Selfish Desires

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/35840155.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot,
Established Relationship, Age Difference, Older Man/Younger Woman,
Nanny/Parent Relationship, No Infidelity of Any Kind, Fluff and Smut,
Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink,
Possessive Behavior, Degradation, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Play,
Breeding Kink, Naked Female Clothed Male, Size Difference,
Cockwarming, Marking, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Orgasm
Delay/Denial, Aftercare, Soft Draco Malfoy, Past Astoria
Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Collections: Cream de la cream of dramione, Besto Dramione, America Runs on
Dramione, short storys<3, HP_age_gap_goodness, Dramioneotp, TDH
Harry Potter EU, DMHG one-shots, Hermionie_GrangerxDraco_Malfoy,
But Daddy I Love Him (Hermione’s version)
Stats: Published: 2021-12-21 Words: 4,248 Chapters: 1/1
 Selfish Desires
by sweetestsorrows (katschako)

Summary

Draco can’t help but imagine a future with Hermione every time he sees her interacting with
Scorpius—caring for his son and loving him as if he were her own child. It’s too difficult to
not imagine the diamond ring he would present to her, the wedding dress she might wear, and
how it would feel to expand his family, giving Scorpius a younger sibling. He knows he
shouldn’t be planning so far into the future, not when they’ve only officially been a couple
for a few months and Hermione is nearly fifteen years his junior. He couldn’t possibly ask for
such a commitment from her… Though, maybe he won’t have to.

Notes

This was written as a gift for Kate, who was one of the two winners of my 2k giveaway on

💗
Twitter! I was so pleased to get to write a story for such a lovely person and friend. I hope I
did the kinks justice!

See the end of the work for more notes

The moment he steps through the door, the sound of a very happy baby fills the air.
Interspersed between his son’s babbling, Draco can hear the soft responses Hermione offers.

Despite the stresses of the day, he can’t help but smile.

It feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders as he makes his way through the house, the
faint scent of dinner still lingering—a reminder that he’s home later than he’d like to be.

Sometimes it can’t be helped, though, and knowing that Scorpius is in good hands makes it
slightly easier to bear. Of course, Hermione is more than just their nanny now, even if she
prefers to maintain the arrangement and title. Truthfully, it is easier. It’s not as if she could
call herself a stay-at-home mom, given that she isn’t quite that. At least not yet. To call her
the nanny doesn’t feel quite right either, but Draco is willing to make concessions if it means
Hermione is happy.

Thus, during the weekdays, she cares for Scorpius, maintaining the same professional
boundaries and receiving the same bi-monthly paycheck that she did before more recent
developments.

At night and on the weekends, well…

That’s a different story entirely.

A particularly loud shriek resounds through the house, and as Draco rounds the corner to the
living room, the sight that greets him is a familiar one.

Hermione is sitting on the plush carpet with the skirt of her dress pooled around her thighs as
Scorpius climbs all over her, tugging at her curls in a way that’s sure to hurt. She doesn’t
scold or reprimand him, though. In fact, the smile on her face might be even wider than the
one on Scorpius’ face, the two of them lost in their little blissful moment. When Scorpius
abandons her hair in favour of throwing his arms around her neck in a crushing hug,
Hermione merely laughs and runs her hand along his back.
Neither has noticed him yet and rather than interrupt their moment, Draco leans against the
frame of the door and watches.

It fills his heart with such joy to see the two of them together, to know that Hermione loves
Scorpius as if he were her own. This development certainly wasn’t what Draco expected,
given that she was, at the start, merely a way to ensure that his son was properly looked after
while he was at work.

Now, though, he’s not sure that either he or Scorpius could survive without her.

Draco always intended to raise his son alone, given that his marriage with Astoria was strictly
business. She promised to act as a surrogate mother to his child and, in exchange, Draco paid
her a sizable alimony when the divorce was finalised shortly after Scorpius’ birth. Of course,
no one knew that the former Mr and Mrs Malfoy never even slept together, or that Scorpius
was conceived via in vitro. Astoria now lived a peaceful, private life with her partner,
Ginevra, and Draco, for his part, couldn’t be happier with his son.

Scorpius was all he needed.

At least, that’s what he thought, before hiring Hermione as a full-time, live-in nanny.

Now it’s clear that their lives are infinitely better with her in it, and that, in spite of his initial
reservations at letting a stranger into their home, Hermione is the missing puzzle piece that
completed his perfect little family.

