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allthewriteplaces · 7 months ago

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A Magnolia In May - Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Summary: The kids get some ice cream and Thomas gives a quick update on the health of his horse.

Chapter Warning(s): None

Word Count: 3753

Chapter Twenty-Four

After swimming and building sandcastles, we slipped our shoes and sunhats back on, not caring too much about the fact that our hair was still wet. Our shoes made funny sloshing sounds as we walked the length back to Arrow House that the kids of course found amusing, even with the sun trying to scorch the backs of our necks and heads, at least we had cooled off enough to be able to walk without feeling like we were roasting like a lamb on the spit.

“Listen! Our wet shoes sound like ducks,” said Katie and a chorus of quacking and laughing from the other children ensued. I turned around and Lizzie, Esme and I exchanged a look. I think we were all secretly wondering if it would last until we got all the way back home. Not that we cared, of course. It kept them happy and soon enough, even we joined in.

We weren’t too far away from a little marketplace, and the wooden sign told us that one of the nearby shops was also serving ice cream cones, so we decided to stop by.

There weren’t very many customers browsing the stalls considering that the market was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, but the people behind them who were selling the produce all seemed warm, friendly and cheerful regardless.

All of them wore straw sunhats on their heads and white, long-sleeved shirts and blouses to protect them from the summer heat. After the children helped us pick out some fruits and vegetables to take back to the house, we let them each by an ice cream cone and they all crowded together on the long picnic bench to eat them.

The benches were under big, shady umbrellas so they didn’t have to sit with the sun blazing into their skin. Polly had packed napkins in the basket which came in handy when some of the ice cream ended up on their noses, cheeks, around their mouths and on their clothes.

Marie was one of those little girls that didn’t like messy things. Alice didn’t care for messy things, either, but the main contrast between the two of them was that while Alice knew that a small spill of milk or ice cream on her dress was nothing that couldn’t easily be mended, Marie saw it as a dire catastrophe.

Unfortunately for her, she had gripped her cone too tightly and it cracked into pieces.

The ice cream went all over her hands, all over her dress and all over the ground.

Before she started crying, Linda swooped in and wiped the spot on her dress, rubbing her back and telling her that it was okay if the clothes she was wearing got a little bit messy, that they’d be changing into clean clothes later.

“Marie! Look! Look at me!” said Henry, purposefully dipping the entire bottom half of his face into the cone and then lifting it up. “I have a chocolate moustache.”

Marie laughed and Henry grinned proudly.

“I wanna try,” said William, doing the exact same thing.

Soon, all of the kids either had a chocolate or vanilla moustache.

Esme turned to me and whispered, “We’re gonna need more napkins.”

“A whole basket full,” I responded.

“Would you like to go and buy another cone?” Lizzie asked and Marie nodded, taking her hand and letting her take her inside the shop to get another cone.

The afternoon continued as follows: Marie came back with her new ice cream cone, we had a couple of incidents of brain freeze, Ruby talked about how excited she was about her and Charlie’s music recital, and once they’d all finished their cones, we continued down the winding road.

We got to Arrow House just as the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, just as Miss Carleton was leaving. She waved out the window and out of politeness, Lizzie waved back at her only to lightly roll her eyes the second she disappeared. I chuckled softly and she smiled as we proceeded up the path toward the house.

Thomas was pacing back and forth, a cigarette dangling between his teeth. He stomped it out when he saw us coming and when Ruby and Charlie let go of Lizzie’s hands to run over to him. He bent down a little and lifted them both into his arms.

I could practically sense the weariness leave his body and soul the second they entered his field of vision. His eyes brightened and his face broke out into a wide smile.

“Daddy, we went swimming!” Ruby exclaimed, “and built sandcastles!”

“Don’t forget about the ice cream!” Charlie added. “We got a whole cone!”

“Did you?” he asked. “Well, we’d better get you into some dryer clothes, eh?”

He set them both down on the ground and ruffled Charlie’s hair, then he allowed them to lead him back inside. Lizzie leaned over to tell me that she was going to get Charlie and Ruby ready for their recital. I replied by saying that I’d be close by if she needed my assistance and to tell them I was looking forward to hearing them play.

The other kids followed their mums inside, too, relaying the whole story of our day at the lake to their dads.

When I eventually walked through the front door, Thomas was waiting in the middle of the foyer with his arms at his sides and his feet planted firmly on the hardwood floor, like he wanted to continue pacing, but something was preventing him from doing so in that moment. He looked like he had a lot he needed to say and he was worried; I hated seeing him that way.

As soon as I’d walked in, the worry and anxiety melted away from his face and his expression was now tinged with a touch of relief, though I could still see it reflecting in his ocean eyes. “The kids said you all had fun.”

“We did,” I answered, “not all of them wanted to swim and we said they didn’t have to if they didn’t want to, so they built sandcastles instead, although, the sand was actually more mud than what you’d call actual sand.”

He smiled. “Just like them to want to play in the mud.”

I smiled back, “All kids love it. Or at least most of them do.”

He took me into the parlour and we sat down on the armchairs near the window.

Not surprisingly, the sun had disappeared behind the clouds again almost like it knew that we were done playing outside for the day. It must have wondered what the point of staying out was, but certainly there would have been lots of other children who would have enjoyed the sunshine.

“So,” I said, easing into the chair. “How’d your meeting with Miss Carleton go?”

“Pretty much the same as always,” he shrugged.

Unlike Lizzie, he didn’t seem to have any qualms with her, but if he did, I highly suspected that for the sake of diplomacy and civility, he would push those feelings as far back as he could. Unless of course she said or did something that would warrant another kind of response.

He groaned softly as he sat back and put his feet up on the stool and then continued with what he was saying before, but there was a twinkle in his eyes and a small smile as he glanced in my general direction. “You would have been bored out of your mind, love.”

“How do you know?” I teased, although of course I was only thinking about the way he called me love. It sounded prettier in his voice, somehow. He must have read my thoughts because his smile grew, but I continued before he could say anything, “I’d have loved to have chatted about horse racing and training and whatever else the two of you chat about.”

He scoffed, “No, you wouldn’t have. Besides, we mostly just chatted about the weather and how nice it would be if the temperature actually remained consistent for a while, and besides that, she would very well have talked my ear off if I hadn’t made up the excuse that I needed to run an errand.”

You? Running errands? I thought, but instead of scoffing and replying with some witty comment, I nodded. “And what did she have to say when you told her that one of your horses may be expecting?”

I braced myself for whatever answer might come from me asking. Of course I tried to be optimistic that everything was working the way it was supposed to and that if Grace’s Secret was indeed pregnant, she would be able to carry the foal to full term.

“Well, when I took her outback to the stables,” he said, “one of the first things she wanted to know was whether or not you could see the tiny lump where the foal was growing, so she placed her hand on her stomach and sort of felt around.

“It was a wonder she didn’t put up a fight. Everyone knows that even in her current state, that she darn well could have landed a good kick if she felt threatened, but she must have trusted May enough to know that she’d never harm her.”

Thomas tapped his foot against the floor for a minute and rubbed his hands together, providing me more and more evidence that he was still very anxious. I suspected that the veterinarian was running late, or else he probably would have been a tad more relaxed than he was pretending to be.

“She has no doubt in her mind that Grace’s Secret is pregnant, but she said the veterinarian will be able to tell how far along she is, make sure the foal is healthy, and can give us some advice about what we can do to make her more comfortable.”

I did my best not to let my excitement show on my face, but the idea that we would have a new little one in our lives would be exciting and wonderful and I hoped that everything would go the way it was supposed to.

Human mothers had to wait nine whole months to deliver a baby, but according to Uncle Albert, for horses, it was ten months. Not that much longer, but it would probably be exhausting for the poor mum. I noticed Thomas taking off his hat and exhaling deeply as he ruffled his hair with one hand.

“It just startled me, is all,” he muttered softly. “Aside from Charlie, who is one of the most beautiful and most precious things that she has blessed me with, this horse is the only part of her I have left and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

This was a side of Thomas Shelby that he kept hidden from most of the people around him, including most of his family and friends, but there were a few times when he let the mask drop from his face and he let people see how he was truly feeling.

I spent the next few minutes considering what I would say or do next, or what I should say or do. I wished there was more that I could offer him besides words of encouragement and reassurance, because words cannot fix bullet holes left behind by someone that has passed on.

When my mother and father had died, I was beside myself with grief, much so in fact, that after they sent me away, for the first couple of weeks, I didn’t eat, for a whole month I had trouble sleeping, for six months I had almost constant nightmares, and for an entire year, I didn’t speak more than a few simple words.

Losing Grace was by far the worst day in Thomas’ life.

In all honesty, he said, he didn’t think he would ever recover from it, that he could still see the look on his face sometimes in his nightmares, just like he still sometimes see the tunnels he and his brothers used to have to dig through, and hear the sound of the enemies’ shovels.

“I don’t know much about horses,” I said, leaning forward and tentatively taking his hand into mine. He let me hold his hand and I rubbed soothing circles on the back of it with my thumb as a way to help him calm down, “but the doctor will know—”

“The doctor hasn’t even come yet! He told me on the phone last night that he would come in the afternoon,” he snapped, pulling his hand free, forcefully pushing himself out of the chair and stepping over to the window with his hands on both of his hips.

He didn’t sound angry, really, he sounded more panicked. I knew that the best thing to do in this particular situation was to give him some personal space so as much as I wanted to stand by his side and try to reason with him, I remained seated in my chair and kept my distance or else he might have felt suffocated.

Once he’d calmed down a bit, I spoke again. “Doctors, including animal doctors, will usually let you know ahead of time if they’re going to be late. Maybe there was an emergency that he needs to take care of. And Grace’s Secret doesn’t seem to be in any distress.”

He sighed and sat back down on the chair, gripping the arms of it so tightly that his knuckles were as white as the sheets on his bed. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, though. It’s not your fault and it isn’t fair to take my anger and frustration out on you when you weren’t the one who …”

I wasn’t sure what he was going to say after that, but I decided to try to lighten the mood by saying, “Well, I sure hope not. Heaven only knows what a human and a horse’s child would look like.”

He looked completely taken aback by my words that for a whole ten seconds, his eyes became the size of dinner plates. He wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or terrified or both, but then he laughed.

