the thing is like. i get that it's scary and makes people who do desire to get pregnant uncomfortable when we talk about the brutality and violence of pregnancy and the damage that pregnancy can do to your body
but you deserve to give informed consent to that process.
the lies around pregnancy - that it's inherently safe, that it doesn't do you permanent damage, that it's only extremely rare for people to die of pregnancy complications, etc like
all of these are lies constructed so that more people will get pregnant w/o knowing all that
there needs to be more talk about the impact of miscarriages and how common they are, how different abortion processes are and how accessible they are
but also like. talking about how pregnancy fucks your body up should not be taboo
this is a process that permanently changes most people's bodies, and that's even if the pregnancy doesn't do them like. severe illness or injury
and i just think everybody should have a right to KNOW that
bc to live in a society that intentionally obscures and hides facts about a completely optional and dangerous process does so for a reason, and that reason is based in a very sinister ideology that does not value bodily autonomy or informed consent
Here is a story about the depths to which pregnant people are seen as a vessel for a baby, and the importance of finding prenatal care that assumes you are a human and not a baby holder:
When I was pregnant I was in a million forums for pregnant people because (cough adhd hyperfixation) and I had something called SPD (Symphysis pubis dysfunction) (not Sensory Processing Disorder though I also have that) which is where your pubic bones separate early (more or less) because they get all loosey goosey as your body gets ready to crank that baby out.
Except my pubic bone got confused and got misaligned at like 3 months pregnant. I could barely walk. I couldn't roll over in bed. Doing something that required me to shift my weight from one foot to another like opening a door knob was like an excruciatingly painful knife being stabbed into my pubic bone, I can't express how intense and blinding it was.
So I am in one million baby forums like "am I dying what is happening why is there a knife in my pubic bone" and all these people are like "I have that too! my doctor says it's normal and not to worry because it doesn't hurt the baby. I just deal with it by laying in bed for months in excruciating pain and think about how lucky I am to be having a little miracle growing in my body."
So lol nope. I went to my midwife and they are like, "Oh squeeze a can between your knees look up a physical therapy youtube on SPD" and I did that can-squeeze thing and it CURED THE PROBLEM in ONE DAY. I had been SUFFERING, y'all, it felt miraculous.
And I was so full of rage (flames, flames on the side of my face) that people are being told "Oh, it's NORMAL just deal with it" "It doesn't hurt the baby." Like, look, yes it's NORMAL but it's 100% treatable!!! SPD (again, not Sensory processing disorder) affects 1 in 5 pregnant people.
I was lucky to have amazing midwives (need a gender neutral term for that profession, but they see pregnant men and women)(side note highly recommend midwives if you are gender nonconfirming/a man/etc) and I have DOZENS of examples of shit like this.
(Another example is post partum friends being like "oh I am peeing my pants 900x day after giving birth" and my doctor says it's NORMAL so I just dealt with it for decades. My midwives were like "Oh that's normal and also physical therapy cures that in like 2 sessions")
When my sister was looking to get pregnant she was given the best advice. She was told that being pregnant is an experience akin to being in a moderate sized car crash, in terms of risk and lasting injury.
Some people in moderate car crashes are very lucky, and walk away with zero injury. Some are very unlucky, and die. But most people fall into the third category, where they'll be injured at the time, then heal, and then for the rest of their life they have some minor and liveable complication from the injury. Like a knee that lets you know when the rain is coming, or a back that doesn't like seats without lumbar support, or a shoulder that never quite gets its full range of motion back.
The vast majority of people survive and thrive, like. But their body is never the same again. And people should know that when they make the choice of whether to put their body through that or not
my mom had a complication postpartum that caused pain and swelling in her left leg. at the time she was told it was "milk leg" and that it was normal and she'd be fine, but it never went away or got better. she finally found a doctor recently who was willing to do some tests and found out it's a condition called "May-Thurner syndrome" and had surgery to fix it
she's been suffering with this since she gave birth to me. I'm 38 years old. she had that surgery last week.
there needs to be more dialogue about the things your body goes through during pregnancy. "that's normal" or "everyone goes through that" need to stop being used to shut down conversations about the horrific, permanent damage that can be done to bodies during pregnancy and childbirth. just because it's "normal" doesn't mean it needs to be endured
Naming the female razor brand Venus is so personally offensive to me....you think Venus the goddess of love and sex and beauty was shaving her PUSSY? Go kill yourself
Anytime I get attached to a character or actor who is single, like get a lil crushy crush, and then they end up dating someoneā¦ I feel cheated on like actually mad because now I canāt imagine being together because he is takenā¦ like he litterally just cheated on me, oml.
a/n: although this exactly wasn't the idea, this was still inspired by @just-another-godless-god and i want to thank you for that. also, idk how i went from wanting to write a cute proposal thingy to this. but enjoy, i've written after so long.
pairing- draco malfoy x reader
All the voices faded out in the background when I looked at him. There he stood at the altar, in all his glory, a ravishing tuxedo hugging his body perfectly with his hair styled just the right way-neither too messy, nor too combed. His smile took my breath away, his dimples prominent and his eyes crinkled at the edges. But, as much as I wished he was, I wasn't the one he was smiling at.
Draco Malfoy stood there, stars shining in his eyes as he smiled at his witch. By the radiant smile he had on his face which could light up an entire room, no one could tell he was nervous. But I could. I have known Draco for enough time to tell when he is nervous, or happy, or sad. I could decipher all the emotions which swarmed through his mind and heart at any point of time, yet, it wasn't my place to do so anymore. No, it was Astoria's, who was currently walking down the aisle, arm looped in her father's and eyes drowned in all the emotions a bride would feel- happiness, nervousness and love. She looked utterly beautiful in her gown, like a goddess sent straight down from heaven.