“Look who’s here, Scorpy,” Hermione says, pulling Draco from his reverie.

“Dadda!” his son exclaims with a wide smile.

“Hey, bud,” Draco says as a matching grin spreads across his face. “I missed you.”
He crosses the room in a few short strides as Hermione scoops Scorpius into her arms and
stands, the baby kicking his legs excitedly and reaching for Draco. A delighted squeal
escapes Scorpius when Draco nuzzles his face, kissing his plump little cheek as Scorpius
yanks on his ear. Once greetings have been properly exchanged, he shifts Scorpius to his
shoulder and turns to Hermione.

“I missed you, too.”

“Long day?” she asks.

Draco merely hums in acknowledgement as she tucks herself under his arm, tilting her face
toward his so he can press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Unhappy to be left out, Scorpius releases a small screech of Dadda to voice his displeasure
and, with a laugh, Draco turns back to his son.

“I think,” he says, “that it’s past someone’s bedtime.”

Scorpius slaps a small hand against his face, far too energetic considering he really should
have been asleep at least an hour ago.

“We were waiting for you to get home,” Hermione says as if reading his mind. “He doesn’t
sleep well if you’re not the one reading his bedtime story.” She smiles at Scorpius and ruffles
his hair before looking back at Draco. “Why don’t you get him tucked in, and I’ll reheat your
dinner?”

“I can put him to bed,” Draco agrees, “but I’ve still got some work to do.”

“That’s a shame…” she says with a dramatic, forlorn sigh. “I was hoping Daddy might give
me some attention, once our wee baby was sleeping.”
The fact that she so easily refers to Scorpius as theirs is a new development, but one that
never fails to thrill him. While Draco and Hermione have only been officially seeing each
other for the past two months, she’s been a part of their lives since Scorpius was barely a
month old. So, for all intents and purposes, he is as much her son and for Hermione to readily
acknowledge that makes Draco happier than he ever imagined possible.

Of course, hearing her call him Daddy in a way that is clearly not a reference to being
Scorpius’ father also affects Draco more than he cares to admit.

Watching her play with Scorpius was enough to give Draco all sorts of thoughts, the kinds of
thoughts he has no business having this early on in their relationship. Yet, even though he’s
painfully aware of how inappropriate it is, he can’t help himself. She’s just so naturally good
with Scorpius, it makes it impossible to not imagine how perfect it would be to put a ring on
a finger, to call her his wife and see her pregnant with a sibling for Scorpius. His heart
gallops in his chest just at the thought of it.

However, aside from the fact that they haven’t been together for any considerable amount of
time, Hermione is also very young—barely twenty-two years old with so much of the world
to see. Still, he’s wanted her for so long, far longer than he allowed to consciously
acknowledge. And now that she’s his, it’s just so hard to not make plans for the future. At
thirty-six years old, he knows exactly what he wants. He can’t expect the same from
Hermione, though.

“I’m going to get your dinner ready anyway,” Hermione says, once more bringing him back
to the present moment. “You shouldn’t miss a meal just because you have deadlines to meet.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

“It is whatever I say,” she agrees before turning to Scorpius. “Good night, little one.”

Running her finger along his cheek, she leans in to plant a kiss on his nose.
And, with that, she leaves Draco to it.

It, as it turns out, takes far longer than he anticipated.

The excitement at seeing his father has given Scorpius a burst of energy and, as such, it isn’t
until the third book that his eyelids start to droop, his breathing slowing as sleep finally
claims him. It’s tempting to keep laying there with Scorpius, to close his eyes and steal a bit
of rest.

Alas, work calls.

Draco takes his time wandering through their home, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it in
the closet of the room he shares with Hermione, which is oddly empty.

Perhaps she got held up in the kitchen.

As he makes his way there, he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, slowly rolling up the sleeves
before unfastening the first few buttons of his collar.

Finally, it feels like he can breathe.

When he arrives at the kitchen, he finds it dark.

With a sigh, he makes his way to his study. She probably left his dinner there and taken up
residence in the library, given that he said he would be busy into the night. It’s fine.
Reasonable, even. He was hoping to steal another minute or two with her, a few more kisses
before getting back to work. However, he cannot expect her to have known that.

Maybe if he’s able to finish reviewing the reports quickly, he can catch Hermione before she
goes to bed.
Draco begins to run through his to-do list, so caught up in mentally reviewing all that’s
absolutely crucial for him to finish before the end of the night that he fails to notice the
oddity that awaits him in his office.

