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okay-j-hannah · 10 months ago

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Part 1: Her Broken Heart

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: series rewrite, start of season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, health problems, lightheadedness, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Just a note that the reader will be in the dark for a while, meaning that lots of episodes/scenes will be skipped. Also, the heart conditions/problems the reader has comes solely from extensive research and isn't meant to be completely accurate - I did my best.

Part 1: Her Broken Heart {You Are Here}

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Part 8: The Favor

Part 9: The Weight of Decisions

You walk purposefully to your last class of the day, holding onto the straps of your backpack like your life depended on it. New school. Old town.

It was just so noisy.

The squeak of your sneakers was drowned by the bustle of the dozens of highschoolers weaving through the hallways. Side conversations rose in volume, laughter was piercing, lockers slammed metallically, and the morning bell rang with a sharp noise.

You avoid rubbing shoulders with your peers, but inevitably a lacrosse player rams into your side while chasing a ball. You put a hand protectively to your chest, a glimmer of pain dancing across your ribs.

Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe.

Walking into English, you eye the rapidly filling seats. You recognize most faces even if they don’t recognize yours. A few skittish steps forward and you spot the dark silhouette of Scott McCall.

The uneven beating of your heart seems to lessen at someone you could at least talk to amicably. He appears to feel the same as he finds your gaze and smiles crookedly.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he whispers encouragingly. “It’s nice to see you finally at school.”

You smile back, “Thanks, it’s good to be out and about.” You pick the desk beside him, closest to the window. “There’s a lot of people here.”

Scott laughs, “What did you expect?”

“Less than this,” you say, thumbing the syllabus in front of you. “I thought Beacon Hills was a small city.”

You hear a cough directly behind you, fingers drumming against the metal desk surface. You flit your gaze to Scott, but he merely rolls his eyes.

“(Y/N), this is Stiles. Stiles… meet (Y/N).”

You turn in your seat to see a closely shaved head, wrinkled hoodie, and widening brown eyes.

“Uh… hi,” he says.

You swallow hard, “Hello.” Your brow furrows, “You’re Scott’s best friend.”

Stiles nods, playing with his fingers, “Yeah, for years. And you are…?”

“Another friend,” Scott interjects, “Friend of the family.”

You feel warmth as Stiles leans forward in his seat, “A friend that I’ve never heard about?”

That made your stomach clench. Of course you didn’t have many close friends, more acquaintances than anything else, but it still scared you to think you’d be judged on that fact.

“We don’t talk much,” you say quietly, turning back around.

Scott had what you hoped wasn’t a pitying look in his eye when he got distracted by neighbors ruffling through papers; then to a pencil dropping; then to a charm bracelet clanking against a desk. With each new noise his head was whipping about.

You tried to read the first page of your syllabus when a gentle tap on your shoulder startles you. You contained the jump in your heart as you turned towards Stiles.

He spoke with a soft but urgent voice, “Are you new to the town?”

“No,” you answer shortly.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you at school before?”

“I was homeschooled until this year.” The anxious fist in your stomach continues to clench further. “I’ve lived here almost all my life.”

He continues to lean forward as the teacher rose to address the class. “How do you know Scott?”

“Our parents are friends.”

“How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

You give a breathy laugh, “Do you always interrogate newcomers or is this just your usual charm?”

He finally leans back in his seat, “I like a good mystery.”

Your smiling reply makes the corner of Stiles’ mouth quirk upward, just as the teacher declares:

“Stiles, are we really going to end the day with a detention?”

Stiles looks up, frowning, “No, sir – just welcoming a new face.”

“Yes, Miss. Westbrook. I’d suggest surrounding yourself with different company. We don’t want a tainted reputation now, would we?”

Scott put a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh as Stiles lifted his arms in silent outrage. You are stunned but feel a giggle rise in your chest.

The teacher continues, “As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.”

The laughter in your chest dies in a cough as you replay the teachers unfeeling words in your mind.

“And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester.”

There was a collective groan, but you had already started dating the semesters projects in your academic calendar. The different books you’d be reading were some of your favorite classics: The Scarlet Pimpernel, Jane Eyre, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Sense and Sensibility.

You could already see the outline for your midterm paper on the differences between loving with sense and loving with sensibility.

Then the classroom door opened, and a pretty girl walked in with someone from the office.

“Class, this is our new student Allison Argent.”

You silently thanked the heavens that you weren’t introduced like that to the entire sophomore class. But the introduction intrigued you. Perhaps you could befriend this new student as you were somewhat new yourself.

You met her quickly by her locker after class.

“Hello,” you say in your gentle voice, “I’m (Y/N). I’m new to the school too.”

“Oh, thank god,” Allison says, “Just when I thought I’d never survive the first day.”

You grin, “New kids on the block need to stick together. How are you feeling about the move?”

“I’m used to it,” she says, leaning against the wall of lockers, “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m not new to the city, just the school. I was homeschooled before this. Jumping into the school year in January isn’t preferable, but it’s better than listening to your mom lecture about the Pythagorean theorem while doing the dishes.”

Allison laughs just as another girl walks over to introduce herself and her boyfriend. This new face, Lydia Martin, was clearly a commanding personality. And you quickly quiet yourself as she speaks to Allison.

“So, this weekend, there’s a party.”

“A party?” Allison says, taking a step closer to you.

The boyfriend, Jackson, adds, “Yeah, Friday night. You should come.”

Allison clearly didn’t want to go, judging by how she closed herself off and turned towards you. She fumbles for something to say as you note how the two popular kids never acknowledged your presence.

“Actually, we’ve already made plans for Friday night,” you say quickly, the beating of your heart increasing as Lydia made eye contact with you. “I’m helping her finish setting up her room.”

“Who are you?” Lydia asks, surveying you with her wide eyes.

Allison interjects, “This is (Y/N), she’s new to the school too.”

Lydia seems satisfied in her findings, “Pretty.” She pulls on both of your sleeves, “Let’s go to lacrosse practice.”

You panic, “Oh, no – I actually need to head to the library. The first day came with a lot of homework.” You curse the lines of judgment creasing Lydia’s brow. “I’m sorry, I need to catch up.”

“You need to pick, sweetheart. Beauty or brains. You can’t have both in this school.”

You believe that to be blatantly untrue, but you apologize again as Allison gets dragged off. You sigh, steadying your heartbeats. Your mother will be coming soon to pick you up anyway.

~~~

It was another long evening shift at the hospital working in the clinic. You assisted with logging patients in, taking their medical histories, noting their blood pressure, and administering medications.

You were currently disposing of some items in the sharps container when Nurse McCall came around with a dirty gown and gloves.

“(Y/N)!” she says cheerfully, “How are you?”

You smile, washing your hands in the nearby sink, “Tired, but that’s not unusual.”

She gave you a motherly look, eyeing you like the nurse she was. “How’s your breathing? Have you gotten lightheaded tonight?”

“Nope.” That was a lie. “I’ve been doing great. I worked through the line waiting in the clinic. Now I’ve just got to clean up before heading home.”

She raises her eyebrows, impressed. “I wish your work ethic came in a bottle. I’d give a dose to my son.”

“Oh, you should give Scott more credit. He’s working hard on the lacrosse team, I hear.”

“Have you two… has he been…”

You give a soft smile, “He’s been talking to me in class, yes. He’s been very kind to me.”

“Good,” that seems to relieve her. “I know you’re not the closest of friends but starting school in the middle of the year can’t be easy.”

“No,” you say with a sigh, “But I think I’ve made a few friends. Scott and Lydia and Allison…”

“So are you going to the party tomorrow night?”

You give a weak laugh, “I don’t think I’m made for parties, Melissa.”

“I mean,” she laughs too, “Scott is taking Allison to that party – I figured if you’re all friends now then…”

“Oh,” you compose yourself, “No, I’m not going.”

“Shame,” Melissa folds her arms, “I would’ve liked a trusted pair of eyes on my son. I tell you he’s gotten all squirrely since coming back from winter break.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ll check up on Allison to make sure she’s alright.”

Melissa leans over and rubs your arm, “You’ve been working like a madman since the summer. We’re all very impressed with you, (Y/N). But you have a habit of doing too much and telling us too little. You have to promise me you’ll be honest about how you’re feeling.”

You brush her off, “How many times have we had this conversation?” You take a step back, “I feel fine. The summer tuned me up. I feel I can do anything now.”

“I like the confidence,” Melissa says warmly, but she still held worry in her eyes. “I’m just looking out for you. I promised your mom.”

You grimace, “Has she been bombarding you much?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

The pair of you share a laugh, “I wish she’d stop worrying.”

“We all worry,” Melissa sighs, grabbing a new box of gloves for the nurses station. “That’s what happens when you have people that care about you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you walk around her, “I gotta go before my dad waits in the urgent care drop off too long.”

“Hey, about that…” Melissa calls after your retreating form. “I was thinking about your carpool situation and maybe you and Scott could drive together. You know – so you don’t have to rely on your parents as much.”

Anything to get more independence from your parents. “I didn’t think Scott had a car.”

“No, he doesn’t. He gets rides from his friend Stiles. Maybe you could join them?” She watches your expression grow anxious, “Or you could ask your new girl friends?”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Lydia and Allison live on the other side of town in those big important houses with the four-car garages.”

Melissa shrugs, “Then ask the boys. Stiles is a little… odd. But he’s a good kid.”

“Thanks, Melissa,” you give her a tired smile, “I’ll see you over the weekend.” You pull out your phone as you head to clock out.

Your connected watch reports to you the steady heartbeat you’ve had during the day – just two rapid spikes. Swiping away the health report, you text Allison and wait for her replies as you head towards your father’s car.

“So you’re actually going to the party?”

“What can I say… Scott asked me.”

You smirk, “I saw that coming a million miles away.”

“Sorry about our hangout though, I was going to tell you at school tomorrow.”

“It’s alright. I’ll just get started on the chemistry homework for next week.”

“You don’t want to come with us?”

You scoff, “And be a third wheel? No thank you.”

Your dad continues a conversation about your workday as he drove out of the hospital parking lot. “Any big cases come in?”

“No, nothing particularly stressful. Maybe one guy who was nervous around needles.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’m proud of you sweetheart. And not a single fainting in five weeks.”

You lean your head against the window, suddenly glum, “Let’s hope it continues.”

~~~

Friday comes and you’re on the couch enjoying another read of Harry Potter. You were just getting to the confession scene in the Shrieking Shack when your mother came in with a cup of herbal tea.

“You seem a little quiet today,” she says, nestling into the opposite end of the couch.

“No more than usual,” you say, sipping the honey and herb concoction. “I usually spend Friday nights reading, mom.”

She nods, stirring her tea in thought, “Yes, usually. But in the last few months you’ve been branching out. Going to public school, getting a job at the hospital, making some new friends.”

“And while that’s all terribly exciting, I still enjoy a quiet evening with my books.”

“Of course,” your mother replies, “How have you been feeling?”

“Mom,” you groan, “I feel fine!”

She sat straighter, “You have had two dizzy spells this past week. It’s not a crime to ask how you’re doing.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I started school this week, I’m bound to be a little stressed about that, aren’t I? When I started my job at the hospital there were a few dizzy spells in the beginning, remember?”

“Yes, but you don’t tell us about them anymore. I have to pull up your watch readings to find out.”

“What’s the point? I can’t control them all. Sometimes they happen out of the blue.”

“Precisely,” she says louder, “Which is why it’s important to monitor them for your doctor’s appointments.”

You open your book in a huff, “Can we not talk about this anymore? It always puts the house in a mood.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Allison. Your mother peers over your shoulder to see if it was a notification from your health app.

“Allison is getting a ride home from the party,” you whisper, texting a reply, “I wonder what happened with Scott.”

“Weren’t they on a date?” your mother asks, relaxed now that she knew the cause of your phone lighting up.

You shrug, “I thought so. I’m going to check on her. I’m sure she’ll want to vent.” You get up with your book and find your sneakers. “Could I have a sleepover?”

Your mother battled the rebuttal of keeping you at home – to coddle you with her security. “As long as you have your medication I don’t see why not.”

“I can drop her off on my way to the firehouse,” your father says, adorning his firefighter t-shirt and cargo pants. It would appear he had another overnight shift.

Fifteen minutes later you were outside the Argent residence, Allison waiting by the front door to welcome you with her frustrations.

The home was tall with big, open rooms full of chandelier light. It was rich with mahogany browns and beamed ceilings. Allison was guiding you up the stairs after a quick introduction to her mother in the living room.

“I just don’t understand why he left me there,” she says with an edge, “I thought he liked me.”

“I think he does like you,” you say as you enter a beautifully decorated bedroom. “We have to remember he is a high school boy.”

Allison quirks a faint smile, “But to leave me at a strangers house… he has to know I’m new to the town. I don’t know anybody well enough to get some help! And I was not about to call my parents for a ride. That would’ve been reputation suicide.”

You clear your throat, recalling every instance your parents have carted you around, refusing to let you drive yourself. “Who gave you a ride anyway?”

“Someone named Derek Hale. He said he was a friend of Scott’s.”

You feel your uneven heartbeats pick up, “Derek Hale? He’s back in town?”

“Do you know him?”

“No, it’s just…” your mind wanders to old police reports your mother talked about and past newspapers on the dinner table. “There was a fire that burned up the Hale House years ago. Most of his family died in that fire. He hasn’t been seen for years.”

