The Baby Whisperer [ON HOLD]

Chapter 2: A House Party - and no, not in Gryffindor

Dedicated to TheMadLittleSloth because she's the person (besides Chompy) who bullied me into writing again.  She's awesome and if it weren't for her then I wouldn't have done this in the first place.

Oh and for all you potatoes -- and you people who blush at steamy make out scenes -- this is for  the more developed french fries out there. Oliver the man-whore is on the prowl.

Picture of Belle Porter (Emily Browning) to the side.

Chapter song: Kelis' Milkshake

***Oliver's POV*** 

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they're like it's better than yours. Damn right it's better than yours. I can teach you, but I have to charge.

 

You can call me many things: sexy, cocky, and awesome are just a few from that very long list.

But one thing you can’t call me?

Nice.

What the fuck is nice anyway? What’s the first thing you think of when you hear that word?

Puppies, rainbows, and unicorns?

Nice guys, hell, nice people always finish last. That’s why I’m never going over to that side. I know it, my parents know it, even the brats know it.

That’s exactly why Luna looks suspicious of the sweet smile I’m currently wearing. It’s a smile reserved for the babes and whatever it is that can get me laid -- even my mother can’t get one out of me.

“A party?” she asks, hands on her hips. “Mum’s not gonna be happy about that.”

“Mum’s not here now, brat. I’m in charge,” I smile smugly at her.

She grins evilly at me. “No … but I can always tell her about it.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You wouldn’t.”

“We would,” Fred pipes in. “Unless…” he trails off, tapping his finger on his chin as if he was giving this some serious thought.

“We get fifty bucks. Each,” Luna fills in for him, arms folded in front of her chest.

“What the fuck are you both going to do with fifty bucks each?” I ask incredulously. They both were frickin’ toddlers for fuck’s sake; what would they know about money?

She just shrugs. “That’s for us to know and for you to never find out.”

“Oh, and we want entertainment and the stash of snacks you keep in your closet,” Fred adds.

“You little fuckers --”

Luna raises a hand to stop me. “Do you want Mum to find out?”

I was being blackmailed by friggin’ oompa loompas.

“Fine,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Pulling out two fifties from my wallet, I shove them into Luna’s outstretched hand. She smiles smugly before she hands Fred his cut of the cash.

After I get everything their majesties tell me they want, I tell them to head on to the basement where they’ll be staying until the party’s over.

Don’t you fucking look at me like that.

Our basement’s not like those creepy-ass basements in the movies that look like freaking prison cells, and no I won’t find Luna and Fred’s rotting carcasses when I come back down here. It’s actually pretty big and has a lot of room. It has a big ass plasma TV that you can basically call a movie screen complete with cable and Netflix. In one corner is a popcorn machine and a small refrigerator of fruit juice and soda.