It isn’t until he’s sitting behind his desk that he realizes his dinner is, in fact, not before him
like it usually is on nights he works late. Instead, it’s waiting for him on a small table in
between two armchairs, angled toward the seat he usually favours.

And in the other seat is Hermione.

The top of her dress is pulled low to reveal her perky breasts. A flush covers her skin from
her chest to her cheeks. Her head is thrown back, eyes pinched shut and lips parted as she
sucks in air.

Draco can hardly believe his eyes. It seems a lust-induced hallucination for Hermione to be
here, in his office. Then a small whimper escapes her and it certainly sounds real enough.

As his gaze travels down her body to the apex of her thighs, he finds her fingers buried deep
in her cunt, the slick arousal that coats her folds visible even from where he sits.

Without fully realising what he’s doing, Draco crosses the room to her. And like a man in a
trance, he drops into the chair across from her, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his
knees.

“Hermione?”

His voice sounds hoarse even to his own ears.

At the sound of it, she opens her eyes.

And for a millisecond, a look of utter satisfaction crosses her face at his reaction. It happens
so quickly that Draco would have missed it if he blinked.

“Hi again,” she says breathily.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you might like a show with your dinner.”

What a little minx. She knows how difficult it is for him to resist her, especially when she’s
wet and ready for him. While she may be the consummate professional during the day when
she’s caring for his son, the woman he shares a bed with is a ruthless, outrageous vixen in
getting what she wants.

She’s never been good at playing coy, either.

In remembering that, Draco remembers himself and the roles they play.

“If you’re going to give me a show,” he starts, leaning back in his chair, “you should be
entirely undressed.”

Her eyes never leave his as she stands, peeling the straps of the dress from her arms and
letting the garment drop to the floor. She’s entirely bare underneath and when she clasps her
hands behind her back, it pushes her chest forward.

“How do you want me, Daddy?”

He swallows a groan at that goddamn word.

It shouldn’t have so much power over him.

“Sit down and spread yourself out for me.”

She does so immediately, her cunt glistening.

“You’re dripping already…just from touching yourself.”

It isn’t a question, but Hermione nods her head, all the same, tugging her lip between her
teeth coquettishly as she looks up at him from beneath her thick lashes. In the low light of the
room, her eyes are as dark as sin.

“My perfect little whore,” he murmurs in approval. “What were you thinking of?”

“Your cock,” she answers immediately.

“I fucked you before I left this morning.”

“And?” Her lip juts out into a pout.

“Greedy slut,” he says with a low chuckle.

“Only for you,” she agrees. “Can I touch myself?”

He waves his hand dismissively, already reaching for the plate she prepared for him. Despite
his protests earlier, he is rather hungry. Just as he takes the first bite, Hermione slides her
fingers between her folds.
“Fuck,” she moans softly as she circles her clit.

And though his gaze remains fixed on her cunt, Draco doesn’t say a word.

Her eyes are hazy as the squelching sound of her fingers thrusting in and out fills the room.
She’s already using two, which means she must have been at it the entire time he was
otherwise occupied.

“Did you make yourself come?”

“N-no,” she says, without needing to clarify what he means. “Not without you.”

Draco hums in approval.

“Good girl. Your orgasms belong to me, don’t they?”

“Y-yes,” she manages.

“And you? Who do you belong to, Sweetheart?”

“I’m yours,” she gasps. “All yours.”

“Do you want to come?”

The question is hardly necessary. He can already see from how her toes are curling and the
way her back is arching away from the chair that she’s nearly there.
“Yes. God, yes,” she says, though it’s more of a whine. “I’m so close.”

He doesn’t bother answering, instead turning his focus back to his plate as she adds yet
another finger, stretching herself out further.

“Daddy,” she begs.

He knows exactly what she wants, but Draco won’t grant it.

He doesn’t even look up from his dinner, with which he is just about done.

“Daddy, please,” she tries again.

“No,” he says firmly, setting his plate down.

The clang of the silverware against the dish is definitive, though it’s nearly drowned out by
her wail of desperation. Even so, she pulls her fingers from between her folds and Draco can
see the way the muscles of her cunt pulse, so close to release yet deprived all the same.

Her chest heaves in exertion as she glares at him. Yet the ire soon dissipates when Draco
undoes his trousers and pulls himself from his pants, his cock springing free, hard and heavy
against his abdomen. There’s already a bead of precum leaking from the tip, which he gathers
with his fingers before fisting his length in languid strokes.

