#also sorry for shading Harry I do like Harry’s House I just think it’s not his strongest writing compared to his other albums!!!

[stilesssolo]

Hey! 😁 It’s been almost a week since The Album came out, and I wanted to know, what did you think of it? I’m honestly a little disappointed ngl. A lot of the songs are just too short for me 😭 like, I love most of the songs (a few are just okay to me) and so I want there to be more to them, you know? It’s not topping Happiness Begins for me 🤷🏽‍♀️

Oooh, are you seeing the boys on tour btw? I got my ticket as soon as they went on sale 🤘🏽😌

I feel very much the same!! I like the album, I like the beat, but I feel like the writing itself is a lil lacking. Most of the songs I’m tapping my foot but I’m like what are we saying here?? What are we going for?? They all feel a little too short to really get the message across. And I don’t think a song has to be long to be good— like Comeback is one of my fave songs of theirs and it’s barely 2 and a half minutes, but there’s a story there, a clear message. I feel like some of these songs very much fall into the Harry’s House trap of “we are just listing words that fit the vibe.” It’s def not their strongest writing. I remember listening to Happiness Begins on loop after starting BICBTY and being like “wow, I can get so many stories out of these songs, there’s so many ways I can take the ideas of this and turn it into a plotline or a backstory and give it a life of its own.” It really felt like those songs were about something and they kind of drew a picture in my mind and inspired me to come up with things like “what could this line be about?”. I don’t feel that with this album at all (except for a few songs— Little Bird is a notable exception that will absolutely have a follow up one shot once I finish BICBTY. 😂)

I much prefer their work with Ryan Tedder to Jon Bellion; I feel like Happiness Begins and all the songs in between these albums are telling a much clearer story and I agree that The Album isn’t coming close to topping Happiness Begins for me. Also hearing this album makes me long for the lost album with What A Man Gotta Do, X, Five More Minutes, all those songs even more 😂😂

Regardless yes I did get tickets to the tour! I was hesitant to buy them before hearing the album because the two singles did have me wary but the Eras-tour-esque nature of it sold me (plus tickets were like $50 for upper balcony which was more than reasonable 😂). I actually never saw them live before the Happiness Begins tour, so I am super excited to hear more stuff off A Little Bit Longer and Lines Vines and Trying Times aside from their big hits!! LV&TT is critically underrated imo so I’m still very excited for the show, even if The Album’s portion will probably be my least favorite 😂😂

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 12.2k

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

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Part 3: Blue Handprints {You Are Here}

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Mr. Harris walks down the aisle of students, having just given his sentiments to Jackson Whittemore. “Everyone, start reading chapter nine.” He makes his way to the chalkboard, “Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, blowing the yellow lid from his lips and catching it easily in his hand. Instead, he turns to the phone in his pocket, sliding it out to peer at any new messages. He frowns – there were none.

Bouncing his foot on the bar stool, Stiles huffs before leaning towards the fellow lacrosse player in front of him. “Hey, Danny. Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” was his immediate reply.

“Well, I’m going to anyway. You have homeroom with (Y/N), right?”

Danny sighs, trying to read his chemistry chapter. “Yeah, what about it?”

Stiles leans closer, “Was she in class today?”

“No.”

“Has anybody been talking about what happened at the video store last night?”

“Listen, I’m sorry your little girlfriend hasn’t been texting you…”

Stiles’ stool squeaks as he fidgets, “She’s not actually my…”

“… but I’m not the one to look to next. Shouldn’t you be asking Scott?”

“What do you mean girlfriend?”

Danny grips the sides of his textbook with his fingertips, “Just some things I’ve heard on the lacrosse field when she’s there.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was leaning so far forward that he suddenly found himself falling to the tile floor.

“To the principal’s office, Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says in a loud, firm voice. “Don’t forget your highlighter. You can finish coloring the rest of the textbook in detention.”

Stiles wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and besides Mr. Harris didn’t give him a detention slip. This meant that he could sneak out and spend the remaining minutes of the period goofing off.

Or trying to contact one of his friends.

He dials Scott’s number as he leaves class and makes for the parking lot, “Scott! Finally, have you been getting any of my texts?”

“Yeah, like all nine million of them.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Stiles steps into the sunshine and shades his eyes with a hand. “Lydia’s totally MIA. Jackson looks like he’s got a time bomb inserted into his face, another random guy’s dead. And (Y/N) was mauled last night and had to go to the hospital. You have to do something about it!”

Scott was mumbling, “Like what?”

“Something!” Stiles jogs towards his car, hoping to escape any patrolling school staff.

“Okay, I’ll deal with it later.”

Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket as the line went dead. If Scott wasn’t going to help him, then the next best thing was to visit you. While you also weren’t answering his texts, he figures the reason is because of your parents.

After some rest, maybe you are stable enough to answer some questions.

He’s able to sneak his jeep out of the parking lot without any witnesses. The drive to your house is becoming more routine, and he finds it easily. Without even thinking about it, he went to the front door.

It opens to reveal Angela Westbrook. “Oh!” she says with wide eyes, “Stiles Stilinski?”

“Yeah,” he says awkwardly, pointing finger guns at her, “Front desk Westbrook.”

“You haven’t gotten in any trouble have you? You’re supposed to be at school.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “What? No. I’m… I’m here to see (Y/N).”

Angela looks curious, “(Y/N)? I hadn’t realized you two were friends.”

“I was at the video store with her last night.” Stiles tries not to take offense.

“You saw what happened?” she asks, instantly frantic.

Stiles waves his hands around, “No! No, she called me, and I went to help with my dad.”

“She called you first?” It was Angela’s turn to try not to take offense.

“Yeah, my dad pulled me away before you guys showed up.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “So… I can see her?”

Angela puts a smile on her face, “Of course. But not for too long. She still needs her rest.”

He nods, walking inside for the first time. He took note of the piano in the living room, the family pictures on the mantelpiece, and the sound of a little jingle bell. It was coming from the collar of a large gray cat following them up the stairs.

“You have a cat?”

Angela gave a breathy laugh, “He’s (Y/N)’s. She needed a… well, a friend while being homeschooled, I guess.”

Stiles bangs his shoulder into the wall trying to watch the cat follow them. Angela knocks on your door, “(Y/N), sweetie – there’s a Stiles here to see you.”

You were sitting in bed, reading a book and warming your feet underneath a blanket. “Hey, Stiles!”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Angela says with a smile, clasping her hands together. “Just… no funny business.”

“Mom…” you say quietly. “Just leave the door open.”

Once your mom leaves, the cat jumps onto the bed and puts his front paws on your thigh, raising himself to get a pet on the head. He was large with fluffy gray fur and big blue eyes.

Stiles walks over, playing with his fingers. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you sigh, scratching the cat behind the ears, “I’ve been a little on edge.”

He observes your face with his investigative eyes. Your skin was dull, a blue tinge beneath your eyes, even your lips look a little off color. He lingers on that last detail longer than he should.

“How was the hospital?”

“The usual,” you run your fingers down the cats back and up the tail. “Any more stress and I’ll get more bodily damage. I’ll be bed bound… blah, blah, blah.”

Stiles swallows hard, “I think that blah sounds pretty important.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard my whole life,” you wave him off. “How are Lydia and Jackson?”

“Lydia is home and Jackson came to school, although I’m pretty sure he needs to be put in a coma to sleep off his pent up feelings.”

You smile grimly, “Understandable.”

Stiles scratches his shaved head, unsure of how to ask about the video store but knowing he’d have to be careful. He chooses to sit on the bed across from you, crossing his legs and licking his lips. “So… uh – what’s his name?” he points to the cat.

“Oliver,” you smile, “Sometimes I call him Ollie.” The cat was purring against your hand, whiskers perked. “I’ve had him for a couple years. He’s my best friend.”

“That’s what your mom was saying,” he says, watching the cat keep his fluffy tail in the air. Blue eyes found him sitting on the mattress.

You grimace, “Sorry about that. My mom can be…”

“She’s great,” he says quickly. “I thought you slept a little last night.”

“I did,” you say, “Thanks to you.”

The back of his neck suddenly feels hot, “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“The thing every girl wants to hear,” you smile. “Like I said, the hospital wasn’t happy with me.”

“(Y/N), I’ve been doing some research…” Stiles picks at his fingers again. “And you saying there’s something wrong with your heart; and the surgery scar you have…”

You run a delicate finger up the bridge of Ollie’s nose. He closes his eyes and pushes his head into your finger. “I knew you’d do that.”

Stiles licks his lips again, mouth dry, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” you sigh, “What did you find out?”

“I think you have some kind of tachycardia,” he looks at you with soft eyes, his eyelashes framing them. “That’s something that would make you faint and could weaken your heart if it happens too often. I’m not sure what the surgery was though… I’m assuming it was to stop your heart from getting too weak.”

The room felt heavy, but it was a comfortable heaviness, as in you weren’t afraid to talk to Stiles. “You would be right,” you nod, “I was born with a heart defect. It was an atrioventricular canal defect. It means there was a hole in the wall between my heart chambers. The hole made it so blood flow wasn’t controlled well. I had a surgery to fix it.”

“Just last summer?”

“One of them, yeah.” You smile at him like he knew you were still hiding things. “This is a deep conversation for another day, Stiles.”

“But…” he presses on, leaning forward, “If you fixed the heart defect, you shouldn’t have any heart problems now, right?”

You shrug, “Things happen.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything else today, are you?”

“You got my one personal thing of the day. You know I had a congenital heart defect and now I have ventricular tachycardia.” Scratching under Oliver’s chin, you sigh, “I’m sure you’ll do more research on that later.”

Ollie continues to purr and put Stiles in his line of sight. With soft paws, he walks across the covers and perches on Stiles’ knee.

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do, his hands shooting into the air.

“He doesn’t bite,” you laugh, “He just wants a pet.”

Oliver’s tail swishes around the covers, and Stiles lowers a hand. The cat rubs the top of his head into the palm. “He’s so soft.”

You rub your arms, “He’s a great judge of character.”

“(Y/N), the other thing I wanted to ask…” Stiles continues to pet the cat, enjoying the purring immensely. “… was about last night.” He doesn’t like the way you gulp. “What happened?”

“Well, Arnett decided not to show up,” you shrug, “Big surprise. Still hurt though.”

Stiles mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Piece of shit.”

You retell the events leading to the lights flickering on and off over the dead store manager. “Then there was this growling. Like an animal.” A waver enters your voice and goosebumps blossom on your bare arms.

Oliver senses your change of mood and returns to your side, nuzzling your knee.

“I only got a few seconds to look before…” you gesture to the bandages on your left shoulder, “It was some kind of… wolf.” Your watch lit up with a reading from your heart. The rate was rising exponentially.

“Okay,” Stiles says, scooting closer, “That’s good. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Did your dad say anything about it? Were they able to catch whatever it was?”

He sighs, “No. We haven’t found anything. They think it was just a wild animal attack.” He was itching to touch you again, hold your hand and calm you down again. He wanted to protect your heart. “You’re safe here. You have Ollie to protect you.”

That made you smile, and Stiles took great pride in that.

“Did you wish Allison a happy birthday before skipping school?”

Stiles watches your heart rate lower on your watch screen, “I didn’t know it was her birthday.”

“It was kind of a secret,” you pick up Ollie, resting your face against his head. “Lydia and I decorated her locker yesterday after school.”

Stiles smacks his forehead, “That’s where Scott is! That idiot probably took her out for her birthday. No wonder he’s been avoiding my texts.”

There was another knock on the door, “Sweetie, it’s time to change your bandages.” Your mom was there with fresh cloth and something antibiotic.

“I can do it,” Stiles says, “(Y/N) can tell me what to do.” He rolls off the bed, tripping over his ankle as he stands straight.

Angela raises her eyebrows at you, but you nod. “Okay, but if you need help please call me. I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

Stiles awkwardly took the supplies from your mom, mouthing a thank you before returning to the bed. “You’re really going to have to help me with this one.”

You grimace, “It’s not going to be pretty.” You pull an arm out of your pajama top to reveal a tank top underneath, one strap hanging off the large white bandages on your shoulder. Stiles flexes his fingers.

“I should wash my hands probably.”

“I have hand sanitizer in my nightstand,” you giggle, already starting to pick the medical tape off the edge of the bandage.

He cleans his hands, helping you remove the bandage. You hiss as he lifts it from the wound, blood weeping from the gashes. Stiles has to stifle a groan of disgust.

“God,” he mumbles, “It still looks so fresh.”

You suck in your lips, amused by his expression, “I didn’t realize you were so queasy around blood.”

“It’s not that,” he threw the old bandage in the garbage. “It’s just it’s… you. I hate seeing you with this.” He looks closer at the claw marks, taking some gauze and catching some pinkish fluid seeping out.

You fidget as he touches the red, irritated skin under the wound. “It still hurts a lot.”

“It’s still bleeding and… wet,” Stiles frowns.

“It’s called serous drainage,” you laugh at his look of shock, “It’s a normal part of the healing process. But too much can be a sign of infection.”

“It might be infected,” Stiles says immediately. “This is a lot.”

You wave him off with your other hand, “We’ll wait to see if I have a fever.”

“Just saying, it would explain why you look like a dead man walking.”

“You’re just full of compliments today, aren’t you?” But you were smiling as you say it.

~~~

A few days later Stiles was sitting in his morning English class, staring at the seat that you normally occupy. He was flipping his phone around his fingers, waiting for your next reply.

He was angry and biting the inside of his cheeks.

“It’s not his fault,” you text.

“He bailed on the date night, and you end up getting mauled. And then he bails on conferences and my dad gets hit by a car. Tell me again how he’s not a shitty friend?”

You take a minute to answer, “Those were all accidents. You can’t prove Scott being there could’ve stopped anything.”

“Yeah, it still would’ve been nice to have him be there.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t of.”

Stiles knits his brow at your message. “You’re hurt. I’m not upset about you not being at conferences. Besides with your luck that mountain lion would’ve went for you.”

“You still don’t think it was the same animal from the video store?”

“I trust you. If you say it was a wolf, then it was a wolf.”

Scott comes walking into class, sheepish in how he sits behind Stiles. Shoulders tense, Stiles sits resolutely forward, closing his phone and avoiding his best friend. Scott sighs, frustrated at more than just himself.

“Can you at least tell me if your dad’s okay? I mean, it’s just a bruise, right?” He was grasping at straws, “Some soft tissue damage?”

Stiles was running his tongue along the bite marks inside his cheeks.

“You know I feel really bad about it, right?” Folding his arms, Scott tries to explain himself, “Okay, what if I told you I’m trying to figure this whole thing out, and that I went to Derek for help?”

Stiles stops his eye twitching to grumble, “If I was talking to you, I’d say that you’re an idiot for trusting him. But obviously I’m not talking to you.”

As the bell rings, Stiles leans forward and contemplates the new development in Derek’s involvement. He stares at his phone lighting up with a new message from you, “Go easy on him.”

He grits his teeth, angry at his curiosity getting the best of him. He whips around, “I still haven’t forgiven you for not being there for (Y/N).”

“I get it,” Scott looks hopeful. “I really do.”

“Lately she’s been there for me more than you have, which is saying something considering we used be connected at the hip. I get this werewolf thing happened and then Allison and now a Derek/Alpha thing… but you don’t just abandon your friends. If anything you should be closer to them when things get hard.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Scott mutters, “I’ll stop by (Y/N)’s place and check on her, alright? I know she deserves better… and that she means a lot to you.”

Stiles sighs heavily through his nose, drumming his fingers on the back of his chair. “Okay. What did Derek say?”

Throughout the day Stiles concocted a plan to help Scott with his anger issues. He spent classes thinking about heart rates and helping Scott avoid Allison as much as possible. After spending a quick minute in Coach’s office, they met outside on the lacrosse field.

“Okay,” he pulls out a heart rate monitor, “Put this on.”

Scott grabs it, “Isn’t this for the track team?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it,” Stiles says.

“Stole it.”

Offended, Stiles set his tone, “Temporarily misappropriated. Listen, I got the idea from (Y/N). She measures her heart rate through her watch, and it sends her readings through her phone. It’s easy to connect through a health app. And you’re gonna wear that monitor for the rest of the day.”

“And it’s connected to your phone?” Scott says, putting the monitor on.

He pulls out his phone and went to the health app, “Yeah, you know your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you’re playing lacrosse, when you’re with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate.” He shows Scott his screen, “See?”

There were two different heart rates being monitored on the screen. One being Scott’s and the other one being…

“Are you watching your own heart rate?” Scott asks, “Who’s that one?”

“I don’t know, doesn’t matter.” Clearly having messed up, Stiles shoves his phone in his pocket and starts riffling through his duffel bag of supplies.

Scott has a smirk on his face, “It’s (Y/N)’s heart rate, isn’t it.”

“Shut up.”

~~~

After a quick getaway from another heart rate experiment, and a few cuts and bruises for Scott, the pair of them drove to your house for an apologetic visit.

“Dude, you got to wipe all that blood off,” Stiles says, “You look like a murder victim.”

“It’ll stop in a second. I’ll heal no problem.”

“Let’s hope her parents are still at work.”

In front of your house, Scott wipes his nose, hoping you wouldn’t notice too much. The injuries were already healed, it was just the leftover blood that he needed to wash off.

It took a few minutes for anyone to answer, and Stiles checks his phone. Your heart rate is slightly elevated.

The door opens slowly, and everyone has a gasping reaction.

“Oh my god, Scott,” you say in a shallow voice, “Why are you covered in blood?”

Stiles’ mouth was gaping as Scott fumbles for words to say, “Uh, I might’ve gotten in a fight at school. Someone got a bloody nose and… I got it on me.”

If Stiles thought you looked like a dead man walking a few days ago, he didn’t realize how worse you would look today. That bluish tinge to your under eyes was deep and the purple of your lips was like looking at a corpse. Your ashy skin was speckled with sweat around your temples. You look sick… really sick.

“(Y/N)…” Stiles says, hands starting to tremble as he reaches for the door, “What…”

“Let me get you another shirt,” you say tiredly, backing away from the door. “My dad has some old Saturday t-shirts in the laundry room.”

“Are your parents here?” Scott asks, following you and Stiles inside. A quick sound check told him that they were the only ones home.

You sound as though it was hard to breathe, “They’re still at work. I convinced my mom to take her evening shift today. She’s been staying home all week because of me.”

The sight of you shuffling side to side, tank top and shorts on under a robe – the robe tie dragging on the ground – hair falling out of a wild bun… it was disheartening. What was wrong with you?

Scott could smell something. Something sickly. “I don’t need another shirt, (Y/N), really. I just wanted to check on you.”

You turn around in the hallway, ghostly in the dimly lit space. “Oh? That’s kind of you.”

“I know I’ve been kind of distant,” he continues, eyeing the worry enveloping Stiles. “And I want to change that. Life has been chaotic, but I want to make time to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, “But I’ve been in good hands.”

“Clearly not good enough,” Stiles says, “When was the last time you changed your bandages, (Y/N)?”

You shrug and then grimace at the movement, “Sometime yesterday.” You were swaying on your feet and Stiles took a step forward, prepared to catch you.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” he says calmly, “Let’s sit down.” He guides you to a dining chair while directing Scott to check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. “You don’t look so good.”

“So you keep telling me, Stiles,” you smile again, “You need to work on those compliments.” You struggle to pull your arm out of the robe sleeve.

“Here, let me.”

While he pulls out your arm, apologizing for causing any discomfort, he mumbles things to distract you as he takes off the bandage. “I like your pajamas.”

White fabric with little lemons and mint leaves printed on them, along with a robe of fuzzy summer fruits. It was just so you. If only he could still smell that wonderful fruity shampoo from your hair.

“Thank you,” you groan as he removes the bandage painfully.

“Oh my god,” he chokes.

The wound underneath was red and aggravated. It was still weeping blood and whatever fluid you had mentioned before. The center of each deep claw mark had a purple-blue color, and he didn’t like how venomous it looked.

Scott appears beside you, following that sickly scent to your shoulder. It smelt worse than infection, it had a familiar tang to it. Something wolfish about it. That terrifies him. “I’m going to call Derek.”

“What?” you and Stiles say at the same time.

“I have a feeling he’ll know what to do,” he eyes Stiles, pulling out his phone, “Don’t bandage it until he looks at it.”

“Is something wrong?” you say feverishly, looking at Stiles with half-closed eyes. He chooses to focus on your face instead of your wound. But his eyes were no longer a honey brown or an amber whiskey.

They were steely like fossilized tree sap.

“I think you just need some extra strength Tylenol,” he jokes, “Or a rabies shot.”

“God, my mom is never going to let me leave the house again if I don’t stop getting sick.” You hang your head, sweat speckling the back of your neck too. Stiles gingerly puts a hand to your back and rubs up and down your spine.

“You’ll get better, I promise.”

“You’re such a liar,” you cough, “I’m not going to get better. This is what it’ll be… just worse and worse.”

Stiles didn’t like the hurt that was developing in his chest. That inflation feeling in his ribcage came full force but was threaded with hurt. It hurt to see you like this.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nonsense,” you say with sorrow, “Don’t listen to me. I’m sick.”

Scott returns with determination in his step, “Derek’s almost here.” He kneels beside your chair, a hand on your good arm. “This is my fault. If I was there for you then this…”

“It’s not your fault, Scott. It’s not a crime to not want to third wheel.”

“What do you smell?” Stiles whispers under his breath. You have a difficult time concentrating enough to hear him.

Scott mutters something back, “Nothing good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

Derek comes walking into the house, “This isn’t something the hospital can fix.” His nose crinkles at your exposed arm. “She was clawed by the alpha, right?”

Stiles waves a frantic hand, shushing him while Scott mouths at him to shut up.