As she reached at the altar, Draco helped her up, kissing her hand and whispering something in her ear which made her cheeks turn red. A sad smile made its way onto my lips. Oh how many times had I dreamt of this exact moment, wishing upon the stars, praying to the almighty, hoping that Draco and I had been the endgame. But, we weren't, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tuned everything out as the ceremony began, my thoughts taking me back to that one night when it all changed.
flashback
It takes years to build something, but it takes only one moment to ruin it, destroy it to pieces. In this case, it was my relationship and trust with Draco that took years to build and one simple sentence that destroyed it all-"I love you, but I am not in love with you anymore."
I looked at him in shock, my mind a whirlwind of emotions and questions. We were at the astronomy tower where Draco had called me to have a talk. I thought it would be our regular stargazing sessions where we ended up gazing at each other, however, little did I know, it was going to lead to something which wouldn't let us even look at each other anymore.
"Y/N, say something", he said, making me snap out of my thoughts. I looked at his pleading and tear-welled eyes, still not able to comprehend anything.
Then, out of nowhere, I spoke the one question that had been bugging my mind since that day, the day when they met, "Its Astoria, isn't it?" My question seemed to take him by surprise and for a moment I thought maybe I was wrong, until I saw the guilt settle in his eyes.
"Y/N, please believe me, nothing happened between me and her. Never in a million years would I even think of cheating on you. You are the perfect woman anyone could ever ask for, I-", I cut him off, my voice a breathy whisper.
"If I was so perfect, why did you even think about it? Was I not enough, Draco?". The droplets of grief and sadness had started making their way down my face.
"You are enough, Y/N, more than enough, so don't you even dare think for even a fraction of a second that it was your fault.", his voice wavered.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Then why? Why, Draco? Where did I go wrong? What is it that she has that I don't?"
He tried to reach for me but I took a step back. I didn't need him touching me. His face fell and the the tears finally started flowing down his eyes. Even in this situation, it broke my heart to see him cry. He looked down and closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself.
"I-I guess the flame doesn't burn anymore", he exhaled.
My breath hitched for a second, before I let out a breathy chuckle which seemed to surprise Draco. "I think I knew this was coming, deep down somewhere. I saw the way you looked at Astoria the first time you met her, like she was magnificent. But, I always pushed that feeling away. You know why, Draco? Because I trusted you, I trusted you my life but I guess I was wrong, so so wrong.", The silent tears had turned into sobs, both his and mine.
"I am sorry, Y/N, so fucking sorry. I never meant for her to affect-", I cut him off yet again by shaking my head, speaking between my sobs.
"You are not sorry, Draco. You are not one bit sorry for liking her, you're only sorry because we are ending and honestly, I don't trust you enough now to know that you are sorry in the first place." I can tell the words struck Draco right in his heart and I almost apologized. He opened his mouth to say something but I didn't let him. I couldn't handle anymore of it.
"Leave", I whispered. "I need some time alone". He began to protest but I held my hand up and looked at him. "Please." I guess he could tell by my expression that I couldn't stand looking at him anymore, hence, he nodded and headed down the stairs.
flashback ends
As much as I wished to forget it, I still vividly remember the following weeks. Endless nights of crying in my bed, wondering where I went wrong. Endless days of looking in the mirror wondering if I wasn't pretty enough. Endless questions that rotated in my mind like a tornado. How I spend days, weeks, months even, wondering what would have happened if she hadn't been there, if things went differently. I still wonder what would happen if that night never happened. Would it be me instead of Astoria at the altar?
Suddenly, as if remembering the ceremony, all the voices started coming back in. I watched as the priest asked him that one question, "Do you, Draco Malfoy, take Astoria Greengrass to be your lawfully wedded wife, to stand with her in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor her in all days of your life?"
Silver eyes meet mine and the world ceases to exist. I give him a small smile and a nod. He smiles back and looks at his witch, "I do." Tears start welling up again, and I try my best to not let them flow. These water droplets are a mere tool that tells you a person is grieving, however, it fails to tell you how much the person is grieving. I can't begin to even fathom the load that rests in my heart, yet, I can do nothing but deal with it.
The priest then turns to Astoria, "Do you, Astoria Greengrass , take Draco Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband, to stand with him in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor him in all days of your life?". She doesn't spend a moment to answer," I do".
"By the power vested in me by the god, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
It takes years to build something, but it only takes one moment to ruin it. This time, it was the walls that I had made that took 6 years to build and the scene of Draco kissing his wife to crumble it down. All the pain, the sadness, the heartbreak, the feelings I tried to numb came all crashing down, the only evidence being the tears that descended down like a river. I closed my eyes in order to stop them, but to no avail. I needed to get out of here.
third person pov
She made her way out, thinking no one would notice as she was standing at the very back. Oh how she was wrong.
She went out in the gardens, needing fresh air. She looked around, hoping no one would be there to see her in this miserable state before she completely broke down. She held onto the fence for support as she sobbed and sobbed, that was until she heard footsteps. She stopped crying altogether.
"Y/N.", she could recognise the voice anywhere. How could she not?
"Draco", she breathed while hastily wiping off her tears before turning around and giving him a fake smile, which he could see right through.
"Are you alright?", he ran a hand through his hair.
She chuckled and said ,"I guess?"
He took a deep breath and took ahold of her hand. They had become good friends eventually after the breakup. Even before their relationship, they had been in each others life for so long that the thought of not being there didn't sit well for both of them. He then began, "You were the first person who I ever felt anything for."
Before he could continue, Y/N shook her head and cut him off. She did not need this today, or ever for that matter, "Draco, stop.", her voice a whisper.
"You were there for me at all steps of my life", Y/N looked at their joint hands and tried to make him stop once more, "Draco-", to only be cut off.
"No, look at me", and so she did and then he began again.