Allison crosses her arms, suddenly giving herself a kind of protective hug. “You mean, he isn’t a friend of Scott’s?”

“Not that I know of, but I’m as much of a new friend here as you are.”

“But Scott said you’re a friend of the family.”

“Yes, I do work with his mom at the hospital,” you fight to keep the Hale memories at the forefront of your mind. “But that doesn’t mean that I’ve hanged out with Scott much.”

Allison nods, still gripping her arms as creases of worry etch her face. “Why would Derek lie about being friends with Scott?”

“He didn’t try anything in the car, did he?”

“No!” she says quickly, “He was really kind, even held the door open for me. He just asked about my relationship with Scott.”

You could feel the beats in your chest stutter. They were loud in your ears, “What did you tell him?”

“Just that I met him this week. I got help from him at the veterinary clinic – I accidentally hit a dog – and he asked me to this party.”

You sit on her bed, afraid that your heart rate was increasing more, “Did Derek seem interested in just Scott?”

Allison thought about it for a few seconds before sitting in her desk chair, “Yeah, it was the only thing we talked about.”

“Which would make sense if that was the only thing you guys had in common.” You put a hand to your chest, hoping to steady yourself with some pressure. “But I still don’t think him and Scott have ever been close friends.”

“That’s slightly concerning,” she says with a shaky laugh.

You return it, trying to take a deep breath without making it too noticeable. “Other than the abrupt departure and unfortunate ride home… how are you and Scott?”

A genuine smile returns to Allison’s face, “He’s so sweet. You can just tell how nervous he is and it’s so cute. After being jumped by Lydia and her friends it was nice to meet someone more sincere.”

“Lydia can be a little overbearing,” you agree, checking your watch to see your heart rate drop to a more acceptable number. “And Scott really is a sweetheart. He can be a bit of a worrier, but I find those are the ones who care the most.”

Allison likes the calming reassurance until the sound of her mother’s voice pierced the air.

“Allison! It’s for you.”

The loudness prompts the two girls to their feet. Up on the walkway towards the staircase, the pair of you had a perfect view of the door… and the boy standing out in the cold.

“Stiles?” you say confusedly.

Allison’s mother left the door open as she returned to her spot in the living room. Stiles stood awkwardly under the porch light, “Uh… yeah, hi.”

“What’s going on?” you ask, leading the way down the stairs, “Is everything okay?”

“Is Scott okay?” Allison asks quickly, following you to the doorway.

Stiles rambled, hands on his hips, “Yeah! Yeah, Scott is fine.” His eyes lingered on you as he paused. You had an instant suspicion that he was lying. “He asked that I check up on Allison since he had to run out.”

“Well, I got home all right, no thanks to him,” she replied with a huff. “But he seemed off, like he was sick all of the sudden.”

Stiles took hold of the sudden excuse, “Yes! That’s what happened. Scott just got really sick out of nowhere, like really sick – like find me a bathroom right now kind of sick.”

You wrinkled your nose at his lack of a filter, “But you said he’s fine.”

“I mean, yeah now he’s fine,” Stiles said loudly, as if that would cover up his little slip. “He met with his mom at the hospital and she gave him some… treatment.”

Your pulse was picking up again at his obvious covering up, “You know what… I told Melissa I would stop by the hospital late tonight to get my new schedule. You just reminded me,” you smile easily, putting a hand to Allison’s arm. “Raincheck on that sleepover, I don’t want to keep Melissa up all night, especially if Scott isn’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, of course,” Allison said instantly, “And would you text me if you see Scott there?”

“Sure,” you smile, “Stiles?”

He looked to you with wide eyes, “Hm?”

“Could I get a ride?”

~~~

Stiles’ jeep was old and clanky, but in an endearing sort of way. You sat with your back more against the door than the seat, arms wrapped around yourself. Your heart hadn’t stopped beating rapidly. Any faster and you were worried about another attack.

“I’m sorry the heater doesn’t work,” Stiles said with a hint of embarrassment. He smacked the dashboard, “You look cold.”

“It’s alright,” you say quietly. You try to focus on the beats of your heart, willing them to calm down before you started to get lightheaded.

“You know what…” Stiles started to flail his arms around the wheel, trying to remove his suit jacket. He banged his head against the door before straightening out, “Here.”

You look at the outstretched jacket with endearment before quietly taking it, “Thank you.” You were much more graceful putting the jacket on, smiling at how Stiles mistook your concentration on your heart rate for being cold and uncomfortable.

“Now you need to tell me where Scott really is,” you say in your gentle tone.

Stiles suddenly gripped the steering wheel, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Scott isn’t really at the hospital. And I know something is going on with Derek Hale because he lied to Allison. And I have a funny suspicion that you know more than you were telling us.”

There was a twitch in his fingers as Stiles thought about how much to reveal, “You’re right. Something’s wrong with Scott. I don’t know exactly what, but I think he ran off and got lost in the woods.”

“He didn’t give you any hint as to why he would do that?”

“He’s just been acting weird the last few days,” Stiles continued, driving slowly. “When I saw him leave tonight and Allison get picked up… I went after him. But he ran away.”

You wrap the suit jacket closely around you, giggling at how the wide shoulders stuck out on your own frame. It smelled wonderful.

“This calls for a search party.”

Stiles looked worried and frantic again, perhaps still hiding parts of the truth from you. “You don’t mind wandering the roads by the woods? I could still take you…”

“No, I want to help,” you say against your better judgement. Your heart rate still hadn’t gone down. “Let’s start on the north side closest to where the party was at.”

It was already past midnight by the time you started scouting the woods. You kept your eyes out the window, tightly bound in Stiles’ jacket. Your heart rate remained high, the lack of proper oxygen to your brain was starting to make you feel woozy.

Your mother was not going to be happy when she checked your watch monitor.

“Hey, you alright?” Stiles asked, “You need to sleep?”

You shook your head, wincing at the slow motion feeling it produced. “No, I can stay awake.”

“It’s not a problem, really. I can drop you off at home.”

“That’ll waste time when we could be searching.” You sit up straighter in an attempt to expand your lungs. “I just need to take a breath.”

Stiles kept looking towards you just as much as he was looking in the surrounding forests. “How close are you and Scott?”

“Not very,” you say, “I’ve met him a couple times with his mom. Our parents are closer than we are.”

“And you’ve lived here most of your life and yet I’ve never met you before.”

You smile, trying to anchor yourself in your surroundings. It was another attempt to control your heart rate.

The smell of Stiles’ jacket. The rough road beneath the tires. The stale, cold air of the jeep. The sound of Stiles’ investigative voice.

“I don’t get out much.”

He laughed, “Then why the sudden change?”

“I felt like it.”

“Woman of many words,” he smirked, “You said you knew Derek Hale lied to Allison. What do you know about the guy?”

You sigh, “Just a little about his past with the house fire. My mom was a part of the dispatch call that handled the case.”

“Wait, did you just say a dispatch call?” Stiles jumped in his seat, “As in, your mom is a police officer?”

“No,” you laugh at his quick movements, “She works at the front desk helping transfer calls between civilians and officers. She hasn’t been on the active force in many years.”

Stiles had a comical scrunch on his face as he thought for a few seconds, “Your mom is Angela Westbrook? Front desk Westbrook?”

You nod, a strange furrow in your brow, “And you know her because?”

“Because my dad is the town sheriff!”

“You’re a Stilinski?”

Stiles had a shock of energy zip through him, “Yes, a Stilinski! I can’t believe our parents work together.”

“Your dad has been to my house a few times,” you say, amazed at the connections. “I wonder why he never mentioned me.”

“I guess I knew Mrs. Westbrook had a daughter, I just didn’t realize we were the same age.”

The hours ticked by as the pair of you searched the woods by the road. You both thought you’d seen some flashlights and decided to avoid them. Stiles came up with the idea to search by foot away from the woods for a mile or so.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare flashlight in the back,” he unbuckled his seatbelt.

You sit straighter, “I mean, wasn’t there a dead body found out there earlier this week?”

“The police are handling it.” He steps out of the car to grab his flashlight.

You stay where you are, uncomfortable with the idea of standing up when your heart rate was so close to an attack. You were lightheaded enough that the rush of standing would not bode well.

Stiles came around the other side with an exaggerated expression on his face as he opened your car door. “Forgotten how to use the handle?”

“No, I’m just…” you tug on the jacket sleeves. “I’m a little lightheaded to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” his face fell into concern immediately, “Is something wrong?”

You smile shakily, “Not at all,” you lie through your teeth. “Just be prepared to catch me if I fall.”

Stiles seemed to take that with the most seriousness as he backed up and held out a hand, “I got you.”

You struggle to breathe as you clamber out of the vehicle. You hold tightly to Stiles’ outstretched hand and wait for the inevitable feeling of the blood rushing to your legs. Your head felt empty, and stars started to twinkle in front of your eyes.

Stiles held onto your hand and put an arm around your shoulders as you swayed, “Woah, you weren’t kidding. You alright?”

After a few seconds leaning into him, squeezing his fingers with light pressure, your breaths started to come easier. Your head became clearer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You let go of him, checking your watch to see that your heart rate decreased to an acceptable amount.

Stiles backed away quickly, rubbing his hands awkwardly down his pants. He was hesitant to look at you when he replied, “No problem. Does that happen a lot?”

“Oh, you know…” you start venturing towards the tree line, “People get head rushes when they sit too long all the time.”

“Right,” Stiles said faintly, jogging to catch up to you. He clicked on the flashlight and aimed it towards the trees. It was dark and misty and cold. The pair of you kept hearing rustlings between the tree roots and bumping into each other.

You could have sworn you heard howls and growls, but it must’ve been the wind.

“Can I ask why you weren’t at the party?”

“You can, but the answer is boring.” You cross your arms, the too long sleeves engulfing your hands. “I don’t go to parties.”

“Because?”

“Because they make me lightheaded,” you say with a smile.

Stiles tried to pick that apart, but smiled, nonetheless. “You know the more I try to get to know you, the more confusing you become.”

“I thought you liked a good mystery.”

“I do,” Stiles confirmed, shining his flashlight up through tree branches, “I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Sorry, I’m a pretty tightly sealed book,” you shrug, “I can be very evasive.”

“And I can be very persuasive,” Stiles mocked, using a silly voice.

You bump into him again, sort of on purpose and less because you tumbled on a stray twig. “You already know plenty about me.”

“Let’s check the list, shall we?” he chuckled, “You were homeschooled. Your mom works at the station. You suffer from frequent lightheadedness. You don’t get out of the house much. And you’re already a part of the pretty girls club.”

“Excuse me?” you laugh, “The pretty girls club?”

Stiles kicked at the leaves, “Yeah, you know Lydia, Allison… you.”

“Stiles Stilinski, did you just call me pretty?”

He comically puffed out his chest, “In a roundabout way, yes I did.”

You chortle, “See you know a lot about me already. We’ve only known each other three days.”

“You’ll find I can be very determined, (Y/N),” Stiles sighed, “I’ll figure you out soon enough.”

They continued their way through the woods until they came back to the car. It did not go unnoticed that Stiles went to help you open the door and climb into the tall vehicle.

The morning light was starting to peek over the horizon by the time they got back to the roads. The pair of them were starting to grow more worried by the minute. It wasn’t a friendly search party anymore.

“I hope he’s okay,” you say quietly.

Stiles looked your way before resting his hand against the stick shift between you. “We’ll find him. Or he’ll text me as soon as he gets to a phone.”

You lean towards the dashboard, “I guess we’ll find him first.”

Walking along the side of the road, pants covered in dirt and his shirt missing, was Scott. He looked ruffled.

“What happened to him?” Stiles murmured as he pulled over.

“What happened to his shirt?” you say just as quietly. Stiles shot you a look as you strip yourself of his suit jacket.

Scott came to the door and looked shocked to see you handing over the coat. “(Y/N)?”

“Scott,” you say with a smile, “Get in.”

You scoot over to be in the middle. Stiles immediately yanked his arm away as your thigh got in the way of how he was resting his hand on the stick shift. You rubbed shoulders again as Scott got comfortable.

“Long night?” you ask.

Scott rubs at his eyes, banging his head against the window, “You have no idea.” He suddenly turns to you, pressing into your side, “How is Allison?”

“She’s fine,” you say, “I’m a little more worried about you.”

“You know what actually worries me the most?” he grumbles.

Stiles licks his lips, “If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the head.”

“She probably hates me now,” Scott frowns, turning to you with regretful eyes.

You take pity on him, rubbing his shoulder, “She’s upset with you, but she doesn’t hate you.”

“But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology,” Stiles says candidly.

Scott groans, leaning against the headrest. You sit scrunched between them, almost scared to lean into either one. “I hear you were really sick last night. Though I don’t see how that explains your lack of clothing.”

“Night sweats,” Scott mumbles, “When I couldn’t sleep through it at home I decided to take a walk through the woods.”

“That’s a long walk,” you say, “Don’t worry, I’ll put a good word in for you with Allison.”

“Would you?” Scott says, looking at you like you were the answer to all of his prayers. “Could you make sure she knows how sorry I am?”

You pull out your phone to send that update text you promised her. “As long as you apologize in person too, I don’t see why not.”

“You’re an angel, (Y/N), thank you.” He bows his shaggy head to your shoulder before pouting against the headrest again.

“Could you drop me off a few blocks from my house? My parents think I’m sleeping over at Allison’s.”

Stiles nods, “Protective parents?”

“A little,” you smile.

“I’ll add that to the list,” he smirks. “I’ll have to open a full case file on you now.”

“That’ll be a dead end.”

Scott opens his eyes to peer at the pair of you, “Sounds like you two had as long of a night as I have.”

You yawn, “Stilinski here is trying to play high school detective. He’s on a role trying to figure out my criminal past.”

“Criminal you say,” Stiles drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “That’ll mean I need a corkboard and some red thread too.”

“What have you found out so far?” Scott muses, somewhat enjoying the change of subject.

“Not much.” Then Stiles points a finger at his best friend, “But you’ve known her longer than me – fess up. What do you know?”

Scott holds back a smile, “Did you figure out her mom works at your dads station?” After a swift nod he continues, “And that her dad is a firefighter?”

“Really?” Stiles says dramatically, “Any siblings?”

“Only child,” Scott continues, rubbing the tired from his eyes, “And she loves to read. Every time I saw her, she was always reading something.”

Stiles had a look of triumph on his face, as if it were a breakthrough in the case, “What book you reading right now?”

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” You point the directions to your street, “I’m at the end when Lupin turns into a werewolf.”

“A what?” Scott says, shooting forward.

The friendly banter between you and Stiles suddenly shifts into surprise, “A werewolf. Haven’t you seen the movies?”

“Right,” he swallows hard, “It’s been a while.”

Stiles licks his lips again, “It’s ironic because last night was the full moon.”

“Oh, was it?” you hum, “That’s funny.”