“Look, I don’t know much about horses aside from what I learned growing up on the farm, but I do know one thing. Just like her namesake, Grace is strong and she’s got that stubborn and determined streak in her that can stretch the length of the entire ocean.”

Thomas’ unease melted away again. He must have been beside himself waiting for the doctor to arrive, which was why he was so stressed. I went on to say that if Grace’s Secret was in any sort of distress be it physical or emotional, or that if the lump was caused by anything other than pregnancy, surely she would be showing a lot more worrisome symptoms, and if that were the case, I could run into town and fetch another doctor in no time.

“Miss Carleton’s entire life revolves around breeding and showing and training horses. She would have told you right off the bat if there was anything to worry about,” I said, leaning forward and looking into his eyes again.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded, exhaling.

I could hear all of the worry leave him in that single breath. With another grunt, he rose from his chair, held his arm out to me in that old-fashioned way that I thought went out of style ages ago and looked down at me with a warm, subtle smile.

“Well, Miss Bennett, I do believe we have a recital to attend to.”

I glanced down at his arm for a minute or two, as if doubting in my mind whether I should loop my own arm through it or just let it wait for a bit longer.

In the end, I decided he deserved a reprieve from all the stress, including any stress that would probably be deemed unnecessary and looped my arm through.

“I do believe you’re right, Mister Shelby,” I said in my best impression of a Victorian lady, “It would be very rude to keep everyone else waiting.”

“It would be indeed,” he answered, playing along, “and besides, if we want to claim the best seats in the house, we mustn’t linger in the parlour longer than we have to.”

Thomas was enjoying playing the part of a dapper young man taking his lady out for a night on the town to see a music recital, and I was enjoying seeing him dropping the mask and having a little fun.

But true as that may be, I loved my Thomas Shelby.

My Thomas Shelby was a complex man.

One that, even as I type away at this typewriter, have yet to figure out completely.

To most people, Thomas was two sides of the same coin and some didn’t know which side of the coin they were going to get when they first met him. He was the sort of man that you might automatically love to fear, or that you might automatically fear to love, depending on which side of the coin you were on.

Let’s consider this well-known fact: each coin has two sides, right? You’ve got your heads, and you’ve got your tails. Now, this coin can be used in this scenario in many different ways, such as the one I’ve just stated above, where Thomas would flip it and whichever side it landed on was the one you were going to get.

But you could also use the coin, too.

If you happened to have met him or at least heard the many stories and rumours surrounding him, you might already have your own impression of him ingrained into your mind. You may have already picked your side of the coin, be it consciously or not.

I’d picked my side the second we laid eyes upon each other in my aunt and uncle’s parlour the day he came to take me to Arrow House. I was wary of him, and I’d been a little thrown off by the fact that they hadn’t confided in me about this plan to have me take on the role as governess for his two children, whom I was sure were very respectful and well-behaved, but whom I was sure wouldn’t trust me right away.

Had I been a less rational or more emotionally reactive, I would have undoubtedly went into hysterics. Now, wouldn’t that have made for a nice first impression?

Understandably, he was just as wary of me, because that was our first time meeting and other than my name, he clearly didn’t know anything about me, what I looked like, my hobbies, my interests, my likes and dislikes, etc. But he wasn’t at all rude, or gave me any indications that he had ill intentions or might become violent if I said or did the wrong thing.

Those who had seen Thomas Shelby at their worst, like those who had threatened him or his family, were said to have never been heard from again, either because they had died or because they’d fled and did not wish to be found. To them, he was a formidable opponent, a cold-hearted killer who would stop at nothing and would do whatever he needed to do to work his way up to the top of the food chain. To them, he was the tall handsome man who, out of the gathering storm, would step out of the shadows with his dusty black coat and a red right hand.

Others, who had been fortunate enough to remain on his good side or earn their place on there right from the get go, were easily swayed by his quiet domination, his non-reactivity under pressure, his ability to gain respect and trust by those he wanted in his circle, and not to mention his connections he had to famous individuals — I was told he’d even spoken to Mister Charlie Chaplin himself!

A few lucky individuals, specifically women, fancied themselves immune to his charms and his bedside nature, but of course they couldn’t fool him even if they tried. He knew what to say or what to do for his own satisfaction or personal gain, a front he used to protect himself from being hurt in the same way he’d been hurt when Grace died and he and Lizzie separated.

Yes, I was aware of Thomas’ sides, I was aware of the potential consequences of getting too close, I knew that there was a possibility of seeing his darker side or that aspects of his past that he’d tried hiding away would come back eventually, just like the time he ended up in the hospital after those men almost beat him to death.

My older cousins, a handful of the friends I still kept in touch with through postcards and letters, even random strangers on the street, everyone kept telling me that Thomas was somehow manipulating me and forcing me to be with him. No one aside from my immediate family seemed to be able to understand that I had wanted to be with him, they weren’t aware of how much he loved his children; his sisters and brothers, his nieces and nephews and his Aunt Polly, and how far he was willing to go to protect them.

To protect me.

I was as in love as any woman had ever been, and while I couldn’t deny that there were some things Thomas did in his past that I didn’t agree on, I could see that for the sake of his children, he was trying to be more present in their lives and be a lot more careful with the people he got involved with.

Every evening before we’d go to sleep, as we laid side by side in the big bed, sometimes accompanied by Charlie or Ruby if one or both of them had a nightmare, he would tell me he loved me and reminded me how lucky he was to have us in his life and how his world would be bleak without us in it.

Smiling warmly, we made our way into the music room, as my ears picked up the sound of hurried footsteps thundering down the stairs. We both turned our heads at the same time to see Ruby holding onto the railing and coming down the stairs with her red recital dress on.

To Be Continued

Taglist: @zablife @izabesworld @cillmequick @sherbitdibdab

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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citrusdarling7 · 4 years ago

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Our Baby

summary- how I imagine having tom’s child would go

warnings-implied sex, pregnancy,implied labor, tom being clueless about babies and children

🗡—————————————————————🗡

When we first learned that I was pregnant, Tom was incredibly confused. He knew that I would never cheat on him, yet he seemed to believe there was no way that he could have possibly created a baby.

“That is impossible. You’re not pregnant,” he had decided.

A few months later, my baby bump started showing, and Tom finally accepted that he would soon be a father. Of course, he would never think to abandon the child or I, not after growing up in a neglectful orphanage. But he still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the pregnancy. Things such as morning sickness and strange food cravings confused him.

“You mean to tell me that you’re currently vomiting up the baby?” He asked while I was hunched over the toilet puking.

“That is absolutely foul,” he sighed while watching me eat pickles that I had coated with peanut butter.

When I reached the second trimester, I took Tom to the doctor’s with me for an ultrasound appointment. When the black and white image appeared on the screen, Tom got up out of his seat to study it. The doctor, who was a cheery middle-aged woman, told us that we were having a boy. Tom stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before deciding,

“It looks like an alien.”

“He’s not an alien. Don’t say things like that,” I hissed at him. The poor doctor then had to explain to Tom how ultrasounds work, and why the image looked so distorted.

A few mornings later at the breakfast table, Tom decided to share an idea with me.

“I want to name it Salazar.” My fork slipped out of my hand and clattered to the ground.

“I hope that you’re joking.”

“Why would I be joking? Seeing as it has my DNA, it is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. That would be the perfect name,” he explained while pouring his coffee.

“Absolutely not. I will die before I allow my baby to have such a stupid name.”

Although I made it perfectly clear that that name was not an option, Tom still had other ideas. I came home one afternoon to find him painting some large and ugly snakes on the walls of the nursery. He had even charmed the paintings so that they could slither and hiss. I had to explain to him why such images would be disturbing for a baby. When I had Abraxas come over the next day to paint little ducks over the serpents, Tom sulked for hours.

Even though his nursery paintings had been covered up, Tom was starting to become more involved with the pregnancy. He accompanied me on a trip to a Muggle baby store, inspecting every single sweater or onesie that I tossed into my cart.

“Why would it need socks? I thought that infants can’t walk,” he questioned as I tried to show him an adorable set of baby socks with polka dots printed on them. His voice had been rather loud, and other shoppers were giving us strange looks.

“Yes, Tom. Babies don’t walk, but they can still get cold feet.”

He wandered around the baby store for hours, examining strollers and baby-mobiles. Whenever an employee came up and asked if we needed help, Tom flashed them a menacing look and reached to hold my hand. He had started to grow more protective over me.

About three weeks before I was due to give birth, we hosted a baby shower at the manor. Tom never liked having guests over, but seeing as I was the one who was pregnant, my wishes were prioritized over his.

“Oh wow! I can feel him kicking!” My friend Briley, (who Tom and I had gone to Hogwarts with) exclaimed as she moved her hand around my swollen belly. Tom’s eyes widened in fear as he quickly shoved Briley aside.

“What is it doing? Is it trying to hurt you? Why would it do that?” Briley started laughing at Tom’s absurdity, while I simply rolled my eyes.

“He’s not trying to hurt me, he’s just moving around a bit. Give me your hand and I’ll let you feel.” I gently took his hand and placed it onto my stomach. Up until that point in time, Tom had not wanted to interact with my baby bump in any way.

“Strange,” he finally decided.

When it came time to unwrap the presents, Tom took it upon himself to open each one first, to determine if it was safe or not. Briley had wrapped up a Gryffindor onesie, and when Tom saw it he tried to kick her out of the manor. (I had to intervene before things got violent.) Abraxas and his wife had gifted us a lovely magical stroller that would spit poison at any stranger who approached it. Tom really liked that stroller.

As my due date rapidly approached, Tom grew much more interested in the baby. At night, he would ask to place his hand against my stomach so he could feel it. He began speaking to my baby bump in Parseltongue, which made me frown in confusion. I decided against reprimanding him, happy that he was finally interested in forming a bond with our child.

I went into labor while I was out having lunch with Briley. She quickly rushed me to the hospital and called Tom right away. We had chosen a Muggle hospital, (St. Mungo's wasn’t the best environment for a newborn.) Tom sat in a chair a few feet away during the entire delivery process, which ended up taking less than an hour. (Thanks to a lovely potion I had taken a few weeks ago that ensured a painless and smooth delivery.) The doctor asked Tom if he would like to cut the umbilical cord, but then immediately took back his offer when he saw Tom pull a large knife from his jacket in anticipation.