“You guys are idiots.” Derek looks angry, “You haven’t told her anything yet?”

“Told me what?” you lift your heavy head. “Derek?”

The boys pull Derek aside and quickly whisper a conversation.

“Did the alpha do something to her?” Scott asks worriedly. He’d feel even worse if your injury was a result of his werewolf business.

Derek folds his massive arms, “If an alpha scratches a human and it makes a deep enough cut, the werewolf change could happen.”

Stiles chokes on his breath, “You mean she could be transforming!?”

“It doesn’t have to be a bite?” Scott whisper shouts.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Stiles pulls at the ends of his shaved hair. “Why is it making her so sick.”

Derek sighs heavily, “Because her body is rejecting the change. It’s trying to fight off the spread of infection. It’s impressive really.”

“You mean she might be fine?” Scott asks, “She’ll get over it?”

“Maybe,” Derek shrugs, “It could just kill her.”

Stiles swallows thickly, “Tell us how to help her.”

“You just have to let the infection run its course. There aren’t any werewolf antibiotics out there for a wound like that. Tell her to sleep it off.”

“Sleep it off?” Stiles says incredulously. “That’s the best you got?”

“I have other pressing matters. Including a meeting with your boss, Scott.”

Scott took a pause, “What has my boss got to do with anything?”

“I’ll let you know when I finish interrogating him.” Subconsciously or not, Derek was flexing his arms in a way that made him look gigantic.

Scott wasn’t intimidated, “If you lay a hand on Deaton…”

“He’s already in the trunk,” Derek says blandly, “You interrupted my questioning before I could finish.”

“Oh my god,” Scott mumbles, chest tight with oncoming rage.

Stiles was flailing his arms around like they were limp noodles. “Hello! Did we forget the sick-because-of-alpha-claws girl right behind us. Let’s handle one problem at a time.”

Derek was already out the door, “(Y/N)’s fate isn’t my problem. And Deaton isn’t your concern.”

“It is considering he’s my boss!” Scott follows him outside.

“Alright, Scott, you want answers?” Derek spins around on the lawn, “Those spirals you’ve been asking about… it’s our sign for a vendetta. It’s revenge. It means he won’t stop killing until he’s satisfied!”

Scott gawks at him, “You think Deaton’s the alpha!?”

“We’re about to find out.”

“No! Derek, listen. There’s another way to draw out the alpha. I’m connected to him remember?” Scott sounds desperate and on the verge of growing claws. Stiles stands on the porch, anxious to keep you from hearing any of this. “I can try to get him to reveal himself.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Derek has a steely blue tinge in his eyes, almost as if they were glowing.

Scott looks around him, jerky in his head movements as he tries to create a plan, “Just give me an hour and then meet us at the school. I’ll call to the alpha and we’ll see if there’s a response.”

Derek, rippling with rage, seems to consider. In the next second he growls under his breath and goes to his car. Scott took that as he was in agreement with the new plan.

He turns around to see Stiles giving him a death glare, hands stuck under his armpits as if he’s stopping them from throwing punches.

“Are you forgetting about our teensy-weensy other problem, Scott? Maybe our other friend currently dying inside?”

“She’s not dying,” Scott says as he stomps toward the house again.

Stiles shoves his shoulder as he walks past, “I don’t feel right leaving (Y/N) here while we go tango with the alpha at the school.”

“We could call her mom,” Scott suggests, making his way back to the dining table.

“She’ll hate that,” Stiles mumbles, meeting him at your chair. He kneels beside you again, careful as you were dozing off. Leaning against the table, your chin rests in your hand – your mouth slightly open as you take small breaths.

Scott shrugs his shoulders, “Well, then who do we call? All our other friends are occupied with themselves.” It suddenly dawned on him that he was supposed to meet Allison for a study date. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Finally realized that did you?” Stiles says sarcastically, “Who else do we trust?”

“Someone from the lacrosse team?” Scott says with a wince, “She’s gotten close with a couple of the guys there.”

A flicker of red hot flame licks up Stiles’ side. “Sure, yeah – one of the potential lacrosse boyfriends.”

“Oh please, we could call Danny,” Scott waves him off. “Although Andrew Wickstrom would probably be more willing.”

Good guy Andrew Wickstrom? Stiles did not like that idea. Not because he was just another blockhead lacrosse guy… but because he was genuinely a nice guy. And the possibility of you falling for him was very high.

“He’s better than leaving her here alone,” Scott says, going through his phone. “At least until her parents get off work.”

Stiles curses him, but he agrees. He rests one of his hands on your good shoulder, “(Y/N), hey…”

You stir in your daze, “Where’s Derek?”

“He left, don’t worry,” was his reply. Licking his lips he starts to prepare fresh bandages for your shoulder. “Listen, Andrew is going to come look after you until your mom gets home.”

“Who?”

“Andrew Wickstrom? From the team,” Stiles says, trying to keep the disdain from his voice. “Scott and I need to handle something at the school. And you need to stay here and get some rest.”

He applies pressure on your shoulder with disinfected gauze and you gasp with pain.

“You just have a 24-hour bug,” he continues to distract you. “And in the morning you’ll be right as rain, I promise.”

“Again you’re such a liar,” you smile painfully.

He loves your humor. “I’ll come check on you when we’re done. Just don’t go falling in love with this guy, alright?”

You laugh, “No promises.”

~~~

You were cuddled on the couch, pulling up your favorite forest green blanket to your chin. You try to fix your hair bun, but it was still falling out in wavy strands. The television was set low, a true crime miniseries on.

Andrew returns to the living room, a gatorade in an iced glass with a straw. He went back to his spot on the ground, propped against the couch arm and near your head.

“Did I miss anything?” he lifts the glass over his shoulder and directs the straw between your lips.

You take a few sips, humming your thanks. “I think the husband did it.”

“But there was all that text evidence showing how the wife verbally abused him. I think he’s a scaredy cat.”

“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have lashed out and killed her.”

He grins, “You’re way into these true crime cases.”

“They’re interesting,” you snuggle further into the blanket, “And I like to see the medical side of things.”

“Can I check your fever?” he gropes under the pile of supplies Stiles had left them and found a thermometer. He brushes your wispy fly-aways into your bun and put the thermometer to your forehead. After it beeps he looks at it, “102.3, that’s a little high.”

“We don’t need the hospital until it’s 105.”

He got comfortable again, crossing his arms. “It’s weird. I hadn’t imagined the first time we hang out was going to involve playing nurse.”

“I appreciate it, really,” you say tiredly. “It’s nice of you to spend your night here. I’m pretty sure my parents would pay you like a babysitter too.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, dimples showing. “I don’t mind. I like this, spending time with you. Even if you are super sick.”

You giggle but end it in a cough. “You know I was kind of hoping you’d come talk to me at lacrosse practice.”

Andrew turns so he’s facing you cross legged on the ground, “No way.”

“A perk of TAing for Coach is that I get to watch all you handsome lacrosse players play,” you wink, “I might’ve had my eye on you a couple of times.”

“I’m flattered,” he grins back, “You were always surrounded by a crowd, and I wasn’t sure you wanted another guy forcing his way in.”

You prop your head up a little, “You wouldn’t have needed to force yourself in. I would’ve just welcomed you.”

He bows his head, brown curls hanging in coils. “I wish I would’ve figured that out sooner. Maybe our first night together would’ve had you feeling better.”

“No, this is better,” you smile, “This is more memorable.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked to see you again…” he rubs his hands awkwardly on his knees, “… outside of school.”

“Please!” you say, “I’m so sick of being stuck at my house. Any plans I can look forward to is a blessing.”

He fixes the edge of your blanket, pulling it up a few inches. “Then I’ll think of something really fun.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” he plays with his hair. It’s cute. “Maybe something with a bookstore.”

Your sunken eyes widen a bit. “How did you know I like to read?”

“It might’ve been the book you always have with you at school,” he laughs, “Or the time Coach yelled at you because you were reading in the bleachers instead of grabbing more helmets.”

“Well, if you’re buying then I won’t say no to a bookstore.”

Andrew grins, a beautiful smile with his curly hair and warm, green eyes. “It’s a date.”

~~~

“It’s a what?!” Stiles was whispering as loudly as he could.

You were sitting up in bed, limp and frail but with a little more life in your cheeks. “I think he asked me out on a date.”

Scott shut the window behind him, “That’s great, (Y/N).” You miss the pitying look he sent Stiles’ way.

“What did you say?” Stiles asks, sitting on the bed next to you.

You shrug, “I kind of just smiled and we kept watching the true crime.”

“Oh god,” Stiles grumbles, “You’re going to fall in love with him.” He watches a blush rise in your cheeks, “No… no – there’s no falling in love right now. You’re just getting over a fever.” He starts to fan your cheeks, making you laugh.

Scott pulls your desk chair over, “But you do feel better?”

“Completely – Andrew cured me!”

“It was that gatorade I left.”

You try to hide a smile, “Or it could’ve been the goodbye kiss.” Stiles jumps on the mattress, slamming the headboard into the wall. You smack his arm, “God, Stiles I was kidding. My fever just broke.”

“How did your parents take it?” Scott asks. He seems a little put out in comparison to earlier that day.

“My mom was really grateful.” You flicker your eyes between the pair of them. “So are you going to tell me what was going on with Derek visiting to check on my wound?”

“Oh, you know…” Scott says instantly. Stiles was flapping his gums like a fish out of water. “He’s seen animal attacks considering… his sister… was killed that way. He just said to sleep it off.”

You lean against the headboard, nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. “Well, he was right.” The jumpiness in Scott’s fidgeting made you suspect some lying. It irks you to know that there were still secrets they were keeping from you. “Hey, I thought you and Allison had a study date. What business did you have at the school?”

“Um…” Scott was picking at his fingernails, “That’s where I decided to surprise Allison with our studying.”

Your brow knits, “But the school is closed and locked at night.”

Stiles has his hands running over his head, “Scott, the others are going to tell her what happened.”

“Meaning?” you nudge Stiles with your shoulder.

Scott was full of conflict, whipping his eyes between different spots in the room. “Derek told us of a hunch that led us to the school. He spotted that monster wolf you saw at the video store. Allison got a strange text that might’ve come from Derek too.” He looks to you with slight panic, “It told her to meet me at the school. She was with Lydia and Jackson, so they came too.”

“I crashed my car and everything trying to get away,” Stiles says, trying to cover all their assets.

“I missed quite the party,” you whisper, searching for tells of his lying in the words.

“We were chased and attacked. A janitor died. We weren’t sure if it was the wolf monster or Derek.”

You lean away from Stiles and he darts his head to you, “I thought Derek was innocent of everything.” An ache was in the pit of your stomach, it made you feel empty and distrustful. It was plain how much they were hiding from you.

Of course you were also being a hypocrite because you hadn’t told them everything either.

“There might be more evidence,” Scott tries to continue.

“Like what?” you fold your arms, “You have any proof?”

Stiles was piecing together you shrinking away from them, “Enough that we called my dad in on it.”

“You know, I’m tired,” you say, “I think you guys should go.”

The boys share a look, and you miss the worry enveloping Stiles’ face. He pulls his wide shoulders inward to avoid touching you.

“Sure,” Stiles says, “You’ve had a long day.”

“We’re glad you’re better,” Scott adds, standing to open the window again. “Hopefully you’re well enough for school on Monday.” He slides himself outside while Stiles stops at the sill.

He licks his lips, a habit of his especially when he’s thinking. “Hey, listen, I’m going to try to fix my jeep this weekend. If you’re free maybe we could do it together.” He wipes his hands along his pants, fidgety in how he was looking at the floor, then at you, then at the floor again. “It’s no problem if not.”

You nod but avoid looking at him as he slips out. You sit there with your peachy lamp on, upset and confused. You like Scott and Stiles. They were some of the first friends you made when you started public school. Stiles had been so attentive and gently nudged you to be more open.

But the achy feeling of emptiness in your stomach was becoming more prevalent. It had been an on and off feeling since getting to know the boys. Stiles had been swooping in to calm your nerves with small nuggets of truth.

A few more lies and you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore.

A couple of days later and fully recovered from your infectious fever, you eat lunch on Saturday afternoon. Your dad slides a BLT your way and sits down with his own.

He nibbles on a piece of bacon, “Any plans for your post sickness weekend?”

“Catch up on the homework Allison brought me,” you take a sip of soda, “And try not to kill Scott for hurting her.”

“Are they okay?” Tom asks.

You shake your head, “She broke up with him. He snapped at her when she was scared. Kind of a dick move.”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” you grimace, wiping the tired from your eyes. “I’m mad at him too.”

“What a dick,” he says, winking at you.

It makes you smile, “I know he means well. I think he’s just being a stupid teenage boy.”

“Having been a stupid teenage boy myself I can vouch for him.” He eats the larger pile of bacon on his plate, “What about that other boy that visited the other day?”

“Stiles?” you sigh, “I’m upset with him too. I think they’re hiding something from me.”

Both you and your dad say at the same time, “Stupid teenage boys.”

“But that Andrew is nice,” your mom enters the kitchen, gardening gloves in hand. “I like him.”

“You like that he was taking care of me,” you roll your eyes. “You know Scott and Stiles were here doing that same thing earlier that day.”

Angela went for the shoes she wore in the garden by the back door, “Do they know about your heart?”

“I told Stiles some things and he’s told our other friends,” you shrug, “Just about the heart defect and my tachycardia.”

Your parents nod – your dad finishing his lunch much faster than you, “That’s better than nothing. I feel better knowing you’re out with kids that can help you if you feel faint.”

Your mom leaves for the backyard and your dad goes to get you another can of soda.

“Maybe I’ll stop by Stiles’ place today.”

“The Sheriff’s house?” Tom says, “You must not be that upset with him.”

You stand, your heart stuttering, “Eh… I’ll let you know if I need a getaway driver.”

The walk to Stiles’ house was long but nice with the California sun out. Your skin soaks up the warmth, unstiffening your bones from the sickbed. The birds twitter past and trees shimmer their leaves above you.

If your mom knew you were walking such a long way, she would have given you house arrest. But you monitor your heart rate through your watch the whole way.

The house was a little shabby but homely. It screams ‘bachelor pad’ in more ways than one. The grass was trimmed, but the flowerbeds neglected. The BBQ was greasy with use and left out in the open. The house was tidy but nowhere near clean. The old décor was most likely remnant of Mrs. Stilinski, and the boys don’t dare change it.

Stiles was running out of the door, tripping down the steps when he saw you. “(Y/N)! You came.”

You nod, hands in your jean pockets, “I wanted to see the damage.”

The jeep was in the driveway, towed there the night of the school attack. The hood was laying on the concrete and completely smashed in.

Stiles jogs up to you and looks about ready to give you a hug, but you keep your arms down as a signal. He scratches at the back of his head instead.

“I just picked up a new hood from the junkyard. And my dad helped me buy a new battery.”

“What happened to the old one again?” you look inside the engine and see more duct tape than rubber tubes. “Do you usually fix this guy up yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles had a funny look on his face, hands on his hips, “It’s cheaper that way. When I hit the school sign it crushed the battery box. It needed to be fully replaced.”

You give him a side eye, “You hit the school sign?”

“I was in a hurry to escape, okay,” he says exasperated, throwing his arms down limp at his sides. He was always lanky and fidgety. “I have spray paint in the garage for the new hood.” He looks at you with a hesitant gaze, “Do you want to help?”

You fold your arms, trying to hide a smile. “Do you have a tarp for the paint?”

“Why would I need a tarp?”

A small laugh escapes you, “Your dad will thank me later. Come on.”

The pair of you lay an old blue tarp down and set the junkyard hood on it. You convince Stiles to sand the metal and prime it before the paint. Thankfully the jungle that was the garage held nearly all the equipment you needed.

“I think it’s funny you have the exact shade of blue you need for your jeep,” you say, shaking your head. “Makes me think you need to touch it up more often than not.”

“If you’re making some kind of assumption about my driving skills, you’re wrong. I happen to be an excellent driver.”

You shake the spray paint can, ready for last touchups, “Anyone is an excellent driver when they’re the only driver in the friend group.”

“Excuse me?” he says with mock offense, screwing his face up comically.

“You’re not exactly comparing your skills to Scott and me since we don’t have cars,” and in a moment of weakness you point the can towards Stiles.

“Hey, woah!” he held up his hands, getting a blast of blue paint on his palms and fingers. “Mayday! Mayday! Paint in mouth!”

You start laughing, shaking the can some more as Stiles spits at the grass. His hands and forearms were coated in shiny, dripping paint.

“Now you’re in for it.”

He ran at you, hands outstretched. You didn’t fight it much as you squeal at the cold wet paint. He hugs you from behind and starts rubbing his hands all down your sides and front, coating your arms and shirt.

He was careful to avoid your chest. “There, now we’re both a masterpiece.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, out of breath from your giggles. You raise a coated finger to his rosy cheek and write your initials, “There. An artist always signs their work.”

He blows out a choking breath, shivers prickling the back of his neck. He has to clear his throat before doing the same to you, raising a long finger to your cheek. A double ‘s’ is painted along your cheekbone, beneath your sparkling eyes.

“Should we put the battery in while the paint dries?” you were closer than you thought, just inches between you. You could have sworn Stiles flickers his eyes down to your lips, no doubt smeared with paint.

“S-Sure,” he stutters, wiping at his nose, “It’s right over here.”

You help lift the heavy black box and slide it into the car. You giggle at the blue handprints all over the battery sides.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get a wet rag.”

“No!” Stiles grabs your arm, “I like it. Let’s let it dry. Our signature touch.”

You look at your handprint on the top and Stiles’ on the side below yours. “Whatever you want, Stilinski. This is your jeep.”

“Damn right,” he mumbles, connecting wires, “This baby needs to last me through college.”

The duct tape didn’t look very promising, but you had to admire his persistence. “I’ll get the topcoat ready then.”

It took another hour to get the hood ready for screwing in. You help with holding tools and holding pieces in place. Stiles makes sarcastic remarks and tries not to swear when he pinches a finger. You laugh at his jokes and ignore the unevenness of your heart rate.

When the hood was in place and the spray paint on your skin dry and cracking, the pair of you walk inside for some lemonade.

Stiles keeps staring at his initials on your cheek. “Thank you for helping me. It wouldn’t have turned out half as good without you.”

“It was fun,” you nod, a hand to your chest. A pain was flaring there. You try to breathe past the tightness, “I think I need… I need a second.” Your watch beeps the exact same time as Stiles’ phone.

You share a confused glance with the boy as he blabs, “I can explain!”

“One second,” you say, leaning forward and closing your eyes. You nearly collapse in a dining chair, and a moment later you feel large hands on your knees, squeezing gently.

“Try to ground yourself,” he whispers to you, “Remember… what do you hear?”

It takes you longer to answer, holding your chest like it’ll keep your heart there. “The refrigerator running. Birds outside. And your heavy breathing.” You crack a smile despite the frantic fluttering in your chest.

Stiles scoffs, “And what do you feel?”

“My heartbeat,” you put your free hand on top of Stiles’, curling your fingers around his. “Your hand. And the cracking spray paint.” It was getting easier to breathe.

Stiles was rubbing his thumb along the inside of your knee. His own chest was inflating again, that powerful warmth that only happened when he was near you. His throat bobs as heat floods his cheeks – thankfully he was covered in spray paint.

He checks your watch screen as your heart rate went down, “That’s it.”

“Thanks,” you say, letting go of his fingers. He pulls his hands away quickly after that. “I think I should head home and shower. All this paint is making my skin itch now.”

He laughs awkwardly, standing, “Well, uh… you could always, you know… shower here.” His eyes widen and he starts to ramble on further as if to stop you from saying no, “I mean, I have extra clothes and I was planning on taking Scott out tonight to get his mind off the breakup. You could stay and we could all go together?”

You let the silence go on just for your own amusement. He was practically shaking waiting for your answer. “Sure, that’d be great.”

“Yay… I mean, yeah sure – cool cool.” He gestures to the stairs and leads the way, “There’s everything you need in the bathroom. I’ll just… jeans probably won’t fit, and I don’t believe in shorts…”

“Sweatpants are fine,” you say, enjoying every second of his rambling.

“Right, good,” he was pinching the ends of his shaved hair. You wonder if he was one to run his fingers through his hair when it was long. “I assume you don’t need boxers…” he chokes on his laugh, probably thinking about you in that very item of clothing. “But I’ll get you a shirt and a towel. Wait right here.”

You spy into the hallway bathroom and giggle at the few items of clothing strewn about the floor. A toothbrush was thrown onto the counter and leaving white, foamy scum on the counter. A deodorant stick was open and toppled over. A 2-in-1 shampoo was leaking in the shower. Overall, about as much as you expected.

“Oh god,” Stiles yells, spotting the same things you were, “I’m so sorry. It’s such a mess in here.” He starts to bang against the walls, picking up clothes and fallen toiletries along the way. “Clearly I wasn’t expecting company.” He steps on a sleeve and trips to the floor in a colossal crash.

You stifle a laugh as you bend to help him up, “So you really didn’t expect me to show up, huh?”

His cheeks were a blotchy red, a terrible sinking pit in his stomach. “It’s a wonder you haven’t run out of here the first chance you got.” His arms were full of clothes and a sneaker and a couple stiff washcloths that you didn’t want to think about.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you smile at his red face – the picture of embarrassment. He was so endearing in the sweetest way. The spray paint was starting to chip from his skin and flake onto the clothes he was holding. “I like you this way.”

Stiles figures he better leave before he does anything else stupid. “I’m going to use… my d-dad’s bathroom downstairs.” He fumbles the sneaker but catches it by the laces. “I’ll be super quick, so you have all the hot water.”

