#spoke to another human being before um… idk four years ago

[bipolbur]

my day is already shit enough what do you mean the response video is finally coming out and keemstar is the one who announced it

[drabblingdraco]

✬Arranged✬ Draco Malfoy X Reader (Request)

This is a request I received!

"Hello! I would love if you wrote something around reader and draco being forced into an arranged marriage by their parents. They hate each other at first because draco used to bully/insult her in school, they're constantly at each other's thoughts at first but then they begin to not mind each other's company... idk if that makes sense feel free to ask any questions. if you don't mind writing it I would love you see your take on it ❤️ oh and maybe the reader would fit the whole pureblood Slytherin comes from a wealthy family thing too. Something like that..."

I’ve read various imagines with a similar plot, but here’s my take on it! If you’d like a Part 2, let me know! I love this story line

Warning: swearing, slightly mean/bully Draco

Very long like 2k oops

Draco's POV:

I was awoken by the sound of Father walking in to my bedroom. He told me I needed to get up and ready for the day, as the (y/l/n)'s were coming. I ran my fingers through my hair, stressing over the fact I had to see (y/n) again. I couldn't stand being in the same room as her. She made me feel emotions I refused to let out. Although we were arranged to be married, I would never let her in my head. She wasn't getting anywhere near my vulnerability. I looked up at Father as he walked towards my bed, grabbing my chin.

"Son, you know how important this is. She's one of the only good pure bloods your age. Not to mention her great, great grandfather was the founder of Slytherin house. Don't fuck this up, Draco." He spat his last sentence before exiting.

I sighed, getting out of bed. My warm feet adjusted to the cold temperature of the wood floor. I went into my closet and picked out my usual attire: an emerald button up, black slacks and black laced dress shoes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I combed my hair back to a suitable placement. After spritzing some cologne on my neck, I saw a silver town car pull up outside the window.

(y/n)'s POV:

As the car came to a stop, I sighed while slouching in my seat. I could see Draco peering out the window pane. I wasn't looking forward to spending another day at the Malfoy's, yet again. I've been coming to the Manor my whole life. I knew the Malfoy's like the back of my hand, except Draco. He repeatedly threw his aggression towards me. Every time we spoke, one of my flaws came up in conversation. He always pointed out the (y/birthmark) on my (y/body part).

"Out the car now darling, time to see your fiancé."

"Mother please stop calling him that."

"Why? He is your betrothed after all." She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. After all these years, I still can't imagine being married to that foul mouth. I wanted to marry someone I loved, like my parents. But all they cared about was the Malfoy’s and keeping their great image in the wizarding world.

I stepped out of the car and mother shouted at me from the other side. "Go ahead inside love, I'll meet you in there." She had a slight smirk across her lips. I was suspicious, but not enough to ask questions.

I make my way up the grand stairs, Narcissa waited for me in the doorway.

"Hello dear! Delighted to see you again." She gave me a hug and a peck on the head.

"Draco will be down in just a minute- DRACO!" She smiled. I internally groaned.

A figure came walking down the spiral staircase. His hair was placed just right, making his piercing grey eyes stand out. His sleeves were cuffed right above his wrists, the green really accentuated his skin tone. I quickly shook myself out of admiration coma.

"Draco." I said with a straight face.

"(y/n).." he replied.

"Draco, why don't you take her to the gardens while your father gets her trunks?"

"Trunks? What do you mean?"

Narcissa looked confuzzled. "Oh dear, don't know you? You're staying at the manor for a short while."

My eyes went wide, "What?"

"WHAT?!" Draco grasped the railing of the stairs, the veins on his hand popping out as he strained against the wood.

"Draco! Behave yourself," Narcissa gritted through her teeth, she turned to me smiling.

"I don't have any clothes," I stammered, trying to make up excuses to avoid my dreadful stay.

"Yes you do!" Mother said, walking through the door.

I turned to face her with stink eyes, "is there a reason you didn't tell me I had to stay here with this twat?!" I motioned to Draco.

"And you didn't tell me this bloody-" Draco shouted at Narcissa, but she quickly stopped him.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

There was a brief, awkward moment of silence between the four of us. 

"My love, it's time you got a taste of the married life," she grasped my shoulder shaking me subtly. "After all, you are older now and soon enough, you'll officially be husband and wife."

"But mother! I-"

"No buts! Now I really must be going. I have to meet your father at the council meeting, but enjoy yourself! I packed you enough clothes for a few weeks, so you're all set dear." She kissed me on the cheek as I stood there, dumbfounded.

"Goodbye darling!" She shouted as Lucious shut the door behind her, exiting the manor.