When my baby boy was handed to me, I couldn’t have been more happy. He was absolutely perfect, albeit a little slimy.

“Would you like to hold him, Tom?” He looked at our baby in disgust, shaking his head.

“Not until someone cleans it.” I sighed, but allowed the nurses to come in and take him away for his shots and bath. My son was returned a few minutes later, wrapped in a grey blanket, and free of any gunk or slime.

“Let his father hold him,” I instructed the nurse. A curious Tom allowed the baby to be placed in his arms. He studied him for a few minutes, unsure of what to say. Finally, he let a proud smile spread across his face.

“Hello, little Salazar. Welcome to the world.”

I immediately took the baby back into my arms, before Tom got any bright ideas, such as singing a lullaby in Parseltongue.

#oneshot #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #harry potter blurb #pregnancy #headcanon #tom riddle headcanon

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keijislove · 4 years ago

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Surprise: Harry Potter x Wife!Reader

A/N: warning, i guess there is a slight mention of NSFW (i do not write smut btw) and vomiting, sickness, etc.

Your eyes fluttered open as you were snatched out of your sweet dreams.

You looked to your left, where your husband was still sleeping.

Giggling, you got up and dressed for work.

‘Wake up, sleepyhead.’ You spoke. ‘You’re going to be late for work.’

Harry let out a small groan, sitting up in bed.

‘Morning love.’ He said through a yawn.

‘Morning, dork.’

---------

‘Mrs Potter, good morning!’

‘Hello Mrs Potter!’

‘Hi Y/N, alright?’

‘Good day Mrs Potter!’

‘Hello, hello.’ You briskly said, rushing through the stampede of Ministry wizards, making your way to your office.

‘Y/N, thank goodness you’re here!’ Hermione spoke. ‘Samuel Goodman’s having trouble with that spitting guitar again.’

‘Really? Again?’ you whined. ‘I didn’t think to bring lunch! That man’s job is going to take hours.’

‘I’ll tell Ron to get you something.’ Hermione giggled.

You fake gasped. ‘Minister, are you helping an employee?’

Hermione snorted. ‘Very funny, get going, he’s already knee-deep.’

You raised your hands in surrender, running off.

---------

‘Now, Mr Goodman.’ You seriously stated. ‘I do believe I told you to leave this instrument alone?’

The man blushed scarlet, muttering something that sounded like an apology.

You sighed. ‘Well, it’s done. It won’t spit at you anymore. Good day.’

You lead him out of your office.

Minutes later, there was a knock on your door.

‘Come in.’

‘Hey, Y/N.’ Ronald Weasley popped his head in. ‘Mione told me to bring you lunch, here you go. George has fixed this up for you.’

‘Ah, thanks Ron.’ You yawned. ‘Tell him thanks, that looks great.’

After eating your delicious egg-sandwich, you headed to your husband’s office.

‘Hi Y/N.’ Harry smiled as you entered. ‘Long day?’

‘The spitting guitar again.’ You answered.

‘Again? I feel sorry for you now.’

‘Oh, shut up.’ You laughed. ‘I expect-’

But at that moment, a wave of nausea overcame you, so powerful that you doubled over.

‘Love?’ Harry worriedly asked. ‘Y/N?’

Not speaking, afraid you would throw up, you ran into his bathroom and retched into the toilet.

After panting and cleaning yourself up, you went back out.

‘Love, a-are you alright?’ Harry asked.

‘I’m fine...’ you answered. ‘Maybe George cooked a bad egg or something in his sandwich...’

Harry nodded, unconvinced.

--------

The bell on the door of the shop rang as you entered.

The red-haired man at the counter didn’t look up. ‘Hello, welcome to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, best joke shop in Diagon Alley, I’m George Weasley and you may look around and ask me if you need anything.’

You politely waited for him to finish his monologue before you spoke.

‘Hem hem.’ You said, fighting your giggles as George’s head snapped up in horror.

‘Oh, it’s just you.’ He spoke. ‘I thought it was old toad-face who came to shut down my shop.’

‘Just me?’ you asked. ‘I’m offended.’

‘Yeah, yeah, hello Y/N.’ George snickered. ‘May I help you?’

‘Well, thanks for the sandwich.’ You began. ‘But did you-’

Before you could say put a bad egg in it, another wave of nausea washed over you.

‘Bathroom?!’ you choked out.

‘Y/N, what-’ George began. ‘Uh, yeah, just there.’

He pointed to the door.

You ran in and retched again.

‘Are you alright?’ George asked.

‘Well, I was going to ask you if you put a rotten egg in the sandwich, but now I’m wondering if you put a Puking Pastille in it...’

‘Puking Pastille?’ George repeated. ‘Why would I put that in your food? And we aren’t even making those anymore, it’s limited to Fever Fudge and Fainting Fancies.’

‘Am I sick?’ you wondered aloud.

‘By the looks of it, yeah.’ George spoke. ‘Maybe go home and rest?’

‘Yeah, maybe drop by at St. Mungo’s....’ you muttered, leaving.

----------

‘Hello, you’re at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, if you want to get treated, use that elevator, if you’re meeting someone, you have to wait, if you’re wasting my time, then please leave and- OH MERLIN!’ the woman gasped. ‘Y-you’re Y/N Potter...’

‘Uhm, I do believe I am.’ You said uncertainly.

‘Oh, well, oh, Mrs Potter, uh, big fan.’ She stuttered. ‘How may I assist you?’

‘Well, you see, I’ve been vomiting since this afternoon, it’s happened thrice already and I don’t recall eating anything off or drinking something old... overall, I need help.’

‘Well, of course you do!’ she breathed. ‘We will call our best healer for you, Mrs Potter, given how much you do for this nation!’

You fought the urge to giggle. ‘Er, thanks. I hope this best healer of yours can cure me.’

‘Certainly dear! He is one of the most skilled.’

The woman grabbed a microphone of sorts and bellowed. ‘HEALER MALFOY, I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE ASSISTING A DYING PATIENT OR WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU’RE DOING, GET. HERE. NOW!’

You gasped. ‘Did you say... Healer Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy?’

‘Yes, dear, quite right.’ She distractedly said.

‘What do you want, you horrible old woman?’ a voice asked behind you.

You didn’t dare turn.

‘Malfoy, kindly assist this lovely lady here.’

‘Alright, hello, how may I help?’ asked Draco.

Cursing internally, you turned around. ‘Hi...’

‘Y/N?’ he asked.

‘Draco.’ You spoke.

‘Ah... um come on, then.’ He awkwardly led you to his office.

‘We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, have we?’ he asked once you entered.

‘Yeah, the last time we met was when we both thought Harry was dead.’ You spoke sarcastically.

Draco smirked. ‘So, what’s with you and Potter, L/N?’

‘That’s Y/N Potter to you.’ You corrected.

Draco’s eyes grew wide. ‘Y/N Potter? You’re serious? That’s you? I thought it was some other Y/N or something...’

‘Honestly Malfoy, how many Y/N’s would marry Harry Potter?’ you asked.

‘I expect you have a point. Alright, Mrs Potter, what ails you?’ he asked.

‘Dunno.’ You simply answered. ‘Been retching all afternoon.’

‘What?’

‘Wait...’ something wasn’t right.

Oh no.

You ran into his bathroom and doubled over inside the toilet and let out your stomach’s contents yet again.

‘Blimey, you alright?’ asked Draco. ‘When did this start?’

‘This afternoon!’ you panted. ‘I thought George put a Puking Pastille in my sandwich, but then it didn’t stop. What’s wrong with me?’

‘I have a very good idea of what might be wrong with you.’ He began, making a disgusted face but you couldn’t place why. ‘But if it’s not true, I don’t want to worry you uselessly. Here, take these pills and if they don’t work, come to me right away. It will take two or three hours to have an effect, so tomorrow should be fine if you’re still... a human hosepipe.’

You snorted. ‘Yeah, alright. Thanks Healer Malfoy.’

‘My pleasure, Y/N Potter.’

---------

‘Hey love, how are you feeling?’ Harry asked as you entered your house.

‘Bit better, I went to St Mungo’s and apparently the best healer they have is Healer Malfoy.’ You spoke.

Harry laughed. ‘And what did Healer Malfoy tell you?’

‘He didn’t. He said he knew what might be wrong with me, but he didn’t want to uselessly worry me in case this is just a nasty stomach bug. So, I’ve got these pills for now.’ You explained.

‘Well, that’s nice.’ You husband said in amusement. ‘For once, you and Malfoy had a conversation where the both of you weren’t constantly threatening to break each other’s face.’

‘I was in for a surprise myself.’ You sarcastically said. ‘I’m going to bed... it’s been a long day, y’know?’

‘Yeah, I understand.’ Harry soothed. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

And yet after eating the pills, you puked almost four times that night.

-----------

‘MALFOY!’ you bellowed. ‘OPEN THE DOOR!’

The door swung open.

‘Pills not working?’ Draco asked before you could open your mouth.

You aggressively nodded.

‘Ugh.’ He spoke. ‘We’re going there, aren’t we? Oh well. Come in.’

He shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Er, Y/N, I have a question that is necessary for finding out what’s wrong with you... uhm, you’re married and all right? So, um... did you and Potter have your... em, fun night yet?’

Your cheeks blushed a heavy scarlet as you choked on your own spit. ‘Fun *cough* night?’

Draco looked fairly embarrassed as well. ‘Sorry, er, let me rephrase, when did you have your last menstrual cycle?’

‘About...’ you suddenly gasped. ‘It’s ten days late!’

‘Mhmm.’ Draco wore the same disgusted expression as before.

‘What?’

‘Sorry, it’s just really hard to imagine Potter wanking himself in your presence...’

You slapped the back of his head.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He said again. ‘Alright, um, take this.’

He handed you a small tube of sorts.

You raised a brow. ‘The Draco Malfoy, offering me a muggle instrument? What day is it today?’

‘They’re surprisingly reliable.’ He said delicately. ‘And it’s Wednesday, by the way.’

You giggled.

Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom.