~~~

You sleep off most of the weekend, having a lecture from your parents about the heart rate spike on Friday. You told them a night of rom coms and silly boy stories with Allison got you excited – that it was all fun and games.

You didn’t tell them you almost fainted because of it.

The next week was more enjoyable than the last. You excelled in your classes and spent your lunch periods reading in the library – you were already halfway through Sense and Sensibility for your midterm report.

Chemistry, History, and English were your favorite, most likely because your new friends were in those classes. Scott had become infatuated with Allison, especially after she had given him a second chance. Lydia was scheming something over her boyfriend being the captain of the lacrosse team. And Stiles was quickly becoming your highlight of each day.

He’d sit beside you during class and ask a personal question. “At least one a day,” he wagered, “I can ask at least one a day and get an answer.”

“As long as I reserve rights to refuse to answer any question.”

“I’m going to add those refusals to your case file.”

You’d roll your eyes, “Whatever you say, Stilinski.”

You were proud of the fact you hadn’t had another heart rate scare since the week before, meaning your body was adapting to the new stressful environment at school. That didn’t stop Stiles from insinuating you were going to have a lightheaded moment whenever you rose from your seat.

You never noticed how he prepared himself to grab you whenever you’d been sitting too long.

Chemistry had come around later in the week, you having arrived early to prepare the days experiment. Goggles adorning your face, you lit the Bunsen burner and tightened a flask of a chemical liquid above it.

Stiles skid over, sliding on his sneakers, “Hey, partner.” He threw his bag down and took the goggles you hand to him. He snaps them onto his face with a sharp, “ow.”

“I’ve started filling out the notes,” you say, observing how the liquid was starting to bubble with heat. “Why are you late?”

“I’m not late, you’re just early.” He sits on the stool beside you, resting his crossed arms on the tabletop. “Where were you at lunch today?”

You put a thermometer in the liquid, waiting for the right temperature, “In the library.”

“Is that where you always eat lunch?”

“You can’t eat food in the library, Stilinski.”

Stiles rubs at his nose fidgetily, “Scott and I were looking for you today.”

You pause, warmth filling your chest as you pour granules into the bubbling vial. “Sorry, I was reading for my book report.”

“(Y/N), book reports aren’t due for weeks.”

“Might as well get it done so we don’t have to worry about it,” you hum, writing down observations about the chemical reaction.

Stiles slumps a little, “Well, we missed you.”

“Scott just wants to gossip about what Allison thinks of him.”

“And what’s my excuse?”

You turn off the burner and remove the vial with tongs, “You’re trying to question me to continue your investigation.”

He sighs out a smile, “You’re right, of course. I haven’t asked you my question of the day yet.”

“I suppose I have no choice but to answer one,” you sigh with a smile on your face. “What do you have for me today?”

He was playing with his fingers when he asks, “Why do you spend lunch in the library rather than in the lunchroom with everyone else?”

You think about your answer carefully as you put away your supplies and let the vial cool down. “I don’t like being around a lot of people.”

“Why?” he presses.

You grab his goggles and snap them against his face, “Because it makes me lightheaded.”

He yelps and sways on his stool, “I’m beginning to think ‘lightheaded’ is code for something else.” He yanks the goggles from his face, and you snort at the deep lines they left around his eyes.

“Hey, there’s a science project that we need partners for,” you say as a way to change the subject. “Do you want to do it together?”

“(Y/N), we don’t have to do that project until the end of the semester.” He smiles at your antics of avoiding his questioning.

You shrug, “I like getting things done.”

He takes a deep breath, “Alright, at least I know I won’t fail the class if you’re helping me with the final project.”

After class the pair of you separate for final period, you heading to a different floor and running into someone at the bottom of the staircase. Someone tall and dark with light eyes.

That someone you recognize as Derek Hale.

You freeze on the last few steps, holding onto your backpack and feeling your heart beat unevenly again.

“You’re Derek.”

His face was cool and solemn, “What do you know about Scott McCall?”

“Why should I tell you?” Your arms erupt in goosebumps.

He steps closer, “Because I’m trying to help him. He needs to get it through his skull that I am not the enemy here. I need your influence in this.”

You hold back a scoff, fear overtaking that, “What business do you have with helping Scott?”

“Do you not know?” his eyes suddenly darken, “I thought you were one of his friends.”

“I am his friend,” you reply, “And I know people are suspicious of you.” A seed of doubt creeps up your spine, “I don’t like that a shady adult is creeping around the halls of a high school looking to make connections with students.”

He growls, actually growls much to your surprise. “I need you to tell Scott that I am here to help. I am innocent in whatever he thinks I’ve done.”

“What does he think you’ve done?” you ask quickly as Derek backs off.

“I can hear your uneven heart,” he says, turning around, “You should calm yourself.”

You put a hand to your chest, mouth agape at his retreating form. How the hell can he hear your heartbeat? A thrum of fear ripples through you as you run for your last class. You check the monitor on your watch until your heart rate was controlled before entering.

You didn’t see any of your friends until the next day. You were reading in the library over lunch again, finishing Sense and Sensibility and planning your report. You keep getting distracted by the whole situation with Derek and Scott.

What had the adult meant by befriending Scott? Why were you approached? What secret does Scott have that you didn’t know about?

You squeal as someone launches themselves over the library couch and sits beside you. Your cushion bounces as your heart leapt.

“Stiles!” you cry, “Don’t startle me like that!”

He nudges your shoulder, “Sorry, we were looking for you.”

Scott came around and sat on the arm of the couch, “It’s lunch.”

“Yes,” you say, “And I’m working on stuff in the library like I do every day.”

“No,” Stiles says, closing your book and stealing your pencil, “You’re going to join us for lunch today.”

You fight to get the pencil back, “I think I’ll just finish my report here.”

“(Y/N), there aren’t that many people in the lunchroom,” Scott says quietly, “And you’ll have us there.”

You stare Stiles down, “Did you tell Scott about my thing with lots of people?”

He shrugs sheepishly, “Come on, let’s go.” He waits as you stand, picking up your backpack for you. Scott led the way, nervous by how he wrung his hands.

“Has Allison talked about me lately?”

You shove his arm, “Scott, I can’t tell you everything we say during girl talk.”

“Girl talk?” Scott says in a panic, “I didn’t know about girl talk.”

“Yes, it’s where we drop all our juiciest secrets,” you snicker, “Including our thoughts on certain cute boys.” Scott points at himself, eyebrows raised, making you laugh. “Yes, Allison has been saying good things about you.”

Stiles matches your stride, “What about me?”

You look at him with a wide smile before leaning into Scott with another laugh.

“What? I’m a cute boy,” Stiles says, flabbergasted. “Aren’t I?”

They walk into the lunchroom that was still full of students. You spot Allison and Lydia sitting at the popular lacrosse table. Stiles, your backpack still on his shoulder, nudges you to one of the front tables.

Sitting down, Scott kept peering over at the back of Allison’s head. “See it’s not so bad in here, (Y/N).”

The patter of your heart would say differently, but you sit next to Stiles, nonetheless, pulling out your book report.

“I did mean to come talk to you guys about something that happened yesterday.” The boys lean in, eager for any strange story. “Derek Hale came to talk to me.”

Stiles slips out of his chair and crashes to the ground; Scott was stunned, “Derek Hale? Where?”

“On my way to my last class yesterday. He was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.”

Stiles crawls back onto his chair, winded, “He was inside the school? What did he want?”

You shrug, twiddling your pencil, “He wanted me to convince Scott that he was a friend. He said he was innocent, whatever that means.”

The boys share a look. You start outlining your report, “And I don’t know why but I think I believe him.”

“No, (Y/N), listen…” Stiles pulls on your shoulder so you would face him. “You cannot trust that guy. Whatever you do, do not be alone with him again, got it?”

“I don’t get it, why?”

Stiles licks his lips, urgent in the way he looks at you, “You need to trust me on this. If he tries to talk to you again, call me.”

“I would if I had your number,” you laugh. The boys pull out their phones immediately to exchange numbers. You snort at their seriousness, “If you wanted my number that bad you could’ve just asked instead of coming up with this elaborate Derek Hale story.”

“We’re not making it up,” Scott says, “That guy is dangerous.”

~~~

At the end of the week you were busy with your shift at the hospital. You had just finished checking on Jackson Whittemore who had a dislocated shoulder, and you were logging notes into the computer at the nurses station.

You were just updating a patient file when a hand slams onto the counter. You jump, clutching your chest.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles!”

Stiles was shocked at seeing you there, “Do you work here?”

“Yes, and for the love of god please announce your presence like every other normal human being and stop scaring the ever living daylights out of me!” It was a good thing they were in a hospital because your heart was about to give out.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says with wide eyes. He rubs at his face, hiding a smile, “This is how you know Scott’s mom so well.”

“Yeah, add it to my case file,” you wave a hand, fixing your scrub top, “Why are you here?”

His eyes linger at something on your chest, making him stutter, “Um… Scott and I were uh… coming to check up on Jackson.”

“That’s right, you’re all on the lacrosse team. I heard it was Scott that knocked Jackson’s shoulder out of place.”

“That would be correct,” Stiles laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “Is he alright?”

You smirk, nodding towards the end of the hallway, “See for yourself.”

Lydia had come to pick Jackson up, and the pair of them were currently making out in the middle of the hall. You turn away, slightly nauseous, but Stiles keeps observing like he’s never seen a kiss before.

“She’s never been subtle,” you grimace.

His mind seemingly elsewhere, Stiles fumbles for something to occupy himself with as he waits. He picks up a pamphlet on the menstrual cycle.

“Where is Scott?”

Stiles was stuck on a diagram of the uterus, “Hm?”

“Scott,” you say again, staring at the pamphlet cover, “I thought you said you were both looking for Jackson.”

“He went to find his mom first.”

You squint your eyes, “Melissa’s shift ended two hours ago.”

“Could you explain to me the function of the fallopian tubes?”

You snatch the pamphlet away from him, “What are you two hiding?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles says nervously, “Don’t you have other patients to see or something?”

“First Derek Hale is telling me that Scott is keeping a secret and then you’re here covering for Scott while he snoops…”

“Who said anything about snooping?”

You stand from your chair, leaning towards the counter and Stiles, “Listen, I’m glad we’re finally friends. I like you guys. But I won’t be lied to forever. I deserve better than that.”

Stiles feels his chest collapse a little, sinking in on himself. “I could say the same thing about you. You’re always keeping things to yourself and giving vague answers to my questions. What do you have to hide, hm?”

A pang of hurt hit your chest, “Stiles, I’ve never lied to you about anything. If I don’t want to answer a question outright because it’s too personal, I tell you so. I’ve never hid something from you deliberately by lying to you.”

Stiles bit his tongue, folding his arms defensively.

You let the hurt show on your face, “I think you and Scott have been lying to me for a long time. About the party that Scott ran out on. About why you checked up on Allison last week. About your trust issues with Derek Hale. About what you and Scott are doing in the hospital right now…”

The will to argue was gone in Stiles, he just looks defeated as he watches the hurt fill your face. “It’s been for your own protection.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you whisper angrily.

Scott suddenly appears by the counter, out of breath. “Hey…” he saw your face, “Oh, hey what’s up?”

“Find what you were looking for?” you ask sourly before returning to your keyboard.

Scott shares a look with Stiles before muttering, “Yeah, uh… Jackson’s alright.”

“He left a few minutes ago.”

Stiles turns around to see that Lydia and Jackson really had left. He tugs on Scott’s arm and gave an imploring look towards you.

“I promise we’ll explain everything eventually.”

You keep looking at your computer screen, ignoring the words. Stiles flickers his eyes to what he noticed on your chest, just along the edge of your scrubs. Scott knits his brow as he listens to what was unmistakably the uneven pounding of your rising heart rate.

Stiles led the way to the elevators, cursing himself and smashing the downward button.

“What was that about?” Scott whispers.

“(Y/N)’s mad at me,” he rubs at his eyes harshly, “Mad at us. She knows we’re hiding stuff from her.”

“For her own good.”

“Yeah, but she sees it as us lying to her. I don’t blame her for being upset. We’ve been pretty crappy friends keeping her at arm’s length.”

Scott frowns, walking into the elevator, “You forget that keeping her in the dark keeps her safe.”

“Well, not anymore with Derek roping her into it.” He leans against the wall, holding tight to the railing. “Did you notice the scar on her chest?”

“No,” Scott says, “But I did notice her heartbeat. It was all over the place. She must’ve been really upset.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, “Did you find anything in the morgue?”

