#and before anyone argues that pla is a side game

[4stars-uswnt]

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes [Tierna Davidson x Reader]

requested by anon: Idk if you’re taking requests or not but could you do a tierna x reader where reader’s kinda reserved and the team doesn’t know her super well but her and baby t just bond together and one gets the courage to ask the other out. And maybe they like hide their relationship just to mess with the team or something cause they were trying to set them up. If not then it’s perfectly fine. You’re a great writer!!

A/N: thanks anon! i honestly don’t know how this got so long... oops

You hesitantly make your way down the aisle of the bus, unsure where to seat, given that this was only your fourth camp and you didn’t necessarily have a designated seat.

Spotting an empty spot next to Tierna, you sheepishly ask, “Hey, is anyone sitting here?”

“Nope,” she gives you a kind smile, glancing up from her phone. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, a small smile of your own tugging at your lips.

As you’re putting in your ear buds and turning on your music, Tierna curiously watches you. “So how you liking the team so far?”

“I love it. It’s honestly better than I could’ve imagined. Everyone here is so nice and welcoming and so willing to teach,” you ramble slightly nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

Ever since you’d gotten your first call up last year, your nerves hadn’t calmed down at all. You were a naturally reserved and quiet person, but being around the best players in the world only intensified your nervousness.

Given your shyness, none of your teammates knew that much about you. The only one who knew anything about, apart from your position, your hometown, and where you currently reside, was Alyssa. The veteran goalkeeper had taken you under her wing when you went pro at just nineteen and joined the Red Stars. The two of you immediately bonded, forming a sort of big sister-little sister relationship, as you were both so similar in the way you carried yourself on and off the field. So when you got your first national team call up, Alyssa was the one to show you the ropes and help you make the transition.

And although you played on the same NWSL team as Tierna, you’d never actually had a real conversation with the other woman, so neither of you knew each other at all.

“Yeah, it’s an incredible environment,” the defender agrees. “It really does become like one giant family.”

“Hopefully, I’ll stick around long enough to become a part of that.” You anxiously chew your lip. Being on the national team has been a dream of yours ever since you could remember, and now that you are presented with the opportunity, you were scared you were gonna do something to mess it up.

“I have a feeling you will,” Tierna muses, smirking. You can’t tell if she’s flirting with you or if she’s just being nice, but either way your face flushed red.

The three hour bus ride went by seemingly quick, as you and Tierna engaged in an easy flowing conversation, talking about topics ranging from the basic introductions to the incredible cinematography of The Queen’s Gambit.

You find yourself becoming increasingly comfortable and relaxed around the other woman, and you feel this is the start of a wonderful friendship.

—————

After a quick team meeting upon arriving to the hotel, Vlatko starts to announce roommates and distribute room keys.

“Tierna and (Y/N),” he calls out, giving Tierna two key cards.

“Looks like we’re roomies,” she beams, as she hands your key.

“Looks like it.” You grin, excited at the idea of spending more time with the defender.

Both of you were pretty tired, especially after a long day of traveling, so you each quickly jump in the shower and change into your pajamas.

As you slide into bed, Tierna, already under the covers, grabs the TV remote. “Anything you wanna watch?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You shrug, as you pull the blankets over your body. “Have you seen the docuseries on Netflix about the Challenger?” You ask, remembering her passion for space and aeronautics.

“I haven’t,” Tierna gasps. “Can we watch it?”

Your heart warms at the sight of her pure eagerness. “Of course! I’ve been meaning to watch it for a while too.”

You quickly set up your laptop, connecting it so that your screen projects onto the TV.

As the episode progresses, Tierna spits out additional facts about the Challenger as well as NASA itself, and you can’t help but listen in awe and admiration.

The two of you barely make it through two episodes, as the hours of travel catch up to you and sleep takes over.

—————

It was the last day of camp, and you and Tierna had grown quite close, bonding over being the youngest on the teams as well as your similar interests.

You’d discovered that, when not playing soccer of course, you both enjoyed going on hikes, reading with a cup of coffee, and also relaxing at the end of the day with a good TV series.

She’d also given you some insight on how she adjusted to being on the national team at such a young age, something you were having trouble doing. It’s not that your skill level wasn’t up to par; you were just finding it difficult to put yourself out there and connect with the rest of the women. And just maybe your newfound friendship with Tierna would be just what you needed to open up to the rest of the team.

Over the past couple of days, as you’d gotten to know the defender, you couldn’t develop feelings for the other woman.

So here you were, packing up your hotel room, as you worked up the courage to ask Tierna out. At the moment, the freckled woman was currently rambling about some new book she’d found, but you were to stuck in your own head to really pay attention.

“(Y/N)?” Tierna pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You shake your head, turning to see an amused smile on Tierna’s face.

“Did you hear anything I was just saying?”

“Umm, yes?” You try sheepishly.

Tierna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. It’s alright. You can make it up to me by reading the book I was talking about. And by the way it’s about a depressed neuroscientist at Stanford.”

“Sounds peachy,” you groan, earning a chuckle from the defender.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you mumble, shrugging.

“Come on, what’s bothering you?” She asks, as she sits down next to you, lightly elbowing your side.

You take a deep breath, gathering all the courage in the world, before asking, “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like grab some coffee or dinner when we’re back in Chicago?”

Tierna stills, her eyes widening, as her brain tries to process your question. “What?”

“I’m asking you on a date, T,” you clarify, feeling a new wave of confidence take over. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

A gigantic grin breaks out Tierna’s face. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

—————

About six months later, you’d received another national team call up, and so had your girlfriend.

After last camp, you and Tierna went out to dinner at a restaurant back in Chicago, and from then on, you began dating. It helped that you both played for the Red Stars, getting to spend more time together and not having to worry about the trouble of a long distance relationship.

However, the two of you decided to keep your relationship under wraps, not feeling the need to announce or flaunt it. In fact, in public, your relationship didn’t really change, and to most people, it looked as if the two of you were just best friends.

But Alyssa had known you well enough to see that you definitely had a crush on the younger defender, and to be fair, you did, but the goalie didn’t know that you were already dating.

The Red Stars training before the national team players left for camp, Alyssa decided to see if anyone else shared the same suspicions.

“Hey, J!” she calls out, catching up to the blonde midfielder.

“What’s up, Lys?”

“Do you think there’s something between (Y/N/N) and Tierna?”

“What do you mean?” Julie furrows her brows, confused.

Alyssa gives her friend a pointed glare, nodding her head in the direction of where you were leaning your head on Tierna’s shoulder, giggling at something your girlfriend had said.

“Ah, I see,” Julie muses, nodding her head in realization. “Are they together?”

“Nope, at least I don’t think so. I’m sure (Y/N) would’ve mentioned something.”

“Well, should we help them get their head’s out of the butts and try and set them up?” The midfielder proposes.

“Camp is this weekend…” Alyssa smirks, as the two women share a knowing look.

“Kelley’s gonna have a field day with this,” Julie chuckles.

—————

After morning training the next day, the team split off into groups, as they head into town to grab a bite to eat, do some shopping, or just walk around the streets of Santa Barbara.

A group of the veterans decided to try out a cute little cafe they’d seen. As they were all sitting around the table, sipping their coffee and eating some pastries, Julie decided to bring up the subject of their two favorite team babies.

“So, have you guys noticed anything going on between (Y/N) and Tierna?”