‘So what does two lines mean?’

‘That there’s one baby Potter in there.’

----------

The next morning, you set out for your friends’ house.

You knocked on the door.

Several minutes later, a shabby-ooking Ron came out. ‘Whozzerre?’

‘Y/N.’ you answered.

‘The bloody hell are you doing here seven in the morning?’ he asked, nettled.

‘I need to see your wife, Ronald.’ You responded with equal mock-anger.

‘Oh, for Merlin’s sake Ron!’ said a voice as a fully dressed Hermione appeared at the door. ‘Y/N! Hi!’

‘Hey Mione, can I speak to you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Er, privately?’

‘Oh don’t mind me. I’m going to bed.’ Ron yawned.

‘Charming, Ronald.’ Hermione snapped as Ron trudged back. ‘Yes?’

‘Mione... I’m pregnant.’

‘What? I’m sorry, I must’ve misheard you, could you say that again?’

‘I’m serious Mione. I’m pregnant.’

‘WHAT?’ Hermione squealed. ‘Y/N, but that’s... amazing!’

‘I know!’ you squealed.

‘Does Harry know?’

You looked away.

‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’ Hermione accusingly said.

‘I’m not sure how he’s going to react.’ You muttered.

‘Well... maybe tell him by the end of this week... the Auror requirements are crazy at the moment. Maybe you ought to wait till he’s relaxed?’ she suggested.

‘Yeah, I’ll do that. And Mione, could you please cover for me just this once? I’ll work overtime maybe when you know, the baby’s born? It’s just... I’m quite tired at the moment.’ You pleaded.

‘You will not work overtime after your baby is born.’ Hermione sternly instructed. ‘I will cover for you all the same. Take care, Y/N.’

-----------

‘Love, is something the matter?’ Harry concernedly asked. ‘You’re... distant.’

‘I’m working long hours, Harry.’ You responded.

Harry arched a brow. ‘I don’t recall ever seeing you at the office in the last two days. Where do you disappear to in the day time?’

‘I have other work to do besides stay at the Ministry, Harry.’ You snapped in irritation.

Pregnancy was giving you mood swings.

‘See, this is the problem.’ Harry said. ‘You’re not telling me something. When was the last time you called me Harry in that tone?’

‘I dunno, but I’ll use it more often if you act like this.’

‘You know what, that’s it.’ He slammed his fork on the table. ‘I can’t take this anymore. Do what you like.’

He stomped up.

Yup, you blew it.

Sighing and rubbing your temples, you followed.

‘I’m not sure you’d be happy if I told you why.’ You muttered when you got there.

‘Happy?’ asked Harry. ‘Why would I be happy with something that is the cause of my wife ignoring me? I’d personally hate it.’

Tears brimmed in your eyes.

‘Oh yeah?’ you asked in a shaky voice. ‘Well good job, because I’m bloody pregnant with your bloody baby. And you hate it, don’t you?’

Harry was dumbstruck.

He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

‘Y/N...’ he choked out. ‘I didn’t mean...’

‘Save it.’ You said, running downstairs.

Harry messed up his hair.

‘I’m gonna be a dad?’ he whispered to no one.

A crash from the dining room followed by a whimper of pain snapped him out of his thoughts.

‘Love?’ he called.

No answer.

‘Y/N!’ he ran down.

‘I’m... nothing, I thought it was going to... come.’ You panted. ‘Babies don’t come that fast, do they?’

‘I... don’t know. Love, I’m so sorry.’

Harry gently picked you up and carried you to your bedroom.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. ‘Rest, darling. Don’t exhaust our little child here.’

------------

‘It’s a boy!’

You let out a choked sob, reaching out as the doctor placed your creation in your hands.

Everybody, Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Percy, Mr and Mrs Weasley had come to see you.

‘It’s so cute!’ Ginny whispered.

‘He’s beautiful.’ You spoke.

Your husband approached you.

‘C-can I?’ he asked.

You smiled and shifted over as Harry sat down, cradling the baby boy in his arms.

A tear escaped his eye.

‘James.’ You cooed.

‘James Sirius Potter.’ Harry declared, pressing a kiss to your temple.

After you had gone home, Harry had taken you to the nursery he designed for the baby weeks ago.

‘I love you so much.’ He muttered.

‘I love you too, idiot.’ You laughed. ‘And I love this baby.’

‘Hmm. Let’s make another one.’

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x yn #harry potter angst #harry potter x wife!reader #dad!harry #to be dad! harry #baby #pregnant

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soobmint · 4 years ago

Text

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

dramioneden · 4 years ago

Note

do you know of any fics where there’s a pregnancy scare or Draco accidental gets hermione pregnant?

Dramione Unplanned Pregnancy Fic Recs

Hi Nonnie, Sorry it has taken me soooo long to reply to this ask. To answer your question, yes I have a few (76) “accidental”/unplanned pregnancy Dramione fic recs to offer - because Draco and Hermione seem terrible at planning pregnancies. So I’ve broken this down into ones I’ve read & recommend and ones on my TBR you might want to give a try. I also categorized the fics into Teenage Pregnancies, Wartime Pregnancies, “Adult Draco and Hermione forget contraceptive” Pregnancies, Marriage Law Pregnancies and “Hidden” Pregnancies. So here is the ultimate guide to Dramione Accidental Pregnancy Fics, hopefully there is something on this list that will satisfy your ask. Happy Reading!

Teenage Unplanned Pregnancy:

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8th year Post-war healing coping, Head Boy and Head Girl, teenage pregnancy.

Always Mine - A Dramione Fanfiction by SamadiW

8th year, Head Boy and Head Girl. The unplanned pregnancy is more of a secondary/later arc. Main arc on development of relationship between Hermione and Draco. Mixes the right amount of angst with the right amount of sexy.

Fics on my TBR that you might want to try:

From Venice with Love by jamieblye

In Private by acro acro

Locked In by goldhorse

His Sweet Dream by Supernerd22

I Didn’t Know by TriDogMom

Of All the Idiot Things by Lady Imara

Unbreakable by cleotheo

What Happened After The Canaries by Silver Lioness

Wartime Unplanned Pregnancy

Recommended Fics

Broken Chains by Leave It At That

Another Dramione, where Harry and Ron escape, but Hermione is left behind. As Draco and Hermione are forced together by a very perverted characterization of Voldemort, they realize they must rely on and trust each other to survive Voldemort’s demands. Forming a tentative trust and rare magical bond, together they set about playing the roles expected of them until they can find escape.

Resistance by GracefulLioness @graceful-lioness

Very well written, 7th year divergent. Instead of spending the war camping with Harry and Ron, Hermione spends it camping with Draco after they escape a battle together.

The Importance of Breeding by Jessiy @jessiyl

Interesting twist on “what both sides of the war decide to do about the dwindling wizarding population”. Voldemort comes up with a “perfect mate” spell - guess who Draco’s perfect mate is?

Manor of Conception by psiphifan

Harry and Ron, escape without Hermione. As punishment to the Malfoy’s for letting Potter get away, Draco is given Hermione to “breed”, thereby sullying his pure blood line. As dark as the set up is, Draco and Hermione adjust to their predicament quite adeptly. A “wartime subversion” read that hurts a bit … but climaxes a lot).

Fics on my TBR that you might want to try:

The Gift of Joy by biscuitsforpotter @biscuitsforpotter

I Spy by gnrkrystle

The Power of Love by cleotheo

The Edge of the World by phlox

Balaur by two_ff

Tergeo by LadyKenz347 @ladykenz347

Consequences of War by NJ Coffee Queen

The Letter by RN2017

Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir by little miss moonlight

“Adults who forgot a contraceptive” - Future fic Unplanned Pregnancies

Recommended Fics

Precious Things by herbeautifullie @herbeautifullies

Beautifully told in a series of vignettes that take place every Christmas over a number of years. The author conveyed and developed Draco’s introspection as he falls in love with a family he never expected or wanted. Well written, emotional character/relationship study.

Liking by Ladyoneill

An adult affair between Draco and Hermione leads to adult conversations (with some input from Narcissa).

Fics on my TBR you might want to try:

A Year and a Day by Mistrus

Best Laid Plans by persephone_stone @persephonestone

Careless by wish123

A Series of Very Bad Decisions by damnedscribblingwoman @fearsometinywit

Unexpected Gifts by cryptaknight

Unintended Consequences by rainsrabble @rainsrabble

Knocked Up by dolphinroxy

The Side Witch & The Gift and My Witch & Her Gift by SeptimaBode

Once Upon a Night by longdistance

Ordinary People by inadaze22 @inadaze22

Surround Me by Taintedembrace

The Sweetest Downfall by xXBeckyFoo

A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy by Countess of Abe @countessofabe

Beautiful Mistake by pinayflava90

One Night Stand with Consequences Series by ruthy4vrsmoaked @ruthy4vrsmoak-ed

Constellations in Flourish and Blotts by MarshmellowMcGonagall @marshmallowmcgonagall

Gasping, Talking, Screaming, Crying by Gette

Heaven Forbid by empathaique

In the Heat of the Storm by xxDustNight88 @xxdustnight88

whispered through the trees by notawitch2580

Back to You by NJ Coffee Queen @mnem85

Circle by wanderlustfaery

Freedom’s Consequence, Rapture’s Reward by CelticSass

Marriage Law (but still unplanned) Pregnancy

I read and recommend all three fics in this sub-genre:

Desperate Marriage by x.Chrissy.x

Nice twist on the Marriage Law trope. After breaking up with their current fiancés when they find them cheating (Ron x Astoria), instead of letting the Ministry choose their spouses for them, they choose each other. Note: I don’t want to give spoilers away, but I think it should be noted that though it’s not tagged, be aware that a couple loses a pregnancy in this. As someone who has lost a pregnancy before, I was not put off by how it is handled, but found it emotional and relatable. There is an HEA and there is a happy healthy pregnancy and I did enjoy the fic completely even the emotional part.

Ninety-Five Percent by HufflePuffMommy @hufflepuffmommy

Draco and Hermione are 95% compatible - who would have thought? ;) I really enjoyed this marriage law fic - has courting quality to it, through all the tension and angst (and denial).

