Hades Harry & Demon Harry

AU Pt. 1

AU Pt. 2

POC Reader, Plus Size Reader & Famous Reader

Series

Sub Harry, Breeding Kink & Anal

Older Harry & Inexperienced Reader

Weddings, Proposals & Honeymoons

Angst, Angst to Smut & Cheating

Fratboy Harry, Boxer Harry & CEO Harry

Dom/Daddy Harry & Subspace Reader

Dad (& To Be) Harry & Single Parent

Fluff & Smut

Friends To Lovers

Smut

Angst To Fluff

Fluff

In My Feelings Part Five

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN PEEPS!!! this entire part takes place on halloween! tonight! warning: half of this is unedited because i ran out of time, but i will come back tomorrow and edit it! im also going to add the exact fit/costume links later–im sorry im already running so late!

what it is: you and harry hate one another but that doesn’t stop you from fucking

warning: choking, cursing–i always feel like warnings can ruin the like, surprise or spoil the smut so im telling u now, if choking is too much for you, the other shit in this will not be for u either so read at ur own risk :)

word count: 16k

pls pls pls reblog if you liked it!

i’d love to hear your feedback :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

here we go:

October 31, 2020

A soft hum echoed in Harry’s throat as his eyes fluttered open. His left arm was half asleep where it was tucked under his pillow and his expensive sheets were warm against his chest. He shivered slightly when he felt the cold air on his bare back, where his comforter didn’t reach and felt something heavy on his right arm. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked over, slightly surprised to find you there on your side, hugging his arm, your forehead on his shoulder as you continued to sleep. 

As much as he didn’t want to wake you, his left arm was going numb and he couldn’t comfortably be on his stomach any longer. Harry started to turn his body over very slowly, using his left arm to prop him up as he turned towards you. He carefully wiggled his arm out of your grasp so that he could drape it over your waist as he settled back down. He let out a small breath of relief when you released a contented sigh and snuggled further into him. 

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between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.” 

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind. 

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you  knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

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Preview: Till Death (Halloween one shot)

…in which Y/N and Harry share a flat but he cannot see her.

Full chapter: October 24, 2020 (Patreon) and October 31, 2020 (Tumblr).

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.

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“Oh, you’re home!” she said as he shut the door and kicked off his shoes. His hair was a mess. His eyes were dark and weary. He leaned against the wall and released a long, heavy sigh with his eyes pinched shut.

“Trouble at work?” she asked. He didn’t answer. He never did. But it was okay. She was used to it.

She watched him trudge toward the couch and slump into it with his head buried in his hands. It was so quiet. It was always quiet here, and most of the time, the silence was comforting. She liked it. After all, it was all she ever knew. But she also liked his laugh and his voice when he talked on the phone. He never talked to her. He was a great listener though, and she liked to talk anyway, so she had nothing to complain about. He never interrupted her, never gave his comments; he only listened. Just like he was doing now.

He rested his head back on the couch with an arm over his closed eyes. She sat down beside him, her legs together, her hands on her knees.

“Guess what I did today,” she said.

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𝐶𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑅𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑜 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑌𝑜𝑢

𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑦 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

“𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑥 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛. 𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟.

~

“𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑏𝑦𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑖𝑡, 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜,” 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟. 𝑇𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦.

“𝐼’𝑚 𝑎𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑠𝑜, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦.”

“𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑦. 𝑊𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛,” 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜. “𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔?”

“𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒,” 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘.

“𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒,” 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑦. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚. “𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒,” 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒.

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜’𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠. 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦, “𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒,”

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑡𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚.

~

𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼’𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡!

unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness??? 

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.2K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

UNREQUITED PLAYLISTS (SEND ME SONGS!)

-

PART 12

Draco didn’t realize you never returned those words until he saw you flinch when he said it. 