Conversation stopped, the entire table going silent.

“Wha?” Kelley asks, her voice muffled by the food in her mouth. “(Y/N/N) and Baby T?”

“Kel, please swallow your food,” Christen requests, cringing at the defender.

“Sorry.” The freckled woman gulps down her bite of her croissant. “But Tierna and (Y/N)?”

“You don’t see it?” Alyssa raises her eyebrow, surprised that she might be the only one who saw the chemistry between you two.

“Aren’t they just best friends?” Tobin chimes in on the conversation.

“That’s what people always said about you and Chris until they got their heads out of their asses,” Ash snorts, pointing between the two forwards.

“Fair point.”

“Now that I think about it,” Christen hums. “They do act very couple-y.”

“And Tierna is really the only one that (Y/N) hangs out with, besides Alyssa,” Pinoe points out, as the others nod in agreement.

“True, though she is warming up to the rest of us,” Julie lightly argues.

“So do we have a plan?”

The rest of the table just stares blankly at Kelley, who rolls her eyes.

“A plan to get them together?” She clarifies, as if to say ‘duh.’

“Well, that’s what I thought we could discuss.” The blonde midfielder suggests, sparking the discussion of how to get the two youngsters together.

Meanwhile, as the veterans were scheming, you and your girlfriend were taking a walk along the beach, your hands laced together, as your bare feet sunk into the sand.

“I hear you might start in the match versus England,” Tierna smirks at the shy blush that creeps up your neck.

You duck your head and brush a loose strand of hair of your face. “I don’t know. Our midfield is already so stacked, so I don’t know why Vlatko would start me.”

“Hey.” Tierna stops walking, stepping in front of you, halting your movement as well. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a phenomenal player, one of our best middies, at only twenty-one years old I might add.”

“You have to say that.” You bashfully roll your eyes. “You’re my girlfriend.”

“That I am,” Tierna proudly states, as she kisses your cheek. “But seriously, (Y/N/N), you’re amazing and you’re here for a reason. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Thank you, babe.” You lean in to give her a chaste kiss before bringing her in for a hug.

The two of you decide to walk back up to the sidewalk and sit on one of the benches that overlook the beach. After a couple of minutes of peaceful silence, you remember something Alyssa had mentioned to you a couple days ago.

“I think Lys might know we’re dating.” You raise your head from your girlfriend’s chest to look up at her.

“Hm,” Tierna hums, not looking concerned or fazed, only curious. “Did she something to you?”

“The other day she asked me if I had feelings for you.” You snuggle back into your girlfriend’s body, comforted by the fact that she didn’t seem to be freaking out about the possibility of one of your teammates knowing. “Well actually, her exact words were: ‘Do you have a crush on Tierna?’”

“And what did you say?”

“I said ‘yes,’” you mumble, your cheeks tint pink.

“What was that?” Tierna teases.

“I told her ‘yes’ I have a crush on you.”

“Aw, babe,” she coos, tapping your nose. “I have a crush on you too.”

All you can do is scrunch your face and stick out your tongue at your girlfriend and her antics.

“Do you think we should tell the team we’re dating?”

“Words probably gotten around that you have feelings for me, and seeing how we’re ‘best friends,’ knowing them, they’re already probably devising a plan to get us together.” Tierna shrugs, lightly chuckling.

Though you hadn’t been on the team as long as the defender, you knew she was most likely right.

“Well, who are we to stop their fun?” You say with a small smirk on your face.

Your girlfriend raises her eyebrow at you, surprised by your uncharacteristic boldness and mischievousness.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Tierna softly kisses the top of your head.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s presence, the calm waves crashing in the background, before you have to return to the hotel for team dinner.

—————

As you and your girlfriend were off on a brief romantic walk, the rest of the team, who had been recruited by the Kelley, had been finalizing their plan to set you and Tierna up on a date, so you can confess your feelings.

“So,” Kelley, the leader of this operation, announces. “Tomorrow, when we have dinner off, Alyssa, you’ll ask (Y/N) if she wants to grab a bite to eat, and Casey and Abby, and whichever youngsters wanna tag along, will bring Tierna out to dinner.

“The rest of us will grab a table in the backroom so we can see them without being seen. Everybody got it?”

They all nod along, voicing their agreement.

“Awesome,” Ash cheers and claps her hand together. “What do you think Lys?”

“I think it’s good, hopefully it works.” Alyssa nods, quickly glancing at her phone. “I also think we better head back for dinner before Vlatko sends out a search party.”

The rest of the women check the time, their eyes widening, as they all scramble out of their seats, rushing to make it back in time for team dinner.

—————

The next day, at the end of training, many of your teammates, mainly Kelley and Sonnett, were anxious about their upcoming blind date they’d set up for you and Tierna.

“Gosh, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” Kelley groans dramatically, watching from across the field, as you and your girlfriend were leaning on each other, laughing at something you’d said.

“How can they be so oblivious?” Tobin shakes her head, following her friend’s gaze.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Megan snorts, as she approaches the two women.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Chris had heart eyes for you for like three years before you actually noticed.”

“That’s different,” Tobin protests, earning a laugh from her two teammates.

“It’s really not.” Kelley clasps the forward’s shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“But we’ve learned.” Pinoe boasts with a pointed look.

Tobin just tilts her head and furrows her head in confusion, not following along.

“Oh, Toby.” The freckled defender slings her arm around Tobin’s shoulder, as they make their way back to the bus. “After being tortured by you and Press’s oblivious pining for many many years, the team collectively decided that when two teammates develop obvious feelings for each other, we’d put our own dignities aside and get them together.”

“Hence, our dinner plans for Tierna and (Y/N),” Megan finishes.

“You guys are all crazy,” Tobin says with a light-hearted roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, but you love us,” Kelley chirps before skipping off to catch up with Alex on the bus, leaving the two forwards chuckling at their teammates playful behavior.

—————

After hopping out of the shower and getting dressed, you decide to text Tierna to see if she wants to grab some dinner.

(Y/N/N):

Hey, you wanna grab some dinner?

I think I saw a taqueria that looked good :)

T 🤍 :

Sorry, babe :/

Casey already asked me to get dinner with  Abby  and Sam.

(Y/N/N):

Aw man, okay.

Stop by after?

T 🤍 :

Of course

I’ll see you later :)

You give the message a heart, before shutting off your phone. As you contemplate what you’re gonna do for lunch, there’s a knock on your door.

“(Y/N/N),” you hear Alyssa’s muffled voice. “It’s Alyssa.”

“Come in!” You call back.

The goalie saunters into your room and plops on your bed. “You wanna grab some dinner?”

“Yeah,” you beam. “I saw a Mexican place downtown that looked good.”

“Hmmm, I had tacos for dinner last night,” Alyssa hums, pretending to think it over, even though she already has a restaurant in mind. “Tobin mentioned a good Japanese place they ate yesterday. We could try that?”

“I could go for Japanese,” you agree. “You wanna head out now?”

“Yeah, I’m down.” Alyssa jumps up from the bed, as you gather your things, following her out the door.

The two of you make light conversation, as you walk through the streets of Santa Barbara, enjoying the warm evening air.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, the hostess leads you to a table by the window, but as you sit down, Alyssa remains standing.

“I just have to run to the bathroom real quick,” she tells you. “If they come by to order drinks, could I get a lemonade?”