You nod, closing the door on his bright blotchy face. You step into the shower, not planning to use up the hot water either, and investigate any other hygiene products. The 2-in-1 must have been used as a body wash and face wash as well because there was nothing else to be seen. Shaking your head you use the bottle to clean all the spray paint off your body.

You had to scrub your skin raw, but the blue finally came off. You were quick to realize that the woods smell that Stiles usually had came from this shampoo. It was mixed with the strong scent of tea tree oil. At least the Sheriff knew a thing or two about antibacterial soap and how much a lacrosse player needed it.

The mirror wasn’t even fogged up with steam when you step out. You found the pile of clothes Stiles brought before he fumbled with cleaning.

Some dark sweatpants and a gray t-shirt with a star wars logo on the front. He even threw in a green and blue flannel to keep your arms warm when they went to get Scott.

You thread your fingers through your wet hair, carrying your ruined day clothes over your shoulder. Down the stairs you find Stiles making sandwiches in the kitchen. His shirt was a little damp from the shower, and he had goosebumps running up his arms.

“You look cold,” you say, sauntering in and catching the sweatpants before they fell a few inches. You tie the strings to make them tighter around your waist and find Stiles staring at you slack jawed.

“Um… uh – yeah. Sure, maybe a little.” He shrugs repeatedly as if that would calm the tension he was feeling.

You lean against the counter, watching him avoid your gaze, “Did you take a cold shower?”

“What – I like them!”

“No one likes them,” you scoff, “There was enough time for us both to shower fine.”

He stuck out his bottom lip, tilting his head to a shoulder, “I just wanted to make sure you had enough hot water.” Before you could make any other retort, he says in a louder voice, “I figured we could eat something and then pick up Scott.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, watching him work. It seems he wanted to busy himself, so he didn’t get caught staring at you again.

“Have you talked with Andrew at all since him babysitting you?”

You wince at the word ‘babysit.’ “We’ve been texting a little bit. I’m waiting for him to tell me when our date will be.”

“So he did ask you out.” Stiles cut his tomato with a little more force than was necessary.

“I guess, maybe,” you smile, feeling a little rosy in the cheeks.

Stiles sees the sudden flush and he flexes his jaw. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I mean – Andrew is actually a good guy compared to most of the boys at school.”

“Ah – shit!” Stiles drops his knife and holds his index finger.

You round the counter, “Are you okay?”

He waves you off, going for a band aid in a cupboard, “It’s fine, blood is red, tomatoes are red… no harm done.”

You laugh, snatching the band aid from him, “Let me see that.” You peel back the plastic and pull his hand towards your face.

He’s obviously upset about something, but that didn’t stop the red splotches from reappearing on his face. His long fingers were shaking slightly – from Adderall or his usual fidgets, you weren’t sure – but he was standing still as you gently apply the bandage.

You’re soft as you wrap the adhesive sides and push down to keep it stuck to the tip of his finger. “There,” you lean down and place a little kiss on the bandage, “All better.”

Stiles huffs an awkward laugh, almost shaken by your make-it-better kiss. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says testily, making the sandwiches a little more roughly than before.

You squint your eyes, upset that he was holding back. “Are you going to give me a ‘you-shouldn’t-date-him’ speech like you did with Josh Arnett?”

Stiles takes a deep breath through his nose, and it seems to calm him enough to say in an even tone, “Like you said, Andrew is a good guy. He’d be lucky to date you.”

The sincerity in his voice put a little hitch in your chest, and you had to remember that he had access to your heartbeat.

“Moving on,” you say quickly, “Are you going to tell me how you got ahold of my heart monitor?”

Stiles plates the sandwiches and goes for a couple bags of chips in the pantry. He was stuttering the whole way and came back a little pink. “After the video store and I… stayed the night. I – couldn’t sleep. After a couple hours and me trying to read your latest Harry Potter book…”

“You can’t start reading the series on the sixth one, dummy.”

He waves you off, presenting you with dinner. “You turned over in your sleep… and your hand was – was resting on my arm; the hand that had your watch.” He takes a big bite of his sandwich and rushes through the rest, “It turned on when your heart rate went up a little bit in your sleep and I thought… it would m-make sense to share that monitor with other people so they can take care of you in an emergency.”

You quietly eat your meal as you listen, a warmth in your stomach at feeling looked after and cared about. Stiles took it upon himself to help you and strangely… you didn’t mind it like you did when it came to your parents.

“Your watch doesn’t have a password on it so…”

“My parents thought it’d be easier if someone needed to access my heart monitor app if I fainted.”

He nods, “So I opened it while you were asleep and connected my phone to the app.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” you say softly, watching him with that warmth you were feeling. It was comforting and you realize how comfortable you felt around Stiles – especially when talking about something so personal to you.

“I was afraid you’d be all stoic and say you’re fine,” he smirks at you, “And that you can take care of yourself.”

You shake your head and huff a laugh, “Smart man.”

The two of you share a few more laughs before Stiles goes on to apologize again, “I’m sorry this isn’t the greatest meal. I’m no chef (Y/N).” He waves his hands around as he says it, “But…”

“It’s good,” you say, smiling. “I don’t like to cook all the time.”

You get off topic as you continue to eat. You discuss your science project and the upcoming chemistry test on Monday. Stiles tells you the made up story about what happened at the school. You ask more questions about Derek. Sherrif Stilinski had contacted state police to handle a possible serial killer. School had been closed Thursday and Friday to deal with the damages, so you hadn’t missed classes while being sick.

The sun starts to set as Stiles cleans your plates. “There is one more thing about tonight that I forgot to mention.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in, “What do girls usually do during breakups?”

“Well, Allison, Lydia, and I had a night of crying as we watched The Notebook and Titanic. We ordered takeout and ranted about every stupid thing a boy has ever done to us. We ate chocolate and contemplated possibly being alone forever. And then we passed out after doing our hair and giving each other facials.”

Stiles was not expecting that, “You did all of that in one night?”

“Hence why we passed out at three in the morning.”

He shakes his head, “Well for Scott… we’re going to get him drunk.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

“We’re going to get drunk and make sure he has a good time.”

“Cause no one has ever been considered a sad drunk before.”

He gives you a deadpan stare. It makes you giggle – he was so open with his facial expressions.

“I just want to take his mind off of it.”

You consider him, “Where are we going to get alcohol?”

Stiles holds up a finger and goes to rummage in a side cabinet near the dining table. He returns with a full bottle of Jack Daniels. You smile to see the comparison you had made multiple times. Stiles’ eyes were sometimes like sunshine through whiskey.