The two of you were outside in the meadows, watching the leaves grow on the branches of the trees. It’s been a good week for Draco. He only woke up in the middle of the night three times this week and he fell asleep only an hour after waking. He didn’t tell you that, though. He’s been trying to stay away from you during those hours of the night, afraid that you were going to grow tired of him, or worse already growing tired of him. He would often just lay in bed, eyes closed, counting backwards from 100 while holding his finger that housed the ring you gave him. It worked, although sometimes he had to repeat his counts. 

But he began to miss you beside him. He was always cold at night and you were always so warm when you cuddled into his side. Whenever you were next to him, he found no use for the blanket on the corner of the bed. You were enough. You were more than enough. 

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i loved this sm!! you're an amazing writer

play pretend — draco malfoy

No matter how much Draco tried to deny it, part of her had always known that unwanted feelings lingered. Feelings from the past that should have been left there but weren’t—feelings that shone through during the most intimate moments; underneath bed covers, when Astoria’s name would slip past his lips instead of hers, or afternoons spent out by the garden when she would catch his eye and find him looking at her in a way that made it so painfully obvious that he was trying to find something in her that he could love.

The first time his and [Y/N]’s families had ever met, Narcissa Malfoy had pulled her away from the dining table to tell her in a voice of caution about a girl named Astoria Greengrass; the very same one Draco had fallen in love with during his time at Hogwarts. The girl came from a wealthy family, but one that was not wealthy enough—her blood was pure but her name not as well-respected as that of the Malfoys’ (word had leaked of an early ancestor having married a Muggle). Simply put, she was, though close to it, not good enough for Draco. The history of her family line and her insufficient wealth just couldn’t make the cut; Astoria Greengrass wasn’t good enough to wed into the Malfoy family—regardless of how much Draco claimed to have felt for her.

And so Astoria and Draco’s story ended with tragedy; with separation and arranged marriages to anyone but each other. Astoria wedded a man of her status; someone who could afford to marry her, and Draco to [Y/N], who had never known love until she met him—the very person who couldn’t feel the same for her.

She’d wedded Draco fully aware that mutual feelings of affection were the last of any of their families’ concerns. As long as no Muggle blood besmirched each others’ family trees and the purity of blood was carried on further into newer generations, petty things like love hardly mattered.

Except somewhere along their forced time together in a lonely manor by the countryside—a dowry from her family to the Malfoys—[Y/N] began to look at Draco as less of the man who had been forced into marriage with her and more of a man she could learn to love. And so she did; she learned and loved and found a comfort in him that she had never been expecting to. It took time, yes, but once she took that courageous step and the floor gave out underneath her feet and she fell for Draco faster than she could even blink, she couldn’t stop.

Because once you start to love someone, you are done for. You won’t be able to pull yourself back out.

Maybe that’s why Draco can’t forget that one Astoria Greengrass. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite look at [Y/N] the way she wants him to. Maybe it’s why, when [Y/N] foolishly tells him “I love you” in hopes that maybe this time he’ll say it back, he doesn’t.

[Y/N] wants to be angry. She wants to be able to grasp Draco’s shoulders, shake him to his senses and scream at him to forget Astoria, you can never have each other but you have me and I love you and I want you to be able to say the same for me so please just let go of her. But to set her pride aside and ask something like that of him takes plenty of courage—courage that [Y/N] isn’t entirely sure she has.

So she sits and pretends like everything is fine. Tells herself that the man she loves loves her back when she knows he doesn’t. And he knows it too.

Playing pretend—she’s gotten quite good at it over time.

—

When Draco holds her at midnight and presses himself close to her, it’s like he’s trying to imprint himself onto her very skin, trying to ingrain part of himself onto every inch of her body he can reach. And in a way, he does, in patches of faint red and purple and dark blues that mark her skin wherever his lips go.

They almost never talk at night. They’re much too busy wrapped up in each other’s arms and legs to bother with words. [Y/N] threads her fingers through his hair and pulls him in and Draco kisses her so hard it’s like he’s trying to make up for everything that he can’t give her; kisses with passion that isn’t quite driven by love but rather desperation for something—someone—he can’t quite have.