"You were there for me in my best times and worst. You were there for me when I got the dark mark, when I was sick, heck, you were there for me even after I betrayed you! You took my broken self and made me a better version of myself, and I will always be grateful for that, even after my death. And most of all, I will be grateful because you chose to love me even at my lowest point, even after we ended things. You were there to hold me and make me stand on my feet even after the breakup. You could have simply walked away after what I did, but you chose to stay, and for that, I don't know how to thank you.", he took another deep breath before continuing, "You were my first everything, Y/N. My first kiss, first one to see me, the real me, and the first one to explore me in ways no one had ever before. You were my first love. You made me what I am today. You were the first person I ever fell in love with. A-and I think I'll always be a little in love with you no matter how much I try. There's a part of my soul that will always be yours. I knew this from the day we met, I will love you till the day I die, I will love you for an eternity and more and I wouldn't want it any other way. You are a part of me and always will be, whether you like it or not.", neither him nor Y/N realised what a mess they were by now.
"I think a part of me will always belong to you too, Draco. You were my everything, and even though we broke up, you will still remain a little something in my heart, no matter how much I try to suppress it or numb the feeling. And I guess this is our closure, the one we never got and never knew that we needed.", Y/N managed to choke out.
Draco just nodded and wrapped his arms around her, her head resting on his chest, right next to his thumping heart. He kissed her head and tightened his arms around her, trying to shush her sobbing self. "Y/N, as much as I enjoy this hug, you are ruining my shirt.", he joked, trying to lighten the mood, which only earned him a slap on the chest, which he sadly chuckled to. As much as he hated seeing her cry, he didn't tell her to stop. He knew she needed this, to let out the emotions and hence he patiently stood there, holding her.
After sometime, she calmed down and broke apart from his arms before looking at him and taking a deep breath. "We should go in there now", she nodded towards the gate.
He nodded and gave her a little smile which she returned with a genuine, sweet one. This in turn made Draco smile larger. Both of them then walked inside again, their hearts lighter and smile bigger.
One thing both of them learnt is no matter how much you want it, some stories just don't end the way you want them to. That no matter how much you desire something, it doesn't always happen. Y/N wished upon the starts that Draco and her end up together. Draco wished he would've never fallen for another. But wishing is praying for something to not happen that you don't want to happen. The stars she wished upon had no choice but to kneel before destiny. And as much as Draco didn't want it to happen, his fears did come true and he ended up betraying Y/N. They may blame themselves all the want, but it wasn't their fault. They didn't want it to happen, but it did however. And that's the part of life. You just have to accept it and move forward because you don't always get your way. That's what makes living hard. What they had was beautiful, and what they never had was even more tempting, but even things as good as their love had to end because it just wasn't there in their stars.
Healing is a part of moving on. Some people like Draco do it faster than others, however, a part of them never moved on from each other, never healed, and honestly, they didn't want it to for they were a part of each others existence.
As for Astoria, she knew a portion of Draco's heart will always belong to Y/N.
if youāre wondering why Iām having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are,Ā please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ā”
Draco x Hufflepuff gender neutral!reader
Heal Him
The great hall is filled with noise, as per usual at this time of day, and the indecipherable mixture of conversations between those around you is something that youāve grown so used to, itās almost comforting. A soft smile spreads across your face at the sound of your friends laughter, but you dont lift your gaze from the book youāre reading, and despite not being directly involved in the conversation, you dont feel distanced from your friends at all. They know how much you love to read at every chance you get, and what better time to read than while youāre eating?
However, upon the hall being slowly lowered into almost complete silence, you frown and glance up from your book, and your heart sinks at the sight. Draco Malfoy, appearing more disheveled than you have ever seen him, stands almost in the centre of the hall, staring at Harry Potter and Katie Bell, who had been mysteriously cursed, with a grief stricken expression. Anyone with sense could see the regret in Dracoās eyes, but perhaps everyone else was simply overcome by his actions, and the person he pretends to be, and so sense is something theyāre choosing to ignore. Draco being a Death Eater is no secret among those at Hogwarts, but the fact that he had no choice in the matter is something that everyone seems to have been made blind to. Everyone, except you.
Draco rushes out of the hall, and without sparing a second thought, you close your book and pass it to one of your friends, before standing from your table and speed walking after him, your friends watching you from the table with confused expressions. Continuing to follow Draco, with the intention of attempting to reassure him, you find yourself in the bathroom, watching from a few feet away as Draco begins to cry, his hands gripping the sides of one of the sinks. You take a step towards him and reach out a hand, but when Draco lifts his head and looks at his reflection in the mirror, he spins on his heel and stares down the other side of the bathroom with an expression of fear. Harry Potter had also followed him here, but evidently, neither of them were aware of your presence. Before you even had time to process what was going on, the two of them began throwing spells at each other in a brutal, dangerous battle, fuelled by anger and fear, but the fear only came from Draco. Acting on instinct, you hide yourself under the sink and cover your ears, as the pair of enemies fought around you.
After what feels like an eternity, their noise halts, and you open your eyes to see Draco standing mere feet away from you, staring down at you with a heartbroken, sorrowful expression. He tries to run to you, in an effort to get you out of the bathroom and save you, but, in doing so, he puts himself in Harryās direct line of fire.
āSectumsempra!ā
Draco collapses on the floor, a pool of blood immediately forming around him as his sobs echo through the bathroom.
You scream and scramble over to him, sobbing hysterically as you take ahold of his hand.
Harry stands a few feet away, stunned, and you point your wand at him with fire in your eyes. Closing your eyes tightly, you lower your wand slightly and cast a protection charm in a small circle around yourself and Draco. How are you supposed to heal him!?! You havent learnt a healing spell strong enough for this! It is then the memory of a particular spell floats back into your head, and your entire body relaxes. Pointing your wand at Draco, you start to heal his wounds, slowly bringing your wand up his body until it reaches his face.
"What are you doing?" Draco questions, his chest heaving from shock and panic.
"Do me a favour, Draco...after this, do something wonderful for someone." You tell him, smiling softly.
Leaning down, you capture his lips with your own, feeling the wounds tear through your body as the transferring spell passes all of his pain to you. Falling to the floor beside him, the room around you begins to spin, before it fades into complete darkness.