~~~

The next evening you drove with your mother back to the hospital. You were still aching with the argument you had with Stiles. You knew something was going on between him and Scott, but you still didn’t know what.

Your mother sensed your mood and said in a cheery voice, “We made an arrest today about that woods murder.”

“Did you?” you say in a quiet tone.

“Yeah, Derek Hale. He’s been back in town for a couple weeks. I guess there was evidence on his burnt property.”

You close your eyes, thinking back to the warning about Hale. “Good thing you got him.”

“And then I got a strange call on dispatch today from the Sheriff’s son.”

“Stiles?” you say.

She hums, “He’s one strange kid.”

“Does he call dispatch often?”

“He’s not allowed to anymore, but he did call today about a dog sighting.”

You shake your head, “You’re right, he can be real strange.”

“Are you sure you can’t make the big game tonight?” your mother asks. “Everyone is going, even the Sheriff.”

“I can’t. I’m helping on Melissa’s floor since she took it off to see the game.”

“That’s right,” she replies, “Shame. I’m sure your friends would’ve liked to see you in the stands.”

You turn in your seat, staring your mother down, “I thought you’d object to me watching a heart racing game surrounded by loud, rowdy people, standing in the frigid cold air.”

She shrugs, “You’ve been proving yourself capable of handling your heart rate, even when it’s the spur of the moment.”

A sudden warmth creeps up your chest. Your mother was starting to trust you despite the illnesses. It was just enough of a mood shift to prompt you to text Scott and Stiles good luck at the game.

The shift was long and grueling; you were exhausted by the end of it. Another medical assistant drove you home late, no doubt long after the lacrosse game was over. You made a mental note to commend Melissa for handling such a difficult floor of the hospital.

Your mom had been called away because of a case update and your father was on an overnight shift at the firehouse again. You were quick to shower the nights worth of patient grime off your body and throw your scrubs right into the washer.

You were just applying lotion in your pajamas when something hit the glass of your window. Startled, you stood from your bed and waited for it to happen again.

A small pebble flew through the air and pings against your window.

Peering through the glass, you saw a disheveled, sweatshirt-wearing Stiles holding a handful of your garden rocks. He waves at you shyly as you struggle to slide the window open.

“What are you doing?”

Stiles holds up his hands, “Seeing if you were awake.”

“And you couldn’t think to text?” you say incredulously, “Put those rocks back.”

He threw his handful of rocks on your mothers tulips, “My phone died like an hour ago.”

You stood there, leaning on your windowsill, regarding him with a soft expression. He looks tired and scared, eyes looking up and imploring as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Then what’s up?” you ask.

He swallows hard, the cold air making his breath come out in icy clouds. “I wanted to talk… about what you said yesterday.”

“How did you know where I live? You dropped me off at the end of the street, remember?”

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles, “And I just watched you walk to this house.” He scratches the back of his head, “Or maybe I looked up your mom on my dad’s computer and found her employee records.”

You nod your head slowly, “That sounds about right.”

“Can I… Can I come up?”

You bite at your lips, hair still wet from the shower. “Sure.”

It was like letting a dog off a leash. Stiles frantically jumps to the garden trellis growing on the front of your house. He struggles past the vines and up the wooden ladder, ignoring your calls of disapproval. He was huffing and puffing by the time he made it to the roof and next to your window.

“Stiles,” you say in your gentle voice, “My parents aren’t home. You could’ve come through the front door.”

His mouth was dry from panting in the cold night air, “Right, but that wouldn’t have been as impressive.”

You watch his fumbling figure fall from the window and onto your carpeted floor, “Yeah, that was real impressive, Stilinski.”

There was only a side table lamp on, lighting the bedroom in a soft peachy glow. You went to sit cross-legged on your bed, patting the covers in front of you for Stiles to sit.

He fixes his shirt, taking your offer before looking you in the eye. “(Y/N), I wanted to say that I was sorry.”

You look towards your hands, playing with the edge of your comfy pajama shirt. You could smell the fruity scent of your lotion still on your fingers.

“I didn’t realize our covering up was so obvious to you. We just wanted to protect you, but I guess it does seem like we betrayed your trust.” He keeps his eyes on you, waiting for you to look at him again, “When I got your good luck text I thought maybe there was still a chance you weren’t super angry with me.”

“Just a little,” you say quietly, giving him a soft smile.

“I wanted to tell you some things that we’ve been hiding from you,” he holds his hands up, “As a peace offering.”

You shake your head, “How generous of you.”

“The body that was found in the woods… Scott and I found it. Us visiting the hospital? That was Scott and I trying to find evidence on the partial body. Derek Hale? He had been seen on the property where we found the other half of the body. He was also in the woods with the first half. We were suspicious of him, and he was basically stalking us because of it.”

You listen carefully, your heartbeat was loud in your ears. “And when he came to talk to me?”

“That terrified us. We thought he was a murderer, and he was talking to you… alone.”

“You thought? My mom told me he was arrested today for the murder.”

Stiles rubs at his face with a tired hand, “Not anymore. The coroner’s said the cause of death was from an animal attack. And the victim was Laura Hale – Derek’s sister.”

“Must be nice having your dad be the sheriff,” you smile. “So Derek’s innocent like he told me he was.”

“I still don’t trust him. He’s not telling us everything. And since we’ve gotten him thrown in jail, my guess is he’s not very happy with us.”

You nod, your head clearer than it was at the beginning of the week.

“Is that everything you’ve been hiding?”

Stiles licks his lips, a nervous habit you’re realizing. “Do you remember when you said you don’t lie, you’re just honest about not sharing the whole truth?” At your nod he continues, “There is one more thing, but it’s not fully my thing to tell. We want to tell you, but it’s not exactly safe at the moment.”

You take the cryptic words and stew with them for a while. “Apology accepted.”

He let out a deep breath, “Thank goodness. Scott would have never forgiven me if we lost our one connection to the pretty girls club.”

You punch his shoulder and laugh, “The one thing I’m good for… gossip from the girls.”

Stiles rubs his shoulder, “That’s not why we want you around.” He clears his throat at your sudden undivided attention, “What I mean is… you’ve been a good friend, and we like you.”

“You and Scott,” you smile.

“Yeah, me and Scott.”

“Scott and I,” you correct, brushing the wet hair from your face, “How was the game?”

Stiles sat more relaxed on your bed, “It was great, we won. And there weren’t any injuries like Jackson’s.”

“Good,” you smile, “And Scott had a pretty victorious after party, so I’ve heard.”

“Allison texted you?” Stiles questions.

You shrug, “Of course. She said you were watching like a little pervert.”

Stiles chokes on his gasp, “I am not…”

“You were watching Lydia and Jackson too. There’s a trend I’m noticing,” you tease.

He shoves your crossed knee, relishing in your laugh, “Very funny.” He eyes the neckline of your pajama top, searching for the edge of the scar he noticed yesterday. “Can I ask you my one personal question of the day?”

“Fine,” you sigh, “Ask away.”

“Where did you get that scar?” he nods towards your chest.

You immediately clam up, covering the spot protectively. “I got it over the summer.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows, egging you on, “How?”

“I had a surgery.” You watch the concern begin to etch into Stiles’ face. “I don’t like talking about it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, blinking rapidly as he tries to compute the information, “But you’re okay now. The surgery helped you be… healthy?”

“For the most part,” you say quietly, “The surgery did help me be healthier.” You could already see the cogs turning in his mind. He was going to head home and research what surgeries would leave scars like that on the side of the chest.

His eyes wander your room for a minute before landing on your nightstand. There were three different sized prescription pill bottles resting there. He returns his gaze to you, but didn’t ask further questions, “So I was thinking… how about I give you rides to school from now on.”

You let out an anxious smile, grateful he didn’t press you about your health problems. “Honestly, that would be great.”

“Good,” he seems pleased with himself, “And in return for gas money, you come to our lacrosse games.”

You outstretch a hand, “Deal.”

Stiles takes your hand to shake and instantly blurts, “You smell really good.”

You laugh, “I did just shower.”

He awkwardly lets go of your hand, standing from the bed, “No, you always smell good.”

“Thanks Stilinski.”

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #okay j hannah #okayjhannah #fandomfantasia

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lxgentlefolkcomic · 8 months ago

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First page || Previous page || Next page

Start reading Episode 1

Dialogue transcripts:

Panels 1-2

(n/a)

Panel 3

Jonathan: Mina!

Panel 4

Godfrey: Oh, you’re awake! Good show!

Jonathan (offscreen): *cough cough* Where is Mina?

Panel 5

Jack: Easy, Harker. Don’t fret. Mina made it to the lifeboat, along with Art and Mrs. Norton.

Jonathan: Oh… yes, that’s right… Thank heavens.

Panel 6

Jonathan: Then…where are we?

Panel 7

Godfrey: We’ve settled on “not underwater”.

Voice (offscreen): There you would be incorrect, gentlemen.

#lxgf #lxgf episode 2 #story updates #lxgf jonathan harker #lxgf jack seward #lxgf godfrey norton

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6 K Warnings: none. Prompt: Classes have started, how will the new relationship fare with the upcoming normalcy? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Not proofread

Chapter 65: Spell Binder

Thursday 13th, 1977

“Please take your seats,” Flitwick said as more and more students started to fill in the room. This time around you sat in your usual place next to Remus. Once most students had taken their spots, he climbed up his small podium and smiled. “Now, we had quite an issue last class, and I completely forgot about your essays. Please leave them on my desk by the end of the class…”

There was a choir of groans, you turned to Lily with a smile, as you showed her that this time around you had finished the essay and she rolled her eyes as she shook her head and smiled, mouthing something like “cheat” as she looked at you.

You gave her a pout and mouthed “I saved you ass, you should be thanking me,” back at her. She raised her eyebrows in amusment and you just smiled, covering your face and coughing to mask your barely contained laughter.

“What’s that about?” Remus asked as he leaned closer to you and offered you some water from a metal bottle.

“Lily hadn’t done her homework, last class,” you explained. “We saved her.” Remus smiled at your words, leaning a little closer to you as he pulled your inkpot to the centre of the table since he’d forgotten his own.

“Professor, I’m afraid I cannot hand in my essay,” said Tom, who was sitting just behind you and Remus.

“Did you forget it?”

“No sir, I made it. But the toads ate it as we were leaving the classroom.”

“The… Toads ate it?” the professor asked unsure.

You bit the side of your cheek to avoid laughing and felt Remus nudge you with his elbow and give you a warning look. If you giggled, Flitwick wouldn’t buy it.

“Mine too,” said Sirius as he sent a quick wink at Tom and pulled out a completely torn piece of paper from under the table. “Couldn’t salvage it at all.”

“How the fuck…” you mouthed as you looked at his piece of paper.

“The Toads?” asked Flitwick again.

“Perhaps it’s the type of Toads?” said Marlene. “They did look quite hungry…”

That was perhaps the one thing that made actual sense, you thought. If the water spirit had been hungry, and although you’d taken precautions to trap the toads with some food, it made sense that they’d be hungry after being there for so long.

“Yeah, mine too!” Added someone else from the back.

“And mine.”

Flitwick shook his head “All right, all right. Whoever lost their homework due to the toad incident, may bring it to my office tomorrow, you will be graded as if you had handed it in on time. Those who hand it in today will get a bonus point on your overall grade. Sounds fair?”

“Yes, thank you, professor!” Said Tom with a smile.

“Thank you,” added Sirius, placing the torn piece of paper back in his bag.

“Now that that’s out of the picture, let’s talk a little bit of charms. Is there a charm or potion that could have caused the toad incident?”

“Well, there’s the summoning charm?” Said Michael, the same Hufflepuff whose Fireworm had exploded the day before.

“Could a summoning charm summon that many toads?” Asked Flitwick.

“Perhaps if they had been clustered together before? With a binding spell of some sort?” proposed Imogen.

“That could have been it, if the toads had appeared only in one castle and not all over the castle. Unless there was a student summoning toads in each room,” James reasoned.

“Duplication charm?”

“Or maybe a time-turner?” Said Imogen.

“Those are way too hard to get,” said Sirius as he shook his head. You threw him a look and he shrugged. Something told you he’d tried.

“What about a modified Slug-vomiting charm?” Asked Terix –short for Asterix– another Hufflepuff.

“Did you see anyone vomiting the toads?” asked Michael who was sitting beside him.

“Well no– but…”

“I know! Frog-spawn soap!” said Mary. “Has to be that, right?”

“But that only works with water,” argued Michael.

“Well, there was a lot of water,” you said, almost as a throwaway comment.

“Flooding spell plus frogspawn soap?” Said Remus. “Makes sense.”

“What about a gemino curse?” asked a Hufflepuff boy whom you’d never heard talk from the back. He was shy and often had either a book or a notebook in his hand.