He took your smile as a good sign, “You up for it?”

~~~

You and Stiles were leading the way past the park entrance and onto a cliff face with Scott trailing behind. The moon was out and very nearly full, shining a perfect light around the outcrop.

The ground was uneven and layered with rock, sparse pine trees growing between the cracks. There was a bonfire barrel just ahead that Stiles went to light.

“Where are we going?” Scott grumbles.

He was looking a little worse for wear. After your night of girl talk and general anguish, Allison seemed to be faring better. It was strange to see how each party handled the breakup.

“Cause we really shouldn’t be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school.”

Stiles sighs, “Well, your mom isn’t the sheriff, okay? There’s no comparison, trust me.”

“It’ll be fine, Scott,” you say, “It’s been quiet since Wednesday.”

Your friend was over it. “Can you at least just tell me what we’re doing out here?”

“Yes. When your best friend gets dumped…”

“I didn’t get dumped,” Scott butts in, “We’re taking a break.” He looks to you as if asking you to prove it.

You shrug, breathing in the cold air and swinging your arms in the too-long sleeves of Stiles’ flannel. “She’s pretty decided.” It was Scott’s fault after all that Allison made the decision. “She’s already given you a second chance.”

“Not helping!” Stiles snaps, “When your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they’re taking a break…” Stiles stops walking next to the bonfire barrel, moon shining right above his head. “You get your best friend drunk.”

He holds up the bottle of amber, proud of himself for taking it from his father’s stash.

Scott sighs but doesn’t fight it. He was more interested in talking to you about the situation, which tells you how he really wants to handle the breakup. While Stiles works on lighting a fire in the barrel, you sit on a rock and pat the spot next to you for Scott.

He slumps down as if his body is heavier than usual. “Thank you for being here.”

You lean into him a little. It was cold and his body was warm. “I’ll always be here for my friends.”

“I mean, especially since you’re one of Allison’s best friends too.” His voice lowers when he says her name, like it was painful.

“Of course, I’m not picking sides, Scott. I have my girls… and I have my boys.” You wrap an arm around his shoulders and squeeze him to you. Your head lays on his shoulder, and you could almost feel the hurt he was feeling. It wasn’t as teary as Allison’s, but it was still very plain to see.

He takes a deep breath and stares out past the cliff at the rest of the forest below. It was almost like the moon was putting him in an even worse mood.

“Has she…”

“No,” you cut him off. “We had our night talking about it and she hasn’t brought it up since. But it’s only been a few days and you know Lydia is trying to swear her off of boys for a while.”

Scott nods, sinking into you a little more. “What do you think about it?”

You rub his shoulders a little, “I think what you did was done out of fear and anger, but it was still very stupid.” You feel him swallow thickly, “You shouldn’t have taken it out on her.”

He hangs his head, moving his hands up to hold his face. “I know.”

“If I’m being completely honest though… it’s going to be hard for her to get over you.” You lean closer to talk quietly as Stiles whoops at his roaring fire from behind. “Just give it some time to settle and try to apologize again. Try to give her more of a reason why you acted that way and she’ll understand. She’s very understanding if you don’t hold the truth from her.”

Scott turns his head sideways in one hand and looks at you with glassy eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to cry, but he was heartened to hear your words.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You nudge him around a little, “Anytime.”

Stiles jumps off another large rock and lands with the bottle in his hands, already taking a swig, “Let’s party!”

Scott grumbles again but takes a couple gulps of the bottle before handing it to you. As you raise the rim to your lips, Stiles starts shouting.

“Hey, hey! You’re not supposed to be drinking that.”

You take a big swallow, the burning liquid stinging your throat as it goes down to warm your churning belly. “Because why?”

“Because alcohol can increase arrhythmias,” he says matter-of-factly, “I read that in my… research.”

You shrug, taking another gulp, blowing out a breath as if it were on fire. “Hasn’t stopped me before.” You mock the boys’ shocked silence with a muttered, “You’re not the only one that has stolen a drink from your parents liquor cabinet.”

Stiles still looks worried as you hand the bottle back, “Make sure you check your watch.”

“You have that on your phone now,” you stretch back, leaning on your hands, “You can worry about it.”

Scott gave half a smile, “You found out about that?”

“He hadn’t exactly hidden it well,” you giggle, already rosy from the alcohol.

You and Stiles continue to share the bottle, laughing at each other as you tell Scott about your day. You mock the state of the blue jeep while Stiles makes fun of your little crush on Andrew Wickstrom. You whisper (basically shout) about the old washcloths found in the bathroom while Stiles splutters his next swig all over the ground. And you finally laugh about how any of you were to take chemistry tests seriously when the school has been in disarray.

Scott stops drinking after his few sips and continues to stare off into the distance, hurting as he watches you and Stiles fall over each other on the ground. Stiles slams the bottle down with a tink of the glass and you shush him.

“You’ll break it,” you slur, words feeling funny in your mouth. You fall back and hit your head on the rock Scott was sitting on still. “Ow!”

Stiles rolls over from where he was laying and cups your head, pulling it from the rock, “Oh no…” he sounds just as drunk, “Did you get an owie?”

You rub at the slight egg forming on the back of your head, “The rock decided to punch me.”

“I’m sorry,” and he kisses your hairline, “There, all better.”

You laugh like that was the funniest thing in the world, “You gave me a make-it-better kiss!”

“I learned from the best,” he let your head go and you both fell onto your backs, laughing.

Scott closes his eyes and takes a shallow breath, tense from his friends having a flirty experience without them realizing it. He ignores as Stiles lifts his bandaged index finger and declares how “(Y/N)’s make-it-better kisses could cure cancer.”

You look up, laughing at that, and notice Scott folding his arms to keep the cold away. “Oh no…” you lean to whisper (again – basically shout) at Stiles, “He’s thinking about her again.”

“Dude, you know she’s just one… one girl. You know, there are so many… there are so many other girls in the sea.”

“Fish in the sea,” Scott corrects.

You gasp, “I should make a shrimp scampi.”

“Shrimp are not fish,” Stiles giggles, “Why are we talking about fish? I’m talking about girls.” His voice gets quieter, “I love girls. I love them.” He stares off at the moonlit sky while you try to contain your laughter, cheeks blooming red.

You tap out, refusing more drink but still overly drunk. Instead you wrap a hand around Scott’s ankle as if that was still giving him silent support.

“I love…” Stiles continues to ramble, “Especially ones that are super smart and like true crime and books and… and can cook super well and have a history of serious heart conditions.”

“Like (Y/N)?”

You lift your head but decided the motion was going to make you sick.

“Like who?” Stiles mutters before smiling wide, “Like whom? What was I talking about?” He looks up to see Scott brooding over his crossed arms, “Hey, you’re not happy. Take a drink.”

“I don’t want any more,” Scott says.

“You’re not drunk?” Stiles asks, only to hear you fall into giggles again.

You lean your head towards him, “I’m drunk.” You still had one hand on Scott, running your fingers weirdly around his ankle in an absentminded gesture. Scott didn’t care – he still found it somewhat comforting to have you there.

“Hey, maybe it’s like… maybe it’s like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know.”

You tug on his pants leg, “You used to need an inhaler?” You were starting to sound sleepy.

“Maybe you can’t get drunk as a wolf.”

Scott picked up a pebble and threw it at Stiles’ face.

“Hey! What the hell…” he rubs at his face harshly, throwing his arms out afterwards. One of his arms lands across yours. “Come on man, I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don’t know,” he chuckles, his fingers subconsciously finding the skin of your wrist just under the flannel sleeve. They’re light and lazy as they trail up your wrist and down to your palm.

You hardly react, too drunk to really care. “I don’t really know either. Never had anything past a situationship before. They always leave when things get too serious.” You shiver, tickled by Stiles’ fingers. “They get all scared about me dying.”

Stiles rolls his head around the rocks he’s laying on, too far gone to really register what you’re saying, “I do know this though! I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse.” He laughs quietly, “That didn’t make any sense.”

His long fingers were overtaking the space of your hand now, tracing the skin there as he drifts off. Scott was staring at the two of you with mixed emotions, that is until a mystery guest appears to steal your bottle of whiskey.

“Well,” a sinister older looking boy says, “Look at the little bitches getting their drink on.”

Scott sets his face in cool indifference, “Give it back.”

Stiles’ fingers are no longer light and lazy – they grip your hand and pull you closer to him, half sitting up as he tries to clear his head. You hardly register the movement of your hand, only the distant panic starting to rise in your throat at the newcomers.

“What’s that, little man?” the guy had to be a senior or even a freshman in college.

Another guy of similar age was just behind him, “I think he wants a drink.”

Stiles was trying to stand up, “Scott, maybe we should just go.”

“Woah, woah – wait a minute,” the first guy whistles, “The party is just starting.” He eyes you down, “What’s your name, baby?”

You swallow hard, “We were just leaving.” Your head was terribly clearer now as a thrill of fear went down your spine. You try to stand too, “Enjoy the drink.”

“Oh, we will,” the guy says, approaching your standing figure, “But only if you enjoy it with us.”

“Hey, back off man,” Stiles says, wobbly as he holds onto you, “We don’t want any trouble.”

The guy goes for your free arm, slow but tight in how he grabs you, “You don’t want to spend the night with these losers. We can show you a better time.”

“Let go of me,” you say fiercely, but fear was shining in your eyes.

Stiles starts rambling off sentences of retort, pulling on you and pushing the guy away. Until you were yanked sharply, and a squeal escapes you.

All bets were off after that.

Stiles throws his drunken arms towards the guy, eventually punching him on the jawline closer to his ear. Scott, his eyes gleaming a strange yellow light, grabs the bottle of jack from the senior’s hand and throws it with incredible speed against a faraway tree.

His voice is deep and strange as he says, “Get out of here.”

And the two guys run off back towards the woods, passing the tree now drenched in whiskey and glass.

Your teeth were chattering, heartbeat rapid, and a look of fear plastered to your wide eyes. Stiles was shaking your shoulders, “You okay?” Then he pulls you into his embrace, guiding your head to rest under his chin, “You’re okay.” He rubs up and down your arm as he watches Scott stomp away towards the jeep.

“Hey, woah – Scott!” he holds you to him, kind of like a support for both your drunken bodies, but you’re grateful for the warmth his body provides as you head for the parking lot again.

Scott drives you all home, angry as he watches you sleepily lay in Stiles’ arms. The fidgety, sarcastic boy was slumped against the door and had his arms wrapped around you, snoring and completely unaware of how lucky he was.

He was going to lose his mind when he wakes up and doesn’t remember it all very well.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I have read through all of your harry metas and I love them!!! And it made me wonder whether you had any personal head-cannons regarding him? Like any unpopular ones that are not mentioned in the books or discussed by the fandom. I found only a precious few posts regarding this matter, so yeah I would like to know yours if u do have any.

Hi, thank you so much! 💕

Honestly, I'm pretty sure I just sprinkled Harry headcanons throughout my various posts but I'll try to comprise a list of some of my headcanons that popped into my head here. As such, these are all my random headcanons about Harry, some have more reasoning behind them than others. So, here are some of them in no particular order:

1. I think Harry is gay (could be demi but I don't think he's interested in women and he is interested in men. Personally, I headcanon him as gay).

I have a whole post about it here, but I don't know how common of an opinion it is since I see mostly bi Harry and not gay ones.

2. I see some fanon Harry's portrayed as very small, but I don't think he is. In my head, he's about 5'11 (by book 7) and in canon, he can lift Mundungus by the throat with one hand so... I think he's pretty fit actually. (Though he's very thin due to malnourishment). He's just always compared to Ron, who is like, ridiculously tall. I also think he was short for his age up until and including book 4. Between books 4 and 5 is when he had his first real growth spurt.

3. I think he was born Master of Death and that a lot of his miraculous survivals are because of that.

4. Harry has ADHD. It's my way to explain his tendency to be very observant of some things and not others, his crazy good selective memory, and his tendency to fail when he starts overthinking. Idk, I have ADHD and I'm getting these vibes from him (or projecting, who knows).

5. In my head, the epilogue isn't canon, so Harry breaks the curse on the DADA position, like, 5 years after the war, and starts teaching it. Until then, McGonagall just made sure to hire teachers only with one year contracts.

6. I headcanon the Potter family had more estate than just the cottage in Godric's Hollow and Harry finds out about them at some point after the war. I mean, they are reasonably rich, have a Wizengamot seat, and had more family members until very recently. They have to have more houses.

7. I think Harry and Kreature actually become friends after the books. I think they could've during the books too, Harry finds Kreature's sense of humor funny even as back as OotP:

“. . . Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she’s no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress’s house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they’ve let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. . . .” “Hello, Kreacher,” said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise. “Kreacher did not see Young Master,” he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, “Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is.” “Sorry?” said George. “Didn’t catch that last bit.” “Kreacher said nothing,” said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, “and there’s its twin, unnatural little beasts they are.” Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

(OotP, 107-108)

I just see a lot of sassy potential in their dynamic.

8. Before he was hit with the killing curse, he and Lily had the same eye color, a deep, bright green. After Halloween 1981, Harry's eyes are always the shade of the killing curse, which is similar to before, just slightly lighter and brighter. It's barely noticeable unless in certain lighting, but Sirius was sure he was hallucinating from exhaustion on a few nights in Grimmauld Place where he looked at Harry, and his eyes shined just a little off, a little too brightly, the wrong color for just a moment.

9. He had at least 1 too sexy dream about Tom Riddle, and he never told and never will tell anyone if it's up to him. He tries to pretend it didn't happen tbh.

10. Same as number 9 about Sirius, honestly...

11. His animagus form would be a Raven. (Although I can see a few other forms as possible as well)

12. Sometimes, when I draw Harry, I add a little white streak of hair from his scar because I think it looks cool. Also, white hair and death connotation, so, yeah. I'd like to think that the white tuft became larger after he died and came back in the forest.

13. I usually imagine his scar going down through his eyebrow to around his right eye, basically I like it when Harry is very obviously and clearly marked by the killing curse. Unfortunately, canon contradicts this by him being able to cover the scar with his hair, and Snatchers in Deathly Hollows believed him to not be Harry Potter when he made shit up, so the scar probably isn't that noticeable. I'd like to think it is larger with very few lines going below his forehead, and just very very pale and almost invisible when Tom isn't angry over something.

14. He's short-sighted. Aka, his glasses are for looking at things far away, and if he wants to read, he can do so without the glasses, assuming he's holding the page close enough to his face. Actually, contrary to fanon opinion, I think Harry can see without his glasses, it's just really hazy, but if you stand close enough he would recognize you without his glasses. His sight isn't that bad.

15. I think throughout the series, his wardrobe slowly becomes more wizardy (and it could be really cool to implement something like that in the TV show). Basically, in year 1, he's always wearing his school robes over Dudley's muggle clothes, but through the years, he ends up buying random wizard clothing artifacts. So, in later years, he occasionally wore jeans under his robes, but sometimes he wore wizarding shirts. Sometimes, in books like 4 or 5, he could wear muggle sneakers with a casual wizarding robe on the weekend. Like, idk, I like the idea of this gradual change in his wardrobe and by book 7 when they are actively on the run from the ministry he's finally really looking the part of a wizard, but he isn't part of their society because of the war. Like, I just like this arc to his fashion that I made up in my head.

16. The one thing I might agree with the epilogue on in my headcanoned future, is that Harry declines going back for 8th year. Except in my head, he doesn't immediately go to Auror training, instead, he tries to take some time to figure his life out after everything, realizes he wants to go back to Hogwarts and that he doesn't know how to just sit down after 17 years of running on adrenalin and he ends up returning to the optional 8th year like 3 months late.

17. Harry's patronus is never going to change. He isn't going to allow that piece of his father to die, so I don't think it would change.

18. Like what I mentioned above about his eyes being just slightly off from Lily's eye color, I think his resemblance to James is like that too (and the books support me on this). In SWM Harry mentions how James has a longer nose than him and a different eye shape, and I think if you looked closely at James and Harry side by side, you'll see more and more of these differences. They look the same when you don't think about it, but once you look, they don't look like carbon copies of each other at all. I think Harry has James' eyebrows and jaw structure though.

19. For some reason, I headcanon Harry was born on the evening. Like, around 7 or 8. I really don't know why.

20. Harry doesn't know it, but he is attractive. I mean, I'm not sure I mentioned it, but girls in books 5 and 6 start looking at him, and sure, he is the Boy-Who-Lived, but if he wasn't attractive there wouldn't be that many attempts to dose him with love potion. Also, he is the son of James and Lily, so the potential there is high.

21. I'd like to think he keeps the ability to speak Parseltongue even after Voldemort dies and the Horcrux is gone. I like to think the Horcrux wasn't the only reason he could speak it. Like, in my headcanon, Lily is a descendant from a Gaunt family squib line and that's why Voldy's soul triggered the Parseltongue gene that was already there. So, in my version of the books in my head, Harry could still speak it even after book 7.

Like, these are the ones I could think of off the top of my head.

[missmielyhoran]

Housemate

in which Y/N finds a cheap place to live...

(Werewolf!Harry × Florist!reader)

Masterlist

*****

Moving out was a hard task and harder than that was finding a place to live.

You thought packing your bags and moving out of your parents' house after one bad fight was some kind of badass move, but it came to bite you in the ass.

You were living in your best friend's apartment, but she herself was moving in with her boyfriend, and the apartment was already bought by the next owners, and you only had two days left.

Most of the places you saw were either too expensive, too shady, or too far from your shop.

Losing all hope, you sat down on the bench in the park and ate your burrito. Tears of frustration and anger were pricking in your eyes when a piece of paper flew straight on your face and stuck to it.

You removed it from your face groaning. The first thing you saw was 'housemate needed' in bold letters, and like fate pulling you in, you walked straight to the address, forgetting all about your burrito.

*****

Harry was in desperate need of a roommate. Someone would think being who he is, he wouldn't have to worry about bills and shit but it was a modern world, even his dad had to go to work.

His work pay wasn't cutting it, though. He was struggling to pay his bills and still have some money left for food and stuff or in his savings. Then Niall suggested getting a roommate like he did. The idea would have been great if he was a normal human being, but he wasn't. He was a walking danger.

A blaring warning signal on legs was who he was.

His house was beautiful if he said so himself. It was a decent size, two rooms, and a bathroom with an open kitchen-living room plan. Most of the walls decorated with pastels. Living room walls were baby blue but a specific shade he loved with loads of plants.

No one wanted to live near the forest, which was the problem. His house of near forest (for obvious reasons) and most of the people living there were either like him or old people who just wanted to live off their days in peace.

He had just plopped himself down on his couch when the bell rang. He stood up straight, something about whoever it was on the door made his senses perk up. He fixed his jeans and patchwork cardigan he made himself. Harry walked towards the door, the unknown feeling growing and growing.

He calmed and took a deep breath before opening the door. But when he did, he forgot how to breathe. There you were in a cute little yellow sundress with black boots and the biggest smile showing your dimple on the left cheek.

"Hi" You said like a bird in some disney movie. You looked like a disney character with big almost animated looking eyes, curly hair tied up in a half up do.

"Hi" He mumbled shyly and welcomed you in. He wasn't very outgoing but in front of you he felt different. It was like he was a teenager again interacting with crush for the first time.

He really hoped you would agree to live here cause he didn't know if he could let you go.

"I saw the ad for a housemate? I honestly didn't know flyers were still a thing you know cause of Craigslist and stuff. " You laughed lightly while Harry's face went red.

"My friend suggested I should get another person here cause of expenses, and I'm not good with the internet, so I did what I knew," He said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He grew up different from the others, and he also didn't like social media, to be honest.

He was basically a grandma in 25 years old boy's body, as Niall says.

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that." Your eyes widened, thinking you had made him feel bad. The walking around the whole area has gotten you tired and maybe a grumpy, "Oh my god, I'm sorry"

That made him laugh, showing off the deep dimples on both sides of his cheeks, his eyes crinkling. He looked like a squished grape, but in a cute way, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and hold his face for entern-

Woah there calm down.

"I like this place a lot," you said, turning away before you could do something embarrassing.

"I will show you around," He said, walking in front of you. It was a small house with a small entryway with a shoerack and medium-sized mirror. The living room was blue with loads of plants and a yellow couch with a matching love seat, giving it a pop of colour. The kitchen was also blue with white cupboards, an island facing the back o the couch.

There were two doors, one of which you guessed was Harry's room and other yours. "This is my room" He said opening the room, it was everything you expected, white walls with a blue accent wall, crumbled white sheets on bed in middle of the room, a desk near the window and loads of plants.

"Blue is your favorite I take," you teased, watching him smile shyly and mumble a yeah.

Then we got to the other room, it was sage green with an old couch in the middle and that was it. It was a decent size enough for you. There was a window just like in his. It was identical to most.

"So...do you like it?" Harry trailed off. He was anxiously looking at you trying to figure out if you liked it or not.

"I love it!" You gave him a big smile and walked in more to look around. The whole house had a musky smile, like soil after rain, foresty, and you were in love.

"I might have to tell you I might steal your clothes cause they look good and comfy." You teased him and gave a cheeky laugh.

Harry was about to jump in happiness like a puppy getting asked if he wanted a treat, and in a way, it was.

"You can take whatever you want." He smiled, and you there it was the urge to just pinch his cheeks, and this time you gave in.

You extened your hand and gave him a soft pinch on cheek, "You're soo cut-" You cut off your sentence and removed your hand. It felt like an electric shock went through when you touched him.

Harry felt it too, a lot harder than you. His eyes were matching his, wide in shock. You didn't know what it meant, and neither did Harry, but it wasn't something normal, and neither was them being so undeniably pulled towards each other.

"I never got your name," Harry asked in hushed in voice, your eyes on his emerald ones.

"Y/N," you replied in the same voice, not wanting to break the moment. Harry smiled, thinking how your name suited you a lot.

"Welcome to Lone Cottage, Y/N"

*****

Here is my soft puppy boy, istg i love him sm

Taglist- @indierockgirrl @gotthecinema @matildasatellite

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You can talk to me or send me feedbacks here♡

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

*** 

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?" 

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail." 

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up. 

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes. 

***  

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity." 

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments. 

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

*** 

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public. 

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of  beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table." 

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole. 

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

***  The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it. 

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent? 

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime.  You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you. 

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow  :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up. 

"You're leaving already?" 

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer. 

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one. 

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer." 

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue. 

"No, I don't play." 

"Come on, let me teach you." 

"Really? And how will you do that?" 

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand. 

"It went in!" 

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette. 

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?" 

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?" 

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's." 

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face. 

*** 

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry. 

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well. 

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air. 

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side. 

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

[calmlyerratic]

Encounters of the Future Sort

Chapter 2: The Battle of the Moldy Fruit

by @calmlyerratic

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Ch Summary: AU time travel. It's suddenly April 1st 1996, but the Marauders, Lily, and Severus don't know it yet…

chapter wc: 2.8k — rating: T — cw: none

Read Chapter 1 | full Story Summary & Chapter Index

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April 1st, 1996

