"I'm going to fucking ruin you."
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The Dark Lord conquers the wizarding world, Harry Potter is dead. Muggleborns are slaughtered. Halfblood's are shoved into imprisonment, conditioned to alter their beliefs and dictated to worship Purebloods.
Y/N Y...
hi besties — the next 14 days of draco with y/n (14 chapters) are filled with the kinkiest sex, angst, + a different side of draco is introduced — so buckle up lover 👯♀️ .
the smut scene in this chapter is very long and a bit more aggressive than usual — hence why this update was so late .
PLEASE comment some kinks you would like to see here .
TW - bondage , light choking heavy orgasm control .
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D A Y O N E / F O U R T E E N «« you're mine now »»
━━━━━━━━━━━━
ϟ
The nightmare, as the demons of dreams, comes to educate me as if I represented a brave Gryffindor with enough courage to investigate these dark recesses of my brain.
It comes in visual puns and communicating in metaphor as the innovative dreaming brain does. Offering suggestions and seeking answers in return.
For what is the nightmare but a form of internal communication?
I pray it is a nightmare.
I refuse to open my eyes, I wish to shrivel my tacky skin from the unfamiliar sheets of this bed. In my mind, there remains a fraudulent scenario that Draco had not been proclaimed the victor for the bidding. It is my desire to shove aside the memory of him apperating me to this frigid bedroom prior to offering Vance two weeks.
Though, as my sagacity presented tangled and inaccurate versions of the known truth, there is one statement I dispense that I'm certain will remain authentic— I shall return to Vance at the termination of these next two weeks.
I am unfaltering in my belief that Draco is unable to persuade me to remain with him.
My lids snap open only to be smacked with a blaring light of the morning sun seeping through the middling crevices of the panne velvet curtains. I grant my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the startling illumination as I heavily flutter my lids.
"He must be nicer to you than he is to me." My throat is strained like stretchy thread weaved between my vocal cords, alerting me to simmer a glass of water into my system. "W-Why would you— um."
