ferretface_git | Loony Lovegood

Loony Lovegood

All he ever did was read. It was embarrassing. No war, no sides to pick, no Potters to intimidate. Only a lonely, miserable wizard with too much time on his hands and a roommate that didn't know the meaning of the word boundaries. It was humiliating, and Draco took it all with the grace and maturity of a two year old. At least he was consistent.

He couldn't hide, even if he'd wanted to. His room was no longer the safe haven it had once been. So he'd wandered out to the ocean, wearing a pair of green swim trunks and a dingy white t-shirt advertising some cheap Muggle diner he'd never heard of, his pale legs bare and his eye squinted against the sun. His book was discarded in the sand, tissue-thin pages fluttering in the wind, abandoned while he took a moment to look out over the surf.

If he'd been a normal man, he would've thought it beautiful, sitting with his knobby knees drawn up to his chest and his grey eyes watching the water foam up over the sand. If he'd been normal, he might've considered going for a dip.

But he wasn't normal. He was a Malfoy, and at the moment he was imagining the ocean surging up and swallowing the island whole.

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Draco is not known as a particularly considerate lover. She says please and he hears no request, only permission. Permission to push at her waistband, to hurry it along without much flair or time for foreplay. He'd be embarrassed to admit to rutting like animals, if asked later, but that wasn't far from the truth of it.

Condoms were things that Muggles used. He had very little concept of them, so the need for them hadn't occurred to him at all... but that could also be attributed to him being a man.

He was much more concerned with getting rid of all those clothes -- clothes which seemed to be magically multiplying -- so they could get down to business.

Another time, if he forgets, she'll be happy to scar him by announcing how ready she is to be a mother, but for now, she's just glad she took so many to fill up with water. Half of them have disappeared from the freezer now, and her experiment is ruined, but--

--oh, he's taking off his clothes. She helps by wriggling out of her shorts, kicking them across the room. My, my, she thinks, is that him against her thigh?

For once, she was helping instead of getting in the way. He'd thank her, only that wasn't in his vocabulary.

Without her clothes in the way, all he had to worry about was himself, his own stubborn zipper and his own nervous, jittery hands. He was pressed against her, kissing her almost frantically, needing some sort of distraction...

This was oh so very wrong. Wrong wrong wrong a voice chanted, looped in his head, but he told that voice firmly to shove it up it's arse.

Reaching between them again, groping towards all that heat, he found her wet, biting back a tiny whimper as he pressed against her with no barrier between them.

"Draco," she says softly, stopping him with her slender fingers resting on his cock. "Not without protection." If she strokes him once before climbing off the bed and going to look through her things, then that's just her way.

She comes back with a foil packet. "This is how the muggles do it."

Falling onto his back on the mattress with a quiet oof, he watched her with wide eyes, blinking owlishly, his usually tidy hair sticking up in all directions. When she returned, he looked down at the foil packet with something like horror, and when he said, "How the muggles do it?" there was a distinct shrillness in his voice.

"I don't see another option," Luna says, ripping it open. "Unless you'd like to chance it." She thinks maybe, if this is the sort of way he'll handle it (which is not surprising), she might look into this "pill."

"Or... quit..." she finally adds, in a quiet voice that suggests she likes that idea least of all.

"What do you do with it?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, but given the option of quitting all together, the least he could do was find out more information.

Besides, he wasn't an imbecile. He'd been on the island two years and of course he'd heard talk. Always use condoms. Yes, of course, but how?

There'd been a perfectly nice doctor who had to explain all of this to Luna; luckily, Luna is still an excellent student. She crosses the room again, only a few steps, and is on her knees in front of him.

Carefully, she rolls the condom on, biting at her bottom lip in intense concentration.

He watched her the whole time, then when she was through, he looked down at his cock, standing up comically with its little rubber hat, and he frowned. "Why would anyone do it like that?"

Muggle or not, this was just silly.

"So I don't get pregnant," Luna answers. "Mostly. No charms out here." She's seen plenty of pregnancy scares at Hogwarts regardless of charms, though.

Pregnant. He got a flash, a quick but no less horrifying portend of that possible future, and suddenly that little sheath of latex was his very best friend.

"Ah. All right, then," he said, closing his hands around her waist and hauling her closer again.

"It's been a while," she says softly, as her thighs hit the mattress. "Use-- use your fingers first." Who knows if he will take direction well here? Luna likes sex; for a motherless daughter, she has a troubling lack of hang-ups about it.

She just likes it to be good, is all.

If it was one thing that Draco Malfoy hated, it was being told what to do by someone so obviously inferior to himself. But his ever raging superiority complex had begun wavering months ago, and right in that moment, it was just about entirely dormant.

Still, he was used to plowing ahead, now, taking exactly what he wanted, so it was with great reluctance and probably very little skill that he reaches between her legs.

Luna lets out a sigh, drawing one leg up and allowing him better access. Even if he's faltering, what they've been up to so far has her wound up all the same, and she welcomes the touch with a little shudder.

Narrowing his eyes, he kept at it for a moment or two, then when she seemed more frustrated than anything, he gritted his teeth and muttered, "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

She doesn't think she would be laying here like this, splayed out like a woman of loose morals, if she was bored of it, but she does think over his question because it's polite. At least, she thinks it over until, suddenly, what he's doing is very right, and her hips buck up and she lets out a little cry.

His eyes widened, perhaps a bit shocked that he'd actually done something right, then the startled look quickly dissolved into something much more smug. He slipped another thin, shamelessly delicate finger into her, feeling her warm and stretched around two of them now, and let his thumb sweep over that little bundle of nerves he knew was there but rarely took the time to seek out.

He'd tire of this, soon enough. Of course he would. Draco Malfoy wasn't good at giving pleasure without receiving. But the power he felt just then was enough to keep him going, for now.

And to think how many people would doubt her judgment! Luna isn't in the habit of second-guessing herself anyway, but as she's arching up and sighing, writhing a little bit, she's quite pleased with her decision making process. Her fingers curl up in the bedclothes; she's ready for him.

"Draco," she murmurs.

Well, that was really all the encouragement he needed. Did he simply want her to be quiet? Possibly, but more likely, he was as ready as she was. Had been since they'd stepped through the door. He was male, after all.

There was a bit of fumbling, too over eager and too out of practice, as he rolled over on top of her, rearranging limbs and checking the silly rubber balloon on his cock before he lined up and pressed in, unable to keep from being a bit too abrupt.

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Loony Lovegood

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