#I keep putting it off because I have a new purse I want to switch to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bottlesofrouge · 9 months ago

Text

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part four.

word count: 15K (sorrrry)

warnings: talks of alcohol abuse, minor mentions of homophobia, hinting at a past abusive relationship, bleeding, i think that's it

23 JULY 2018

lynn wakes up late.

she slept through a total of three alarms, fifteen texts, and four phone calls from harry. his incessant banging on her front door was what finally got her out of bed, and by that time, she was already twenty minutes late.

so, she literally rolled out of bed, grabbed her belongings and ran to meet harry at his car. she was sporting old, ratty sweatpants and a t-shirt from her high school mathletes club. glasses replaced her usual contacts and she didn't even have time to brush her teeth.

harry's waiting with his trunk open. he's got on slacks and a stupid button-up top that matches his eyes, and she thinks his hair is slicked back in a way that makes it look a little greasy, but when she gets closer she realizes that it's just wet and also all chopped off. he looks so perfect and pulled together it makes her sick.

"rough night?" he's got his mouth turned upwards in a smirk so big, you'd be blind to miss it. it's annoying and obnoxious, and she makes sure at least one of her bags nudges him on the way into the trunk.

"3am manic episode haircut?" she bites back.

"alright," harry pushes the button to close the trunk. "let's go. we're already late."

the two don't talk for the entire car ride. lynn spends it knocked out with her face pressed against the glass, and she doesn't wake up until harry's shaking her shoulder in the parking lot of the westchester county airport.

he's got all of their bags out of the car already, and he doesn't let lynn carry anything besides her purse. really, there's so many bags. she's got three and he's got two of his own, yet he makes carrying all of them look effortless. like he could do it for ten miles without ever breaking a sweat.

once they've got their bags checked in, lynn drools at the sight of the tsa line. she's so tired. she feels like she could fall asleep using one of the scanner belts as a bed.

she can't tell if harry could read her mind or if she just looked that utterly exhausted because he gently pulls on her elbow, letting her put all of her weight on him. he's got his arms wrapped around her center and his head's on shoulder. she thinks that if she wasn't so tired, she'd push him off. they look like the average teenage couple at an amusement park. how humiliating.

she felt so pathetic leaning on him like this, but lynn couldn't bring herself to move. last night was the first night in practically months that she slept for more than ninety consecutive minutes. it was like every hour of missed sleep was catching up to her all at once, and keeping her eyes open seemed like the most difficult task in the world. she was definitely not god's strongest solider.

"s'nice," she hums, opening her eyes enough to look over at him, "your hair. it suits you."

his face flushes, and she can't help the grin that spreads across her face. she loves making him blush. he'd stumble over his words and avoid eye contact while he spoke. it was cute.

he was cute.

she expects some kind of flustered 'thank you' to come out of his mouth, but it doesn't. instead he puts his palm out to her face, "maybe you should have a mint."

her eyes roll when she straightens herself back up, no longer leaning on him. she goes through the line first, and when harry's bag gets pulled, she slips away into the bathroom wanting to brush every square inch of her mouth before he could notice she was gone.

harry talks to the gate agent to get their seats switched so they could have two next to each other. lynn had asked her first, and the girl behind the desk said it was a completely full flight, but then harry went up there with that stupid grin and his shining green eyes, and came back three minutes later with two new boarding passes and a phone number on a scrap piece of paper.

"unbelievable," lynn mutters, and harry laughs, shoving the piece of paper in his pocket.

"sorry she didn't think you were sexy, blondie," he teases. "do you think maybe it's the stained sweatpants or the mathletes tshirt? personally, i'd say the glasses-"

"i'm not in the mood right now, harry. don't piss me off."

he hums, arms wrapping around her shoulders, "you look cute, lynn. very soccer mom."

she gently shoves him away, but not before he kisses her. it was nothing crazy, just a peck and she's not really sure why he does it, but when lynn looks over at the girl behind the counter, she's already looking back.

lynn knows harry was only teasing, but she pretends to be interested in the way the little car is pushing back a plane at a nearby gate to hide the way tears pool in her eyes. maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe she was extra sensitive today, but the way he spoke about her reminded her of kathleen in the worst way possible.

harry asks to take the window since he was the one to get their seats changed after all, but lynn refuses. he was pissing her off so badly today. all she wanted to do was put in her airpods and go the fuck to sleep.

harry taps her shoulder, leaning in again to ask if they could switch.

"i'm not giving you head."

the flush returns to his face as one of the flight attendants passes by, eyes rolling at lynn's words. lynn watches as she looks up at the seat numbers, mentally making a note of where the two were sitting.

"fuck, lynn. are you kidding me?"

"stop bothering me," she replies, taking his sweatshirt off of his lap and shoving the balled up fabric between her head and the wall. "have a good flight, harry."

he scoffs next to her, opening his mouth to say something else, but lynn's already turning up her music and closing her eyes.

✮✮✮

lynn's family wasn't coming in until later. they were all originally booked on a flight at twelve in the afternoon, but once she saw harry's flight confirmation, she changed hers. it would be unfair to have him wake up so early just to sit alone at the airport for hours on end.

so, she forked over the money to change her flight and the time for the rental car reservation, and while she was at it, she put the car under harry's name so technically, he had be the one doing all the driving. it was just another thing to make this trip easier for her.

she's sitting in the passenger seat of a green kia soul, looking at the text from her mother that just came through.

'Selfish as usual Lynn.'

her parents owned a condo in the keys. they had bought it when she was the only child, so it was small, one bedroom and one bathroom. her aunts were supposed to take it while she stayed with her family in a bigger condo in the same resort, but now that harry was coming, aunt cece wanted lynn and harry to be able to have some alone time, and offered it up.

and who was she to say no? kathleen being completely against it was just a bonus.

"what made you cut all your hair off in the middle of the night?" lynn asks, eyes focused on the water outside of her window. she felt better. well-rested. it was like she was a new person.

"just wanted a change," he says. "probably a 3am manic episode or whatever you called it.

she hums, stretching in her seat before looking over at him. she meant what she said. short hair suited him. lynn might even go as far to say that it looked better than his long hair. significantly better, really.

"i dropped out of college," he says. it's random, but he says it with such urgency, like he's been waiting— itching to tell her. "that night you stayed over. i dropped out that day."

"nice!" she holds her hand up for a high five, but he just looks at her with furrowed brows and his lips slightly parted. "are you really going to leave me hanging?"

"sorry i don't want to celebrate me ruining my life." his tone is cold and sharp, and so different from how he's been towards her all day.

she can't help the way her eyes roll. "college isn't for everyone, harry. i'm a drop out, and look at me."

"my point exactly."

"excuse me?" her chest feels hot, and she sits up in her seat to fully look at him. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"mommy and daddy aren't going to fork over thousands so i can open my own art studio," he says. "you don't know what it's like to have parents who would never dream of supporting you. they're going to kill me when i tell them."

"you don't fucking know me, harry," she's cut off my another text coming through.

'Shouldn't have expected anything less.'

✮✮✮

"did you want something with jackie?" lynn's sitting on the couch of the condo, and harry's leaning back next to her in a recliner that probably cost more than the bakery's monthly rent. there's an end table between them which held lynn's nearly empty wine glass and a bottle of ibuprofen so big, it cost her a whopping thirty five dollars. "did i ruin that? is that why you're always so upset with me?"

the two haven't spoken since the car ride from the airport. harry wordlessly pulled in to a gas station, and lynn went inside while he pumped the gas. she came out with two bottles of white wine and her precious ibuprofen to find him in the passenger seat.

their bags were thrown in the single bedroom as soon as they walked in. lynn carried in her purse and gas station wine and by the time she figured out how to unlock the door, harry was behind her with all five pieces of luggage.

she hated how much of a gentleman he was.

"i don't date, lynn." his eyes never leave his phone screen.

"sure you do. if you found the right person."

"you think my right person is someone who screws her best friends boyfriend?" he looks up at her and pops the piece of gum he's been chewing since they got on the plane in new york. the way he's chewing should be a felony.

lynn thinks she's going to need more wine to finish the conversation, so she gets up to refill her glass. she feels a little light on her feet when she walks, and perhaps she should stop while she's ahead.

she contemplates it for a second in the kitchen, but she's had a rough day. lynn tips the wine bottle into her glass until it's empty.

"i get the feeling that you don't really like me," she takes her seat on the couch again. "and i know it's not all unwarranted. i've had my bad moments."

harry looks up, eyeing the way her finger traces the stem of her over poured glass of wine. "i think you should stop drinking."

she nods, not in agreement, but in a way that meant she knew harry would say something like that. "right."

he sighs and sets his phone on the table. "jackie was a friend." his shoulders move up. "she was hot so we slept together."

she brings the wine glass up to her lips, taking a gulp so big, harry could probably see the way it moves down her throat.

"our relationship is so different than that, lynn. you know parts of me that no one else does and i don't even know your middle name."

she waves her hand dismissively, "why don't you just ask?"

"because the one time i was vulnerable with you," he spits. "you threw it right back in my face."

there's so much anger laced in his voice, it makes lynn's stomach hurt. that hot feeling comes seeping into her chest, and she tries to hide the tears brimming in her eyes behind another hefty sip of wine.

"i'm sorry," her voice cracks, and she expects harry to soften up just a little bit. "i shouldn't have. i just-"

"you just what?" his eyebrow's are furrowed when he speaks and lynn looks down to see his fists clenched around nothing.

he was still so mad at her.

"i was jealous of the way that you were with her," lynn admits. they were rarely ever so honest with each other, saying it made her feel like she just stood up and stripped naked in the middle of the room.

"jealous that i was fucking her? because we can fix that."

her eyes close, and she brings the glass to her lips again. she loathes the way harry can turn what feels like the most innocent of conversations into something sexual. maybe one day he'd see her for more than just her body.

"you were kind to her," her voice is quiet and soft, like she was telling him her inner most secrets. "and i wanted you to be kind to me, too."

"because you have been so kind to me?" harry's mouth thinned and eyes narrowed with his words.

"yeah, well. i guess not," lynn laughs a little to hide the way a tear spilled over. "i mean i tried to be when we first met at that stupid barbecue and you hated-"

"i didn't want to be there," he interrupts. "i was having a horrible day and my mom trying to set me up just pushed me over the edge."

"how do you think i felt?" her eyes are pleading with him as she speaks. lynn's not really sure what she's asking for, but she thinks she gets it when he takes a deep breath through his nose and his shoulders fall with his exhale.

"if i hated you, i wouldn't have given you my bed," he speaks without breaking eye contact. "and i definitely wouldn't have spent hours making two different meals for you."

"why did you do that?"

he shrugs. "i wanted to."

"but why?"

"i don't fucking know, lynn."

it's falls silent, and she finishes her glass of wine. when she sets the empty glass down on the table, it almost tips over, but harry's quick to catch it and pull it away from her.

maybe he was being more attentive than she thought.

"my grandma paid for my bakery," she hiccups. "left me all this money in her will with a letter that said to spend it on something that would make me happy."

lynn watches as his face softens and his shoulders slouch over in the chair.

"i know what it's like to do it all on your own. my parents never supported me, harry. not once. and i guess i had the financial support, but it came with my grandma dying which is so fucking devastating because she was the only one to ever want something more for me."

the room starts to feel hotter the more she thinks about it. her jaw clenches and all she can see is red. it was so unfair.

"lynn, i didn't know."

"no one knows because i'm never in that bakery." she seethes. "i opened it because i love to bake, and now i sit an in office and do paperwork and payroll every second that isn't taken up by raising two kids that aren't even mine."

"you don't have to raise them. it wouldn't hurt to take a step back," he looks pained almost when he speaks, and lynn's jaw drops at his words, a stare of blank amazement written all over her face. how could he be so stupid?

"i've lived the life that doing that would give them, and it fucking sucks. i don't want them to ever feel like that."

she doesn't even realize she's crying until it's quiet between them and she can finally hear the quiet sobs that come bubbling up from her chest.

"my parents pay for everything," harry blurts. she's turned so she doesn't have to look at him, but she can hear the frantic sound in his voice. it's like he's scrambling to make sense of what just happened between them. offering her whatever reasoning he can to explain why he just acted the way he did. "i've been so stressed thinking about what's going to happen when they find out, and i took it out on you when i shouldn't have. i'm sorry."

"if you needed help with money, there's always a job for you at my bakery, harry. you have to get it through your thick skull that you just need to ask for help."

"i don't want hand outs."

lynn can't help the way she laughs out loud, "it's a job. you actually have to work for what you make. i know that's probably a foreign concept for you."

a knock at the door interrupts them, and harry stands up to answer it. when the door swings open, kathleen's already walking inside. she's got her sunglasses on and her arms are crossed in front of her and god, lynn knew this was going to break her.

"harry, hi!" she kisses his cheek. "i hope your travels were good. i know how lynn can be."

she hears them laugh, and lynn uses the tips of her fingers to push the tears back into her eyes. she was not going to give either of them the satisfaction of watching her cry. again.

kathleen walks past him, standing on the other side of the coffee table to block the window lynn was pretending to look out of.

"confining your poor aunts to a small bedroom, i raised you better than this, lynn adams."

"aunt cece insisted on trading with us, mom," her words were soft. if she spoke any louder, she knew her voice would waver. "harry would be more comfortable here, and silas would actually have space when he comes."

kathleen looks over to harry who is staring back at the two wide-eyed.

"it was an empty offer, lynn. you of all people should be familiar with those."

lynn wants to scream at her mom because what the fuck is that supposed to mean. she knows her mom's probably upset that she had to watch her own two children on a three hour flight, but lynn doesn't want to push it. instead, she just blinks. she's so miserable.

"breakfast is at 8 tomorrow. don't be late," she goes to leave but turns back after a step. "i hope you can pull yourself together enough to not look like you belong under an underpass."

"i've raised you to take pride in your appearance," kathleen takes a step towards lynn with every hateful word she spews until she's practically in her face. her fingers pinch the sleeve of the t-shirt the girl's wearing. "this is embarrassing for me, lynn."

kathleen stands up, clapping her hands together like she didn't just humiliate her daughter, and turns to harry with the biggest smile on her face.

"sorry, harry. i'm sure you're well accustomed with just how selfish she can be," she kisses his cheek on the way to the door. "we are so glad you could join us. see you tomorrow."

she walks out of the door, and harry stays frozen in place. he's got those same wide doe eyes, and his lips are parted. his eyebrows are drawn together, and lynn can't help but look away. she hated when people pitied her.

there's a watery smile sat on her face, and she forces a teasing laugh, "how's that for being vulnerable?"

"i didn't know she treated you like that," harry says after a moment.