“The toads were different,” said Dora (also a Hufflepuff) kindly. “Had it been gemino they would have all been the same.”

“How do you know they were different?” asked Michael, “They all looked the same to me.”

“They were definitely different,” insisted the girl. She had bright green hair, which is why some people accused her of being part mermaid. “Some had spots and others didn’t. And they had different hues of green too.”

“Different hues of green?” Terix inquiered.

“Plenty of them,” she answered with a nod.

“Mr. Lupin, what do you think could have happened?” Flitwick asked, cutting the previous line of reasoning.

“The soap and flooding spell sounds possible,” he said with a shrug.

“Whatever it might have been,” said James a little loud. “Thank Merlin it happened, we had a fantastic day!”

“Except for the Fireworms,” said Imogen.

“Except for the tragic loss of the fireworms,” agreed Prongs solemnly.

“So that means all we need to do to find the culprit is figure out who bought ridiculous amounts of Frog Spawn Soap at Zonko’s?” you asked with a shrug. It was delightful to have the chance to drive the investigation away from you and the boys and towards a dead end.

“They could have bought only one and used gemino on it?” said Michael.

“Would that make everyone who’s bought Frog Spawn Soap a suspect?” Asked Sirius with a devious smile.

“Not everyone can use gemino, it’s a 7th-year spell!” said Terix.

“But I’ve seen 4th years do it,” said Remus casually. “Vix knows too,” he added as he pointed at you.

“Kind of,” you lied. “Still trying to get the hand of it,” you corrected.

Flitwick smiled at the fact that you’d attempted to learn such a complicated spell. The kind of smile that was both proud but also not too surprised about it, as that was something normal to expect from you –which perhaps it was, at least a little bit.

“So it narrows it down to everyone who’s able to use gemino and bought Frog Spawn Soap,” said Imgoen, trying to both recap and divert the attention away from you. She had no evidence that you’d been involved in the prank, but she didn’t have any doubts either, it was also the kind of thing you would have done –provided that the boys got you wrapped up in it, and you had been with them most of the Christmas Break.

“What if they bought the Frog Spawn Soap elsewhere? We were all on the break, could have bought it at any prank shop of the country –heck– they could have even bought it abroad.”

“Yeah, there is no way we track down the culprit if they got it abroad, right professor?” asked Mary.

“Unfortunately, if it was frog spawn soap there is no way for us to discover who caused the infestation –If it really was a student that made it happen…”

“What do you mean by that? You think it might have been Peeves?” asked Dora Johnson.

“Although that was a theory initially, we’ve talked to Peeves, he maintains it wasn’t him.”

“And you believe a poltergeist?” asked Tim sceptically.

“Peeves often takes pride of his pranks, he wouldn’t hide it was him with this one, since it was quite successful,” replied James politely, but also matter-of-factly. Peeves had never taken the credit for any of the marauder’s pranks.

“Indeed he is, thank you Mr. Potter,” nodded Flitwick. “But that wasn’t exactly what I meant with it having been caused by a student.

“Then what did you?”

“I guess this would be more of a History of Magic class, or History of Hogwarts…” He looked up and then around. “Does anybody have that book around at the moment?”

“Hogwarts: A History?” asked Beth.

“Precisely.”

“I think I’ve got it,” Lily said as she dug her hand into her bag and pulled out a considerably thick book. “I’m working on an essay for my optative,” she explained when the entire class looked at her like she was a unicorn. Well, everyone except for James, who was looking at her in his usual manner –heart eyes, almost a little dumbed out, totally oxytocin-filled.

“No need to explain yourself, Miss Evans,” said Flitwik with a simple nod. She gave him a lopsided smile in return. “Please open page 157.”

Lily frowned as she looked at him but did as told. Marlene sitting beside her, leaned over Lily’s shoulder too. “Hogwart’s self Mantainance?”

“Indeed, indeed,” the teacher replied with a nod. “Please the first paragraph Miss. Mackinnon.”

“Hogwarts is a complex magical structure, and even if Salazar, Godric, Helga and Rowena planned for the house elves to do most of the cleaning, there were still other things that had to be taken care of. After a lot of talking, the four founders ended up designing an incredibly complex system for the self-maintenance for the school. About 4,000 spells were cast all over, some of them imbued with ancient spells we don’t use anymore…”

“Yes! Yes! That’s right,” Flitwick said as Marlene’s reading slowly died down. “And you see, many of said spells are a complete mystery. Some have recorded them, some are recurring, but others are a total enigma, and happen every hundreds of years. When I was a student, for an entire week the school smelled funny. Some of the portraits explained every two or three hundred years the students complained about that funny smell, like rotten eggs. Upon some research, we discovered it was a rather specific charm to keep undesirable magical creatures at bay.

“And while the toads have never been recorded, who’s to say it wasn’t some kind of charm? Perhaps a pest control of some kind…”

“So you think It’s some kind of ancient continence charm?” Asked Tom with a sly smile.

“Well, it’s a theory, indeed.”

“If you think about it, it makes sense,” said Dora. “Toads are always eating insects and stuff… which makes them great for controlling small pests. And the toads did look quite hungry.”

“Precisely Miss. Johnson,” nodded Fltwick as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Even when there’s been no record of it happening before?” asked Terix.

“Well…” said Marlene as she flipped through the pages. “There weren’t any records of the total blackout of the 50s, they only figured out it had been part of the maintenance because somebody found the spell in a book years later.”

“Does that mean many other weird things like the toads could happen?” Asked Michael.

“They are quite rare…” you said, as you peeked over to Lily’s table. Remus gave you a look and pulled you back towards your spot when he thought you were going to fall. “Thanks,” you muttered as you turned to him and softly pinched the side of his arm. It was a way to say ‘love you’ when you couldn’t quite squeeze his hand or press a kiss to his cheek.

“Indeed, you should consider yourselves lucky that you witnessed such a historic event,” the professor said solemnly.

“Right we are!” said James. “History! We witnessed History!”

It’s not that James was saying it in an ironic manner or anything similar, if anything he seemed just as excited as Flitwick. But it was because you knew his roll in the prank that his words seemed so hilarious. Rather than laughing, though, you coughed a couple of times and then drank a little bit of water to calm your nerves.

“Way to be discrete about it Vixen,” said Prongs as the three of you walked towards your next class.

“You weren’t much better,” you said with a laugh. “We should be thankful, we’ve witnessed history,” you added in a high-pitched tone while waving your hands in the air dramatically.

“I don’t sound like that at all!” he complained.

“You kind of do!” you teased, and he threw a few peanuts he was munching on towards you.

“James, don’t be so wasteful, please,” Lily chided, she had just caught up with all of you.

“Right, sorry, Luv,” he said as he turned to look at her, and took from her shoulders to carry it himself.

You and Remus exchanged a diverted glance, and then Lily turned to you with a small smirk and a wink. You raised your eyebrows as you looked at her –she had a very smug expression going on at this point and you lagged behind just enough to blow her a kiss without James noticing (then he would have known she didn’t really mean it about being wasteful, but rather was defending you).

“Oi! Hands off my peanuts, Padfoot!” he said as he snapped the other boy’s hand.

“Our Peanuts, Prongs,” said Sirius with a casual shrug as he plopped one of them into his mouth. “This is a communist society.”

“Communist my ass, I had to bribe the house elves for this ones!”

“You what?” Lily asked as he turned to him in shock.

“By ‘bribe’, he just means he goes down to the kitchen and asks them nicely,” Peter explained.

“Well yeah, but they didn’t want to give them up because they needed them for some the Chicken Stay.”

“Satay,” corrected Sirius.

“What?”

“It’s Chicken Satay, not Chicken Stay.”

“Wait, really?” James asked as he turned to him, clearly confused. Sirius took that as an opportunity to take a few more peanuts. He moved the handful behind your back, which Remus took after a graceful movement that you hadn’t had the luck to witness.

“Yeah,” you said, to keep his eyes away from the bag. Lily rolled her eyes at the entire interaction, but she had a happy smile on her face as she watched how well the three of you worked together, like the finest wristwatch, each gear working in tandem to tell the right time. “You didn’t know?”

“I thought it was stay!”

“Either way, how are they gonna make the food withotut the peanuts?”

“They were just for the sauce, I told them they could try and make a different sauce, to get creative.”

“Merlin, we’ll have mystery sauce,” said Lily.

“Just avoid the sauce,” James said with a shrug. “Besides, the peanuts are a great surce of protein, perfect for all of us Quidditch players prepparing for the last match.”

“And yet you’re gatekeeping them,” you said.

“Ugh, just have some,” he siad as he handed the bag over to you and you placed a couple in your hand, Remus was already munching on some of the ones Sirius had sneaked for him and you took one and plopped it in your mouth before feeding Sirius a couple of them.

“Did you guys finish your homework?” asked Mary, she had ran inbetween James and Lily and stood right infront of everyone with a preoccupied face.

“What homework?” asked Sirius with a frown.

“Potions? Essay about common household ones? it was for the break.”

You turned to Remus with a worried expression, but he gave you a calm nod in return. “We’ve got it, don’t worry, Luv.”

You were tempted to lean in and press a kiss on his beautiful lips, but there were too many people in the corridors not to mention the fact that neither Mary nor Peter knew about the new relationship status, and although the three of you agreed you’d slowly tell your friends –and you were meant to tell the girls while they the boys, neither of you had set a due date, rather you decided to do it when you thought was best.

“Shit,” Sirius said as he remembered both that he hadn’t done it, and that Severus was now his partner in potions. “You think he did it?”

“Severus?” you asked. “There is no way in hell he puts your name on it. Especially not after the new nickname you gave him.”

“He does not know I was the one that started it…”

“He blames us for everything bad that happens to him anyway,” James said as Sirius turned to him.

“Well, at least I won’t be the only one that didn’t do it.”

“Who are you looking at, I did it!”

“You what?” Sirius asked, dumbfounded.

“Actually, the only reason I remembered to do it is thanks to Vix”

“Whatever do I have to do with your essay? Didn’t even remember to do mine.”

“You recall that day you were playing Romeo and Juliet on the balcony and then fell?”

“You fell off James’ balcony?!” intervened Lily, pitch slightly higher, concerned evident in her tone.

“James made it sound a lot worse than it actually was,” you reassured. “2 and a half metres at most… Maybe three.”

Lily looked at you just as horrified as she had been looking at you before. “Some bushed caught her, she was totally fine,” James added. “Either way, a fall is a fall, so we went digging in my father’s cabinet for some anti-swelling potion.”

“By Merlin, what we found there.”

“What you found there? What did you find there?” asked Sirius, turning towards you.

You and James exchanged a look and then laughed. “Bit of everything.”

“Anyway, we left the one we used outside and when Dad asked me to put it back, I remembered and wrote a quick one.”

“And what potion did you talk about?”

“Sleekeazy, I asked Dad if he still had his notes from when he created it, we’re definitely going to get an ‘O’.”

Lily gave him a thumbs-up and a small smile. James had been working a lot harder on potions since he was with her and they’d turned into an incredibly good team. The fact that they’d started dating just made it better, since Lily was less impassive and a lot more tolerant towards him now.

“So I’m the only one without an essay?”

“Nah, Mars and I did nothing either,” Mary said with a pout. “Is anyone willing to lend me their essay?”

“I have some notes on Draught of Living Death,” you said as you pulled out your notebook, but Sirius was quicker to snatch it away from your hands than Mary.

“Sorry, darling,” he told her with a smile. “I’ve got boyfriend privileges.”

Her pout just grew and Lily took out her notebook, “You can take my notes on Veritasserum,” she said with a small shrug, Mary’ pout instantly turned into a smile. “I’ve got the best friends in the entire world,” she said as she pulled both you and Lily towards her and placed her arms arounf your shoulders. “And not just because you help me when I forget my homework, you know that, right?”

Lily laughed and you smiled, leaning your head against her shoulder and feeling some of her thick curls brush against your cheek, content to have such delightful friends, and thinking how exactly you would tell them about you and the boys and the relationship you’d ended up in.

Slughorn was already inside the classroom by the time you reached the door, he was leaning in his desk with a small smile and and that air of grandiosity he always carried himself with. New year, new potion, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t going to be an easy one at all. He looked all too thrilled about giving the class for it to be an easy one, but you didn’t hate the idea of a complicated potion. In fact, you yearned for the normalcy of your problems being related to school and not the end of the world and a fascist takeover of power.

A few ingredients were already settled on the tables as everyone walked over to their place. Some looked at the assortment with curiosity, while others just pushed them towards the end of the table almost carelessly, to make some space for their parchments and notebooks. Remus eyed you once he spotted the large jar filled with rose petals, wondering if you liked recieving flowers, he’d never asked.

He didn’t much like giving flowers, there was something inherently sad about giving someone something on the verge of dying that displeased him. Even when charmed, and frozen in time, cut flowers were still cut, and once cut, they couldn’t survive, not in a way that mattered at least. Magic could make them last forever, but they still would be forever at the edge of dying. He much preferred giving living flowers. Hope always had flower pots and her orchard had always been filled with flowers –taken care of by spells from Lyall since she wasn’t all that great at keeping them alive either. But he had always seen them in bloom, from rose bushes to hydrangeas and even lily bells.

