Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison McCall & Reader
Author’s Note: This is the last one I have for you guys. It takes place after Scott and Allison get home from their honeymoon and finally get updated on what happened with their two best friends while they were gone. I enjoy the gender norms/role reversal here. Thank you so much for reading The Mistake. I have loved every minute of it. I hope to see you guys enjoying my other work :) *waves bye for now*
Summary: After a morning disaster, you decide to check in on an injured erumpent. Unfortunately, your day seems to be filled with disasters. Fortunately, Newt is there to help with them.
Word Count: 2,105
Pairing: Newt x Reader
Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in
As a child, you’d never imagined you’d get to stroke the side of an erumpent and not fear any danger. Though you loved all creatures and decided by the age of 7 to become a magizoologist, your father had protested any interest in any even slightly dangerous creatures. You’d met your fair share of bowtruckles, demiguises, and, to your chagrin, injured owls but never an erumpent. So, when, on your trip, Newt asked you to help him examine an erumpent that seemed to be limping, you jumped at the chance.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure, Newt.” You tap your foot, already impatient with how long it will take to clean up the breakfast dishes. If only he had said something earlier. You would have cooked far less than the buffet sitting in front of the two of you.
Newt laughs at your huff. “I know it’s dangerous, but this is possibly a once in a lifetime chance and I do not plan to let it get away from me.”
“Alright, alright.” He set his fork down, reaching for his napkin as he opens his mouth to say something else.
Pickett, though, startles at the sound of the fork clinking against the plate. The bowtruckle reels backwards, tripping over the napkin behind it. Its small frame smacks into your glass of water, sending the glass tumbling over. Water floods the table, rushing toward you in a wave and flying over the edge before you can even stand.
Request: Can you do an imagine where the reader goes to steal one of Remus sweaters because she’s cold & notices that he only has a handful that aren’t too small or torn & so she buys him a few and just puts them in his trunk and then he sees the reader wearing his favorite one and just knows it was her and its just really fluffy?
Warnings: fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff
A/N: I know they’re called jumpers in England (and if you’re me) but for the purposes of the story, we’ll stick with the American version (sorry) also, I’m changing it up just a little bit ;)
I feel a chill run down my spine as a draft passes through the room. The fire blazes at my side, and yet I can’t seem to shake the chill of the coming autumn. I tuck my feet into the crack between the cushion and the armrest of my chair, huddling closer to the plush fabric, trying to keep warm as my eyes scan the pages of the book in my hands. But after reading the same paragraph for the tenth time and absorbing none of it, I give up.
I mark my page in the book, and crawl toward the boys dormitory. If there is one place to get a sweater, it’s from my boyfriend. I climb the stairs to the room he shares with his three best friends and don’t even pause to knock before opening the door, knowing fully well that the boys are in Hogsmeade for the afternoon.
I pry open the heavy lid of his trunk, and my nose is filled with the wonderful scent of cinnamon and apples that seems to be on everything around him. Under the lid, I find his impeccably organized belongings inside and a stack of four sweaters sitting on top. I immediately go for the grey one with blue embroidery, remembering how soft and cozy it was from the last time he wore it. It’s at the bottom of the stack and as I rifle through, I notice that the other three are in various states of disrepair. The knitting on two has started to unravel, while the other looks like it’s shrunk in the wash. A huff escapes my lips as I look over the sweaters. I carefully fold them anyway and replace them inside the trunk, and then pull the grey sweater on over my shirt, grab my book and head back to the girls dormitory.
I hear voices as I approach my own bedroom door, and recognize them as belonging to Marlene, Alice, and Lily.
“Knock knock,” I announce as I enter the room, immediately crossing to Lily’s bed and plopping down next to her.
“You know, saying ‘knock knock’ doesn’t actually count as knocking,” Marlene laughs from her bed, adjacent to Lily’s.
“Whatever, it’s my room, too,” I say.
“Is that Remus’s?” Alice asks, eyeing the sweater.
“Yep,” I reply, wrapping my arms around myself, and inhaling the scent of cinnamon. “Seems to be his only good one left, I almost feel bad for stealing it.”
“Emphasis on the ‘almost,’” Lily teases. And then an idea comes to me.
“Alice, you know how to knit, don’t you?”
I smile at her as a plan formulates in my brain.
