#Nah because this is FUCKING insane like sure it can mean Evan but the fact it's there in BBBs7 where he finally figures out he's BI

[sloasis]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BUCK HAD AN ' E ' ON HIS SLEEVE IN BUCK BOTHERED AND BEWILDERED ??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN ?

And he has it again for Holy Mother of God where he's apparently gonna be talking to Maddie about his feelings towards Eddie and realize it means way more than he thought ???

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Wicked Ones

(A Max Phillips x Reader Smutty One-Shot)

Summary: So, a couple months ago I was sent THIS POST like 900 times by all of you screaming at me because I tagged it as “Max Phillips” so...here it is. This is straight up PWP--Max is the big shot boss that we know and love and you are his long time girlfriend. You both call out in favor of staying home and spending some quality time together--but he has an important meeting that he just can’t miss...no matter what he is doing when he gets the call.  

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader Word Count: 3k Warnings/Ratings: NC-17/18+ - smut, pwp, choking, dirty talk, rough, teasing, established relationship, vampireness, slight exhibition kink, hand-over-mouth, having sex while on the phone with your job--MAX. BEHAVE. (spoiler...he doesn’t)

[MASTERLIST]

You weren't sure how this had started. This insane competition between the two of you that seemed to be escalating with each round. It was attributed to the fact that you were both stubborn, cunning, and meticulous in your efforts to please one another. But it had to stop sometime. Right?

If you had to think about it, it probably was your fault. It probably all started on that day you brought him lunch to his office. But it wasn't food that you had in mind. You locked his door, twisted the blinds closed and dropped your black pea-coat revealing the white lingerie that he had gotten you on your anniversary. He seemed to understand then--you were lunch.

He was a walking cliché in the sense that white was his favorite color on you when it came to lacy underthings. He liked the way balconette bras made your breasts into pillows perfect for sleeping, or biting. He liked the way you always wore your panties on top of your garters, meaning he could take them off first and keep the latter on to frame the swell of your perfect ass. And he liked the way the white made you look like something about to be sacrificed, and he was the willing volcano. His second favorite color on you was red...typical.

That day he had spread you out on his desk and eaten your pussy like a man starved. No paperwork was safe from the way you swept your arms above your head when he sucked your clit. Unless they were deaf, you were certain everyone in the office had heard you whine his name as he pounded into you hard enough to make the wooden desk creek with protest. But then again, no one dared say anything because he was the boss. Making you, his girlfriend, untouchable.

This morning you had both called out in favor of staying in bed tangled up with one another. And this was the day you realized you were destined to lose this war.

"Max…" you said breathlessly as you put a hand on the headboard above you to push yourself against him as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"What is it, sweetheart? You like waking up to my big dick? Beats the hell out of going to work--" he grit his teeth and gripped your hips, yanking you down the bed and slamming himself inside of you to the hilt.

"Yesss," you whined, closing your eyes and palming at your own breasts.

It was moments like these that Max made you feel incredibly desirable. His desperate, needy nature in the sack was the exact opposite from his calm and collected management style in the office. You did that. You broke that composure down to its purest form and it was a rush of power so exquisite you coveted it as a prized possession.

“Come here,” he growled as he leaned down and picked you up enough to roll you with him to where you were straddling his lap and he was sitting up against the pile of pillows on your now disheveled bed. His large hand came down on your ass cheek and he grinned. “Fuck yourself on daddy’s dick.”

“Max!” you laughed as you put your hands on his chest. “You did not just call yourself daddy--fuck..” You bit your lip as you started to bounce on his lap, the new position making the movement more intense. The head of him hit the end of you easier and it was a pleasant sharpness deep within your lower abdomen.

“Too much?” he chuckled, and the sound went right to your core.

“You’re always too much.”

“And you love it,” he smirked.

"Nah, I only do this for the extra vacation d-AYS!" You yelp when he pinches your nipple in retaliation for your jest before grinning as you fall into a fit of giggles.

"You're bad, you know that?"

"Says the vampire." Before you can continue to ridicule him, he leans up and kisses you hard, stealing any bite that was left to your words.

His lips were almost as bruising as his fingers that were digging into the soft flesh of where your hips met your ass. You felt the solid press of his fangs inside his mouth and you hungrily asked for more. He opened and gave it to you, letting your tongue trace along his own, and up to his teeth. It had taken a long time to perfect the art of kissing him. You had lost count of the number of times you had nicked your tongue or lip when your mouths and bodies were intertwined. But, Max was a patient man, and it helped that practicing was extremely enjoyable.

He pulled back abruptly and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth, barely giving you time to draw a breath. "Suck--good girl." He grinned and he felt your cunt clench around him as he praised you. His fingers pulled from your lips with a soft pop and he shoved them between your bodies to play with your clit as you continued to ride him.

"S-shit," you breathed, the action bringing you closer to the edge. "Is this my payback for earlier this week?"

"What? That little stunt you pulled in my office?" He shook his head after you gave a nod. "No, your payback for that was me eating that perfect pussy on my desk--now everyone knows how good I make you feel."

Although you knew you should--you didn't care. This was part of that power trip that Max seemed to give you when the two of you fucked. And, well, if anyone did dare to say anything...he would eat them. You were certain he had made it his mission to fuck you all over that corporate building before they sent him to his next assignment at another branch.

"Did Evan hear?" You teased, knowing full well about his past with the previous acting sales manager.

"Why do you think I moved his desk closer to my door?" He snarled and flipped you back over, pinning you to the mattress and jack-hammering his hips against you hard enough to make you cry out.

"Fuck!" You yelled as you dug your nails into his back and held on for dear life. The both of you knew that if you said 'stop', he would, but like hell you wanted him to slow down when your orgasm was so close.

"You good?" He panted as he looked down at your scrunched up face and you nodded.

"Right there. Right-there-right-there-right--" your jumbled pleas fell from your lips in a truly embarrassing manner but you were beyond caring. You were just so close.

His cellphone started to ring on the nightstand to your left and he slowed his hips and the both of you looked at it. The flat black device buzzed so violently that you thought it might fall off the edge. Max continued to piston his hips against the backs of your thighs in such a way that you thought he was going to let it go to voicemail. You should have known better.

"Don't move," he said in a tone that it made you clench around his dick. He groaned as he put his left hand on your lower abdomen as if to hold you down, and leaned over the edge of the bed to grab his bluetooth with his right. "Max Phillips," he said, formally as he slipped the device over the shell of his ear and adjusted his knees back between your thighs. "Yes. Sure, that's fine."

You let out a small huff as you looked up at the ceiling and then back to your boyfriend kneeling between your legs. Surely he wasn't going to just sit there, buried in your cunt while he took a fucking call? The thought made you want to cross your arms at him in annoyance. The both of you had called out for a reason, to avoid your jobs. But despite his skills in delegation, Max was a workaholic--even if he refused to admit it.