He used to love, before going to Hogwarts and while he was educated by his parents, to see them sprout as the snow started to dissolve into water poodles, the almost magic-like qualities of the change of seasons and the resilient little buds that refused to give up on life even in such withering conditions. He used to think he was like those little plants, no matter how cold winter got, he kept fighting his way up the thick snow, perhaps eventually it would melt.

And when he turned back to look at you, writing something in your notebook and then turning to him after noticing he was staring, smiling and sending him a small wink, he realised that the snow had indeed melted. You and Sirius were bright enough to melt it, and he would push through, and give his best, as long as he could bathe on your shine once he beat whatever layer of snow the world might bring him.

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” you asked as you leaned closer to him.

“Just thinking of my partners,” he said as he turned to you with a sneaky smile.

“So you are?” you smiled just as teasingly, perhaps a good smile wouldn’t let him see how embarrassed you actually were. “Care to share with the class?”

“It wouldn’t be proper,” he lied.

“All the more fun then, isn’t it?”

“How can such a dirty mind fit in such a small head?” he teased as he placed his hand on your head and shook you lightly, you laughed merrily at his action, and leaned back towards him. Sirius was way too focused on creating an essay to notice how adorable his lovers looked, which perhaps wasn’t all that bad, since he would have wanted to abandon what he was doing entirely just to join you.

More and more students walked inside the classroom when the bell rang and Slughorn stood from his seat, waving his hand at the door and having it close just seconds later, which had some students jump startled in their seats.

“From the ingredients in the table, can anybody guess what potion we’re making today?”

“Calming draught?” asked a student.

“That does not have Niffler’s Fancy,” said Severus with an eye roll. “Is it a beautification potion?” he asked.

“Why, need one of those?” Sirius mumbled and got a death stare from the greasy-haired boy.

Remus sighed, he knew teasing Severus was a bad idea, especially after what he’d seen in the bathroom. The small snicker you were trying to hold almost instantly made him forget. It had been quite a hilarious tease anyway.

You looked at the assortment of ingredients: rose petals, niffler’s fancy, moonstone, pearl dust, mint, aswinder eggs (perhaps the most telling of them all), vanilla pod, and a few other things where the label was too small or non-existent.

“Is it Healing Tonic?” asked James, who remembered seeing some of those ingredients in his father’s medical journal.

The ingredients themselves could have prepared anything, even the ashwinder eggs, but there had been something unusual at the beginning of the class that gave you an idea of what the potion could have been “It’s amortentia, isn’t it, Professor? That’s why you shut the door,” you said.

Slughorn’s smile widened as he looked at you. “Brilliantly said, darling,” he said. You’d only ever heard him call Lily with that nickname, until then you had only been “Miss” and your last name. You almost appreciated not being reminded of Silas in that sense. “Indeed, indeed, we’ll be brewing amorentia.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be able to do those only after the N.E.W.T.S?” Said Mulciber from the back.

“That’s right, Mr. Dolohov, in fact only some students in 7th actually get to brew the potion effectively. Regardless, the potion contains a lot of complicated techniques that you’ll find useful on other brews, and since this class already has a handful of talented potioneers–” he looked around, his eyes stopping in your table, Lily, Severus and Evan’s– “I decided we would make the first attempt on this class. If a team does succeed, you’ll be getting a price in return.”

“A price?” Asked Sirius curiously.

“A potion from my personal stash, whichever you want, no questions asked,” Slughorn added as he pulled a small wooden box and opened it, inside of it there were about 50 different vials, small and with various shapes and sizes, from round and transparent, swirled and completely black. All of them had a small label hanging from them with neatly written cursive, Slughorn’s handwriting.

“Any of them? Whichever we choose?” Asked Evan apprehensively.

“Yes, indeed,” Slughorn nodded, and with a wave of his hand, the box closed itself shut. He pulled out his wand and a set of books rose from the back bookshelf and slowly flew towards everyone’s desk. “Page 567, Mr. Black, please.”

Sirius cleared his throat and pulled the book towards him as he quickly flipped through the pages, “Amortentia, also known as The Most Powerful Love Potion in existence, is also an extremely dangerous brew that can have catastrophic results if handled incorrectly,” he started. Slughorn seemed quite pleased, and after Sirius turned his eyes up to make sure he was expected to continue, he did. “Do not be fooled by its name, although the effects of Amortentia are extremely powerful, it is impossible for it, or any other potion to manufacture true love. Its true effect is akin to obsessive infatuation.”

“Indeed, but as you know, even if it is not true love, excessive infatuation can be extremely dangerous. Any real-life examples?” Lily raised her hand. “Miss Evans, please.”

“When Henry VIII of England was king, he fell madly in love with Anne Boleyn. Plenty of scholars said they often saw her pouring drinks for him at parties and gatherings, and that little after he was head over hills for her. She managed to secure her marriage with Henry and England went through the break with the church. Anne never quite managed to give him a male heir and she fell out of favour.

“I read somewhere that before that happened, some of his advisors realised she was pouring stuff in his drinks and she was forbidden from serving the king, And only after that she fell out of his favour, then the Witchcraft rumours started. I checked on some old Hogwarts records because I was curious. Anne studied here before joining the king’s court, back in the fifteen hundreds, she was a Slytherin and a promising potioneer, although she was never quite good at charms. This was back when Hogwarts didn’t have such a complete curriculum, and students were only expected to master one or two crafts instead of all of them.” You’d swear there was a shine in Slughorn’s eyes as he heard Lily speak. “The records of her being a witch were erased from most of their history, but the rumours persisted, and perhaps they would have stayed as that if Hogwarts didn’t have such a complete library.”

“An excellent example, Miss Evans. It illustrates the dangers of obsessive infatuation.”

“What? Destroying a marriage?” Someone joked from behind.

“Being murdered for it,” retorted Mulciber.

“She was only murdered because she got discovered.”

“That’s such a Slytherin comment,” Mary said to Marlene under her breath, unfortunately, the Slytherin who spoke first heard it.

“What did you say?” he asked as he stood up, his chair grinding against the stone loudly.

“Enough!” Slughorn said. “20 points from Slytherin thanks to Mr. Parkinson,” he added sternly. “10 for Gryffindor, thanks to Miss Evans’s brilliant remark.”

There was a choir of cheers and moans, and Mulciber kicked Preston Parkinson under the table, who complained about it with a moan and a look of hate. Lily stood straighter, proud of having gotten some more points for her house, and James was staring at her as if she were the brightest star in the galaxy.

“Now, allow us to continue. Can somebody tell me what the most important ingredient in amorentia is?”

“Pearl dust?” someone asked, Slughorn shook his head.

“Ashwinder eggs?” Marlene asked, generally the most important ingredient of the potion was the first listed, so she went for it.

“It’s extremely important, but no.” He looked at you. “Any ideas?”

You looked at him, going through the list of instructions one by one, and then you remembered. “The item belonging to whom which the drinker will fall in love with,” you said. “Without it, it’s a completely useless brew that smells nice, with it, it becomes a weapon. Like Polyjuice.”

“Yes! And…?” He pressed.

You bit your lip, you weren’t sure what else there was, you turned to Remus for help, and nodded calmly before looking at Slughorn, “It’s the intention, isn’t it, Professor?”

Slughorn seemed quite pleased with the answer. “Indeed, the intention and the item are the most important. You may brew a perfect potion, but without the intention, even the best brew will be nothing more than an ingredient soup.”

“What does that mean?” Asked Archie McMillan, a Slytherin that wasn’t all that disagreeable.

“Some potions require you to have clear intentions as you brew them. Much like the unforgivable curses, if you do not mean to use them accordingly, then they won’t work.”

“But…” started Beth. “Wouldn’t us wanting to make such a potion put us in a bad position?”

“Brilliant question, Miss Harmon. But want and intent are not the same. You may not want to harm someone and still intend to do it. For example, when you’re in an argument, you may purposefully say things to hurt the other person. Intentions are short-lived, temporary, wants, on the contrary, may last much longer.”

“But does that mean we must have the intention to use it while we brew it?” Asked Mary.

“Indeed,” he said as he nodded. “You must have the intention to use it, even if you do not want to do it.”

“That sounds complicated,” Marlene said as she shook her head.

“And that’s why it is one of the trickiest potions to brew,” Slughorn confirmed. “Advance potions tend to have this quality, intentions matter, and that is also why they are so complicated to craft. A good flask of amorentia, one that will last for years, can cost up to a thousand galleons, and can only be found on the black market. The longer it lasts, the more expensive it will be. Does anyone know how to guess the potency of amorentia?”

“The stronger it’s smell, the more potent,” retorted Severus.

“Indeed, Mr. Snape, indeed.”

“So the potion that’ll get the price will be the one that smells the strongest?” Asked Alison Prewett.

“Precisely,” he said solemnly.

“But how do we intend without wanting?” Asked Tom.

“Quite simple,” said Slughorn. “Think of the person you’d like to use the potion on, while you brew, cut and stir.”

“But what if I don’t want to use it on anyone?” Asked Peter.

“Think about it,” Slughorn said. “Is there really no person you’d like to use a potion like that on? Nobody you fancy but know is completely out of your reach? Perhaps a celebrity? A book character? A Quidditch player?”

Peter adverted his gaze and looked at the table, taking a deep breath which made you look at him with some concern. “You think he’s all right?” you asked as you leaned towards Remus.

“Wormmy?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

You shrugged, “Something in his gaze, I guess… Might be overthinking it.”

Remus leaned his head and turned to Peter, but by then he had already gathered himself up again and was clumsily writing what Slughorn was saying on his parchment. Very characteristic of him, “He looks all right to me.”

“Yeah, I suppose he does,” you said as you looked at him again, Remus words reassuring enough for the thought to slip your mind as Slughorn kept going on about all the ingredients you would need.

“All the ingredients are on the table, you may start. Remeber, maintain your intention, the stronger it is, the better the potion will come out.”

“This would have been a lot easier last semester,” Remus said as you weighed some of the ingredients.

“You think?” you asked as you moved the weights on the scale, making sure it was the right amount.

“I would have had just the right intentions.”

You turned to him with a smile, “Yeah?” you teased. “Would have thought of using it on us?”

He shrugged, “I was always thinking of you, it would have been easy enough to keep the intention.”

“You could still think of us, it’s what I’m planning to do,” you said with a shrug.

“Yeah? You’ll think of me? But you already know you have me.”

You hummed in response. “Still, imagine what a little bit of amortentia could do to calm old Remus,” you added with a smirk.

He gasped, “Calm, old?”

“Well, if the shoe fits–”

“You haven’t seen a thing. We’ve been dating for like, what? A day and a half?” he whispered.

“See? You’re exactly the type that would keep count,” you said, just to tease him, and the brush on his tongue on the inside of his cheek made a small bump as he shook his head.

“You think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s adorable,” you retorted, equally teasing smile. “I think you are adorable.”

“Now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Perhaps If I keep that as my intention then we’ll get the potion to be fantastic,” you retorted.

“You think I’d blush more under amortentia.”

“You don’t? Picture this. Your room, me and Sirius. The boys aren’t around, and there definitely won’t be any James barging in at the wrong time. We’re listening to some nice, soft jazz in the record player, maybe some of the ones I got you on Christmas, maybe some from your collection and–”

“Is everything all right with you two?” Asked Slughorn as he approached.

“Delightful,” you said, turning to him with a smile. Remus could tell you were blushing by the way your smile tightened as you looked up, he leaned his head on his hand looked at you with a very self-assured look, and raised an eyebrow, which you saw out of the corner of your eye. He was teasing you now, in retaliation for your earlier insinuations. “We were just discussing our intentions.”

Slughorn gave you a pleased look, “Such a brilliant team the two of you make,” he said with a nod. “Nothing better than two friends being potion partners,” he added. “Well, perhaps two lovers…”

“Like Effie and Monty, right?”

“Yes, the Potters were some of the few students I’ve had that completed this potion perfectly. They weren’t dating then, I believe they thought of each other. It made it all the more powerful in the end.”

“Well, I certainly know who my partner will be thinking of,” Sirius said maliciously towards Severus, once he overheard the conversation you were having with Slughorn.

“Yeah, well I know exactly who you’ll be thinking of as well,” the other boy retorted viciously. “And it won’t be your stupid little girlfriend, will it?”

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TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon @nagareboshi-chiyo @x4ramyluv @bookishbabyyyy

A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

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demonic0angel · 7 months ago

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DPxDC Next Generation Kids (click for clarity)

Continue reading for notes and introductions :)

1) Jove Bryce Wayne (11) - Steph and Cass’ adopted son. He trains under Cass and Bruce, and is widely admired by the other kids for creating his own fighting style with the dancing skills he gets from practicing with his mom (to his delight). Fun fact, he is albino!

2) Marillyn “Mari” Maddy Grayson-Nightingale (10) - Dick and Dan’s daughter. She was an accidental pregnancy, but both of her dads love her very much. Fun fact, she gained her baba’s personality and is rather rebellious and mischievous, which causes Dick to feel sympathetic for Bruce.

3) Elinor “Ellie” Catherine Nightingale (9) - Jason and Jazz’s eldest daughter. She, along with Mari, train under Dick, Jason, and Jazz in order to protect themselves. Fun fact, she looks and acts just like Jason when he was young.

4) Thomas “Tommy” Bruce Drake (5) - Tim, Dani, and Kon’s oldest son. He is an evil genius who uses his cuteness to take over the world. Fun fact, the entire PhantomBat family have given up on convincing him not to, so now they’re just trying to instill morals into him and stall for time (they still love him tho).