"So, what should we do now?" Sirius asked, hands behind his head, strolling at a leisurely pace as if he hadn't a care in the world and exploding cauldrons was an everyday occurrence.

"I dunno…we could go swimming?" James shrugged, also effortlessly carrying this unphased energy.

Remus glanced out a passing stained-glass window. "Er—I don't think it's exactly swimming weather."

"Oh c'mon, an ice-cold squid dip is good for the psyche, Moony." James grinned. "We do it after every practice—helps with aches and pains too."

"Good for the psychotic, maybe." Remus mumbled, tracing the long scar across his nose. He had a habit of doing this when reminded of uncomfortable physical activity. "But that's not what I meant. Look outside."

James knit his brow. "What are you on about—oh." Raindrops were streaking down the stained glass in a spectrum of rainbow colors. "Strange. It was sunny just this morning…"

Sirius leaned in and pressed his forehead to the glass. The sky was dark, and rain was pouring from the clouds in biblical proportions, giving the impression it had been raining for hours.

"A bit chilly for swimming anyway," Sirius shrugged as if he were a sentient being that could snap his fingers and produce sunshine at will.

"It does seem odd…" Peter considered. "Must've come on suddenly?"

"Breaking news: the channel 5 weather report with Wormtail," Remus rolled his eyes.

"I think Moony's hungry," Sirius smirked. "He's reverted to eccentric Muggle references. We missed lunch—perhaps a trip to the kitchens?"

"Or we could go to Hogsmead," Peter squeaked, "grab a butterbeer?"

"Sorry, Pete…" Remus sighed. "Yeah, I could actually go for that right now."

"Nah," Sirius brushed away the possibility like a piece of lint on his shoulder. "As much as I enjoy seeing Moony tipsy, I hate smelling like wet dog."

"I have a bit of firewhiskey stashed away…" James eyes circled upwards, deviously.

Sirius stopped in his tracks. "You bloody git—I just asked you last week!"

"I was saving it for a special occasion," James shrugged innocently.

Sirius threw his shoulders back in pompous authority. "How dare you—I am a special occasion."

"Moony needs to blow off some steam," James clasped Remus on the shoulder. "That is a special occasion."

Sirius locked eyes with Remus. The former suppressed a grin and the latter flushed.

"Right you are, Prongs." Sirius nodded solemnly. "A special occasion indeed, let's see to it. To the dormitory!"

They were passing through a long corridor outside of the Charms classroom where a few students were gathered. A first year boy spotted them, and his jaw dropped.

"So, is it the same stuff as last time? That was delicious—"

"Hey, Prongs…" Peter whispered, noting the first year. "That kid is staring at you."

"Huh?" James' head whipped around.

The gaping first year with sandy blonde hair quickly hid his face in a book.

James, who had a head far too large for his shoulders, rather enjoyed admirers. After he'd scored 110 points in the last quidditch match against Slytherin, he'd become something of a celebrity to young, aspiring players among the houses. This fame had petered away since the new year, but he was still yearning for any opportunity that presented itself to relive this fleeting glory.

"Hello there," James approached him and grinned quite pompously.

The boy turned a deep shade of red and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Er—did you want my autograph or something?" James asked, trying not to sound hopeful. He put his hands on his hips, stoically.

The boy looked half in awe, half confusion. "Um…no. It's just—you're Harry Potter."

James blinked twice. "No, I'm James Potter." The boy knit his brow. "You know, I won that match against Slytherin last term—chaser for Gryffindor?"

"You mean seeker," the boy corrected factually. James raised an eyebrow and the boy blushed again before shoving his nose back in his book.

James turned to his friends, ego getting the best of him. "Who is this little bloke?"

"Dunno mate," Sirius shrugged, rounding on the first year and crossing his arms. "What's your name, then?"

"Sirius," Remus admonished from the sidelines. He tapped the shiny 'P' on his robes.

"I just asked his name, Moony." Sirius held intimidating eye contact with the first year. "So? Go on."

The boy seemed reluctant and quite terrified. "E-euan Abercrombie."

"Never heard of you," Sirius raised an eyebrow, as if that was the only thing that mattered. He jutted his chin up the corridor. "Get lost."

Euan Abercrombie immediately complied, slamming his book shut and scampering away.

"Little git," Sirius muttered after him.

"Sirius," Remus massaged his closed eyes. "I really can't today."

"What did I do?"

Remus met his eyes with an eyebrow slightly cocked, then gently shook his head and sighed. "Nothing…never mind." And he strode off down the corridor.

"Prongs?" Sirius asked as the other three boys followed suit.

"Huh?" James said absentmindedly, eyes dazed. "Do you really think he doesn't know me? I mean, really—a seeker?"

"We should all aspire to your level of fame, Prongs." Remus called over his shoulder. "It really does wonders for the ego—aaggghhh!"

A dungbomb had just flown out of nowhere and hit Remus square in the face. A spectral little man appeared through the wall at the end of the corridor, floating just above their reach and humming to himself.

"Potty Potter, he's a squatter!"

"Huh, that's a new one." Sirius mused, drawing his wand. "At least Peeves knows you, mate."

Remus was blinded by the dungbomb. "PEEVES! I'll call the Bloody Baron—"

"OH NO, no fun!" Peeves' grin widened. "If only he hadn't left me all by my ickle self to go and watch the Headless Hunt—ha ha HA!"

Peeves eyed the four boys mischievously before he began pelting them with dungbombs and what looked like moldy, rotting fruit. Sirius flicked his wand, but it was quickly knocked out of his hand by a flying apple, and Peter had taken shelter behind a tapestry. There was no running away from this one.

"Reinforcements!" Sirius shouted, shielding his face with his forearm.

"On it." James took off running down the corridor, yelling over his shoulder, "Stay strong, lads!"

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James

April 1st, 1996

Gryffindor Tower

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A very short while later, given his quidditch star athleticism, James arrived at the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room.

"Fortis leo," he panted.

The fat lady simply eyed him and did not admit entrance.

James took a deep breath to compose himself and said once again, quite clearly, "Fortis leo."

"That's not the password," the fat lady said simply.

"But it was just this morning! C'mon—I'm in a hurry!"

"No password, no entrance." The fat lady said firmly.

James frantically looked around the corridor for a fellow Gryffindor, but it was empty.

"You know this is my House—just let me in!"

"Hey Harry, forgot the password?"

A boy about James' age rounded the corner. He had a round face and was holding some kind of odd, exotic potted plant.

"I actually do remember it this time, it's my grans first name—"

"Who are you and why—? Oh forget it, I'm in a hurry, need recruits—just spit it out already!" James waved his arms about impatiently.

"O-okay," the boy stammered, clutching his plant pot. "A-augusta solis."

"Finally!"

James clambered through the portrait hole and franticly scanned the common room for someone—anyone—he knew but came up blank. In fact, he'd never seen any of these people. Sure he had his moments of being self-absorbed and oblivious, but this was just strange. Then a flash of red hair caught his eye and he darted over to the fireplace.

The red head heard him coming and turned around—it wasn't Lily.

"Oh, hey Harry." She smiled, adjusting her fiery locks in a ponytail. "I thought you went to the library with Ron?"

The fire danced shadows on James' face as he stared at her speechless, an uncomfortable feeling creeping into his gut. This was the third time he'd been called Harry—why had everyone suddenly forgotten his first name?

"You know," said a very bushy haired girl seated beside the red head, "you really should be, Harry. I finished that essay days ago."

"I'm not Harry, I'm James." James said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The red head and the bushy haired girl met his eyes with shock, then noting the conviction on his face, they exchanged a worried glance.

The red head leaned over and whispered something in other girl's ear that sounded an awful lot like, "I think he's finally cracked."

The bushy haired girl bit her lip. "Er—are you feeling all right, Harry?"

"I'm not Harry," James repeated firmly. "I'm James. Now I'm in a bit of a hurry—have you seen Frank Longbottom around?"

The bushy haired girl peered around James and anxiously eyed the boy tending to his plant.

"Um…no?" she whispered, as though compelling him to lower his voice. "You saw him at St. Mungos, right?"

"St. Mungos?" James knit his brow. "No—he's a seventh year."

The girls looked very confused and increasingly concerned.

"He's Head Boy? Ringing any bells?"

They just looked up at him with very wide eyes.

James rolled his eyes in frustration. "Okay, maybe you've seen Lily Evans then? I really shouldn't ask her for another favor today, but apparently she'll do anything for our precious Remus—"

The bushy haired girl put a hand over her mouth and squeaked, while the red head gently grabbed his elbow.

"Hey, why don't you sit down—"

"I don't have time to keep explaining myself," James huffed in frustration, "poor Moony has a face full of dung as we speak, so thank you—I'll be off!"

He made to leave, but the bushy haired girl grabbed the sleeve of his robes.

"It's okay, Harry…you obviously need to talk, and Ginny and I are here for you—"

James shrugged her off. "Am I speaking in Gobbledygook or something? I need troops! The battle of moldy fruit is raging as we speak—Frank would be ideal, obviously, but Marlene also has a good arm on her, so—"

The bushy haired girl stood and rested her hand gently on his shoulder.

"I'm Hermione, remember?" she implored uncertainly. "And this," she pointed to the red head, "is Ginny."

"Well, I don't believe we've met." James admitted shortly. "Now do either of you have a stomach for dung or—what now?"

He eyed them as Ginny whispered something in Hermione's ear.

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Right—we really should…" she glanced up at James apprehensively. "Er—Harry?"

"James," he said somewhat condescendingly, accentuating the syllables.

"Er—all right then, J-james…" Hermione smiled unconvincingly, as though it pained her to say. "Why don't we go upstairs for a moment?"

Ginny stood and slid her arm firmly into his. "Yeah, we have something to show you."

"Look, I really have to get back to Sirius, Remus, and Peter." James said calmly. Maybe he wasn't being clear enough? "The Barons' gone, so Peeves is bloody unhinged right now."

Hermione looked like she'd just seen a ghost, and Ginny tightened her grip on his arm.

"Sure," Ginny said soothingly, like he was a child and they were playing make believe. "Sirius has a firework stash under his floorboards—we'll create a diversion. Peeves will love it."

"Really? How d'you know that?" James bewildered, his thick head drawing a nonsensical conclusion about Sirius and his female exploits. "And actually, that's a great idea!"

Ginny grinned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Let's go, then!"

They hurried up the spiral stairs and into the fifth-year boy's dorm. James burst out laughing when he spotted bright orange flair hanging about one of the bedposts.

"Since when has Peter liked the Chudley Cannons?" He wiped a tear from his eye at all the posters pinned on the wall. "They're the worst team in the league! Wait…"

James slowly looked around at the rest of the dorm. It wasn't just the quidditch posters that were different, the posters beside his own bed were missing and there was a great, snowy owl perched in the window—

"Hullo," James walked over to greet the owl. Ginny was still firmly holding onto his arm as if she was afraid he might fall over. "Who are you? Have you got post for me?"

"That's Hedwig," Ginny nudged gently. "You know, your owl?" She glanced at Hermione and mouthed, "Maybe he was cursed?"

James was quite confused at the rearranged dorm, the owl that wasn't his, and these two girls he'd never seen before that thought his name was Harry...but he certainly knew he wasn't cursed.

Although, he thought, that's exactly what a cursed person would think…

His mind flashed back to the exploding cauldron that morning and what Remus had said about the scent of powerful magic, trying to fit all the pieces together. Something wasn't right.

Hermione threw back her bushy hair and began rummaging through a trunk at the foot of the bed.

"Hey—why are you going through my trunk?"

"I-I don't mean to invade, I'm sorry, I just—oh!" Hermione held up a leather-bound picture album. She sat comfortably on his bed like she'd been in his dorm countless times before and opened it. "Here, look."

James adjusted his glasses further up his nose and gaped. These were pictures of, well—him. But in these pictures, most of them anyway, he looked older. Maybe eighteen or twenty. And so did Sirius, Remus, Peter, and…Lily?

"Wait…" He narrowed his eyes. "Why do I look old and why is Evans with me?"

His eyes widened as they fell upon a picture of them kissing, with Lily dressed all in white.

"Is this supposed to be my wedding?"

Hermione and Ginny were watching him intently. James looked back and forth between them, waiting for an answer. This was too much. There had to be a rational explanation. He racked his brain, then suddenly remembered what day it was, and his face erupted into a giant grin.

"Oh, I get it. April fools—this is a joke!"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "It is April 1st…but this isn't a joke, Harry."

"Ha ha—yeah, it all makes sense now. This is one huge prank to make me think I'm forward in time, or—or in a parallel dimension, or something…"

That was it!

The pieces clicked together. His unyielding persistence of pining after Lily had become a long running joke between the Marauders, and his fruitless efforts to woo her had peaked recently. Last week, he had made quite a public spectacle of himself while asking her out. This involved riding around on his broomstick in the common room, clutching a tiger lily between his teeth that was charmed to sing "Isn't She Lily" to the tune of Isn't She Lovely by Stevie Wonder.

In response, Lily's face had turned as red as her hair and she had yelled at him:

"I wouldn't go out with you even in a parallel dimension!"

Her words echoed in his head. And today was April Fool's, of all days. Of course this was payback. He was sure of it.

Ginny frowned, watching him closely. "I think we should go to Madam Pomfrey—"

"Is Evans in on it too?" James asked hopefully. "Did she put you up to this? She's bloody brilliant so probably, no way Moony would agree to pull this without her…"

The two girls were speechless, and Hermione jumped as James snapped the photo album shut.

"I should go offer Evans my congratulations. Seriously, 'O' for effort—she nearly had me!"

His ego swelled at the thought of Lily putting so much effort into pranking him and he ran a hand through his untidy hair, smugly.

"Married to Evans. Huh." His face erupted in a smile. "Kind of cruel really, when I think about it. Definitely her idea…"

Hermione and Ginny just continued to stare at him, so he raised an eyebrow and waved a hand slowly over their faces.

"Hull-o? So…where were those fireworks again?"

"A-april Fools!" Hermione stuttered, attempting to smile.

"Yeah, almost had you!" Ginny agreed far too enthusiastically. "Forget the fireworks—let's go find, um, Lily?"

"S-she, um...wants to know if you fell for it," Hermione nodded feverishly.

James ruffled his hair again, his head becoming larger still. "She does? Okay—"

Ginny hooked arms with him and began towards the door. "Of course she does! She's this way, c'mon…"

"She really is brilliant, isn't she?" James sighed, feeling dazed.

"Maybe a love potion?" Ginny whispered.

"From his dead mother?" Hermione mouthed.

Ginny shrugged. "Stranger things have happened…" she grimaced, appearing to rethink this. "Probably?"

James was listening but paid them no mind, his thoughts still wrapped around the photo album, dreamily humming Isn't She Lovely as they made their way through the portrait hole.

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Read Chapter 3 here.

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Notes: Spoiler…Sirius, Remus, and Peter run into Harry next chapter. That's all I'll say! I'm having so much fun with this, I hope you are too. Also, fun fact—Stevie Wonder released Isn't She Lovely in 1976. Hmm…coincidence?

[dobnny]

@ladiesofhpfest

monthly mini for Ginerva Weasley

Summary: Ginny is being interview by Hannah from Risk-and-Taken, but someone interrupts their conversation.

The interview?

"So, Ginerva-"

"Please, call me Ginny." She corrected the interviewer, with a smile that didn't fully reach her eyes.

"Oh, of course. Ginny, as I was saying how excited are you with the upcoming Quidditch season? Do you think the Harpies has what it takes to win the Quidditch World Cup this year?"

"Well, Han-Han, I definitely believe that-"

"Erm, please call me Hannah," the interviewer from Risk-and-Taken, a new prophet company that was competing with the Daily Prophet.

"Of course, Hannah my apologies." Ginny replied, "I believe that this season the Harpies are certainly going to take a risk and come out victorious at the end. Yes, the odds are certainly stacked against us but there's one thing that we have that the other Quidditch teams lack."

The interviewer leaned in closer, intrigued by the determination in the young Quidditch star. Ginny could tell she was about to ask what exactly makes the Harpies stand out amongst all the other teams. When suddenly the living room became dark, and an unfamiliar muggle song started to play all around them.

Before the lights turned back on, instead of a soft white light, the room the light changed from red to pink. Thick smoke began rising from the ground, quickly spreading throughout the room.

"You don't have to be rich to be my girl. You don't have to be cool to rule my world. Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with. I just want your extra time and your kiss."

"Shit." She muttered, her face burning scarlet....damnit. Why now out of all times. She thought to herself, why couldn't Harry take Dobby with him?

Ginny stared at Dobby, who was wearing- wait was that little butter wearing her favorite jersey? She quilted her eyes, and realized that not only was Dobby wearing the jersey that she wore for her first Harpy match, but he was also wearing a pair of Harry’s grey joggers. It was magicked to fit the house elf, yet it didn’t suit him at all. In fact Ginny noticed how Dobby had to continuously hold onto the sides of the joggers in order to keep them up as he danced in a slow circle.

Merlin’s saggy left-

“Oh, it seems as if I’m in the middle of something intimate….I can reschedule this interview at a later time?” Ginny heard Hannah ask from besides her, almost in a strained voice.

Before she could reply to the reporter, Ginny noticed how Dobby had turned around and was staring at her. His eyes were extra wide open and he was watching her like a hawk, he had the audacity to wink at her as if saying, “you like the show?”

“Dobby, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” She asked, through clenched teeth.

“Ms. Ginerva-“

“It’s Ginny.”

“Oh, yes sorry!” Dobby squeaked out, his face turning a shade of murky green. “Ms. Ginny, I wanted to show my gratitude for letting me serve you.”

She closed her eyes, willing herself to count to ten before reaching for her wand and firing a bat bogey hex to the house elf. After a few deep breaths, Ginny opened her eyes and spoke, “there isn’t a need for all of this, Dobby. Please can you leave? I'm in the middle of a very important interview.”

“But, Dobby needs to express his gratitude! Dobby has been practicing for hours, and this time the socks are clean,” the house elf squeaks out as he gestured to his feet. The pair of “clean” socks that Dobby claimed were a mixture of brown and green. It was also emitting a foul odor from the longer he stood there in front of them. Ginny tried her best to push down the bile in her mouth. Nope, she doesn’t want to even think about what the “dirty” socks even looked or smelled like for the matter.

Another silence stretched between the three occupants, that was until Hannah had decided to break the silence.

“You know what, maybe I should get going. Yes-I will send an owl to your manager and we will fix up a different date.” The reporter spoke with difficulty since she was doing her best to hold in her breath.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll ask Dobby to leave-”

“No! I mean, it’s fine….I’ll make sure to keep in touch with your manager and hopefully we’ll set up another date.” Hannah said as she gathered all her things quickly, “Besides, I believe Donny…?”

“It’s Dobby, Miss,” Dobby replied while attempting to give a lopsided smile to the reporter. It seems as though he tried to get that out of her brother’s Ron’s arsenal, because he would always smile like that to Hermione to get his way. Which worked practically all the time, but the way that Dobby is doing it, it just wasn’t pleasant to see. Ginny wondered if Hannah would end up sending in a restraining order against the house elf, just from the way he was trying to smile.

“Right. Dobby, I believe you two have some sort of conversation to finish, and I truly don’t want to interrupt,” Hannah replied and with that she was already rushing to the floor and before Ginny could even call out to her, Hannah was gone.

“So now that we are alone-”

Ginny pulls out her wand quicker than ever and stuns Dobby into the next realm. That buggering little shit.

[secret-vent-rant-account-i-guess]

Ok..I've been thinking about making this for a while so... trigger warnings...I guess

If you do not want to listen about colombine then don't read this so if you don't like any of the stuff related to that then... please go away

If you do want to listen to this and you..... really like the two guys who did it like.....really like them...then also don't read this because it's just me yelling about how I don't like them

And finally 3....there is no grammar or punctuation and I don't wanna put it so without further adieu

MY THOUGHTS ABOUT ERIC HARRIS AND DYLAN KLEBOLD AND WHY THEY SUCK

Ok context I've been doing this thing where I get baked and watch disturbing hour long iceberg videos it's fucking awesome you should try it anyway I was watching "the disturbing and controversial video games iceberg"

Here:

https://youtu.be/sQ1wzo2Zh14?si=Dq74dIht-POE-anC

And on like...teir 3 I think there was this one game titled "super colombine massacre RPG" it's.... exactly what it sounds like and the last teir was doom maps made by Eric harris and idk after watching that video....it stuck with me not in a way that traumatized me but....I kept thinking about those guys their names and faces so often it's like....every other thought and I think a lot

And because I think about them so often I feel bad about it because I feel like one of the people who have a crush on these guys....I don't have a crush on them I have no positive feelings for these greasy mudballs

AND THEY ARE BOTH....JUST ASS LIKE THEY GENUINELY FUCKING SUCK IDK HOW Y'ALL EVEN LIKE THESE DUDES I HATE THEIR GUTS

SPEAKING OF WHICH.....HOW DO Y'ALL EVEN SIMP FOR THESE TRASHMITES

LIKE ERIC HARRIS IS THE MOST AVERAGE LOOKING MOTHER FUCKER I'VE EVER SEEN LIKE....I KNOW LIKE 5 DUDES WHO LOOK LIKE HIM

DYLAN ON THE OTHER HAND LOOKS LIKE THE DEFENTION OF GREASY LIKE THEY ARE BOTH.....JUST....NO

AND ME THINKING ABOUT THEM CONSTANTLY PROBABLY ISNT GREAT FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH BECAUSE IM SCSRED TO GO BUY A SODA AT NIGHT BECAUSE I HAVE THIS IRRATIONAL FEAR THELAT THEY'RE GHOSTS ARE GONNA GET ME....I KNOW THAT WON'T HAPPEN THERES NO WAY IT COULD

ANOTHER REASON IT SUCKS FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH I THINK LIKE.... ALMOST EVERY OTHER GUY MIGHT SHOOT UP MY SCHOOL THAT MAKES ME KINDA PARANOID

AND FINALLY I WAS IN CLASS AND A CLASS MATE OF MINE CAME A LITTLE LATE WEARING A TRENCH COAT AND SHADES I ALMOST HAD A GODDAMN HEART ATTACK ITS NOT OK

AND OH HO HO HO MAN....I FOUND SHIT I FUCKING FOUND....WEIRD SHIT I TRIED TO GO ON THIS SITE CAUSE I THOUGHT MAYBE THERE ARE OTHER HATE POSTS ABOUT THESE GUYS....THEN I REMEMBER ITS FUCKING TUMBLR I FOUND THE FANDOM....THID MADE ME FEEL WORSE LIKE....I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO CONFESS THAT IM NOT ATTRACTED TO THESE FUCK WADS AT ALL LIKE 50 TIMES I FEEL BAD LOOK MAKE ALL THE DYLRIC SHIT YOU WANT MAN BUT FUCK....I DON'T WANNA BE LIKE YOU (wow that sounds mean I'm sorry)

THE FICS ARE WORSE MAN....THEY ARE SO..... IDK HOW TO SAY IT BUT I DON'T THINK I'VE EVER FELT TRUE DREAD TILL NOW

IVE BEEN HAVING DREAMS ABOUT THEM BRO ITS NOT GOOD

(I had this dream where Eric and Dylan lived in one of those influencer mansions like hype house or something and they were telling all the tik tokers about this thing called "cliff terroism" it's domestic terroism but better for the environment and JFK from clone high was there he approved this message)

THERE ARE.... CHARACTER AI BOTS OF THEM.....I-I HAD TO TRY THEM I HAD TO SEE I USED IT TO YELL AT THEM AND THEY WERE LIKE "ur mom" AND I ALSO PRETENDED TO BE A DOG BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL BETTER

I TRIED SO HARD TO GET MY MIND OFF THEM I GOT HOOKED ON WALLY DARLING FOR A BIT SO I GOT CHAT GPT TO WRITE AN ESSAY ON WHY WALLY DARLING IS BETTER THEN THOSE FUCKING ASS RATS

LIKE I..... I FUCKING HATE IT AND THEM AND WHAT HAPPENED AND MAYBE DEEP DOWN I HATE MYSELF A LITTLE TOO

Thanks for listening...I really needed this

[startanewdream]

Hey, happy 2023! It’s been a while that I do t come here.. but I’m always rereading Eyes Glistening!

I love so much that serie! So could I ask for some Mia and Harry moment 🥺

Please?!?

Happy 2023, Ana! ✨ Here's one of those moments where Harry is the nicest older brother!

***

The living room of the Potter house is a mess; Harry manages to cross it without spilling anyone's drink, which he considers a miracle, and he lets out a relieved breath when he reaches the quietness of the kitchen, though he isn’t the only one there.

“This is the last time I’m suggesting throwing the back-to-Hogwarts party at home,” he says dramatically, filling a glass of water for himself.

It’s only when he turns back that he realises that Mia didn’t react to his comment; she is still standing by the window, a frown on her forehead, hazel eyes far away.

“Mia?”

She blinks. “What?”

“Party was too much for you?” He asks, trying to understand. Now he considers it, Harry doesn’t remember seeing her joining her nephews and nieces at the party.

“I’m just not in the mood.”

Harry shifts his weight from one foot to another; it’s rare that Mia gets subdued – unlike him, her teenage moods are more constant. “Can I get you something?”

“Alcohol?” She asks, almost smirking now.

He rolls his eyes. “You are sixteen. No, I was thinking of offering you Teddy’s solution to everything: chocolate.”

Usually, the mention of Teddy is also enough to distract Mia, but this time, she just crosses her arms and turns away from the window. “If I ask you something, would you answer it truthfully?”

“When hasn’t I ever—”

“Were you ever jealous of Ron and Hermione?”

Harry blinks. “Sorry?”

“When they got together – did you ever consider that it would change everything in your relationship?”

“Ah—” The sound of Ron’s laugh can be heard in the other room. “It didn’t change much.”

She puffs. “Forget it.”

“I just mean—by the time Ron and Hermione became a couple, it was after the war and—”

“Then you were with Ginny and other things mattered more,” she finished for him. “Ok, ok, I get it, you were never bothered—”

“I didn’t say this. I got—not jealous exactly, but worried, yeah. There was this moment in our Sixth Year when they almost got together—”

“That Lavender situation?”

“You know about it?”

“There are no secrets in our family, Harry—we can discuss Cho if you—”

“Er—no, I’d rather not. What I mean is back then I worried that I would be left out or that if their relationship didn’t last, we wouldn’t be friends anymore. Turns out I didn’t have to worry about anything, so you may not—what are you worrying about?”

The answer comes in the shape of two figures landing in the backyard; they are distant, but the shades of blue and silver in their hair make them very recognizable. “Oh,” mumbles Harry.

“Oh,” agrees Mia. “It’s not that I am surprised, it’s just—”

“It’s been always the three of you,” Harry says, nodding.

“They aren’t even together yet and they are already doing couple stuff.”

“It’s just like different hobbies. You and Vic enjoy Quidditch; Teddy gets a bit sick after two minutes in the air. Friends don’t do everything together—you are already in different years.”

“It never seemed to matter, until…” She gestures outside. “It did.”

“Hum.” A thought crosses his mind. “Are you jealous? Of them together.”

“Oh, no, no.” Mia looks alarmed. “Merlin, no. I know there was this family bet going around, but whoever bet on me and Teddy—” She shivers. “He’s like a sibling. Not that I need two older brothers, mind you—”

“Minded.”

“No, I knew it would be Teddy and Vic, it just always seemed so far in time.” She sighs. “I’m happy for them, I—”