I turned around to face the two Malfoys that stood before me. How could she just dump me here? And for weeks?  It's bad enough she married me off before I could even breathe. There's no way I would be able to last that long here with Draco. I look at both him and Narcissa, he looked enraged and I couldn't blame him.

"Now take a walk in the gardens, get some fresh air." She stated as a command rather than a question.

We both looked at each other with disgust, but we followed her wishes and headed towards the courtyard. We walked in silence for quite awhile. It was a cumbersome stroll, he wouldn't look me in the eyes or even my direction. I shouldn't be surprised, he was always like this, but something was different. He seemed tense, like he was holding something back. I tried to enjoy myself as if he wasn't there, admiring the lilies and pansies scattered perfectly symmetrical. Unfortunately my eyes kept falling back on him. His tapered slacks rested right above his matte dress shoes. The way his shirt grasped his frame. I felt a chill going down my spine. I adjusted my cardigan, wrapping it tightly around my chest. For some reason this got his attention and he whipped his view towards me.

"Don't tell me you're cold?" He scoffed, scrunching his nose.

"Is there a problem with feeling normal human reactions?" I spat.

He laughed, "just find it rather odd you'd wear such a short skirt on a day like this."

I shook my head in anger. It was typical he pointed out something to do with my attire. "It's summer Malfoy..what, would you rather I wear jeans and sweat like a pig?" Looking me up and down, his eyes lingering at the hem of my skirt.

He ignored my words and continued to walk faster, heading back to the manor. I scoffed and continued at my pace, in no rush to go back inside with that jackoff.

I closed the door to the courtyard and locked it. My eyes traveled around the room, I remembered memories from my childhood, when Draco was actually pleasant towards me and didn't act like a dick. We used to play with fake wands and babble made up spells to each other. I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw Narcissa approaching.

"Why don't you come have some tea? I just brewed a pot." I nodded and followed her to the dining room.

I sat down in one of the many chairs seated at the table. A minute later she came back with a kettle and two dark green teacups with silver snakes on them. Typical Slytherins, but I was one to talk. We chatted a bit about how I've been since we last saw one another, even though it was only a mere three weeks ago. Then we diverted to the subject of Hogwarts. She went on about Dumbledore and how Lucious couldn't stand him. At this point, who didn't know about his vendetta against him.

After a few hours of conversing, she said she was tired and was heading to bed.

"You'll stay in Draco's room this evening."

"Um, are you sure? Can't I stay in the guest room?"

"Oh..the guest room is being..remodeled at the moment. Draco knows of the arrangements. I assure you dear, don't worry about about a thing. Sweet dreams." And with that, she left me standing in the dining room.

I clenched my fist together, wanting nothing more than to obliviate myself and forget everything that was happening, but alas, I couldn't go through with it. Like the kind, forced houseguest I was, I took the teacups and kettle back into the kitchen to be cleaned when I ran into Dobby.

"Hello Dobby how are you?"

"Hello Miss (y/n), you're always so worried about Dobby, it warms my heart. Dobby's keeping his feet on the ground. Dobby keeps hearing things from Mr. Draco about you."

"I'm sorry but I thought I just heard you saying Draco's been talking about me.."

"Oh dear, Dobby has said too much! Bad Dobby." He reached for the teacup but I stopped him before he could.

"Don't hurt yourself, it'll only make me sad, and I know you hate to see me that way." I bat my lashes.

"Sorry Miss (y/n)..since I've already said too much...Mr. Draco talks about you nicely. He likes your (y/h/c) hair and the way your nose scrunches when you're laughing. Dobby hears him talk to Mr. Crabbe and Goyle about these things and much more.." He shyly looks away, looking up the stairs towards Draco's room.

"Hey, hey, I won't tell him. (y/n) keeps secrets Dobby tells her." I smiled at him.

"Thank you Miss, Dobby likes you much more than his masters."

"I like you more than them too." I gave him a peck on the head and went up the staircase.

I trailed down the hall towards his room. The halls were dimly lit by small candles on the walls, as well as moving paintings on the walls of their family tree. I arrived outside his bedroom, scared out of my mind to knock, but I brought myself to do so. Shortly after knocking, he opened the door to his bedroom. I stood there admiring his night clothes; a fitted white v-neck tee shirt and boxer shorts.

"Are you just going to stand there like a git and gawk or come in?" He smirked.

"I- Uh- Coming in." I slipped past him and stood there, unsure of my next move.

"It's getting late," he shut the door behind him. "You should put on some more comfortable clothing to sleep in."

"Right..oh, my trunk is downstairs. I should go get-"

"It's right here," he pointed towards it. "I brought it up a little bit ago. Didn't want to risk you breaking a nail, I'd never hear the end of it."