“Of course.” You nod, before scanning the menu.

While you think Alyssa is going to the restroom, she is actually going to text Casey that you’re sitting at the table near the window.

After a couple minutes, you hear footsteps approaching, which you think is the waitress coming to take your drink order.

“Hey, funny seeing you here.”

You immediately snap your head up when you hear your girlfriend’s voice.

“T, what are you doing here?” You ask, obviously quite surprised, as Tierna sits down in the chair across from you.

“Well, I was supposed to meet the girls here, and they just they’d be at the table by the window,” she chuckles amusedly. “Obviously our teammates are setting us up, not that I’m complaining.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing smirk on your girlfriend’s face. “Yeah, Lys brought me here for lunch. I didn’t think it was in her to be a part of their little matchmaking plans.”

“Alyssa is full of surprises.” Tierna shrugs, as she picks up the menu to look at it for herself.

“Aint’ that the truth,” you laugh.

As the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, deciding what you wanted to eat, you spot a familiar head of purple hair out of the corner of your eye.

“I think we’re being spied on,” you whisper, leaning forward in your seat.

“Huh?”

“Pinoe’s pink hair is a dead give away,” you slightly nod your head towards the back room of the restaurant.

Tierna turns her head to subtly scan the room, and then lets out an amused chuckle. “So how are we gonna play this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, since they’re watching us, do we wanna play into their hands or should we mess with them a little?”

“We could do a little bit of both?” You propose, earning an impressed grin from your girlfriend.

Before Tierna can respond, the waitress comes by to take your orders.

—————

“What can you see?” Sonnett shouts from the other end of the table.

“Keep it down, Sonny,” Kelley scolds, swatting the younger defender’s arm. “But, P, seriously, what’s going on?”

“They’re just talking, laughing occasionally,” Pinoe reports, as she cranes her neck to see the table in the other room. “From what I can see, no sparks are flying yet.”

“Gosh, this is painful. We need to move them along,” Kelley whines, before her eyes widen and her eyes light up, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “I have an idea.”

“Oh no,” Christen groans. “This should be good.”

The freckled defender just waves her hand, ignoring her friend’s comment. “Just you wait and see. This is gonna work.”

The team has to wait a couple more minutes until the waitress comes back to refill their waters for Kelley’s plan to unfold.

“Excuse me,” Kelley calls over to the waiter, briefly glancing at her name tag. “Virginia, could I order some dessert?”

“Of course.”

“I’d like to get one slice of your cheesecake, please. And if I could ask for a favor?”

The waitress nods with a polite smile.

“Would you deliver it to my two friends over there sitting by the window?”

“Aren’t those your teammates?” Virginia turns to see where Kelley’s pointing.

“Yeah, we’re trying to set them up. So if you could just say it’s on the house or something, we don’t really want them to know we’re here.”

The waitress just chuckles, as she shuts her notepad. “Of course.”

“Oh, wait,” Kelley stops her one more time. “If you’re cool with it, maybe you could flirt with one of them, maybe say the cheesecake is from you?”

Virginia pauses for a second to contemplate her options, before ultimately agreeing. “Fine, but only if I can get your friend’s number over there.” She smirks and points over to where Emily’s sitting, sipping on a glass of wine.

“Deal, but only if my friends over there get together by the end of the night.”

Virginia just smirks, as she leaves to continue her job and get a slice of cheesecake.

—————

You and Tierna took advantage of the date your teammates had set up for you, enjoying some delicious rolls and a bowl of udon. Even though your teammates were technically in the backroom watching, you and your girlfriend enjoyed a nice evening to yourselves.

As you’re finishing up your meal, the waitress comes over with a slice of cheesecake and places it down in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You move to return the dessert. “I didn’t order any dessert.”

“I know, cutie,” Virginia flirts. “That’s from me, on the house.”

“I- I, um.” You blush, flustered, while Tierna shoots silent daggers at the waitress. “I’m flattered, but I actually have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waitress apologizes, glancing between the two of you. “Is this your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am,” Tierna answers, hints of jealousy lacing her voice, as you give a sheepish nod.

“Ah I see,” Virginia observes, amused, knowing that the other group of soccer players were going to be quite shocked. “Well, I’m sorry, again, for hitting on you. Keep the dessert as an apology?”

“Everything’s forgotten,” you amend with a kind smile. “Thank you for the cheesecake.”

As the waitress turns to leave, she suggests, “Maybe you guys can share? I’m trying to win a bet.”

Before you or Tierna can respond, Virginia gives both of you a knowing smirk, as she takes your plates and goes back to the kitchen.

“What does that mean?” You tilt your head and push the plate of cheesecake towards the middle of the table.

“I assume that our teammates probably had something to do with that whole scene,” Tierna guesses, shrugging, as she takes a bite of the dessert. “Mmmmm, but thank goodness they did because this cheesecake is delicious.”

“Oooooo, let me try!”

As you and your girlfriend share the slice of fluffy cheesecake, your teammates were waiting for something to happen.

“Anything?” Alyssa asks impatiently. The goalie had been becoming increasingly agitated, because she had seriously thought there was something between you two.

“Not yet,” Kelley sighs. By now, the rest of the team had lost interest and decided to just enjoy their night out.

“Oh wait!” Pinoe gasps, holding her hand up to get everybody else’s attention. The pink-haired forward watched intensely, as you leaned in closely to Tierna, who was holding out her fork with a bite of cheesecake for you.

“Baby T just fed (Y/N/N) a bite of cheesecake. I repeat, Baby T just fed (Y/N/N) a bite of cheesecake!” Megan exclaims. “It was the last slice, too!"

“And they are totally giving each other heart eyes right now,” Kelley adds, excitedly bouncing in her seat.

After a few minutes, as the team bubbles with anticipation to see what would happen next, Virginia returns to the table with the checks and hands it to Kelley.

“By the way, you owe me your friend’s number.”

“Um, I don’t think so. We don’t know for sure that they ended up together,” Kelley protests, as she passes the checks down the table.

“Yeah, we do, because they’re already together,” Virginia boasts and moves to collect the empty plates, smirking when she sees you and Tierna holding hands, as you make your way over to the team’s table.

“What? No, they’re not.” The defender frowns, not noticing her two youngest teammates.

“Yes, we are,” Tierna simply states, leading you out the backdoor, as you duck your head to hide your flushed cheeks.

“And, thanks for the cheesecake,” your girlfriend throws over her shoulder, leaving your teammates sputtering in shock with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“Well, that was fun,” you snicker, as you step outside.

“Yeah, it was,” Tierna agrees, kissing you cheek. “Now let’s go have some fun of our own.”

Laughing freely, you relax into your girlfriend’s side. You couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, now that the team knew about your relationship, and maybe this is the push you needed to open up to the women who would soon become your second family.

[voidwaren]

so it’s been an entirely unintentional five months since I last updated my Sterek fic, Oak and Mistletoe, but the starting scene for chapter six has been finished since I published chapter five and I figured I should at least put that bit up even if the following scene is being a monster to finish. (she real thicc and she’s only getting thiccer, because I don’t know how to shut up and let a scene end.)

anyway, if anyone happens to pop by here looking for what tf happened to that WIP, here’s the first scene of Oak and Mistletoe, chapter six, just for you:

He showed up three days later, arrogant as always, disdain for everyone in the general vicinity written all across his features, and completely alone.

