harry potter one shots || various x chubby!reader

2. you called | draco malfoy x chubby!reader (MATURE)

summary: On a particularly lonely night in her cozy London apartment, 23-year-old (name) recalls the face of an old lover. An echo of a face contorted with pleasure, hovering over her and whispering sweet absolute nothings. That was back in school at Hogwarts, though, so why was she still missing Draco Malfoy nearly 6 years after the war had ended? And why the hell does she decide to pick up her phone and call him?
genre: minor angst, SMUT. This is NOT written for those under the age of 18. Minors, turn away.
warnings: not proofread, porn without plot, they r lowkey toxiccc, mentions of infidelity (Draco cheating on his wife with reader), masturbation, degradation (use of names like slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex, oral (fem. receiving), possessiveness, dom!draco and sub!reader dynamics, reader is just a sweet lil princess and has Draco wrapped around her finger
pronouns used: she/her
word count: 4.4K
All characters in every aspect of this story are 18+. Again, this is MATURE. Do not read if you're not comfortable. If you choose to continue to read, thats on you.
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She tried to forget the details of him that had burned themselves into her sensory memory. She had six years to recover from him.

Six years to forget the heat of his palms on her skin. He was always so much warmer than her, like a serpent spent the day basking in the sun. His big palms would spread flat against her thick thighs, rough, hot and heavy as he pushed them apart so that he could wiggle between them.

Six years to forget his smell, a stupidly boyish cologne that all the lads at Hogwarts wore. They all went on about how the ladies loved it, but it was just awful when they doused themselves in it like it substituted showering for the week. Draco, though, knew exactly how much to wear, just what was needed so that it brushed your nose when he strode past you in the hallways, or in (name)'s case, enough so that she could smell it at the base of his neck as he pressed eager kisses to her lips.

Six years and she still remembers the taste of his mouth. Wintergreen mint gum on the good days, saline on the miserable.

   "Draco? I thought you went to watch the game." (name) greeted the boy who entered the room with a soft smile, setting down her book on the table beside the Slytherin lounging room couch, where she laid horizontally with her head resting on the couch arm.

Draco glanced with paranoia around the room after walking in, noticing that conveniently the entire Slytherin house had gone to the Quidditch game.

   The boy looked upset, (name) had learned to recognize the signs.

He approached her quickly, set his hand next to her head on the arm of the couch and leaned down to press his lips to hers without a word.

The kiss was frantic, not unlike many of the makeout sessions they'd had. But this one was so obviously different. There was a feeling behind it that had never been there.

   Draco hurried to part her lips with his tongue, setting his other hand against her soft jaw as she leaned up into the kiss. It didn't take long for (name) to notice that Draco began crying, the salt of his tears reaching her tongue. She pulled away immediately, catching a glimpse of his streaky face and furrowed brows before he turned his face to the side in an attempt to hide.

"Draco? What is it?"

"Don't- just- I can't. I have to go."