"Yeah, I do apologize. I woke up and just felt terrible--"

You raised an eyebrow at him as a small grin slowly overtook his well-kissed lips.

"Is this a good time?" He looked down at you and you started to shake your head, eyes widening as if you could suddenly read his mind. "Actually...it's a perfect time. Fire away."

He thrust forward again, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt and grinning when it made your back bow off of the bed. "Max!" You gasped his name and he put three of his fingers in your mouth, gripping your chin and pushing you back down on the pillows, causing a small gag to come from your throat.

"No, that's just the TV." He chuckled and you swear you felt the sound against your clit. "Yes, I'm sure. I'll turn it down...make sure it's quiet."

You opened your mouth to protest not only the situation but his oh so loving metaphor of speaking about you as an inanimate object. Instead, he leaned forward, clapping his large hand over the bottom half of your face. You yelped against his palm and it just came out incredibly muffled. He put more pressure on your body as he held himself up with one arm and let the full weight of his pelvis and belly press against you as he resumed his thrusts.

"Yeah, I originally told them I wanted thirty percent--"

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, desperately trying to convey with a look how hard it was to be quiet when he insisted on continuing to rail you. You gripped the sheets on either side of your hips and he shoved your leg up higher with his knees and the tip of his cock stroked that beautiful spot deep within you.

"Mhmm," you moaned against his hand, the sheer patheticness of your own voice shamefully making your libido spike. He had you. This was his show. The bedroom was currently his boardroom and as always he was running it.

"No, that's bullshit," Max shook his head, not even sounding like he was exerting himself in the slightest. "They're trying to low ball you, Ted. We talked about this, remember?"

He removed his hand from your mouth and grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. You arched into his hand, biting your lip as he tweaked your nipple. Obviously only half listening to what was being said on the other side of the device, he gave you a wink and your heart did that mildly annoying flop that it had been doing quite a lot lately. He gave your nipple a small tug and when you squealed, he slapped your tit roughly, stealing the sound from your throat with pure surprise.

"Oh...oh fuck, Max," you breathed quietly, but apparently, not quiet enough because he stopped thrusting.

"Just a minute--yeah, just one second, Ted." He clicked the mute button on his earpiece and looked down at you sternly. "Now, if you can't be quiet, I'll make you be quiet." He gave a deep grind of his hips, pressing his cock slowly back into you and you pressed your lips together in a firm line to stay silent. Max smirked, "There’s a good girl."

Oh, you were going to get him back for this.

Max clicked the button again and said, “Alright, champ. I’m back.” He leaned down and kissed you hard, the press of fangs against your closed mouth, a silent promise that made your clit throb. "Yeah, put him on."

Max pistoned his hips against you as they obviously tried to conference call in a third party. The squeak you gave when he hiked your left leg over his right shoulder was apparently justified because he didn't chastise you for it. "Bryce! Talk to me, baby, what's going on? Ted tells me you're thinking about backing out of our arrangement."

He turned his head and nipped the inside of your calf, smirking as you bucked your hips up against his pelvis. You gripped the pillow and shut your eyes tightly trying to think about all of the ways you could one up him--and yet all you could think about was how this new angle had the tip of him brushing against your cervix. It hurt, but in the best way, a short, blunt, feeling followed by the pleasurable drag of his length back through your heat.

He pinched the fleshy part of your skin where your ass met your thigh and mouthed for you to 'open your eyes'. When you complied, he continued.

"Here's the thing, Bryce. A deal this big might be scary at first--but you're never going to reap the rewards if you don't take the risk!" He leaned forward on his knees, pressing your leg back towards your chest and sinking deeper into your cunt. "When you have an opportunity like this in front of you, you have to grab it. Sink your teeth into it, and don't let go until. You. Are. Balls. Deep."

He accentuated each word of his disgusting metaphor with a hard thrust and you reached for him, desperately wanting to hold him close, bury your hands in his hair, anything. Instead he held himself up by locking his left arm rigidly on the bed and grabbing your throat with his right. Your breath caught, and the moan you were about to release was nothing more than a silent vibration against his fingers.

“You heard me--” Max grunted as he slammed his hips against you. “So, just tell me--” He gave a hard thrust and a deep sound of exertion. “What I want to hear--” thrust. “And we can both walk away--” thrust. “Richer men.”

He was close, you knew it, surely he wasn’t audacious enough to finish while he was still on the phone. Who were you kidding? It was Max--of course he would.

You reached up and tried to shove his face to get his attention, put your fingers in his mouth like he had done to you earlier. He obliged and turned his head to suck your pointer and middle between his lips with a loud ‘pop’, laving them with spit. You took the opportunity to then shove them between your legs and play your clit in time with his sloppy thrusts.

“Perfect!” Max said suddenly, and loudly enough to startle you, causing you to buck up against him. “That’s what I like to hear! Ted will send over the paperwork and I’ll get it on Monday--fuck, shit--no, Bryce not you--” he bit his lip and squeezed your throat. The added pressure was just what you needed to peak over the edge of your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and you hand stilled between your legs as you clenched down around his cock and it was apparently enough to bring him with you.

“Max!” You said, strained against his grip around your neck as you leaned up into his body, and held on tightly to his sides.

“Yeah--yeahthatsoundsgreat--Bryce, shut up. Ask Ted--bye---fuuuuuck!”

Max all but flung the Bluetooth across the room as he collapsed almost his full weight on top of you. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder and groaned as he came deep inside of you, hot and hard like his breath against your already flushed skin. You clung to him, drawing full breaths now that his hands were occupied with digging into your back.

“I can’t--” you panted against his hair as you turned your head to kiss his temple. “Believe you just fucking did that.”

“What?” he chuckled against your collarbone as he held you tightly and grunted as his cock gave a last twitch inside of you. “You think those big wigs never have a Skype meeting without their secretary under their desks sucking their dicks?”

“That’s different--gross. We’re not debating this.”

“You have to admit, it was at least kinda hot--” he grinned against your skin as he kissed from your pulse point down your clavicle, to the tops of your breasts. You rolled your eyes, putting your hand in his hair as he continued to nibble on all of your weak spots.

“Don’t think you can use your mouth to get out of trouble. I mean it Max--” you words stopped as he took one of your nipples in his mouth and bit down gently.

“Uh huh, yes, of course, sugar tits--ow!” He laughed as you gripped his hair and pulled at the nickname you hated. He settled his face between your breasts and you kept your tight grip on his hair.

“I swear to god, if you try to motorboat me right now, I will kick you out of this bed.”

“You’re no fun.” He pouted as he kissed down your stomach and you slowly loosened your grip on his hair. His hands slid down your body, over the swell of your hips, pausing only briefly to cup your ass as he walked his knees down the bed.

“And where are you going?” You watched him, raising an eyebrow as he rolled his eyes back up to you with a smirk.