"she's just having a bad day," lynn shrugs. the way she says it is almost convincing, but when lynn finally gets a good read on the look in harry's eyes, she breaks. nasty sobs, ones so big they take her breath away, fall from her mouth, and she buries her face into her hands, wishing nothing more than to never be perceived by the boy standing in front of her again.

harry doesn't say anything, and instead sits down next to her. she feels his hands pressing against her back and fingers squeezing her shoulders, and when it's not enough, he pulls her into him with such force it almost hurts. his lips press against the side of her head before he tucks her head under his chin and squeezes her as tight as he can until she feels like she can finally catch her breath again.

"i don't want to be here," lynn confesses. it's quiet and harry barely catches it, but when it registers, he presses his lips against her hair and rubs his hand up and down her arm.

"i know," she can feel the words vibrate in his chest. "i'd say we go home right now, but i don't think you'd want that."

she shakes her head. "i don't want to leave my sisters here without me."

"you've got me here," he offers. "we can have fun with them."

lynn snorts. "we can't go eight hours without ripping each other's heads off."

she says it like it's a scientifically proven fact. like nothing could ever change that, yet she's holding on to his shirt like he's the only thing keeping her all put together. if he were to let her go, she'd break into a million pieces.

"i'm sorry for earlier," harry says. "i was such a dick."

"it's okay," she hums.

"it's not," his thumbs rub circles against her skin when he speaks. "i never want me treating you like that to be okay."

lynn can't help herself, "i don't think you'd be saying that if you didn't see how my mother treated me."

"probably not," he admits. "i still would've been wrong, though. i don't want to be someone you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around, lynn."

lynn hums and leans into him more, and harry pulls her closer, his grip tightening. there's probably going to be bruises left behind on her skin from just how tightly he's holding her against him.

she wishes the marks would stay forever so she could always remember the way she wasn't left to put herself together all on her own for once. she'd probably press her fingertips into them every time she felt so broken and alone, desperately hoping to feel the way she does now.

"i should be the one apologizing," her voice is raw. "i've been just as terrible to you. probably even worse."

"you're kind, too," harry mouths against her temple. "especially when it matters, s'where i lack. i'm not very good at being kind."

she leans back, scoffing. "not very good at being kind? look at you now."

he loosens his arms, but they still stay around her like he's scared to let her go. harry's cheeks turn pink, and he brings one hand up to use the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe the tears from under her eyes.

"yeah well," he laughs lightly. "i don't like seeing you upset."

her eyebrow raises, and she looks at him skeptically.

"i hate being the one who upsets you even more," his fingers pull her hair away from her sticky cheeks and tucks the strands behind her ear. "i don't know. i think we should've spent some time getting to know each other a bit more before we started all of this."

"would've changed your mind after realizing just how much of a bitch i was, huh?"

she's got a teasing smile on her lips, but harry just frowns. "lynn, no. that's not it at all."

"i was kidding," she chews her lips, looking down to smooth out the collar of his shirt. "kind of. i was a bitch."

"and i've been been a dick so we can call it even. i just— i don't know. this was supposed to make our lives easier, and i feel like we're just constantly hurting or upsetting each other."

"yeah," she hums. "do you want to go home?"

"no. of course not. that's not what i meant." he sighs, and lynn leans back. his hands still loosely sit on her arms, but there's space between them now.

"i think we could use this trip to get to know each other," lynn says. "communicate more, set some boundaries. being more comfortable with each other physically wouldn't kill either. i know my mom would start to have some questions if she constantly walked in on us nine feet apart from each other."

"yeah, i agree."

"are you okay if we maybe just sit here for a minute?" she asks. "together? you know, to get more comfortable with each other?"

"yeah, let me just.." he moves so he's got his back against a pillow propped up on the arm of the couch. harry takes lynn with him, so she's curled up against his side, head resting on his chest. he's got his arm around her and she can feel like way his fingertips trail from her hip to her ribcage and then back down. "there."

they're only like that for a minute before she starts crying again. "m'sorry."

"don't be," his voice matches the intensity of hers. he takes a deep breath, and then, "i've got you, blondie. just like you had me."

"m'not usually this weepy," she says. "haven't been in a while."

harry doesn't say anything at first, and lynn can feel the way his heart beat quickens when he opens his mouth, "does your mom treat your sisters like that, too?"

"i don't think so," she hums. "she's not always that intense either. s'why i stay around so much. i'd rather it be me than them."

maybe it's the bottle of wine, or maybe harry's just made her feel that comfortable. "she's better with them. when i was a baby, i had an au pair. my dad had an affair with her, and moved out before i was even one. i think she blames me for that. like their marriage would be so different if i hadn't been born."

"lynn, i-"

she's quick to sit up on her forearm, pressing her palm to harry's mouth. "i think it's the wine that's got me spilling all my secrets. don't reply to that."

"i just wish you had better," he says, and lynn can't help the watery grin that spreads across her face.

"me too," she hums. he's looking at her in a way she can't really read, and she's looking back with old tears drying on her cheeks and fresh ones pooling in her eyes.

lynn sits up when all the glances and touches start to feel like maybe she'd like to be trapped underneath him, his lips pressed against hers until she couldn't breathe anymore.

she'd blame that last thought on the wine.

"we passed a chinese spot on the way in," she says.

"but we just had chinese."

"but chicken lo mein?" lynn's rubbing her belly like she's absolutely famished. "god, i'm so hungry."

harry laughs, and lynn can't help but stare. his eyes wrinkled at the sides and his dimples came out, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't find it cute.

"let me get the keys."

"perfect. let me go change."

"don't," he catches her wrist. "your mom has to be so fucking miserable. you look fine." he's looking at her with such intensity, it makes her stomach hurt.

"you're not embarrassed by this?" her voice is soft. she's still got her mathlete's t-shirt on, but she swapped the sweatpants for a pair of shorts.

"fuck no," he says. "i was just teasing you at the airport, lynn. you look pretty, really. you always do."

her cheeks warm, and she pretends to fix her hair in the reflection of the t.v. to hide it.

"maybe no more teasing about how i look."

"of course," he moves next to her, doing the same to his hair. "should've punched me in the face and told me to shut the fuck up. m'sorry, lynn."

"s'okay," she laughs lightly, catching his eye in the reflection. "i think we owe ourselves a fresh start.”

"i think so, too."

they share a two top table in the corner of a small hole in the wall chinese restaurant that took forever to get to. harry orders for them, swapping both of their usual meals for something a bit bigger. lynn got general tso’s chicken with lo mein as a side, and harry asked for beef and broccoli with a side of his usual fried rice.

they ate in silence for a few minutes, each being too hungry to talk, but once the hunger pains subsided, harry started to make a list in the notes app of his phone.

“touching’s okay,” lynn says around her fork. “but maybe we should ask before kissing. at least until it’s something we’re both really comfortable with.”

harry nods in agreement, making it the fourth bullet point in the list. it fell behind communicating better, no more sex jokes, and no more pushing each other too far.

lynn hums in contentment at the list. her brain felt fuzzy and focusing on coming up with another bullet point felt like the hardest task ever, so she moved her attention to the chicken in front of her until harry turned his phone around.

stand up for each other when it comes to our parents

lynn grins at him, “i like that one. maybe we can add no more labeling it as an open relationship if that’s okay with you. you can still see other people, just have to be a little more careful with it.”

harry types it out, and then turns his phone around. written under it, “friends are off limits.”

the two stay in the restaurant for an hour making the list. at the end, they’ve gone through six fortune cookies and three pots of green tea and have compiled a whopping forty five bullet points.

on the way back harry makes a wrong turn, or that’s what lynn thinks, and they end up in the parking lot of a 24 hour winn dixie.

"i thought i could get us more wine," he says. "and you could get some things to bake while we're here. we could make jane a birthday cake.”

"harry..."

he shrugs. "you don't have to. i just thought maybe you’d want to.”

she can't hold back her grin as they walk towards the aisle, and it makes harry smile, too. they stay in there for nearly an hour, and lynn can hear him muffling a yawn with his hand every so often, but harry never once complains.

when they’re finally back, harry carries all of the groceries inside while lynn unlocks the door. she changes into her pajamas and harry puts all the groceries into empty cabinets.

later, they’re both sitting in the living room, some random tv show playing quietly in the background. lynn felt like she has lived a hundred different lives today, yet the fact that the two are where they are now made every ounce of anger and every tear she’d worth it.

"drew," her voice is quiet when she speaks, a little scratchy from staying quiet for so long.

"what about him?"

"that's my middle name."

"you're kidding," the corners of harry’s mouth are upturned slightly, unsure if he should laugh or not.

she shakes her head. "my parents wanted a boy."

and really, they never wanted her. lynn was just the starting point of the biggest fuck up in their marriage. she held her mom back in her career, and was probably the only reason her parents even got back together in the first place.

"what's up, blondie?" harry’s looking at her with soft eyes.

"hm?"

"what're you thinking about?"

she hums for a second, debating if she should ruin this good place they just got to with her own mommy issues.

“just how badly i want to crawl into bed.”

harry stands up, and returns back with a pillow and blanket in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

“go,” he pushes the wine towards her. “i’ve got the couch.”

“thank you,” she takes the glass from his hand, weakly smiling at him, and he returns it with one of those smiles he gave jane that night in her playroom. it's bright and beautiful.

and more importantly, it's all for her.

24 JULY 2018

lynn starts her morning with her face in the toilet bowl. she really shouldn't have had that much wine last night, but she couldn't help herself. she was so incredibly tired, yet nothing was helping her fall asleep.

there's a soft knock at door, and lynn groans. her face is sticky and she's got it pressed against the ceramic of the sink trying to cool herself down.

"come in."

"oh, blondie," harry's pushing the door open. he's got a large cup full of ice water and the container of ibuprofen in his hand. "i didn't think you drank that much."

"had more after you went to sleep," she groans, hunching back over the toilet. "finished the second bottle and maybe half of the third."

"you should've woken me up," he sits next to her on the floor. his hands pull down her shirt to cover her exposed skin, and then run across her back as she gets sick again.

"gross," he reaches up to flush the toilet.

she scowls over at him, "at least you aren't covered in it."

his shoulders draw together, cringing at the thought. "not my best moment."

it's quiet between them as lynn lowers the lid of the toilet. her arms cross on top of it, and she rests her head on her arms, sighing at just how terrible she feels.

"feeling any better?" he reaches for her face, pushing her hair off of her sweaty forehead.

she shakes her head, and harry unscrews the cap of the ibuprofen. a few fall into his hand, and he nudges them past her lips, bringing the cup of water to her mouth after.

"thank you," she takes the cup from him, gulping half of it before setting it back down on the floor.

"why don't you get back in bed?"

"that stupid breakfast," she mutters. "can you start the shower when you leave?"

lynn finds harry sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. he's wearing a pair of black swim trunks and a yellow button up top. his sunglasses pushed his hair away from her face, and the whole room smelled like banana boat sunscreen.

she sighs before sitting in the chair to slip her sandals on. "ready?"

"are you sure you want to go?"

she shakes her head, "but we have to. i just want to get it over with."

the two walk to the resort restaurant holding hands. it feels almost corny to lynn. to be doing this when she's pushing thirty, but maybe that's just because she doesn't think she's ever seen her parents hold hands. they never really show affection.

jane squeals when she sees harry, jumping up from her spot at the table and running to cling to his leg.

"oh, sunflower," he bends down to pick her up, letting her sit on his hip. "i've missed you."

"you saw me the other day," her arms cross like she's mad at harry for forgetting.

"i know," he pinches her side. "i still missed you."

harry wraps his free hand around lynn's back, resting it on her hip and pulling her closer to the two, "no hello, jane?"

the little girl huffs, turning away from her sister. "you left me alone yesterday on the plane."

lynn goes to reply, but harry beats her to it, "m'sorry. i needed lynn to come with me, janey." his voice lowers. "i'm scared of planes."

jane gasps, hand flying to her mouth in a way that's so dramatic it has harry and lynn giggling.

"you're late lynn," her mother is sitting at the head of the table, eyes glancing at her watch.

"that's my fault, ms. kathleen," harry's putting jane back in her chair. "i wasn't feeling my best when i woke up."

kathleen doesn't respond, and lynn wraps her arms around amelia's neck, bending down to kiss her cheek to hide her growing smile.

harry and lynn sit across from each other, with a sister on either side of them. lynn scoots her chair closer to amelia, engaging in conversation about anything her sister wanted to talk about. she felt like the girl was pulling away from her now that she was getting older, and lynn found herself desperately wishing to go back to a year ago when melia would sit under the covers of her bed, spilling her innermost thoughts to her older sister.

she tried to keep her attention fully on amelia as she spoke, but lynn couldn't resist the urge to steal a glance at the two across from her every so often. jane usually had her hand in the air, waving around a green crayon triumphantly while harry had his face in his hands, quietly weeping over another lost game of tic tac toe.

"ugh, you're gushing over him," amelia whines. "you're not even listening."

"am not," lynn brings her mug up to her lips. "you were talking about how mr. fielder was being unfair with your last geometry quiz. he gave you a 72 and you think you deserve an 80."

"it was algebra," she rolls her eyes, turning her attention to her phone.

harry's looking over with furrowed brows and lynn shrugs, not really knowing why her sister seemed so upset with her. the only part she had gotten wrong was the type of math class. sue her.

when they're finished eating, kathleen and peter leave without saying a word, and lynn realizes they're stuck with amelia and jane. it was so like her mother to invite her just to play babysitter.

jane decides she wants to go to beach, so the two older girls follow while harry stops back at the condo to get everything he needed.

lynn's sitting on one of the lounge chairs, rubbing sunscreen into jane's skin when harry joins them again. he's got an overflowing beach bag on his shoulder, two of lynn's water bottles filled to the brim in one hand, and a book from her carry-on and her pair of forgotten sunglasses in the other.

god, he was a dream.

"why don't you rest?" harry sits down next to her, pulling jane's life vest from the bottom of the bag. "i've got them today."

"it's your vacation, too, harry. i can't-"

"please," he says. "take a break. you deserve it."

"okay," there's a small smile on her lips when she speaks, and it grows even more when harry leans in and asks if he can kiss her.

he doesn't though, even when lynn says yes. instead, he focuses on clipping jane's life vest and pulling the tabs to make sure it's tightened properly.

"all set, sunflower. are you coming, amelia?" the girl shakes her head, moving to sit on the lounger next to lynn's instead.

harry leans in and presses his lips against lynn's, just like he did in the parking lot of jane's recital. it's short and sweet and he pulls back just a little before kissing her again. and again. and again.

lynn's leaning back against the lounge chair and harry's chasing her, kissing her face wherever his lips could reach. she's laughing the kind of laugh that pinches in her side as she pushes her palms up to harry's lips, stopping his scruff from tickling her.

he kisses her palms once. twice. and then looks at her over her finger tips, mumbling something about being safe, and then he's gone, running to the water with jane's hand in his.

lynn's palms press against her cheeks, wondering if they were as hot as they felt. god, she was blushing.

she's about to open the bag to see what else harry had packed, but she hears her sister scoff next to her, and when she looks over, the younger girl is glaring.