Your eyes slowly flutter open, your entire body feeling weighed down in the bed youāve found yourself in. Blinking rapidly, you come to terms with your surroundings. Youāre in the hospital, with Draco asleep in a chair at your side, and Professor Snape and Dumbledore standing at the foot of your bed. The professors ask you what happened, and you recall the events after you followed Draco to the bathroom: Draco and Harry engaged in a fight, Harry used a spell that he evidently didnt understand the damage of, and you used a transferring spell to save Draco.
Snape clasps his hands in front of himself, seeming to disbelieve you. āWhy would you, a Hufflepuff who doesnt even know Mister Malfoy, choose to save him?ā
You glance over to the sleeping Draco. āJust because he's misunderstood doesnt mean he deserves a fate like that. I've never seen a single person do anything nice for Draco, and I decided to change that."
Dumbledore raises an eyebrow. "You willingly performed that spell, knowing the consequences could mean the end of your life, in order to show someone kindness?"
Looking back at Dumbledore, you smile slightly. āI havent yet learnt a spell that would have been powerful enough to heal him in the state he was in, the only one I knew that could help was the one I performed, I was aware of the consequences of the charm, and I would perform it again in a heartbeat if I needed to. A soul as sad as Draco's deserves nothing less. Kindness heals people.ā
Dumbledore chuckles. "In this case, that is literal. Well, we shall leave you to rest now."
You raise your eyebrow questioningly. āDont you want to take Draco with you?"
Dumbledore shrugs. āHe refuses to leave."
Dumbledore then leaves the hospital wing, and Snape glides towards the door, before turning back to you. "What you did showed more bravery and foolishness than any Gryffindor I've ever seen, I'd never expect such a reckless sacrifice from a Hufflepuff...thank you, (Y/N)."
And with that, Professor Snape takes his leave, too.
Draco immediately stands to his feet, causing your body to jolt in surprise, having believed he was sleeping, when in fact the sneaky git was listening to every word of what you said.
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his black suit and avoids your eyes. āI dont deserve any kindness, especially not if it means you risking your life for me."
You sigh, watching as his expression shifts between guilt and anger, the latter most likely aimed at Potter.
āEveryone deserves kindness Draco, especially you. Just because you try to hide behind this emotionless, powerful facade doesnt mean I cant see right through you. It's okay to admit when you're scared."
Draco sits at the side of your bed and takes ahold of your hand, finally meeting your eyes. āThe most scared I've ever been is seeing you under that sink, and thinking you could potentially get caught in the crossfire, but you went and sacrificed yourself anyway."
You frown in confusion, suddenly remembering where you are. āDraco...how did I get here?ā
Draco smiles slightly, glancing down at his shoes. āI brought you here.ā His expression hardens āPotter offered to help carry you, but I could manage just fine on my own since you barely weigh a thing, and I wouldnt have let him touch you regardless.ā
Your cheeks flush pink, and you quickly try to regather yourself before Draco lifts his gaze again.
"How will you ever tell your friends that you were saved by a Hufflepuff?" You joke, shifting the subject.
"I wont." Draco answers simply.
āWhat?" Your stomach sinks just a little, is he going to forget what happened, and tell you to do the same?
To your surprise, Dracoās response is warm, and kind. āYou're not just a Hufflepuff, you're (Y/N)."
You cant help but smile at him, and as a memory returns to you, a giggle escapes your lips. āYou did what I asked of you, by the way.ā
Draco lifts an eyebrow curiously, but still smiles back at you. āWhat do you mean?"
You beam at him excitedly. āI told you to do something wonderful for someone, and you did, you saved me."
He scoffs. āI couldnt just let you die, of course I couldnt!"
At his response, you gently squeeze his hand, which is still holding yours. āThat doesnt sound like something a Death Eater would say."
Dracoās eyes widen in shock, and you cant help but grin at him.
"See? Kindness heals people!ā
Draco shakes his head dismissively, his own smile returning to his face as he meets your eyes again.
summary: It's your sixth year at Hogwarts and Draco has been acting different. The more he pushes you away, the more you try to hold on, but at what cost?
word count: 4.7k
warnings: SMUT (p in v, fingering), slight hair pulling, marking, Draco is a death eater, angst, drinking
a/n: I wrote this hoping it would be a one-shot, but now I'm potentially seeing a part two during/after the war...
He looks terrible when you glance up at him from across the Great Hall. Harry is buttering his toast next to you and you furtively lift your head to get a better look at Draco by the Slytherin table.
He's picking at his food and you wish you could say this is a new development, but he hasn't been himself all year. Your brows knit with worry as he drops his fork and dips his head down, as though the weight of it has tired him out. You never thought you'd be saying this, but you have found yourself missing his arrogance and elitist snipes ever since the turn in his demeanor.
Before your family denounced their ancestral connections to the ideology of blood purity, you had been a part of the Sacred 28, and that meant being a welcome dinner guest at the Malfoys' throughout your childhood. You and Draco hadn't always gotten along, but it never grew into anything more than silly insults or fruitless rivalries.
Draco stands up from his table suddenly, and your feet push into the ground, almost by instinct. Before you have a chance to follow his movements, he rushes out of the hall, his head dipping down as his robe swishes in his wake.
"Hey, you alright?" Hermione asks as your foot taps the floor impatiently.
"Yeah," you answer, your eyes still trained on where he disappeared out the doors. "I'll be right back."
You take your time walking past the tables, but when you're out of sight of your friends, you hasten your pace, practically running until you spot him at the end of the hallway.
"Draco," you call out after him, but he either doesn't hear you or he chooses not to slow his footsteps.
When you reach him, you grab his shoulder, trying to stop his movements, but he flinches under your touch, pulling back quickly.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, your breaths coming out in small pants. "I just wanted to see if everything was okay."
Draco reaches up to grab the back of his neck.
Okay?Ā he thinks to himself with something that sounds almost like a laugh.Ā Nothing will ever be okay again.