“Using my mouth to get me out of trouble--lay back,” he breathed gently against the insides of your thighs and ran his tongue along the front of his teeth. You knew he wouldn’t out right ask, but if he made you come again, you’d gladly let him feed from your thigh.

“You sure you don’t have another phone call to make?”

“It’s going to be awhile before you quit holding this over my head, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

“Oh, you bet your ass, it is. Get to work, Mister.” You put your hand back in his hair and pushed his head down against your cunt. The moment his mouth opened to envelop your clit, you leaned back against the pillows with a heavy, contented sigh and closed your eyes. “Hmm, that’s the ticket...champ.”

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[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Social Media AU - Social Killing (Part 24)

We’ll be taking a little closer look at the show itself next time...and we’ll see just how Richie’s performance is recieved by the fans 👀

I know the writing for the interview is small, so I’ve put the transcript below just in case anyone needs it!

Also, yes, I am in fact a giant moron who wrote that Social Killing was a weekend-show, and have only now realized that in the interview, it says “Wednesday night” because I wrote it like a month back and forgot I put that. Please pretend that the publication in charge of the interview got the wrong day, and that it is in fact Sunday nights!

----------

Our correspondent, Vincent Lewis, sat down with the main cast of the upcoming Hulu drama “Social Killing” this afternoon to learn more about the show, as well as what drew the cast to the project and what it was like to work together.

Vince: Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you all.

Riley Andersen: Aww, it’s nice to meet you too!

Vince: I can imagine it’s been a long day of press and interviews for you all.

Richie Tozier: Too long.

Jay B: It’s been insane to be honest. It’s unlike anything any of us have ever seen, I think.

Evan Harrison: Yeah, but it’s been fun too, in a weird way.

Vince: I’ll get right to it then. First of all, congratulations to all of you on the show, it’s been receiving rave reviews all around, and it looks like it’s set to be a hit.

Jay: Thanks.

Vince: So, can you tell us a little bit about the characters you four play? No spoilers necessary, just the basic so we know who’s who!

(All four look at each other and laugh)

Richie: I mean…

Evan: Ladies first!

Riley: (laughing) Geez, you guys are mean! Okay, so I play Hailey and she’s a cheerleader at Blackwood High, where the series is set, and she’s...complicated. She isn’t the stereotypical mean cheerleader you usually see in television shows, but she’s definitely not above doing what it takes for her to stay on top.

Vince: Interesting! Gentlemen…?

Evan: Okay, so I play Blake, who’s this kind of preppy, snobbish guy who went to boarding school but has transferred to Blackwood for unknown reasons. He knows pretty much all the town’s secrets since he comes from a rich family and so he kind of has his links everywhere in town.

Jay: I play Sean, who’s this beloved teacher at the school - all the students love him since he’s not stuffy or uptight. He’s kinda the cool English teacher who’s probably smoked a spliff with all his students at some point. But he has a double life that no one knows about, and he wants it to stay that way because he’s seeking justice for something that’s happened to him in the past few years.

Richie:...Oh shit, me. I play a guy called Ted, and he’s brand new to town because he’s looking for a new start after something super tragic happened in his past. So he takes the drama teacher position that just opened up, and he starts to realize that something is kind of off about the town - which, you know, is kinda understatement of the fucking century!

Vince: So everyone’s got a secret then…

Riley: Basically none of us can be trusted, that’s what you should know.

Vince: Now obviously, Jay, you’ve been working pretty consistently in the business since you were young - you would do Canadian kids DIY shows and Québécois dubbing, is that correct?

Jay: Yeah. God, how fucking lame is that?

Vince: No, no, I used to love watching those Canadian kids shows! But since becoming an adult, you’ve done all sorts - comedy, obviously, drama, horror, animation...so what led you to “Social Killing”?

Jay: Well, I mean, my agent sent me a script and I was like ‘holy shit this could be good’; then I saw that Richie fucking Tozier was getting involved and I was like ‘okay, drop everything, I have GOT to do this damn show now’.

Vince: Did you two know each other before doing the show?

Richie: I mean, kinda. He came backstage at some of my shows a few times, and I was like ‘this guy is fucking awesome’. He’s Canadian, so that’s why.

Jay: I’m a very proud Canadian, yeah. Sorry, America, but Canada is the greatest country in the world.

Riley: America sucks right now, so don’t apologize.

Jay: But yeah, I’ve always wanted the chance to work with Richie on something since he’s one of my favourite comedians, so this was a huge opportunity for me.

Richie: And then he actually met me properly and regretted that shit.

(All of them crack up laughing)

Vince: As I understand it, Riley, you’re not entirely new to the world of show business either, because before joining the show you were a dancer.

Richie: Wait, what??

Riley: Yeah, I was. I was a professional dancer.

Jay: Jesus Christ.

Richie: A fucking PROFESSIONAL dancer?!

Riley: Oh come on, you guys knew I was a dancer!

Richie: Not professionally! I thought you just did it for a hobby, not as an actual job!

Riley: Anyway...I danced back-up for a few people, did some background dance work on movies and shows, but this is my first time acting.

Evan: And she’s incredible at it. It’s amazing.

Vince: As I understand it, Evan, you’re also brand new?

Evan: Well, this is my first big role. I did some theatre for a few years, played some gigs at bars to get by, but this is what I really want to be doing. I was so excited when I got cast that I nearly started crying - it’s a dream come true.

Riley: Aww.

Vince: Finally, Richie… You’re a fantastic stand-up comedian, I love your work, but this is your first time acting in anything. What made you want to transition from stand up to television, especially now?

Richie: Woah, yeah, I mean...yeah. (laughs) Honestly, I wanted to do something new. A lot of stuff has changed in the last few years, mostly the content of my stand-up, and I want to distance myself from that old shit as much as possible. And, you know, I’m married now, we’re expecting our first kid soon, so it’s all super serious and shit.

Vince: Congratulations!

Richie: Yeah, thanks! So with the show, I wanted to just...show that I could do it, I guess. Show I was more than just some shitty comedian doing misogynistic jokes that weren’t true. The writers approached me originally since they wanted some humor in the show, but...I guess they liked the other stuff I did once I was on-set.

Riley: Just for the record, I like your new stuff better.

Jay: Oh yeah, for real.

Evan: I still remember seeing the comeback show, first time you did your own material, and I was so blown away. Not just the actual material, but the way you performed and talked about your friends on-stage...it was amazing.

Richie: Thanks, man.

Vince: So, what was it like for the four of you to work together? Were there any scenes where all four of you were present?

Jay: Oh, man…

Evan: (mock dying) Spoilers. Can’t. Give. Them. Away.

Richie: Yeah, you can't see it, but in the building across the road there’s a Hulu representative with a sniper ready to take us out if they think we’ll fuck up.

Vince: Alright, alright, I get it! But what was it like working together? Fun?