"something wrong, amelia?"

"you're drinking again," she states. "i can see it. you're hungover."

"i'm twenty seven. i can have a hangover," lynn bites back the snippy remark she has on the tip of her tongue because she knows that what she did to amelia will probably forever be burned into her brain.

after her last relationship, she dropped out of college and moved home. she sat in bed everyday, staring at the wall. all of her friends were states away, and it didn't really matter anyway. he had isolated her so badly, the only thing she had to keep her company were her thoughts.

so she drank. because she needed them to stop. because she'd do anything for a few hours of peace and quiet.

some nights she drank so much she'd sleep throughout the entire next day and other times she'd have to move her mattress into the bathroom. lynn hasn't made herself sick in forever. today being an exception.

however, on her worst night, she blacked out, only coming to the next morning in a hospital bed. she had passed out on the stairs in her parents house, leaving a nine year old amelia to find her.

so if amelia was upset about her drinking, she understood. but lynn wasn't twenty one anymore. she went to therapy, she did the work, and she was better. if she wanted to have a few glasses of wine to unwind she would. she deserved it.

"you've only started drinking after you met him," she points out.

"not true, and this has nothing to do with him, mels. it isn't like last time. i promise."

amelia doesn't say anything. instead, she turns on her side away from lynn.

25 JULY 2018

harry blindly searches for his phone on the nightstand in the dark, his palm sliding against the smooth surface to no avail. he groans and rubs his eyes trying to get the sleep out of them before moving to look under the bed.

he finds his phone plugged into the charger on the bathroom counter, not really remembering how it got there. being in the sun all day had him sleeping so hard, he felt like he was still in a dream.

harry splashes some water on his face and looks in the mirror, suddenly becoming aware of just how thirsty he is. cupping his hand under the bathroom sink wasn't going to cut it. he needed the biggest glass of ice cold water he could find.

he moves into the living area, finding lynn sitting on the couch. the dim glow of the television lit up her face as she focused on reading the subtitles that flashed on the screen.

"hey," his voice is low and scratchy, and lynn jumps at the sudden sound. "can't sleep?"

she shakes her head. "not really. what about you?"

"woke up just absolutely parched."

lynn laughs under her breath and pats the couch cushion next to her. "sit. i've got it."

she's already standing, and harry thinks the long twenty step trek to the kitchen seemed so far, so he sits. there's an old rerun of the office on, and lynn's got the volume so low he can barely make out the words. harry wonders if it's like that because she didn't want to wake or because she didn't want him to know she was awake.

he turns up the volume before she sits down, a glass of water in one hand and what he assumes is a mug of tea in the other. harry thanks her, settling into the comfort of the couch.

"go to sleep. you're tired," she says against the lip of her mug, and harry wants to because he is exhausted, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about lynn sitting out here all by herself if he was went back into the room.

"and you're not?" he could tell she was just as tired as he was. probably even more. she spent the whole day soaking in the sun with a book in her hand. never once did he come out of the water to find her with her eyes closed.

"i am," her fingers reach for the remote to turn down the volume again. "i just have trouble sleeping sometimes."

"take the bed," lynn's quick to shake her head in protest. "i'm serious, blondie. i could knock out on the floor with a beach towel for a pillow. take the bed, please."

"m'not gonna sleep either way," she mumbles. "you might as well be comfy."

when she looks over at him, harry notices just how slowly she blinks. it's like she's in a daze, glassy eyes barely focusing when they're open. his hand rests on her ankle, thumb brushing over her skin, and she hums in response. he doesn't think she's slept since the plane ride two days ago.

"why don't we share the bed?" her eyes snap open, and she's looking at him like he's said something absolutely absurd. like he's crazy for even thinking the two of them could fit in the california king. "or we can sit out here and watch office reruns. i'm not picky."

"can we watch tv in bed?" she's got a lazy smile on her lips.

"sure," harry squeezes her ankle before helping her up.

when they get into the bedroom, lynn gets under the covers while harry goes to the bathroom to retrieve his phone and plug it into the outlet near the nightstand.

"shall we build one of those pillow walls or whatever they do in every rom com?" he's standing over the bed, stretching out his sore shoulders.

lynn laughs, head tilting back a little, and harry can't help the wave of satisfaction that washes over him because he has her laughing even though she's clearly miserable.

"are you saying you picture us as the two main characters in a rom com, harry styles?" she pats the spot next to her. "we've shared a bed before. shut out the light and get in."

harry's quick to turn the lamp off, wanting nothing more than to hide the flush of his face from the growing heat to his cheeks. he definitely didn't have a crush on her, but if she asked him to kiss her goodnight right now, he wouldn't really be opposed.

as soon as his face hits the pillow, harry feels his eyelids getting heavy. he's not sure if it was the sun or all the swimming around with jane clinging to his side, but he's certain he's never been so tired in his life.

"sorry, i just-" lynn's turning on her phone flashlight, illuminating the small room. harry hears her soft foot steps as she shuts the bedroom door, the click of a lock following right after. the light turns off, and harry feels the bed dip beside him again. "sorry."

"no reason to apologize, blondie."

it's quiet again, and harry feels himself dozing off even with the tv on. lynn keeps the sound down just like before, and opts for some subtitles instead.

"you can turn it up," he speaks with his eyes closed. "i could probably sleep through an explosion."

"s'for me. not you," harry's back is turned toward her, but he can hear the eye roll in her voice. "can't sleep with the sound on."

"right," because he definitely should've known that. how could he be so stupid?

harry doesn't mean to get annoyed with lynn. he really doesn't, but she is so fidgety. she's tossing and turning and rubbing her feet together under the covers. she bites the skin around her nails, and then drops her hands next to her in a way that has the entire bed moving.

and usually, harry would be able to sleep through every shake of the bed and every sigh that fell from her lips. during his freshman year, his roommate admitted to consistently fucking his girlfriend while harry slept soundly... on the bunk above them.

needless to say, he was a heavy sleeper. at least he thought he was. maybe he was having an off night, or maybe it was because lynn was the one sleeping next to him. he didn't really care to know which.

lynn gets up again. this time she decides to use the glow of the television instead of her flashlight. harry hears the click of the bedroom lock, and then shortly after the click of the deadbolt to the actual front door of the condo.

she comes back to the room, shutting and locking the door behind her, and then she twists the knob twice, ensuring it's locked.

he rolls over to face her, "got everything locked up?"

"yeah, i think so," she hums, and harry expects her to relax. maybe lean into the pillow and close her eyes. instead she bites the side of her thumb, and then, "maybe i should check again."

his arm comes out, pushing her back against the mattress. "i've got it."

harry stumbles out of the room, too tired to hold himself up properly. the weight of him has his shoulders slouching and his half closed eyes have him tripping over literal air. he checks the lock on the front door, and then goes to the kitchen to find the keys to it.

he slips them off of the key ring, and then stops before he gets back to the bedroom, running his fingers along the top of the door frame to search for the small key that usually sits on top of it.

he locks the bedroom door behind him, twisting the knobs twice, just like lynn did, and then he gets into bed and searches for her hand under the covers.

"here," harry presses the keys into her palm. "you've got the keys, lynn, everything's locked and no one's getting in."

"thank you," her voice is watery just like it was when she sat in his lap and fell apart the day prior. "the last time i was here was with him."

and harry doesn't really know who she's talking about. he assumes an ex, and feels a burn in his chest at the realization.

she missed him so much, she couldn't sleep.

he wonders if they've shared this bed before, too. if lynn clung to him with tears in her eyes on the couch. maybe he spent hours with her sisters, just so she could breathe for a second, just like harry did. kathy and peter probably loved the guy. harry bets he got more than a head nod when they all sat down for meals.

harry hums in response, too tired to try and form a sentence that doesn't come across like he's a little pissed off. there's no reason for him to be.

he stays awake for a bit longer, reading the subtitles off of the tv. when he notices lynn's breathing slowing, he looks over to see her eyes shut. harry closes his, melting into the mattress and finally falling asleep.

25 JULY 2018

harry thinks lynn is probably the heaviest sleeper in existence.

she's got her face pressed against the pillow, her mouth is open, and he is definitely watching her while she sleeps. it's not that he means to. really, he doesn't. he just doesn't think he's ever seen someone sleep so soundly in his entire life.

the truth is, if anyone deserves a good night's sleep, it's lynn. she was always so busy running between work and taking care of her sisters, and whatever time she did have left over was spent sitting at a dinner table with his parents or at a bar with gemma and drew. it was almost weird to see her without the little worry wrinkle that seemed to be permanently stamped between her eyebrows.

harry slips out of bed, making sure she's still tucked into the sheets in the process. he stops himself from leaning down and pressing his lips against the crown of her head because even his sleep-dazed brain knew that would be insanely crazy.

the coffee lynn had picked out a few nights prior at the grocery store is sitting on the counter, silently begging to be brewed. harry starts a pot for both of them to share, leaning against the counter as the machine hums and splutters as it starts to brew. a sigh pushes past his lips, and he decides that the ache in his chest was something more than leftover heartburn from last night's dinner.

he misses oliver so much.

maybe it's a little selfish, but he can't help but wish that it were oliver here with him instead. they'd probably spend lazy mornings in between the sheets before harry would reluctantly pull himself away to make oliver his favorite breakfast, hoping to get a hundred thank you kisses in return.

and then oliver would probably come out of their room freshly showered, with a smile so big sitting on his lips, it'd make harry's chest physically hurt just because he loved him so much. he'd press kisses to harry's shoulders and his neck and all the way up to his chin before finally kissing his mouth, parting with a quiet 'thank you'. oliver was always so appreciative, and harry thinks he’ll never love anyone as much as he loved the boy.

his daydream comes to an end when he sees lynn walking out of the bedroom with her hair all messy and pulled away from her face. she's still got her pajamas on and there's sleep in her eyes, evidently still tired from last night.

"how do you like your coffee?"

"just cream," lynn’s voice is raspy. "thanks."

she sits on one of the stools in front of him and he pushes the mug towards her before filling up another one with black coffee and setting it in front of himself.

he takes a sip, and then, "sleep good?"

"really good actually," she offers him a small smile. it's shy, almost like she's trying to hide it and stop it from growing any wider. harry’s decided that’s a tell that her smile is genuine. "i know you wanted to sit out today, but do you think you could sit with me in here for a bit after? just until i fall asleep."

"yeah, of course," he says. "yesterday wore me out. i could use a nap, too."

"perfect,” her mug sits at against her lips. “it’s a date, then.”

if it were up to harry, the two would spend the entire day locked away in the room and underneath all of the covers. he was exhausted, and he knew lynn was, too. she's sitting in front of him, eyes glued to her reflection in the marble counter, and she's not saying a word.

"your aunt cece is going to be at breakfast, right?"

lynn nods around a sip of coffee. "and aunt rosie. they got in last night."

"good," he says. "they're lovely."

"they are," lynn agrees. "it’s crazy to think that cece and my mom grew up in the same house."

and harry doesn't know if he should agree or not, but when they're all sitting at the beach after breakfast, he thinks he definitely does.

aunt cece is sitting on a lounger next to him while lynn plays in the water with her sisters. rosie is on the other side of her and peter and kathy are god knows where. it's quiet between the two at first, each just soaking up the sun, and then aunt cece turns her head to look at him.

"lynn told me that you're queer," aunt cece says. "sorry if that was forward of me."

harry doesn't really know what to say, or where exactly this conversation is going so he just nods and sits up a little straighter in his chair. "i am. it's not something i'm really open about though."

"if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering what your views on sexuality are," the older woman replies. "i'm a human sexuality professor. i'm not sure if lynn told you that, but i've been grading the last of these final exams, and i want to see what you think. would you say sexuality is black and white or more of a spectrum?"

"i think it would depend on the person," harry answers. "for me, i'd say more of a spectrum. when i'm with lynn, i feel more on the straight side. i don't know. it sounds stupid. my queerness is still there, but i feel like it's invisible almost to those around me and i think their perceptions affect the way i view myself, too. when i was with my ex boyfriend, it was the opposite. i don't necessarily think it's a bad thing. i don’t mind either way.”

"told you, cecilia," rosie says from next to them. she's looking at her wife with such fondness in her eyes, it makes harry a little jealous.

"whatever," the other woman rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed before turning her attention back to harry. "most of my queer students said the same. i was wondering if it was just an age thing."

he tilts his head for a second because he's the same age as aunt cece's college students, but before he can ask what he means, she's opening her mouth again.

"why aren't you open about your sexuality?"

harry's not embarrassed of his queerness, and it's not something he outright hides. he doesn't really like to use the term "closeted" to describe himself, but he did only tell people he was completely comfortable with.

"i'm not ashamed if that's what you think," he replies. "it's my family. it's just easier if i keep that part tucked away."

"i'm sorry to hear that," the older woman is so sincere when she speaks. "there's always room for you in my family, harry. rose and i will always be just a phone call away, even if you and lynn aren’t together anymore."

"it's been forever since she's brought someone around," rosie leans forward. "i don't see you going away any time soon."

there's a burning in the back of his throat, and he's trying so hard not to let tears pool his eyes, "thank you."

aunt cece leans forward to squeeze his hand, and harry thinks it's about to be the final straw. the tears are about to start flooding.

"what'd you do to my boyfriend, aunt cece?" lynn's sitting down on the edge of his lounger. the salt water dripping from her hair feels so good on his skin. "got him all teary eyed."

"your aunt was just telling him how much we love having him around," rosie speaks for her wife.

"we do love having him around," jane joins them, digging in harry's bag to look for her sand bucket.

lynn's thumb brushes away the singular tear he lets fall before anyone else can see, and presses her lips against his temple. "you feeling okay?"

and he nods, leaning his head against her shoulder. he feels more than okay. harry thinks he's never felt so loved in his entire life.

and yet, every part of it is fake.

✮✮✮

"wanna go make out in the water?" lynn giggles at the warmth of harry's words against her skin, and turns her head over to look at him. he's got a lopsided smile on his face, and he moves hand to rest on top of hers, squeezing once. "we don't have to. i'm just kind of bored."

"and making out with me is more exciting than ogling half of chi omega?" she tips her head back, alluding to the group of fake blondes all stretched out across the loungers next to them.

"i'm only looking at you, blondie," she feels his words deep in her stomach and prays to god they don't reflect in her face. the two were laying on their towels in the sand, inches apart. he'd definitely be able to notice if a blush made its way to her cheeks.

she rolls her eyes, pulling her sunglasses down off of her head to let her hair try and hide her probably pink cheeks, and then she pushes herself up on to her knees, "are you coming or what?"

"can i come?" jane's moving in between them, her big, blue eyes looking up at harry. "please, harry."

