Fic: About Last Night (1/?) *NC17*
Title: About Last Night
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Hermione/Blaise/Draco
Summary: A night out plus desire and lust mixed with unrequited love and a couple of sneaky Slytherins equals numerous changes in the relationship between Blaise, Hermione and Draco
A/N: Okay, I had to write a cliché! I’ve been wanting to write this idea for a while and finally gave in *grins* But, hey, it’s fun and silly and will hopefully be a bit sexy so forgive me?
To the fans of D/Hr/B, big hugs! And a woo hoo because sexy_sensual and blaise_hermione now have over 50 members!
ABOUT LAST NIGHT (1/?)
Merlin, she was never drinking again.
That was the first thought that penetrated the hazy cloud around Hermione Granger’s mind as she slowly woke up. She snuggled under the covers, reluctant to open her eyes. It was warm and she felt comfortable, still sleepy. Plus there was the headache that was already forming in the back of her mind and the fact that she was aching all over. Her lips curved into a slight frown as she realized she was hurting in places that most decidedly should not have been affected by getting pissed at the club.
About the same time she became aware of the fact that her body felt as if she had been shagged senseless, she felt the arm around her waist, the body pressed behind hers. The hard definitely male body holding her tightly. God, she did not get drunk and have sex with some random guy. Please let this be a nightmare. She kept her eyes tightly closed, hoping that would prevent the reality of the situation from sinking in. She tried to remember what had happened.
The conference in Las Vegas, of all places. Her boss had been forced to attend, his family owning several Muggle companies as well as interests in the wizarding community. The conference catered to both, a new line of accessories for mediwitches and instruments for Muggle hospitals. Normally, Blaise Zabini would leave such matters to one of many employees but he had been working on several acquisitions lately and had welcomed a bit of a working vacation. As his personal assistant, she had accompanied him.
Merlin, if he found out about this she’d never hear the end of it! The raven-haired Slytherin had surprisingly become a good friend when they’d been in their Seventh year at Hogwarts. They’d been partners in several classes, and she had gotten to know the charming but somewhat quiet wizard. After graduation, she’d accepted a job working as his assistant, the opportunity for travel and the large salary too tempting to refuse. She had taken correspondence classes from a wizarding university and had earned her joint degree in finance and charms two years ago. Instead of leaving Blaise, she had remained, finding the job fascinating and challenging and enjoying working with the man that had become her best friend.
Blaise was extremely good-looking and charming and intelligent, able to successfully command the attention of everyone during a meeting or of simply fading into the background when he wanted a moment of solitude or quiet. He was also a bit of a flirt to every woman except her, treating her like a younger sister even though she tended to take care of him. She had memorized the cute little notes to send with flowers to his numerous dates, the dark wizard never dating anyone more than once. She often teased him about his inability to commit to even a second date, referring to most of his witches as the flavor of the week. Her bitterness regarding his habit of dating constantly had nothing at all to do with the infatuation she had developed for him during the last few years. Nope, not at all. Since her social life consisted of going out with Harry and Pansy or Ron and Luna or Ginny and Neville, she knew he’d probably find it incredibly amusing that she’d gone and shagged some stranger in some weird Muggle town.
Luckily, she had today off work. The conference was over the previous afternoon, Blaise deciding that they’d spend the remainder of the weekend having a real vacation with no work, though he had one last meeting scheduled that afternoon. That was why they’d been at that club last night, having joined a few of the others that they’d met at the conference for drinks and dancing. Hermione had actually dressed up for the occasion, knowing the other female attendees had been barely clad the entire week while she’d been wearing her customary trousers or knee-length skirts and baggy but comfortable shirts.
She’d felt rather dowdy the entire week, for once allowing her vanity to show through by choosing a dress that displayed her curvaceous figure without making her look too pudgy. It had been low cut and there had been a slit on the side that went to her upper thigh, showing off her long legs and full breasts. Her hair had been left down instead of being twisted into a loose bun or ponytail, the brown curls falling down her back and giving her a carefree and sexy look, though she tended to think it just made her look disheveled and messy. Hermione had been determined to enjoy the evening and just have fun.