I scoffed, walking towards my case. I unbuckled the clasps and opened it to find clothing that didn't belong to me, or so I thought."

I've bought you some more appropriate dressings for your stay with Draco. Enjoy them, I know he will too.

-Mother

I was taken aback by her note. It's like she's asking me to fuck him, and we're not even married yet. She's already desperate for grandchildren, I thought to myself. I rummaged through my new wardrobe and ogled in shock. Lingerie, bodycon dresses, even shorter skirts. Are mothers supposed to be like this?

I picked the least revealing item I could find to sleep in. It was a silk green nightgown with lace detailing on the chest, lingering a little too low on the chest for my liking..but it was the only thing that didn't expose my entire body. I grabbed my toiletry bag and my feet brought me to the bathroom. I peeled off my current attire and put on a new set of panties along with my nightgown. I brushed my hair up in a ponytail and brushed my teeth. Gathering my belongings, I slowly walked out of the bathroom and locked eyes with Draco. Now he was the one gawking at me.

"I know I'm always being a dick but..you look dashing (y/n), really." He said shyly, looking down at his feet as he sat on the bed.

"Thanks..." I wasn't sure how to respond.

I put my dirty clothes and bag on top of my trunk. I scratched the side of my arm in nervousness, not knowing how the sleeping arrangements were going to work, although I had an idea. There was nothing else to sleep on besides Draco's bed. He stared at me with anticipation as if he was waiting for me to join him.

I proceeded to the opposite side of the bed. I peeled back the sheets on my side, snaking my legs underneath. Draco still sat in his place, shifting a bit, but stayed in his current position. I laid down, facing his direction, closing my eyes. Maybe if I kept them closed long enough, I'd eventually fall into a deep slumber without any further conversing with Draco.

I felt the sheets ruffle as he too laid down, I couldn't tell if he was facing my direction or not, but I ignored it. I adjusted my pillow to a more comfortable position. We both laid there, within the same vicinity, completely silent. After a few moments, I peaked my eyes open ever so slightly to find a pair of silver eyes looking deep into my soul. I shuttered, unaware of the fact he was staring at me. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Couldn't help myself."

"Couldn't help what?" I asked in confusion.

"Having the pleasure of looking at you," he licked his lips.

"I don't think I understand.."

"My god (y/n)...I never took you for dumb."

I raised an eyebrow, "how am I dumb?"

"Because you can't see it," he paused. "You can't see how madly I'm in love with you...and you can't tell me you don't feel the same." He reached for me chin, grasping it ever so slightly.

I didn't dislike his touch. His hands were ice, melting on my warm skin. His thumb caressed my jaw, heading towards my lips.

"I- I will admit..I do have f-feelings for you, I've been suppressing them..but you make it very convincing that you have a..distaste for me. Ever since we were young.."

"I don't think you understand the common thing about us males...we tease the ones we love," he chuckled.

Not knowing what the hell came over me, I forcibly grabbed his face and slammed my hungry lips onto his.

Taglist: @bbeauttyybbx 

[him-e]

Do you think Walda Frey is actually enamored with Roose Bolton? She sends him love letters and is apparently enthusiastic in bed but is it perhaps just Walda performing what's expected of her? It's hard to believe anyone would be attracted Roose..

I’m sure part of that is a performance, because what else is she supposed to do in a society that treats women as men’s possessions. Her letters were rather formulaic, “all the same” every day or so, and tell us very little of her real feelings. Also, those mentions of “squeals and shudders”, coming from Roose Bolton’s mouth, might hide an ominous subtext. But perhaps they don’t, and she genuinely likes Roose? Or at least likes him enough to be relatively content with being his bride and the privileges that come with it. You don’t have to be a monster yourself to love one (think Vanessa Marianna from Daredevil. Or, idk, Joanna Lannister). It’s not unusual or strange or outside the spectrum of human experience.