5) Marianne “Ann” Talia Nightingale (5) - Jason and Jazz’s youngest daughter. She is Alfie’s twin and is the fun and sunshine to Ellie’s seriousness and Alfie’s gloominess. Fun fact, she got her blonde hair from Sheila Haywood, but she doesn’t know that.

6) Alfonso “Alfie” B Nightingale (5) - Jason and Jazz’s youngest son. He is Ann’s twin and is rather gloomy and antisocial compared to his sisters. Fun fact, he supposedly looks like Bruce when he was young, so he gets away with a lot when dealing with Alfred.

7) Rain Axel Nightingale (4) - Danny and Valerie’s son. He is Misty’s twin and can be rather mischievous, often causing trouble and chaos for the fun of it. Fun fact, he often teams up with Mari to prank everyone in the most ridiculous ways possible.

8) Misty Lilith Nightingale (4) - Danny and Valerie’s daughter. She is Rain’s twin, and is even more shy than Alfie and can start crying when stressed. Fun fact, although she can be anxious easily, her temper is even worse than her mom’s.

9) Ken-el / Kenneth “Kenny�� Clark Drake (1) - Tim, Dani, and Kon’s youngest son. Since he is the youngest, he is doted on the most. Fun fact, he has already unlocked most of his halfa abilities due to his Kryptonian heritage.

Notes:

+ Jove’s name relates back to Cassandra’s because they are both names of mythological characters. Jove is another name for Jupiter (AKA Zeus).

+ Both of Mari’s names are actually a weird, mashed up version of Madeline and Mary (and also inspired by Mar’i cough).

+ Jason and Jazz’s daughters are named after Elinor and Marianne from Sense and Sensibilities and their middle names are from Jason’s mother figures in life. I imagine that Jazz had a falling out with Jack and Maddie, so she didn’t really care.

+ Alfie’s name is inspired from Alfred and his middle name is only “B” because Tommy was born first and Tim took the “Bruce” middle name.

+ Alfie and Ann, and Misty and Rain are inspired by Misty and Jackson, the canon kid characters of Sam and Danny. Both pairs of twins have an 8 month difference of age.

+ Why so many twins?? I used the twin idea first for Jazz and Jason, but when I thought of Danny and Valerie, I kept switching between ideas, so I eventually settled on twins for them too. Trust, it was a weird coincidence for Danny and Jazz too when they had twins at nearly the same time.

+ Misty and Rain’s middle names come from Tucker and Sam (Axel Foley and the episode “Life Lessons”). Their first names are inspired by Misty Fenton and I just found another name for Rain to match the theme.

+ Tommy and Kenny technically have different dads, (Tommy is Tim and Dani’s, and Kenny is Kon and Dani’s), but it doesn’t really mean anything, since they don’t pay attention to it.

+ The idea of Tommy, who is like Tim’s clone and absolutely evil, was so funny to me. He’s prob my fav child OC. His entire family know about his manipulative tendencies but he loves them so they let it go. (Damian and Dan have already pledged their allegiance to their future overlord.)

+ The short period of time where Jazz, Dani, and Valerie were pregnant at the same time was hell on earth for everyone.

+ Technically, Bruce only has 7 grandchildren (he cries when he thinks about it a little too hard), but bc they’re so close to Rain and Misty, Bruce thinks of them as his grandchildren too, so he always says he has 9. Danny and Val are like ??? But Rain and Misty totally believe that he’s their grandpa (which he is delighted about).

+ Damian is married to Jon and they have no kids, unless you count the farm they inherited and all of the animals that Damian adopted as his fur babies. However, Damian was young when the kids kept coming, so he became the designated babysitter and then the favorite uncle, which all of the other Batboys despise and are jealous of.

+ Marillyn's age, as well as Misty and Rain's existences, might still be changed by me, just bc at times, it doesn't suit my headcanons or just doesn't make sense in the timeline. So those are susceptible to change.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #anger management ship #hardcover ship #bad humor ship #dick x dan #two for one ship #tim x kon x dani #gray ghost #stephcass #phantombat next gen #jason x jazz #dp au

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deliciousangelfestival · 10 months ago

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The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 6

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky doesn’t understand what the heck just happened.

When he carried her into the house, the smell of lemongrass gave him nostalgia.

He gently put your grandma down on her bed. Then he went to the living room. You followed him after putting the blanket on Cassandra.

You found him standing near the air humidifier.

“This smell...” Bucky murmured, taking in the scent.

“Was the smell too strong? It's to calm my grandma's cough,” you explained, watching his reaction.

He shook his head slightly, still looking puzzled. “No, it’s not that. It’s just... familiar.”

You tilted your head, trying to understand. “Seriously, why didn’t you have an episode when you held my grandma?”

Bucky shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “I still don’t understand it.” His eyes wandered to the photos on the wall, lingering on one where a younger you stood next to your grandma. You wore a plaid skirt, and the scarf around Cassandra’s neck seemed oddly familiar.

“Ugh,” he groaned suddenly, clutching his head as a sharp pain struck. He stumbled back, nearly losing his balance.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed, rushing to his side.

He crouched down, falling to his knees as he was overwhelmed by a flashback. The disgusting laugh of the day he was kidnapped echoed in his mind.

“HAHAHAHA! We will be rich,” one of the kidnappers had said. Bucky clenched his teeth, the memory resurfacing with brutal clarity.

He hated this memory. He had tried so hard to lock it away.

“Oh my god, why is there a kid—? Are you okay?” A woman's voice and her silhouette appeared in his mind.

That voice. Her voice sounded familiar.

“Bucky!” You shook his shoulders, desperate to bring him back to the present.

Bucky snapped out of his nightmare, gasping for breath. His eyes were teary and red as he looked at you with a mix of fear and confusion.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice trembling with concern. You gently touched his arm, grounding him.

Bucky got up abruptly. “Sorry, but I have to go.”

“Wait,” you called out, reaching for him.

But he was already moving swiftly, his long strides taking him out the door and into his car. The engine roared to life, and the car sped off down the street.

You stood there, watching the taillights disappear into the night, a mix of worry and frustration knotting in your stomach. You could only hope he drove safely.

While driving, his headache eased after he left your place. But something had triggered his memory. What triggered it?

Was it because of you?

💋💋💋💋💋

He returned to his apartment, his mind racing with questions. That night, he had the same nightmare again. But tonight was different. Alongside the voice of his kidnapper, he could hear another voice.

He woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat.

The next morning, when Javier arrived at his clinic, he saw Bucky in the basement parking lot, just getting out of his car with a pale face.

“Bucky, you look terrible. What happened?” Javier asked, concern etched on his face.

Bucky, leaning heavily against the car, ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I had the nightmare again, but this time there was another voice. It felt...familiar.”

Javier looked at Bucky with surprise. “You got another episode?”

Bucky nodded, his face set with determination. “I want to remember everything.”

Javier was taken aback. As Bucky's psychiatrist from the start, he had always tried to help Bucky forget the traumatic events. This was a significant change.

“Alright, let’s get you relaxed and start the hypnosis session,” Javier said, guiding Bucky into his office.

Bucky lay down on the comfortable recliner, closing his eyes. Javier dimmed the lights, creating a calming atmosphere. He began speaking in a low, soothing voice.

“Bucky, I want you to take a deep breath. Inhale slowly...and exhale. Let all your tension melt away. You are in a safe place. As you listen to my voice, feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into relaxation.”

Bucky's breathing slowed, and his body relaxed. Javier continued, “Now, I want you to imagine a staircase. With each step you take, you’ll go deeper into your memories. Ten steps down, each one taking you closer to the memory you seek. Ten...nine...eight...”

Bucky's mind drifted back. He felt himself being pulled into the past, into a dark and cold place. The air was thick with dampness, and the sound of water dripping echoed around him. He could see nothing but shadows.

Then, suddenly, he saw a door open. Light streamed in, and he ran towards it with every ounce of strength. His heart pounded, his breath ragged, but he didn’t stop. He ran as far as he could from the kidnappers.

Flashback Starts

The sky was already dark, and he was hungry and thirsty.

He ran away from the abandoned factory where the kidnappers were hiding. Bucky was able to escape when one of them didn't check the locked door.

Not wanting to miss the chance, he ran as fast as possible.

After running for a while his legs felt weak, but he kept going. Across a lake, he saw a small house with lights on.

He hoped someone was inside, but his legs had given out. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his eyes growing heavy.

He thought this was his last lifeline until he heard a voice.

“Oh my God. Why is there a kid here? Are you okay?” The woman’s voice echoed in his mind.

In his memory, he barely opened his eyes, but one particular thing that caught his eye was the woman wearing a patterned blue silk scarf. He felt his body being held by someone. The way he was held was different from the person who kidnapped him.

He felt protected.

Younger Bucky felt his back rest against something soft. He didn't realize how much he missed the comfort of a bed until, because of the kidnapping, he found himself resting on a cold floor.

His body felt warm, and the aroma of the place was different from before. No more smell of tobacco. Instead, it was the scent of eucalyptus and lemongrass.

He heard someone calling, though the name was unclear. He caught snippets of the conversation.

“Could you watch over him? I'm going to call the police,” said the first voice, concerned.

“Okay. But... is he alright?” the second voice asked, sounding younger.

“I don't think so,” the adult woman replied, her tone worried.

Bucky’s mind struggled to piece together the fragments of memory. The warmth, the scents, and the voices mingled in a haze as he drifted between consciousness and sleep.

He felt something gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “You're safe. My grandma will call the police.”

Bucky exhaled. He struggled to lift his hand, then he felt the one who accompanied him hold it. Her hand felt soft and warm. He murmured, “Thank you.”

He slowly opened his eyes to see the person near him. The silhouette began to clear.

It was you. A younger you. And the older woman who carried him is your grandma.

Flashback End

Bucky woke up from his hypnotized state, breathing heavily. He looked at Javier, his eyes wide with realization. “I remembered,” he said, his voice trembling with the intensity of the memories flooding back.

🍷🍷🍷🍷

At the anniversary party of Celestial Enterprise, the atmosphere buzzed with opulence and excitement. The grand ballroom of the luxury hotel was adorned with crystal chandeliers casting sparkling light across the room.

Tables draped in deep blue silk tablecloths and gold accents were laden with exquisite white roses and lilies floral arrangements. Soft jazz music played in the background, adding a touch of elegance to the evening.

Guests mingled, holding glasses of champagne and exchanging pleasantries. Many were long-time associates, loyal clients, and esteemed partners of Celestial Enterprise, celebrating its 60th year in business. The air was filled with the hum of conversation, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.

Victoria, radiant in a shimmering silver gown that hugged her figure, was undeniably the star of the evening. Her blonde hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was flawless, highlighting her striking features. She moved gracefully through the crowd, accepting congratulations and compliments with a practiced smile.

Her friends, a group of equally well-dressed socialites, surrounded her, their chatter blending with the general noise of the party.

One of her friends, a brunette in a sleek red dress, leaned in closer. “Victoria, darling, was the rumor true that you and Bucky...?” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Victoria shyly nodded her head.

“You’re so lucky. I’m so jealous,” one of her friends said, her voice tinged with envy.

Victoria put her pointed finger to her lips, leaning in conspiratorially. “But you have to keep it a secret,” she said, acting humble, though inwardly she was thrilled to see the jealousy in their eyes.

“You’ve secured your future with the most wanted bachelor.”

Victoria waved a hand dismissively, though she couldn’t hide her smirk. “You guys… stop it.”

“What about your older sister? She must be jealous,” one of the guests chimed in, joining the conversation.

Victoria flinched slightly at the mention of you, but she quickly recovered, taking a sip of her wine. She feigned a kind smile. “If she came home, our parents would introduce her to someone better.”

“Better than Bucky? Good luck!” They all burst into laughter.

“By the way, will he come to this party?” her friends asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Victoria’s smile wavered for a moment. “Probably. He told me he would be late,” she replied, taking another sip of her wine. In truth, Bucky hadn’t given any reply, and she felt a pang of anxiety at his absence.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, her friends continued to fawn over her, showering her with compliments and admiration. Victoria maintained her composed exterior, though her mind was racing, wondering why Bucky hadn’t responded and if he would show up.

She knew Bucky was a quiet person. "Challenging" was the perfect word to describe him. But she would be patient. She didn't want to be pushy and irritate him.

She resolved to act with patience, hoping Bucky would realize she was perfect for him.

“Ooh… it’s him,” one of the guests exclaimed, spotting someone entering the party.

Victoria’s eyes lit up as she saw Bucky arrive. She felt relief wash over her, grateful she wouldn’t have to make excuses for his absence.

With a beautiful smile, she moved to approach her fiancé. All she had to do was stand beside Bucky and bask in the envy of everyone around her.

But her excitement was short-lived when she saw Bucky holding hands with another woman.

Victoria’s grip on her wine glass tightened, the tension evident in her white knuckles. If anyone had been close enough, they might have noticed the glass starting to crack.

Beside Bucky walked another woman, her beauty undeniable as she glided gracefully in her elegant dress.

“Are you sure he’s engaged to Victoria?” another guest whispered, their words barely audible but still carrying across the room. The murmurs began to spread, and Victoria could feel anger rising.

The sight of Bucky holding hands with someone who wasn’t her, his fiancée, filled her with rage.

