Fanfiction: Hannah/Blaise
Title: Over after all
Rating: NC17
Pairings: Hannah/Blaise
Summary: All she needed to get over him was another encounter.
Word Count: ~1000
True, it had been over two years. Two bloody years since he had broken up with her. But she still wasn’t over him. That bastard prevented her from having any kind of relationship ever since. She couldn’t believe herself, really. It wasn’t like it had been a long time that they had been together. Three months, twelve days and six hours. Of which three months and twelve days had been unknown to either of their Houses. Blaise didn’t want them to know.
He had come to her after she had had her breakdown during their Herbology exam, saying that it would be alright and that he’d help her with the rest of her studies. While usually a bit shy, she now lunged out to hug him and kiss him briefly on the lips. She blamed the Calming Draught potion, he blamed his stunning looks.
After that the frequently met up in various broom closets. Or even in the Prefect’s bathroom, when Blaise convinced her to abuse her Prefect status. Yes, he had his charms.
Still has.
And now he’s sitting across her in the pub. All jolly and happy and ‘look at how funny I am ha ha’. Ginny was right in calling him a poser. Because he is. And she still wants him. Maybe he broke up with her because she never wanted to take the next step in their relationship? It was one of the many reasons she had thought of. Yet none ever seemed applicable enough.
He noticed her.
She looks into her glass.
He’s coming her way.
She looks for the exit.
“Uhm. Hey.” Honestly, she doesn’t know what else to see. There’s nothing to say. He ruined it. It was all him. If he hadn’t come to her none of this would ever had happened and she would be able to greet him like he was just another good friend. And-- oh God he’s gorgeous.
He laughed at her with his pearly-white smile and sat down next to her. Next to her. Next to her.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, and took her hand into his. He’s obviously drunk and even though she’s in a state as well, she still possesses the common sense to see that this is heading the wrong way.
“You should’ve thought of that before,” she sighed, and drank the last bit from her glass. She needed to leave, right now. Where did she leave her coat? And her keys. Oh God, her keys. Not that time again.
He seemed positively hurt. And she cared. How could she? She’s mad at herself for feeling pity for this pathetic loser. What the fuck is wrong with her. Pangs of guilt kept going off in her tummy and she wished she had stayed at home instead of having Ernie drag her to the Leaky Cauldron.
And than he kisses her. She first doesn’t give in, keeping her lips firmly locked to deny him entrance. But his hands are on her hips and it feels so good again so she lets him. She pressed into him and feeling him against her alone makes her want him even more than ever.
Her mind doesn’t even register of the how and when they got outside, but now he’s pressing her against the wall of an alleyway. His skilled hands unbutton her blouse, and he strokes and caresses her breasts. She moans into his mouth, not wanting him to leave her mouth.
He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? There’s nothing to laugh about and -oh. He pushes her skirt up so it’s pooling around her waist. He slowly let his hand travel up her thigh, not touching her yet. Not only is he a poser, he is a tease as well. And a good one. And he knows she’s enjoying it. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she could have sworn that she had heard him chuckle to himself.
Yet he’s still now doing much. She whimpers and grinds herself against him. “Please,” she whispers.
His hand goes down into her thong, and he starts stroking her with a lazy pace. But it’s not enough for her and she starts moving against him. Without warning her, he puts two fingers into her cunt. She gasps and clings to him as she starts fucking his fingers. To her disappointment, he removes them shortly after she started moving.
Chuckle.
He licks his fingers and kisses her on her mouth, a kiss she immediately answers. It’s funny, she notes, tasting herself on him. And it turns her on even more. But he’s impatient, and she knows it. If he hadn’t been intoxicated, he could’ve held himself back. But that is not the case now. She helps him with loosening the belt of his slacks, and she feels that he’s already rock-hard under her touch.
She let him put her leg around his waist, and he pushes himself into her. And she cries out, in pleasure and in pain. She hadn’t dared to look at his length, so she wasn’t prepared. And he’s panting in her hair and telling her how beautiful she is, and she believes him. He grabs her buttocks and pushes in even more. Without control he slams into her, and she wonders where the love is.
Even though she could cry, she doesn’t throw him off. She lets him have his way. It’s her punishment, for being such an idiot. He comes with a grunt, and she feels him slump against her shoulder. He retreats from her, and she feels his juices on her thigh. It makes her sick and she just wants to leave right now.
He hands her the blouse she was wearing. Still a bit of a gentleman then. And she puts it on. They don’t talk, or look at each other. It’s all awkward and she feels like running away again. She wanted sweet kisses and back to the old days but all she got was a flopping fish.
“I’ll floo for you,” he says. And he walks away.
And she cries into hands.
It’s really over now.