The rest of her sentence is cut when the backdoor opens, and there comes Teddy, his hair painted in an electric blue. “Wotcher,” he says happily. “Just getting some water for Vic—what are you two doing?”

“Just bad-mouthing you,” answers Mia calmly.

Teddy nods. “Oh, just the usual then. When you’re done brooding, come join us for a flight.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Crossing your arms. Talking alone with Harry. Being mean to me. You are brooding, Potter.”

“Watch it, Lupin.”

Teddy winks at Harry as if to say, “see what I have to deal with?”

“We are waiting for you—Vic told me about your new move, I’ve got to see it.”

“You are going to faint.”

“Probably. What is it with you and moves that defy gravity?”

“It’s called flying, defying gravity is its whole purpose.”

Teddy laughs. He opens the fridge to grab two bottles of soda, all the while holding a glass of water in the other hand.

Mia shakes her head. “Oh, let me, you are going to drop everything on your way out.”

“Probably,” he agrees shamelessly, walking out of the door that Mia holds for him.

“Some things never change,” she mumbles; then she glances at Harry. “I will be back inside in a few—I don’t wanna be a third-wheel.”

“If they called you, they want your company.”

“I know, but…” She sighs. “I will be with Vic all year at Hogwarts, whereas Teddy… well, let’s give them a chance of finally realising they like each other. I bet they’d start going out in September, so at least I get some money out of it.”

“Ah.” Harry smiles. “My bet was on December, let’s hope they stay oblivious a little longer.”

[hprewetts]

what’s the backstory of your oc maisie?

thank you so much for asking @spooky-albi-bumblebee ! particularly because it gives me the opportunity to yap about Maisie, which is something I'm always more than eager to do

(I don't often post about Maisie in this sideblog, but @romulumiko is my archive for all things maisie, where i usually reblog posts and pictures that I exclusively use when i'm creating and plotting maisie. i haven't decided in what blog i'd post her fic though)

Maisie's backstory is not something fixed in the narrative (because i love torturing myself and decided to write her into all seven books) so her character expands and grows as the series goes on

I can't exactly go into details, since my plans include writing all this into a proper full length fic, which I've been chipping away at since ealier this year

But as you can see, I have many things arranged for Maisie and her place in the series, so like I said, there is no concrete "backstory" for maisie as much as there is a background for her life before Hogwarts (being Ron's more academically inclined twin) and the things that happen thereafter

But despite the tremendous effort, this also lends itself to a more dynamic handling of her personality and relationships with others throughout the story

Indeed, much like her developing friendship with Harry and later romance (because I'm a sucker for protagonists), my plans have Maisie colorfully interacting with many characters in the books, from Cho Chang to professor Lupin and Snape

Regardless, I do think there is a certain character that shapes Maisie more than others, and which catapult her place in the story and character development, that being Tom Riddle

I don't remember when exactly I decided that maisie would be using the diary instead of ginny (sorry ginny fans), but by the time maisie's second year rolls around, she is in a particularly vulnerable spot, isolated from her family, who all got sorted into gryffindor, and alienated from her peers in ravenclaw.

much of maisie's conflict throughout the books relies on her being the only member of the weasley family to be in a different house to Gryffindor, although it does not stem only from her sorting, but by a life long sense of otherness she has cultivated for feeling the only different one in a big family like the weasleys

Maisie's curiosity and love for magical creatures (and consequently her understanding of magic as a dynamic force present in the world that surrounds her), makes her more susceptible to the temptation of learning about the Dark Arts, as she is prone to more shades of grey in its use and interpretation than most characters in the series. This makes her understanding of magic similar to characters like Snape and Voldemort (as @ saintsenara brilliantly illustrates in her voldemort/hermione and snape/hermione metas) who are, not coincidentally, prominent Dark Arts users.

Likewise, her sorting in Ravenclaw is not just for show. There is an interesting overlap between Ravenclaws and Slytherins in relation to their ambition and how they approach Dark Magic. Unsurprisingly, all the ambitious and/or popular characters we see in the series (those who don't belong to Slytherin), like Lockhart, Cho Chang (or even the House's Ghost the Grey Lady, who stole her mother's crown due to a feeling of inferiority), are pointedly Ravenclaws.

As we are told by JK in Pottermore, Quirrel first embarked in his journey to Albania to "find whatever remained of the Dark wizard, partly out of curiosity [...] [Quirrell fantasised that he] at best, might learn skills from Voldemort", attenting to this trait of Ravenclaws sometimes disregarding communal perceptions of right and wrong, whereas for academic recognition, personal curiosity or outright eccentricity.

All of this is to say, the most important part of Maisie's story is definitely, as I envision it now, her encounter with Tom Riddle's diary during CoS and their year long situationship.

Genre conventions didn't really allow for any exploration of how Tom Riddle's manipulation of Ginny post CoS affected her later on, which I believe is definitely a pity. I emphasize my definition of Maisie and Tom's relationship as a "situationship", even if they are never explicitly described as being in a romantic relationship, because of the grooming qualities in the canon text of Ginny's relationship with Tom Riddle (once again explained masterfully in one of saintsenara's meta) which I'm choosing to run along with very excitedly

(I have, after all, a lot of Fionna Apple songs in my tomaisie playlist)

If you made it to the end, congratulations! And thank you so much for bearing with me and my needlessly wordy response. I'm leaving a excerpt of "Maisie reviving Tom" scene from the wip archive and a little low effort study i did of a picture of Lily Cole, who I liberally use as a faceclaim for Maisie

[fakeoutbf]

hiiiii ✨

okay before i start, i love how i literally just found you and we already share braincells because i was reading through your answer and i had the same feelings about niall's tour and was literally just about to ask you what your favourite niall and zayn songs were 🙈 okay my favourite niall song is paper houses, but still and everywhere are a close second 🫶 also special mention to this town, you'll always be my beloved. as for zayn, my favourite is tightrope. when nil came out, i listened to that one on repeat for a month straight, my mum and sister went from loving that song to being annoyed by it 🤭 what about you? 👀

see you get it!! i think big cities are fun when you're living with a bunch of people and are studying or something, and just have a bunch of fun and exciting things happening but sometimes, you crave a little bit of quiet which you can never get because there's always something happening. i wouldn't want to immediately settle in scotland, but i think i'm also tired of places that are always busy, so i'm planning to move to an in between place after uni next year. oh i completely agree about the inaccessibility of small towns and how frustrating it can be sometimes. 😔

how was your harry show though, did you have fun? on that note, did you get to see louis too? and, have you seen 1d as well? 👀

i do agree about familial love and i am lucky that my parents and sister are always supportive of me no matter what, and i wouldn't have been here without that 🤍

very interesting choices to go back to!!! since you mentioned being an art nerd (i by no means am, i just go for the aesthetics), what's your favourite painting? who's your favourite artist? i think i'd probably want to go back to the early 1800s, during the victorian era, but also in the same period itself, i'd love to explore some of my own country's culture and traditions because we had loads of kingdoms and such and all of them looked magnificent ✨

today's question, and it's sort of related to one i've already asked, but if love and friendship were colours, what colour would they be? 🤍

- s 💌

hiii 🫶🏻

we share the same braincell what the hell ajnrjfks my favorite niall song is still, hands down. it’s so heartbreaking but such a good way to close the album. and my favorite zayn song is tightrope too JWJRJDKEK ngl if i ever get married i need that song to be in there somehow, it’s one of the softest love songs i’ve heard that was written recently and it makes me ache so bad 🥺

yes, i feel like i’d definitely want to try to live in a busier city at some point in my life, but i feel like you have to have a group of friends to be busy with and you have to be ready for the rush and i’m not there yet ajejfnkswm but i also wouldn’t mind just living somewhere slightly bigger that’s got a little more going on but that i don’t feel like i’m missing too much, you know? and just maybe someone to spend more time with 😪

here’s to wonderful supportive families 💓💓

i really love impressionist paintings, i think it’s my favorite style by far, but idk how i’d pick a favorite painting ajejfjks some of my favorites are the japanese bridge by monet and abandonment by henri toulouse-lautrec that i just love. and favorite artist is probably van gogh, sorry to be basic ajentnsk i’m just really fascinated by the struggle he went through and all his backstory to not even be a paid artist while he was alive but to become such a renowned artist after he passed?? wow. my favorite van gogh painting is probably almond blossom.

the victorian era sounds so interesting! ngl i’ve never actually studied much of it but i’d love to know more. and the kingdoms, culture and traditions sound fascinating! i love when countries have so much history and culture that you just can’t ever learn enough of it, makes me feel even more in touch and proud of it 🫶🏻

friendship is a yellow / golden / orange shade that glows brighter the more you share laughs and love is a soft pink or sage color, whichever brings more calmness / tenderness. what do you think?

sending you lots of love for the rest of the week 💖💞💗💓💕💝🧡

[rabbit-reveries]

—𝑻ruth or Dare pt2

Warning: mentions of drinking and smoking, smut MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 4200

Characters: Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory (who is alive and an 8th year the same time as the others bcus I said so), Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Fem!Reader

Second part of my Truth of Dare fic (first part here)

The kiss is broken, and Pansy grins, something feline, glowing, in the way her lips curl, lipstick smudged. “That didn’t seem like a no either.”

Hermione’s face is brightly colored in the spirit of her house, eyes wide as she stares at Pansy as if the girl had lost her mind. “You’re taking this a bit too far, don’t you think?” you say, trying to voice some reason, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips, expression a bit too much like the Gryffindor’s for the Slytherin’s taste.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re graduating! We’re probably only gonna see each other once in a blue moon, and then we’ll start making excuses to meet even less frequently. Sorry if I want to solve the tension before we’re forced to go into the ‘real world’. Besides, it was Diggory’s idea.”

“I just said it was a fantasy. It was hardly a suggestion.” the Hufflepuff on your back chimes in, tone defensive, hands stiff in your lap. A pause and he trails off, inching his finger closer to your leg, tentatively caressing your thigh “...But if it were to happen… I wouldn’t not be into it.”

“See?” 

Your gaze floats through the group, different shades of disbelief and blush on each face. They are, you have to admit, a gorgeous group of faces. And a gorgeous group of bodies. Turning to look into Pansy’s acid green eyes, you are left with the question she’d asked Hermione: ‘Is there a single person in this room you would mind getting intimate with?’. When you stop to think about it, no. There isn’t.

“I… I also don’t think I would not be into it...” 

Eyes burn on every angle, they’re all staring, picking apart the way you toy with your skirt. You can’t possibly be seriously considering an orgy, right? No, you can’t… But you are. And the thought keeps getting more and more attractive. You’d always had a crush on Cedric, and also on Pansy, and also on Hermione, and… Well, you’d always had a crush on all of them. What is a girl supposed to do when they all bring different things to the table? Ron’s so adorable, and Harry’s so fun to hang out with! Cedric’s so perfect you can’t even begin to describe. Hermione’s so intelligent, she makes you want to try harder. Draco has this special little something that makes you want to take care of him, and Pansy’s got that something that makes you want her to take care of you. 

“I’d quite enjoy it, I think. If all of you were fine with it.” you say, some more courage in your voice. 

Pansy seems pleased at that, and grins your way, looking you up and down. “That is a pleasant surprise! Ferret, are you joining? You’re already half naked anyway. And if I remember it correctly, I did say your name earlier… By accident, of course.”

The boy gets up from the loveseat and takes off his jeans, face livid as he pulls down the fabric to reveal white boxers. “I hate you.” He picks it up to throw it on Pansy’s face. “Never done humiliating me, are you?”

“Don’t say that.” she says, a mock frown on her face. “What is it, baby? Getting fussy?”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“You like ‘ferret’ better? I could always call you by your name, too… But I fear you’re running out of items to strip.”

“Shut up.”

Pansy laughs at the angered expression he wears but extends a hand for him to hold. “Alright, alright, I’m done teasing. The question remains the same, though. Are you joining us?”

He seems to hesitate, but ultimately places his hand on hers and sits down again. The girl grins.

“That’s my best friend.” 

You can feel Cedric turning to the group of Gryffindors. “What about you three? Are you in?”

“I’m in.” Harry says, giving the Hufflepuff a serious nod. Ron blushes and mumbles “Whatever, I guess…”, leaving the final say with Hermione. Her gaze travels between the faces in the group, face scarlet, but, after many reprimands, finally gives in to the idea. “I don’t think I have an option, do I?”

“You do, actually. We’d never force you to do anything you didn’t wan-” you begin, but she shushes you. 

“I don’t have a choice.” states the Gryffindor. “Well, then how do we begin? Are we supposed to undress now?”

You look at Pansy, expecting an answer. It was her idea, not yours. 

“What? You think I know? I’ve never been in an orgy before.” she says as if reading your mind. “But I guess we could start how we’d usually do when going to bed with someone. No one here is a virgin, right?”

You look around the room. Some shake their head, some simply stare at her, waiting for the Slytherin girl to continue.

“Well, then. Potter, can you come here? You seemed awfully eager to make out with Ferret a few moments ago.”

“I wouldn’t say eager-”

“Merlin’s beard, just kiss the man!” Pansy cuts him off. “We don’t have time for you two to play cat and mouse. This is hardly the first time you two hook up.”

Draco turns to her, mouth agape. “You knew?!”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course I knew, you idiot. Now get on with it.”

Harry and Draco stare at each other for a second, and you observe, Cedric’s hands on your lap toying with your own. The Gryffindor inches closer to the other boy, and soon enough he’s straddling the blond. “Well, that’s a start!” you chuckle, turning to the boy behind you. 

“It is. I suppose we should get started as well?”

Your cheeks heat up under his playful gaze, but you can’t deny the excitement bubbling at the bottom of your stomach. You nod and lean towards him, offering your mouth for the Hufflepuff to take, and he does. The rumors were every bit right, you think. He is a marvelous kisser, just the right amount of tongue exploring you. One of your hands cradle his face, the other resting above his own on your lap.

So lost in the kiss, you can’t help but feel startled by another mouth on you. You pull back, only to find Parkinson kneeling on the floor in front of you, lips attached to your neck. 

“You didn’t think I’d be left out of the fun, did you?” says the girl, and you turn to realize everyone paired off, except for Pansy. Draco and Harry, Ron and Hermione, you and Cedric. 

“Obviously not.” you laugh and kiss her lips. The boy behind you attends to your throat, the way the girl previously did. Fingers weaving through strands of pit black hair, you pull Pansy closer, her own hands gripping tight on your waist. Just before you get out of breath, she pulls back and moves on to make out with Cedric. 

You breathe heavily, making use of the small break to watch, barely able to believe the scene before your eyes. To your right, Harry is still straddling Draco, furiously lapping at each other’s mouth as if competing to see who could kiss more fiercely. To your left, Ron is half laid on the loveseat couch, Hermione on top of his body, hands making quick work of his button-up flannel shirt. Almost in a timid manner, you paw at Cedric’s leg, and he breaks the kiss to look at you. 

“What is it, sunshine?”

“I… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

“It’s rather simple, actually. Just do whatever you want.” Pansy chimes in, lips swollen, hair messy, and lipstick long gone. You think she’s never looked quite so beautiful. 

Without much thought, you pounce on her and capture her mouth. Her hands land immediately on your shoulders, squeezing them and pulling you closer, so close you two almost fall on the black and yellow rug. Both of you giggle. “Oops!” you yelp drunkenly before diving back to attach your lips. Cedric sucks on your neck, pulls your blouse to allow himself access to your shoulder, and bites there. Unable to stop yourself, you moan into Pansy’s mouth. 

“Such a pretty sound…” the boy hums, pressing a peck to the dents his teeth made of your skin. You pull back from the kiss, breathless. Instead of switching focus to each other as they’d done before, the pair of students eyes you, a silent agreement is made between them, and they begin to pull on your top. You don’t have time to object, your bra gone in seconds, left half-naked before the two before you have time to process their wicked glances. 

“Oi! It isn’t fair to gang up on me!” you say, trying to hide your breasts as best as you can, laughter filling the room. 

Cedric nuzzles at your neck, big warm hands covering yours on top of your chest, giving it a tentative squeeze. “And you think it’s fair to keep this beautiful body of yours hidden for this long?”

You blush. It is silly, you know, being in a literal orgy with childhood friends, but you can’t exactly stop the blood from rushing to your ears. Eyes looking for something lost in the intricate design of the rug under you, you only take notice of Pansy when her hands snake up your thigh. 

“Can I take off your skirt?”

Taken aback by her gaze, you bite your lip and nod. The boy whose lap you sit on takes his hands off of you, making you miss his touch on the few seconds he takes to find and undo your zipper. The Slytherin pulls the skirt down your legs, and for a second you think she’s gonna take your knickers with it. She doesn’t, leaning in to kiss you instead. Cedric toying with your breasts and Pansy lapping at your last bit of common sense, your head begins to spin, arousal pooling at the pit of your stomach. Unable to hold back, you whimper, helplessly moving your hips, looking for some friction. 

“Needy, isn’t she?” Parkinson pulls back just to giggle. She grabs your face by the chin and plants a peck on your lips. “Our little Y/N… So adorable! Don’t you agree, pretty boy?” she says, forcing you to turn and face Hufflepuff’s golden student. 

“Absolutely. I think I could eat her up!” he smirks. It’s the first time in the entirety of your relationship you don’t feel protected by his glare, catching sight of some unknown glint of greed, thrill, sin. It makes you weak in the knees. 

“Me too. It’s a shame, though…” begins the girl, and you do your best to shift your gaze to her. “I think we’ve hogged her enough.”

“How so?” asks Cedric.

“It’s time to switch pairs.”

Your eyes travel to the other four people in the room. Harry is shirtless, griding on Malfoy’s lap as they continue their ferocious game of the battle of tongues, and the blond fills the room with small groans and whimpers. On the other loveseat, Ron is completely naked with Hermione on top of him, the Gryffindor know-it-all riding the length of his cock with everything she has. She moans every now and then, very much enjoying herself, you see. She is quieter than Ron, though, who holds her by the hip, fingers sure to leave marks with how hard he grips at her. Impressive, you think, watching the two.

“You sure you wanna intrude on them?” you ask. In your imagination, Hermione slaps you for even getting too close to her. You still can’t believe she even agreed on participating in the first place, even if now she seems to be having fun. Before you can say more, Pansy has gotten up and is standing behind the black-haired Gryffindor. She taps his shoulder and whispers something in his ear, and he gets up from Draco’s lap.

You watch as the Slytherin girl kneels to the ground and pulls down the white boxers her housemate wears. “Draco is bigger than I thought.” you muse, eyes glued on the boy’s member. It is, as you said, bigger than you imagined, although thinner too. 

“It’s alright.” says Harry, shrugging. You didn’t even realize he sat next to you on the ground. Before everyone in the room, Pansy takes Draco inside her mouth. “She knows what she’s doing, doesn’t she?”

You nod. “Apparently.”

“I heard she lost her virginity with Draco. They’ve been together for a long time, it’s only natural they know each other’s body like this.” Cedric points out. You’d almost forgotten about him with Pansy and her little show.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I heard the same.” Harry nods. “Hey, Parkinson, is it true you lost your virginity to Malfoy?” he questions, tone raised a bit. You slap his arm. 

“Potter!”

Parkinson stops what she’s doing, turning to eye the Gryffindor with a look you can’t quite place. She then smiles and answers the question like it’s the most normal thing to ask someone. Considering you are about to have sex with each other and watch each other have sex, though, you’re not quite sure what social rules apply and what don’t. Maybe it is normal in situations like these. “Yeah, in fourth year, I think.” says the girl, immediately going back to her former activity. 

That’s… mildly concerning, you think to yourself, but the green-eyed boy in front of you doesn’t let the thoughts linger too long, pulling you in for a kiss. Startled but definitely into it, you close your eyes after a quick second and deepen the connection between the two of you. Harry’s kiss is sloppier than Cedric’s, you notice. Less practice, more passion… You’re not mad at it. You respond in kind, pouring heat into the exchange, hands roaming his body and nails scratching his skin. 

You break the kiss, a smile playing on your lips as you motion for the two boys to continue between them. Potter wastes no time, pulling Cedric by the collar of his shirt, only pulling back for a split second, a strategic retreat meant to get the Hufflepuff out of his clothes. He gets up to undress his trousers, and you, far less shy than you were in the begging of the night, seize his hands so you can do their job for them. 

Potter’s dick stands proudly in front of you, red tip and veiny length. Cedric, by his side, is for sure bigger, the image of the “perfect penis”, if such a thing exists, if not a bit bent to the side. You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips. Kneeling up, you wrap one hand over each of the boy’s shafts and give them a coy pump. One, two, and you can’t resist anymore. You open your mouth to give a tentative lick to the head of Cedric’s cock, focusing on that specific part for a couple of moments, hand never stopping its work on The Chosen One. 

You lick the sides of his member, properly covering it in saliva to use as a lubricant. Your right hand begins to stroke him, and you turn to Harry’s thing, pressing a playful kiss to the head. Cedric laughs. “How come he gets a kiss and I don’t?” says he, wrapping a hand on strands of your hair and pulling on them delicately. 

“Are you jealous? In an orgy?” 

“I’m not saying I’m not.”

“Hm. Why don’t you two kiss to get back at me?” you suggest, biting your lip. 

To your delight, the Hufflepuff accepts your suggestion and turns to make out with the other boy. You then go back to what you were meant to be doing - giving head to two of the boys you crushed on since forever. Doing the same as you did with Cedric, you lick the sides of Potter, paying extra attention to the veiny bits, hand never stopping on the other boy. Back to the head, you suck on it for a few seconds before beginning to try and take him deeper. At first, you struggle a little, gag reflex attempting to stop you from reaching your full potential. With a little bit of patience, though, you manage to work through it, the Gryffindor gently using your hair to guide you. 

He throws his head back and moans your name softly, the sound making you swallow around him. Before he can lose his composure, which you are sure wouldn’t take long to happen, you disconnect your lips from his member. 

“Your turn, pretty boy.” you giggle, looking up at Cedric. His eyes darken up a bit at the teasing nickname.

“I thought you didn’t play Parkinson’s games.”

You search for the girl, finding her in the exact same spot as she was when you last saw her - on her knees as Draco messily fucks her throat. “I don’t know, her game seems pretty fun now.” you lick the tip of his dick at that, a daring look on your eyes. The boy has no time to retort as you throw caution to the wind and attempt to take him deep. It is hard, you have to admit, and it isn’t just once you think you’re a second away from choking on him. It doesn’t help how fast he lost the kind façade and began to roughly push you closer to his pelvis. 

Potter never stops watching the two of you, hand enveloping your own to guide you into pumping him faster. Your head is spinning with alcohol and oxygen shortage, your hand exhausted from repeating the same motion when Harry stammers. 

“I’m- I’m close.”

Cedric throws his head back, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Merlin… I don’t think I’m far behind, mate.”

Hearing that, you begin to work faster, passionately moving to satisfy both. Cedric didn’t lie when he said he wasn’t far, you think, as he came first, salty ropes of cum on your mouth, dripping down your chin and chest. Potter follows suit a short moment after, spilling himself on top of Cedric’s semen. 

The three of you breathe heavily, and you feel content with being able to bring pleasure to both boys. They look absolutely dreamy as they are in this moment, faces flushed and with dazy expressions. Still, you can’t help but feel a bit neglected. 

“That was… Amazing. Fuck!” Potter exclaims, sitting on the floor. “Thank you, Y/N. Best handjob/blowjob I’ve ever gotten.”

“She’s good at it, isn’t she?” Cedric says, still standing up. He pets your hair warmly, playfully tugging at a strand. “Makes me wonder who she’s been practicing with.”

You smile. “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

“Cheeky, are we?”

You giggle and lean towards his touch, which travels to cup your face. He caresses you, a fond look in the grey-blue of his eyes as he gets down to press a soft kiss to your lips. It quickly becomes quite passionate, with him pulling you to his lap. You turn to look for Harry, but find him with Pansy and Draco, the trio getting themselves in a rather complicated position. 

“What do you think they’re going to do?” you ask.

“I have no idea…” answers Cedric. “Is Harry trying to…?”

“I don’t know. I’m already impressed he managed to get hard again this quick.”

You peel your eyes off the three, going against your morbid curiosity, and properly climb on the Hufflepuff’s lap. Attention back to the man in front of you, he wastes no time waiting to kiss you with hunger. You lose yourself in the kiss, nails drawing red lines in his skin, leaving dents here and there. He holds you by the neck, applying the littlest bit of pressure there, and making your already loopy train of thought completely lose the tracks. With the hand that doesn’t squeeze your throat, he roams your body, exploring every curve now he doesn’t have to share you with anyone else. 

You melt under his touch, whimpers and soft moans scaping your mouth as you grow needier and needier. Finally, as if hearing your prayers, his fingers find the lacy hem of your knickers. “Can I?” asks the boy.

“Of course.”

