A/N: Something completely different and a little silly. I actually wrote this a long time ago and just finished it up today. It's not perfect and has a lot of mistakes but I think it's cute. The story changes tenses half-way through which is kind of weird but I couldn't bring myself to change it for some reason.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny, Draco, or anything else from the Harry Potter universe. That all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Forgive me if it's terrible :(
"Ginny, we've been dating for six months now; it's the logical next step. I have needs, you know."
"I know, Draco. But… I'm just not ready yet"
She always said the same thing. 'I'm not ready yet'. How the fuck was I supposed to know when she was ready?!
Draco dragged a hand through his thick blond hair and huffed loudly. He didn't want to push her; he cared about her, and wanted her to feel comfortable. Wanted her to feel 'ready'. But, Draco Malfoy was not accustomed to having to wait for what he wants. He wasn't exactly a patient person, especially not when it came to a certain redheaded female.
He desired her like he had never desired any other woman, but she seemed unaffected by him. 'Seemed' because he knew she wasn't really. She couldn't be-he was Draco Malfoy, Slytherin sex god extraordinaire.
So what was he doing wrong? He had tried romantic evenings, expensive dinners, wine and candle light, but she was still never 'ready'.
…But, if there was one thing that Malfoy's were good at, it was plotting, and he had a plan. He would seduce her and turn her on until she was screaming at him to take her. Oh yes. It would be perfect.
His plan went into action the next night at dinner. He had taken them to his favorite restaurant and during the third course had slid a slightly shaking hand up her knee and up towards the hem of her skirt. She didn't make any protests so he moved his hand higher, his palm creeping along the smooth and soft skin of her thigh.
His breathing became labored as he came closer and closer to her center and still she let him. He was less than a centimeter away, the tips of his fingers brushing the satin of her underwear when he felt something sharp on the back of his hand, poking him through the material of her ruffled skirt.
His eyes shot up to hers guiltily, as she pressed her fork deeper into the skin of his hand.
"What are you doing?" she asked calmly.
"Touching you," he said breathlessly and she smiled.
"Not anymore," She sing-songed as he removed his hand, a look of dejection on his aristocratic features.
Attempt #1: Failed
Later that evening, they sat at a muggle movie theatre; the room was dark as a couple whispered some lovey-dovey nonsense to each other on the big screen. He still didn't understand why Ginny's enjoyed muggle movies so much.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him as she remained riveted by the movie. He breathed in her scent and smiled, she smelled heavenly. He sighed, his breath brushing against her neck and she shivered. His eyes widened…maybe…
He blew lightly on her neck once more and she shivered again. He tried a few more times with the same result and began to get excited. This was it! He started blowing on her neck in earnest while massaging her shoulder with his fingers.
Out of nowhere, she placed her hand on his face and pushed his head back.
"Wfut?" he asked, his words muffled by her hand.
"You're making me cold." she said simply before turning back to the movie.
Damn.
Attempt #2: unsuccessful.
Ok, so he failed that attempt but his next idea was sure to work. He knew more now. Know your enemy and all that. No blowing on her neck and no hands up her skirt. Lesson learned.
Over the next week he tried many more things, including: backrubs (flopped), nibbling her ears (bad idea), and whispering profanities to her about what he would like to do to her (she laughed.)
He was getting desperate. Malfoy's didn't do desperate. Tonight's idea had to work.
She was coming over to spend some time with him this evening after work and he was ready for her.
He had fifteen minutes until she was to arrive and he hurried to make sure everything was set. He left the front door unlocked for her and turned off all of the lights in his apartment, the only light coming from the many lit candles in his bed room.
He walked into his bedroom and closed the door so that only a crack was left--letting light spill into the hall.
With a few minutes to spare he undressed and jumped on his bed before hastily handcuffing his wrists to the bedpost.
He lay there, his body thrumming with anticipation as he waited. Distantly he heard the front door creak open and he felt his heart begin to pound. She was here.
"Hello?" she called out into the darkness and he had to swallow his nervousness.
"I'm in here," he yelled back and moments later the door to the bedroom slid open.
She stared- Just stared at him, before lifting an object from around her neck up to her face.
"No! Ginny, Don't!"
CLICK!
He should have seen that one coming, he really should have. Never ever date a photographer.
"Ginny," he growled and she giggled.
"Good night, honey," she said with a laugh as she flounced out of the room.
She wouldn't. Would she?
"Ginny! GINNY!" He called out to the empty room, silence meeting his ears. "GINNY!" he shouted, a little more hysterically this time as he heard the front door snap shut.
She would.
Let's see…Attempt # 21: oh, screw it.
Ginny: 21. Me: 0
She came back to untie me the next morning and informed with girlish glee that she had printed and framed the picture that she had taken. Splendid.
Sneaky little Weasel.
That had been just yesterday and today was shaping up to be just as disastrous.
She came over to my place again today; she was sitting in her favorite chair and reading the novel that she had brought with her.
"Would you like me to rub your feet?" I asked, as I watched her snuggle deeper into the cushions.