Riley: Oh yeah. Definitely. These three guys are super funny and great to work with, you know? Evan would sing songs on set between takes, and we’d all have little impromptu karaoke sessions. Jay is just...really sweet but funny, he keeps quiet sometimes but he genuinely is really fun to be around; he goes nuts about hockey. Richie kept us all laughing, of course, even when we had to shoot more challenging scenes - without giving too much about the show away, there were times where we would be filming, and we’d all be feeling down or tired, and it was really hard. But Richie would keep our spirits up by making jokes, and making sure we were all hanging in there.

Evan: Yeah, Richie’s the best.

Riley: He’s a talented actor too, which is nice to work with.

Jay: Aww jeez, Riley…

Richie: You’re making us sound awesome, and we look like assholes just sitting here nodding.

Evan: To be honest, I worked more with Riley than anyone else and she really undersells herself.

Richie: Yeah. She’s actually super funny - I mean, she’s great on the show but she pulls off comedy pretty well too. I think she’d do pretty well on a comedy show or something. You know, if the show doesn’t work out. (Winks)

Riley: Coming from Trashmouth Tozier, that’s like...the most wonderful thing someone has ever said to me. Oh my god.

Vince: Well, I was going to ask what it was like, being surrounded by all male leads - obviously there are females too, but you four are the focus, and you’re the only woman.

Riley: (laughing) Shh, I don’t think- I don’t think they’ve realized I’m not a guy yet! Don’t tell them!

Jay: Nah, she’s one of the guys clearly!

Richie: Wait, you’re a WOMAN? My life has been a lie, Riley Andersen!

Riley: The blonde ponytail and cheerleading skirt didn’t give it away then.

Richie: It’s 2018, anything can happen. I’d wear a cheerleading skirt. I’m sure my husband would be up for that.

Evan: I am very jealous that Riley got to wear the skirt and I didn’t. It would have made my ass look fantastic.

Jay: I’m not sure if my fiancée would be amused or terrified by me in a cheerleading outfit. I’m like 110lbs soaking wet, so fuck knows what I’d look like.

Riley: (throwing her arms around him) Jay, no, you’d look great! Be more confident in yourself!

Richie: (in a Canadian accent) It’s his Canadian modesty, eh?

Jay: (laughing) Fuck off.

Richie: (still-Canadian-accent) Still mad you left your tuque in the washroom, eh?

Evan: Oh god.

Vince: On that note...thank you so much for meeting with me. Good luck with the show!

“Social Killing” starts 9pm on Wednesday night on Hulu.

[imagines-dreams]

Please Be My Fake Boyfriend - Connor Murphy Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: feelings of low self-esteem, mentions of alcohol, kissing i guess???

Summary: You love your grandparents, and they’re coming over for the holidays! You were paranoid though. You weren’t going to see them for a long time after that, and they desperately wanted to see your boyfriend. Problem is you don’t have a boyfriend. You do have a close friend by the name of Connor Murphy, though.

Word Count: 3843

“You want me to” -Connor shook his head and pulled on his bag’s strap- “what?”

You bit your lip. “I know. I know it sucks, but my grandparents really want to see me with a boyfriend and I won’t see them for another few years, and…” You trailed off. “Connor, I know it’s crazy and weird, and you probably won’t, but I’m…” You rubbed your hands together. “You’re the only one I trust, and my grandparents aren’t exactly healthy.” You smiled nervously. “Sorry. You don’t have to. It’s insane.” You pursed your lips. “You know what, I’m going to go. I’ll see you-”

“Fine.”

You blinked. You smiled sadly. “Connor, you don’t have-”

“No, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “Your family can’t be crazier than mine.”

Your eyes widened.

“They’re not crazy, right?”

You inhaled through your teeth. “Well, let’s just say, if you accept this challenge, we’re gonna have to, uh, set our story straight.”

“You mean…”

“How we met, first kiss, if we want to get married, how many kids, where we want to live.” You stared up at Connor, his eyebrows raised up to his hairline. “And etcetera.” You tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a few short huffs of air.

Connor blinked a few times. He tilted his head back and let out one long breath. “Apparently, I’m doing a lot of shit to get away from my parents this year.”

You beamed. “Thank you!” You leaped onto Connor and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You pulled away and held his shoulders. “You are the absolute best, Connor.”

He rolled his eyes. “Someone’s dramatic.”

“But, until after the reunion, you love me for it.” You smiled. “Um, are you ok with talking about our story after school?”

He nodded. “Yeah sure.”

You smiled. “You’re amazing, Connor!” You kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you after school!”

Your friend was glad you didn’t turn around.. You didn’t see him blush, blink so many times, or lift his hand to his cheek to touch where your lips brushed his cheek. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to get away from his family, but that definitely wasn’t his main reason for saying yes to you. That and he couldn’t say no to you. You were too beautiful, too caring, too genuine. All the things he didn’t think he deserved or needed, but there you were.

Connor licked his lips and went through the motions, all while thinking of you.

You pointed at another uncle in the picture. “Who’s this?”

“The cook who will make me eat more than I can.”

You smiled. “All of them will do that, but yes, the cook of the family.” You pointed at another family member. “This one?”

“(y/n),” he whined.

You huffed. “Fine. Ok ok, then tell me where we met.”

“Class?”

You glared at him.

“I first saw you in English class. You saw me reading a book you’ve read recently. Approached me and the rest is history.”

You opened your mouth, but Connor interrupted you. “You asked me out to dinner a few weeks after my birthday because you were going to ask on my birthday but you chickened out. We dated for three weeks, then kissed on our fourth date when I dropped you off. We are a year into the relationship, so marriage is a thought for after college. I want two kids. You want three. We argue about it. Am I done?”

You gasped. ‘Well, Connor, I honestly didn’t think you were listening, but you are great at surprising me.”

Connor shrugged. “Had nothing better to do.”

“No, really.” You held his hands. “This means a lot. I rarely see my grandparents, and you doing this just…” You met his eyes and felt your heart swell with admiration. “Thank you.” Connor didn’t look up from the table, but you didn’t miss the slight shift in his posture. His shoulders relaxed, and he hid his face behind his hair, a certain sign that he was smiling a bit too wide.

Your phone rang, and the silence splintered. You quickly picked it up. “Hello?” You gasped. “Grandpa, how are you?” You smiled at Connor. “Yeah, actually, I do. I know.” You nodded. “Yes, grandpa. You’ll meet him there. Ok, I’ll see you soon. I love you.” You hung up and took a deep breath. “That was your fake future grandpa-in-law, and he’s very excited to meet you.”

Connor licked his lips. A kid who was accused of being the school shooter meeting an old man and woman who wanted the best for their wonderful granddaughter. He tapped his fingers nervously against the table.“Maybe Evan would be better off for this.”

You blinked. “What? Evan?” You shook your head. “He’d probably end up telling the truth.” You tilted your head. “Look, if you want to back out, you can.”