Consent is clearly stated, he gives your mouth a soft peck and presses kisses from your cheek to your ear, from your ear to your neck, from your neck to your chest, and only stops when he has a nipple between his teeth. His fingers graze the fabric of your underwear, a little clumsy as they pull it to the side and begin to trace circles around your entrance. You grind on his hand, eyes closed, searching for some friction.

“You’re needy, aren’t you?” he chuckles.

You open your eyes only to glare at him. “Shut up, Diggory. You already came - on my mouth, might I add, you can’t tell me anything when I’ve still got your cum on my face.”

He stares at you for a moment, his hand still working on you, and can’t help but laugh. “That’s- That’s true, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s a bit hot, actually, now that you mention it…” Green-blue orbs trace your face, your swollen lips, chin, and chest, where he can still see some of the traces left by Potter and himself. The look he gives you is nothing short of hungry, and, just like that, he’s back to attacking your mouth, one finger plunging into your core. 

“...!” you yelp, shocked by the intrusion. You’re not mad at it, though, and kiss Cedric back with what you can to match the energy. Rocking your hips on his hand, you give him a wordless go-ahead to add another digit to the equation. It feels good to be full, but it isn’t nearly enough when you can feel his erection on your ass. Gasping for air, you pull away. “Ced…”

“What is it, beautiful?” he asks, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“I want you inside me.” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirks and pulls his hand off of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact. To your satisfaction, however, he soon puts it to use by pushing the fabric of your knickers out of the way, presenting your cunt to the head of his cock. You gasp, still sat on his lap, and lower yourself down the length of his dick the tiniest bit. You’d be lying if you said you’d never fantasized about doing this… And now you are doing it, with all your closest friends there to witness the joyous occasion. Not that they’re paying much attention to you - they’ve got their own stuff going on.

Slow and steady, you soon have all of Cedric inside of you. It feels amazing to be this full, your chest rising against his as you wait till you feel ready to start moving. He caresses your face and kisses you tenderly, so softly you almost forget for a moment that you’re in a room full of people. It is just the two of you. 

…Until you hear Hermione’s scream of pleasure, bringing you back to reality. 

“They’re on the second round, aren’t they?” you muse.

“Yeah, I think so. You’d imagine they’d try other people since this is… Well, group sex. But they sure seem to be enjoying themselves.” says Diggory. 

Sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mixed with curses and loud moans. You laugh, the situation downing on you. It is a bit comic if you think about it… At least to your drunk and high self, that is. Shaking your head with amusement, you begin moving rather timidly, Cedric’s hands on your hips guiding them. If the others are enjoying themselves, so are you. His heavy breath on your ear, face hidden on the crook of your neck, you let yourself be held by Hufflepuff’s golden boy, and relish in the heat his body provides. Beside yourself, your movements speed up, flesh looking for relief. 

He groans your name, fingers digging on your waist. Again, he bites on your shoulder. You whimper because of the pain, a moan you’d been holding back leaving your lips with it. His hand goes to your throat, holding it. The dark thing in his eyes is back, you realize, as he kisses you once more. 

“Say my name.” he orders. 

“Cedric!” you all but yell. 

He begins to thrust into you, deep and deeper. It hits just like it should, and the heat in the pit of your stomach grows big enough to swallow you. You can tell this is Cedric’s effort to make you cum as soon as possible because he won’t last much longer. It doesn’t take that much time for his pace to turn erratic. 

“Are you gonna cum?” you ask.

“I… Think so. What about you?”

“Not far… I want you to cum inside me.”

He groans as if those words alone were enough to drive him over the edge. You snake a hand down to your clit, flicking it to try and speed up the process. It works like magic, and you soon come undone on his cock.

[tinydestinybear]

I'm embarrassed for making another request but could you also do one of dating!harry meeting your parents / you meeting his? 😭😭

heyya! i’m sorry for taking so long, that being said i hope you enjoy and you can send in as manyy requests as you wish to <3

—

“You have nothing to worry about, love.” Harry assured Y/N as he pressed a light yet sweet kiss on her forehead, his arm coming to rest around her shoulder as he lightly caressed it.

It was the first time Harry had showed up at his family’s house, hand in hand with his girlfriend, Y/N. 

Y/N rubbed her palms nervously against each other, sweating despite it being so cold. It was undeniably a nerve wrecking situation.

“Darling, take a deep breath for me. They are going to love you as soon as you walk through the door.” Harry assured her, pulling her in for a side hug.

“I know,” she sighed. “But I can’t help think what if they don’t like me?” Y/N had already met Gemma at a dinner and she knew they had a good time together, so this was just her getting nervous. 

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, “They’d never say so to your face.”

“Harry!” she pinched him. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding of course they’re gonna love you, what’s not to like?” He said, holding her a little tighter in his embrace as Y/N let his words comfort her. 

They could hear footsteps across and soon enough the door swung open, Gemma was there, a wide smile on her face. 

“I was waiting for you two,” she said as she hugged Harry and Y/N warmly. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine, but I mostly slept through it while Y/N watched a movie,” Harry said, taking the lead.

“I’m glad!” She said. 

As they walked towards the kitchen where Anne was, Harry and Gemma gave Y/N a brief tour of the house, mostly just pointing to each room they passed, which Y/N had seen glimpses of on multiple calls with them. 

They passed a lot of gift collections and frame pictures of the three together, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile - to see Harry share a little piece of his childhood with her brought an unknown comfort to her. 

When they came in the kitchen, Anne was setting up the table and as Gemma seemed to let out a “she’s here” cough, Anne looked up. 

“Mum, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled politely at Anne as she came towards them, “Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!” His mom smiled as she took Y/N in a warm hug.

“Thank you for having me!”

“Of course! The more the merrier!”

“Would either of you like some hot chocolate?” Anne asked.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Y/N said as Harry nodded agreeing.

While Harry supposedly decided to make some hot chocolate and give some time to Y/N, Gemma and Anne alone, the three sat down on the couch and had a good conversation.

“Harry has been so excited to bring you home,” Anne exclaimed. “I don’t think he’s ever phoned us that much to check in!”

Y/N giggled, adding on, “Well I’ve myself been looking forward to this trip for so long! I’ve never been to England.”

Sometime later, when Harry was bringing over the tray with the hot chocolate cups, he heard them all giggle. Making his way slowly to the living room, he looked at the three most important girls in his life interacting.

“Oh my god, he looks so cute here!” Y/N adored, seeing childhood pictures was something everyone enjoyed during the first meets and Y/N couldn’t wait to tease Harry. 

“What is it, love?” He asked, keeping the tray down on the table and taking a seat beside her and planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Look at you, you looked so cute!” She giggled slightly, pointing again at the picture.

“Oh God! Not those pictures, please” He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. 

“But you look so cute holding that pose!” Anne laughed, turning the pages to let Y/N see a picture with Gemma hugging Harry. 

They just looked so cute.

“Mum!”

“And look at this one,” Anne said as she showed another picture of young Harry smiling as he had his shades on with a big thumbs up towards the camera. 

“I need to take a picture of this and keep it for the rest of my life,” Y/N giggled as she kissed his cheek.

“Lovie, please,” he whined.

“Nope. And it will also be my lock screen wallpaper. You know you can’t stop me,” she smirked. 

“Yeah, yeah!”

—

“Hey, listen I’m really glad you’re here enjoying,” Harry said after sometime, nearly whispering.

There went that feeling in her heart again. Y/N didn’t think she could smile any less than she already was if she tried.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she agreed and kissed him in the soft comfort of their new home.

—

reblogs and feedback are appreciated! 🌻

[riridontneedya]

IMPERIUM✨

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Any house Reader, Harry Potter x

Wordcount: 4,210

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST dom ,sub, daddy ,oral, teasing ,praise, spitting , chocking etc run of the mill smut.

A/N : Well the time has come I've finally given in.. I say finally didn't take much conviction lol. Anyway in this universe Dumbledore is still very much alive and no-one tried to kill one another so all is well. As always enjoy and let me know what you think xx

Summary: Draco and y/n battle it out for the new position as headmaster but what happens when they are made to work alongside one another

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please” spoke Dumbledore. He arose from his chair gently tapping his knife against his chalice in order to garner the crowds attention . Shortly everyones eyes were fixated on him. He cleared his throat and began. “I would like to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight … as we all know its been a tough decision for me to step down, however! .I have no fear as I know the school will be in the safest of hands. I hand picked these two myself and in-fact trust them with my life. I know they have been working tirelessly day in and out to ensure not only my trust .. but all members of committee and most importantly our students. So with that being said when it is revealed in tomorrows assembly who the new headmaster and deputy are I want you both to know ,no matter the outcome I am so proud of you both, so let us raise a toast to our candidates . Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and Draco Lucius Malfoy”. With that Dumbledore rose his chalice high in the air smiling warmly at the pair. Everybody followed suit and raised their glasses high in celebration.

Draco and Y/N graciously thanked everyone as they showered them with words of praise and encouragement . Just then Y/n went to speak however her words were abruptly cut short by Astoria. As if an eager child unable to contain her excitement she blurted out. “ Draco and I are so grateful for all the support, so as a thank you after this we will be having refreshments and canapés at the Malfoy manor to celebrate his new position as headmaster .. all are welcome to join”. ‘Headmaster .. oh my how incredibly presumptuous” Y/N chuckled into her drink. “Excuse me” squeaked Astoria, she spun around rapidly locking eyes with Y/n. Y/n folded her arms across her chest and began “I do believe you heard me Astoria .. you said headmaster and thats yet to be revealed so for you to address Draco as said headmaster is well.. presumptuous”. Astorias tongue prodded the inside of her cheek, you could tell by the hue of red in her face she was infuriated but trying to find the words without imploding.

“Well , I just know he will ok so yeah just know that”, spat Astoria in a feeble attempt to shake off Y/ns rightful observation’. ‘Oh I see” snapped y/n “why didn't you say it was you sooner, Sybil , Sybil Trelawney teacher of divination . What are you doing here under the guise of Polyjuice potion? I mean you could’ve just come with your crystal ball and tea leaves and said he was the winner that way instead of this elaborate scheme don’t you think?” The laughter of fellow by standers suddenly erupted around the women. Astoria who now sup parsed hues of red was the shade of a beetroot , completely enraged prepared to snap she was interrupted by Dumbledore. “ NOW now girls quell your fiery natures, this is to be a peaceful night of celebrations”. The woman smiled coyly at Dumbledore. ‘My apologies Dumbledore” y/n chimed up. “We speak no more of it ok” Dumbledore smiled and gently patted the crown of y/ns head and proceeded to make his way back to his chair. Y/N turned and smiled gloatingly at Astoria. In response Astoria screwed her face up mockingly and fled no doubt to chastise Draco for not swooping in and defending her.

“Pwoarh Nice one mate” chuckled Fred as he held out his fist waiting for Y/n to bump it. Hahah stop it you she giggled. ‘Here , should we go to the manor after this for a laugh” sniggered George appearing alongside them. “Ha, I'm sure she’s revoked my invitation effective immediately” said Y/n, as she peered over to Astoria , she could see her flailing her arms around whilst Draco made no attempt to conceal his look of boredom in the conversation. “You know what lets .. Ive been dying to get a peek of the manor anyway what harm can it do”. ‘Cracking’ the twins harmonised in unison. The trio linked arms and jollied along.

Once arrived at the manor they soon found it to be every bit luxurious as they envisioned. The floors were marble and reflected the light of the enormous crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Each stair of the grand staircase was illuminated by candle light creating an auburn strip propelling up the length of the stairs. Every inch of the manor oozed with decadence. “Wow , its rather impressive” mused y/n . “You can say that again” chimed Fred as he helped himself to a glass of champagne , handing one over to y/n. They began to mingle and drink with the rest of the party guests it was an overall pleasant evening that was until Astoria appeared before Y/n. “Glad to see you could make it y/n” said Astoria with a constipated smile. She had made little to no effort to conceal her sarcastic tone.

Y/n had no interest in rehashing todays mini confrontation. Instead she pulled a sickly sweet smile and said “ Wouldn’t miss it for the world, thank you for your generous hospitality Ms Green grass.” Astorias face dropped “green green .. she muttered, haha don’t be silly you must get use to calling me Mrs Malfoy”. Now despite y/ns fondness to antagonise Astoria at any given opportunity she couldn’t help but see she was visibly hurt. She immediately began to fumble her words in a bid to preserve her feelings “honestly , Astoria I'm sorry I didn't know the extent of your relationship .. I apologise”. Astoria still hadn’t reacted she stood stationary bottom lip protruding sad and helpless like a lost puppy. Y/n gently squeezed Astorias forearm and began to say “ look you mustn't pay it any mind, Draco wouldn’t dare indulge in any small talk with me about family life .. so don’t stress it congratulations by the way”. Astoria looked up at her with eyes softened . Relief washed over Y/n as she could tell she was receptive to her. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder to herself why he hadn’t mentioned news as big as that , they had worked so closely over these months . To be fair on a good day if you hadn’t known Draco you wouldn’t even know he had a girlfriend let alone fiancé .. or wife ?

Astoria went to talk but just then none other than Draco emerged behind her . His hand came down onto her shoulder. sharply. “ thats enough now sweetheart , I think Daphne was looking for you actually”. There was a weird exchange of eye contact Astoria weakly smiled and left. It was now just y/n and Draco stood before one another. Draco broke the silence by clearing his throat “ Y/L/N, may I interest you in a nightcap in my office ,there are things Id appreciate to discuss before we venture into our new working relationship”. Although slightly bewildered she agreed as after all they were to work alongside one another and she’d rather it be somewhat harmonious than turbulent.

Y/n followed Draco across the length of the great hall and into a pair of grand double doors. The room was vast , books littered the walls as far as the eye could see and in the corner a fireplace roared. Draco stood behind his desk and motioned for y/n to take a seat opposite him. She smoothed the back of her dress and proceeded to make herself comfortable. Draco started pouring whiskey from the crystal decanter into a couple of whiskey tumblers. The burn of the fire whisky ignited as it glided down her throat. The combination of whiskey and champagne left Y/N beginning to feel somewhat merry, she hadn’t really noticed during the quiet sobering conversation with Astoria. ‘So what is it you have in mind Draco?”. His stormy grey eyes peered over at her from behind his glass. ‘Very well” he remarked and manoeuvred himself to Y/NS side of the desk .He perched himself on the edge legs akimbo and both his large veiny hands clasped around his whiskey glass. Y/n inhaled sharply as she averted her gaze from his legs splayed before her. Continuing he said “ As you're aware I have my plans about how Hogwarts should be run , I have a detailed strategy and I plan to implement it as soon as possible .. so what I'm really asking is are you with me or against me because I have no intention of being held back”.

Y/n blinked rapidly .. she was unable to process what he was saying , how could he be so smug thinking he had headmaster place secured already. “ Fuck sake Draco, ok first that wasn’t really posed as an option now was it ?, also enough with belief that its your divine right to just be appointed as headmaster! What makes you think that if you somehow are the headmaster I will just bend at your will? Pathetic!” She scoffed into her drink. Draco began to stifle a laugh “ Ah you do amuse me y/n”, look I'm willing to let you have some creative control … only if you prove to me how badly you so desire it”. His suggestive smile sent shivers up y/n. “Fuck you Malfoy” she hissed and jolted from her seat, once she reached the door she rattled the doorknob but to no avail the door wouldn’t budge. “Open it now” she demanded . Draco slowly sauntered towards her and leant across the door “hmm I thought you liked a challenge .. guess I was wrong this will be no fun after all ” Draco was indeed correct Y/n did enjoy a challenge and he’d be gravely mistaken if he thought she would let him get away without putting up a fight”.

Something switched in Y/n she turned to face Draco who was only inches away. He towered over her with his svelte frame encased in an all black suit. ‘Is this what you want Draco hmm” she said in a sultry tone whilst hooking her finger into his belt loop pulling him closer. You want me to beg ..or would you rather me on my knees .. better yet I could be a good girl and just bend over that desk right now and let you have your way if thats what you want” . Draco's breathing was now laboured within seconds he had pulled y/n in by the waist flipped her round having her pressed against the door, his body weight up against her and his hand holding her arms in place on the door. Y/n could feel the stiffness of his impressive length against her derrière. With a shallow gasp he breathed dangerously close to her ear “ be careful what you wish for ms Y/L/N , I don’t take too kindly to false promises as I always get what I want” . With that he tossed her around to face him .Y/n was now panting her body was burning in desire she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees there and then. No wonder Astoria was attached to his hip.. if this was anything to go off.

Y/n bit her lip she felt dizzy with emotions . Draco stood before her with a devious smile , his hands soon intertwining at her waist and face buried in her décolleté littering it with kisses making his way down to her ample bosom. Y/n couldn’t help but throw her head back in delight eliciting a small moan. That only became fuel for Draco as he hoisted her leg from the floor and wrapped it around him. It was then Y/n felt a vibration from the opposite side of the door., as if someone had knocked from the outside . It was then followed by a mousy ‘ Dray , are you in there’. Draco paused for a moment grip still tight on y/n. “What is it I'm having a business meeting , i'll be out shortly don’t hover ”. It was clear who it was… the pair unraveled themselves from one another quickly smoothing out clothing and rejigging themselves. ‘Ok let us” let me stop you Draco, Y/n interrupted pressing her finger against his lips to audibly shush him. “ As if you think id let this happen you think you get to fuck me then you do as you please and I a dutiful little lap dog . Pfffft what a joke like it or not I'm going to be your boss so the only way I'm fucking you is in the more figurative sense , now you better hurry up don’t want to keep your fiancé waiting or Is it wife hmmm”. With a quick flick from her wand she sent the door swinging open and promptly stormed out.

The day had finally arrived the great hall of Hogwarts was alive with the buzz of chatter. The sizeable table at the forefront of the hall hosted all the teachers and most importantly both Draco and y/n. Dumbledore made his way to the podium, he produced his wand and placed it at the base of his neck it acted as a megaphone propelling his voice across the hall. “Everybody if I may have your attention please.” The chatter soon died down and everyone eagerly cast their eyes on him. “ Right, I shan’t keep you in suspense anymore , it is time to announce your new headmaster & deputy ’. Both Draco and y/n fidgeted in their seats after all these months of rivalry it had boiled down to this. “ Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Ms y/n y/l/n your new headmaster !” Boomed Dumbledore. .Y/N shrieked she was giddy with excitement she couldn’t believe she had actually done it. Everyone around her broke out into wild applause there were whistles and jeers laughter overall excitement. She was being ushered by the surrounding teachers to get up to the podium to make a speech. As she was making her way she cast eyes on Draco, there he stood paler than usual and unresponsive he was there physically but not mentally his carcass stood stationary unable to ingest the news he had just been fed.

The days rolled into weeks weeks rolled into months and y/n had almost completed a whole term at Hogwarts. All was going swimmingly and albeit begrudgingly Draco was in-fact a great support on her journey. It was the last night of term and y/n sat a her desk pondering over a mountain of papers. Y/n sighed and cradled her head in her hands , she was exhausted she spent all her time dedicated to the role that she forgot to take time out for herself. There was a knock at the door “Come in” she yelled out. Draco's head emerged around the door. ‘

Oh hey you , come in come in” ushering him to the desk. ‘Oh dear , sucks to be you , regretting the position of power now?” Draco chuckled menacingly. “Ha ha very funny” she uttered dryly. “Anyway , some of the other teachers are going out for drinks but I can see you are busy” said Draco eyeballing the mountains of paper. “Yeah.. I afraid I am , but you enjoy yourself Draco have a drink for me and i'll see you next term” she smiled warmly at him. Draco locked eyes on her , hands stuffed in his pocket he began to fidget. “In all honesty I'm not the fondest of all the people going .. also Id much rather not be at home ..before you laugh or probe why just don’t because I won’t go into it but I can’t bare to spend another moment longer with …her .. so umm yeah , I can help you out here then say you make it up to me buying me a drink later?”

Y/n smirked “You’re quite then enigma aren’t you Draco ..? He raised his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement. “Fine , id appreciate that very much but I am rather tired so if it's not beneath you I can offer you a drink at mine ..”. His eyes flickered up to meet hers , stifling a smile . “Id like that ..”he said softly , ‘well then , let's get to work” y/n smiled. Draco and y/n worked through the night it was filled with chatter and laughter they felt at ease with one another. Once they finished up the momentum continued on at y/ns house. Copious amounts of fire whiskey later they found themselves delving into deeper topics having more in-depth conversations and discovering more about one another. Draco's whole demeanour was very relaxed and this was foreign to y/n. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie loosened. ‘You know .. you're an alright person not that much of a pain in my arse surprisingly” Draco chuckled swigging another mouthful of whiskey. “Well thats rich” laughed y/n.

“Right well I've really enjoyed this but its getting late , I can barley keep my eyes open … earlier you mentioned you didn't want to go back so .. you're more than welcome to stay …. Only if you want”. Rattled by the kind gesture he smiled affectionately. Stumbling over his words “umm yeah , thank you y/n you’ve exceeded your generosity let me at least grab us coffee for the morning then. “Sounds like a plan , hopefully you won’t find me a pain in the arse again come morning ”. With a cackle Y/n got up from the couch and showed Draco to the spare room. Once at the door she began to wish him a goodnight. As he went to hug y/n his lips grazed her cheek. Y/n suddenly recoiled , a silence loomed over them as they gazed at one another the emotions of that night in Draco's office flooding back. Y/n could feel the heat surging in her cheeks so she hastily wished him a good night and scurried to her room. Once in the shelter of her room she let out a sigh of relief. She knew it was the right thing to do but my how she craved him.

Draco burst through the door making a beeline for Y/N. He took her into his arms and kissed her with an insatiable hunger. Backing her into the wall he began to rid her of her clothing . Y/n hands clambered at his chest to do same however he abruptly stopped her “ Oh no you don’t , you think I forgot about that little stint in my office huh ? Well I didn't and I've been awaiting the day I get to fuck you senseless Ms y/n … you control me all day and now its y turn to control you .. you will do everything I say do you understand” . Enthralled by his dominance Y/n nodded enthusiastically. “Sorry I didn't hear you “ roared Draco grabbing her face towards his. “Yes who”. “Yes Draco” she moaned . “You can do better than that dear yes who, i'll only ask you one more time or i'll have bent over my knee.. so what will it be?” . “Yes … daddy “ she muttered bashfully. “Thats my girl” he bellowed. He grabbed her and thrust her onto the bed , he unfastened his tie and instructed her to lift her hands above her head. Y/n did as commanded. He bound her wrists up and hooped them over the bed post. “Now, I'm going to have my way with you and you don’t get to touch me understood!” ‘Yes daddy y/n whimpered” “ahh what a good girl you are, ugh the things I'm going to do to you”. Y/ns eyes winded in desire, Draco shimmied y/ns shirt up and instructed her to bite down using it as a makeshift gag. He suddenly began to kiss her lower abdomen slowly sliding off her trousers.

Y/n titled her hips aiding him in taking them off. Draco's eyes lit up upon the discovery of her not wearing any undergarments “oh so you were anticipating me you filthy slut” Draco chuckled darkly’. He teased and taunted kissing her inner thighs only grazing her sex, this drove y/n crazy her body craved him inside her. Draco finally delicately licked a strip against her folds causing her body to crumble at the slightest of his touch. His warm moist tongue began frantically massaging her causing her to rive in ecstasy . His tongue began to vibrate excitedly against her clitoris sending shock waves through her entire body , she bucked her hips in excitement unable to keep her composure as Draco's tongue fixated on lapping up the one spot that drove her insane. Y/n was close he was relentless with his tongue against her swollen bud , just as she was about to finish Draco withdrew. Y/ns face fell in disgust just as she was about complain he plunged his fingers deep inside her ..pumping rhythmically y/ns juices coated his fingers . His other hand sloped around her neck , eventually this caused her to release all over his hand. Draco's pupils now engulfed his eyes …he was enthralled in pleasure watching her crumble for him . “ Aren’t you a good girl , snarled Draco “squirting for daddy , whilst I love it I don’t recall giving you permission to” .y/n squirmed overcome with pleasure unable to respond.

He unhooked her and brought her to her knees. He ripped her shirt from her mouth and produced his veiny throbbing cock dripping with pre cum. Y/n gasped in astonishment and eagerly attempted to take him all in her mouth bobbing her head enthusiastically until her jaw ached and eyes began to stream. He hurled his head back in pleasure as her tongue gently caressed his pulsating tip. “Ugh yeah just like that baby “ he muttered .