London had done nothing for Jackson’s shitty attitude towards anything either not earning his approval or not worshipping the ground he walked on, and Stiles had found this out the hard way by barging into the loft on the day they were all scheduled to meet and figure out what the hell was going to happen, only to find Jackson borderline posing in front of the giant windows and left utterly to his own devices, which spelled nothing but trouble for Stiles and his big mouth.

“You’re still alive?” was Jackson’s chosen greeting upon noticing Stiles as he stumbled over the threshold of the door and into the room, spoken in such a way that the fact Stiles was still kicking was clearly something he considered to be a great dismay to his own livelihood. Apparently, Deaton had been very minimalistic with his reasoning to get Jackson back in America if he didn’t know Stiles was even alive anymore.

Or Jackson just being a dick. Which, honestly, would be very on-brand for Jackson anyway. He didn’t trek all the way back to America because he missed them, that much was certain.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Stiles countered drily, dusting himself off like he could brush away the fumble.

“It’s what you’re best at,” Jackson returned, sighing halfway through the sentence, with the most blithe tone Stiles was pretty sure he’d ever heard Jackson use. He turned his head slightly, like he was dismissing Stiles’ presence altogether, and it took a beat for Stiles to realize it was actually because Derek was coming down the stairs, and Jackson had heard him far before Stiles had and just hadn’t said anything. Stupid werewolves.

His back straightened slightly as soon as Derek was fully in the room, like, despite the fact Derek was not his alpha, Derek’s presence demanded the minute attention. Maybe it had something to do with their former relationship. Stiles didn’t care enough about Jackson to wonder much beyond that, though, so he didn’t.

Instead, he lifted a finger and, with the utmost of maturity, pointed accusingly at Jackson. “Douchebag McGee over here doesn’t know why we called him home. Also,” he tacked on quickly, flipping the pointer finger into a middle one without changing the subject of who he was directing the gesture at, “he wants me dead.”

Derek, only just barely having made it over to them by the time Stiles had stopped talking, crossed his arms and turned to Jackson. Before he could say anything, though, Jackson said, “I’m here because you went and got cursed, Stilinski.”

Stiles threw his arms wide in a “what the fuck” gesture. “What? Then why were you acting surprised that I’m alive?”

“Surprised?” Jackson scoffed. “That was disappointment and you know it. I had just hoped it had killed you before I got here.”

The noise of offense Stiles made in return would have done a valley girl proud. In the very least, it made Derek give him one of those half-alarmed looks that he outright ignored as he said, “Is that why it took you so damn long to call us back?”

“No,” Jackson corrected, rolling his eyes. “I had to locate the person you were looking for before I flew over. And, do you have any idea how long flights are from Britain to America? California, America?”

Stiles stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. Derek, who had been turning his attention back and forth between the two of them as they talked, continued to watch in silence.

“Wait,” Stiles said after he’d had a moment to process that. “Wait, wait, wait. You already knew who we were looking for?”

Jackson gave Derek a look. “Did you knock his head against a wall one too many times?” he asked, outright Stiles from the conversation. “I don’t remember him being this stupid.”

“No,” Derek offered. “That’s just his age catching up with him.”

“Then where is she, Jackson?” Stiles cut in through gritted teeth, one arm flying up between them like it could do anything to stop them from talking to one another like he wasn’t there.

Jackson sighed. “Do you really think she’d get here faster than me? I know you’ve seen a map before. Guess which country is closest to America in Europe. Go on,” he urged sarcastically, waving his hand in a pseudo-encouraging gesture, “guess.”

Stiles opened his mouth to tell Jackson just where exactly he’d be shoving that hand if Jackson didn’t stop taunting him, only to be thwarted by the loud arrival of Scott, Isaac, and Erica as they burst into the room, arguing profusely about something Stiles couldn’t discern as they overlapped each other without allowing any one sentence to be finished.

“Oh, good,” Jackson said with no small amount of sarcasm as Boyd quietly strode into the room a beat later, smirking at the cacophony the others were making, “everyone’s still alive, then?”

“Nice to see someone’s still a pompous asshat,” Erica greeted, halfway through whatever she’d been saying to Isaac and Scott, leaving both of them visibly blindsided.

Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but was overlapped by Scott when he looked around and said, “Wait. Where is everyone else?”

“Who are we missing?” a voice said from the door, and in strolled Lydia with Allison by her side. Allison raised her hand in a silent greeting, smiling at what was probably only Scott. “Hello, Jackson,” Lydia continued stiffly as her eyes locked onto him and her expression immediately flatlined into the same person she used to be before Allison arrived and cracked her shell.

“Lydia, Allison,” Jackson returned, clipped, but with an underlying vein of something Stiles most definitely wished he couldn’t detect. Unresolved feelings? Hell no. Stiles would sit that one out, thanks. Jackson pursed his lips for a moment as everyone in the room exchanged looks, counting out who might still be left before they got started retconning Jackson’s arrival and involvement, and then turned to Derek and said, “Where’s that creepy uncle of yours?”

“Definitely didn’t miss you,” the creepy uncle in question said as he plodded down the staircase like Jackson had summoned him. If Jackson had also heard him coming and was pretending he hadn’t, he didn’t look like it. If anything, he looked more than slightly put off that Peter was indeed accounted for. “Cora’s at work,” Peter continued as he joined the weird conglomeration they were creating in the main room of the loft, “so that should be everyone accounted for.”

“Who the hell is Cora?” Jackson asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said at the same time Scott said, “Derek’s little sister.”

“There are more of you alive?” Jackson said in legitimate surprise as Derek leveled Scott with a glare.

“Save it for later,” Derek ground out, clearly already aggravated by all the people in the room. “We have a matter at hand here, and Cora’s not necessary at the moment. We have to lay out the game plan while we have the time to and discuss what information Jackson got for us.”

“Wait,” Scott cut in, just as Jackson was opening his mouth. He shut it again with a click even Stiles heard, but Scott paid him no mind as he continued, “Where’s Deaton? Shouldn’t he be here?”

“He’s waiting for Morgan to show up, isn’t he?” Isaac said, but he sounded unsure of the fact.

“He is,” Derek confirmed, nodding his head at Isaac. Isaac nodded his head back, then made a face like he was just realizing that was a stupid move. Stiles did him the favor of not offering scathing commentary, just that once, and only because he was in the process of opening his mouth for another sentence.

“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know,” was the start of said sentence, spoken in a way that he hoped clearly articulated how he thought the fact they weren’t with Deaton was extremely useless, since they’d just have to rehash everything for the man who was basically in charge of them all, “wait for him? I thought we were meeting to discuss Morgan with Jackson.”

“We are,” Derek said, again in confirmation, because, apparently, that’s all he was good for right now. And then, as if sensing Stiles’ internal snark, he continued, “We don’t need Deaton for that.”

“We might need Deaton for that,” corrected Peter, and Derek just gave him a look. “What? The spaz has a point. Deaton’s taking the mantle of liaison from our lizard boy, he should probably be here if we’re talking about the very thing he’s going to be liaison of.”

Stiles fought a grimace. He never much enjoyed being on the same side as Peter, especially when it was the side with less support overall. He didn’t miss the way Jackson threw Peter a very pointed glare, clearly not happy with the nickname he’d been bestowed, though the fact Scott was standing between them dampened the effect just a little. Scott didn’t seem to be aware of his intrusion, and Peter ignored Jackson all the same.