Hours pass and Marlene, Lily, Alice, and I are completely surrounded by yarn of varying colors and textures, maroons and dark greens strewn across the floor, and our handiwork sits in the middle of our circle. Luckily for us, Alice had all of her crafting supplies stashed under her bed. It took about an hour for Lily and I to get the hang of the knitting, whereas Marlene gave up after about six minutes and has now put herself in charge of criticizing our work.
“(Y/N), he’s going to love these so much,” Lily says over her clanking knitting needles.
I smile, looking down at the dark navy sweater I’ve been working on, and then look back up at them. “I’m not sure I want to tell him it was us.”
Marlene laughs from her spot on her bed. “What, you want him to just happen upon them and think that the elves brought them for him?”
“Yeah, kind of,” I reply, smirking a bit. “I dunno, I just. I like the idea of him just… finding them.”
Marlene laughs again, shaking her head at me. “I swear you two were made for each other. You’re too nice.”
After a week of me disappearing with the girls at random times during the day to continue our work, the sweaters are finally finished and perfect. We’d created seven, rather gorgeously crafted sweaters, deciding one for every day of the week was best.
The door to my room creaks open and Alice pokes her head in announcing, “Coast is clear! They just went down to breakfast.”
I squeal a little bit, as Lily and I scoop up the sweaters and sneak over to the boys dormitory, stealing into their room. I pry open Remus’ trunk, the smell of cinnamon and apples hitting me once again, and put my stack of sweaters in, followed by the ones Lily’s handing me. As I close the lid, I look up to see her staring absentmindedly at the bed two over from Remus’.
“Hey, Lil, y’know James probably wouldn’t mind if you just waited up here for him,” I tease. She shoots me a look, semi-amused and semi-disgusted.
“I hate you,” she replies, shoving me in the arm before taking off out of the room, her dark red hair flying behind her.
The fire blazes by my side as I sit cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying the warmth of the flames while reading my book. A confident smile plays on my lips, and I revel in the idea of seeing Remus in one of his new sweaters. Suddenly I feel a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders from behind me, and smell the familiar scent of cinnamon.
“Afternoon, my love,” Remus says, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek.
“Hello,” I reply, turning my head toward him, and closing the book and place it on the sofa by my side.
“So, the strangest thing happened and you’ll never believe it,” he says, as he crosses to sit on the couch next to me, lifting my feet to drape across his lap.
“What’s that?” I ask, perhaps a little too innocently.
“So, one week ago to this day, my favorite sweater disappears while I’m gone with my friends to Hogsmeade, and then today seven brand new sweaters appear in my trunk, smelling strangely similarly to my wonderful girlfriend’s perfume, who happens to be sitting down, reading, in the common room wearing my same favorite sweater. What are the odds really?”
My jaw drops and I look down to realize that I was, indeed, wearing his grey sweater with the blue embroidery.
I groan at my stupidity, “I meant for it to be a secret gift.”
“Love, you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets,” he replies, taking my hand and squeezing it a little.
“I beg to differ,“ I quip, giving him a look.
“Alright, you’ve kept that secret,” he laughs in surrender, and I chuckle a little too.
“I didn’t realize this one was your favorite,” I say pulling at the sweater slightly. “You can have it back, if you’d like.”
“I think I like it better on you, actually. Besides I have these seven new sweaters that this amazing girl got for me, so,” he says, while wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me onto his lap.
“Well, ‘got’ is really not the correct term. More along the lines of ‘poured hours of her soul into creating’ is more like it,” I tease, refusing to make eye contact with him.
“You… you made them for me?” he asks, in a small voice. I look down into his eyes, and they’re full of amazement and wonder.
“Well, Alice and Lily helped a lot, but yeah,” I say.
In a moment, my back is pressed down against the couch, and Remus is pinning me down, and kissing me as if his life depended on it, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the other cupping the back of my neck. And my arms are wrapped around his shoulders, holding him even closer to me.
He breaks this kiss, and looks down into my eyes.
“I hope you don’t thank Alice and Lily that same way,” I tease and he throws his head back in laughter.
“I love you so much,” he says. “You know that?”
I smile, slightly out of breath. “Yeah, but it’s still nice to hear.”
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think here!
New Ficlet: The Hunt for the Hoarded Sweaters (OUAT, DQ, Fluff)
@saxgoddess25 and @soulofsilence both asked/begged me to write the fic where Mal hoards Regina’s sweaters. So… I did. :-) It’s really just a little fluffy ficlet, not a proper fic, but it’s
fluffy like a warm, cozy sweater.