"not today, janey," he squeezes just above the girl's elbow, the devastation evident in her face. "tomorrow, though. i promise."

jane sighs, but doesn't press further. instead she sulks back over to her aunts, stopping to pick up any seashells she could use to decorate her castle on the way.

they walk into the water together and lynn wets her hair, pushing it out of her face and moving her sunglasses back up to hold it in place.

"alright. how should we do this?"

harry laughs. he's got his sunglasses over his eyes, but the way his dimples pop out has lynn guessing that his eyes are shining, too. it reminds her of luke’s sunshine smiles. harry’s are different though. the warmth and happiness are so obvious across his entire face. he practically embodied sunshine.

"you're making it sound like a chore, lynn."

"am not."

and really she wasn't. she was trying her best to not explode with excitement. she'd never tell harry, his ego was big enough as it is, but he was a good kisser, and she's been thinking about the way his mouth felt against hers ever since that night at his apartment.

"come closer," he reaches for her, pulling her into him. his lips press against her hairline, and then they disappear. "gotta warm up to it."

"i'm a bit out of practice," she admits. "don't laugh if i'm bad."

"never," she rests her head on top of his shoulder, feeling the words in his chest as he speaks. "this is just supposed to be fun, blondie."

"right," she hums. "just fun."

"just fun," he repeats it again, voice barely above a whisper. she leans back so she can look at him, and he's got a small smile sitting on his lips. he kisses her face, right next to the corner of her mouth. "this okay?"

"yeah," she hums, and he does it again. "s'good."

harry trails his lips down to under her chin, kissing along her jaw until he meets the skin just below her ear. then she feels it. the way his teeth gently scrape against the sensitive area.

"alright," her hand pushes his face away, but his arm still keeps her against him. "you're just teasing me, now."

"oh, yeah? bet you've been thinking about this since the last time. haven't you?" the words send heat right to her cheeks, and this time she doesn't care to hide it.

"whatever helps you sleep at night," she pinches his bottom lip between her fingers, soothing the skin with the pad of her thumb when she lets go.

his teeth nip at her thumb before she pulls it away with a giggle, "wait, don't i help you sleep at night?"

"oh whatever," she's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. it reminds her of when she watched him playing with jane, and the way the little girl was smiling so big. she wishes they could've had this kind of relationship from the beginning.

"y'gonna kiss me already?" he squeezes her hip. "or am i gonna have to do all the work?"

"mmm," she hums. "i am kind of tired."

harry pushes her chin up with his finger before pressing his lips to hers. they're warm, and firm and harry always kisses her like he's trying to prove something.

she feels his tongue on her bottom lip, and she squeezes her mouth together for no other reason than to annoy him. "c'mon, lynn. don't be like that."

"y'taste gross," her nose scrunches, and it's true, he did.

harry opens his eyes, keeping his forehead pressed against hers. "i just had a beer."

"exactly," lynn hated the taste. (but if harry were to keep kissing her like how he is now, she would definitely look past it.)

"sorry my mouth can't be as sweet as yours," he drags his thumb across her lips. "all those rum punches, hm?"

lynn let's harry have his way with her mouth. he's sucking and biting and running his tongue against hers, and she is just taking it. soaking it all up. it's been forever since she's been kissed like this and she feels a little selfish when all she offers him is a few lazy sucks on his lips.

his fingertips press into the back of her thighs, and she pulls away, shocked at the feeling. harry was a touchy person, but he seemed like he knew his limits.

"you're getting a little too handsy," she warns. "don't piss me off and ruin our fun just yet."

he simply lifts his hands, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"m'not trying to feel you up, just wanna make it a little easier f'you,” he kisses her chin. “and for me. that angle fucking sucked.”

she rolls her eyes, arms coming to drape around his neck. lynn's looking down at him now, and she lets her lips lightly brush across his face just to tease him. harry's lips are red and swollen, and she runs her thumb across them, smearing the saliva into his soft skin.

"they're looking," she whispers, looking over at the group of girls they were laying out by before.

"your family? that's kind of the whole point."

"no," she hums. "your new friends."

"yeah," harry rolls his eyes. "and they're watching me put my tongue in your mouth. jealousy is not a very good look on you, blondie."

lynn closes the space between them, actually kissing him with effort. she works his mouth just like he was doing to her minutes ago. she sucks and bites and presses their lips so hard together she thinks that they're going to be bruised in the morning.

she feels a little confident when she lets her hands slide into his hair, tugging just enough to pull his mouth away from hers. there's a groan in his throat when she does, and he tries best to hide it, but lynn's already heard it and now her fun was ruined.

"sorry, what's not a good look on me?"

"marry me," harry breathes out.

lynn laughs lightly, resting over his shoulder and wrapping her arms and legs around him tighter. she sighs, and harry runs his fingers along her back while his lips press into her hair.

"ready for our nap?"

"showers and then a nap," she corrects, silently thanking whatever god would listen that harry could let whatever just happened between them go just as quickly as she could. "im not letting you get the bed all sandy."

"whatever you want, honey," he hums, starting to walk out of the water with lynn still in his arms.

"don't call me that," she leans back to look at him, drawing her brows together like she was annoyed. really, she was fighting whatever urge came bubbling up in her throat that had her wanting to ask him to say it again.

"why not? you're sweet like honey."

"i miss when you hated me," lynn sighs, letting herself fall limp against him again.

"never hated you, lynn." she tries to ignore the way his words make her feel warm all over.

"c'mon," she lets her legs down, standing on the dry sand. "let's just grab our stuff and go. they'll think we're going to have crazy sex and it'll buy us a few hours of peace and quiet."

✮✮✮

lynn wakes up to harry moving her hair away from her face. he's propped up on his elbow, fingers brushing over her skin just as lightly as the way her name leaves his lips.

"hey," harry murmurs. "sleep good?"

"so good," she hums, turning on her side to face him. "please tell me you're not eating crackers in our bed."

"m'eating them on my side," he says. "want one?"

"no." she tries to suppress a yawn, arms coming up over her head to stretch. "c'mon. we've got dinner. make sure there's not a single crumb in these sheets."

the two share the bathroom as they get ready together. lynn braids her knotty hair away from her face while she watches with jealousy as harry does nothing but push a pair of sunglasses into his. when it's time to change, he graciously gives her the bathroom, and waits for her to invite him back in.

he comes in wearing a pair of khaki pants with a blue shirt tucked into them, and lynn feels incredibly underdressed. he always looked so proper and pulled together when they had something to do, meanwhile she always looked like she grabbed the first thing she could reach in her closet and didn’t have enough time to check herself in the mirror before leaving.

she had chosen a yellow sundress tonight. she thought it was cute and flowy when she had bought it a year ago, but now she can't help but think that the way some of the fabric stretches around her body has her resembling what she would assume a freshly plucked big bird would look like after working a grueling twelve hour shift in a sesame street high rise.

lynn's stepping back, fingers smoothing down the fabric when she catches harry's eyes in the mirror. he's got a mouth full of toothpaste and his face is pulled together. "y'look beautiful, lynn," he mumbles around his tooth brush. "always do."

she's not really convinced, but her cheeks warm nonetheless, and she pulls her eyes away from harry's before offering him a smile and the sincerest of thank yous.

lynn moves to the living room to wait for harry to finish up and spends the entire ten minutes debating if she should change. she loves the dress, and really, if she were wearing it anywhere but here, there would be no second thoughts about it. lynn just knew that whatever kathleen had to say about it would be forever etched in her brain and the dress would probably find its way into a goodwill pile when she got back.

harry joins her changed out of his perfect outfit. he's wearing a pair of shorter black shorts and the yellow button up he was wearing the other day instead.

lynn isn't really sure what to say or if she should say anything at all, but he only smiles at her before slipping his shoes on and asking if she's ready to go.

"why'd you'd change?" she caves when they're inside the restaurant.

he shrugs. "thought we could match. i don't know. i felt over dressed in what i had on."

she hums in response, and harry wraps his arm around her waist as they get closer to her family's table. she feels his fingers pinch the fabric at her waist, and then, "plus you look like sunshine in this dress. it would've been a crime to ask you to match my blue."

"oh, knock it off," she bumps her hip into his. "you're so corny today."

lynn expects him to knock her back with double the force, just like he did the first day she met him. instead, he only tugs her closer to him, muttering something about just how serious he is against the shell of her ear before pulling her chair out for her at the table.

"new dress?" kathleen speaks, and the way she's look at lynn makes her stomach twist.

harry only hums, fingers squeezing her shoulders as he stands behind her. "looks absolutely gorgeous, doesn't she, ms. kathy?"

aunt cece coos at the pair, pinching lynn's knee under the white tablecloth, and harry's got his lips pressed against her temple, ignoring jane's pleas begging him to sit next to her from the other end of the table. instead, he asks amelia to switch with him so he can sit with lynn, and the girl is more than happy to, considering that all lynn seems to do is piss her off with nothing but her presence.

aunt cece starts up a conversation with the two, but lynn only keeps herself involved with perfectly timed hums of acknowledgement while harry does all of the talking. she felt bad, but all she could think about was the fact that the boy that reminds her of sunshine happens to think the same about her in her new favorite dress.

26 JULY 2018

lynn’s sitting next to harry in a lounger while her sisters play mermaids in the pool. usually, amelia would do absolutely anything to get out of the game, but it was jane’s birthday and it happened to be her only ask. lynn would have definitely offered to relieve her sister of her duties, but jane currently had amelia sitting on the ledge of the pool while she threw a ball at her, calling it mermaid hunting.

so instead, lynn happily sits with a book in one hand while her other hand lightly traces every line and crease on the back of harry’s, only picking up her finger when it’s time to turn the page. she started doing it just to annoy him, but harry didn’t seem to care. he only reclined his lounger a little and moved his hand to rest on lynn’s so she didn’t have to reach across them.

lynn woke up this morning with harry’s face pressed against the crook of her neck and his palm resting against her abdomen. she’ll blame the next part on the fact that she was still half asleep, but she laid there with her eyes closed, soaking up every second of their closeness before harry woke up and gently pulled himself from her. she thought about mentioning the whole thing over their morning coffee, but she didn’t want him to think she was crazy for letting it happen and more importantly, she didn’t want to ruin the chances of that ever happening again.

she was touch deprived. sue her.

“do you want kids someday?” harry asks. he’s got his free arm over his forehead, blocking the sun from his eyes as he looks at lynn.

“probably not,” lynn answers honestly. “i’ve got these two.”

“but you don’t want any of your own?”

lynn pauses for a second before answering, letting her book fall against her chest. it wasn’t that she didn’t want kids of her own because there is definitely a small piece of her that sometimes daydreams of white picket fences and tiny hand prints on glass doors, but that small sliver is overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of not being good enough. she doesn’t really know how to say i’m scared i’ll never learn to love my children the same way my mother never loved me without ruining their sunny pool day.

so, instead she settles for a, “it’s not really important to me. what about you?”

harry shrugs. “dunno. i’ve never really thought about it until now. i think i’m still too young.”

lynn can’t help but laugh at him for saying he feels too young. nearing thirty had her feeling everything but that, and it was crazy how harry felt the opposite.

he tilts his head to the side as she laughs, and lynn’s about to ask why he’s got that look on his face, but the ball jane has been throwing interrupts them, hitting harry right in the mouth.

“oh fuck,” harry curses under his breath.

"jane!" lynn sits up straight, practically screaming at the little girl. "you have got to be careful."

"it's okay, lynn,” harry’s words are muffled by his hand. “really, i’m fine.”

"what do you say to him?" her jaw is clenched and her fists are balled so tightly in her lap. if she were to open them, there’d be little moon indentations on the bottoms of her palms.

"i'm sorry, harry,” jane looks away when her voice wobbles. “i didn't mean to."

"i know, sunflower. it was an accident, wasn't it?" harry speaks so softly as he gently rolls the ball back to the little girl. lynn can’t understand how he wasn’t absolutely seething.

jane nods as her tears spill over and harry’s quick to tell her not to worry about it. accidents happen.

"let me see," her attention moves to harry, catching the crimson trail that started to flow down his chin. "oh, harry. let me clean that for you.”

she doesn’t give him time to respond before pulling him up by his elbow. lynn makes amelia swear to not let jane out of her sight before she leads harry all the way back to their condo. he sits on the arm of the chair in the living room and waits while lynn retrieves a rag and an ice cube from the freezer.

"i'm so sorry, harry," lynn's voice is soft, just like her touch is when her fingers brush under his chin, tilting it up to get a better look at his lip.

“you didn’t have to yell at her like that, you know?” and she knew harry was right. the contrast between her tone with jane and her tone now was like night and day. she knew it was an accident, but she was nervous that harry would be upset with her for not scolding her sisters when they did something wrong.

harry winces when she adds a bit of pressure to the cut, and when lynn feels him move away from her, she has to blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over.

the last time she was here, lynn had brought her ex boyfriend. their relationship has already been hanging on by a thread, and she thought that a romantic beach getaway was exactly what they needed to save it.

and it worked for the first half of the trip. he was so affectionate towards her. so gentle. lynn felt so loved, and so incredibly safe.

then amelia spilled a cup of water on his lap, and he screamed at her in a way that had his chest heaving and face turning red. he was so upset with her and with lynn. the whole trip was ruined and lynn went to sleep nearly every night with a raspy voice and a raw throat from hours of consoling amelia and crying so hard she couldn't breathe.

"hey," he pulls on her waist, bringing her to sit on his knees. "i didn’t mean it like that. what's got you so worked up over this, hm?"

"i'm not worked up."

"lynn," harry's hand covers her own, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as she keeps the ice pressed against his lip. "you're all teary eyed and you're breathing funny."

"you're bleeding, harry. i don't know how you're not raging."

"it was an accident," his hands move to wrap around her middle. "and she's six. i wouldn't really care if she did it on purpose either."

"yeah? you promise?"

"i promise, lynn." he's looking at her with such sincerity on his face, it makes her shoulders fall with relief.

“i guess i was just scared that you’d yell at her,” she admits. “i knew she’d take it better from me.”

“i didn’t know you thought so low of me.” she can’t tell if he’s being serious or only joking with her, but she can’t stop the corners of her mouth from turning upwards. that would have been low of him, and she’s glad he agrees.

“forgive me,” she decides to turn it into the latter, a teasing smile on her face. “how can i ever make it up to you?”

"hm,” he bends his finger, signaling for her to lean closer. "maybe a kiss."

lynn quickly decides she doesn't want to point out the fact that her family was nowhere near them. they were alone, and knowing that made her want to kiss him even more. maybe a little part of her wished it was real.

so, she gives in, pressing her lips gently to the corner of his mouth. "feel better?"

"i think the doctor prescribed two.”

"you're pushing it, styles.”