Since graduation from Hogwarts six years before, she had been so busy with studying and working and making time for her friends that she hadn’t really just let go and relaxed. During any of the functions she had to attend with Blaise, she was always working and reminding him who everyone was, though he had a fantastic memory and rarely needed her assistance but he still insisted she be present.
When she protested, he’d smile that appealing smile and his indigo eyes would flash violet and she’d be unable to refuse. It had been that particular smile that had gotten her into this current mess. She’d wanted to remain at the hotel and owl her friends, but he’d smiled and informed her that it certainly wouldn’t be any fun wandering our some strange Muggle town without her there to interpret.
He had hinted that it could very well fall beneath her job description to make sure he interacted with the Muggles without making himself look stupid. Ha! As if Blaise Zabini, charismatic and captivating would ever have a reason to worry about looking foolish. She had relented, though, because the town was fascinating and she’d liked the idea of exploring it before returning home. She also found it, even after seven years, rather impossible to resist Blaise when he was at his most charming and had that determined gleam in his eyes.
Which was how she had ended up wearing a sexy dress that she normally wouldn’t have dared wear while drinking far too much and ending up in bed with some strange man who had a very hard body pressed against hers. Did she mention all the aching muscles that had not been used since her brief affair with Oliver Wood the summer after graduation? Hell, there were some aches indicating that she’d done things the previous night that she’d never done before and she couldn’t remember anything. With a soft groan, she realized that she was going to have to open her eyes if she planned to sneak out of here without any awkward moments.
Slowly, brown eyes opened, focusing on an expensive lamp beside the bed before looking at the clock. It was nearly ten, her eyes widening slightly as she realized this was the latest she had ever slept. The body behind her snuggled closer, an erection pressing against her bum as a hand possessively held her breast, breath on her neck as the man she was sleeping with continued to sleep. He had great hands, she thought before cursing herself for thinking about the feel of this stranger instead of figuring a way out of this mess. Blaise was probably worried about her, she realized, knowing that they had discussed meeting for lunch and doing some sightseeing.
Malfoy was probably enjoying this, she thought crossly, deliberately filling his best friend’s head with all sorts of horrible ideas regarding her whereabouts, the blond Slytherin still being the biggest pain in her arse. He was Blaise’s best friend, though, so they attempted to tolerate one another and usually were content with verbal abuse instead of hexing. In most areas of her life, she was a mature and serious woman of twenty-four. However, mere moments in the presence of that arrogant, smug, condescending, rude, sexy blond bastard and she’d find her maturity slipping away as they began to argue about the stupidest subjects and usually end up name calling and glaring like children.
Blaise found it all terribly amusing and loved to invite Malfoy to sit with them at various functions or join them while traveling, the blond rarely refusing since he didn’t seem to have anything better to do than make her life miserable. That was definitely one of the few negatives of working for Blaise, having to constantly, or so it seemed, be around Malfoy since he was her boss’s best friend.
It was fortunate that she rather enjoyed their verbal sparring, enjoying the times she managed to best him and he had to admit defeat with a snarl before sulking or suggesting that Blaise fire her and hire someone less opinionated and intelligent. She and Blaise had their own arguments throughout the years but they were usually simple debates and one or the other would smile at the end and acknowledge that the other was right. Malfoy, however, would never admit she was right nor had she ever admitted he might infrequently on a very rare occasion be correct.
When she had left her room the previous night, Malfoy and Blaise had been lounging in the sitting room of the large suite. She remembered because there had been the moment of excitement at seeing that Draco had joined them unexpectedly mixed with the annoyance that her night out would be most likely be ruined by the egotistical prat. Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to concentrate on remembering what had happened. She’d greeted her boss and his friend, remembering Blaise gaping at her before he’d quickly stood up and given her his customary ‘Hermione reserved’ smile, as she liked to think of it. A charming but platonic showing of perfect white teeth that never failed to make her feel special since she had never once witnessed him smiling that particular smile at anyone else.
Malfoy had glared at her, she recalled, suggesting she might want to wear a robe or something to avoid catching a cold before flashing his Hermione reserved sneer. The one that said ‘I’m better than you are, you frumpy Muggleborn, and you should be thrilled that I am actually allowing you to be seen in my presence’ and made her want to slap it right off his thin lips. It was very unfair that Malfoy was not only a Pureblood from a noble wizarding family and quite wealthy, he also had to be handsome and, though she’d suffer through curses before admitting it, somewhat sexy.
