wow

A\N: This is not related to the books or movies.

The dimly lit dungeon corridor echoed with the sharp click of Draco's polished shoes as he stormed toward the Slytherin common room. His jaw was set, his platinum hair tousled from the night's events at the Great Hall. He had managed to keep his cool all evening, biting back the storm brewing under his skin. But now, alone in the shadows, the restraint he prided himself on was hanging by a thread.

His mind flashed back to her—how she'd been flirting with that idiot from Ravenclaw, laughing too loudly at his pathetic jokes. She had done it on purpose; Draco knew it. She always did this, pushing him right to the edge, playing her little games, knowing full well how tightly wound he was.

He could still feel the burn of his anger simmering beneath his skin. But it wasn't just anger. It was something else—something far more dangerous, something that made his blood run hot and his pulse quicken every time he looked at her.

"You can't just storm off like that, Draco," a voice interrupted his thoughts, low and taunting.

Draco's body stiffened at the sound, every muscle tensing as though she had struck a nerve. Slowly, he turned to face her. She stood casually leaning against the stone wall, her robes loose around her shoulders, exposing more skin than was proper for this hour of the night. The faint torchlight flickered over her features, casting shadows that made her look both ethereal and deadly.

Her eyes gleamed with that same wicked amusement he had come to expect. It was a look that both infuriated and enticed him. She pushed off the wall, her movements slow, deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I'm not in the mood for your games," Draco hissed, though his voice lacked the coldness he intended. His eyes betrayed him, flickering over her, catching on the exposed skin at her throat, the curve of her waist. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to anchor himself. She was trouble—she'd always been trouble—but Merlin, he couldn't seem to stay away.

She smirked at him, stepping forward, her shoes barely making a sound against the stone floor. "Who said anything about games? I thought you liked it when things got... interesting."

Her voice dripped with mischief, and before he could stop himself, Draco took a step closer to her. The air between them felt charged, like the static before a storm. He could feel his resolve crumbling, slipping through his fingers with every second that passed.

"You've got no idea what you're doing, do you?" he said, his voice rougher now, the heat in his chest spilling into his words. "You think this is just fun for you?"

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening as she stepped closer, her body brushing lightly against his. He inhaled sharply, his control hanging by a thread. "Maybe I'm not the one who's out of control, Malfoy."

Something inside Draco snapped. In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her hard against him. Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away—instead, she smirked, eyes locked on his, daring him to push further.

"You think you can just tease me and walk away?" His voice was low, dangerous now, every word vibrating with pent-up frustration. "You've been playing this game for weeks."

Her gaze flickered down to his lips, her breath coming quicker, but her confidence didn't waver. "And you've been pretending you're above it," she shot back, her tone defiant. "But we both know you're not."

For a second, they stood there, the tension between them electric, suffocating. Then, before he could think, before he could stop himself, he crashed his lips against hers, his grip tightening on her waist as he pulled her closer. She gasped against his mouth, her fingers immediately tangling in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

It was nothing like the first time he had imagined it—nothing soft or slow. This was a battle of wills, fierce and unrelenting. Every brush of her lips against his only made him want more. His hands roamed over her back, fingers digging into the fabric of her robe as though he could pull her even closer.

She pushed back, her hands slipping under his jacket, nails grazing his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sent a jolt of heat through him, and he growled, breaking the kiss for a moment, his lips hovering over hers, his breath hot against her skin.

"You drive me insane," he muttered, his voice raw and husky. His eyes searched hers, dark and dilated with the same desire that was coursing through him.

She didn't flinch. If anything, she looked more determined, her lips curving into a challenging smile. "And yet you can't stay away, can you?"

Her words sent a fresh wave of frustration and desire crashing through him. Draco's hand slid up, gripping the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Shut up," he growled, before capturing her lips again, this time even more demanding.

Her response was immediate—she kissed him back with just as much fervor, her body pressing flush against his, heat radiating from her. It was intoxicating, the way she responded to him, the way she pushed back, matching his intensity with her own.

They stumbled back, her back hitting the cold stone wall with a thud, but neither of them cared. His hands were everywhere—her waist, her hips, her thighs—as if he couldn't decide where to touch her first. She moaned softly into his mouth, and the sound sent a thrill through him.

His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, biting and nipping at the delicate skin. Her head fell back, giving him more access as her fingers tugged at his shirt, desperate for more contact. "Draco," she whispered, and the sound of his name on her lips, breathy and wanton, nearly unraveled him.

He pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy, eyes blazing as he looked at her. She was disheveled, her hair wild, lips swollen, and eyes dark with desire. It was a sight that nearly undid him, but he wasn't finished with her yet.

"I told you, you have no idea what you're getting into," he murmured, his voice low, a hint of danger still lingering.

Her lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. "Maybe I like not knowing."

Draco's eyes flashed do, and in an instant, he was on her again, pressing her harder against the wall, his hands sliding up under her robes, exploring the smooth skin beneath. Every touch was a silent claim, a reminder that despite their constant sparring, despite the games they played, there was no denying the pull between them.

This was more than a game now—this was a reckoning, a surrender to the desire that had been building for far too long. He started unbuckling his belt and then grabbed her head by her hair and shoved it forward making her suck on his cock. Her warm mouth around his her tounge swirling on the inside felt amazing. He immediately squirted everything inside of her mouth not able to hold back. She swallowed all of it and they passed out next to each other.

A\N: Uhhh be sure to vote...