"i know," the pad of his thumb ghosts over her lips. "just missing your mouth."

the words make her stomach turn in way that has her leaning down to kiss him again in hopes of hearing them again. lynn can’t help but wish harry’s lip wasn’t bleeding because she’d definitely let him explore every inch of her mouth with his own.

what had gotten into her?

"consider me healed,” he hums.

"you are," she swipes the ruined rag across his lip one more time for good measure. "no more bleeding."

✮✮✮

"this is so unfair to her," harry feels lynn's words against his shoulder. when he turns to look at her, she's got her eyes focused on jane who's messily eating the chocolate cake he had spent hours decorating to resemble a sunflower.

when he placed the cake in front of her, a huge grin spread across her face, and harry was certain her eyes were glowing brighter than the six candles placed in the center. she pressed her palms to her cheeks, and an excited squeal left her mouth, followed by a hundred 'i love it and i love you's.

"what is?"

"this," her hand moves between them. "us. she loves you, harry."

"everyone loves me," he jokes, but the way lynn's looking at him lets him know that she's not in a joking mood after all.

it’s no secret that harry has an incredibly hard time reading lynn. he failed calculus twice in college, but the course was a thousand times easier than figuring out just how she was feeling inside. she was normally cool and put together, only letting harry see through the cracks of the walls she had built up when everything became a little too much for her to handle.

being here must be hard for her because she lets him see more and more of her everyday. the lynn he met two months ago wouldn't have sat on his lap and cried because his lip was bleeding. no, she would've told him to grow the fuck up and take care of it himself.

now she's sharing an oversized chair with him, knees draped over his. her eyes are misty, and the corners of her mouth are turned upwards into a watery smile as she watches her family from across the patio. he felt so fucking terrible for her.

"i'm not going to be able to walk away from them the way you think i am," his voice is quiet, and he's rubbing soothing circles on her knee. "you shouldn't be worrying about things so far in the future anyway."

"we never talked about any of this stuff, harry," the intensity of her voice matches his, but it’s laced with urgency. almost like the thought of so many unanswered questions has her on the verge of panicking. "when are we going to break up? why are we even going to? how? what's going to happen when jane-"

"blondie, take a breath," he reaches to smooth her hair away from her face, thumbs stretching to wipe away the overflowing tears under her eyes. "we can decide all of that later. why don't we just have fun now?"

"because this is just going to hurt the two people i care about most."

"we'll stay friends," harry decides. "i'll say i realized i'm only attracted to men, and you can get all of the brownie points that come with loving me and supporting me through all of that."

"you're not just going to walk away when all of this is over?"

"of course not," and he wouldn’t dream of it, but he can’t help but think about the fact that if she were to have asked him a month ago, his answer would've been completely different. he's not sure exactly what changed, but harry would be more than a little sad if he never saw lynn again.

"good," she rests her forehead against his shoulder. "i don't think i could handle you going. i care about you too much."

"is that the four dirty martinis from dinner talking?"

"probably, but it’s true," she looks up at him, a smug smile growing on her face. "they’re also telling me that it would be a fantastic idea to have a little kiss right here in front of everyone.”

"oh, we most definitely can’t say no to that, can we?"

nearly every time they've kissed, they've simply just gone for it. maybe they'd warm up with a peck here and touch there, but within a matter of seconds, harry was sucking on lynn's lips like his life depended on it. to be honest, he really couldn't help it. her mouth was always so sweet.

this kiss was different though. lynn had leaned in to him, her fingers pressing into the back of neck to get him close enough to feel her exhales fanning across his mouth.

she stopped there though, not daring to move a centimeter closer for a moment. her eyes fell to his lips before slowly trailing back up to meet his eyes, and then she giggled in a way that sounded so light and happy, harry felt it deep in his stomach.

her lips brushed against his delicately, and he wasn't really sure if they were even there.

"blondie-"

"you've got a bad lip, harry," and then there was another soft kiss. "gotta be gentle."

harry had every intention of listening to her because she was right. the last thing he wanted was for his stupid busted lip to start bleeding and ruin all of their fun. he thought that maybe they'd share a few short kisses and then join the rest of her family before going to bed for the night.

and that is exactly how it starts. there's a lazy kiss, and then two, and then lynn's pulling away to meet harry's eyes before wrapping both her arms around his neck. he's leaning against her with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pushing deep into the arm of the chair to support all of their weight.

their kisses are long and eager, and he can feel the warmth from the pit in his stomach travel all the way up through his chest and out to his finger tips with each one. his palms are way too sweaty and it feels like his heart’s beating fast enough to push him through the last four hundred meters of a marathon. god, it's been forever since someone's made him feel this way.

the whole scene is definitely far too inappropriate to be occurring in front of lynn's entire family, but he can't seem to stop and neither can she. she's even greedy with it. every time harry pulls away to catch some air, she immediately follows, bringing his lips back to hers. her kisses are messy and frantic, but harry doesn't think he's ever had someone be so soft and easy with him in his entire life.

lynn breaks the kiss, but she keeps her forehead pressed against harry's, holding him against her like she’s scared he’ll run away. she keeps her eyes closed for a second, and harry shamelessly uses it to let his eyes sweep across her face. her lips are red and messy and kissed, and her cheeks are flushed and pink, matching the warmth radiating from her body.

with a heavy breath, she looks up at him with her big, blue eyes, and the sight would definitely have harry collapsing at his knees if he were standing up right. he can feel the way her chest heaves against his own. the way her fingers slide from his neck to his shoulders. the little puffs of air that come from her when she giggles again. he was so fucked.

“fun, wasn’t it?”

"lynn," it's breathy. he really isn't sure how to word it, so he pauses for a moment, scanning her face for any indication that what’s sitting on the tip of his tongue will ruin the relationship they worked so hard on building. "i-"

"there's the birthday girl," both of their heads shoot up to see silas standing near the staircase to the patio with a duffle bag at his feet and a stack of neatly wrapped presents in his hand.

lynn jumps up to greet him, and silas rushes to her in a manner that seems a little more than friendly. he wraps his free arm around lynn's waist just like harry had been doing seconds prior, and lifts her off her feet to spin her in a circle.

"and my favorite girl," his voice is low and meant for only lynn to hear, but the words fall on harry’s ears, too.

harry watches as lynn grins and wraps herself around silas's arm before dragging him to the rest of her family. jane squeals, her sunflower cake long forgotten just like harry was in the garden chair. the entire family crowds around silas, hugging him and kissing his cheeks, and harry knew that no matter how many times lynn curled up in his lap with tears welling up in her eyes, he would never be able to compare to silas.

✰✰✰✰✰

a/n: okaaay all reformatted :D part five will be posted sunday! (maybe monday)

#harry styles #harry #harry styles fic #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #dadrry #if you squint #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry's house #fine line #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #artist!harry #fake dating #fake relationship

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tiramisusbakery · 7 months ago

Text

The Auction pt. 2

Summary: Can be found in The Auction pt. 1, here

#BLACKOC #jjk #Gojosatoru #Gojo #GetoSuguru #Geto #NSFW #MHAOC

Warnings: NSFW, Teens in adult situations (what else is new in jjk tbh), violence, cursing, underage alcohol consumption

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit. Shit. Shit”

Geto fumbled with the lighter in his cupped palm, trying and failing to light the cigarette that stuck out of his mouth. The breeze kept putting out his flame before it could catch.

"Need some help?"

The back door of the building swung shut as Gojo stepped into the alley, his back hunched against the cold.

"Fuck. Ah, yeah, if you could."

Geto sparked the weak lighter, and Gojo held up two fingers, a small red bulb of light appearing as if from nothing and hovering at the tips. The sparks of the lighter caught the dollop of cursed energy, and the fire jumped to his technique, turning the pulse into a tiny ball of fire.

Geto propped the end of his cigarette up against the little blazing orb and dragged a few times, puffing until a plume of smoke finally wafted from the other end. He exhaled in relief.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. You know, I thought you kicked that habit.”

Geto shrugged, clenching the stick between his teeth as he dutifully rolled up his sleeves.

“I didn’t.”

“Do you have any idea what those do to your body?” Gojo grimaced. “I’m watching it give you cancer right now, Suguru.”

“Can’t be any worse than those fuckin’ curses I have to eat,” He toked, threw his head back, and exhaled the murky smoke, watching it curl into the sky.

He cut his eyes at Gojo.

“Or did you forget?”

Gojo took pause. Geto was getting kind of cagey. He decided to switch the subject, although the next one he had in mind wasn’t exactly soothing.

“So…what did Raven say to you in there?”

“That you two fucked.” Geto’s dark eyes landed on Gojo’s wide, blue ones.

“I- w-well-, um, we-”

“How does this keep happening, Gojo? Why do you always end up exactly where you're not supposed to be?"

"...'Scuse me?"

"The only reason I know where you go in the middle of the night is because I followed you. The only reason you haven’t gotten caught is because I've been the one stuffing your bed. You don't tell me anything anymore. Are we friends or not?"

"Well you sure as hell aren't acting like a friend right now," Gojo pushed away from the wall and stalked closer, his own eyes burning holes into Geto's black ones. "How was I supposed to know you'd end up falling in love with the girl I paid for some pussy? And did I tell you to come looking for me?"

"You don't tell someone that, Satoru, you just do. You know what? Every time I turn around, you’re trying to justify being a fucking asshole, and I’m trying to stop you from being one. I work and WORK to keep you out of trouble, and you laze around being the ‘strongest’ until it's time to blast someone with a gravity orb or some shit, and then the day is saved. I am so fucking tired of trying to reign you in that it hurts.”

"Then don’t. I'm not your little brother, or your kid. If I want to go somewhere, I do, and if I want to fuck someone, I will."

Geto raised a brow, pursing his lips around the cigarette with a ferocity that made his jaw pop beneath his skin. He blew the smoke harshly from between his teeth, and it made him look like he was channeling the dragon he was known to summon during fights.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dickhead?”

“That means I didn’t do shit TO YOU!” Gojo spat, finally coming face to face with Geto, “But i’ll tell you what I did do- to Raven.”

Geto rocked forward, bringing himself up off of the wall, and closed the narrow distance between himself and his white haired assailant. His cigarette fogged Gojo’s glasses, but he kept his hands balled up in his pockets to stop himself from knocking his best friend out.

“Go ahead,” he challenged, “What did you do?”

“I fucked the shit out of her.” Gojo removed his glasses, folded them neatly, and tucked them into his blazer pocket. “For hours. Angie didn’t want me to stop.”

“Angie?” Geto gaped. His cigarette dropped from his mouth and fell to the pavement in an arch of ash.

“Oh-ho, don’t tell me she didn’t tell you her name?” Satoru’s blue eyes flashed like ice, his smile growing like that of a Cheshire cat.

“Well, she didn’t tell me, so don’t worry. Her sensei did, when I fucked them both. Same time. Poor girl asked me to be gentle, but before long I was fucking her into the mattress. So, I guess it's safe to say…” He ran his tongue along his teeth, shaking his head slowly from side to side. He watched Geto’s face darken dangerously.

“I wasn’t.”

Crack!

The impact of Geto’s knuckles against Gojo’s jaw caught him by surprise, and he realized that somewhere along the line he’d accidentally dropped his infinity.

Damn booze!

Geto grabbed the sleeve of his counterpart’s jacket and slammed him into the brick wall, his teeth bared like a rabid animal.

“Gah!” Gojo’s head reverberated like a bell.

Gojo came to his senses as the dark haired boy went in for a second jab to his face. Ducking away from the swing and countering with his own, his fist connected with Geto’s abdomen in a streak of blue. He sent a shock of cursed energy to his knuckles, repelling Geto’s torso and doubling the impact of the punch. Geto yelled in surprise, and staggered backward into a figure that had stood watching them at the door.

Takete caught the boy easily, and held him back from lunging himself again at Gojo.

“Boys, something wrong? We can hear you inside-” Takete made eye contact with Gojo.

“It’s you?” He smirked, “How do we keep finding each other like this, kid?”

Gojo blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, trying to clear his vision.

“Uh, yeah. Hey Mr. shark man”

“Good guess. Takete. You need some help out here?”

Geto wrenched himself away from the man.

“Who the hell are you? More buddies you didn’t tell me about, Gojo?” He spat at the street. “You’re so fucking useless.”

“Well, in the spirit of me being useful,” Gojo wiped his mouth with one hand, the other in his breast pocket. “Let me tell you what I was gonna say all along, you fucking psycho.”

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, and held up the coin he’d found at his chair.

“I wasn’t gonna play, but since you’re so hell bent on calling me a selfish idiot, maybe I will. And I’m gonna show you what it means to get whatever the fuck I want, whether youre here to see it or not.” His eyes twinkled as his smile took on a mischievous curl.

Geto’s face was lined with fury, but Gojo didn’t care about Geto’s feelings anymore. He was having far too much fun.

“So,” He continued, his voice echoing off of the walls of the alley, “you better hope to God that this one’s a dud, but I have to say, I’m feeling lucky."

He kissed the coin and replaced it, his white hair catching the wind and making him look wild.

Geto loosened his tie, and slid off his volcanic beads with a calmness that would have chilled winter itself. "Gojo, you don't want to make me into your enemy. If you apologize, we can talk about this."

Gojo threw his head back and howled in laughter.

"There's nothing to talk about." He beamed.

"You know what the best part about being 'fuck you' rich is, boy scout? Its being able to say FUCK YOU!”

Geto nearly tore his jacket trying to remove it as he geared up for round two, but Takete laid an enormous hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not worth it, champ, he’s drunk.”

Geto stared incredulously into the man’s face before shrugging him off to adjust his jacket and collar.

“Move.”

He shoved the man aside with his shoulder as he ducked back into the venue. Takete chuckled, almost reminiscent at the scene.