“Jackson can relay his information to Deaton later,” Derek said.

Peter made a noise of annoyance and flung a hand in Jackson’s direction. “I’m sorry, we’re trusting that guy to handle something that could possibly wipe us off the map with one wrong move?”

“That guy?” Jackson repeated, affronted. He reached out and grabbed Scott’s shoulder, wrenching him out of the way, and Scott spluttered something incoherent as he stumbled into Isaac and nearly wiped out. “I don’t know if you noticed, old man, but I’m risking my skin just as much as you are. I’m the one who found her in the first place, and, let me tell you” —he barked a harsh laugh, and the sound was so very Jackson that Stiles almost had a moment of nostalgia before realizing just who exactly was inciting it— “that was neither fun nor easy, and I absolutely would not have done it if it was your ass on the line.”

“Charming,” Peter spat.

“You’re doing it because it’s my ass on the line?” Stiles asked, a little wistfully, as the meaning of Jackson’s ire hit him. “Aw, Jackson,” he cooed, just as Jackson’s expression darkened, “I didn’t know you cared!”

“I don’t,” Jackson hissed.

“Evidence points to otherwise,” Stiles said, one finger up and dangerously close to Jackson’s chest, like Jackson hadn’t literally greeted him with disappointment over the fact he was still alive and kicking not twenty minutes before.

Jackson just looked at him, his lips parted slightly like he was gearing up to say something and just wasn’t sure exactly what it was he wanted to say yet, but then turned to Lydia and said, “He really has gotten stupider. How is that possible?”

“Don’t bring me into this,” said Lydia, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Maybe we should wait for Deaton,” Boyd chimed in, apparently deciding he no longer wanted to simply watch the garbage fire raging right in front of him. Very unusual for Boyd, actually, and Stiles wondered if that wasn’t a decent indicator of just how bad the quality of conversation was getting. “I don’t think this is getting anywhere fast.”

Derek shook his head, his arms now crossed tight along his chest like they did when he was getting frustrated. “We would have to wait for Morgan to arrive. He’s the one meeting her first to make sure she checks out.”

“Wait, she’s not even here yet?” Isaac asked loudly, peering around Scott, who was still pretty much being held up by him, to look at Jackson in confusion. “I thought she was coming with you. Didn’t you both come over from Europe?”

Jackson threw his hands up in exasperation. “Does no one understand how air travel works?”

Allison made a face, tilting her head in that way she did when something odd was occurring to her. “Morgan le Fay, the great sorceress of legend, is flying in a plane to get here?”

That seemed to stump them all, because the whole room abruptly went quiet. Even Jackson, who had suggested the idea in the first place, seemed to suddenly realize how ridiculous that idea was.

“Well,” Isaac said, breaking the silence first, “how else would she get here?”

“Teleportation?” offered Scott.

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” Derek countered.

“That has to be a real thing,” said Stiles immediately, shaking his head. “Maybe not across continents and oceans,” he amended quickly when Derek only gave him an exasperated look, “but too much weird shit has happened to us for there not to be some kind of teleportation in the world.”

Derek made a gesture with his head to indicate Stiles had a point, but it was overshadowed suddenly by the sharp alert of a cell phone. Derek fished it out of his pocket and tapped on the screen, already frowning. Peter took the chance to be, well, Peter.

“One wrong move, lizard boy,” started Peter the second Jackson was within his line of sight, his hand already held out in as accusing of a gesture as possible, “and I will not hesitate to off you and make up for all that lost time. I don’t care if you technically died the last time we saw you.”

“Peter,” Derek warned without looking up from his phone, but Peter held up a hand.

“We’re not negotiating this one, Derek,” he retorted. Then, before Derek could continue, Peter dropped the hand and turned his attention back onto Jackson. “How about you get us our magic lady as promised and then shut up until further notice?” Peter nodded his head once, not waiting for an answer. “Yes. I like that deal. End of discussion, I think.”

Jackson’s face took on an expression that explicitly conveyed an attitude of “not today, bitch” as he tilted his nose up, eyeing Peter scathingly, and said, like everything that had just came out of Peter’s mouth was nothing more than noise on the wind, “I don’t think so. I think I’m calling the shots here, and you know what I say?” In true Peter fashion, Jackson didn’t even wait a beat for anything resembling an attempt at an answer before he continued, “I say your existence is intruding on mine. I’m going to need you to fuck off.”

Surprisingly, Peter barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m using that one. Kid’s got good lines,” he said, apparently to Derek specifically, jabbing a thumb at Jackson. Behind him, Jackson narrowed his eyes dangerously at the back of Peter’s head.

“Alright,” Erica said cautiously, “let’s not poke the bear before we have a chance to get things straight with the sorceress who could easily obliterate us if we don’t get our act together, yeah? Something tells me she won’t appreciate playing counselor to us, and I’d like to live to see my college years.”

“He started it,” Jackson accused at the exact same time Peter did, before they each turned to glare at the other.

“Are we all going to die?” Isaac asked.

“Possibly,” Boyd replied, utterly nonchalant.

“Hey,” Stiles barked, throwing his hands out like he was breaking up a wrestling match. “I’m the one gagging up florals. I’m the one in immediate peril here, okay? Stop trying to encroach on my thunder here.”

“That’s not how the saying goes, Stiles,” Lydia muttered in exasperation.

“Florals?” Jackson repeated, the previous grievance with Peter suddenly pushed aside in favor of what was apparently new information. Jackson frowned at Stiles, clearly confused. “You’re cursed with flowers? What?”

“He’s throwing them up, actually,” Isaac offered helpfully. It didn’t make Jackson look any less confused, but it did give him the added benefit of also looking disgusted. Stiles, for once, couldn’t really blame him for that one.

“What kind of curse is that?” asked Jackson.

“A stupid one,” said Boyd.

“Clearly. Of all the things to be cursed with, you had to go for flowers, Stilinski?”

“You’re acting like I asked for it,” Stiles retaliated. “Do you really think I walked up to the witch and went, ‘Hey, ma’am, you know what I could really use right now? A good stabbing and a curse that makes me choke up flowers without any semblance of rhyme or reason to it, and I think you’re just the lady to do it to me.’ No, Jackson, I didn’t!”

Jackson turned his attention onto Lydia again. “Stabbing?”

Lydia nodded. “With a necklace.”

Closing his eyes like he was in pain, Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m suddenly remembering why I was thrilled to get away from Beacon Hills and all of you. A necklace?”

Instead of offering anything more by ways of verbal information, Stiles sighed, held up a hand to tell Jackson to wait, and dug the necklace out of his pocket. He’d been tasked with keeping an eye on it back when they’d realized nothing beyond the name was any help, and had unceremoniously shoved it in the pocket of his jeans without a second thought, meaning to look into the lore behind the flower of choice at a later date and never actually getting around to it. Honestly, it was pure luck he wore that same pair that day, because he’d kind of forgotten all about it up until he was already halfway to Derek’s place and realized, maybe, Morgan might want her necklace back. Jackson watched warily as the pendant unfurled from Stiles’ fist with a quiet tinkling rattle of metal chains snagging on metal petals.

Stiles held the pendant out at arms length in Jackson’s direction. It swung with the motion, reflecting back the dying light of the day behind them, and everyone seemed to take a half step back. Jackson tilted his head, looking almost, strangely, pleased at the sight of the flower-shaped bauble.