But he doesn't say that.
"I'm fine," he says shortly, his eyes glancing around like he's afraid you're being watched.Ā By who?
You don't know how to respond to something that is so obviously a lie, but you press on anyway. "You haven't been yourself since the summer."
He makes a small noise and it takes you a moment to realize it's supposed to be a scoff. "Maybe this is who I actually am."
This time it's you who wants to scoff, because if there's anything you can be certain of, it's that you know Draco Malfoy, through and through. You knew him when he was still the little boy trying to beat his own personal speed on his tiny broom and when he helped you steal a doll from a toy shop because your mother wouldn't buy it for you. But you also knew him when he got a slap to the face for talking back to his father and when he cried himself to sleep for a week because he disappointed his family at his first quidditch match.
Even when his family turned you away, you knew he hadn't. You knew that although you were supposed to be on opposite sides of an impending war, at least a part of him still cared about you. You also knew that you cared about him too.
"Am I really supposed to believe that?"
He just shrugs and it makes you want to scream. "I don't really care what you believe anymore."
He doesn't spare you a second glance before turning around and stalking away.
~~~
The winter chill hits its peak and you start to see less and less of Draco. Your friends don't understand your interest in his wellbeing but they also don't know the history you share. You would trust them with your life, but this was Draco's life and that was something else entirely.
The last snow of the year hits on a weekend trip to Hogsmeade, and you join Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they make their way down the small cobblestone road.
"I need a new broom," Ron complains, gazing wistfully into every shop you pass. "I also need a new wand."
Harry pats him on the back, shooting him an amused look and you can't help the laugh that bubbles up inside of you.
When you finally reach Three Broomsticks, Ron's complaints finally become achievable.
"A warm butterbeer sounds brilliant right now," he remarks, his eyes lighting up.
"That can be easily arranged," Hermione smiles, linking her arm through his as she pulls him into the shop.
Having never been a fan of butterbeer, you hang back, letting them all ahead of you. "You three go ahead. I'll grab a drink and come meet you here."
White flakes dance across your vision as you traipse down the street, your gloved hands burrowing deeper into your pockets as the cold stings your skin.
You're considering where to sit down when you see a telltale flash of blond through the windows of the Hog's Head. Draco's pale hair is stark against the black of his robes and a shiver runs through you as you watch him lean over his steaming mug.
The rush of warmth you expect when you push open the doors doesn't arrive, but it's still more temperate than the icy chill outside, so you cast off your gloves and take a seat beside him.
"I'll get a glass of mead," you tell the owner as you lean back in your rickety wooden chair.
Draco doesn't seem surprised when you turn to face him, but his eyes flash with a mix of amusement and anticipation. "I should've known you'd be a mead person. You were the only kid I knew who didn't like pumpkin juice."
You flash him a guarded smile and his eyes catch on the maroon flush that colors your cheeks. He had seen you through the window before you walked in, and when you opened the doors, he told himself it was a bad idea, especially with everything going on in his life, but he couldn't help but stay. He could never help himself when you were involved.
"I'm honestly not sure why I ordered one," you tell him, your eyes turning sad. "Maybe it's still on my mind after Ron was poisoned with a bottle of mead last week."
Draco shrinks back slightly, but you catch the movement before he can shake it off. He wasn't trying to hurt Ron when he sent Slughorn that bottle, but he also couldn't deny that Weasley wasn't someone he would've mourned.
But you would've cared. And in another life, that would have been enough to make him care too.
He's surprised when you reach forward to grab his hand, and he can tell that it wasn't something you had planned to do. You blush again, and he wishes that he could pull your body against his and shield you from the cold and whatever else is coming across the horizon, but that isn't something he gets to do anymore. Not since he made his choice.
"Do you remember when we were kids?" you ask suddenly, jerking him back to reality. "How we would sneak into my parents' shed and steal their brooms to practice while they were sleeping."
That's not what you really want to ask him, but a few childhood memories couldn't cause the damage you were afraid of causing if you dug any deeper.
You had such a crush on him when you first came to Hogwarts. The arrogant little boy who always got what he wanted. Everyone cast him away as a lost cause, but they didn't know what was underneath...what made him the way he was. The memories were at the edge of your subconscious and you could feel how close they were to teetering off into the void, especially with who he had become in the last year.
Draco, on the other hand, can remember everything from that time. He remembers the little girl who was too smart for her own good and how you always knew what he was thinking about, even before the thought entered his mind. He remembers your bushy pigtails and the way you always made your bed in the morning, just because it was something your mother taught you to do. He wonders if you still do.
"I suppose," he finally replies, seeing your fingers go slack against his palm. He can feel the disappointment emanating from you, but a little disappointment would never hurt as much as what was coming. What he was bringing in.
Your fingers slip down his hand and he relishes your touch, even though your skin is still icy from the snow, but when your hand reaches his sleeve, he jerks back.
You flinch too, more out of surprise than anything else, but he pulls his hands away and under the table too fast for you to notice anything awry. "Draco, what's wrong?"
"We aren't children anymore," he snarls, and it's like you can see the walls being built before your very eyes. The fortress that you always believed you had to keys to shuts right in front of you and his eyes glaze over without an ounce of recollection. "Whatever you think we are, you're wrong."
He stands up, his robes enveloping him like a dark cloud, and before you have a chance to respond, the door is swinging shut behind him.
~~~
When you open the door to Three Broomsticks, the atmosphere is much warmer than the Hog's Head. Laughter echoes around the pub and you feel a smile pull at your lips even after Draco's abrupt departure.
"Over here!" Ron's voice calls from behind the small staircase, and you follow it to find the trio with three butterbeers sitting in front of them.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Harry continues, motioning for you to take the seat next to him. "The Katie Bell incident and your poisoning have to be connected."
He had been on this train of suspicion for a while, but with each new event, he was getting more and more reckless with his theories.