“You pair are feisty. I see that as an asset. There’s a lot going on tonight, but if you want to talk initiation, let me know.” He winked at the oversized teen before letting the door swing shut.

~~~~~

Geto sank into his velvet chair gracelessly, his face stormy with disgust. With himself? with Gojo? He had no idea.

The mingling of the crowd below his box had begun to slow; the lights darkened and the chatter died. He knew the show would be starting soon.

Movement and white hair across the darkening theater caught his attention, and he watched as Gojo slid into a box of his own, his posture hunched and his shoulders square. When he sat, their eyes caught across the room. Gojo’s blue gaze was blank and cool- and most of all, unreadable. Geto knew his own looked the same; the daggers in his eyes likely would have been deadly had they been real.

You better hope this one’s a dud, but I’m feeling lucky.

Gojo averted his gaze, and Geto watched him close his palm around the coin and shove it in his pocket.

He’s so damn sure he’s gonna win. God, fuck him.

Checking over his shoulder, Geto withdrew an enormous wallet from his pocket, the bills inside spreading the patent leather so far that it could hardly fold. The colorful bills inside, stacked with the money he’d been saving on his own, would have to be enough. He exhaled, pinching his nose to ward off the headache that had begun to take hold.

“Hate to say this, but thank you Shark Man,” he muttered under his breath as he pocketed the wallet once more.

“You did end up helping. More than you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geto struggled the whole night to think of anything but Raven, or rather…Angie. He felt defeat in every cell of his body as he watched the performances come and go in an endless daze.

He only snapped in and out of focus long enough to bring his hands together at the end of every set, and join in on the enthusiastic applause that would intermittently wash over the room at the truly great displays. Here and there, he’d cut his eyes across the room to the balcony at which a shock of white hair reminded him of the events that transpired just a few hours before.

And every time, he swore that the boy had been looking his way too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gojo clutched the coin in a white knuckled grip, his jovial spirit from the alleyway since replaced with a broiling rage.

He peered across the theater as the dark haired boy postured in his chair, nodding thoughtfully, waving away champagne, and surveilling the stage intently as if forming a philosophy about the way the floorboards looked in the spotlight.

Gojo had sobered- especially after the first few courses of lobster and Wagyu steak had hit his stomach, spaced out by the delicious Yubari King melon palette cleansers- and he’d finally come to his senses about what’d transpired just hours earlier.

Tipping his lenses, he opened his hand, palm up, to check the coin.

Melting, but not yet ready to view.

Damn, how long was this going to take?

~~~~~~~~~

Geto checked his coin. The grooves around the edge had turned transparent, the inky center slowly following suit. Somewhere inside him, something whispered to him that he’d been tricked- that this was no Bidder’s Coin, in fact, it was a loser’s coin, just for him. He stuffed that part of him deep, suffocated it with all of the faith he could muster for Angie. She hadn’t brought him all this way just to lead him on. Right?

Right.

He placed the coin back into the palm of his hand and squeezed, hoping that if the coin were anything like him, the pressure would make it break down faster. As he did so, his eyes dipped into the crowd pooled beneath his box as they watched the next display.

Somewhere in the crowd were two more coins. He thought, bitterly. And whoever they are, I will beat them, like nothing more than a curse beneath my feet.

Finally, Geto watched as a man with a slicked ponytail, accented with shaved sides, came onto the stage. His tuxedo was sharp, although it looked as if he'd bought it at the beginning of the Shōwa era.

The man waited for the crowd to notice his presence, standing silently with his hands behind his back until they naturally lowered their voices and gave him center stage.

"Now, I know that this has been an exciting night for people in our industry." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I truly hope that these amazing performances have enriched you all."

He cast his eyes down into the darkened theater, as if searching for the no doubt anticipatory faces of his companions.

"I would like to take this time to thank our donors by name…"

Come on, get on with it.

Gojo removed his glasses and massaged his eyes, trying to dislodge the frustration that had begun to take hold. The coin was in his hand, finally melted by his body heat, but the host had purposely lowered the lights to near blackness so that no one could see what their results were.

A hand slid across his back, over his shoulder, and down to the left breast of his blazer; he felt lips on his right ear.

"Tira…" he murmured, his eyes popping open, but not daring to look.

The lips pressed to the shell of his ear.

"It's me." He could hear the smile in her voice. The air off of her lips made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"The moment has come, little prince. Have you chosen destiny or will you follow fate?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You will," her stiletto nails slowly, deliberately, raked his hair from the nape of his neck to the crown of his head before tangling and guiding him into a kiss.

He fell into her, wondering somewhere far away in his mind if anyone could see them in the dark. Yet, with her this close to him in public, the taboo escaped him; it barely registered to him that anything existed outside of her scent, and her lips.

It was sloppy and quick, but it was all he needed. He sighed into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm spending all my money on Angie tonight, aren't I?"

She giggled, and he felt a tent begin to grow in his tailored pants.

"She worked hard on this, so please try to enjoy the show while you do. I'm retiring for the night. Sayōnara."

And as if she'd been a dream, she withdrew from his senses before her departure could even register on his dulled brain.

“At last, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” The announcer threw up his hands as if conducting a vast orchestra, “We see who will be bidding to take home tonight’s gorgeous Black Swan. Lift the lights, and let us see the results of the Black Coin Ball!!!”

The lights lifted in the opera house and everyone’s arms shot into the air as they held their coin to the light.

Gojo paled. He’d already known, but somehow seeing the clover made it more real. He snapped his head to the open crowd, immediately searching for his friend’s expression across the room as his heart hammered against his ribcage.

No, no, no.

He waited for his friend to address him, his mind racing to navigate the catastrophe that was surely about to take place.

Gojo watched as Geto opened his hand, extended his arm, and looked into his coin. After a beat the boy’s narrow, onyx eyes slid to his own, and he knew.

The Bidder’s coins had found them.

~~~~~~~

Above the boys, in the grandest box seats the theatre had to offer, a large, leathery fist clutched the third bidder’s coin; it was so small in the man’s calloused hand that it resembled a lima bean in the fist of a giant.

Takete, revered kingpin of Japan's most formidable mob to date, the Dragons, smiled down into the small, plump face of his wife Michi as she gazed out into the audience. The room fell into pandemonium as everyone checked their neighbor for the coveted coins.

“Have we won, my dear?” She purred, her shiny red lips parting on the smoke of her tapered cigarette stick.

“We have. It’s a shame I can’t seem to find my wallet.”

“It’ll turn up.” She replied, placing a red taloned hand on his broad lap. “The boys are using their quirks to find it now. Here’s hoping that whoever took it had a damn good reason.”

Below them, the long-lapelled man addressed the crowd once more.

“Excellent. And now, may our bidders ring their bells!” The announcer eyed the room expectantly.

Ding.

Takete’s gaze found the white haired boy. Gojo, was it?

Ding.

He slid his attention to the dark haired boy that he’d found fighting Gojo in the alley. His surprise was so palpable that his wife felt it through touch. She faced him head on, her face a question.

“Do you know them?”

He tossed her a mischievous smile as he raised his own hand and rang the third bell.

Ding!

The boys’ head’s shot up in unison to see him grin, his sharp teeth even visible from that far below. He addressed them in turn, realizing that he’d been roped into a much bigger scheme than he’d first expected when he’d waltzed into the theater.

“What have you got planned, Tira?” Takete had asked of his favorite concubine only weeks prior.

“Nothing much, just love and war.”

She’d smirked at him from across the table, the party of Dragons that accompanied him paying them little attention as they were entertained by the other attractions of the club.

“All I need you to do is hold a coin and keep a promise.”

“What promise?”

“The one you made to Raven- that you would let her take her trips around the sun undeterred.”

It became immediately clear where his wallet had gone; if he’d learned anything about Gojo, it was that he could back himself up. But what about his friend?

He winked at the dark haired boy, and the kid balked, averting his gaze.

“May you win the night, young man” he toasted the boy.

Because you’ll soon learn that my loans are repaid in blood.

“Please remember, fellow patrons, that even if you have not won the chance to bid for the girl, that any number of women that you’ve seen tonight are up for the taking. We also encourage gambling, as we watch our bidders take on the challenge of securing our most exquisite prize.”

~~~~

So they get to bet on us? Gojo wondered. Interesting. I'll have to get in on that….if anyone will take my bet, that is.

His eyes flickered to Geto's slumped figure, eyeing Takate in his box. Gojo looked up into the box himself, the man toasting his friend.

Ugh. Not while he's in the ring.