An Unconventional Escape by Ariel Riddle @ariel-riddle

Loved this twist on the “marriage law”. Voldemort has won and his wizarding world is facing population problems due to infertility of purebloods. He enacts a new law that purebloods can choose captive muggleborns as spouses. The only muggleborn for Draco is Hermione - and she’s suspicious, but clever enough to figure out his dastardly persona is more pretense for show.

Secret Child/Hidden pregnancy trope: Not only was the pregnancy an accident, it was kept a secret from Draco.

Recommended Fics

Amongst the Mango Trees by ViolaMoon @violamoonfanfic

Post-war, while in a happy affair with Draco, Hermione discovers his family has him engaged to Astoria, hours after she finds out she’s pregnant. She decides to leave and start over in Australia with her parents.

Breathe by RZZMG @rzzmg

In spite of a loving affair with Hermione, Draco feels obligated to see through his engagement with Astoria. But when he runs into a pregnant Hermione months after they break-up, he must dig deep to be his own man and not his father’s.

Seven for a Secret by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets

Anonymous sex during Beltane, has Draco putting pieces together when he encounters an 8 year old spitting image of himself.

Unspoken Words by LilithShade @lilithshadefanfic

Post-war, Future fic. Hermione and Draco have a one night stand. Nine months later, Hermione shows up at St. Mungo’s in labor. Draco is the doctor on duty.

Always You by Emerald2402

When there is trouble in paradise between Ron and Hermione, Draco just happens to be in the right place at the right time with a shoulder for her to cry on. A couple years later, the child she brings to St. Mungo’s with a fever, bears a striking resemblance to him.

The Trouble with Love Series by bentnotbroken1 @bentnotbroken1fanfiction

8th year Hogwarts setting. Accidental pregnancy is secondary arc, post-war coping/healing and Dramione affair primary arc. Note that the first in the series: The Pitfall is complete, but the second in the series is still a WIP (as of time of post 11/2020).

Fics on my TBR you might want to try:

Consequences of War by bentnotbroken1 @bentnotbroken1fanfiction

Aparecium by LadyKenz347

An Awfully Big Adventure by NJ Coffee Queen @mnem85

The Best of Me by MrsRen @mrsren

Choosing Destiny by AkashatheKitty @akashathekitty

Let There Be No More Curse by lexiatel @lexiatel

Nowhere Left to Run by FallenInDreams @fallen-in-dreams

Rose by longdistance

Second by LadyAlinor @ladyalinor

Seventeen by smithandbarrowman @smithandbarrowman

The Silver Dragon by KittenShift17 @kittenshift-17

Webs We Weave by mayghaen17 @mayghaen17

What’s in a Name by ImSlytherinatHeart

Full Body Control by lun27

Growing by the Minute by lozlol

Heartbreak and Horntails by AtHomewithWords

The Taste of Honey by Buzzy

#dramione #dramione fic recs #dramione fanfic #dramione fanfiction #dramione fanfic rec #dramione fanfics #pregnancy #accidental pregnancy #unplanned pregnancy #dramione fic #dramione fics #dramione fandom #ask #request

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strawberryama · 4 years ago

Text

True Lies

inspired by Baek A Yeong’s song - found here

content : tsundere!reader struggles to tell Kaeya what she feels constantly. With Ludi Harpastum around the corner, Kaeya is looking for a date, and ______ swears that she’ll get her feelings across this time.

You had tried so many times to confession. But every time you saw his stupid face, your mouth was moving before you could stop it. You had thrown every insult in the bookat the cavalry captain. But you never meant a single one. It was that stupid smile and the way he teased you though, that set you of each time. You’d feel your ears warm up and before you knew it, you were spitting out name after name at Kaeya. But you were determined to get the confession out and correct. You hadn’t given up yet.

On that particular day, you’d found yourself in the library. It was a rare moment that the library was empty completely, aside from Lisa. You browsed downstairs, looking about the rows and rows for something to catch your eye.

Your ears perked up then, though, hearing Lisa greet someone.

“Good afternoon. Can I help you find anything, dear?”

“Perhaps a date to this year’s Ludi Harpastum?” chuckled the voice.

“A date, hmm? Ah, I think I have just the person for you.”

“Oh, do tell?”

“______.”

Upon hearing your name, you nearly fell from your ladder. Thankfully it rolled with the direction you had leaned, and you grabbed onto it. You were quick to collect yourself and stop the rolling ladder. As far as the visitor knew, it was only Lisa in the library currently. Depending on the visitor, it may be in your best interest to keep it that way, you thought.

“_______? Pft! Nah, she hates me.”

“Hates you?” Lisa giggled. “Far from it, dear. Kaeya, why don’t you just ask her?”

“I’m certain of her distaste, Miss Lisa.”

“Oh?~ Kaeya...have you ever noticed, how it’s just you she yells at? Never Jean or I? Even Albedo, she’s calm around.”

“Yeah, cause she hates me”

“What about how her ears -?”

You began panicking at this and practically jumped from the ladder. Your books fell from your arms, and you took off sprinting. You found yourself tripping over piles of books, but didn’t bother to pick them up. You just kept going, running up the staircase. Upon getting to the top of the stairs, Lisa and Kaeya turned to you. You didn’t even glance at Kaeya, as you sped over to Lisa.

“Lisa,” you hissed, hands slamming on her desk. “I’m not a child. St-Stop it.”

“What was that? I’m sorry, dear. I don’t think I quite heard you.~”

“I can handle this, myself,” you growled through gritted teeth.

“Handle what?~”

You nearly screamed. That look in her eyes told you everything. She loved teasing you almost as much as Kaeya did.

“Stop that. Y-You- ... I..I can handle this myself.”

“Then go right ahead.”

Your heart was in your throat and you scrunched your eyes shut. Lisa was right, but that didn’t mean you liked it. Your hands were shaking and you inhaled, trying to collect your thoughts. This time, you would be honest. You wouldn’t be rude or mean. You’d get through finally. You just had to.

Turning around, you pursed your lips and looked up to the cavalry captain. He had that smug little smirk he always wore around you, and you opened your mouth upon seeing it. But you clapped a hand over your mouth, keeping it all inside. Breathe in. Breathe out.

You looked away from Kaeya, focusing on the wooden floor boards. Slowly, once you had collected yourself once more, you removed your hand from your mouth.

“I...I-I’d like to go, to Ludi Harpastum, with you,” you mumbled out. “I-I really would like to..”

Your eyes flicked up to see Kaeya, who for once in his god forsaken life, was silent. He looked amused but earnestly surprised and happy.

“See, I told you, Kaeya,” Lisa hummed. She gently placed her hands on your shoulders as she came around her desk. “______ would be a good date, after all! You just need to give her a little thinking space, hehe! So, what do you say?”

You felt his gaze on you and your ears began to heat up again. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for too long, so you settled for sneaking glances at him. And Kaeya’s expression slowly morphed into a pleasant, genuine smile.

“I’ll pick you up at ten, first day of festivities, then.”

#kaeya alberich #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya x reader #kaeya x female reader #genshin impact #genshin #fluff #fanfic #genshin fanfic #kaeya #tsundere reader

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hotchnersbiitch · 5 years ago

Text

Hands of Another

A/N: I’m absolutely in love with this request. I hope you guys are too!! Buckle up my friends, its a long one.

Request: @jojosgirlkat1dluvr

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Category: Angst and fluff

Warning: kidnaping, violence, cursing

Word count: 2,003 ~ 8min

“Good morning good lookin,” Derek says cheekily as you walk into the bullpen, you chuckle as you make your way to your desk, Derek close on your tail.

“Good morning Derek,” you say with a sweet smile setting your bag down on your desk before flattening down your blouse.

“I need everyone in the briefing room, we got a case.” Your boss Aaron Hotchner says sternly as he walks into the meeting room.

“I’ll see ya in there sweet thing,” Derek says with a smile before turning to head to the briefing room, classic Derek you thought to your self. You would never admit it out loud but you had the biggest crush on your coworker and close friend Derek Morgan. You knew better than to think that you had a chance with him, you were nothing like the other girls he has dated in the past. There’s no way in hell he’d ever look at you as anything more than friends. You walk into the briefing room sitting next to Spencer.

“Hey, Spence.” You say as you sit down patting his back.

“Hi Y/N.,” he says with a smile as he hands you the case file. When you open it you couldn't help but cringe. You knew this was going to be a tough one.

“Our unsub is abducting women in St. Louis Missouri, between the ages of 20 and 30, he tortures them before killing them by strangulation. He’s dumping the bodies behind local hospitals.” Hotch says explaining the case to his team.

“It’s almost like he’s feeling remorse by dumping them outside the hospital,” Emily states looking at the crime scene photos.

“How would that show remorse, they are already dead the hospital can’t do anything,” Derek says.

“He thinks that by dumping them at the hospital gives them a ‘chance’ to be saved. He is clearly feeling remorseful after the fact.” You state before Spencer joins in.

“It is not unusual for unsubs to drop their dead or nearly dead victims outside of healthcare faculties, it makes them feel less guilty by thinking that they are going to be able to be saved making the unsub feel like he’s almost doing the right thing.” Spencer elaborates and you nod in agreement.

“Either way we have a killer on our hands and we need to hurry before he kills again. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch says before walking out of the room.

“Let's go catch this guy team.” You say before heading to your desk to get your go-bag and head to the plane.

When the plane lands in St. Louis you and the team head straight to the police station to get to work, the whole team knew there wasn't much time until he strikes again. There wasn’t much done besides addressing the profile and checking out the crime scenes.

“This guy is good Hotch.” You say standing next to him as you both survey the scene.

“Yeah, but we’re better. We better head to the hotel, there's not much we can do, and we're running out of daylight.” Hotch says in his signature authoritarian voice.

“I’m going to stay behind and look around some more, we are missing something, I just know it.” You say, your boss lets out a sigh before nodding, he knew better than to argue with you. You were just so passionate about every case, you could never sleep on a case until it was solved. Hotch gathered the team, before everyone left Derek came up to you.

“You comin’?” Derek asks placing a hand on your shoulder, you could almost feel yourself physically melt under his touch.

“No, I told Hotch I’m going to stay behind and look around some more. There's something here we're missing, I’m going to find it.” You say and Derek chuckles, shaking his head.