He smirked. “Nah.” Connor smiled a bit too wide for a second or two, elated that you were still choosing him. Sure it wasn’t his idea of choosing him, but you were still choosing him nonetheless. “It’s fun watching you run around like a headless chicken.”

You smacked his arm. “You’re lucky you’re my friend, Murphy.”

The day arrived. It was a few hours before the reunion just when Connor called you. You smiled at your laptop. “Hey, Con. Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?”

“I am.” He gestured to his outfit, a nice black tuxedo with a black ribbon for a tie. “I was just wondering if I needed to bring anything. My mom used to nag me to bring shit to other people’s-”

You laughed. “First off, even though you look amazing, it’s way too formal for this. Maybe some black jeans and shirt. Second, um, I was going to say not bring something, but maybe a bouquet?”

“So high maintenance,” he teased. Connor opened his closet as he searched for some clothes. “Bouquet for you?”

“Nah, for my mom. She’d love it.”

“Ok.” He groaned. “Uh, what about this?”

You looked at his outfit and woah. Connor in a tux was one thing. Attractive, yes, but a bit out of his personality and circumstance. But him in that black turtleneck and ironed black jeans. You’d never seen that before. Maybe you had but Connor always wore his favorite hoodie over everything.  It as so Connor, and it took your breath away. If only the school could see past the rumors and stereotypes, they’d be able to see what you’s see. A boy so unapologetically true to himself, so honest and blunt, and so passionate about everything he did.

A warm feeling blossomed in your stomach. You were one of the only ones to see Connor like this. What blessed you to be this special?

“You don’t like it,” Connor stated.

You cleared your throat. “No, not at all. Black was always your signature color, huh?”

His shoulders slumped. “I am not changing for my fake girlfriend’s fucking family, (Y/n).”

You laughed. “Oh, please, I wasn’t going to tell you to change. I was going to say at least put your hair up in a red or green ribbon at least.” You held your breath as an image of Connor with his hair tied up with a colorful ribbon popped into your mind. Unapologetically himself and so beautiful. You licked your lips. “Just to be festive. It’s the holidays after all!”

Connor looked around his room and shuffled through a few drawers. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a green or red ribbon.”

The words stumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. “You can come to my house.” When Connor stared at you like you’d grown horns, you stuttered, “I-I mean I have some festive ribbons and things. I-I can lend one to you.” You bit your lip. “You can come here on time, many people won’t be here yet, and I can give you the ribbon?” You smiled a little, trying to convince both your friend and yourself that what you said was totally normal.

Connor blinked. He tried to smile a little. “Then I’ll see you at six.”

“Yeah. Bye, Connor.”

“See ya.”

You hung up. You took a deep breath and settled into your chair, letting your body rest against the chair. Your heart was racing. Your fingers trembled as you placed your hand over your heart. Ye, it was still racing. What was wrong with you? Connor was your closest friend. You didn’t know him for long, maybe a few months, but it felt like you knew each other forever. He was someone you looked up to and went to for everything. You couldn’t possibly…

You shook your head. You had to get through the family reunion first. Past drunk uncles, questioning grandparents, and Connor coming to your house.

Connor was coming to your house!

Shit, you had to get ready!

“You must be Connor!”

You gasped. You excused yourself from your cousins and rushed to your mom at the door. “Connor!” You smiled at the bouquet in your mom’s arms and pulled Connor inside by the hand. You tried to keep your mind off the fact that you were holding his hand while you told your mom, “Mom, this is Connor, my boyfriend.”

Your mom smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Connor, and thank you for the bouquet.”

Connor was still staring at you. You looked beautiful. Stunning.

You nudged him.

He cleared his throat. “Pleasure, Mrs. (Y/l/n).” Connor even bowed his head a little as an awkward sign of respect.

You giggled and once your mom left to put the bouquet in a vase, you turned to Connor and held up a festive clip and a green ribbon. “Which one?”

Connor stared at both of them. “Both are so… cheesy.”

You laughed. “Connor, you can curse It’s fine.”

“Ok, both are shitty. I said it!”

You beamed and motioned for Connor to turn around. You held both of the accessories up to your eyes. You bit your lip and went with the red and green clip. You gathered the top half of his hair and fastened it with the clip. Then, to make it more festive, you tied the ribbon to the clip. “There, perfectly festive.”

“You used both, didn’t you?”

“That’s what you get for putting me in charge.”

“Ey!” A cousin bumped into you and wrapped an arm around you. “(Y/n)! It’s been years.”

“You’re drunk,” you stated. “You’ve only been here thirty minutes?”

“Not drunk, tipsy.” Your cousin stood straighter and eyed Connor. Your fake boyfriend glanced at you before glaring at your tipsy cousin. Your relative sent a hard stare back. You looked between the two, feeling like you should probably do something. “Uh, this is my boyfriend, Connor.” Your statement turned into a question when neither acknowledged you.

You groaned. “Guys!”

They didn’t move. What was this? A masculinity contest?

“Please, Connor!” you whined.

Connor broke. He sighed and went to your side. He held out his hand politely. “I’m Connor.”

Your cousin stared at Connor’s hair. “That’s cheesy.”

Your fake boyfriend put his hand down. “Nevermind.”

“My sweet (Y/n)!” Your grandmother grabbed you by both cheeks and kissed your forehead. “I haven’t seen you in so long, (Y/n). You are so skinny. What happened to you? Has my child not fed you in the last year?”

You laughed. “Grandma, I’m fine.”

“Does grandma get all the love?”

You laughed and hugged your grandpa. “I’ve missed you so much, grandpa.”

“Not as much as I have you.”

Your grandma beamed when she saw Connor. “Is this who I think it is?”

You pulled away from your grandpa and pulled Connor to your side. “Grandpa, grandma, this is Connor. He’s my boyfriend.”

You could feel Connor shaking in your grasp. You rubbed his knuckles. His eyes met yours. They were questioning, worried, terrified maybe. You just smiled and squeezed his hand. You tilted your head towards your grandparents.

Connor took a deep breath and smiled at your relatives. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your grandfather gasped. “Did you see that? That look they shared?”

“Oh, I saw it alright!” Your grandma squealed and held Connor’s hand. “You are a nice young man. Come, sit next to me and Grandpa.”

You gave Connor’s hand one last squeeze before letting him sit between your grandparents.

“Sweetheart, go talk with your cousin,” your grandpa told you.

You opened your mouth to protest, but your grandma interrupted. “We won’t torture him, I promise.”

You stood still for a moment. You smiled at Connor and gave him a thumbs up.

“(Y/n), please,” your grandma said.

You nodded and smiled at Connor one last time before leaving.

Once you were gone, your grandma turned to Connor. “You do know that (Y/n) is a horrible liar.”

His heart stopped. “W-What? I don’t-”

“Even if she was, she couldn’t lie to us,” your grandpa continued. “I knew she was going to pull something like this, like from one of her stories.”