His features were pointy and sharp, which should have made him look like a rodent, a slight smile crossing her face since he still loathed being called Ferret so it had become her own personal nickname for the smug and arrogant wizard. But, instead of resembling a rat, he managed to make a long, pointy nose and high cheekbones and thin lips, okay so the bottom lip was plump and full, look distinguished and attractive.
He was an average height, not much taller than her, but he carried himself with a self-assurance and confidence that caused him to seem superior. He was slender and she knew from catching him wandering around Blaise’s flat without his shirt that he was muscular and had great shoulders and could very well advertise the meaning of the word ‘six pack’. Blaise was taller than Draco, but the raven-haired wizard was lanky and caused one to always encourage him to eat more because he was too skinny. It was rather infuriating that he could eat as much as he did, having a fondness for Muggle sweets even, and still have a slim and almost willowy frame. When she ate sweets, they went directly to her hips or tummy.
Blaise moved with a grace and elegance that was unusual for one so tall, while Malfoy had this habit of moving in a predatory way, as if he were stalking you and could very well pounce at any moment. Needless to say, Hermione was the recipient of many an envious stare whenever she was with both of the wizard, finding it rather amusing and somewhat disappointing since one of them considered her a sisterly best friend and the other considered her an engaging adversary. The brunette witch made a face as she realized that now was not the time to lazily dose in bed and think about the two most prominent men in her life, spending more time with Blaise and even Malfoy than she did with Ron and Harry.
After they had left their room, they’d joined some other attendees and gone to some loud Muggle club. She did not drink alcohol but had decided to be a bit daring after Malfoy dared her to trying something reckless, ordering her a drink called a Paradise Peach, his pale gray eyes challenging her to drink the strange concoction. After that, she’d had several other fruity drinks that didn’t taste very alcoholic at all. There had been some guy that had asked her to dance, young but rather cute with brightly colored blue hair. She had accepted, she recalled, though the actual dance wasn’t coming to her hazy mind.
Hands on her body, lips on her neck, breath in her ear, whispers of leaving the loud club and going somewhere private. Laughing and flirting and kissing, touching and tasting, pleasure, so much pleasure, happiness and contentment, bold and daring behavior, splashing in a fountain. Flying. There had definitely been flying. Hermione grimaced as the images fluttered in random order, never showing the man that was in bed with her. She’d enjoyed it, though. She knew that even if she couldn’t remember it.
She knew she was procrastinating, putting off the awkward moment of ‘hey, I have no idea who you are even though we obviously shagged several times and in a variety of ways judging by how sore my body is today but I really need to go so let’s just chalk this up to having too much to drink’ and trying to sneak away with at least a little dignity intact. Oh God, her eyes suddenly opened as she had a horrid thought. What if she had ended up in bed with one of the old wizards that had been drinking so much and had the nerve to pinch her bum the previous day?
Surely even intoxicated she would have enough sense to find someone she was somewhat attracted to. After all, she had had sex only a few times in her life and that had been during her relationship with Oliver Wood, a man she still considered a good friend. She did not sleep around and had never had a one night stand, had never even imagined having one, so she really hoped she had at least chosen someone somewhat intriguing.
When she opened her eyes that time, she slowly became aware of two things. One was the fact that she had jewelry on her finger. Hermione didn’t wear rings, believing they got in the way when she was writing and not liking the idea of constantly removing the ink from them. Yet, there on her finger appeared to be two rings. One was a lovely silver band with what appeared to be emeralds and, Merlin, those looked like diamonds. The other was also a very pretty silver band with a setting of rubies and sapphires, both rings looking as if they probably cost more than she made in several years.
The other thing she noticed was that the hand possessively holding her breast was still in place, the smooth palm indicating that her worries of shagging some old wizard were unfounded, which really made it impossible for there to be a hand with a rough palm resting possessively on her hip. Hermione decided that this was definitely some sort of twisted dream most likely caused by whatever Muggle alcohol she had enjoyed the previous evening.
Before she could relax from making that rather preposterous but ‘Merlin, please let it be true’ decision, she felt lips on her neck and a very prominent erection against her arse and heard an all too familiar voice whispering, "Morning, love."