And it hurts because [Y/N] knows that when Draco groans into her mouth and tightens his grip on her waist and glides his lips down her skin, it’s not her face in his head. And it’s not her name that leaves his lips, either, when the night progresses and they are drunk in one another’s touch.

But [Y/N] is okay with it—or so she tells herself.

She has Draco. She’s happy. She loves him, even though he doesn’t. She is happy.

She has to be.

—

Jealousy.

That’s what [Y/N] feels.

[Y/N] has never met Astoria Greengrass but she is pathetically jealous of her. She is jealous of everything about Astoria that Draco fell in love with, whatever that might be. And it’s ridiculous because she doesn’t even know what she looks like or how she is; all that [Y/N] knows about her is that she must truly be something else to have captured Draco Malfoy’s heart and to still have it in her hands after all of this time.

An arranged marriage and a year forced apart—you’d think that that would be enough for Draco to move on.

They’ve been together for a while. Draco still looks at her like he’s not really seeing her. He doesn’t love her, and [Y/N] isn’t exactly sure he ever will. Every day she wakes and hopes that by some miracle he has opened his eyes and has begun to finally see past the future she knows he still fantasizes about with Astoria, but that is yet to happen. For now [Y/N] is helplessly in love with a man who has his heart set on someone else.

And at some point she has become angry, but not at Draco nor the woman he loves—no, she is angry at herself. She catches sight of herself in the mirror and hates what is staring back at her. She goes up to her reflection and frowns and contemplates what it is she’s missing. If the sight of her own face is revolting to herself, then it is no doubt that others feel the same way—including Draco—and is that why he can’t love her? Because of how ugly she is? Or is it how she acts? How she speaks, how she laughs, how she smiles, how she is?

Whenever Draco disappears to “clear his head” and [Y/N] is left alone, she finds that the manor is too small to hold the vast amount of nothingness spilling out of her at the seams, so she goes out into the highest balcony that overlooks the sea and breathes in as much of the salty breeze as she can until the feeling in her chest doesn’t quite feel as suffocating anymore.

It’s not the marriage she’d been hoping for all of those years ago when she was a naive child who believed in fairy tales and happy endings. But at the very least, she loves. And she is grateful to Draco for allowing her to know what that feels like, even when he can’t quite give it back to her.

—

But hearts are made of soft things, tissue and blood and muscle. Things that break and wound easy. Things that tend to scar instead of heal. There is only so much you can do until a human reaches breaking point and their heart gives away, and [Y/N] finds herself one Thursday evening with blood dripping down her knuckles and shards of glass scattered on the floor.

“What happened?” Draco’s voice is soft, imploring, almost loving but not quite. It’s always almost. Almost what [Y/N] wants. Almost how a husband should love his wife. Almost.

“Tripped,” [Y/N] winces. Draco kneels down in front of her from where she’s sitting on the toilet, hands gently caressing her own to inspect her blood-smattered knuckles. It’s a terrible excuse; how do you trip and punch a mirror?

But Draco doesn’t question it, and [Y/N] doesn’t have to tell him that she’d looked into the mirror and despised what she saw so much that she’d been overcome by an irrational anger and began to beat her fists against her own reflection until the glass splintered and the skin of her wrists did so along with it.

Draco tells her to wait, so she does, sitting in the cold bathroom by herself with blood dripping down her knuckles onto the floor until Draco comes back with a cloth in one hand and a pouch of healing ointments in the other. Once he’s cleaned up the mess on the floor, he kneels in front of her again and, quietly, gently, he begins to wipe the blood from her hands.

“Does it hurt?” Draco murmurs. His brows are drawn in the middle in a slight frown as he tries his hardest not to press too hard. He pauses and looks up at her, and his eyes are gentle, almost loving. Almost.

[Y/N] forces out a painful laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

A smile tugs on the edges of Draco’s lips. “As expected.”

Then he quietly resumes nursing her wounds, and [Y/N] doesn’t realize that she has started crying until she tastes the tears on her lips. Draco notices but doesn’t say anything.