“Can you blame her?” your grandma shot back. “We barely see her.” She took Connor’s hand in hers. “You do feel something for our (Y/n), don’t you, dear?”

Connor denied this truth immediately. “I am her boyfriend. Of course I-”

“I will repeat. You have feelings for (Y/n) and you’re not currently dating because she put you up to this.” She smiled. “Please, don’t lie to an old lady.”

Connor blinked a few times. Then, he sighed. “Fine, you…” He bit his tongue to prevent a curse. He could at least not curse in front of elderly. “Found out. We’re not dating.”

“You should be,” your grandpa teased. “Honestly, I saw those looks you two shared. How long have you known her?”

His eyes darted around the room. “A few months,” Connor admitted.

“And you look at each other like that?” your grandma scoffed. “I don’t understand how you’re not dating. Now, I’m going to give you life-changing advice. If you really feel something for her, tell her. If I know anything about (Y/n), she’d want to know.” She tilted her head. “You’re a handsome young man” -she gestured to his outfit- “with personality and caring enough to go along with this. You deserve someone like her.”

Connor looked at your grandparents. His stomach twisted into knots as he thought of saying something. They thought he was worthy of you? Clearly, they didn’t know him well enough. They didn’t know what people said. They didn’t know what he has done. They didn’t know his family and how he pushed everyone away.

He locked his jaw. “Thank you for the advice.” Then, he got up and left. Your cousin got that liquor from somewhere.

Ok, so you were trying to keep an eye on Connor, but you lost him in the crowd of relatives. You pushed through aunts and uncles and family friend. Then, you spotted your black-clad knight. “Connor!” You reached out and grabbed his hand.

He didn’t turn back to look at you.

You blinked a few times. You maneuvered your way through bodies to step in front of him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Connor still didn’t look at you. He was too busy staring at the ground.

You squeezed his hand and tried to catch his eye. You gently placed your hand on his cheek. “Connor, please” -his eyes met yours and he looked so hopeless and you were heartbroken- “what’ going on?”

Connor opened his mouth, but then your cousins shouted and yelled. “Mistletoe!”

“Now’s not the time!” You glared at all of your relatives. “Stop it!”

But the booze and festive spirit kept them going. It was one of you against all of them. “Guys, stop it, please!” They continued to chant and tease, and you growled. “Stop it!”

You gasped as Connor’s hand was ripped from yours. He kept his head down as he slipped past your relatives and right towards the door. A few of your cousins were surprised but went onto the next couple to tease them with mistletoe a few seconds later. You, you couldn’t get your mind off of Connor Murphy. What did your grandparents say? Were they too hard on him? Did they criticize him? What have you done?

This was all your fault. If you had just let Connor back out, none of this would’ve happened. You just had to be selfish. You just had to want to show your grandparents that you had a boyfriend. You wanted to go through that ritual of Grandpa telling your boyfriend embarrassing stories about himself or of you. You wanted your grandma to compliment you on your choice and to ask you a few too-private, too-early questions. You wanted to experience that.

Why did you have to drag Connor into it?

“Connor,” you whispered.

You didn’t even know where you were. You were somewhere outside your house. It took a while to track Connor. But you found him. That’s what mattered. “I’m sorry,” you let out. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry about whatever grandpa and grandma said to you. I’m sorry about that mistletoe thing.” You gasped for air and stared at the ground. You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t lose Connor.

“You’re crying.”

You looked up. Connor was in front of you, confused and unnervingly calm. You straightened yourself and wiped your tears haphazardly. “Sorry.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. Connor laughed a little, but it sounded more like a wounded cry than that of laughter. “You didn’t do anything. It’s all me like it always is.”

“What are you-”

He rolled his eyes and turned around. He walked away from you again.

“No!” You grabbed his wrist. “Connor-”

“Let go, (Y/n).”

“Please, I’m not losing you. You’re too important.”

Connor glared at you. His voice grew stern, dark, almost threatening. “(Y/n).”

For a semi-second, you were scared. Scared of Connor Murphy. Guilt immediately washed over you. You knew what this meant. You knew what Connor was going to do.

You let go of his hand. Just as he turned around, you said, “Connor, if you’re mad at me, take it out on me.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Please.”

Connor froze for a while. He threw his back as if he just wanted to stare at the stars above. Then, he said so softly, “I’m not mad at you.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not fucking lying.” He stared at you over his shoulder. You could see a shine in his eyes, tears. You wanted to reach for him, to give him physical comfort of some sort, but you were worried about him and how he would interpret your actions. You dug your nails into your palm and rooted yourself to the spot. “Then, who are you mad at?”

Connor turned around fully. “Aren’t you mad at me, too?”

That was a punch to your gut. All the air escaped your lungs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Connor was mad at himself? For what? Nothing bad happened because of him. Did your grandparents say something? Your cousins? You?

“You can’t be that fucking blind? Look at me!” Connor scoffed. He took the clip and ribbon from his hair. He held it in his hand for a second before looking away and letting it drop to the ground. “I fucking told you. I told you to get Evan. Anyone would be better at this shit than me.”

That was it. You grabbed Connor’s hands as gently as you could. “Connor, I chose you for a reason, ok?” You tried to smile as you wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re one of my closest friends. You’re important to me, and I trust you like no one else. Why do you think I let you see all of those embarrassing baby photos and stories from my family, huh?” You bit your lip as you racked your brain for more things to say, but then Connor’s eyes met yours.

Fuck, you couldn’t exactly concentrate on forming and saying coherent sentences when he was looking at you like that. He was looking at you like you were the light at the end of the tunnel. He wasn’t aware that on most days that’s what he was for you.

With all the confusion, feelings, and storm in your brain, one thought shone out. “I’m proud of you, Connor Murphy.” You rubbed his cheeks and sighed when his forehead touched yours. “I’m always proud of you.”

He laughed a little, a pure little melody against the scoffs bitterness from before.

“Are you still mad?” you asked.

He nodded. “I don’t think anything you can say will make me otherwise.”

You shuddered as you breathed. “Why are you mad?”

Connor gulped. His hands roamed from your shoulders to your hips. His touches were so light that if you weren’t concentrating hard enough you would be sure he wasn’t touching you at all. Then, his grip on your hips tightened.

You gasped and reveled in the rush that came along with his touch.

“I’m mad at myself because…” He trailed off to look you in the eye.

You opened your mouth to tell him that it was ok to continue, but his lips came crashing onto yours. Your eyes widened as you felt everything and nothing all at once. You could feel his fingers digging into your dress and putting pressure on your hips. You could feel his hair tickle your cheeks and neck ever so slightly. And his lips were pressed so firmly against yours, trying to force some sort of reaction from you, whatever it may be. It was a question.

