Drarry Oneshots (Angsty)

Intoxication

A/N: Long one to celebrate (belatedly) 25k reads

Warning: Lack of consent implied/drugging

My back is pressed against a hard, stone wall, my hands pinned above my head, and yet I have never felt safer. I'm warm, welcomed, wanted, there are soft lips on top of mine. I moan as a tongue enters my mouth, my eyes shut tightly in pleasure. I have never been kissed like this before.

There are fireworks in my stomach—my heart is a sparkler, fizzing and hissing, shining bright light into the very core of my being. An ecstasy like no other, why have I never experienced this before?

I find that I like being dominated; it's nice to relinquish control for a bit, forget about being the strong hero everyone expects me to be. I'm hopelessly lost in this moment, my sense of touch heightened whilst all the others seem to melt away into oblivion. My memory too, gone. I doubt that I can even remember my age.

I feel drunk on lust, on longing, on the sheer desire of those lips to keep moving and biting, bruising my lips in a gorgeous caress. I groan even louder as one strong hand moves from my wrists to my hair, and pulls harshly, my scalp and crotch tingling simultaneously with the action.

And then...and then there are teeth on my neck, nibbling and sucking on my sweet spot. I can't stop the noises coming from my mouth as I dissolve, helpless against my burning need. I can't hold myself upright for much longer.

"I love you," I choke out, "l-love you s-so much." There is no reply, only an increase in the pace that purple bruises are left around my throat.

"D-do you l-love me too?" I ask apprehensively. I think I would break should the answer be 'no'.

"Of course, baby," comes the sweet, honeyed voice that I covet, like a bee to flowers. I am reassured by the words, and grin stupidly at the pet name.

My mind is cloudy, the past unclear. I can't remember how I got here, or why, but I can't complain. I am in love. Truly and deeply in love. I never want to leave this embrace, this dream-like state, in which the man of my dreams finally, finally kisses me.

It's strange that this morning I was convinced I was destined to be with Ginny Weasley forever. What an earth I ever saw in her, I'm not sure. Why did I play with ginger hair, fiddling and braiding the strands, as she lay in my lap in the Gryffindor common room? What did I like about her freckles, her laugh, her smile? Nothing now, not when I have him. How quickly one's affections can shift from one to another.

"Draco..." I breathe, "D-Draco..."

He chuckles. It's melodic and beautiful and completely mesmerising. I have fallen, and fallen swiftly. He makes me feel stupid, unaware of my surroundings, like an angel on cloud nine.

I am completely infatuated.

*. *. *. *. *.

I was weak, a coward, afraid. It takes great strength to stand up to the Dark Lord, something that I've never possessed. It wasn't hard for him to exploit my secrets—it never is.

Dishonour upon my family, shame upon my father, that's what he said. This is his punishment, his revenge, for that night at the Ministry, when my father failed his mission. I have never seen such tempestuous rage as on that eve, when we knelt before him and writhed on the ground in agony.

It wasn't enough.

What better way to torture someone than through their heir? It is perhaps even more painful to watch as your loved ones are destroyed, than if it was you yourself. It couldn't have been any easier to get ahold of me if he'd tried, and then use me like a pawn in his sick game, tearing me apart to exact vengeance on my whole family.