“I know you will, you're good at what you do. Be careful, call me when you get to the hotel okay?” You smile a soft blush forming on your cheeks at his sweetness.

“Of course,” you say before Derek walks off and your team heads to the hotel for the night, leaving you alone with the other officers that were still cleaning up the scene. You walk around the scene surveying different areas behind the hospital. By the time you made it to the other side of the building the cops were gone, they offered to wait but you insisted they went, you had your gun and your SUV was only a few yards away. Besides, you weren't afraid of this guy you knew he was a coward.

You walk up to a dumpster, you don't remember you or anyone else checking it out earlier you went to step up to look into it when you felt something cold press your back.

It was a barrel of a gun.

You closed your eyes knowing exactly who it was, your unsub.

“T-take your gun out and put it in the dumpster. N-now!” the man demanded, you knew better than to argue with him.

“Alright, alright,” you mutter as you slowly pull the gun out of your holster before reaching up and dropping it into the dumpster.

“I’m going to l-lead you to my car, you scream or try to run your d-dead.” the man stammers out, he was nervous you figured he would be, this isn't what he's used to. He’s becoming bolder you knew he would kill you if you resisted him. He pushes you to the car jabbing the gun into your back to hurry you up. Once your in the back seat he pistol whips you, then everything went dark.

Back at the hotel, Derek was waiting for you to call or at least text him to let him know you made it to the hotel. It wasn't unusual for you to stay behind at a scene, you always felt like you could see things clearer when you were alone. And most of the time it did work, you'd discover something you missed before, it was almost like a sixth sense to you. Derek nervous about your whereabouts got up and went to Hotch’s room knocking on the door, he promptly answered looking tired as always.

“Did Y/N come and get her hotel key from you? She hasn't texted me she's here yet so I didn't know if she got her key and maybe fell asleep forgetting to let me know or something.” Morgan explained, Aaron could tell he was worried.

“No, she did not. Call her.” Hotchner ordered feeling much more alert now at the fact he didn't know where one of his agents was.

“Straight to voicemail Hotch, this isn't like her,” Derek said running his hands over his head.

“Gather the team...now!”

You woke to ice-cold water being poured over you, you gasped and quickly sat up shocked. You looked up and saw the unsub standing over you, an evil smile on his face. Out of nowhere, he yanks you up by your hair, you yelped in pain, you tried to fight back but to no avail. Your hands and feet were bound, the man laughed before dropping you on the floor, you take in a deep breath, you didn't want to fall apart in front of the man. You didn't want him to know you were scared and make him feel powerful.

“My team is going to find you!” You yell but only to be silenced by being kicked in the face, you could taste the blood in your nose and mouth.

“No they won’t, you're all too stupid to find me. I sat there and watched you all search the scene and no one even noticed me. You'll end up just like the rest of them.” He says that evil smirk still plastered on his face.

“Fuck. You.” You state looking him dead in the eyes, his face filled with pure rage at your words. He immediately started beating you, kicking you in the stomach and back repeatedly, stomping on your head, punching you in the face. You tried to take it for as long as you could but the pain was becoming too much, tears started running down your face, mixing with your blood. The man smiled grabbing you by your face making you look at him.

“Not so tough now huh? Bitch.” he said before spitting in your face and kicking you in the head, you were out like a light.

You were awakened again, but this time by the man's hands around your throat. You panicked, this was it, you were going to die. You didn't know how long you were out or how long you have been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? You had no idea, all you knew you were scared and wanted out, you tried to squirm under him but he only tightened his grip on your throat. So tight you could feel your trachea being crushed under his grip, you felt like you were about to pass out.

“FBI! Step away from her!” You instantly recognized Aaron's voice, thank god. Your relief was cut short when the man ripped you off the floor and put a blade against your throat. You were gasping for breath your eyes wide as you stared at the wonderful team before you, they were your family, you didn't want to die in front of them.

“Let her go!” Emily yelled stepping closer to you and the unsub, bad move. The man pressed the knife harder against your throat, he was about to drag it across your neck before gunshots rang out and you fell to the floor again. Derek rushed to your side cutting off the rope that was keeping you bound together, you were still gasping for breath from almost being strangled.

“MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC IN HERE NOW!” Derek hollered before looking down at your battered face.

“You're okay pretty girl, you're gonna be okay.” He said tears stung in his eyes, you started crying clinging to him as EMTs rushed to your side loading you on to the stretcher.

“Morgan you ride with Y/L/N and we will meet you at the hospital,” Prentiss instructed and he nods running after you, getting into the back of the ambulance with you. Derek held on to your hand as the EMTs addressed your less serious wounds and hooked you up to a morphine drip.

“I knew you guys would find me.” You say your throat feeling incredibly sore, Derek nods kissing your knuckles, you blushed but you didn't care you were in pain.

“I wouldn't ever leave until we did. I promise to make sure you're never hurt at the hands of another again. I promise.” Derek says tearing up, you were honestly quite shocked at his reaction.

“Derek, why are you so worked up. It is okay, I’m okay. They got me hooked up to drugs, I feel better already.” You say with a small chuckle trying to lighten the mood but Derek didn't budge.

“No Y/N I’m serious. I love you so much and I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it to you. Then he took you and I was so worried I was never going to be able to tell you how I really felt.” He says tears now streaming down it his cheeks, you were flabbergasted at his confession, you started crying too squeezing his hand that was still holding on to yours.

“I love you too Derek. I’ve been afraid to admit my feelings also.” You say softly and Derek smiles kissing your hand.

“I’m going to protect you, I'll never let anything like that happen to you again. I promise.” He says standing up in the ambulance and placing a soft kiss on your busted lip before sitting back down. You just smiled at him, you knew he would. At that moment you knew that Derek would love and protect you to the best of his ability, and you promised to do the same for him.

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justalarryblog · 4 years ago

Text

🎆Thank You, Daddy by @recklessandbrave (10k) | Explicit

Harry’s hot, wet mouth is around him before Louis even has the chance to blink, and it feels so good, the icy sting of the frozen dessert disappearing as Harry’s soft tongue laps it up. After Harry swallows, he pulls off the head of Louis’ cock and then dips down to trail his tongue up the shaft, collecting the bits that dribbled down. “Yummy. Thank you, daddy.” He hums pleasantly.

Or the one where Louis gets an idea, and Harry wears panties

Part 2 of Pastel

🎆Stillness Is The Move by @turnyourankle (2k) | Explicit

Harry fails to follow instructions and requires punishment.

🎆And I know he’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb by @capturethesunset (3k) | Not Rated

Louis getting wrecked by jealous Harry.

🎆give and take by @sky_reid (1k) | Explicit

sometimes louis just needs.

🎆we’re still going, eight in the morning by @nooelgallagher, @yoursongonmyheart (31k) | Explicit

Harry washes his hands quickly before grabbing his phone. His screen lights up to 3 notifications.

DJTommo is now following you!

@DJTommo mentioned you in a tweet!

Direct Message from @DJTommo!

Harry yelps, throwing his phone to Niall who just barely catches it.

Niall looks down at the phone, seeing first the tweet, then the DM. He tosses the phone back to Harry, who nearly drops it. “What are ya doing, mate! Answer him!”

Harry thinks for a moment about what he wants to say. This is his chance to actually talk to Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson messaged him directly. He can say anything he wants. He begins typing, his fingers shaky.

Niall comes over to stand next to Harry and peers down, looking to see what he wrote. When he does, he lets out a groan.

…Or, the one where Harry owns a bakery, Louis is a radio DJ, and Niall and Liam roll their eyes at their incessant flirting.

🎆When I hear your cries, praying for life. (I will be there) by @brokenbeauty (5k) | Explicit

Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo….. ;))))

🎆St. Austin’s School for Boys by @domtommo, @winsomefreak (100k) | Explicit

St. Austin’s School for Boys is a correction school for young men that uses corporal punishment as their means of discipline. After one too many infractions, Harry Styles is sent there till graduation. Upon arriving Harry meets his dorm advisor who also happens to be the first year sex-education teacher and footie coach, Louis Tomlinson. Harry falls in absolute adoration for the teacher and is all too ready to drop down onto his knees for him. During his stay he learns some very interesting things about himself… Welcome to St. Austin’s School for Boys, where the hallways are filled with love, drama, and sex.

Part 1 of St. Austin’s School for Boys

🎆I’m Gonna Love You (Until You Hate me) by @sweaterpawstyles (8k) | Explicit

As if reading his mind, Louis glanced over his glasses at Harry, presumably because Harry didn’t reply to his statement earlier.

“I decided to get my glasses out again,” he chuckled, winking at Harry. “Do you like them?“

Harry felt his face heat up. No, he didn’t just like them. He fucking loved them and wanted to ride Louis and call him daddy while he wore them. But he didn’t want to just tell Louis this.

Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn’t like to be teased

🎆jump in the deep end by @istajmaal (4k) | Explicit

Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself—what if I’m not clean enough, what if Harry hates it, what if Harry pushes me away—but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s.

or, Louis’s arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.

🎆daddy daddy cool by @sky_reid (6k) | Explicit

harry wakes up hard.

🎆Truth Be Told (I Never Was Yours) by @JustForTommo (76k) | Explicit

Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.

It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table, and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.

(or the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.)

🎆This Feeling orphan_account (58k) | Explicit

“Gonna play it back for you now.” Louis clicked play and the song flooded through Harry’s headphones.

The sound of each others voices united into one, and the rhythm of the music carried their voices effortlessly. Harry’s insides tingled and a wave of shivers rolled down his spine.

Before the clip cut off, Harry turned to raise an eyebrow at Louis, and failed miserably at disguising his smile. Louis stared back at him in shock.

Or A Larry Duet AU

🎆The Night Sky is Changing Overhead orphan_account (124k) | Explicit

“Um, sorry, but I believe that’s actually mine,” Harry said a bit awkwardly, pointing at the cup.

The man huffed, slightly narrowing his blue eyes, “Nope, large Americano, dash of cream.” He held the coffee up closer to Harry and honestly, Harry knew exactly what was in the cup because it was his coffee.

“Right,” Harry slowly drawled out as if he was talking to a toddler, “Which would make that mine.”