Weird.

“Are you checking yourself out in the reflection or something?” Stiles accused, making no effort to disguise his disgust at the idea.

Jackson scoffed. “You wish. That’d be the only time you’d ever have anything remotely appealing about you.”

Stiles took a step back, his mouth dropping open in shocked offense, and next to him Scott barked a half-restrained laugh that he clearly hadn’t meant to let out. Allison smacked him on the shoulder, but the damage was done. Stiles rounded on Scott, who only gave him a sheepish smile and a very guilty shrug.

In the background, Erica sighed dramatically. “One day I’ll have someone who looks at me like Jackson looks at himself.”

“Looks like you gotta step up that game, Boyd,” Isaac said as Jackson pivoted and leveled Erica with a glare that did absolutely nothing to wipe the smarmy smirk off her face. Beside her, Boyd just rolled his eyes.

“No one in the world looks at anyone else like Jackson looks at himself. You’re setting me up for failure.”

“You’re right,” Erica agreed, sounding distinctly disappointed. “There needs to be an ego of unparalleled proportions attached to something like that, and Jackson already lays claim to the title.” She crossed her arms and shook her head sadly. “Maybe in another life.”

Jackson cocked his head and scrutinized Erica in that ruthless way he had. “Try a little harder at being a bitch, would you?” he said silkily. “You’re not quite meeting my standards.”

“No one meets your standards, sweetie,” Lydia chimed in, pating Jackson on the back in such an obviously demeaning way that Jackson had no choice but to glower silently in her direction as she moved the conversation along.

With one deft movement, Lydia snagged the pendant out of Stiles’ hand and moved behind him. Stiles barely had time to react before he realized what she was doing, and then the deed was done.

“Lydia,” he croaked, hand flying up to the pendant that now sat snug just below the dip of his collarbones. It felt strangely hot, even through the layer of shirt between it and his skin. “Take me out to dinner first, jeez.”

“You shouldn’t be keeping something that important in your pocket,” was all she replied, making her way back to Allison’s side.

“This meeting is becoming increasingly pointless,” said Peter. He gave Derek a pointed look, his arms crossing across his chest in disdain. “Why do our meetings always end up pointless? Aren’t we here to talk tactics and not waste time giving out the information we’re only going to have to repeat once the witch is here? You’re wasting my precious time here, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Sorceress,” Lydia corrected, just as Derek’s phone started to ring. Shooting Peter a quick glance, Derek swiftly answered the call and made his way to the edges of the room, like everyone around him hadn’t immediately gone deathly silent at the sudden attempt at communication. They all watched him go, not a word spoken between them, Derek muttering something into the device that was too low for his ears but was likely easily picked up by all the werewolves in the general vicinity, judging by the way every single one of them suddenly had their head slightly cocked.

“I hate you guys,” Stiles hissed. “Just in case anyone managed to forget,” he continued when Scott gave him a confused look. It didn’t lessen the confusion, but it made Stiles feel marginally better.

“Who’s he talking to?” Allison whispered, lilting her head towards Scott.

Scott opened his mouth to likely give the answer she wanted, but Peter cut him off with a sharp growl of a tone as he said, “Why don’t you just ask him?”

Somehow, that seemed to get Derek’s attention, because he looked up sharply the moment the words left Peter’s mouth, the phone still pressed firmly to his ear, and he looked so much like his old self in that moment that Stiles almost did a double-take.

“What?” Stiles asked warily when no one else bothered to open their mouths and ask first.

“It’s Deaton,” said Derek solemnly, almost gravely, and Stiles felt his heart drop to his toes when Derek looked directly at him and said, “Morgan is here.”

“Great,” Peter spat, jerking his head in a viscous eye-roll that was nearly a full-bodied motion, and then he turned and strode from the room. For once, Stiles kind of wished he could do exactly the same.

[drawlfoy]

The Placebo Effect p.1

pairing: draco x femslytherin!reader

warnings: probably gonna be some “mild” language (ok, coming back, i say fuck twice, so if you’re not down, now’s the time to nope out of here)

a/n: my first real writing post! please let me know if you have any feedback/constructive criticism. my requests are open, so pleaseeee send in stuff ;) also i’m not british so i deeply apologize if i don’t have enough british slang/if i misuse it...please tell me if i do!

summary: slytherin reader isn’t a big fan of draco and they argue allll the time. slughorn reshuffles potion partners the day they’re required to brew amortentia and... a little something happens. takes place in 6th year. 

word count: 1,936

pla•ce•bo ef•fect (noun) ~ a beneficial effect produced by a placebo drug or treatment, which cannot be attributed to the properties of the placebo itself, and must therefore be due to the patient's belief in that treatment.

Y/N was growing increasingly irritated with her house: the dimly lit common room that always smelled faintly like shoe polish, the dorm rooms which always chilled her to the bone, the dark green that clashed with her favorite color (pastel blue, if you were wondering), the disgusting amount of blood purity prejudice, and of course, Draco Malfoy. 

He had been tolerable enough in the beginning, focusing all his chaotic energy on Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio, but ever since 6th year had started, he’d pulled back and instead moped around like a very pale golden retriever who had just been told he wasn’t ever going to play fetch again. Well, a very pale, very rude, and very rich golden retriever. As a result, Y/N had to see much more of his ridiculously pale (but admittedly very delicately structured) face.She hadn’t known peace since.

“Watch where you’re going.” 

The cold and haughty voice ripped Y/N out of her thoughts as she accidentally bumped into a silk-clad shoulder. She looked up to see none other than Malfoy scowling down at her, his silver eyes narrowed and his jaw set. 

“My apologies. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to block the doorway?” Y/N’s voice was sugary sweet, dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes. She also told me how improper it is to get into the pants of a muggle. I’m guessing yours didn’t buy into that lesson?” A perfectly plucked blond eyebrow raised.

Y/N felt her face grew hot. How did he know her mother married a muggle? Her mouth opened and closed as the overwhelming feeling of being lost for words overtook her.

Stay calm, stay calm. Don’t let him see that he rattled you. 

Y/N set her face into a smirk that rivaled his. 

“No, actually.” She readied herself to go in for the kill. “Instead, she taught me the importance of rejecting an ideology that would eventually lead to me fucking my cousin.”

With that, Y/N made her exit, slipping past Malfoy and flouncing off to the Dining Hall. Sometimes it felt good to beat that prick at his own game.

“Alright, students,” Professor Slughorn began. He clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and cleared his throat in a way only old men could. “Today, we’re going to be brewing the most powerful love potion in existence. Can anyone tell me what this potion is?”

Pansy Parkinson’s hand shot up. Y/N rolled her eyes. When Granger wasn’t here to remind everyone how smart she was, Parkinson was always available to pick up the slack. 

“Yes, Miss Parkinson.” 

“Amortentia. Its aroma is different to every individual, depending on what scents you find most attractive, even if you aren’t aware of it. Consuming it will make one obsessive with infatuation.”

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson.” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat once again. Y/N felt a smile form on her face. She had a special place in her heart for the professor. He was so pure and reminded her of her grandfather...even though he was a muggle. 

“I’ll assign each of you to new partners.” Slughorn’s words immediately made Y/N reconsider her previous thoughts that portrayed him kindly. She turned and sent Daphne Greengrass, her (ex) potions partner, a disappointed frown and waited to hear her name. All of the other Slytherins were intolerable or at least a little prejudiced.