"Harry, I'm not so sure-" Hermione starts, but he cuts her off, lifting his hand from the table as he gesticulates intensely.
"Both the cursed necklace and the poisoned mead were gifts from an unknown source," he emphasizes, looking at each of you intently, "and I think that source is Malfoy."
Your eyes snap to his and you quickly look down at the table before you give anything away. You remember how Draco flinched at the mention of Ron's ordeal, and you want to shake the thought away, but you can't.
It feels like a betrayal to ever consider this notion, but the change in his mood this year did strike you as foreboding.
Maybe Harry was right. Maybe the person you grew up with and cared for andĀ lovedĀ wasn't who you thought he was.
~~~
You don't see Draco for a few days after your disastrous Hogsmeade encounter, but it's not for lack of looking. Any suspicions you have about his wrongdoings this year are unfounded, and you aren't about to pin something on him without proof. Besides, you know him and you know he lashes out when he's in pain, and if this world had taught you anything, it was that someone pushing you away meant you just had to hold onto them tighter.
That time comes the following evening when you see Draco rushing into an abandoned bathroom on the second floor, his hair a mess and his shirt sticking to his skin.
Your friends have made it clear that they thought your interest in him was another symptom of your desire to fix everything, and with Harry hot on his trail with one theory or another, you were finding it hard to be around them all the time.
Draco is pressed up against the sink when you push the door open, his small sobs echoing around the room. Despair floods you with ice and you rush forward, desperate to doĀ something.
His skin looks paler than you have ever seen it, and when your hand comes forward to glide up his back, his skin feels clammy and cold.
"Please," you whisper, wishing he would share something with you. Anything. "Please let me help you. Whatever your family is doing to you can't go on forever."
You know that even if Harry was right and Draco really was twisted up in something dark, the source always went back to one place: his family. You grew up with a family that protected you, so if nothing else, you at least knew what love wasn't supposed to look like.
Nevertheless, it's the wrong thing to say, and he freezes, his breath slowing down instantly. He doesn't question your intentions, because if there's one thing he knows about you, it's that you'reĀ good, but Snape's words from earlier are still painted across his eyelids.
"I made the unbreakable vow."
He had been chosen for this. The Dark Lord had chosenĀ him, but even after he proved himself time and time again, they didn't believe he could do it.
"I don't want your help," he says, but instead of a sneer, it comes out more like a gasp. "Don't you understand? There's no out for me."
He can see you struggling to understand, but he can't afford to be more than vague. His family is relying on him. They are counting on him to do what his father couldn't, and he won't let them down. Not like they had.
So maybe he isn't a killer, but maybe he isn't what you think either.
You can feel the anguish in his words, and your throat thickens with tears threatening to escape. "There has to be something I can do."
"There isn't." He cuts you off forcefully, and you see the finality shining in his eyes as he turns to face the mirror again, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.
The mark on his wrist stings harshly in his skin and he looks down as you stalk out of the bathroom. It's supposed to feel right and he knows he's been chosen for something so much greater than himself, but he also can't help but feel likeĀ heĀ didn't get to choose.
You are much too good for him, and he can already feel himself corroding you with each whisper of his breath and glance of his fingers.
You grew up together and even when your families' ideas tried to tear you both apart, something had made him hold on. If he's fully honest with himself, he'll call it what it is.
He loves you.
But he can't admit it. He can't, because that would mean admitting that he's not sure. That the doctrine his father spent 16 years pounding into his skull didn't take, and above all, that the mark carved into his wrist was a mistake.
He splashes water on his face, but his skin still burns like he's been branded.
~~~
"You're quiet today," Harry observes at breakfast a few weeks later. "What's going on with you?"
You shake your head, taking a small bite of your toast. "Nothing. I'm just getting a bit behind in school."
"I can help, if you'd like," Hermione offers, squeezing your arm.
"I've got it covered," you smile at her, leaning against her shoulder, "but thank you."
Her bouncy waves tickle your cheek and you can't help but think about all the times Draco insulted and threatened your friends. How was it fair to keep giving him second and third and fourth chances when he never even gave them one?
Something pulls at the corner of your vision and you look up to see him walking into the Great Hall, a flighty look in his eyes. Harry follows your line of sight and makes an irritated noise. "He has some nerve showing his face here. I overheard him talking to Snape the other day and I think he's up to something. Something bad."
You feared just as much, but you weren't about to give Harry any more ammunition.
Your eyes glide across his features, glancing over his disheveled hair and wide eyes. He still looks beautiful, even in this state, but you force yourself to look away. Whatever feelings you had - or have - for him don't matter anymore.
Breakfast ends quietly and you spend the day catching up on some essays you've been assigned before the end of term. The air outside had started to warm again, and even though the night brings a slight chill, the snow was fully gone and the plants were starting to revive themselves.
When your eyes start to hurt from staring at parchment all day, you make your way to the Astronomy tower for some fresh air, and are pleased to find it empty. Everyone was likely cramming in some last-minute studying or sleeping before exams arrived.
Night falls quickly and soon the stars start to peek out across the clear sky. You try to identify the constellations, but you were never very good at that kind of thing.
"Orion," a voice mutters from behind you, and you spin around to see Draco, partially shrouded by the surrounding darkness. His dark suit blends into the night sky and you only get a good look at him once he approaches you, his arms resting on the railing beside yours.
"Thanks," you breathe, turning back to the view before you. You haven't gotten over your last interaction - at least that's what you've told yourself - and you don't want to make this easy for him. He may not owe the world anything right now, but he owes you the respect of an apology.
"I'm sorry about before," he says shortly and you almost laugh. You wish you could pin his ability to practically read your mind on your time together when you were young, but this was something else entirely. Something real and lasting and above all, futile.
You nod, finally chancing a look at him. There's no breeze tonight, so his hair stays flat, and you lift your hand to push a stray piece behind his ear.