And because she is pathetically in love and she wants him to feel the same, when the cuts on her wrist have been bandaged and Draco is tucking away all of the tubes of ointment in his pouch, saying something about being more careful the next time (even though the both of them know fully well that her tripping was an excuse), [Y/N] tries again and says, “I love you.”

Draco freezes for nothing more than a split-second, but [Y/N] notices—her gaze is fixed on him intently, helplessly trying to gauge a reaction that part of her knows won’t come. But she wishes it would.

Her wishes are unheard. Draco nods, turns his head just a fraction of an inch to look at her out of the corner of his eye, and offers her a sad smile.

Almost.

—

“No, listen to me, Draco—I am TIRED!”

“And you don’t think I am?”

“I know you love her—Merlin, of course I know, I see it every time you look at me—but I’m asking you to try to love m—”

“You say it like it’s easy.”

There is a sob rattling in the back of her throat. [Y/N] swallows it back down and turns away from Draco like he hasn’t already seen the absolute mess of tears on her cheeks.

Draco stares out of the window, jaw taut and his fists clenched so tight at his sides his knuckles have gone a ghostly white.

“I knew we were getting married but I never expected much beyond a sealed contract and an agreement between our families—I never expected to fall in love with you but I did so here I am now asking you to do the same for me.”

A beat of silence. “You’re not her.”

Another swallowed sob. A brand new fissure in her heart that joins the thousands of others. “I’m sorry.”

More silence. Then: “I am too.”

And then Draco leaves first, because he always does.

—

Their fights don’t last long. Days follow and Draco and [Y/N] go about as they always do, pretending like the gaping void between them isn’t there. Whenever night comes, Draco will roll over and press a quiet kiss to the back of [Y/N]’s shoulders, snake one hand around her waist, and whisper I’m sorry, and [Y/N] will turn and drag her lips against his until Draco captures them in his own and they are stuck in that endless loop of want again.

Draco kisses the breath out of her and she kisses him back. Kisses him enough to make up for those few terrible minutes of anger she’d accidentally let loose days ago. Kisses him with love, with passion—with everything Draco doesn’t have.

When she gasps for air and Draco pulls away and trails his lips down her neck, leaving a trail of what feels like pure flame behind in his wake, she digs her nails into his shoulders and holds him in place. In a strained voice she says: “Look at me.”

He doesn’t. Draco kisses her throat and against her will she sucks in a desperate, shuddering breath, and the air sounds like Draco’s name. “Look at me, Draco,” she repeats, fingers pressing into his skin more insistently.

This time he stops and pries his lips away from her skin and hovers over her, eyes searching hers.

“When you’re with me,” she begins, eyes dark, breath coming quick, “I want to be the only one inside your head. I want you to look into my eyes and see only me.”

His grip on her waist tightens; her hands twist unsteadily in his hair, gaze clearing just a tiny bit as she says, “Please.”

And then he is dipping down to kiss her again, lips parted, breath rough. Somewhere in between their almost frantic kisses he whispers a response, and [Y/N] is much too lost in the feeling of his skin on hers but she thinks that Draco might be breathing words into her skin. They sound like apologies—sound like I’m sorry, sound like Astoria.

[Y/N] throws her head back as Draco brushes his lips over the curve of her collarbones and whispers something audible this time, and this time it sounds like I’ll try. Feels like hope. Feels like a door opening to something.

Feels, for the first time, something more than almost.

arranged

okay so this was originally going to be a blurb for a request, but i got carried away and decided to post as a full fic. i’m a bit surprised because i was really nervous to write draco and angst, but i got into it and i think i’m pretty happy with the finished product

notes: draco x pureblood!reader, draco x oc, angst, fake dating, arranged marriage

words: 3.7k

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“Hello love, did you hear?” Draco called to you as you walked across the courtyard. You kept your head down, knowing he’d gotten a letter from his parents, and it was likely similar to the one you received from your mother at breakfast. Your pace quickened so Draco wouldn’t be in earshot of the rest of your classmates when he reached you.

“You’re going to ignore me?” He sneered from only a few feet behind you. In a moment, he had fallen into step beside you, but his voice was still loud when he repeated, “You’re going to ignore your future husband?”