Unless…

"Fate finds those who choose no destiny. Fine, Tira. I'll bite."

~~~~

A gleam came to the announcer's eye for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued.

“However, there will be no cheering, sneering, choking, fighting, or killing, as the performance is taking place, please.”

Chatter enveloped the room, and white betting cards began to fly to and fro, waiters rushing to collect them from the rabid crowd. Every now and then, to the boys’ distress, the sea of onlookers glanced up at the balconies where the bidders sat, the undecided checking them out to see who looked like a winner.

“And now,”

The spotlight snapped into place at center stage.

“Let the games begin!”

The theater dropped to black, and bright white letters were projected onto the closed

curtain:

INTERMISSION

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #black oc #mha oc #jjk

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tinyidle · 6 months ago

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Can you do scenario for Yeosang and Miyeon? Home Gym! Miyeon been distrusting Yeosang by touching him anywhere and he can't risk it so he immediately bring her into their bedroom and dominated her!

making this into a drabble (that might turn into a full blown fic as i write this because who knows really) let's goooo nsfw, based-ish on irl (not too much tho now since they're no longer mcs :( ), groping, overstimulation, pussy slapping, slight degradation, fellatio, insatiable!miyeon, teasing!miyeon, switch!sub!miyeon, brattamer-ish!yeosang, switch!dom!yeosang, all fiction ofc; 1.27k wc

having exchanged numbers from their once-in-a-blue-moon merging of schedules, miyeon was surprised with how easy it was to find interest and similarity with yeosang, and so was yeosang with miyeon. both were current mcs for music shows, both were visuals in their group, were very much dotted on constantly, and had an awfully quiet side to them. the only two extremely stark differences were age, heights and genders, but even looking past that they could very easily get along.

both of them were also workout gurus, so they've been going to the gym as partners for the past three months. miyeon recently got a new apartment and, knowing how much yeosang likes to exercise, offered him to work out with her at her house whenever they couldn't necessarily go to their companies' gym. he would always accept because it was a place to workout with a partner who was 100% willing, and miyeon was 1000% willing to work out.

it was a pretty chill day for both them, so yeosang got to miyeon's house. when miyeon opened the door, yeosang was met with a tempting sight: a tight athletic crop top with loose athletic shorts, showing off her toned abs and legs. he always giggled at the thought, considering miyeon's only worked out for a couple of weeks.

refocusing on why he came, yeosang greeted the older. "good morning, noona," he said.

miyeon made a small grimace before smiling brightly. "good morning to you, too. but you don't have to call me noona, yeosang. just call me, myeon, okay? come in," she invited him.

as the two walked to the small gym area, the man looked around before putting his workout jacket on the nearby coat hanger. "so, myeon, what do you think h we should work on together before doing our own thing?" he asked.

"how about arm workouts?" she suggested. miyeon had an ulterior motive, which yeosang obviously didn't know about, but hopefully through this workout he would cave in to his desires like she's been wanting him to for the past month.

"okay," he unknowingly agreed. "we'll start with bicep curls. my goal is for my guns to pop," he joked before flexing his arms, showing his already hard muscles. miyeon but her lip from the sight before nodding in agreement.

they started working out, miyeon following the directions of the alluring man beside her. after ten minutes, yeosang felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.

miyeon's eyes shone mischievously, while her lips pursed outward form a slight pout. "im trying to lift my dumbbell to get my bicep to protrude, but i don't see any results like you."

yeosang snorted before moving behind miyeon, holding the dumbbell near her hand, inadvertently causing his own arm to slightly flex. as the man was trying to teach miyeon how to properly use the weight, he caught miyeon staring at his arm. "myeon! eyes down here," he instructed. "you can't see what im doing to your arm if you keep looking at mine."

miyeon looked up innocently, though her fingers started tapping where yeosang's fingers connected with the weighted metal. "why not? i can see everything you're doing to help me get it right."

yeosang let out a sigh of annoyance before shaking his head. "let's focus on our own exercises instead. we have plenty of time left today for me to show you how to properly bicep curl," he said before resting the dumbbell on the bench behind him.

this, however, did not stop miyeon from teasing the man. she would do squats in front of him doing chest curls, planks near his line of vision as he did donkey kicks, mountain climbs with her ass beside his head when he simply wanted to do weighted pushups.

he simply had enough.

dropping the weighted jump rope, yeosang turned miyeon around from her neck stretching session to confront her. "noona-- miyeon! what are you doing? are you trying to get me upset?"

his brows furrowed as his dark brown eyes bore into hers, but all he could see was... want in her eyes?

in normal circumstances, miyeon would profusely apologize, but she had a plan that was sure to work. looking deep into the man before confessing, "sangi, i want you to make the first move. "

his eyes widened. she wanted-- what? "you want me to-"

"fuck me," she answered seductively nonchalant as her hand rested on his thumping chest.

yeosang immediately pulled away from miyeon, eyes wide. "what?!"

"yeosang, this has been bothering me since we first met," she started. "and every time you look at me, i feel it again. the feeling of passion inside of you that i know you have. ive always liked you, loved you even, but now i want to know how it feels to be fucked by you."

the confused man had to process everything happening all at once. a once-in-a-lifetime woman. asking him. a one-in-a-million man. to please her. all the guys in the world, and she chooses him. he has to take the plunge. "okay ill do it. one thing, though."

miyeon nods.

"i get to dominate you for teasing me throughout our work out. deal?"

the woman's face lit up and yeosang noticed, making him smile as well. "of course, sir."

it had to be miyeon's third orgasm and she hasn't even seen yeosang's cock yet. he made her cum from his fingers and his tongue. now he's trying to make her cum by spanking her abused cunt.

"go on," yeosang coaxes before landing another sound-cracking smack to miyeon's cunt, bent over his lap. "apologize for earlier. "

she couldn't take it anymore. miyeon's hands gripped the man from under her's pants. "im sorry for being a slutty tease."

"good girl," he praised her. "now, look at me. i want to see your pretty face as i fuck your mouth."

the girl slowly opened her eyes and did as told. he smiled before taking out his hardening dick from his bottoms and standing up straight as she got off his lap and on her knees.

miyeon gasped at the sight. he was huge, red at the meaty tip, and slightly curved. just like she likes them. she licked her lips before closing her eyes and opening her mouth.

but before she could have him, she felt the tip swat against her cheek. "look in my eyes and have some respect, miyeon," yeosang teased. miyeon was considering the man being mean, but she realized she was getting what she deserved.

looking into the man's sadistic eyes, miyeon asked, "can i suck your cock, sir?"

without any words, the satisfied yeosang gently held the back of the older's head and guided it to his awaiting length.

miyeon took his girth into her wet and warm mouth without any hesitation, swallowing every inch and sucking for all she's worth. a few moments later, she felt the tip begin to hit her throat, causing her to gag.

he was careful not to go too far, giving the older woman the time she needed to adjust herself. when she finally go used to the thickness, he pushed deeper and began pounding her throat. he had a light hold around the back of her hair while miyeon whined and teared at the pace and width of his length.

yeosang pulling himself from her mouth placed her on her back after several minutes. "id love to finish in your slutty mouth," he panted, pushing miyeon's legs to her chest. they both groaned loudly as the younger sunk deep in her cunt. "but i think id rather finish in this slutty pussy."

#ateez smut #gidle smut #yeosang smut #miyeon smut

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no-quit-lucy · 5 months ago

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Lucy and Tim are hanging out as friends and end up in a heated make out but Lucy stops him because she doesn't want to lose his friendship

read on ao3

The Toronto Raptors were playing The Los Angeles Lakers and Tim had invited Lucy over to watch the game with him and Kojo after giving his season tickets to Nell. She often asked for his tickets since they were friends like how Lucy and Tim were now friends. It was a new development since she wasn't his rookie anymore.

It was a step Tim felt slightly uncomfortable making, but willing to nonetheless because Lucy was too precious to keep at arm's length. He enjoyed her company too much to shut her out completely, unresigned to only interact with her rarely on the clock.

When she mentioned her interest in the basketball game, Tim didn't hesitate to offer up his giant TV, case of beers, and dog for company to watch together as an offering of friendship.

And to his surprise, she didn't hesitate to accept his offer.

Arriving well before the start of the game, Lucy brought along her own case of beers, touting a local brewery that donated a portion of its profits to various community support groups in LA. The label had a picture of a dog that looked eerily similar to Kojo and Tim teased that was the real reason she bought the beer.

“You’re rooting Raptors? You wound me,” Tim feigned, slapping his hand over his chest when he opened the door.

“If…Kojo destroys this by halftime, pizza’s on me, how's that?” Lucy pushed her way inside, showing off the Raptors chew toy she got for their dog.

Tim pursed his lips, contemplating her offer. “Deal, but no olives, ” he stipulated, knowing he might have to suffer through a veggie pizza or bribe her to get a meat lovers too.

“Deal,” She reached her hand out to shake on it.

“You have to try one,” Lucy pushed a bottle his way, they were past the first quarter of the game already and Lucy was working on her second beer.

There was a couch cushion and a dog between them. Well, the dog was on the couch cushion and he was technically resting on them both; head on Lucy’s lap and tail flopping on Tim’s thigh. But the distance between them kept getting shorter as with each passing basket, they scooted closer in anticipation of the game.

“Let me try yours, I don't want a whole one,” Tim reached for the open one in her other hand, trying to grab it from her.

“Fine,” Lucy rolled her eyes and handed it over, “but my offer still stands if you like it and want a whole one of your own.”

“Or I'll just keep drinking yours,” Tim tipped the bottle toward her before taking a swig. His face twisted in a mix of reactions as he spun the bottle to read the label.

“You like it,” Lucy boasted, taking the bottle back but not putting it out of his reach in case he wanted more.

“So it's not a bad beer, big deal.” Tim shrugged his shoulder, pulling his foot higher over his knee.

Throughout the next quarter, they shared both of their beers, each switching off taking sips of the others and cracking open new ones.

“I’m surprised you aren't having a fit about swapping spit,” Lucy commented after Tim finished off the last of her beer. The dregs were mostly their combined washback. It felt more intimate than a lot of things they'd previously shared.

“I don't have a problem with swapping spit with friends,” Tim shrugged nonchalantly.

“Good to know,” Lucy pulled out her phone and called in the order for the pizza, screw her lactose intolerance, she had pills in her bag that would get her through the day.

By the third quarter, they'd finished more than half the pizza and a case of beers. It was more than either one realized, having shared each other’s bottles for most of the game. The Lakers were winning, so Tim was being obnoxious and boastful, jumping off the couch and crowing her space every time his team controlled the ball.

“Angela and I drunkenly kissed a few years ago, Isabel was there and instigated the whole thing.” Tim wasn't sure how they got on the topic, but something about that chapstick commercial had prompted him to mention how much he enjoyed a nice set of lips.

“If there's one thing the people we work with have— it's lips,” Lucy said in agreement. “Angela, Jackson, Nyla, Sergeant Grey, even Nolan’s aren't bad.”

“Yeah? What about me?” Tim said boldly, leaning further into her space, Kojo no longer between them and resigned to lying on his dog bed in the corner of the room.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” Lucy lied.

“I have,” Tim said, finishing off yet another one of her beers and noting the Lakers were so far ahead in score there was a fat chance the Raptors would be able to catch up.

Lucy gave Tim a curious and deadpanned look.

“What?” Tim responded, “You drink a ton of water and you use the good chapstick. I can’t help it if a thought pops up now and again that your lips might be soft. You said it best– the people we work with have nice lips. You’re the people I work with too.”

“Wanna test that theory?” Lucy asked, shifting her body on the couch to face him.

“Are you offering to kiss me?” Tim clarified.

“I think you were asking to kiss me,” Lucy turned it around on him, making him take responsibility for his half-drunken admissions.

She knew he was comfortable swapping saliva with friends, she knew he had kissed his co-workers before. Just because they were alone and drinking, doesn’t mean things would automatically get out of hand. They could kiss. To see how nice each other’s lips were.

“Lucy,” Tim cleared his throat and deepened his voice, “as a friend, may I kiss you?” He asked.

“Tim,” Lucy responded with equal theatrics, “as a friend, you may kiss me,” she put her beer down on the table and tried to remind herself it was just a kiss. Just a single kiss between two friends.

But that was before he leaned in and she was hit with his scent. That was before he gripped tight on her ponytail and pulled. That was before he deepened the kiss and swiped his tongue against her lip.

Her lip that was plump and pliant, willing and giving. Tim worried her bottom lip between his lips, pulling on it and sucking on it. He paid the same attention to her top lip, assessing the differences and enjoying how while he paid mind to her upper lip, she took her turn sucking and biting on his bottom lip. They pressed together, moving in tandem in an unspoken exploration of each other’s mouths.

His lips pulled off of hers for a split second then he dove right back in for more. Her lips were fucking softer than soft, her mouth slanted at the perfect angle, he barely noticed how his nose pressed into her rosy cheek and his teeth bumped against hers. He kissed her harder, sucking hard on her lip and pulling her closer to press his body against her. Her mouth was wet, and hot, and somehow the mixture of pizza and beer was turning him on more as he moaned into her mouth and knocked foreheads against her.

Lucy was panting when she finally engaged her brain and pushed back on his shoulders. He chased her anyway, only stopping and gathering his own bearings when he realized her leaning back was not an invitation for him to lean forward.

“Okay, okay,” Lucy said, still catching her breath, laughing a bit, and savoring his taste still lingering on her tongue. “I bet you never kissed a friend like that,” she joked, watching Tim wipe his mouth, adjust his pants, and blink away the fog that had clearly clouded his mind.

“Uh, yeah, no. Definitely not,” Tim confirmed, shifting his eyes around the room to land on her, the TV, the dog, back to her, the door, the TV again, before settling on a speck of lint that was suddenly bothering him on his shirt.

“I just–” Lucy started, “We’re friends, Tim. We can’t be anything more than friends. I need you to just be my friend.” She hated how saying the word over and over again made it feel dirty, or how it had somehow lost its meaning. Being friends was important, and confusing him on what that meant was not conducive to a healthy friendship. She needed him to get that even though that was quite possibly the hottest kiss of her life, he was still just a friend.

“No, no, I know. We’re friends. I got a little carried away. You’ve got nice lips.” Tim sipped his beer, and when he pulled the bottle from his mouth, it foamed over and dripped beer all down his chin and chest.

It successfully broke the uncomfortable pause as they both broke out in laughter.

“You’ve got nice lips too,” Lucy said, clinking her beer bottle against his as the Raptors caught up and were one free throw away from winning the game.

#chenford #chenford fanfic #chenford fic #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic

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freerangeranger · 1 year ago

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<As students are filing into the lecture hall, Honoria Sorrel can be see fiddling with a projector. The first slide of the powerpoint reads: 'So You Don't Want to be a Ranger?'

Honey straightens up as the slide finally comes into focus, before glancing put at the sea of children still settling into their seats. She purses her lips slightly and wanders across the stage to a podium that had been moved aside - reconvening with Lamp the Sizzlipede who was watching her from atop the wooden stand.

No one can hear her as she speaks to the little fire-bug, although she does hand Lamp the projector control after a few moment.

As the crowd slowly settles - with much hushing from the other adult supervisors - Honoria takes a deep breath, and begins.>

"Hello Campers, welcome! My name is Honoria, and I am a Ranger stationed in Castalia city. Some of you might know me from the Shadow Sky Incident; I was one of many who assisted with relief efforts. I have been afforded the opportunity today to teach you about the Ranger Union and what it can do for you, even if you do not want to become an offical pokemon ranger."

"The Ranger Union is best known for its Area and Field Rangers... but you know, not everyone is cut out for that sort of job.

It's true! When you get older - don't give me that look, you will get older - Your life isn't always going to turn out the way you planned it. Sometimes we hurt ourselves. Maybe you will have a family! Or find that your passion is in engineering or marketing or security. Maybe you just hate being outside or in the field.

And that's okay! Just because you aren't a Ranger doesn't mean the Union is a dead end for you. There are tons of opportunities that people don't know about and most Ranger schools have programs for these jobs as well."

"Let's talk Operators. You all got your phones - yea? Did Miss Ellisa ask you to put them away? Well - not all of you are listening. I see you in the back. Yea, you! Hot tip: If you want to hide your phone, don't turn it on in a dark room. But you my friend might be a perfect fit for an Operator.

Operators are our IT management team for the Union. Prior to the invention of phones they were people who coordinated local Rangers, organized job boards and sent messages between Bases to facilitate smooth operations.

Now that we have satellite radio and modern communications integrated into our stylers, Operators work as a hub of all incoming reports and updates from Rangers in the field. Being knowedgable of software - both new and old - is crucial because if something goes wrong you are able to help with repairs, suggestions and even call emergency services. Not only that! Operators can reassign missions, give constant updates and are often the people who begin and end missions for Rangers. You get to boss us around over the phone - it's great."

"Mechanics! The sister-field of IT. Where operators know what to do when software is on the fritz, Mechanics are responsible for building, maintaining and repairing all of the computers, stylers and other wacky gadgets that rangers use."

"Look at this. Not quite a clunky old styler, huh? My friends, this is the first artifical pokemom leaf ever conceived. It works too! With some grafting you can attach this prosthetic to any grass pokemon that has lost a major body segment and it will provide them with a method of creating their own food. This is what I mean when I say 'mechanics'. Tools and Tech that go beyond your average smartphone.

... although it does help to know how to remove a SIM card from a phone.

If you love the idea of keeping a well oiled machine running or even inventing your own machines on someone else's dime, the Union offers scholarships for high school students - encouraging your to pursure higher education and create something that you can share with the world."

"Not many people know this, but a lot of the research that the Union supports doesn't actually relate to the field of pokemon conservation. True - creating better medical systems and styler technology is benefical to the Union as well as the medical industry. But there is a lot more to it than that. Which leads us to..."

"Acedemia!

Now, this job isn't strictly 'working for the Union'. Your paycheck doesn't solely come from us. However. I don't know how many of you know this - but research is expensive! Last year the pokemon medical industry put 3.5 million dollars into new technology. Thats insane! I could buy the Union for that amount. But it gets used by people who want to know more about the world.

Now this doesn't really get explained to you so I'm going to lay it out here.

"No one knows anything. The smartest, most well known scientist in the world can't tell you everything - heck they can't tell you anything with certainty. And thats how they like it.

The world is wide and vast and so crazy complicated. There are still arguments about photosynthesis, whether or not Flygon is a Bug or Dragon, and how bones heal. And the Union wants to support people who are trying to answer these questions - to create things like the prosthetic leaf and to inform policies to protect and manage pokemon-human interactions."