She peered over her book and gave me the sweetest smile I have ever seen, "If you want to."
"Would you like me to?" I teased and she nodded with a pout.
Only Ginevra Weasley could have me smitten enough to even offer a foot rub.
Her toes curled around my fingers as I worked at her muscles, pushing into the pad of her foot. She let out a little groan as I hit just under her toes and I watched as she wriggled in pleasure on her chair.
Hmmm. I could almost feel the heat of the light bulb as it flashed merrily over my head. I had an idea, and if her groaning and wriggling was any indication, this one was going to work.
I leaned my face closer to her feet and as quick as I could, I flicked my tongue over her big toe.
I jumped back quickly, afraid of being kicked but she didn't seem to notice, either that or she didn't mind. Keeping my hands at their pace of giving and releasing pressure, I leaned forward once more. This time, I let my tongue remain on her toe for a long period of time. She didn't protest and soon I found myself lavishing her toes with my tongue, I made my way back to her big toe and sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as I continued to massage her.
With a sudden jerk and a loud, wet popping noise she had pulled her foot free of my attentions.
"EW!" she squealed. "Draco, What the hell are you doing?!"
"I…I'm—Well, you see…" I stuttered. For the first time in my life I actually stuttered. How unrefined.
"You're trying to turn me on," she summed up for me and I just stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Y-" I squeaked before covering it up with a cough, "Yes" I said in a much more manly tone. "I—uhm…is it working?" I asked after a minute. This woman could make me feel so childish, it was almost unbearable. I chalked it up to the whole not-having-sex-for now eight months driving me insane thing.
It was probably true. I read somewhere that if a man doesn't have sex for a long time the fluids fill them up and start to put pressure on the brain…or something. Ok, so that's a lie, but I'm sure that if scientists studied it they would find out that I was right.
"No, it's not working," she said with a smirk, my smirk! She stole it from me, ungrateful wench! "You'll just have to try harder…"
I clenched my jaw tightly, "Can't you just…give me a hint?"
She shrugged and patted me gently on the cheek, "You can figure it out. You're a smart boy."
"Gin-"
"Draco, I told you. It not you, I'm just not ready yet..."
I cringed at her words, those same words that she always said. "Yes, I know but, Gin, I want to make love to you."
"You will. I'm just not…"
"..Ready", I finished for her and she smiled shyly at me and nodded before turning back to her book.
You would think that I would have given up by now, right? Wrong. Oh no, I'm a glutton for punishment it seems. I had much more up my sleeve which I dished out over the next few weeks: I tied her up when she least expected it (I think she blew my eardrums out with her yelling), I wore leather-ass less-chaps and a dog collar (Won myself a pretty rash for my troubles), tried spanking her (Terrible idea, she took it as a challenge. All those years of wrestling with her brothers, you know?), asked her to spank me (Now I have bruises to add to my rash), and I even wrote her naughty letters (apparently I'm very poor at writing. She edited it and returned it back to me).
At the end of all of this the score was left with Ginny having 30 points and me still being left with 0.
I finally admitted defeat and things between us went back to normal, somewhat. I stopped thinking about how to get into her pants all the time and she stopped wondering when my next attack would be. All-in-all it was a much more relaxed atmosphere.
Oh, sex hadn't left my mind completely. My balls were so freaking blue you would have thought they were royal. There were times that I thought I would burst, like when she would bend over to pick something up.
I wasn't actively trying to seduce her, but I wasn't above knocking things over just to see her reach down to retrieve them.
I wanted her like I had never wanted any other woman but I also knew her temper and if I continued to push her…well, they would most likely find my body floating up stream somewhere.
I would have to wait and although I hated it, she was more than worth it and when we finally did make love it would be spectacular. I found myself imagining her milky white skin, her legs spread before me and had to discretely adjust myself, hoping that she wouldn't notice.
A week passed, during which time my hand and I were becoming very familiar.
The calendar marked the date as Friday the fifth of June.
It was this day, the day that shall forever live in infamy, that the gods finally decided to smile upon me. So what if it was nearly a YEAR overdue.
We were spending the day together at her flat and she was busy making a cake for one of her nephew's birthdays. Hell if I knew which one. Anyway, the little squirt's birthday would be in two days and Ginny was the designated cake-maker.
She wanted everything to be perfect so she was practicing today for the final cake. I had half-heartedly offered to help and she had agreed happily, much to my dismay.
I mean…A Malfoy does not need to cook. We have servants for that sort of thing. Oh, and by the way…What the hell is baking powder?
We were making a chocolate cake with some sort of fruity layer in the middle. Strawberries I think.
"This is supposed to be chocolate, right?" I asked, staring at all of the containers of white powders in front of me.
"Yeah."
"Then why is everything white? Is it white chocolate?"
She looked at me in shock and then began giggling.
"What?" I asked defensively. I knew it was a bad idea to offer to help.
"Oh, Draco, you've never baked, have you?" she asked in amazement and I could feel my cheeks warming.
"No, just tell me what to do and lets get this over with," I grumbled, trying to save face.