You answered happily, kissing him back with everything you had. Your hands went from his cheeks to his hair. You were grateful he took the festive accessory off so that you could tangle your fingers in his hair. You pulled him closer and closer and god it felt so good. You wanted more of it. You didn’t want it to end.

Connor smiled against your lips, apparently more than satisfied with your reaction. He pressed himself against you, and his hands held you as close as he could.

The kiss itself was messy, a combination of pent-up feelings and passion and electricity. You were sure the air around you was crackling with whatever it was that the two of you felt for each other.

Too soon Connor ran out of air and pulled away from you.

Under his trance, you leaned forward to kiss him again. Connor laughed and happily obliged to kiss you sweetly once more.

You took a few deep breaths before finally gasping, “Still mad?”

“I don’t think so.”

You smiled. “Good.” Your lips were dangerously close to his. You hesitated. Your thoughts were still a confused tangle of Connor and feelings and holidays and-

“Kiss me again,” Connor whispered. “Please.”

You giggled. “Gladly.”

Guys its not a drill! I actually updated!!! And its for the holidays too? What the heck?

[jimpotters]

i needed to hate someone and you’re the one i love the most, so it fell on you (james/lily)

“Shit, Evans, what the fuck is your problem?” Potter snaps and this feels different. He’s been mad at her before – she knows she’s frustrating for people she doesn’t insult regularly, let alone Potter who somehow seems to always know how to get at her, make her feel like she’s missing the mark and how does he do that? – but there’s something unhinged in this. The cage coming unlocked, the monster unleashed, and havoc about to be rained down on her with the fury of Avada Kedavra.

(except, even with all those metaphors about curses and monsters, she’s not scared. she’s not. potter would never hurt her; not intentionally. oh, he’ll call her on her shit. call her a daft cow and a stubborn prig and a royal pain in the arse and he’ll mean it. but hurt her? never. not potter.)

Lily rolls her eyes. “Don’t act—”

“No; shut up.” He cuts her off, marching forward until she’s backed herself against the railing. Around them the stairs are spinning but that’s maybe the least unsettling thing about this moment. “Don’t talk. You’re gonna listen to me, for once, Evans.”

She wants to say she has to listen to him constantly since he never fucking shuts up, but the words choke her. Instead, her mouth shuts with a click. Nervously, she licks her lips. Potter glances at her mouth, rocking forward as if he’s going to kiss her, before gaining control and clenching his jaw. It surprises her how badly she wishes he hadn’t restrained himself.

It isn’t that she hates Potter, really, it isn’t. She just hates the way he acts. Remus tells her it’s all an act, Peter tells her he’s just a lad being a lad, and even Black slings an arm around her, casually mentioning that his best mate is a really, very good guy and if she keeps acting uninterested then he’ll make sure his best mate moves on and she’s left in the dust.

It’s sort of sweet, in a twisted boy way.

But there’s no real trace of a ‘sweet Potter’ right now. She knows what Sweet Potter looks like, she’s seen it in the way he takes care of firsties and his mates. This is Serious Potter, with his hair sticking out like elbows, electricity in his voice singing against every nerve of hers.

“I’m so tired of this, Evans.” He starts angrily. “Why do you still hate me? Fuck’s sake, I’ve been pretty bloody well-behaved this year: very few pranks, only seventeen detentions, and I haven’t even fucking bothered a Slytherin since last year unless they started it. What more do you want from me, eh? What more can I give you before you stop hating me like your sodding life depends on it?”

“How about harmless pranks instead of only a few, no detentions, and you fought with Rosier last bloody week, you daft lunatic!” Lily snaps.

“I said shut up,” Potter snarls. “The pranks were fucking harmless and I said I’ve never started shit with the Slytherins! Can’t help it if they start it with me, prig.”

“I don’t ca—”

“I’ve done everything,” Potter continues as if she hasn’t spoken. “To get you to stop fucking hating me. Do you know how hard it is? How painful it is to have the person you love hate you?”

Lily thinks of Petunia’s flat voice telling her she’s out of the wedding. She stays silent.

(only black knows about petunia. only black whose family is more fucked up than anyone’s probably. who came very close last year to losing his new one for reasons lily still doesn’t know. but the common room is empty late that thursday night and she can’t very well leave him sitting there, cold and alone and looking so sad with those big grey eyes so hollow.

i heard you and the lads are on the outs

fuck off, evans

look, it doesn’t mean shit i know, but i get it. and if you need to talk…

you don’t understand shit

when she goes upstairs, she debates not going back down. he’s cruel when he wants to be, she thinks. he’s a prat and a prick. he’s mean. he’s bolstering.

he’s scared and he’s hurt. he’s her last year. what would have happened to her if she hadn’t had dorcas.

my sister hates me, she says sitting beside him, holding out a bag of sugar quills dorcas bought for o.w.l.s. she’ll make it up next hogsmeade but sirius looks far needier.

he looks at her, makes a judgment, and says so does my brother

piece by piece the marauders come back, first peter and sirius, then remus and sirius, then potter and black come to blows in the hall, by the end of which the marauders are back. very little changes with them, very little changes at all after those months, but black calls her marie now – i’m moving up to your first name, can’t do that without your middle name, evans – and every so often she’ll find a sugar quill on her bed after a particularly bad day)

“Don’t pretend you actually like me,” If her voice is wet, Potter doesn’t seem to notice. “Don’t pretend this all hasn’t been a big joke to you!”

Potter reels. “Is that—Is that what you think this has been? A joke?”

She scoffs as bitterly as she can manage. “Don’t lie to me, Potter.”

“You,” His face is pale with fury or shock or maybe both. Lily watches as everything about him tenses inch-by-inch; if she touches him he might shatter. She doesn’t even breathe. He shatters anyway. “You are the most frustrating, insane, ridiculous, mess of a human being in the whole sodding world!”

“I’m touched.” She snaps.

“In the head, maybe.” His voice is barely more than a snarl. “I mean, Merlin, Evans, can’t you fucking see that you’re everything to me? I don’t know how it fucking happened because you are the most singularly mad woman I’ve ever met but you’re goddamn everything. You’re the fucking castle and the magic and my family and my mates and my broom and my bones; you’re the reason I try so fucking hard, the reason my mates think I’m off my arse insane when the truth is I’m off my arse in love with a stubborn prig. Shut up.”

Her mouth clicks closed. She isn’t even sure what she would have said, honestly. What must it even be like to feel that way for someone? She’s had blokes before give her butterflies, for a few months at a time. She’s had Hogsmeade visits and snogs in the empty classrooms; the whole Hogwarts romance package.

She tries to tell herself it’s nothing like how she feels about Potter because she’s not floating with him, not at all. With him it feels like drowning. It feels desperate and crushing she wants to drag him down with her. She’s had dreams about it before. The two of them sinking in the ocean, sometimes they’re struggling, sometimes they’re not.

Sometimes she’s the ocean.

Sometimes he is.