“Look, I really don’t have time for this, I’m running late. And this,” he said before he took a sip from the cup, “Is mine.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he held his hands out, failing them slightly, “Wha-you can’t just drink it!”

“Well I did, so, do you still want it or can I be on my way?” The man challenged.

Harry shook his head disbelievingly, “Take it, but for the record, it says Harry on it.”

The man turned the cup around and a sharp laugh came out of his mouth, “Well, shit.” He looked at Harry, a smile stretched across his face as crinkles formed next to his eyes. “Thanks, Harry.”

🎆The Arrangement by @daddyy_harryy, @HyFrLarry1224 (218k) | Mature

Louis knew it was his time. Once anyone turned 13, they were watched. And when they were 16 it could be any time. Anytime they could be taken. It was just weeks after his 16th birthday and there he was, sitting in the back of the van.

Louis is forced to marry Harry and bear his children. He is to listen to Harry and do as he says, no matter what. Speaking is a given, and freedom doesn’t exist. Will the sixteen year old boy find himself falling in love with the Leader of the British Mafia? Or will he find himself stuck in a place he doesn’t want to be, with an abusive asshole for a husband?

🎆Something in the World Today by @whoknows(48k) | Explicit

It shouldn’t be a surprise, the first time that Louis drops to his knees in front of Harry. It shouldn’t be, because it’s been something that Louis has needed for a long time. It shouldn’t be, because he’s been crawling out of his skin for weeks on end. It shouldn’t be, because Harry always makes him feel better. It shouldn’t be, because he’s needed this even when he didn’t know that he needed it.

Somehow, it still is.

🎆I Cannot Dream Tonight Series by @afangirlfantasy (50k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

🎆Don’t Waste Your Time On Me, You’re Already The Voice Inside My Head by @afangirlfantasy (28k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

🎆His Submission Series by tonystankyall (orphan_account) (152k) | Mature

Louis Tomlinson lives in a world where Domination and Submission is a norm. When you are born you are either branded Sub or Dom. Subs get a little pink or blue, depeneding on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck. Doms get Red or Black, depending on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck.

Louis Tomlinson was branded with a Blue tattoo and his day has finally come. The day of his 18th birthday where he will be randomly assigned a Dom. This dom could range from younger to older, poorer to richer, and male to female. You never knew what you were going to get. Some Doms were more harsher and stricter than others. Louis didn’t want a harsh Dom to submit to.

Harry Styles was branded with a Black tattoo and he just recieved in the mail that he was finally getting a submissive. Harry was a 32 year old man, settled in, and very very rich. He’s been waiting for an assigned submissive to be chosen for him for a very long time. His Dom friend, Zayn, has gotten his submissive two years prior, a little spit fire irish boy, Niall.

*The rest is in the note*

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

🎆driving instructor fic by @LoadedGunn (104k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who’s really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

🎆Loving You Is Free by @littlelouishiccups (91k) | Explicit

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

🎆sex shop fic (dildornado ‘verse) by @istajmaal, @LoadedGunn (96k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is the most helpful sex shop salesperson in the history of sex shops, and Harry really was just looking for a vibrator with simple instructions (yet ended up getting a hands-on demonstration).

🎆welcome to the mansion by @blankiehxrry (7k) | Explicit

Harry is a Playboy bunny.

🎆Wild and Rain by @softandslow (45k) | Explicit

Louis has been looking after Tessa since he was sixteen. Harry’s a man in a business suit who has loved his daughter’s babysitter for three whole years.

🎆A Million Years by @sunflowerstyles (3k) | Explicit

Louis always ends up feeling guilty that he’s not ready to give Harry what he wants. Harry shows him how much fun they can have while they wait together.

🎆Can’t help but touch myself by @Tita (7k) | Explicit

“I asked what these were, love.” Harry gulps. “Panties,” he explains with heated cheeks, needing more than the light touches from Louis and getting nothing. “What did you get them for? Were they to impress someone else?” He asks, and Harry shakes his head fervently, stumbling over his words as he tries to get his tongue to cooperate. “No, no,” he emphasizes, arching his back to plaster himself to Louis. “For you, always for you, Daddy.”

🎆Champagne by @fanshae (2k) | Explicit

“Look at how pretty you are,” Louis murmurs, Harry’s stockinged toes curling against the floor at the praise, “Give Daddy a twirl, baby.”

🎆connoisseurs of comfort by @sky_reid (45k) | Explicit

louis has only really had his flat to himself for a few weeks when liam knocks on the door and brings him a new flatmate. this one turns out to be a bit different though.

🎆Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

🎆Give It Up To Me by @krisstylinson (8k) | Explicit

“You’re going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge,” he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

“And?” Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis’ arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. “What if I wanted you to?”

Or the cliché where Louis isn’t supposed to come but he does, and that can’t go unpunished in Harry’s eyes.

🎆just want to make love to you by @beautlouis (3k) | Explicit

Louis has a lapful of Harry before the car has even closed and maybe he should be a bit concerned about that, judging from the look in Liam’s eye, but it’s hard to worry about anything when Harry’s wriggling against him, warm and insistent.

“’m so hard,” Harry pants against his ear, “Been this way since we got off the stage, want–want you to fuck me, yeah, I want–”

*the aftermath of the xfactor performance where harry went wild

🎆my one and own (i wanna get you alone) by @beautlouis (6k) | Explicit

Louis’ favorite thing to do is make Harry come. It’s the best feeling in the world, watching the boy he loves fall apart underneath him; to see how good it feels for Harry, in every line and movement of his body.

Louis pushes a thigh between Harry’s and grinds just enough that Harry sighs gently and ruts his hips back into Louis. Holding Harry’s waist firmly, Louis presses his lips into Harry’s ear and says, “I think I’d like to make you come.”

It isn’t as if they don’t both know that’s what tonight is—Louis making Harry come—but the verbal acknowledgment of it makes Harry moan sharply and turn his head to try to pull Louis into a kiss.

🎆Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

🎆To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

🎆Wake Me Up by @larrystylins (2k) | Explicit

Harry stretches and accidentally pushes his bare bum into Louis’ crotch. Oh. That’s definitely Louis’ cock. Okay that’s definitely the outline of Louis’ hard cock pressing against him. “Lou?” he whispers. Of course Louis is fast asleep..

or Harry wakes up to Louis’ morning wood pressed against his bum. Harry gets needy. Louis wakes up and punishes him.

🎆You Don’t Need Me To Show The Way by @LoadedGunn (6k) | Explicit

But right there, on Harry’s iPod, is a folder entitled Lou Sappy Sappy Long Indie Hipster 80’s Love Songs Mixtape.

Louis expects a sappy mix tape. He might even expect his own shitty versions of Foo Fighter songs. What he doesn’t expect is clicking on “AUD-20101223” and suddenly hearing loud moaning. He gasps and scrambles to pause it, so shocked the iPod drops right to Harry’s stomach. Harry looks absolutely mortified, even more than he did when Louis played High School Musical. He’s blushing so furiously his face bypassed rosy straight to flaming red, and his mouth is closing and opening like he can’t think of a single thing to say.

Then Louis starts laughing uproariously. “Hiiii, I’m Harry from Cheshire, when I’m on the road I like listening to indie music and gay porn.”

Or, 2011 fic where Harry rides dick for the first time and Louis appreciates technology.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

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hexmione · 5 years ago

Text

The Quidditch World Cup and The Dark Mark - Fred Weasley Series Part 2

A/N: I really should be doing my school work but I was struck with inspiration and I decided to write part 2 to this Fred Weasley series! This might be a little dramatic but I hope you enjoy. This part is also quite long... Nevertheless, I still hope you enjoy.

This is Part 2 of my Fred Weasley x Reader series! Here is the link to the FIRST chapter “Journey to the Quidditch World Cup - Fred Weasley Series Part 1”

Description: (Y/N) Potter experiences rising anger levels at the Quidditch World Cup, but nothing would prepare her for how she would feel after.

Warnings: A tiny curse word!

Word Count: 2,708

Date Posted: September 10th, 2020

---

You, Harry and Hermione, worked out where the pegs and poles of the tents would go. Once you finished, you were sure that these looked like regular muggle tents.

There was no doubt that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, there would be no room for all eleven of you. You noticed that Hermione and Harry were having the same thought process.

The three of you shared a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley crawled into the tent, “We’ll be a bit cramped,” he called, “but I think we’ll all squeeze in. Come and have a look.”

You and Harry ducked down and made your way into the tent - you shared a look of astonishment. You had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. You scrunched your nose, oddly enough, there was a strong smell of cats.

You left Harry with the rest of the Weasleys and joined Hermione and Ginny in the tent you three would be staying in.

"Hey! How come your tent doesn't smell like cats?" Ron complained as he entered your tent.

You, Hermione, and Ginny let out a laugh at his misfortune. Ron rolled his eyes, "Hermione, (Y/N), Dad wants us to go find some water while he the others are going to find firewood"

"Firewood? Why can't Dad just light the oven?" Ginny asked.

"That's what I said!" Ron exclaimed, "He said something about anti-Muggle security."

---

You, Harry, Hermione, and Ron set off across the campsite with kettles and saucepans. You were amazed at how many witches and wizards there were in the world.

The four of you began to walk in pairs, Hermione and Ron in the front, you and Harry in the back.

"Harry," you said.

"Hm?" Harry hummed, turning to you.

"What were you and the boys talking about?" You asked, "Right after Cedric left."

Harry flushed, "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

You rolled your eyes, "You're lying."

"No! I'm not!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry, you seemed upset," you said softly. You made sure to give him the best puppy-dog eyes you could manage. Over the years, you had been able to get anything out of Harry by using that one look.

You smirked as Harry groaned, "You know I hate it when you do that, (Y/N)."

"Are you going to tell me now?" You asked.

"It was nothing, (Y/N)! It was just something George said about Fred."

Your smirk instantly fell, "What about Fred? Are you upset with Fred? Is everything okay?" you asked, wringing your hands.

"I know that you're close to Fred and George, but why are you so concerned?" Harry asked with his brows furrowed.

"I'm not! I just-"

"Do you fancy him?" Harry asked abruptly, cutting you off.

"No!" You said, waving your hands. You felt your face flush.

