Patented Daydream CharmsAuthor:
AU Element - Pirate shipWord Count:
1970Summary/Description: "You know, that really is extraordinary magic!"
- Hermione likes pirates, even when they're not who she expected.Author's Notes:
It's canon, I swear! Thanks to the mods for letting me have a wildcard slot this month. Any opportunity to write my OTP and pirate fantasies. XD
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry, but I can't allow you to return this. It's the third one you've bought this month and I'm telling you there is nothing wrong with the supply."
"No, look. You don't understand. There's something wrong with this." Hermione slapped the box down, its open flap waving sadly. The young witch behind the counter tugged at the sleeves of her magenta robes and tipped her head, her brows raised in a slightly impatient expression. Hermione huffed and shoved a curl behind one ear. "It's not working."
"Are you failing to enter the daydream?" the witch asked, a clipboard and quill appearing in her hands. She stared at the parchment and made a tick when Hermione shook her head. "Is the daydream scenario different from what is listed on the box? Musician instead of pirates, for example?" She continued asking questions in a monotone, each of Hermione's answers marked on the parchment. When she reached the end, she looked up at Hermione and tossed the clipboard and quill over her shoulder. They landed on a shelf behind her. She shrugged. "The Patented Daydream Charm, Adult Edition, is working as advertised and intended."
"No. No, it isn't." Hermione flicked the open box. "It's ... it's not doing what I thought it would. None of them have. The man--"
"Oh." The witch behind the counter covered her mouth, muffling a laugh. "Daydream starred someone unexpected? In that case, I have to tell you. It's working as it's supposed to be working. These let you have any fantasy you like. Doesn't have to be something you can explain." She put her elbows on the counter and leaned across it, her voice lowering to a near-conspiratorial tone. "Go with it," she said. "Whoever's showing up? Get wild. That's the entire point. It doesn't have to be rational, doesn't have to make any sense. It's your fantasy, so do whatever you want. It's just for you."
She reached beneath the counter and grabbed another box. Pushing it over the counter at Hermione, she winked. "One more try, on the house. Give it a go."
The wind coming off the waves carried salt in the air. Hermione stuck out her tongue as if she could lick it from the sky, then stiffened when a low, drawling voice came from far too close behind her. "I can think of many better things for you to be doing with that tongue of yours," the man said.
Hermione spun, her heavy skirts swirling around her ankles. She pressed her back to the railing of the ship's upper deck and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. The action caused the man watching her to drop his gaze to her chest, the pale curves of her breasts swelling over the lace and ribbon that formed the top of her low-cut bodice. She felt her heart pound at the impertinence of his action, but even more at the action itself. She knew a deep breath could make his eyes darken from storm grey to the shimmering black of the sea at night. She'd proven that to herself enough times since he and his crew had captured her ship and taken her as surety of a ransom.
She dug her fingers into her ribs, clutching at the hidden stays of her corset beneath her gown, in an attempt to keep her focus. The captain of this pirate vessel had made his interest in her very plain over the three weeks he'd held her aboard ship, but to her surprise he'd done nothing more than that. He'd told her how much she intrigued him, had told her some of the things he dreamt of doing to her, but it hadn't gone further than talk. She suspected that he was trying to wear her down, to fire her interest in him.
What she'd realized, as she stood watching the waves under a sky the same color as his eyes, was that it was working. The night before, she'd lain in the enclosed niche that made a bed in the captain's cabin, and she'd clutched the pillow between her thighs. She'd imagined that pillow was the man who stood before her, one hand on the hilt of a wand thrust through his belt. She'd thought of raking her nails over his lean hips, dragging along the black breeches that clung tightly to his thighs. She'd dreamt of his pale hair, ruffled now by the wind, wild and mussed as he rose over her. She'd shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from screaming out his name.
Now, as he stood before her, legs spread wide to brace himself against the roll of the ship in the waves, it took all she had to keep from grabbing the front of his shirt and hauling him to the deck. She lowered her arms, licked her lips, stepped forward and--
Hermione snorted and shook her head, eyelashes fluttering as she started to pull out of the daydream. She didn't know what she was going to say to the pirate or how she was going to plan out her next move. Grumbling under her breath, she reminded herself of what the clerk at the shop had said. It didn't have to be rational. It didn't have to make sense. Fantasy.
She tipped her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. Exhaling slowly, she let the daydream form again in her mind.