Of all the women in the world, why does it have to be you?

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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A Love Connection Part 8

Can you believe we have finally reached the end? It has been an absolute blast going through this with all of you. With any luck (fingers crossed) Next week will also have another special story come out next Tuesday, the sequel to Icarus (metal band) so that I can get it out before Halloween.

In this we had the end of Steddie's date, the end of the episode and cute little reunion epilogue. (which may or may not have a 9-1-1 joke)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Once they had walked off their breakfast and was getting hungry for lunch, Eddie was given a picnic basket and cooler by the crew and they drove out to the park for their picnic.

They sat on opposite sides of the park table as Eddie unpacked everything. There were turkey sandwiches with avocado slices and ranch dressing. There were sour cream and onion potato chips, brown sugar baked beans, and homemade potato salad.

He then pulled out black cherry soda from the cooler and his favorite beer. Steve was instantly endeared further.

“Your bestie is an absolute hoot, by the way,” Eddie said, opening the bag of potato chips.

Steve grinned around his first bite of sandwich. “She’s like that. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Not be on this game show for a start,” Eddie teased.

“I’m not surprised she told you about that,” Steve huffed in good humor. “Did she also tell you that technically the whole queer dating season is my fault?”

“You mean your absolutely brilliant and amazing idea?” Eddie said grinning back. “Too much wine and you get really cute, according to her.”

Steve buried his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I’m a silly drunk.”

“Well, rest in peace Garfield,” Eddie said, “your death has brought me the best boy I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. To Valhalla!” He raised his beer and Steve clanked his soda bottle against it.

“He was a good fish,” Steve said solemnly. “I have a cat named Odie now.” He pulled out his phone and flipped to his photos. He handed the phone to Eddie.

“He’s adorable,” Eddie cooed. “My uncle is a huge Garfield fan. He collects mugs and his most prized possession is a Garfield head one.”

Steve grinned. “I’ve people give me flack for naming the fish Garfield and the cat Odie, but fish don’t last long enough in Garfield to have names. And Odie isn’t an orange tabby, so that wouldn’t work for him.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie said nodding his head. He took a bite of his sandwich. “Much better than Subway. I had a lot of fun making everything.”

Steve paused mid bite. “Wait? Really?”

“Yup!” Eddie said. “The potato salad and beans are my uncle’s recipe.”

“They’re really good.”

Eddie blushed and hid behind a lock of hair.

They talked about Eddie’s uncle, Wayne and all of Steve’s kids. Then it was time to pack up. They played at the playground a bit just being silly.

“Now,” Eddie said, after tackling Steve to the ground, “I understand this town doesn’t have minigolf, but it does have bowling and an arcade that has managed to survive the digital era, so what will it be?”

Steve thought about it for a moment. “The arcade. The flashing lights at the bowling can give me a migraine.”

“Score!” Eddie cackled gleefully. “I was hoping for the arcade.”

It was that moment that he realized how close their faces were. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Steve’s mouth.

“Oh,” Steve stuttered when Eddie pulled back. “Wow. That was amazing.”

Eddie smiled widely. “An amazing kiss for an amazing guy.”

Steve knocked out Eddie’s arms and rolled them over, pinning the other man’s arms above his head. He straddled Eddie’s waist and looked down at him fondly. “Gotcha!”

Eddie surged up and kissed him.

Then there was a cough and Steve sprang off of Eddie, looking kinda sheepish. “I kinda forgot about the cameras there,” he said helping Eddie to his feet.

Eddie smiled, smoothing out Steve’s hair. “It’s all right.”

They got back into the car drove to the arcade. They played all sorts of games, they raced each other, played skee ball, Steve even shot a few hoops to win them extra tickets. Tickets they turned in for two matching tiger plushies.

“Hobbes,” Steve said pointing to Eddie’s, “and Tigger.”

“I approve!”

Dinner at Benny’s blew Eddie’s mind as much as Big Ma’s blew Steve’s. He loved everything about it. Including Benny.

Steve couldn’t remember having a date that went this well before in his life. They never ran out of topics to talk about and he was going to have to admit that he was falling a little bit in love.

Finally the date was drawing to a close and it was time for Eddie to ask his questions. They had gone up to the Quarry and set it up for them to sit on the hood of Eddie’s car on a blanket.

“All righty!” Eddie said pulling out cue cards. “First question, who was your first kiss?”

Steve smiled. “A girl named Alice. It’s when I learned it was strictly boys for me. Up to that point I had held on to hope that I was bisexual so that my dad wouldn’t kick my ass. Still dated women in a futile attempt to force myself. But once I got to college, I dropped the pretense.”

“Oof,” Eddie said. “I felt that. My dad was a homophobic asshole too. He came out of the woodwork briefly when I got famous enough to be in the news. But I sent him packing.”

“I think that’s what upset my parents the most,” Steve huffed, “was that I didn’t chose a job that they could depend on after they retired to mooch off of.”

“I hear you,” Eddie said. “Second question, have you played D&D?”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I had sex in high school,” he said quoting that TV show.

Eddie held his hands to his chest. “Are you suggesting that I didn’t? For shame! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!” He moved to get up but Steve grabbed his wallet chain and dragged him back down.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve said, his cheeks beginning to hurt from all the smiling. “I like that.”

Eddie beamed at him. “Yay!”

Steve kissed him on the cheek and he blushed.

“Third question,” Eddie said shyly, “What’s your favorite cartoon series?”

Steve hummed as he thought about it. “Avatar: The Last Airbender. There is just something so good about that show.”

“Yes!” Eddie crowed. “Secret Tunnel, Secret Tunnel!”

Steve laughed. “Or when Sokka got poisoned by the cactus juice?”

“I loved that,” Eddie said, bumping their shoulders together. “What is your favorite quote?”

“Shit, shit, shit, fuckity, shit, shit, fuck and willy. Willy, shit and fuck and...tits,” Steve said with a completely straight face.

Eddie giggled. He stopped to look at Steve in shock and awe and then he giggled again. It just bubbled out of him. “Where the hell is that from? Clearly I’m not watching the right movies, damn.”

“The King’s Speech,” Steve said with a huff of laughter. “It’s about the Duke of York, who had a stammer and was suddenly made king of England when his older brother abdicates.”

“You’ll definitely going to have to show me that one,” he said with a grin. “It sounds fun.”

“It’s not all swearing,” Steve said with a giggle. “It was a scene about his speech therapist trying to get him to swear so that he understands it’s all in his head.”

“Still,” Eddie replied fondly. “If you like it, I still want to see it.” He cleared his throat. “Last question.”

Steve took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Who had the better date, me or Billy?” Eddie asked shyly.

Steve kissed him. “I’ll tell you that in terms of kisses, he only got two. A kiss at the questions portion and again at the door to my hotel room. Now, how many kisses have you gotten?”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled. “I think I lost count.”

Steve kissed him again. “Me too.”

“I hope I’m not being presumptuous,” Eddie murmured, “but I got you a present.”

“Oh?”

Eddie hopped off the hood and opened the trunk. He got out a large white box and brought over to Steve. He handed it to him as he clambered back onto the hood.

Steve opened it up and there nestled the white tissue paper was a lingerie set. It was pink chiffon and white lace. It was a babydoll top and matching bottoms. It wasn’t a thong for which Steve was grateful.

“Eddie it’s beautiful,” he whispered. “I love it.”

Eddie smiled broadly. “I’m glad.” He paused for a moment. “I have a small confession. I’m not a sports fan. The college basketball team was literally pulled out of my ass. I didn’t lie, I used to watch it with Uncle Wayne...”

“But you’re a nerd?” Steve teased.

“Yuck it up, pretty boy,” Eddie said dryly. “But, yes.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “I have a small confession too. Or maybe not so small, depending you.”

“Wha’cha got?”

Steve bit his lower lip and lift the box a little. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I wanted to see how Billy would react.”

“Oh.”

“But seeing it here, with you,” he continued, not looking up. “I want it, with you. I want to be your princess.”

Eddie carefully removed the box from Steve’s hands and moved off to the side. Then he tackled Steve again showering him with kisses.

“Come on back to my hotel room, sweetheart.”

“I’d love to.”

“Welcome back to the ‘Love Connection’,” Bob said. He had changed suits into a nice dove grey one with a silver tie.

Steve was off to one side, while the three Suitors were on a large white sofa.

“Eddie was a runaway favorite leaving the question round,” Bob continued. “Did Billy’s date go well enough for a second date?”

Steve shook his head. “He was charming and sexy, but I don’t think we clicked.”

Billy nodded his head back and forth. “I’d agree, I was hoping for someone a little more adventurous and daring. Someone with hidden depths.”

“Ouch!” Bob winced. “Please tell Eddie fumbled somewhere. Like does he drool in his sleep or have a vodka aunt who is way too invested in his sex life? Something!”

Steve laughed. “I’m afraid not. Eddie was goofy and silly and as one of my students wisely said, the right person for the right now.”

“Wise kid,” Bob said softly. “So overwhelming in favor of Eddie Munson?”

“Very much so!”

Bob turned back to audience. “And there you have it. Join us next time for Tina Peterson, and her three lovely Suitors, Daren, Emily, and Carol.”

When he got home, he had Eddie’s number and promise that Eddie would come down from Chicago to be with him, he just had to do a few things first.

The first episode wouldn’t air until October, so they had to be discreet, but it was nice to have someone he knew was waiting for him.

They had to do a little reunion filming to see if they were still together and if Steve wanted to change his answer.

“Steve welcome back to ‘Love Connection,” the host, Bob said cheerfully. “Why don’t you tell us about what’s been going on in your life?”

“Hey, Bob,” Steve said with a smile. “I’m actually glad to be back. I went on a sabbatical from work after the school year ended.”

“What’s a sabbatical?” Bob asked, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s paid leave,” he explained, “usually in colleges and the like, but basically for a year, I can take time off to focus on other things, but my job will still be there when I get back.”

“Nice.”

“I took it because I appeared on here,” Steve said wryly. “Nothing against the show, but it is a little racier than most schools like for their teachers. This way, the show will air and by the time all the dust settles I can go back to my job.” He shrugged. “If I want to. I haven’t really decided yet.”

“Smart,” Bob agreed. “Tell us about that adorable kitten of yours.”

They flashed up a picture on screen of Odie still tucked under his chin, but much bigger.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a grin. “We found that he’s probably a Maine Coon. Which if you know anything about the breed, biiiiigggg cat.”

“Will he get bigger?” Bob asked his eyes wide.

“Most likely,” Steve replied. “They stop growing at eighteen months.”

“Damn!” He turned to the Suitors. “Gentlemen. Welcome back.”

All three of them murmured their hellos.

“Let’s start with Tommy,” Bob said. “Tell us about what you’ve been up to.”

“I moved to LA and am working full time at a firehouse,” Tommy said with a blush.

The audience oohed as they flashed up a picture of Tommy in his gear with some of his fellow fire fighters.

“Congrats!” Bob said.

“I have a boyfriend, too,” Tommy said. “His name is Evan Kincade and he’s the one on the left of me.”

“Well then!” Bob said brightly. “That’s a first for our show. A discarded Suitor finding love on their own. Well done.”

Tommy blushed. “Thanks.”

“All right, Billy,” Bob said, turning to the man in the middle of the sofa. “Tell us about your last six months.”

Billy brought up one leg and showed off an ankle monitor. “Got into a fight in a bar over a piece of ass that I didn’t know was taken. So I’m teaching youths how to surf as part of my community service. That means I lost sponsors and couldn’t compete outside of LA. But I’ll be back at it next season.”

Bob and Steve share a concerned glance.

Steve is so glad he dodged that bullet.

“And Eddie,” Bob finished. “What have you been up to?”

“Moved to Hawkins to be closer to my uncle, Wayne,” Eddie said with a grin. “When I was working up in Chicago, we’d visit each other on occasion, but now that he’s thinking of retiring, he would really like me closer to home. And I do my producing from anywhere really, so I figured what the hell.”

“That must be nice for your uncle,” Bob said sweetly. “Added bonus of being in Steve’s backyard didn’t hurt either?”

Eddie laughed. “Those two are inseparable now. You’d have to use a crowbar to pry them apart. I also ran a D&D game for Steve’s kids over the summer. Kept it short, but fun. They all had a blast.”

“So are you two still together?” Bob asked, already knowing the question.

Steve smiled over at Eddie who blushed and nodded.

“We moved in together back in June.”

Bob’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ve heard of Uhaul lesbians but damn you guys move fast.”

“My lease was up,” Steve explained. “My best friend was moving in with her girlfriend of two years, and I didn’t want to stay there. So when Eddie got settled into a house in town, I moved in with him.”

“We scandalize our neighbors,” Eddie cackled with glee, “by being gay, democrats, and I’m a metalhead. All the ladies thought Steve was single and brought over baked goods. And only when the last one tried to seduce him, he kissed me in front of all them. Boy did they go running.”

“It’s been great,” Steve insisted. “Fences really do make the best neighbors.”

“Well there you have it,” Bob said. “A great success story.”

When they got home and curled up with Odie, Eddie asked, “Are you still mad at Chrissy and Robin for signing you up without telling you?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe a little. I would have liked to have made the choice for myself, but I am grateful because I got to meet you.”

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said softly.

“I love you, too, Eds.”

Tag List: CLOSED

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #buckingham #everyone is gay #not billy hargrove friendly #tommy hagan

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