Draco continues his silent show for another minute, wanting to be sure that she is no longer
on the edge of her orgasm. She stares all the while, clutching the arms of the chair to keep
herself from going to him. He can see the internal conflict on her face—from the way her
brows are knit together to how she teases her lip between her teeth.

“Fuck yourself on your fingers again,” he says lowly, breaking her trance. “I want to see you
try to fill that pretty little cunt of yours.”
Immediately, Hermione does so, moaning wantonly as she slides three fingers in easily.

“Add a fourth finger… Loosen yourself up for me.”

He sees the way she lights up at the promise of his cock, the way her lust blinds her to the
fact that she has yet to be punished for her impertinence. He lets her have her fantasy, though.

“I think about your cunt all day, you know. It makes it rather difficult to focus during
meetings and presentations… The only thing I can focus on is how good it feels to be inside
you, to feel you coming while you scream my name.”

Her eyes remain fixedly on the way Draco is stroking himself as she surely fuels her arousal
by imagining what it will be like when he fucks her. For a moment, Draco thinks she might
tumble over the edge of bliss without even asking, as they’ve agreed she’ll do every time she
orgasms.

Yet, at the very last minute, even as her thighs are quivering, she asks.

“Can I please come, Daddy?”

“No,” he says again.

And if looks could kill…

Ignoring her silent rebuke, Draco stands and reaches a hand toward her.

“Come here, love.”

When she tucks her fingers into his hand, Draco pulls her to him so that his cock is trapped
between their bodies, pressing to her stomach. Gripping her chin, he slots his mouth to hers,
devouring her slowly as his teeth nip her lip and his tongue brushes against her tongue.

“You’re such a brat,” he murmurs against her lips. “So needy… Demanding, even. I told you
I’d be busy, but that didn’t stop you, did it, Sweetheart? Now I’m left with little choice but to
use you as a cock sleeve while I work, maybe teach you some patience in the process.”

She’s looking at him dazedly, a rosy hue colouring her cheeks as she catches her breath.
Without wasting another moment, Draco throws her over his shoulder, smacking her bare
arse for good measure as he walks back to his desk and the work that waits for him.

“You’re going to sit on my cock,” he informs her and as he sits down and sets her to her feet.
“If you can be good until I’m done with my reports, I’ll make you come twice.”

Tugging her into his lap, he settles her wet cunt onto his erection and grips her hips, slowly
sliding her back and forth to coat himself with her arousal.

“Can you be good for me?” he asks.

She’s looking down at the place where their bodies are very nearly connected, not paying him
any mind. And as much as Draco loves how mesmerised she is by having sex with him, he
cannot allow for any more insolence.

“Answer me,” he demands. “If you want to come at all tonight, that is.”

Draco threads his hand through her curls and tugs her head until she looks up at him. When
her tongue darts out to wet her lips, his eyes drop to follow the movement.

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll warm your cock for you.”

“And you won’t come until I say so.”

She nods her head vehemently, a small gasp escaping her as Draco tilts her forward to slide
into her cunt. She feels like molten heat as she stretches around him, her walls moulding to
him as he pushes inside her until he’s buried to the hilt.

“Oh, god,” she moans.

“You feel so damn good,” he says, unable to hold his tongue. “Absolutely bloody
incredible… Fuck.” He’s prattling on now—Draco knows it, but he can’t stop, either, not
when being inside her is a sacred, holy experience. “You are in possession of the most perfect
cunt.”

Her walls clench down on him at the praise, her head falling against his shoulder as he
arranges her across his thighs so he can slide his chair to the desk and peer at his laptop. It
helps that she’s so much smaller than he is, that she can nestle in his arms easily without
much effort. Even so, Hermione does her utmost to make the next forty-five minutes the most
difficult ones of the week.

From wriggling against him to purposefully tightening her cunt around his cock to sucking a
line of kisses from his jaw to his neck to his clavicle, she puts up a valiant effort to distract
him and weaken his resolve.

And while it is rather tempting to spread her across the desk and ravish her, Draco remains
determined. There are a few instances in which his hand meets her arse in reprimand when
she becomes too bold, too forward in her ministrations.

By the time he’s done with his work, his trousers are soaked with her arousal and Hermione
has abandoned her efforts to torment him in favour of focusing her attention on not
orgasming. For a moment, Draco considers taking mercy on her.