Your fingers are warm against his skin and he does everything in his power to stay still, even as his body urges him to run for the hills. He doesn't deserve you, but you don't deserve his baggage either. He can't keep pushing you down in the hope that you will stay away from the chaos he brings with him wherever he goes.
"My mother taught me all of the constellations," he whispers suddenly, his grip on the railing tightening as he dives back into his memories. "She said our family was tied to the stars and that I had to know about our history if I was to learn from their mistakes."
You know bits and pieces of this story, but you can tell that he needs to say it, so you let him.
"I hated it," he says, and you can sense the tinge of sentimentality staining his words. "I didn't want to look up at the sky, because after everything my father did to me, I didn't ever want to feel small again."
"Draco," you whisper, struggling to find the right words to help him. To bring back the mischievous, naĆÆve boy who didn't know what this kind of pain felt like. "Hurting people will never make you the bigger man."
His face contorts and you feel the sting of tears in your chest. "Don't you think I know that? I don't give a damn about anything anymore, I just want my family to get out of this bloody cycle. I just want to feelĀ safeĀ for once!"
His words slice you open and you grasp his shoulder, pulling him down into a hug that surprises the both of you. His body envelopes you, bringing you warmth, even as his touch sends a shiver down your spine.
You see the battle being fought inside his mind, you can almost hear the clang of weapons when he opens his mouth to speak. The boy whose father turned away when he was hurt and pushed him further when he tried to hold back.
You don't have any illusions about being able to save him from himself, but you also know that if you can make him feel safe for just a moment, it may be enough.
"I'm here with you," you whisper against his neck. "I'm always going to be with you."
He makes a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a groan and suddenly his lips are on yours. He turns you around, away from the railing, and brings his hands up to your face, his fingers tangling in your hair. He can taste the unspoken words between your lips, and he wishes he lived in a world where you could say them, and he could accept, but he doesn't.
So instead he settles for this. For one night where he can pretend he isn't a Malfoy and that he doesn't have the responsibilities he has been given. One night where you look at him and see the boy you once loved, and not a problem that needs to be fixed.
You slide your hands up his back, gasping against his mouth as he tugs on your hair just hard enough for it to sting. You can feel his hands make their way down your spine, and when his fingers glide over each ridge, it's like he's trying to memorize every divot of your body.
Draco was not the kind of boy who did things without a purpose. He had a reason when he bought the Slytherin team new brooms, just as he did when he joined Umbridge's student army. Tonight was no different. You could feel the finality in each of his touches, as though he was trying to fit every experience and emotion into one moment.
He brings his hands down to the hem of your sweater, lifting it up and over your head in one motion. A small breeze floats across your skin, scattering goosebumps in its wake. When he returns his lips to your neck and laves over your pulse, the shiver that runs through you isn't from the cold.
Your fingers make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, but when you move to cast it away, he grabs your hands and brings them down with a slight shake of his head. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, but when he bares his teeth, nipping at the junction where you neck meets your collarbone, your knees start to buckle.
Draco uses your momentum to lean you down on the ground, quickly tearing his jacket off and laying it under your head. Your body, laid out before him, is open for the taking, and he has to grit his teeth to keep his pants from tightening too fast. He makes quick work of your skirt, and when his cold fingers slide over your entrance, you shudder under him, before grasping his neck and bringing him down to kiss you again.
He enters you slowly, his lithe fingers taking their time as you gasp against his mouth. Your hips jump as he adds another finger, and the only sounds you hear are the deepening of your breaths and the twinkling of the wind chimes hung across the Astronomy tower.
Draco grips onto your waist, using his positioning to press you farther into the hard ground as you shudder beneath him. His fingers dig into your soft skin, relishing every sigh and touch you afford him. He knows he would take anything you would give him now, and he does.
When his thumb finds your clit, you are practically shaking, and a few more quick thrusts are all it takes to make you buck forward, your thighs tightening as moans spill from your lips.
He comes down for another searing kiss, swallowing your gasps as your aftershocks abate. You look so beautiful sprawled out in front of him, your eyes blissful and your mouth and neck splotched pink from his teeth.
"Draco," you whisper, sitting up and undoing the buttons of his pants. "I want this- I wantĀ you, please."
His skin is flushed and he looks ethereal with his shirt hanging over his shoulders. When his pants come off, he bends over you again, leaning you back slowly. His eyes don't leave yours as he enters you, taking his time until he bottoms out.
Your mouth parts with a silent cry and he pushes in again, unable to take his eyes off the divot between your eyebrows as pleasure overtakes you. You have always been beautiful and he closes his eyes for a moment, unable to believe he gets to have you like this.
He presses his lips to your throat, trying to put everything he can't say into the touch of your skin.Ā I love you, I love you, I love you.Ā
His thrusts hasten and he drags his teeth down your neck, fulfilling his primal urge to mark you in some way that's so much more pure and raw than the mark defiling his skin.
Your gasps get louder before suddenly you're tumbling over the edge. It's not long before you're taking him with you, and he presses his palm into the ground beside you to keep his body from falling onto yours.
You feel incredible around him, and for a moment he almost forgets about the brand piercing his wrist, turning him into someone he's not.
When you both come down, you smile at him sweetly, reaching up to smooth down the side of his messy hair.
He has to resist the urge to bend down and steal another kiss when a bell rings loudly and fear punctures his brain, blurring his vision momentarily.
They're coming.
"You have to get out of here," he hisses, grabbing your sweater and pressing it into your hands. "Now, go,Ā please."
"Draco, you're scaring me," you say, tugging your sweater and skirt on as he buttons his shirt, murmuring something you can't hear under his breath. "Please just tell me what's happening."
"I need you to leave!" he yells and his voice sounds like a shard of broken glass. Sharp, cutting.
You aren't moving fast enough and he has to get you out of here before they arrive. Before the plan went into motion.
His wrist starts to burn even more, and he winces, grabbing it in a futile attempt to hold them off. It's the wrong move, because you catch his motions immediately, seizing his hand and yanking his sleeve back.