Well, what do you think? Please let me know!
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Hermione/Blaise/Draco
Summary: A night out plus desire and lust mixed with unrequited love and a couple of sneaky Slytherins equals numerous changes in the relationship between Blaise, Hermione and Draco
A/N: Okay, I had to write a cliché! I’ve been wanting to write this idea for a while and finally gave in *grins* But, hey, it’s fun and silly and will hopefully be a bit sexy so forgive me?
To the fans of D/Hr/B, big hugs! And a woo hoo because sexy_sensual and blaise_hermione now have over 50 members!
ABOUT LAST NIGHT (1/?)
Merlin, she was never drinking again.
That was the first thought that penetrated the hazy cloud around Hermione Granger’s mind as she slowly woke up. She snuggled under the covers, reluctant to open her eyes. It was warm and she felt comfortable, still sleepy. Plus there was the headache that was already forming in the back of her mind and the fact that she was aching all over. Her lips curved into a slight frown as she realized she was hurting in places that most decidedly should not have been affected by getting pissed at the club.
About the same time she became aware of the fact that her body felt as if she had been shagged senseless, she felt the arm around her waist, the body pressed behind hers. The hard definitely male body holding her tightly. God, she did not get drunk and have sex with some random guy. Please let this be a nightmare. She kept her eyes tightly closed, hoping that would prevent the reality of the situation from sinking in. She tried to remember what had happened.
The conference in Las Vegas, of all places. Her boss had been forced to attend, his family owning several Muggle companies as well as interests in the wizarding community. The conference catered to both, a new line of accessories for mediwitches and instruments for Muggle hospitals. Normally, Blaise Zabini would leave such matters to one of many employees but he had been working on several acquisitions lately and had welcomed a bit of a working vacation. As his personal assistant, she had accompanied him.
Merlin, if he found out about this she’d never hear the end of it! The raven-haired Slytherin had surprisingly become a good friend when they’d been in their Seventh year at Hogwarts. They’d been partners in several classes, and she had gotten to know the charming but somewhat quiet wizard. After graduation, she’d accepted a job working as his assistant, the opportunity for travel and the large salary too tempting to refuse. She had taken correspondence classes from a wizarding university and had earned her joint degree in finance and charms two years ago. Instead of leaving Blaise, she had remained, finding the job fascinating and challenging and enjoying working with the man that had become her best friend.
Blaise was extremely good-looking and charming and intelligent, able to successfully command the attention of everyone during a meeting or of simply fading into the background when he wanted a moment of solitude or quiet. He was also a bit of a flirt to every woman except her, treating her like a younger sister even though she tended to take care of him. She had memorized the cute little notes to send with flowers to his numerous dates, the dark wizard never dating anyone more than once. She often teased him about his inability to commit to even a second date, referring to most of his witches as the flavor of the week. Her bitterness regarding his habit of dating constantly had nothing at all to do with the infatuation she had developed for him during the last few years. Nope, not at all. Since her social life consisted of going out with Harry and Pansy or Ron and Luna or Ginny and Neville, she knew he’d probably find it incredibly amusing that she’d gone and shagged some stranger in some weird Muggle town.
Luckily, she had today off work. The conference was over the previous afternoon, Blaise deciding that they’d spend the remainder of the weekend having a real vacation with no work, though he had one last meeting scheduled that afternoon. That was why they’d been at that club last night, having joined a few of the others that they’d met at the conference for drinks and dancing. Hermione had actually dressed up for the occasion, knowing the other female attendees had been barely clad the entire week while she’d been wearing her customary trousers or knee-length skirts and baggy but comfortable shirts.
She’d felt rather dowdy the entire week, for once allowing her vanity to show through by choosing a dress that displayed her curvaceous figure without making her look too pudgy. It had been low cut and there had been a slit on the side that went to her upper thigh, showing off her long legs and full breasts. Her hair had been left down instead of being twisted into a loose bun or ponytail, the brown curls falling down her back and giving her a carefree and sexy look, though she tended to think it just made her look disheveled and messy. Hermione had been determined to enjoy the evening and just have fun.
Since graduation from Hogwarts six years before, she had been so busy with studying and working and making time for her friends that she hadn’t really just let go and relaxed. During any of the functions she had to attend with Blaise, she was always working and reminding him who everyone was, though he had a fantastic memory and rarely needed her assistance but he still insisted she be present.