Then he decides against it.

“Hermione,” he says.

She looks up at the sound of her name.

“Suck.” Offering her his finger, Draco guides it between her lips until he’s entirely sheathed,
nearly reaching her throat. “Get it wet for me.”

There’s a rekindled fire in her eyes as she laves the digit with her tongue, hollowing her
cheeks and thoroughly coating him with her saliva. If Hermione is hoping to punish him, this
is certainly one way to go about it.

Before she can get too carried away, though, he slides his finger from her mouth and traces it
along the cleft of her arse.

“May I?” he asks.

Although they’ve long ago discussed their kinks, limits, and related topics, for this, he always
likes to ask.

Hermione nods her head and, with her permission, he begins to circle her tight, puckered
hole. She takes to sucking on the base of his neck, just below his collar-line, her moans
reverberating against his skin when he slowly fills her arse with his finger.

The fit when he’s buried in her cunt is already rather snug, and with the added finger, Draco
knows it’s likely nearing what she can take. Still, even though it’s certainly a stretch, her
selfish desire for him wins out. In the end, she pushes back until his finger is inside her
entirely.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs.

“So, so, so full. I need to come. Please.”

Leaning forward and tilting his head to capture her nipple between his lips, Draco circles the
pert bud with his tongue as her walls begin to flutter, her orgasm already approaching though
he’s done little more than stuff both her cunt and her arse. He spends another minute or so
teasing her nipple, flicking his tongue in sync with the finger inside her. Glancing up, he sees
a tear sliding down her cheek at the overstimulation.

Only then does he pull away from her breast for a moment to say, “Come for me, sweet girl.”

And she does.

Her head falls back as her mouth opens in a silent scream, her back bowing and pushing chest
further into his face as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. Through it all, Draco
alternates between sucking on her nipples, one hand buried in her tight arsehole and the other
holding her hip to keep her steady.

It isn’t until she collapses forward that he draws back, allowing her to settle against his chest.

With a soft kiss to her temple, Draco begins to slide his finger in and out of her arse at a
languorous pace, slowly enough to ensure he won’t overwhelm her. Several minutes pass this
way with the clock on his mantle and her laboured breathing filling the silence. The smell of
sex clings to the air and Draco feels as though his cock might burst from the innate need
to move, but he continues to take his time.

It isn’t until she looks up at him, eyes hazy and dark, that he speaks.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you properly?”

“Yes, please,” she demures, looking away for a moment. Then, “I want you to breed me,
Daddy.”
Draco can’t swallow the groan that elicits, his cock twitching inside her at the mere thought.
It’s not as if he hasn’t come inside her before, given that she’s on birth control and they’re in
a monogamous relationship. Still, to have it described like that?

She hisses when he pulls his finger from her, but Draco doesn’t give her any more time to
react. With both hands gripping her thighs, he begins to bounce her on his cock in time with
the thrusts of his hips. Already, he can feel her climbing towards the peak again.

Thank god for that.

Draco is painfully close to coming and though he should probably be embarrassed by that, he
can’t find the energy to care. Her cunt is gripping him so tightly and with her tits bouncing
right in his line of sight, he’s honestly surprised he hasn’t finished already.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum. Would you like that, Sweetheart?”

An incoherent sound escapes her even as she digs her fingers into his shoulders.

“Sometimes I imagine you pregnant, your stomach round and heavy with my child.”

Her eyes fly open and for a moment, Draco wonders whether he said too much. He doesn’t
know what possesses him to utter the deepest desires of his heart, but there’s no taking it
back. He’s about to apologise, to beg for her forgiveness. That’s when he feels it.

She’s coming again.

More of her slick arousal leaks down onto his bollocks and trousers as her cunt clenches
rhythmically, the heady sensation pulling him over the edge, too. And, just as he promised, he
fills her. Rope after rope of his cum spills into her as he leans forward to suck a mark just
below her clavicle.
They remain twined together, even after both their orgasms have abated, with Draco trailing
his fingers along her spine, kissing her hair and whispering her praises. He never stops
worshipping her, not when he gathers her in his arms and stands, or when he deposits her into
the tub and draws them a bath before sliding in behind her.

And as the sweet scent of lavender fills the air and Hermione presses herself firmly to him,
her back slotted against his chest and his arms wound around her stomach, Draco knows.

Life really couldn’t get more perfect than this.

End Notes

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