The mark is like a sickness and you blanch, recoiling away from him with a disgust he never thought he would see fromĀ you.
"I can't- I, I can't believe-" you stammer, your hands coming up to cover your mouth as nausea rolls through you. "How could you?"
He closes his eyes, unable to stand the hatred brewing in your eyes, no matter how much he deserves it. "It's over for me. I made my choice."
Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you really were a sucker for lost causes. Because even with the black stain of the Death Eaters staring you in the face, a small part of you screams out from under the rubble of your destroyed future together, begging you to search for a reason. An explanation.
"You didn't have a choice, Draco," you whisper, hardly able to get the words out.
He doesn't know whether to be proud or heartbroken that you are still trying to look for some good in him, but with the other Death Eaters only moments away from showing up, he can't have you here with him.
"I had a choice," he sneers, throwing as much bitterness and malice into his words as he can muster. "I had a choice, and I chose them."
You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off, pulling his wand out of his back pocket. "Don't waste your breath. Nothing you say ever meant anything to me anyway."
Tears sting your eyes and you back away from him, feeling an unfamiliar hatred coursing through your veins. He turns away from you and you scramble to the staircase, tripping over the stairs as your eyes blur under the moonlight.
You are almost at the bottom when you hear the loud crack of an apparation, followed by a high-pitched cackle. When you turn back one last time, you see Draco raising his wand, and as Dumbledore comes into view, you push on, trying to get away from whatever is coming next.
The school feels eerily silent when you make it outside. The wind seems to have quieted down and the birds have stopped their chirping. It's only when Hermione calls out your name that you rush forward and see the aftermath of what must have happened after you left.
You look up instinctually, and when the railing of the Astronomy tower is empty, the tears flooding your eyes finally break free.
HP taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux @licensedcheek
being romantically frustrated is 1000000 worse than being sexually frustrated because you can get yourself off but you canāt spoon with yourself and kiss your own forehead
Summary: The boys say goodbye to you in their own way.
Warning: NSFW, smut, dirty talk, shower sex
Tags: @mrsamerica16 @mala-grey
images not mine
EXPLICIT GIF BELOW PAGE BREAK
The fleshy pillow that cradled your head was not the same one you remembered falling asleep on the night before. You could feel the bed move behind you as one of your bedmates rose to their feet. You peeked your eyes open to see Chris getting dressed on the other side of the room while Jensen held you lovingly to his chest.
Smut. 18 + Only! Got kinda longer than I thought it would. Now that I think about, I probably should've just written a proper fic. Ah well, I'm hoping you all enjoy anyway! Likes, comments, reblogs welcome. x
It's the middle of the night. You and Chris are driving home from an awards event. Normally he liked to hire a driver for events like these just in case alcohol was involved, but tonight he's behind the wheel of his sleek, brand new black Range Rover and you're sitting beside him in the passenger's seat. Chris, being the law-abiding citizen he is, did not drink at the event tonight, but you sure as hell did.
You aren't sure if it's the alcohol or if it's just how fucking fine Chris looks tonight in his designer, dark gray suit, but you were aching to just get home and fuck him already. The mere thought of what you want to do to him makes the pressure between your hips intensify.
"Can't you drive any faster, Chris?" You whine, groaning.
Chris has no idea of the devilish thoughts going on in your mind. At least not yet. "We're fifteen minutes away, babe. What's the rush?
Fifteen minutes is too damn long. No way you're going to wait.
You reach over, place a hand on his inner thigh and move it upward so that it teasingly brushes against the zipper of his pants.
Chris inhales a sharp breath, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as his body tenses under your touch. "Babe, stop that before I get us into a car wreck!"
You smirk and cup him in your hand, feeling how hard he is already. "Oh, you want me to stop?" You giggle. "It doesn't feel like it."
Chris has a death grip on the steering wheel at this point. "We're so close to getting home, just wait a minute."
But you just can't wait, not even for a minute.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and lift yourself out of your seat slightly so you can lean over body the center console of his car. Your hands unzip him and free his member. It takes everything in Chris to keep his eyes open and focused on the road when he feels you take him into his mouth. He knows this is a little dangerous, but he just can't bring himself to stop you as your lips and tongue work their magic.
"Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good," he praises your skills. "But I need more." Chris steers the Range Rover off to the side on a quiet, empty street. It's pitch black outside, but the car's tinted windows give you that little extra sense of security as you lift yourself up and climb over the center console. Chris helps you over and settles you onto his lap that you're facing him, your knees on either side of his legs. He goes to unbuckle his seatbelt and you stop him.
"Might need a seatbelt on while I ride it," You smirk, winking at him.
He lets out something mixed between a laugh and an eager groan.
You hike up your satin minidress around your waist and that's when Chris realizes that you aren't wearing any panties. "Fuck, baby, you were walking around the red carpet like that all night?"
You smirk again and somehow find his gaze in the dark, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders as you guide your body down onto him. Your lips ghost over his as you sink down his shaft slowly, your eyes never leaving his until every single inch of him is buried inside of you. That's when you close your eyes and throw your head back, your hips starting to rock back and forth. It's slow at first, but once you establish your rhythm, you start picking up the pace.
Chris moans, his fingers digging into your waist. He's in heaven.
The windows are already completely fogged up.
The Range Rover feels like a sauna, and you're both sweating.
"Babe, slow down. I'm not going to last," he gasps, fingers gripping you even harder than before. He's definitely going to leave you with some bruises.
You lean forward, your forehead against his and tell him to come as you do the opposite of what he says and continue to pick up the pace.
"Fuck!" Chris lets out a deep, guttural sound, his body shuddering as he does what you say and comes, pouring every drop of himself into you. He needs a few moments to come back to his senses. He reaches up and takes your face in his hands, kissing you. "You really are something else, babe, you know that?"
"You're a lucky guy, Chris Evans," You giggle jokingly.
"Damn right I am. Now let's hop into the backseat for round two."
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