her say her last comment, he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. ‘Starting with the compliments already, are we, Granger?’ he said as he came closer. Only when he walked closer to her did he realsie that she was with a friend. He found her familiar.
Oh, it was the Brown girl the Weasel was sucking faces with back in Hogwarts. He nodded at her briefly in acknowledgement and returned his attention towards Granger. ‘So what is a tame girl like you doing here?’
Possesed: hermionegrangwhore: darkly-erotic: He couldn’t think. His mind was…
He couldn’t think. His mind was hazy. Fuck. What was in that bloody drink? Malfoy gave him that glass, right? It wasn’t spiked or… But it doesn’t feel like it was spiked. He felt sexually aroused, his mind was swimming in desire, his body tingling…
Hermione stilled when he caught her and she felt a sensation run through her that she could notice was running though him too. “I-I-I,” she tried to say something after he let her go. Then she asked him, “T-Touch me again please?”
It took him a long while to register what she was saying. Nonetheless, he asked her again, ‘W-What did you just say?’ The words from her mouth sounded so erotic in his ear. He wanted to hear them. Hear them a thousand times as he felt the delicious tingles they gave him. Yes, he reminded himself time and time again that this was Granger he wanted this from - she showed no sign of interest in him, let alone want to touch him, or even better, sleep with him. But at that moment, he didn’t care. He gritted his teeth when he realised he was stuttering and licked his lips.
He couldn’t think. His mind was hazy. Fuck. What was in that bloody drink? Malfoy gave him that glass, right? It wasn’t spiked or… But it doesn’t feel like it was spiked. He felt sexually aroused, his mind was swimming in desire, his body tingling deliciously and he couldn’t hold on to much sanity any longer. Fuck. It was an aphrodisiac. How bloody strong was the dose? That Malfoy prat. He knew he was going to get him back from that last bet he won. Screw him. He would have to plan his downfall later, but right now, all he can think of was the resonating sensation he felt every time he touches something. He couldn’t think properly. Fuck
The worst thing is, nobody was fucking here to fucking help him get out. Or get him to his dorm.
Nobody.
He thought, until he saw a figure on the top of the common room’s couch.
He tried to steady himself and slowly walked to the couch. He couldn’t believe that, out of all people, he was to meet Hermione Granger on the couch. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Why was she there?
‘Gr-Granger?’
Hermione was feeling rather strange after the drink Malfoy had given her, and she could only guess that there was something in there. What exactly that was she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was laying right there with her too, but for some reason he just slipped away and left her alone. Then for some reason she found herself touching the skin of her neck, feeling how smooth it was and how wonderful the touch was.
Her eyes drooped slightly as she let her lips part and a breath fall from her lips. Then the door shot open and she shot up quickly and blinked at the figure in her door. “O-Oh, Zabini,” she stuttered, “I…Malfoy. He, he was just here. A-And…. I should go.” She got up and began walking towards him and the door, that action making the sensations in her body more overwhelming and she tripped over herself a little, but managed to catch herself.
‘That bloody fuck,’ he muttered darkly. He wasn’t exactly looking for Malfoy at the moment. He could have, and probably it would be better for him to, since he could force him to give him the antidote. But then he wouldn’t be able to kill him, what’s with him feeling these erotic things. He looked at her hazy form and gave a small nod. ‘You should go,’ he repeated her, but when he saw falling halfway, he ran to her on instinct and grabbed her arms. Though he now realised that she wasn’t about to fall. And the worst part was he had to keep himself from making a noise when he felt the softness of her skin amplified on his. The bulge in his pants twitched and he let go of her as soon as he realised what had happened.
After the war, it seemed childish to be spending nights in short dresses and clubs. Shouldn’t she be…practicing her dueling or non-verbal magic? It was just…wrong how easily they had fallen back into their age, finding excuses to wear high heels or purchase that extra bottle of Quintin Black on the weekends. Yet no matter how she tried to find issue with it, here she was, tugging down the hem of her dark blue dress that was clinging to her thighs and wobbling already. Ginny had made her…something, and it had tasted so lovely, she’d forgotten it was meant to get her drunk. Now, she would have regretted swallowing it down had she not loved the warm sensation spreading from her stomach.
