Superwolf/Sterek AU

in which the family of the Argents and the Campbells have a past. Chris knows the boys of John and Mary Winchester and calls them for backup when Stiles is possessed by the Nogitsune. Derek, however, doesn’t want anyone near Stiles, least of all strange hunters. He wants Stiles, and he wants him alive, possessed or not.

Chris headed into the dining hall, eyes scanning the room until her found a familiar blonde head of curls. He made a beeline over, sitting himself opposite Lottie, ignoring all the other Hufflepuffs around him. “Hey.” Hesitating before he spoke again, “You alright? I didn’t see you around the castle when everything happened at Hogsmeade.”


Harry clenched his teeth. It wasn’t even past afternoon, yet he was already buzzed and angry.

“Who cares?! Weren’t you the one who told me that it was alright since you were making money anyway?!”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Potter! You are the worst patron that this bar has ever had!”

“You’re the worst bartender that this bar’s ever had!”

“Shut up!”

“No, you!”

“No, you!”

“Why do you always need to have the last word?!”

Draco was wiping the bottom of a bottle of liquor but stopped abruptly to shoot a rather unkind look in Harry’s direction. “Why, does that bother you?”, he snapped as he slammed the bottle down. The clear liquid inside sloshed angrily within its confines, much like Draco’s blood, which seemed to be boiling under his skin as he rounded the barrier between him and the prat that just wouldn’t leave.

They were nearly nose-to-nose, with Harry smelling like alcohol and Draco feeling hot with tension that could all but withhold itself, until Harry smirked.

And it was at that moment that the stretchy tension that connected Draco’s mind to his heart lost its elasticity and snapped like a rubber band.

“Yes,” he said lowly. Harry was not going to win. “I do need to have the last word. Would you like another word from me? Leave.

“Fucking hell, Draco! Can you stop being so infuriating for at least one solid minute?” Harry grabbed a fist of Draco’s collar and pinned him against the wall. He never intended to fight, but that ferrety git was so bloody enraging that it boiled his blood. Harry was ready to throw a punch – but suddenly, all Harry could focus on was Draco’s jaw. That perfectly sharp, defined jaw. And his neck. It took every bit of Harry’s rationality to not lick his jaw nor his neck, both of which made his knees feel weak. The things Draco did to him, that git.

“Scared, Potter? Draco’s voice was a bit shaky, betraying his smug look.

“You wish, Malfoy. You wish.

so this is a snippet from my wip collab with @somnumdraconi. do tell me what you think? and tell us if you wanna be tagged when we finally finish this and post it? idk idk feedback maybe? pls?

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