When she protested, he’d smile that appealing smile and his indigo eyes would flash violet and she’d be unable to refuse. It had been that particular smile that had gotten her into this current mess. She’d wanted to remain at the hotel and owl her friends, but he’d smiled and informed her that it certainly wouldn’t be any fun wandering our some strange Muggle town without her there to interpret.
He had hinted that it could very well fall beneath her job description to make sure he interacted with the Muggles without making himself look stupid. Ha! As if Blaise Zabini, charismatic and captivating would ever have a reason to worry about looking foolish. She had relented, though, because the town was fascinating and she’d liked the idea of exploring it before returning home. She also found it, even after seven years, rather impossible to resist Blaise when he was at his most charming and had that determined gleam in his eyes.
Which was how she had ended up wearing a sexy dress that she normally wouldn’t have dared wear while drinking far too much and ending up in bed with some strange man who had a very hard body pressed against hers. Did she mention all the aching muscles that had not been used since her brief affair with Oliver Wood the summer after graduation? Hell, there were some aches indicating that she’d done things the previous night that she’d never done before and she couldn’t remember anything. With a soft groan, she realized that she was going to have to open her eyes if she planned to sneak out of here without any awkward moments.
Slowly, brown eyes opened, focusing on an expensive lamp beside the bed before looking at the clock. It was nearly ten, her eyes widening slightly as she realized this was the latest she had ever slept. The body behind her snuggled closer, an erection pressing against her bum as a hand possessively held her breast, breath on her neck as the man she was sleeping with continued to sleep. He had great hands, she thought before cursing herself for thinking about the feel of this stranger instead of figuring a way out of this mess. Blaise was probably worried about her, she realized, knowing that they had discussed meeting for lunch and doing some sightseeing.
Malfoy was probably enjoying this, she thought crossly, deliberately filling his best friend’s head with all sorts of horrible ideas regarding her whereabouts, the blond Slytherin still being the biggest pain in her arse. He was Blaise’s best friend, though, so they attempted to tolerate one another and usually were content with verbal abuse instead of hexing. In most areas of her life, she was a mature and serious woman of twenty-four. However, mere moments in the presence of that arrogant, smug, condescending, rude, sexy blond bastard and she’d find her maturity slipping away as they began to argue about the stupidest subjects and usually end up name calling and glaring like children.
Blaise found it all terribly amusing and loved to invite Malfoy to sit with them at various functions or join them while traveling, the blond rarely refusing since he didn’t seem to have anything better to do than make her life miserable. That was definitely one of the few negatives of working for Blaise, having to constantly, or so it seemed, be around Malfoy since he was her boss’s best friend.
It was fortunate that she rather enjoyed their verbal sparring, enjoying the times she managed to best him and he had to admit defeat with a snarl before sulking or suggesting that Blaise fire her and hire someone less opinionated and intelligent. She and Blaise had their own arguments throughout the years but they were usually simple debates and one or the other would smile at the end and acknowledge that the other was right. Malfoy, however, would never admit she was right nor had she ever admitted he might infrequently on a very rare occasion be correct.
When she had left her room the previous night, Malfoy and Blaise had been lounging in the sitting room of the large suite. She remembered because there had been the moment of excitement at seeing that Draco had joined them unexpectedly mixed with the annoyance that her night out would be most likely be ruined by the egotistical prat. Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to concentrate on remembering what had happened. She’d greeted her boss and his friend, remembering Blaise gaping at her before he’d quickly stood up and given her his customary ‘Hermione reserved’ smile, as she liked to think of it. A charming but platonic showing of perfect white teeth that never failed to make her feel special since she had never once witnessed him smiling that particular smile at anyone else.
Malfoy had glared at her, she recalled, suggesting she might want to wear a robe or something to avoid catching a cold before flashing his Hermione reserved sneer. The one that said ‘I’m better than you are, you frumpy Muggleborn, and you should be thrilled that I am actually allowing you to be seen in my presence’ and made her want to slap it right off his thin lips. It was very unfair that Malfoy was not only a Pureblood from a noble wizarding family and quite wealthy, he also had to be handsome and, though she’d suffer through curses before admitting it, somewhat sexy.