“Come on, Hermione!” Lavender called, laughing and pulling her through the crowd, where Hermione was immediately assaulted with whiffs of freshly mown grass and new parchment. ”Wait…” Hermione stumbled, gripping Lavender’s arm and pulling her back, “this…is there…?”
Lavender rolled her eyes, settling in her spot. ”Yes, Amortentia.” A wicked gleam captivated her face, and she leaned closer. ”They put it in the drinks. Not too much, though, and I think they’d added some… aphrodisiac to it. That’s the right word, yeah? Makes you fall in lust instead of infatuation.” Her eyes twinkled. ”Works wonders.”
Gaping, Hermione was about to protest that Amortentia should not be served so casually and certainly never mixed with anything, when Lavender huffed and threw up her arms. ”Hermione! Don’t listen to yourself! We’re young, we’re hot,” at this, she shimmied her hips, “and I don’t know about you, but I am trying to get lucky tonight. And no,” she said, holding up a hand before Hermione could speak, “they don’t put Felix Felicis in their drinks to. You’ve got to accomplish that on your own.”
After a moment, Hermione broke into a grin, shaking her head. ”So you’re in then?” Lavender squealed, squeezing Hermione’s hand excitedly. ”Yes, yes, I’m in,” Hermione acquiesced, and Lavender bounced on her toes, tugging Hermione slowly through the crowd toward the bar. Once there, Lavender managed to flag down the bartender (likely due to her overwhelming cleavage), and she turned to Hermione. ”What’ll you have, then?”
Stunned, Hermione glanced around for a menu. Naturally, there was none. ”Oh, I - I don’t know,” she stammered.
He was hit by the mixture of smell that he should have had to smell as he strolled the night in Paris, where the reeking of stench of prespiration, alcohol and the overwhelming scent of cigarettes was overshadowed by the flowery aroma of… something familiar and intoxicating. It was the smell of roses, old books and… The blaring room was not a place where he would usually spend his night, but for once, he needed a change. He needed a change of atmosphere, of view, of a place that he would put a different kind of effort to. An effort that is mainly in the sexual field. And he was, out of all things, getting hornier and hornier by the second as he went nearer and nearer the centre of the crowd. He had taken a liking to this club already.
As he danced a bit with the pounding music, trying to mingle with the sweaty bodies around him, he decided that he was too sexually frustrated to even care to dance. So he moved through to the crowd. It was unfortunate - or fortunate depending who was seeing it - that Blaise accidentally walked to where a certain heroic bookworm was sitting. He blinked as the intoxicating strengthened, as if suddenly invading his nose. He then looked at her with wonder, barely understanding, or maybe still in denial, of what this would have meant.
He walked up to her and casually called, ‘Pleasure to see you, Granger.’ He hadn’t realised that his words would be even truer…. soon enough.
Blaise is gettin’ a boner y’all. Just saying
Hermione self smut…threesome with Blaise
Great idea. But first, Ay am in da middle of replying to your smutty smut. Wait for me. ;)
He couldn’t think. His mind was hazy. Fuck. What was in that bloody drink? Malfoy gave him that glass, right? It wasn’t spiked or… But it doesn’t feel like it was spiked. He felt sexually aroused, his mind was swimming in desire, his body tingling deliciously and he couldn’t hold on to much sanity any longer. Fuck. It was an aphrodisiac. How bloody strong was the dose? That Malfoy prat. He knew he was going to get him back from that last bet he won. Screw him. He would have to plan his downfall later, but right now, all he can think of was the resonating sensation he felt every time he touches something. He couldn’t think properly. Fuck
The worst thing is, nobody was fucking here to fucking help him get out. Or get him to his dorm.
Nobody.
He thought, until he saw a figure on the top of the common room’s couch.
He tried to steady himself and slowly walked to the couch. He couldn’t believe that, out of all people, he was to meet Hermione Granger on the couch. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Why was she there?
‘Gr-Granger?’