It’s hard to tell in this case because we don’t know a lot about Walda, other than the few (rather stereotypical) traits the narrative gives her through the povs of people who, in all honesty, are pretty eager to write her off one way or another. She’s a Frey (with all that entails), she’s plump, she’s pink, she has a shrill voice. Nothing designed to spark a particular interest in the reader other than a vague amusement at the idea of such an harmless-looking girl being Lady of the Dreadfort, lol. Not a lot of information about the nature of her relationship with Roose either, aside from what Roose himself has to say. At some point, however, she’s given more than the occasional line of dialogue, and volunteers some details about her marriage:

Smalljon Umber and Robin Flint sat near Robb, to the other side of Fair Walda and Alyx, respectively. […] “Everyone thought my lord would choose Fair Walda,” Lady Walda Bolton told Ser Wendel, shouting to be heard above the music. Fat Walda was a round pink butterball of a girl with watery blue eyes, limp yellow hair, and a huge bosom, yet her voice was a fluttering squeak. It was hard to picture her in the Dreadfort in her pink lace and cape of vair. “My lord grandfather offered Roose his bride’s weight in silver as a dowry, though, so my lord of Bolton picked me.” The girl’s chins jiggled when she laughed. “I weigh six stone more than Fair Walda, but that was the first time I was glad of it. I’m Lady Bolton now and my cousin’s still a maid, and she’ll be nineteen soon, poor thing.”

This is possibly the longest conversation she has with anyone in the text. It’s also stuff she decides to share freely, without being asked. There’s a hint of pettiness at getting a kind of revenge over her prettier cousin, and a bit of sadness surfacing when she admits that she’s never felt happy about her body until Roose chose her. And yes, Roose is there to hear, so it might as well be in part another performance to flatter her husband. But overall she sounds like someone who just won the lottery and is eager to tell everyone so. Note that this is the Red Wedding chapter, and she’s been married to Roose since ACOK, so she’s already had plenty of time to know what kind of man is her husband. (I also, um, wonder if she knew about the upcoming massacre, but that’s for another speculation)

Of course, she might be pretending that everything is fine, or maybe it’s Catelyn who, in her own distress, isn’t able to read Walda well (as I said, pov problem). She wouldn’t be the first nor the last to hide a personal tragedy behind a chipper, relaxed facade. But it’s equally possible that she’s being literal and that there’s no dark subtext for once. That she just enjoys her married life and the company of her lord husband, even in bed. Counterintuitive, maybe. But possible.

There’s also this little moment, showing she’s comfortable touching Roose and seeks his protection:

The blade slashed through three of his four chins in a spray of bright red blood. Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband’s arm. “Stop,” Roose Bolton shouted. “Stop this madness.”

It’s worth noting that Walda might not be the sharpest pencil in the drawer, but neither she is stupid. She doesn’t seem to fear or resent Roose, but she’s definitely, unequivocally terrified of Ramsay, and with reason: 

Ramsay was arguing with his father. They were too far away for Theon to make out any of the words, but the fear on Fat Walda’s round pink face spoke volumes.

So it’s not like she’s living in blissful ignorance of the darkness that permeates house Bolton. She knows there’s conflict between father and son, she knows that Ramsay is dangerous and aspires to be Roose’s only heir, and she understands this makes her a target. What she probably doesn’t know (but might be starting to suspect), is that being Roose’s wife won’t give her the protection she thinks, because Roose, unlike most men, is an emotionless vampire who doesn’t give a fuck about what happens to his house, his possessions, his progeny, or even his own life:

“My lord has a new wife to give him sons.”“And won’t my bastard love that? Lady Walda is a Frey, and she has a fertile feel to her. I have become oddly fond of my fat little wife. The two before her never made a sound in bed, but this one squeals and shudders. I find that quite endearing. If she pops out sons the way she pops in tarts, the Dreadfort will soon be overrun with Boltons. Ramsay will kill them all, of course. That’s for the best. I will not live long enough to see new sons to manhood, and boy lords are the bane of any House. Walda will grieve to see them die, though.”

For all he’s become “oddly fond” of Walda, and the thought of her inevitable grief is worth a passing mention, none of this is important enough to him, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to take any measures to prevent this from happening. As Barbrey tells Theon:

I think he would be pleased if the fat man [Manderly] attempted some betrayal. It would amuse him. Roose has no feelings, you see. Those leeches that he loves so well sucked all the passions out of him years ago. He does not love, he does not hate, he does not grieve. This is a game to him, mildly diverting. Some men hunt, some hawk, some tumble dice. Roose plays with men. You and me, these Freys, Lord Manderly, his plump new wife, even his bastard, we are but his playthings.

So tldr, do I think Walda is “enamored” with Roose? I don’t know, but I admit I’m partial to the idea that she is, if anything because it adds variety to the story—Walda is excruciatingly normal, and sometimes normal people like and support horrible people. Not every bad guy’s retinue is made of orcs. 

But that’s an arbitrary take on a pov-less, vastly minor character, so take it as it is. Since we aren’t in her head, I’m afraid we’ll never know how she really feels. I think she’s aware to have married a monster, and is… relatively fine with that and invested in making it work, although it’s clear that none of this was her choice to begin with. It’s just that she doesn’t know what kind of monster he is, and how little she (and everyone else) matters to him.