This is too much for a Monday morning she thought, placing her hand on her forehead in a dramatic gesture. 

“Greengrass you’re with Zabini. Nott, you’re with Parkinson. Y/L/N, you’re with Malfoy.”

The names afterwards morphed into a slush of noise that Y/N couldn’t even be bothered to comprehend. Daphne reached over and gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze as Y/N sat, frozen with disappointment and surprise. 

This couldn’t be happening. She had done so well in his class. Why was Slughorn punishing her now? He couldn’t have missed how much of a piece of work Malfoy was, and Y/N was one of Slughorn’s favorite students. How could he betray her like this?

“Does everyone know who they will be working with today?” Slughorn’s voice pulled Y/N out of her pity party. 

“Yes, Professor Slughorn.” The depressed chorus of voices in the room offered Y/N some solace that, yes, she wasn’t the only one displeased with the new seating arrangements. 

“Good. Find your partner and begin. Your time starts now.”

Everyone sprung up in a mad dash to find their fellow worker and get started. Potions class was much harder now that they were 6th years, and each student needed all the time they were offered. 

“Fancy this.” For the second time that day, Y/N was given the treat of being surprised by Malfoy’s voice right next to her. 

“You chop, I stir.” Her words were matter-of-fact and straight to the point. She’d be damned if someone as rude as him messed up her shot at getting the highest mark. 

Surprisingly enough, Malfoy nodded, flipping open the potions book to the designated page and gathering ingredients while Y/N prepared the cauldron. 

Y/N almost started feeling bad for him as she stirred. The bags under his eyes were large enough to be designer and his eyes, once a bright and sparkling silver, were dull and unenthused. Perhaps she had judged him too quickly.

“Uh...Malfoy,” she began awkwardly, losing confidence once he met her eyes with a convicting stare, “I’m sorry about this morning. For calling you...er...a cousin fucker, and stuff.”

His eyebrows raised again. She wondered if his eyebrows ever got tired with how much he judgmentally lifted them.

“No. You’re not.” His tone was more defeated and uninterested than vindictive, so Y/N let it slide. They continued their work. 

“Your hair.” 

The phrase jolted Y/N out of her flow and forced her to look up at her partner. 

“My what?”

“Your hair. It’s about to get into the potion.” Malfoy glanced down at the lip of the cauldron and back up to my face with one eyebrow cocked as if to say yeah, look. Y/N obliged and saw a single strand of her hair barely about to touch the edge of the cauldron. 

How had he even noticed that? 

“Overdramatic much?” Y/N shot back. 

“We’re almost done, can we just get through this first?” Malfoy’s tone came across as nearly pleading, something that Y/N would never expect.

She rolled her eyes and looked down at the directions. She only had to stir the potion thirteen times clockwise, and it would be done. 

“No, I think we can talk about it now. It is basically done.” Y/N glared at him. If he wanted a fight, he could get one. 

“Well then.” His tone was a 180 from the pleading one he had adopted just a few seconds ago, now snippity and offended. “I said that no, you weren’t sorry, because I meant what I said this morning. I know you did too.”

“How would you know what I think?” 

Merlin, who did he think he was? 

“Half-bloods. They’re all the same, so predictable. It’s like you all have a hive mind or something.” He paused to fiddle with his sleeve. “But it doesn’t matter whether you meant it or not. We both know it’s not true.”

Y/N was fuming. How many times had she stirred? Ah, yes, 8. 5 more to go. It took all her willpower to continue stirring at a controlled pace. 

“Don’t you know that your blood purity isn’t a personality trait?” Y/N hissed back. 

“Sure. Still makes me superior though.” His eyes were flaming despite his measured response.

“What are you gonna do once your lot is all intermarried? What’s the plan, genius?” 

2 more stirs to go. 

“I don’t take questions from pathetic half breeds,” Malfoy spat.

1 stir left.

“Why, because you can’t answer it?” Y/N exclaimed. “You know you’re wrong!” 

13 stirs. Y/N’s hand slowed the ladle to a stop.

“No.” Malfoy leaned in, so close she could feel his hot breath one her face. “You just know that you’ll never be welcome here.”

That was it. Y/N’s hand shot up from the cauldron, aiming to shove the Malfoy heir away from her, but she forgot to drop the ladle. Instead, the ladle was flung at the two with enough force to splatter their exposed skin with the freshly brewed amortentia. 

Y/N and Malfoy both froze, staring at each other, then staring at the potion coating them.

“What have you done?” Malfoy whispered, eyes growing wide. Y/N had never noticed how kind his eyes looked--they were like two miniature stars, flickering and shimmering with the reflected light of the room. 

So that’s why my favorite color is pale blue Y/N thought dreamily, letting her hand drop the ladle to the ground. It clattered as it hit the stone, but she didn’t notice. It was much more worthwhile to admire the fairness of his hair. How could it be so pale and delicate? It reminded Y/N of spun gold.

Draco--when did she start calling him Draco?--raised one quivering hand to the side of her face.

“You have an eyelash.” His voice was quiet but deep and melodic.

His thumb brushed over the skin under her eye, making her shiver from the cool touch. He had very long, elegant fingers. How had Y/N never paid any mind to them before?

The classroom had fallen silent at this point, but Y/N hadn’t even noticed. All that existed in the room was the boy gazing at her with eyes softer than anything she had ever seen before. He still hadn’t moved from his close proximity. If Y/N looked hard enough, she could count the dark grey flecks in his eyes--ooh, or each of the long eyelashes fanning them. 

Draco licked his lips, a motion that pulled her attention away from his eyes. 

“I didn’t mean what I said about your mother,” he whispered. Never had Y/N ever heard such a tenderly stated sentiment before. 

“I know. I didn’t mean what I said either.” 

Draco’s hand was resting on the side of her face, cupping her cheek and holding her in place.

When had that happened?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing except the fact that the blond boy was leaning even closer, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. She followed suit, sending one last glance down at his lips before they touche--

“Well, isn’t this an interesting scene.” 

Y/N and Draco sprung apart to see Professor Snape staring cooling at them.

“Thank you for calling me over, Professor Slughorn. I can take it from here. Parkinson looks like she might need some assistance.”

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N had difficulty tearing her eyes away from Draco, and it seemed as though he was fighting the same struggle.

“Do indulge me,” Snape drawled. “How did you both manage to accidentally consume the same potion?”

“Professor,” Y/N replied, “We didn’t drink it. It just spilled.” Her tone was giddier than she would’ve liked, but it was okay. Everything was okay, just as long as Draco kept looking at her with those jewel-like eyes.

“Well then.” Snape sighed. “I am assuming that neither of you bothered to listen to the explanation of how amortentia functions?”

“Well, sure, Professor,” Y/N responded. “It’s the most powerful love potion in the world and it makes you fall in love with--”

“You see,” Snape interjected, “If you or Mr. Malfoy decided to pay attention, you would’ve heard that amortentia is meant to be consumed. Its effects don’t occur from skin contact.”

“What are you saying?” Draco looked just as concerned as Y/N.

“I’m saying that you two have some unfinished business to work out. The potion didn’t cause,” Snape motioned to the two students, “this.”