Candles in glass lanterns lit the captain's cabin with a soft golden glow. Hermione turned slowly in place, her heavy gown and tightly-laced corset melting away like fog slipping from the waves. She extended one hand to the pirate captain, the tip of her finger resting in the hollow between his collar bones. She dragged her nail up his neck, feeling the movement in his throat as he swallowed, and traced along his jaw to wrap her hand across the back of his neck. "You said you had better plans for my tongue?" she said, smiling at him.
He nodded, his pale hair shimmering in the candlelight. Hermione's smile deepened and she took a step closer. She slid her arms around him, a soft laugh caught in her throat as his clothing disappeared as quickly as hers had. She felt his cock against her stomach, hard and thick as a mast. Tipping her head, she touched her teeth to his throat. "Mine," she murmured.
He shivered in her arms and Hermione gave a quiet, almost primal growl. She pushed him down into the bed niche. A blink and a breath later and he was sprawled across the bed. She knelt between his legs, one hand resting on his thigh. The other toyed with his cock, stroking up the length, squeezing around the base. He clutched at the bed, his knuckles nearly white with straining, and she could see him fighting against the need to lift and thrust.
She leaned down, her tongue poking between her lips, until she was hovering barely a kiss away from the tip of his cock. Opening her mouth, she took a deep breath, then purred to herself when she felt his cock jump in her fingers and heard his soft growl of anticipation. She looked up at him through her lashes, admiring the deep red flush in his cheeks and the sweat beading on his brow. "On second thought," she said, her thumb pressing into the thick ridge on the underside of his cock. "I had an idea of my own."
Hermione bit her lip on a groan, shifting in her chair with one hand shoved between her thighs. She pressed her legs together and rocked against her fingers, trying to get some friction through the layers of robes, skirt, tights, and knickers. She kicked her court shoes off and dug her toes into the carpet. Further on, she decided, squeezing her eyes tighter. Further along.
She slammed her hand against the wall over her head and let out a shriek. Her legs tightened around his hips and she grabbed a fistful of his pale hair. She moaned, shouted, begged for more, ordering him to give her everything he had. He shoved both hands under her and dug his fingers into her shoulders, clinging to her as he drove deep into her. She could feel his body struggling, could feel him fighting to hold on, and she dropped her arm from the wall above her, trusting in his grip on her shoulders to keep her from being shoved any further up the bed. Even if his thrusts did push her into the wall, she decided it didn't matter. A headache the next day would be worth it if the orgasm she could feel building held even a hint of the strength it promised.
She wriggled her hand between their bodies and groped for her clit, desperate to push herself over the side and into the depths, to leap from the top of the mast and drown in the waves. She pulled at his hair in rhythm with her strokes, in rhythm with his thrusts, and she called to him like a siren, demanding that he join her. He swore and clutched her harder, his cock ramming into her, and she felt him shudder. He ducked his head into the curve where her neck met her shoulder and he groaned her name. Over and over, he called for her as a lantern swayed overhead, knocking against the wall. He lifted his head and she looked into his storm-grey eyes and she felt her release coming on like a tidal wave rushing the shore. Releasing his hair, she cradled his cheek and parted her lips to call his name in return. "Dr--"
The door rattled on its hinges. "Hermione! Goddammit, Granger, how many times am I going to have to knock?"
Hermione shrieked and bolted up from her chair, quills knocked off the desk and parchments scattering across the floor. She knocked over the chair and bruised her hip on the corner of the desk as she frantically struggled to straighten her robes and hair. Failing that, she rushed across her office to lean on the door. "I'm-I'm. Draco! I'm!" She looked up at the clock over the door and bit back a shout. Ten minutes late for the weekly meeting. She'd misjudged the length of the daydream charm, not having expected that she'd let this one run any longer than she had before.
She flattened her back on the door and covered her face with both hands. She could feel the flaming heat in her cheeks. For a moment, she heard herself, a much younger version of herself. I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!
Hermione swore silently at herself. She didn't know what was more frustrating: that she was going to be late for the meeting or that she hadn't been able to finish her daydream.
A knock pounded against the door just behind her head. "Granger! Get your pert little arse out here! I'm not facing the committee alone. You're the talker in this partnership, now come on and put your mouth to work."
Hermione thumped her head on the door. She pushed away from it and opened it a crack, peering through the narrow slit at Draco. "I'll be there in a minute," she said. "You, er. You go on. I'll be there. Just need to...." She shut the door on his startled expression.
Taking a few moments to run a couple of freshening-up spells over her robes, she tried to put the daydream out of her mind. That failed spectacularly, especially with his words echoing in her mind. Hermione sighed at herself, grabbed a quill, and scribbled on a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes ordering sheet. Patented Daydream Charms, Adult Edition. Five. Pirate version. Express delivery.