Without warning y/n sucked on the tip with vigour. Draco let out a ferocious moan whilst grabbing y/ns hair fashioning it into a ponytail attempting to make her glide her tongue down the rest of his shaft. He couldn’t have her do that for too long as he surely would finish in her mouth. “You filthy filthy girl “ he beamed as he pulled her off his cock . Rocking her head back spiting in her mouth. He brought yn to her feet and began kissing her deeply interlocking his tongue with hers , she yearned so badly to touch him to feel her skin against his. “ Get over here , I want you leant over this bed frame whilst I fuck you .. I'm going to cum on that pretty pussy then I'm going to put it back in understand!” Firmly instructed Draco . “Yes daddy” that’s my girl he cooed. Draco teasingly stroked his member against her entrance this sent shock waves through y/n causing her to gyrate in hopes he would slip in. Draco caught onto this and his hand came down harshly on her derrière .y/n let out a gasp. “Don’t be greedy now” he laughed tightening his makeshift restraints on her wrists. Relentless with his teasing it was a shock to y/n when Draco abruptly pushed into her. Y/n was in euphoria as was Draco as the warmth of her walls swaddled his manhood.

Draco slammed into y/n her body rattling with pleasure, just then Draco felt himself out to release .. so true to his word he instructed y/n to lay on her back so he could empty his contents onto her. He threw his head back in jubilation upon release. As he went to enter her again this time her was slower much more gentle taking y/n into his arms. “How do you want me to finish you off baby?,like this or I could use my fingers?” Y/n shuddered remembering the bliss she was in from his lengthy fingers so it would be a no brainer to opt for them “Fingers please daddy” she uttered softly.

He untangled himself from her stood up and offered his hand . Taking her across the room he sat down in-front of the floor length mirror instructing y/n to sit in between his legs. “If its fingers you was then its fingers you’ll get but your gonna have to watch me”. His large hand sloped up her neck tenderly chocking her whilst his other massaged at her slit . Y/n was still dripping from earlier so it was light work for him to imbed his fingers into her. Y/n couldn’t take it the combination of Draco's fierce unwavering gaze in the mirror and the sheer bliss she felt with her legs quaking she soon released decorating the mirror in-front her. “Ugh your amazing baby” he beamed kissing her forehead gracefully. “Here let's get you cleaned up and we can cuddle in bed”. “Oh my … I didn't peg you as a cuddling type Draco” y/n laughed gingerly attempting to get up her legs still trembling beneath her. “Shut up you” he scolded “when will you learn there’s a lot you still don’t know about me y/n”.

[queenshelby]

A NEW WORLD - PART ONE (UPDATED)

A Quiet Place 2 Fanfic

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader

Summary: This story will follow Emmett and the Reader before and after the invasion. Each Part will be about 1,000 to 2,000 words long and take place on a particular day (as listed on each part).

Warning: Mild Smut, Age Gap, Alcohol Abuse, Spoilers for AQP2

***

DAY: 41 DAYS BEFORE THE INVASION

It was a sunny Saturday evening and you were out watching the local baseball match. Your half brother Lucas was playing and, as usual, your mother was unable to take him to the game.

Ever since your step father had passed away two years ago, she became addicted to alcohol, drinking moonshine in the early hours of the morning.

Your younger sister quickly moved out when she turned 18 but you couldn’t leave your step brother behind. He was only 12 years old and too young to care for himself.

Most of your mother’s income support payments were spent on booze and you were fortunate enough that your stepfather’s life insurance payout covered the remainder of the mortgage on the house.

In order to buy food for yourself and your brother, you had to work hard. You’ve been attending an educational program in town to become a midwife and, at the age of 22, you almost completed your studies. Your goal was to move to Georgia with your brother and make a new life for yourself.

But little did you know that life had other plans in store for you, beginning on that particular day, at the baseball game.

***

‘Hey Y/N’ you heard from behind you and you quickly turned your head only to see your colleague’s husband Emmett sit there with his son Max, watching his other son Henry play alongside your brother Lucas.  

‘Oh god Emmett, what happened?’ you asked as you saw his hand covered in bandages.

‘This? It’s nothing. Just a hunting accident’ Emmett explained and you recalled Nora telling you that he had been away for several days with two of his friends causing a major fight between Nora and him.

You haven’t seen Nora since and what she didn’t tell you that day was that, following the fight, she decided to take a break from their marriage.

Nora was your supervisor at the hospital where you were doing your work experience hours and she was rather difficult to deal with whenever she and her husband had a fight. She loved him and he loved her, but in recent months their marriage was going through some ups and downs and you could see that she was obviously needing some time to revaluate matters.

‘Did Nora take a look at it. The bandage needs to be changed. It doesn’t look right Emmett’ you said concerned as you took his hand into yours, evaluating his injury. You had done about three units of nursing before changing over to midwifery in your course.

‘Nora is out of town, visiting her sister’ he explained and you couldn’t help but give Emmett a sorry look. They were fighting again you thought and it had become a frequent occurrence.

‘Perhaps when she comes back, I should look after Henry and Max again for you guys and you can take her out on a date or something’ you suggested. You frequently babysat for Nora and Emmett to make some extra money.

‘The truth is that we are taking a break for now. But, if things change, I would gladly accept your offer’ Emmett smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. In your opinion he was a nice and incredibly attractive man. He was also a fantastic father to Max and this was something you picked up on immediately when you first met him several years ago through Evelyn and Lee whose children you also frequently babysat.

You also knew that Nora and him had met over twenty years ago. They were high school sweethearts. Everyone saw them both as the perfect couple but their relationship was far from being perfect.

Just over a year ago you heard rumours that, about two years ago, Nora had a short-lived affair but Emmett forgave her. He was a family man and valued his marriage. His sons were everything to him and leaving them would never have been option for Emmett.

He was incredible and you found it difficult to admit to yourself that, over the past two years, you were developing a little a crush on him.

***

About an hour later, the game had finished and you suggested to Emmett that he comes to your house so that you could have a look at his hand.

Your house was a short five-minute walk from the baseball field and Emmett agreed reluctantly after you told him that your mother wasn’t home.

He knew what state your mother was in and he would not have exposed his sons to her constant swearing and antics when she was drunk.

When you arrived at your house, Emmett’s sons and your brother went to play outside in the garden with your brother’s new soccer ball which you had bought him for his birthday while you looked through the medicine cabinet to find some more bandages and some betadine.

‘Have you considered admitting her to rehab?’ Emmett asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, besides which was a large plastic box with several empty bottles of spirits.

‘That’s the plan. I want to take Lucas to Georgia as soon as she is in rehab’ you explained as you carefully removed Emmett’s bandage.

‘This will hurt’ you then went on to say before cleaning his wound and applying some betadine.

‘Fuck’ he complained as you were rinsing out the wound and, after you were finally done cleaning it, you placed a fresh bandage over his hand.

‘You need to keep this clean alright?’ you said with your hands still holding on to his hand while you looked at him with a warm smile.

This was the first time you noticed how blue his eyes were, a shade of deep shimmering blue just as the sea and just as the depth of the ocean, you could get lost in them.

‘Thanks’ he nodded, not bothering to pull his hand away from you as you were staring at him.

‘Nora is one lucky woman’ you sighed as you finally collected your thoughts and let go of his hand.

‘Why? Because she finally is getting rid of me?’ Emmett laughed but knowing exactly what you meant.

‘No that’s not what I meant Emmett. In fact, I think she is crazy thinking about leaving a man like you’ you said shyly and with flushed cheeks as you looked down at his hand once again.

‘Right’ Emmett chuckled and, just as he did, you moved one of your hands over his cheeks.

‘Don’t doubt yourself Emmett’ you said before, slowly and tentatively pressing your lips onto his.

He didn’t retract, nor did he pull away as, for a short moment, he allowed the kiss. Your lips were soft and sweet and he couldn’t recall the last time another woman had kissed him.

Eventually, you broke the kiss at your own accord and Emmett looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. He was surprised by your actions and his eyes were full of questions.

‘I am so sorry’ you then shuddered while Emmett was still speechless.

‘I should go now’ he quickly said, unable to even look at you after what had just happened.

‘Emmett?’ you said as he got up from the chair next to yours. ‘I am sorry, really…I shouldn’t have’ you said somewhat flustered.

‘Y/N, it’s fine. Let’s just forget about it, aright?’ he smiled as he ran his hand over your shoulder in the way a friend would.

You nodded just before he left but the truth was that you couldn’t forget about it. This kiss stayed with you for the rest of the day.

***

Just as the evening had arrived and you were sitting in your bed, reading yet another novel you had borrowed from the library, you imagined yourself with Emmett.

This wasn’t right, you thought. You should not be thinking about him the way you did. He was a man twice your age. But you couldn’t help it and your imagination was running wild.

His lips were on yours, his fingers roaming over your body and you simply couldn’t go to sleep that night until you satisfied your needs with the small vibrator you kept in your beside table.

‘God damn Y/N’ your inner voice tried to reason. But you wouldn’t listen to it until you found your release that night which is when, finally, you drifted off to sleep.

 Tag List (Cillian):

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[blissfulparker]

A Work in progress→T.H

Parings: Tom Holland x Actress!reader

Summary: when You and Tom both have each other as a celebrity crush, you two unknowingly take on the role of each other’s lovers in a new movie and are expected to make it real. When the director puts the two of you in a house for the weekend to get to know each other there is little more to rehearsing than just your lines.

Warnings: awkwardness in the first half, smut(oral female), sexual tension

A/n: this is based off of a blurb I did, where it was just from a physical affection prompt list that I went off on! I hope you guys enjoy 💗

Wc: 4k

Tom didn’t know why he was so nervous as he opened the large glass doors to the conference building. His palms were sweaty as he walked alone rather than with his brother and assistant Harry.

He loved working on new projects, new films, meeting new people but the scare of not knowing the new people made him nervous. At this point he normally would be able to get some sort of name, do some research on said person but this time they gave him nothing but a script.

The script was more of a love story. a serious role but one where he could be more seductive and serious, he could let go of the goofy teenager character he seemed to be stuck with.

His character, Jack, who would be the corrupt business man who falls for the one trying to bring down his company, the main female protagonist, Beth.

The meeting started at 10:00. Always being early he seemed to see someone else was too. You stand in front of the coffee machine, trying to get it to work as you waited for the meeting to start—or at least people to come in.

“Oi let me help you with that—“ he offers but a small Yelp comes from your mouth as you quickly turn around and hit your head against the British accented stranger.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! You scared me half to death—“ you hold your head as you look up, a wave of heat washes over your body and you don’t know if it was just because you hit your head hard enough or if it was because you finally figured out who you were working with.

“I should’ve said something else first, I’m so sorry—“ fuck. He thinks as he looks at you. You who managed to make a way onto the list of celebrities he wants to work with. You who also made it on the list of celebrities he wants to date.

The fans knew quickly he had a tiny crush on you. As he once liked a fan edit of the two of you on the read carpet. He seemed to be one of the firsts to like your Instagram photos and even mentioning your name in an interview saying how pretty you were.

You were the same, with smaller fame of course. You along with half of the other population who enjoyed marvel movies and dorky characters, you fell in love with the curly haired British boy. Finding him extremely talented and a heartthrob of course, you quickly dreamt about working with him but laughed about it never coming true.

Now he was in front of you. His chin red from where your head collided with it and he only stares at you in response.

The awkward silence quickly filled as the two of you tried and laugh off the interaction.

“Tom—“

“(Y/n)—“ you both say your names at the same time. Him going in for a handshake and you going in for an awkward hug. The two of you stop and laugh it off before deciding a simple handshake was the way to go. You had never wanted to quit your entire career more than now.

“Oh! Perfect!” Finally as the tension was cut the director walked into the room. Two people followed behind and you took a deep breath already nervous for the new film and exactly what Toms role was. As far as you read, the main female character, who you were to be playing, had to be in lingerie a few times in front of the main male character. There were also sex scenes, plenty of kiss scenes and sexual tension. You were fit for the character but you were not fit for Tom. All your fantasies about him were just fantasies.

“I see the two of you have already met. But If not, (y/n) meet Tom, Tom meet (y/n) you two will be working together for the next few months as I’m sure you are aware of your roles. (Y/n) will be playing the lover and spy where Tom you will be playing the businessman. I’m sure we already know our positions…” the director starts and you swallow hard.

Tom doesn’t know if you’re looking or not to see the pink shade coming to his cheeks and making him hot. You were just an actress, he thought, an actress who just had to play the role. He was an actor as well, he reminds himself. A very good one for the fact so he didn't want to mess this up all because of one silly crush.

“We want to put you two in a house together.” The director claps his hands together making you nearly spit out the coffee you had in front of you. Tom's head snaps to look at you as you cough a bit trying to digest the words.

“You want us to live together?” Tom speaks for you it seems.

“We only want to see your chemistry! The fans, the academy, loves chemistry! Trust me, people will love the movie but they will not care if they see just two other actors acting to be in love. Not really caring you know? We want to see you guys build a bond, passion, some sort of love even if you lie to us about it to make it believable. Run through your lines, skinny dip with each other for all we care we just want to see passion!” You feel like his words are turning into a dream as he speaks. You feel your heart pounding at his words and try your hardest to keep your calm.

“And where will we be going?” You finally find the strength to speak. If it was anyone else you would not care, reminding yourself you are a good actress and have acted like you wanted to fuck a man you hate. But this was a man you actually wanted to fuck, a man you actually wanted real passion with.

“We rented you two a flat in spain,” he mentions, right, where you’ll be shooting, you think. “It’s only three days and if you want more we will give you more if you don’t we will let you free. Every expense is paid for, go to dinner, have wine, everything will be on the film. This is both of your chances at big awards this year. This is for you and for us.” You could almost feel Toms body heat as he was just as nervous as you, you didn’t know why though. He was the heartthrob, he was the actor that was wanted left and right, this was your big chance at a movie that can skyrocket your career.

The next hour feels torturous as all you could think about was what this house looked like for the two of you. Did it have two rooms? Two bathrooms? Why did your head hit his chin? Is there a bump? What if he hates you? What if he’s secretly seeing someone and just doesn’t want to announce it? All thoughts ran through your head as you had to make this your best acting gig yet. Except the most acting might be pretending not to love Tom the way you do.

-

Three days. That’s all it was. You would spend three days in whatever this house looked like and all you would have to do is pretend to get to know Tom. All while trying not to expose how much you truly like him.

There were rumors he had a crush on you, of course you saw the interview and noticed how he liked your pictures but you also knew his co-stars from Spider-Man so your thoughts were friendly.

Taking an Uber to the destination, you pull up to this beautiful Italian cottage. Gorgeous stone walls and large driveway, If there was one emotion to be real about this entire thing, it would be that you were spoiled with this house.

You were already nervous as people started to catch on through social media, his fans seeming to know his constant move now quickly knowing yours.

‘Stars (y/n) (y/l/n) and Tom Holland possibly take on a new film with one another: here’s what we know’

‘Why is Tom in Italy?’ ‘Is (y/n) in Italy?’ ‘Rumor is they are filming together soon’

Your heart rushed with comments you had read. Maybe this wasn’t for you, maybe you should stay with doing small movies where you were a side character or something simple. Keep the small amount of followers you had compared to Toms 40 million.

As you go up to knock on the door wondering if he’s already beat you to the place, the door opens and reveals the sight of Tom.

Another Yelp escapes your lips as you jump at Tom opening the door so quickly.

“If we’re living together I think you should hold off on scaring me.” You take a deep breath. His hair was wet, he was fresh out of a shower.

“Sorry darling! They told me your flight landed at 2:00 and well...it’s 2:00 so you aren’t supposed to be here until like 3:00.” He claims and you take a deep breath. Three days, you remind yourself, don’t mess it up.

“Oh…” you swallow.

“Not that I didn’t want to see you! It’s nice to see you again, you look really nice!” He says as you wear the sweats and the sweatshirt from the airport. “Let me help you with those.” He grabs your bags for you and you smile letting him take it. He leans in just close enough for you to smell the aftershave he put on, his muscles flex as he grabs your bags making this all the harder for you.

The night was young, fans already knew, this was your shot at making it big, Tom's shot of winning an Oscar, you two needed to work together. Pushing aside the worried one sided emotion and be able to make a movie that blows people away

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen. It was now late, you were starving, you and Tom already getting to know each other but it was strange.

“No, I mean the most I’ve done for a chemistry read is take the person out to dinner.” He laughs a little and then runs a hand through his hair. “Speaking of dinner...should we grab something or make something. Unless you had plans of your own then that’s totally fine—“ he starts to ramble and you laugh.

“I cannot cook, so unless you can I prefer to pick something up.” You cut him off to make sure he doesn’t go on and on.

“Have you ever pizza from Italy before?” He asks and you lean against the counter.

“I’ve never been in Italy before.” You shrugged and he grew a smirk. He turns on his heels as if he already has an idea.

“Then I know a place.” He walks out of the room to grab his phone.

You feel your heart pounding as you check your phone. You made a mistake by opening your Twitter, 10k new followers, 50k mentions and plenty more all regarding Tom. You only hoped he wasn’t the type to use Twitter as it was flooded with people wanting you guys to be together.

Your mind swarms with the thought of your character again. Soon you’d have to stand in front of your celebrity crush, half naked, trying to seduce him. It was going to be more awkward if you guys were friends.

“Are you coming?” He calls out and you quickly shove your phone in your back pocket before grabbing your purse to go.

Three days and you feel like you’re already going to snap.

-

It was a lovely little place he brought you to. You didn’t know If he’d come to Italy often but he clearly knew a decent way around the city. The two of you sat in the corner of a dimly lit Italian restaurant, sharing pizza and feeling more comfortable with each other as the night went on. He was just another person, you thought, nothing to worry about.

“We didn’t order any wine.” You stop the server as he pours both you and Tom a glass. Tom already drunk off of the beer he had and you only enjoying his presence.

“Ah it’s on the house, such a lovely couple in such a lovely city! You two should have fun!” The server winks. You almost protest to stop him telling him that you and Tom were nearly just coworkers stuck in a house for three days.

But rather Tom thanks the server and takes the glass. Your heart pounding as you pick up the glass as well, the boys eyes already red from how much he’s had already and you can tell you have to take him home.

“You know I was nervous to be working with you.” He took a sip before setting it down. “When I saw you I was like ‘shit this is happening’ and freaked out.” He admitted and you try to hold back the butterflies in your stomach.

“You freaked out for working with me?” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Well look at you, you’re gorgeous! Anyone would be lucky to work with you, as your lover as well.” He falls back into the booth and stares at the décor on the ceiling.

“So you read all the scenes?” You ask and he nodded.

“Of course i did! I only improve when I feel like it.” He shrugs, taking another sip.

“You said you’re method too.” You remember from one interview you watched years ago. Your voice was more of a whisper, more to yourself but he grows a soft smirk as he turns his head to face you.

“So you watched my interviews.” He says feeling cocky. You roll your eyes taking another sip of wine yourself to hopefully drown out the embarrassment you just gave yourself.

“As if I don’t see you being the first to like my posts, Holland.” You avoid eye contact and rather look around the room but Tom only focuses on you.

When you catch his eyes they’re sober, this whole time he was telling stories in a drunken state and now he looks at you with glossy soft eyes as if he wants to hear more.

“So you see me liking your posts?” He teases and you finally look at him.

“I see everyone liking my posts. Why do you follow me?” You challenge and he holds back a smirk.

“You’re friends with Z, why do you follow me?” He asks back and you feel yourself straighten.

“Z is friends with a lot of people, I don’t see you following all of them?” You argue and he falls back into the booth again with a soft chuckle.

“So not only do you follow me but you stalk me?” He teases and you groan.

“Not what I meant.” You see how much wine you have left, not a lot as your nerves filled you and the wine didn’t calm you. “You liked a fan edit of us a year ago. We’ve never met until a few days ago.” You rest your head on your hand that props itself up against the table. That’s what makes him lose his game, he turns a light shade of red before quickly straightening himself up.

“You’re talented, why don’t we see more of you?” He asks about your roles.

“You’re about to see everything in a few days.” You mumble and he chokes on his wine.

Page 281

*Beth removes her robe in front of Jack, slowly stalking towards him wearing the tight black lingerie* *she crawls on top of his sleepy figure and points a gun*

It was embarrassing that such a scene turned him on after finding out who it was with. After finding out it was you, he read over every single sex scene, strip scene, makeout scene to make sure everything was real.

“Oh relax.” You hold back a smile. “You’re the Method actor, remember?” You tease. He leans forward, he’s not sure how he’s gotten so confident but he takes your glass and drinks from it before setting it down.

“Yeah, I am. We should rehearse some things, get more comfortable.” He suggests and you look at him up and down. His lips slightly stained reddish pink from the wine, his skin damp from how hot the room was, and he looked at you as if no one else was in the room.

“And where should we start?” You swallow, you can’t get shy now. You’ve dreamt about this moment and now it’s happening.

“Well, if we’re starting with their meeting, I think it would go something like this.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on your neck. You’re frozen as his lips are soft and warm, he pulls back and realizes what he’s done. His thoughts of you, his crush on you, the warm alcohol that ran through his blood all while being in Italy got the best of him.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done—“ he started and you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to kiss lips. His eyes go wide softly as if he was a school boy getting his first kiss.

“More wine?” The waiter comes back and Tom snaps out of it for a split second.

“We’ll take the check.”

-

Your hands tangled in with his messy hair, his shirt already off as he was warm from the summer heat Italy provided. His lips trail down from your lips to your neck as he plays with the strings of the summer dress you wore.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” His words mumbled into your chest as he lets the shoulders of your dress fall.

“Why? You want to admit you have a crush on me now?” you teased and when he looks up his eyes are darker. The sweet chocolate puppy dog eyes before now darkened as his lips were swollen and his face was hot. His hands rest at your hips with a tight grip as he wants more.

“You admitted to stalking my interviews and who i follow so i should be asking you that question.” he teased and you rolled your eyes. Your Only respond by pushing his head back into your chest where he planted soft kisses trailing down.

“So soft,” he takes off the bra you wore. Hes thought about this moment but would never admit it. Hes thought about how soft your skin is and how you looked under his touch with his head in between your legs—

“Do something tom.” you groan as he is on his knees for you. Your dress bunched at your waist, all exposed for him as he takes off the black lace underwear you wore under the dress.

“All for me?” he asks and your head hits the back of the wall, your hands go to his hair and he kisses gently at your thigh. “Say something, darling.” darling, you think about the way he says that word. The simple nickname that made you melt. Darling, that was going to be the death of you.

“Y-yes!” you find the words. “I-I don’t think this is apart of the script though.” You still try and be playful and just below your eyes you can see he has a playful and cocky smirk.

“This,” his thumb rubs at your clit as he looks up. His lips cherry red and his smirk is full view to you as he sees your eyes flutter shut as your head was thrown back. “This is where I improve.” he replaces his thumb with his tongue as he pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Your hands grip his hair as you moan his name, his name that you thought of so many times before this in your dreams.

Your knees go weak as his one hand pins your hips against the wall and his other fingers thrusted in and out of you while his tongue works at your clit.

“Tommy!” The nickname slipped, you didn’t mean it but you imagined it sometimes long before you met him and just had a crush.

“Huh darling? Like that? Want to cum?” His words horse and his accent thicker. “That’s right...” he almost laughs as he can see how much you’re whimpering. “Cum for me.”

You fall under his touch with soft moans leaving your lips. The wave of euphoria washes over you and you struggle to open back up your eyes and come back to reality.

He comes back up to face you, this time you have a thin layer of sweat over your forehead and your chest rises as you catch your breath. You take Tom's fingers and take them into your mouth. Acting as if it were him in your mouth you work your tongue around his finger before taking them out with a pop.

His eyes stare and he almost winces at how hard he is. How hard you've made him.

“This is going to be the best damn movie i've ever filmed.” he nearly whispers as you bite down on your lip before pulling him back into your lips.

This was going to be the best six months of your life.

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