“And the fact that you think I was fucking messing you about is baffling. Would anyone do what I’ve done if they didn’t genuinely want to hold your goddamn hand?”

“You mean hex every bloke that so much as glances at me? Or making enchanted balloons follow me around on my birthday? Or harassing me in class? You can fuck off, Potter.”

He’s in her face so quickly that she would have toppled over the railing if not for his arm around her. She hasn’t been oblivious to the fact that they have literally been toe-to-bloody-toe in this conversation, but every inch of him is practically pressed against her. Blood rushes in her ears and when did get so tall? He towers over her so badly she’d have to get on her tip-toes to even reach his eyes, so intense behind those ugly glasses.

“Evans,” He whispers.

His eyes have gold in them, she thinks dizzily as he gets closer. His eyes have gold and he smells like cologne and help, help, help

“Can’t shut your fucking mouth, can you?” He asks, almost laughing.

Lily rolls her eyes, gripping the stairway railing so hard her knuckles hurt. One billion points to Gryffindor for the way her voice doesn’t shake, “Why don’t you just use magic if you don’t want me to talk so badly? You clearly have no problem hexing other people.”

His hand comes up slowly, giving her the chance to bat it away. His fingers curl, four on the back of her neck, and his thumb delicately running over the hollow of her throat. He’s not applying any pressure but Lily’s throat closes all the same.

“I would never do that.” He murmurs, watching her pulse jump under his hand, she’s sure. “Not to you.”

“Not to anyone.” She fumbles over the words.

Potter meets her eyes, smiling. “Can’t promise that, Evans. Imagine how much better the world would be without Avery’s charming voice.”

She really can’t argue with that. “Or Black’s running commentary in class.”

Potter laughs. “Oh, come off it, Evans. Sirius isn’t so bad.”

“He’s not completely awful,” Lily concedes. “When he feels like it.”

“Don’t gush, Evans, it’s unbecoming.” Potter teases her. The laughter is completely involuntary but Potter’s face lights up so she can’t really regret it.

“Word will spread,” says Lily, grinning toothily despite herself. “And my reputation will be ruined.”

“The Harlot of Hogwarts.” Potter nods seriously.

“Oh dear. What will my mother think?”

“She’ll disown you, probably. Kick you right out of the house.”

“Of course, it’s the only logical solution. I’ll be the talk of the town.”

“You’ll be on all the newspapers, you know.”

“I’ll never be able to escape it, especially because I’ll probably have to use the newspapers to construct a dwelling of some kind.”

“Nah,” Potter smiles that stupid smile again. “You’ll come live with me.”

“You’d take in the Harlot of Hogwarts?” She asks cheekily.

Run away, she tells herself. Get away, this is too close, this is too much, you’re not friends, you have to go before it all comes undone.

“You’d have to put out, of course.” Potter nods seriously. “But yeah.”

“Of course.” Lily promises. “Every night.”

“Every night.” Potter repeats, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Potter!” Lily laughs, hitting his arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“But then where would it live?” He asks, cocking his head at her. Lily stomps down on the urge to drag her fingers gently across his cheek and through his hair. It would probably send the wrong message.

“Maybe in the real world.” She suggests. “You know, where the rest of us live.”

“I like my dream world better.” Potter says and that’s when Lily realizes she’s been trapped in his arms for the past twenty minutes. In fact, she’s practically settled where she is; one hand even resting on his forearm. That stupid sincerity in his voice is back, “You’re there.”

“I’m here too.” She reminds him softly.

Potter shakes his head. “Not the same. Tomorrow we’ll be fighting in the real world. In my dream world we’re kissing instead.”

His hand moves up, thumb stroking over her bottom lip reverently. She reaches up to pull his hand down from her face and he suddenly can’t seem to look at her.

“We’d still fight, James.” His head jerks up at his first name. She doesn’t smile but it’s in her voice when she says, “Even if we were dating, we wouldn’t change. We’d fight and scream and all that rotten stuff as much as we do now because even if we’re dating, you’ll still drive me batty. And I’ll still be a stubborn prig. None of that changes.”

“Except you’d be mine.” He tells her, dropping his eyes again. “And I’d be yours. Really be yours. Not just this rotten situation where I’m yours but you don’t want me.”

Something stings inside her chest, along the struts of her ribs. She knows she doesn’t owe him anything; just because he loves her doesn’t mean she has to love him but she does, Merlin, she loves this stupid man. Maybe that’s why she’s hated him so much. All those shitty things he does infuriate her not just because she hates bullies (she does) but because she knows he can be good and kind and sweet but he doesn’t. She hates that he keeps failing her because if he would just stop acting like a prat because he thinks it looks cool then she could be with him. She would be with him.

She’s never admitted it to herself before.

The realization shakes her.

But it doesn’t change anything, she thinks fatally. James is still a prat, still a bully (better than before, true, but not enough), and until that changes Lily Evans will never give James Potter the time of day. It’s just how it has to be. Until he grows up, at least.

She just hopes him growing up doesn’t mean him growing out of her. Because she’ll wait for him, she knows. She’ll wait and scold and watch carefully for him to change of his own free will. She won��t make him change, won’t force him to change; his growth is not her job. But it is her dream.

(one day he’ll be ready for this. she’ll be ready too. steadily adjusting to this hungry, sick feeling in her chest that makes her want to crawl into his ribs and make a home. she’ll learn to be more open with him, to be less scared of the future. they both have some growing to do but lily is sure they’ll get there: they’re james&lily.)

Lily pushes his head back up to look him in the eye. Encouragingly, but not promising anything, she says, “Give it time, James. We both have growing up to do; it’d be a shame to waste something like this on stupid teenagers.”

He looks pained as he begs, “Lily, are you—”

“I’m not promising anything, James.” She says firmly. “First we have to get to mates.”

James grins so beautifully that Lily almost has to look away. “Just you wait; I’m gonna marry you.”

Lily sighs. “Yeah, see, mates don’t say that to each other.”

“Really? I say that to Remus all the time.” James replies with a smirk.

“Not Peter or Black?”

“I think Remus would make the best spouse of us all, honestly.” James explains. “Black and Peter can duel for the chance to be my mistress.”

“I will warn you, Potter, I don’t take lightly to people on the side.” Lily says, only half-joking.

He really needs to stop doing that thing with eyes or she’ll never gain feeling back in her knees. “Don’t be daft, Evans. What part of ‘everything’ do you not understand?”

“Goodbye, James.” She says, pushing him away from her gently. He steps back willingly, fingers lingering for a moment on her arm.

“Bye, Lily.” He responds. She can feel his eyes on her as she disappears finally up the stairs. When she turns, his staircase is moving but he’s walking down it as it turns. She thinks that might be the quintessential James Potter right there: a young man walking with confidence as the world changes around him, moving quickly without knowing where he’ll end up by the time it all settles.

Wherever it is, she hopes she’s there with him.