Six years after the war, Hermione has the picture perfect life. She's married to a loving husband, has the Ministry job she always wanted, and friends that are loyal to the end. So why does she have to glamour away the bruises on her face, as she reaches for her bottle of Muggle pills? No, her life is far from perfect. Draco has lived his life day-to-day for the last six years. After taking over the Malfoy estate from his estranged father and spending most of his time rebuilding the Malfoy name, he realizes he's missing something in his life. That's how he finds himself working alongside a certain Golden Girl, who seems to have lost her fire. Post war Dramione. *COMPLETE* Being translated into Brazilian Portuguese here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/300909032?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Bru4150&wp_originator=pJ6rw8NWhqXQ9FYK0%2BtsX%2F1KOT%2FqZ2X4gfyaFpc%2FheFNSLaYK1Y4uREQIef2af8FGUQcl8D%2BrmVZbDMUGUvUZaBOo6RqwQL26RqkR34m%2BjK8cTBpKJz4zhVHg%2FjC5Dbr

⚠️*PLEASE READ WARNINGS/TAGS!* "No?" He feigned hurt for a second, but his lips eventually twitched. "Hmm, how'd you explain this then?" Keeping one hand curled around the apex of my stiffened thigh, he freed the other from around my throat and swept two of his fingers across my burning cheek, down until they brushed against my parted lips. I tried and failed to formulate a verbal response. "No need to be shy about it," His voice was half-way between a sneer and mock assurance. "I tend to have that effect on people," The pad of his thumb was smooth against my parted lips. He kept brushing it back and forth, back and forth- I went to bite him. "Fucking- Bloody hell!" He pulled his hand away just in time, securing it in a pissed off grip around my jaw again. My glare became seething, yet still, I remained silent. "Didn't realize I was talking to a fucking Piranha," Draco huffed. I tried to ignore the aching feeling that came from the sensation of his hand still up my thigh, and instead began shooting out my insults. "Why the fuck would I want to do anything with you?" The only response I earned was a cocked eyebrow. So arrogant. "You- you're a pervert!" Draco didn't miss a beat. "And you're a fucking Mudblood slut." His smirk widened. "Aren't we just the pair?" My head began throbbing. "Fuck you." I intended to sound intimidating but you could practically hear me quivering -- buckling. "Fuck you. Fuck your little manipulation games. I'm not Astoria. Or Pansy. I'd rather open my legs to a chainsaw than to you." All this evoked from his stupid face, was a brief glimmer of amusement in his eye. This spark suddenly died - and then he was studying me. Thinking, deciding, calculating; and I was too busy ranting to pay much attention to what he could be plotting... "Fuck your petty, bullying threats. Fuck your stupid, stupid friends. Fuck your poxy little piece of Jewellery and fuck- oh god---!"

Sometimes when things get wet in the rain they start to crumble and fall apart, under the pressure. That's exactly what happened to the breaking mask of Draco Malfoy when his past threatened to drown him. To push him under the waters of his darkness and not let him rise up to breathe. Maybe she could help him. Maybe she could keep him afloat. Maybe he was not completely lost just yet. Or maybe, life had other plans that could plunge both of them into deeper, darker waters.

"You want to know what I taste like?" I say, leaving my mouth slightly open. I can feel Malfoy's breath on my lips. He doesn't answer, but his breath hitches as he looks down. "You really want to know?" "Just do it," Malfoy barks. "So I can have some fucking peace." "I taste. . ." I start, leaning in. Malfoy closes his eyes, his brows furrowing, and I chuckle at the agony of it. ". . . Like dirt. Mud, even. And does the Slytherin Prince really want to get his lips dirty?" --- This fanfiction is cringey. *Draco MalfoyxOC* *Mature Content* *Messy Ass Plot* *Theodore Nott Supremacy*

"Fuck, Evan," Draco groaned, tilting his head back. He looked back down at her, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips to her fingers. She was playing with herself with renewed enthusiasm, her face screwed up as she laid, splayed before him, on the common room couch. "Faster, babygirl." Draco froze in horror, slamming the breaks. He stared at Blackwood as if she had just spontaneously combusted before his eyes. Wait-what in the flying fuck did he just call her?! - - - Sequel to Fuckboy, Draco's POV. This is more cringey than the first one. *DracoMalfoyxOC* *SlytherinShenanigans* *Whywontdracojuststfu?*