Surprisingly, she took pity on me. She handed me some butter, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, eggs, and milk. Placing some instructions in front of me she indicated for me to begin.
"You'll make the frosting. That's the easy part," she said with that sweet smile and I nodded, eager to please.
While I struggled with melting and stirring she had already mixed hers and was pouring the batter into the pan. She had used some mixing spell but I'd be damned if I had ever paid attention during the 'Household Spells' chapter in Charms class.
No, I was stuck with a large wooden spoon and my own two hands. I felt foolish as she placed the pans into the oven and turned to see my progress, her brows rising in amusement and something else…that I couldn't quite identify.
"Tsk tsk, Mr. Malfoy, you seem to have made quite a mess," she said, sauntering over to me and pointing to the dark chocolate mixture that was spilled upon the table, surrounding my bowl. Her voice seemed lower, it was almost scary. She couldn't be mad, could she?
"I've never mixed anything before," I said helplessly and she smiled, running a hand down my sticky cheek.
She pulled her fingers away, brown goop coating them and she brought the frosting to her lips, sucking it deeply into her mouth.
"Guh," I said eloquentlyand she purred, straddling my lap and sticking her fingers into the bowl resting on the table.
"Want some?" she asked innocently and I nodded as she brought her fingers to my lips.
This was a dream, it had to be. She was never this forward.
I gazed at her suspiciously as I licked her fingers clean. She had to be playing with me.
"Mm, I love chocolate," she mumbled, her voice still low as she breathed in my ear.
She tugged on my earlobe with her teeth and then pulled away slightly, trailing her tongue down my cheek, licking at the chocolate that I knew was splattered there.
Not really knowing what I was doing, I dipped my hand into the frosting and painted small circular designs on her neck with it. I watched as the sweet mixture mixed with her sweat, the kitchen now growing warmer with the temperatures of our bodies being so close and the oven sitting only a few feet away.
I growled as she brought her neck close to my lips, instincts taking over as I began licking and sucking at the freckled flesh.
She moaned, bucking her hips against mine and I was a man possessed. I picked her up, clearing the table of the ingredients and plopping her down on it before crawling on top of her.
Her body slid against the chocolate spills on the wooden surface and the bowl of frosting had tipped over, covering us both with a thin chocolate glaze.
She ripped my shirt open, shoving it off my shoulders with a strength I didn't know she had.
The dirty garment fell to the floor with a squish and painted fingers found their way to my bare chest, sliding against my skin.
She rolled her thumb around my nipple and then arched her back, bringing her mouth closer and sucking the pebbled flesh into her mouth.
My fingers fisted in her hair and I yanked her head back, her mouth was glossed with the sugary substance and I crashed my mouth down onto hers, tasting her.
Dull fingernails clawed at my back and I rolled my hips against hers. All of my senses were focused solely on her. Her feel, taste, smell …I needed to feel more, to see more.
With a roar, I ripped myself away from her, tugging at the hemline of her shirt and pushing it up and away.
She helped me to lift it over her head and I tossed it across the room, my eyes glued to her body.
She wasn't wearing a bra, she never liked to when we were just spending the day around her apartment relaxing. I had imagined what she would look like under that shirt for so long but the actual thing was so much better.
"Touch me, Draco," she moaned, leading my hands to her breasts.
Oh, gods. She was exquisite. I kissed her lips again, sucking on her tongue as I gently squeezed her curves.
BEEP! BEEPBEEP!
The oven's timer went off andI whined pitifully as Ginny pushed me away, her breasts bouncing enticingly as she jumped down from the table and rushed to save the cake.
I was still in a daze, my heart drumming against my ribs and a certain part of my anatomy standing painfully at attention under my pants.
The moment was ruined, but I couldn't bring myself to feel sour about it. I had gotten farther than ever before, and I would now have even better visuals to keep my mind and hand busy when I got home.
I watched her as she covered her hand with an oven mitt and pulled the oven door open. She pulled the cake pans out one-by-one and set them on the stove top to cool before closing the door again.
She slid the mitt off of her hand and wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm before turning her eyes back on me. Those deep brown eyes, like swirling pools of chocolate.
Like the chocolate that was now drying and cracking on her skin. It took every bit of will power I had to not pick her up and make a mad dash for the bedroom.
She smiled seductively and I gulped.
"I'm filthy," she said with a sigh, a hand coming up to caress her right breast.
"Uh huh," I agreed, not caring that my brain seemed to have disengaged.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said, walking around me and out of the kitchen.
I stood there dumbly, watching her walk away from me, her hips swaying appealingly and her hair sticking in thick strands against her naked back.
Just as I decided that I could die happily, she stopped, turning towards me with wide eyes.
"Are you going to join me?"
With an animalistic grunt I rushed over to her, tossing her over my shoulder. She yelped, giggling as I carried her into the bathroom.
Gods be praised. I am the luckiest man on the planet.
Anyone that would argue that chocolate wasn't an aphrodisiac just wasn't lucky enough to have a woman like Ginny.
End score:
Ginny: 30. Me: Winning for the rest of my life.