The murmurs of nearby classmates were blocked out by the feeling of blood rushing to your face as you stopped and made deadly eye contact with Draco. Before you could hurl an insult at him, he turned to you with his signature smirk and coldly said, “So you have heard. Mother and Father have picked you out for me.” His upper lip curled as he spoke.

As much as you wanted to smack that smirk off his face, you refrained and instead took a slow step closer to him. Your voice was a low whisper, so only he could hear, “If you think I can’t make your life a living hell, think again. I don’t want this, and, seeing the way you look at that Muggle-born girl in Charms, I’d guess you don’t want this either. We might as well not make this any more excruciating than it already is.”

You took note of the angry breaths puffing his chest out and fanning hot breath across your cheeks. Before he could respond though, you spun on your heel and marched off. Once you were a few yards away, you called over your shoulder, “Such a shame. I’d hoped my parents would have better taste.” His jaw was clenched with rage and you didn’t even try to stifle a sickly sweet laugh.

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Learning to Swim

Request: (whenever you have time of course.) What about a post-war draco malfoy x reader where after astoria dies draco and scorpius are left alone for a couple years then he sees y/n a friend from Hogwarts and they fall in love again (you can decide how). this is my vision and I’m a sucker for post-war fics with draco. 🥺💕 - @obx-beach

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Thank you so much for requesting it and for trusting me with your request! It got away from me but I really wanted to explore this idea in depth because for me, anyway, grief isn’t something that disappears over time, but rather, becomes bearable. Please read the warnings before reading, I cover some heavy topics. As always, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy talk of grief and loss, some swearing, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, mentions of ghosts, a very cheesy ending.

Word count: 11.9k

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some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

Born to Wed

Summary: The Malfoys find a suitable wife for their son, Draco, and they experience Hogwarts together.

Words: 10.5K

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Requested: LOL I don’t get requests

Warnings: None

From the day you were born, your fate was decided. You, a Nott, were to be married to another Pureblood. You were to follow in your parents’ footsteps, study their sacrifices to the Dark Lord and learn from them. From the very day you were born, your life was planned for you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

A mere six weeks before your grand arrival, the Malfoy family was blessed with their own miracle. A boy, Draco Malfoy, who only weighed a whopping 7lbs and 7oz. He arrived with a thin layer of white-blond hair and the greyest eyes that his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had ever laid her own brown eyes on.

At the announcement of your arrival, Lucius Malfoy had appeared at your father’s doorstep and the deal was done. You, only two hours old, were to marry the six-week-old Draco Malfoy when you were both of age.

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42 Hours

Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time

Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 20k 

A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys.  I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite​ (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3

{masterlist}

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law.  Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her.  The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time.  She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.

“Always look both ways before crossing the street.  Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”

“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”

All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl.  Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years.  To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning.  And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume.  However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.

Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.

“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law.  Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.  When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”

Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things.  The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.

It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.

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“harry’s stylist, right?” part II

this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))

and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this

Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it

part 1

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Keep reading

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I’ve been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

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Keep reading

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I’ve been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

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Keep reading

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I’ve been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

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Keep reading

By Morning

A/N: this is literally just something I really resonate with and I wish I had a significant other to take care of my when my spirals of depression get bad bc they always make me feel lonely, so enjoy this little comfort piece. Mentions of anxiety, depression, panic attacks.

WC: 2,638

“I just…” her shaky voice starts, lips trembling again as her chin juts. “I just r-really need you close, right now. Like, I can’t… I can’t c-cope at the minute and I feel s-so sad and—and I hate myself right now. I just n-need you close, please.”

Her broken plead ends in another flood of tears and Harry thinks this is what true heartbreak feels like. Hearing the love of your life tell you they hate themselves. Harry never wants to hear such a statement tear through her lips ever again.

“Okay, s’okay, baby. ‘M here, not goin’ anywhere, a’right?”

or

Y/N’s going through a rough patch and Harry knows just what she needs to feel better. 

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