His features were pointy and sharp, which should have made him look like a rodent, a slight smile crossing her face since he still loathed being called Ferret so it had become her own personal nickname for the smug and arrogant wizard. But, instead of resembling a rat, he managed to make a long, pointy nose and high cheekbones and thin lips, okay so the bottom lip was plump and full, look distinguished and attractive.
He was an average height, not much taller than her, but he carried himself with a self-assurance and confidence that caused him to seem superior. He was slender and she knew from catching him wandering around Blaise’s flat without his shirt that he was muscular and had great shoulders and could very well advertise the meaning of the word ‘six pack’. Blaise was taller than Draco, but the raven-haired wizard was lanky and caused one to always encourage him to eat more because he was too skinny. It was rather infuriating that he could eat as much as he did, having a fondness for Muggle sweets even, and still have a slim and almost willowy frame. When she ate sweets, they went directly to her hips or tummy.
Blaise moved with a grace and elegance that was unusual for one so tall, while Malfoy had this habit of moving in a predatory way, as if he were stalking you and could very well pounce at any moment. Needless to say, Hermione was the recipient of many an envious stare whenever she was with both of the wizard, finding it rather amusing and somewhat disappointing since one of them considered her a sisterly best friend and the other considered her an engaging adversary. The brunette witch made a face as she realized that now was not the time to lazily dose in bed and think about the two most prominent men in her life, spending more time with Blaise and even Malfoy than she did with Ron and Harry.
After they had left their room, they’d joined some other attendees and gone to some loud Muggle club. She did not drink alcohol but had decided to be a bit daring after Malfoy dared her to trying something reckless, ordering her a drink called a Paradise Peach, his pale gray eyes challenging her to drink the strange concoction. After that, she’d had several other fruity drinks that didn’t taste very alcoholic at all. There had been some guy that had asked her to dance, young but rather cute with brightly colored blue hair. She had accepted, she recalled, though the actual dance wasn’t coming to her hazy mind.
Hands on her body, lips on her neck, breath in her ear, whispers of leaving the loud club and going somewhere private. Laughing and flirting and kissing, touching and tasting, pleasure, so much pleasure, happiness and contentment, bold and daring behavior, splashing in a fountain. Flying. There had definitely been flying. Hermione grimaced as the images fluttered in random order, never showing the man that was in bed with her. She’d enjoyed it, though. She knew that even if she couldn’t remember it.
She knew she was procrastinating, putting off the awkward moment of ‘hey, I have no idea who you are even though we obviously shagged several times and in a variety of ways judging by how sore my body is today but I really need to go so let’s just chalk this up to having too much to drink’ and trying to sneak away with at least a little dignity intact. Oh God, her eyes suddenly opened as she had a horrid thought. What if she had ended up in bed with one of the old wizards that had been drinking so much and had the nerve to pinch her bum the previous day?
Surely even intoxicated she would have enough sense to find someone she was somewhat attracted to. After all, she had had sex only a few times in her life and that had been during her relationship with Oliver Wood, a man she still considered a good friend. She did not sleep around and had never had a one night stand, had never even imagined having one, so she really hoped she had at least chosen someone somewhat intriguing.
When she opened her eyes that time, she slowly became aware of two things. One was the fact that she had jewelry on her finger. Hermione didn’t wear rings, believing they got in the way when she was writing and not liking the idea of constantly removing the ink from them. Yet, there on her finger appeared to be two rings. One was a lovely silver band with what appeared to be emeralds and, Merlin, those looked like diamonds. The other was also a very pretty silver band with a setting of rubies and sapphires, both rings looking as if they probably cost more than she made in several years.
The other thing she noticed was that the hand possessively holding her breast was still in place, the smooth palm indicating that her worries of shagging some old wizard were unfounded, which really made it impossible for there to be a hand with a rough palm resting possessively on her hip. Hermione decided that this was definitely some sort of twisted dream most likely caused by whatever Muggle alcohol she had enjoyed the previous evening.
Before she could relax from making that rather preposterous but ‘Merlin, please let it be true’ decision, she felt lips on her neck and a very prominent erection against her arse and heard an all too familiar voice whispering, "Morning, love."
Well, what do you think? Please let me know!