"Yes, you do!" Harry exclaimed, "I know when you're lying, (Y/N)."

"Harry!" You hissed, "I don't fancy Fred!"

Once you said that, you watched as Harry's face drained of color, "You and Fred. Fred and you."

"What? Harry, what are you on about?" You asked, your face still feeling hot.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Harry said, sounding stern.

Before you could respond, green clouded your vision, "Er — is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?” said Ron. You had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. From behind the four of you, you heard your names.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! (Y/N)!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, your fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

Before the four of you went to join them, Harry pulled you back, "We'll talk about this later."

You rolled your eyes, you knew your brother could be dramatic at times, but this was completely unnecessary, "I thought you said it was nothing!"

"It is," Harry said as he walked ahead to join Dean and Seamus.

Hermione gave you a look, you rolled your eyes and mouthed, "I'll tell you later."

She nodded in understanding as you all joined Seamus and Dean.

---

“You won’t be getting anything for Christmas,” Harry told Ron, thrusting Omnioculars into Ron and Hermione’s hands. “For about ten years, mind.”

You laughed, "I hope you both know that he's lying."

Your money bags considerably lighter, you went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.

You made your way to Fred and George, "What in Merlin's name possessed you to give ALL of your gold to Bagman?" you asked in a hushed whisper.

"That, my sweet (Y/N), is for us to know, and for you to find out," George replied with a cheeky grin.

You looked at Fred for a moment and wrung your hands together. You hadn't spoken to Fred since Cedric left, "Fred, can we - can I-"

A deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, cutting you off. At once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. “It’s time!” said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. “Come on, let’s go!”

---

"Here’s Lucius!” Fudge called. You weren't paying attention to his schpeel about you and Harry to the Bulgarian minister.

You, Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly turned around. Right behind you and the Weasleys were no doubt the Malfoy family. You almost laughed at Draco's mother, as she was wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.

There was a tense moment between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. You remembered the fight they had in Flourish and Blott's right before you and Harry's second year.

“Good lord, Arthur,” Mr. Malfoy said softly. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?”

You scowled, "And who did you have to threaten, Mr. Malfoy?" You replied in a harsh whisper.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry turned to you quickly. Hermione gripped your wrist as a warning. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes looked you up and down, "Ah, the Potter twin. Draco has told me a lot about you," he said as his lip curled.

Fudge, who wasn’t listening, said, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”

Mr. Malfoy shot you a smug grin as he turned and stared Hermione. Hermione, who had turned pink, stared right back at him. You knew what he was thinking. You knew what people like the Malfoy family thought of witches and wizards of Muggle descent.

You felt the strong urge to spit on him right then and there, but Mr. Malfoy wouldn't dare say anything in the presence of the Minister of Magic.

Draco gave you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione a scornful look before settling himself between his mother and father.

"I could feel the anger coming off of you," Harry whispered.

"What?" You replied.

"It felt like you wanted to spit on him," Harry answered with a grin.

"I did," you said, "How did you know?"

Harry shrugged, "I just knew."

---

"He was about to jump from the box!" Hermione told you as you were all back in the tent, "I had to pull him back into his seat!"

"What are you guys talking about?" Harry said as he and Ron entered the girls' tent.

"How bloody stupid you two are!" Ginny exclaimed.

"You almost killed yourselves over some Veelas!" you added on. You weren't as upset as you made yourself out to be, but you enjoyed watching the boys squirm.

"It wasn't our fault!" Ron complained, "They're just so..." Ron trailed off with a dreamy look on his face.

"Ugh!" Hermione said with disgust, "Get out! Go to bed!" Hermione stood up from her bed and pushed the boys out. She groaned as she fell back on to her bed.

You and Ginny shared a knowing look as Hermione sat back up, "Anything you would like to tell us, 'Mione?" you said with a smirk.

"Hush!" Hermione said, "And don't act like you weren't upset when Fred was acting the same way!"

"Hey!" you said in protest, your face already feeling warm.

Ginny, who found this exchange absolutely hilarious, was rolling around her bed, laughing, and clutching her stomach.

"Oi! And you!" you said, staring pointedly at Ginny, "you looked as red as your hair when Hermione had to pull Harry down from the ledge of the box."

Ginny suddenly stopped laughing, and all three of you stared at each other in silence, all with red faces.

It only took a moment before you all began to laugh at your foolishness. The three of you were extremely close, seeing as you were surrounded by boys all the time. You loved your brother and the Weasley boys, but you, Hermione, and Ginny understood each other in a way the boys couldn't.

"Shall we go to bed?" Hermione asked.

You and Ginny nodded, suddenly feeling very tired.

Three "goodnight's" rang out through your tent. Hermione turned off the light, and you succumbed to the sensual temptation of sleep.

---

"Get up! (Y/N), Hermione, Ginny, wake up!" Mr. Weasley's frantic yells quickly roused you out of your sleep.

" ’S’ matter?" Ginny mumbled.

"No time! Grab your coats and shoes and meet the boys outside!"

You, Hermione, and Ginny quickly did as you were told. You knew something was wrong from the way Mr. Weasley sounded.

You rushed out of the tent, pulling a coat over your nightdress. You placed a hand over your mouth in horror as you saw a small Muggle child, who was spinning like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the tent, fully dressed with their wands out, "We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. “You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!"

They sprinted off, Mr. Weasley quickly on their heels.

"C’mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny’s hand and starting to pull her toward the woods. You, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. You all looked back as you reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; you could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

As you walked in a tight group, Ron yelled in pain.

"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that you and Harry walked into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid — lumos!"

"I tripped over a tree root," Ron mumbled angrily.

"With those big oaf feet you have, it'll be hard not to."

You, Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned. Next to you was Draco Malfoy, leaning smugly on a tree.

"Fuck off," Ron snapped.

“Language, Weasley,” said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”

His attention was directed at Hermione, "What’s that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly.

You were gripping your wand so tight, you were sure that your knuckles were turning white.

"Granger, they’re after Muggles," said Malfoy. "D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around... they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" you snarled.

"Hermione is a witch," your brother snapped. Just as he could feel the anger radiating off of you before, you could feel it radiating off of him now.

You decided to leave Hermione, Ron, and Harry and catch up with Fred, George, and Ginny. Hopefully, the trio would follow as you left.

When you reached the twins and Ginny, Ginny was the first to notice you.

"Oh, (Y/N)!" She cried in relief. She flung herself on you and gave you a tight hug, her face was red and splotchy as if she had been crying.

"We thought we lost you!" George said as he joined you and Ginny, "Fred was just about to go out of his mind."

Fred silently joined you and looked around, "Where are Harry, Ron, and Hermione?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" you said, "They're right here..." you turned around, and all you saw was the path you came. You assumed that once you left, the other three would follow you.

It was like your world had come crashing down. Harry and Hermione would be targeted, Ron being a pureblood would only do so much. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were practically defenseless.

You detangled yourself from Ginny, "I-I have to go," you managed to stutter.

"What? Are you mad?" Fred snapped.

"I have to find them! They're not safe!" you cried. Ginny took a step back next to George.

Fred moved forward, "You won't be safe if you leave! If you haven't noticed, you're (Y/N) bloody Potter! You're a target too!"

"Oh, so now that I'm in danger you want to speak to me! Fred Weasley, you have been cold to me this entire trip! I don't know what has gotten your wand in a knot, and I don't care! You are not the boss of me, and I will leave and find my brother if I please!" You yelled. You were furious.

"Well, I need to keep you safe!" Fred exclaimed. His face was flushed with anger, and you were sure your face looked the same way.

"You aren't a bloody hero! And I don't need protection!" You shot back. You turned to walk back into the woods but you felt Fred's arm snake around your waist.

"What are you doing! Let go of me!" You yelled. You were on the verge of tears at this point. Your brother and best friends were in unimaginable danger, and you couldn't help them. Harry was the only family you had left. Of course, you had your godfather, Remus, and you had your uncle, Sirius, but Harry was different. Harry was your brother.

"(Y/N), please, darling," Fred whispered in your ear. You had started to cry, heartbreaking cries that left bystanders cold and aching for loved ones they had been separated from. George and Ginny watched. Ginny, with tears, slowly running down her face, and George, with his face stoic, gripping on to his sister's hand tightly.

You and Fred sunk down to the ground, your face still hot and sticky with sweat and tears. You couldn't accept defeat, you needed to find your brother and the rest of your friends.

You pried Fred's arms off your waist and quickly stood up, "I'm sorry, Freddie. I have to go."

Fred looked up at you in shock from the floor. You didn't give a second thought as you quickly took off through the woods, leaving the three Weasleys in the clearing.

Fred stood up silently. He was still in shock. He watched the path in the woods, waiting to see if you would come back.

When you didn't, Fred turned around and kicked the tree Ginny and George decided to sit against. He slumped next to Ginny.

"Fred," Ginny sniffled.

"What?" Fred snapped harshly.

"Why do you have two wands?" Ginny asked timidly. She already knew the answer, but she hoped it wasn't true.

George turned to face his twin, "Oh, Fred. You didn't."

A cold wave of fear and regret washed over Fred, "I took her wand so she wouldn't hex any of us," he said slowly.

"But-" George started.

"Dammit!" Fred yelled, "She's out there with no wand!"

---

Quotes from the book used:

“We’ll be a bit cramped,” he called, “but I think we’ll all squeeze in. Come and have a look.”

“[He] had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen.”

“Er — is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?” said Ron.”

“[They] had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names”

“It was Seamus Finnigan, [their] fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.”

“You won’t be getting anything for Christmas,” Harry told [him], thrusting Omnioculars into Ron and Hermione’s hands. “For about ten years, mind.”

“[Their] money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.”

“And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. “

“It’s time!” said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. “Come on, let’s go!”

“[...] here’s Lucius!”

“Good lord, Arthur,” he said softly. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?”

Fudge, who wasn’t listening, said, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”

“smallest Muggle child, who was spinning like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side.”

“Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys’ tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out. “We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. “You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!”

“C’mon,” said Fred, grabbing Ginny’s hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.”

“What happened?” said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. “Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid — lumos!”

“Language, Weasley,” said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Hermione defiantly.

“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”

“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled.

---

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley series #harry potter fic #fred weasley oneshot

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