With that, Professor Snape stalked off, leaving Draco and Y/N to gape at each other. 

final a/n: if you would like me to continue this, let me know! thank you for reading and send your requests in! and in the case you’re confused by the ending: check out what the placebo effect is. it’s a very interesting topic! 

[the-thirteenth-note]

Through the Heart

0126 U.V.A. – Nucade City, Zandakar Coliseum

“Bring them out!” The cheers of the excited crowd filled the stadium with a manic energy as five hundred thousand voices called out in barely contained anticipation.

A black and red Dreadnaught class ship swooped down from the skies above landing on the grassy field in the middle of the stadium, it was a clunky transport vehicle fifty feet long from front to back.

As soon as the ship landed a ramp extended from the side and several alien prisoners exited. Walking in a single file line toward the center of the field, heading toward the elder Gyiyg who had announced their arrival. There were five in all; A Gyiyg, Mook, Shambler and a pair of identical Nevidians. They all wore matching Inhibitor Collars around their necks and white jumpsuits accented with grey.

Once the five stood before him the once boisterous crowd fell dead silent. Waiting on the words of the pale green-furred old man in pristine white robes and his orange, blue, and green holy vestments symbolizing the colors of the Triumvirate.

He began in a deep voice, that was amplified and projected around the stadium.

“These five stand before you seeking salvation, seeking deliverance, seeking the crucible. That they may be gifted with absolution for their crimes. And was it not Solara who said; ‘Let those who pursue true repentance, not be turned away for a perceived lack of virtue. Allow them ample opportunity that they may be reborn by their own hand, by their own will and in their own time.’”

He had made this announcement thousands of times before. He knew the ebb and flow of the speech down to each and every pause he would let hang for as long as necessary for maximum effect, to each quote from scripture and down to the movements of his hands. The routine of it all brought him great comfort, the same comfort one might feel reading a familiar book or listening to a favorite song for the umpteenth time. He only hoped his words could extend some small measure of that calm to these prisoners facing the trials before them.

“By way of atonement through combat, we shall see if they are worthy, or shall be found wanting.”

The old Gyiyg went down the line of prisoners, saying a small prayer for each and removing their Inhibitor Collars one by one as the crowd waited with bated breath. After the last one was freed the old man bowed deeply and spoke just loud enough for the five to hear.

“May the Triumvirate, guide your steps.” A tinge of remorse lining his words before he teleported away.

The silence hung for a moment longer but soon gave way to a deep rumbling that shook the entire stadium, as the onlookers drummed their heels once again making their excitement of the coming spectacle known. The high slanted walls that seperated the field from the audience in the stadiums stands, projected an azure hexagonal dome of psionic energy, capping the grassy field and caging the prisoners inside.

On the far side of the arena, a door slowly opened revealing their opponent; a large reptilian animal sporting rough black scales all over its body. The beast was twenty feet tall from head to tail, had rows of sharp teeth for rending flesh, deep yellow eyes and powerful leathery wings. When it noticed the prisoners it let loose a bone-chilling roar and threw its self at the energy barrier that kept it from entering the field.

Just the presence of it made the fur on the Gyiyg woman’s neck stand on end as she felt the waves of aggression emanating from the beast, relentlessly throwing itself at the wall of psychic energy.

The only ones that seemed unperturbed by the presence of the hostile creature were the two Nevidian’s, who seemed eager for its release.

“What…in the nine thousands of hells is that thing?”

One of the insectoid aliens turned to the Gyiyg woman and replied with a smile and twinkle in his eye. “That. My furry friend is known as a ‘Draang’.”

“Do they have a weakness?” The purple and blue Mook said as he approached, joining in on the conversation.

“Zavti knows more of the creatures than I,” Said Lavis.

The trio turned to the other Nevidian who still hadn’t taken his sight from the Draang.

Zavti called over his shoulder, the words carrying the buzzing cadence all Nevidian’s shared. “They’re quite hostile and hunt their prey using telekinesis and their enormous wings to strike with hypersonic winds. Their scales are resistant to physical damage, though due to the arid climate of our homeworld it has no natural resistance to extreme cold. PK Freeze is our only choice for an effective offense.”

Lavis turned to the rest of the prisoners. “If any of you can use shields we can trap it, maybe use an Encased Assault?”

The Shambler came forward raising his left tentacle. “Keep that thing far away from me and I’ll make you as many shields as you want.” Sounding nervous but determined.

“Alright we’ve got a game pla-” Was all the Mook was able to get out before the Draang was freed, charging them in an enraged blitzkrieg.

It ran at them, taking three long strides before stomping its taloned foot down to brace itself, its body pivoted and the left wing flapped throwing a concentrated strike of wind directly at the group. The Shambler raised his tentacles over his head, barely raising a psychic shield in time to protect them all.

The crowd cheered with new fervor as the creature lashed out.

Upon seeing its first attack had failed the Draang roared and bared down on the prisoners, the Nevidians were the first to react, running to meet the reptilian predator head-on. Zavti reached the beast first, running leaping, dodging and rolling, avoiding the Draangs tail and wings as it tried in vain to crush him. His brother, seeing that the creature was distracted positioned himself behind the animal and struck it with a gout of icicles.

It turned immediately, whipping its tail and spinning around to face him. Lavis jumped over the tail and as the Draang reached down to snatch him up in its massive jaws, a block of ice crashed into the side of its head causing it to stumble. The Draang flapped both wings, throwing the four that surrounded it back.

Before they could regroup, it took off toward the fifth prisoner without warning or hesitation. The crowds’ yells rose with every second, every step as the relentless hunter reached its prey with a zealous swiftness. The Shambler hastily erected a shield that buckled like brittle glass as the Draang steam-rolled through his pitiful defence with the full might of its body.

He had no time to call out before he was stomped once, with brutal efficiency. The Draang wrapped its tail around what was left of the Shamblers body brought it up to its nose, sniffing it once before flinging the Shambler toward the energy dome overhead, vaporizing his remains instantly, leaving neither smoke nor ash.

A cheer went up as the apex predator turned back toward the remaining prisoners.

“Anyone else have a plan?” Gulum asked as he got up from where he’d been thrown aside, rubbing his eye stalk to try and ease the pain.

“I need you to throw me.” Replied the Gyiyg as the rest of them regrouped.

All three of the Mooks eyes went wide. “Wha-?”

“Throw. Me.” Pel said. “We don’t have time any to argue.”

“That’s a terrible plan, we might as well be feeding you to that thing!” He shot back.

“Look,” Pel said as she placed a hand on the Mooks shoulder. “I know what I’m doing, just trust me okay?” She said, pleading with her fellow prisoner turned gladiator.

“Whatever you’re doing do it fast, we’ll run interference,” Lavis yelled as he ran off toward the dark-scaled reptile, following his brother who had already lept back into the fray attacking again with PK Freeze.

Gulum used telekinesis to lift Pel over his head as he built up energy, pouring all his concentration and psychic power into imagining a mental piston, ready to launch her. Pel closed her eyes and drew on her own reserves of power focusing on channeling the Psycokinetic Frost into her limbs. Starting at her fingertips, spreading to her hands and then up her arms, stopping at her shoulders.

It emitted a soul-shaking roar as Zavti and Lavis blasted the Draang with twin waves of ice, freezing its legs in place and with one final thought, Gulum flexed his mental muscles sending his Gyiyg ally straight at the beast like an icy balista.