The drawer was empty. Of course it was empty; Regina counted herself as a fairly observant person and she had noticed the last time she’d reached into this particular drawer that there was only one sweater left. She knew better than to leave tasks for later, but here she was, sweaterless. It was her own impatience that left her bereft of clothing sufficient for the Maine climate today–after all, she knew Mal and her habits.
She rolled her eyes at herself and her–
‘Girlfriend’ was wholly inadequate. 'Partner’ was soulless. 'Lover’ was nice but too specific.
Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long today. She was supposed to be in the office for the annual “Inclement Weather Strategic Planning Meeting” in a couple of hours and she’d like to drop by Granny’s for coffee, first.
She started her hunt in the attic, although she knew from experience that it wouldn’t be there. Dragons collected and protected treasure, and if someone stole their hoard, they generally wouldn’t amass a new one in the same place.
Sure enough, the attic was empty of sweaters, as were all the bedrooms, the bathrooms (thank goodness), the kitchen (she didn’t bother checking the fridge; the idea of a dragon voluntarily stashing hoarded items in a cold place was laughable), the laundry room (that would have been too easy), the crawlspaces, and her study. Mal liked her study; she called it Regina’s den and had claimed a small corner of it for herself. Her hoard had ended up there once or twice, but not today.
That left the family room, and there was only one place for a dragon to stash her hoard. Regina went straight to the wood chest that housed extra blankets and opened it. Mal had neatly folded and stacked all the blankets on the left side and had even more carefully stacked all of Regina’s sweaters on the right.
Regina smiled in triumph. She’d asked Mal once why it was her sweaters that went missing and not her jewelry or… other, more personal items.
Mal had given it some thought before answering. “Your jewels are your own hoard, and other items need washing, but there’s something about the softness and the smell and the pleasing shape…” her voice had gone all low and rumbly, and Regina had suddenly been much less interested in the answer than in the way her eyes flashed or the way her head tilted back, inviting a kiss.
Regina took out the stack of sweaters and went back upstairs, placing all but one back into her drawer. She then went to the bed and crouched, drawing out a tiny box with a shiny ribbon already wrapped around it. It was a small trinket she’d been meaning to give Mal, and she knew the perfect place to leave it for her–
Knitted wool sweaters, stacks of flannel blankets, the smell of pumpkin spice, the warmth of the oven, steam coming off off a cup of hot chocolate, crawling into bed and watching the leaves fall outside the window, pulling a scarf up over your cold face, watching a Tim Burton movie while cuddling with someone
N – soft cashmere, lustrous pearls of all
shades, blankets fresh from the dryer, ruby red grapefruit, thick
cable knit sweaters, stacks of books sitting in sunlight each with a
different bookmark, elaborately wrapped gifts, elegant orchids, wind chimes
tinkling in the breeze, peacocks displaying their plumage
Leo – steaming coffee on a cold day, smooth
dark chocolate infused with pepper, rustic brick walls, a table set
for two, soft underbelly of a hedgehog, children laughing, spider web
with raindrops caught in the webbing, stone bridges, sepia toned photographs, a cat sleeping
in the sun
Ken – soap bubbles, melting ice cream cone,
squeaky toys, lighthouse beaming on a foggy night, MC Escher
sketches, hounds baying, warm and gooey chocolate chip cookies,
canned laugh track playing in the background, primary colored
balloons, building sand castles, playful puppies piling on one
Ravi – stage lights, thoroughbred horse going
the distance, shelter from pouring rain, soft hoodies, teddy bears,
street lamps late at night, hot chocolate with marshmallows, laughing
until you cry, contemporary art, intense kisses that steal your
breath, chivalrous knights, a forest of strong oaks, graffiti on
Hongbin – Coldwater Creek catalogs, picking
raspberries on a sunny day, the clean scent of shampoo, Easter eggs peeking out
from their hiding places, stargazing and late night conversation,
home baked pie cooling on the windowsill,
comfortable denim shirts, zen stones, calligraphy, brightly colored tulips
Hyuk – morning dew on the grass, amusement
parks, B movie marathons, getting soaked in water gun fights, hiking
on mountain trails, peaches, grandmothers pinching cheeks, seagulls
stealing your food, cherry blossoms in spring, racing stripes on a
sports car, Perseus, horses nickering at day break