"Okay. So you don't wanna sit in a stuffy office looking through a microscope all day. But being a Ranger seems very stressful and you don't really want to deal with the people-side of the job.

May I present 'Survey Corps'. These are the enviromental sciences part of the Union. They are the ones responsible for long term monitoring and management of specific at-risk habitat and populations.

Their job is similar to Area Rangers, only if they see signs of human interruption they call the Area Rangers and get the heck out of dodge. Their job is strictly tagging pokemon, taking soil samples, checking water temperature and quality, monitoring construction sites for pokemon nests and even handing out hunting tickets for overpopulated species.

That doesn't tickle your fancy? What's that? You want to pet the pokemon but not get attacked by an angry Ursaring?"

"Rehabilitation is the name of the game! or job. Unsuprisingly there is a massive branch of pokemon welfare within the Union, both for the ride pokemon born and raised in captivity as well as injured pokemon who are going to be re-released. The Union also funds and runs its own breeding programs to reintroduce species back into their original habitats and potentially bring back ancient species that were wiped out by human intervention.

An example - not related to the Union - is with @sneasedtomeetyou who has spent time breeding hisuian sneasel - an extinct poison type - from the recessive genes recently discovered in modern sneasel. It's their hope to reintroduce these species back into Sinnoh because it was recently discovered that certain species of trees grow only after the seed has passed through the digestive tract of certain poison types."

"What? Some of you want to deal with people more than pokemon? Jeez - picky crowd today.

Luckily I have a solution. The Union employs a lot of security forces both in the field and in their buildings. Because there are high risk pokemon in the protection of the Union - no I'm not going to tell you where or what they are, put your hand down - we need security guards who are skilled combatants to protect them. This is a perfect job for professional or aspiring trainers who need a fallback plan or simply don't want to be in the competitive scene anymore.

"In conclusion. The Union employs a wide variety of people with drastically different skills and needs. If you want to be Ranger - go for it! Be the best that you can be. But if you don't, I hope you will consider the opportunities presented here and maybe I'll hear you sometime over the phone telling me...

'Mission Clear!'"

#irl pokemon #pokeblogging #rl pokemon #foster island summer camp #adventures on foster island #honoria lore #pokemon ranger headcanons #pokemon ranger #long post #ranger talks

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lululawrence · 2 years ago

Text

lululawrence's fics posted in 2022

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

Finally, You and I (Collide) (14k) - Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson

Funny how Louis could sum up everything he’d had with Zayn so easily.

Ex. One syllable, two letters. Fourteen years of friendship and marriage and everything else they had been to each other, put together and explained to anyone who asked with that one tiny word. Ex. Ex-Best Friend. Ex-Lover. Ex-Husband. Ex-everything, really. Zayn had truly become his everything, and Louis still ached in the spaces within that used to be filled by him, even all these years later.

Sometimes love was a bitch.

Or the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

Make It Up As We Go Along (52k) with art by @fallinglikethis - OT5 Relationship

“I don’t think I’m coming back this time.” Louis knew that didn’t answer Zayn's question, but it kind of did at the same time. “I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Why’s this time different?” Zayn asked quietly.

"I’m just. So tired, Zee. So fucking tired.”

By all accounts, roommates and best friends Harry, Zayn, and Niall are living the dream. Alpha Harry is a successful architect with a beautiful and successful journalist omega in Louis. Alpha Niall is a fairly successful actor who is about to embark on a production of Hamlet in Europe and has no trouble keeping his bed warm at night. Beta Zayn might not be so lucky in love as the other three, but he is one of the most sought after artists in New York City. Life is going pretty well for all of them, but underneath the surface none of them are truly happy.

When a baby is left on their doorstep, their lives become the definition of chaos...but maybe that is exactly what they need to see what has been right in front of them all along.

All I Do the Whole Day Through (7k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis reached up and grabbed the ridiculously thick jumper that had the planets all over it and slammed the wardrobe doors shut. It was only as he turned around that he realized why Harry’s bedroom door had been shut.

There was a nest on Harry’s bed.

But why was Harry using Louis’ clothes and items that probably smelled like him in his nest?

You know I love you, babe (3k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick sighed happily to himself. Yet another wonderful decision by Past Nick was stocking the fridge with the cheesecake. He honestly had no recollection of purchasing it, but it was the best thing he’d eaten all day. There was something so perfectly satisfying about a piece of cheesecake.

He should wax poetic to Louis about it. Tell him how he didn’t miss him at all because the cheesecake was all he would ever need.

Or the one where Nick fucks up and scrambles to make it right. Too bad that just makes things worse.

Oh, That's What I Want (38k) - Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles

“Oh my god, does that mean we get to go dancing?” Liam asked, clapping her hands.

“I’m 42 years old, Liam,” Louis said, her voice flat. “I don’t think the place to pick up men my age is at a club downtown.”

“Where do you want to pick them up, then?” Zayn asked gently. “Wanna go to a classy bar? We can get all dressed up, show off the tits we didn’t have at 18, and see who we can find.”

Louis pursed her lips. “That sounds a lot more my speed, but I was serious when I said I don’t have anything sexy. I haven’t felt sexy in at least a decade, I don’t think.” That made her pause. “Fuck. Our marriage really has been going downhill for a long time, hasn’t it? We had no idea that we’d somehow switched from romantic partners to roommates.”

“All the more reason to go out and get you laid,” Zayn said, nodding to herself.

Louis is 42 and newly divorced with her four daughters off to college when she realizes all the plans she used to have for her life no longer fit. Just as she's starting to figure things out, she meets Harry Styles who proves sometimes starting over turns out so much better than sticking with the original plan.

Too Sexy (for the BBC) (2k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

“Did you know 200 people complained to the BBC officially to say that Olly Alexander’s performance at New Year’s Eve was,” Greg paused to allow the viewers to take in the most provocative part of the dance that had been performed that night for a moment before using air quotes and saying, “too sexy?”

Frowning a bit in a concerned and yet also disappointed way, Greg then continued.

“I actually felt a bit left out. I had an idea.”

I Can Go With The Flow (4k) - Greg James/Gemma Styles, Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“You know how we said Gem’s brother is moving down to London, yeah?” Greg asked as they were sitting around Louis and Grimmy’s table, munching on the vegetables Gemma had insisted they bring whilst they waited for whatever casserole Grimmy had decided to experiment with this week.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said, getting up from the table and heading into the kitchen. “He’s staying with you until he finds a place, isn’t he?”

When Greg comes up with the brilliant plan to introduce Harry to their best friends Grimmy and Louis, Gemma isn't entirely pleased. Then again, she never could have imagined the outcome either.

I Remember (The Distances We Covered) (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

@ColleenisStylish: @LouisTomlinson my dad thinks he’s sat next to you on a train from Edinburgh right now, so if you could confirm that would be amazing. His name is Harry and he’s just had white wine and says you’re on red x

Louis glanced at the glass of red wine in his hand before taking a quick look around those nearest him on the train. Just across the aisle in a seat facing him was a man with graying, curly hair falling into his face yet somehow staying above his glasses. He was reading a book as he tapped his foot, seemingly oblivious to everything around him, and there sitting on the table in front of him was a half glass of white wine.

Somebody Get Me Through This Nightmare (12k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I am not subjecting you to my poor dog in his moment of vulnerability!” Louis cried. “That would be cruel to you, but also to Clifford.” Louis got up and started pacing again like he had been before. “He is so cuddly and honestly is also quite spoiled, and now he probably thinks I’ve abandoned him over this. And I essentially have! I’m serious, Harry, I close my eyes and the visuals of his bald head haunt me. God, how am I going to sleep tonight? I can’t even bring myself to walk back into the house.”

“You are always welcome to sleep on my couch if you need,” Harry offered immediately. “I still don’t think it’s quite as bad as you seem to believe it is, but I’d much rather you be next door than fifteen or twenty minutes away at someone else’s house.”

Louis was flooded with relief. “God, if you really don’t mind, I would really appreciate that.”

Could We Live With Just A Taste? (18k) - Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Green eyes…” Louis mused in the living room. “I swear I’ll come up with something that rhymes with that soon enough. I will.”

“Oh god, you’ve been smoking. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you’d been smoking,” Nick moaned as he turned the corner fully and saw the way Louis was sprawled out on the sofa, his head in Harry’s lap as he poked his fingers into Harry’s dimples.

“Nicholas!” Louis cheered, sitting up. “We’ve not been smoking, but we are a little high. Just a bit. Sit here, sit here. I invited you, which means you’re mine tonight, not Harry’s. Got that?”

Nick looked at Harry with his eyes raised. “Am I usually young Harold’s possession? Here I was thinking I was my own person.”

Both Harry and Louis’ faces scrunched up in looks of distaste causing Niall to laugh.

“Possessive fuckers. Let’s just start the film.”

Or the one where Louis, Harry, and Nick all take awhile to figure things out, but they get there eventually.

An Apple A Day (666) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry smiled a bit as he watched Louis stalk down the aisles filled with various vitamins and supplements, continually grumbling under his breath and occasionally even hissing at the bottles.

“They’ve done absolutely nothing to you,” Harry reminded him, amused.

Louis’ eyes slid from the offensive capsules whose label proclaimed they were now “odorless and more powerful than ever”. He apparently didn’t seem to care that many people used garlic for a number of ailments.

“I am not amused.”

Or the one where Harry and Louis peruse the vitamins and supplements. Louis would really rather not.

I Keep Looking For Magic (36k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry loves Christmas, but this year is special. After ten years of boyfriends all failing to ever meet Harry's family, Harry has a fiance to introduce and things are looking like they will be perfect.

Until they break up.

Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. This leaves him with little choice but to find someone to pretend they are his fiance.

Surely nothing could go wrong with this plan.

Silver-White Winters (10k) - OT5 Relationship

Liam Payne had learned many things as a bartender. He'd learned when people needed to talk, or when they needed a gentle smile. He now knew when they wanted advice or someone to just agree with them. He also had come to recognize when someone was past the limit and needed to be told no.

But when it came to holidays, Liam had learned that when people came into the Neighborhood Pub alone on Christmas Eve, it was for a reason.

Niall, Zayn, Harry, and Louis all definitely have their own reasons for showing up at Liam's bar alone on Christmas Eve. With the help of a surprise winter storm, none of them will have a reason to be alone for long.

#my fics #my fic rec #fic rec #my fic masterpost #yearly masterpost #2022 masterpost

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lianahayze · 1 year ago

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Shadow and the Midnight Misery: Chapter 14

Masterlist

Nothing to say; let's get to it!

Chapter 14. Then... nothing

With it being common for celebrities to seek treatment, there is little surprise at seeing the twenty-two-year-old rockstar turn herself in. Her father, lead singer of the 90s alt-band The Nixers, did his own stint in rehab for a slew of drugs, including heroin. It is unknown why she checked herself in, but according to its website, the Garver Institute “specializes in alcohol and drug addictions.” At the time of publication, Shadow Greere has declined to comment.

Bottle pressed to my lips, I chug. The more I drink, the more I can forget. And boy am I trying to forget.

The article came out yesterday, and I can’t even begin to guess how many times I've already read it. It starts out great. There is a piece about the new studio, a section about how I want the band to go our own way. But then Garver was brought up and it got real bad real fast.

The pictures are slightly grainy and had clearly been taken at a distance. However, they're not grainy enough for me to even pretend that that it’s not me. Everything in the pictures give it away: my hair, the clothes I'm wearing, a general scowl. All of it is one hundred percent me, and anyone is going to be able to tell.

The guys have seen it. I’m certain they have. They've called me a couple of times, but I haven't picked up. I'd rather wallow in self-pity. Dean’s not big on social media, so he probably hasn’t seen it yet. Always a day or two beyond, I have some time before he finds it. Either way, I'm fucked.

I did not want this to get out. I'd been hoping I could just sweep it under the rug and be done with it. Continuing to meet with Dr. Norris is fine, but having all of my dirty laundry aired out for anyone to see? No, it's an absolute nightmare.

I should have said something to Larissa. I could have made up any bullshit excuse. Hell, I could have said I was visiting or even fucking volunteering and that last paragraph would sound completely different. But, instead, I'd freaked out. I’d done this to myself.

I stop drinking for a moment. I haven't binged like this in a while and my body knows it. There's going to be hell to pay in a few hours, but, right now, I don’t care. Right now, I desperate to forget.

I switch to another bottle. It's new and takes me several seconds to open. I sway before I finally break the seal. The bottle firmly attached to my mouth, I walk out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Though I don't plan on staying in here, I turn on the TV. I need noise. The silence in the house is killing me. I turn up the volume before tossing the remote onto the couch. I walk out into the hallway.

Ugh, has there ever been a time when I haven't fucked something up? Maybe that's why the guys wanted me to put away: not because I'm a danger, but because I'm such a massive fuck up. I get it now.

I go upstairs. Not bothering to turn the lights on, I crawl into bed. I almost drop the bottle in my hand but catch it at the last moment. I continue drinking from it, chugging so quickly that it makes my brain hurt.

Everyone is going to be talking shit about me. Even more than they already do. I can't face the internet right now, but part of me is curious. I need to know what they're saying, and I need to know what I'm up against. I'm not the first celebrity whose mental health issues have been exposed, but it still hurts. I’ve been reduced to a headline and a cheap article?

My phone dings but I don't bother checking it. I want to smoke a joint. I want to smoke and drink and pass out. I don't know where my purse is, though, and that's where all my weed is. Is probably in the room somewhere, but I don't care enough to try to find it. Instead, I just keep drinking.

My phone goes off again. I follow the light from the screen, reaching across the bed to grab it. I squint as I look down.

Oh, I have missed calls. And a lot of texts. It's a good thing I have all my notifications turned off for social media because that would probably be blowing up my phone now too.

I look at the text notifications but don't actually open the messages. Most of them are from the guys, but, as I expected, there's nothing from Dean. Good. I should reach out to him and just tell him myself, but I don't think I'm going to. After all, I already had my chance to tell him; instead, I’d spent the entire time complaining about the band.

I check the calls. Most of them are from Wyatt. He's called me five times in total, the last one coming just a few minutes ago when I'd been downstairs deciding which liquor to get into. Maybe they’ve decided that he's the one who’s going to fire me.

I go through my texts from him. There are a lot of them with just one or two words, but it's the last one that really catches me off-guard.

About 5 mins away. At your house soon.

I stare at it. Not trusting my eyes, I read over it again, but still don’t think it’s right. There’s no way he’s trying to come see me right now.

Putting the bottle on the floor, I text him back:

Not here.

I stare down at the screen. A second later he says,

Yeah u are. Pulling up your street

I frown. Seriously, can't this wait until tomorrow?

Knowing that my front door's locked, I decide to get comfortable. He won't be able to talk to me if he can't get in, and there's no way I'm answering the door.

My phone goes off again. I groan and read.

He's here. Great. Just great.

When I don't respond, he sends,

Open the front door.

I huff. I don't want to talk to him; is that really so hard to understand?

Busy.

No you're not. Open the door.

Not interested.

Shadow, don't make me call the cops. I NEED to see that you're okay.

I bolt up. If he calls the cops, I’ll be back at Garver in a heartbeat, only this time it probably won’t be so easy to get out. "Fuck’s sake," I mutter, "fine." Standing up, I drop my phone on the pillow, pick the bottle back up, and slowly head downstairs.

Wyatt's finger is firmly on the doorbell when I answer. He looks down at me, surprised. I move out of the way, letting him in.

He shuts the door behind himself. "You're drinking right now?" he asks, louder than he needs to be. "Shadow, what the hell are you doing?"

"Feeling sorry for myself." I smile up at him. Feeling light on my feet, I lean against the wall. "Throwing myself a party. Whatever you want to call it, but you weren't invited."

"So, you know about the article then?"

"Hmm."

"I can't believe they printed that without telling you." When I tell him that I knew, he gasps. "You just let them?"

"No. But I didn't tell them no."

He stares at me. I can tell that he knows he in over his head and doesn't know what to do. Pissed off, angry Shadow he can deal with; pitiful pathetic Shadow he cannot.

I take another drink.

"Can you... Can you not do that right now?" He yanks the bottle from my hand. Some of the vodka spills onto the floor, causing me to say,

"Hey! Stop making a mess!"

He walks into the kitchen. I follow behind but it takes a while because my legs feel like jelly. When I finally do get to him, he's opening up all the cabinets, saying, "Where's all your booze?" I giggle. "Fuck, Shadow, I'm serious. Now is not the time to go on a bender."

"Oops." Seeing him freak out makes me laugh. It's actually very funny. Him and the other guys have been trying to control my narrative for so long and he's panicking now that he can't. It's the ultimate karma.

He walks over to me. I'm swaying as I look up at him, and he puts his hands on my arms. As he steadies me, I realize I don’t want to be standing up; laying down would be so much better.

"How much did you drink?" he says. It's a good question, but I don't answer. He gives me a slight shake. "Shadow. How much?"

He's acting like he's never seen me drunk before, but nothing could be further from the truth. How many late nights did we have after concerts, passing around bottle after bottle? I have a pretty good tolerance, but he could drink me under the table. Maybe I'm not the one who should have gone to Garver.

"You're not supposed to drink when you're depressed."

Depressed? Who said anything about being depressed? I am finnnnnne.

"Have you still been drinking and doing drugs this entire time?"

Holding back a laugh, I say, "My body, my choice."

"This is not a joke! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"My doctor thinks I'm not a danger, and we can trust my doctor. Right? After all, everyone wanted me to go see one. Remember?"

Leading me over to the table, he sighs. He tried to get me to sit in one of the chairs, but I instead choose the floor. "We wanted you to see a doctor because we were worried about you. Your cocaine habit has gone through the roof." Then, almost so quietly that I can't hear, he adds, "Apparently we should have been more worried about your drinking."

Having been kneeling in front of me, he stands back up. Continuing to go through my cabinets, he says, "We already spoke with the label. As soon as we saw it, we got on the phone with them. We wanted you to join the conversation, but you never answered your phone." He looks over his shoulder at me. "Now I can see why."

He's judging me and I can't decide whether to let it go or complain about it. Stomach pressed against the tile, I spread out on the floor like a starfish. It gets uncomfortable really quick, though, and I flip to my back. The sudden motion makes the contents of my stomach slosh around.

"I don't know what to do with you." I look over at him. "We want you to get better. When we rescheduled that interview, we thought..." I see him shake his head. "I know it's important for you--We know talking about the band is important to you." He pauses. "Even if the spread was entirely about you."

"So, you're not mad about the studio?"

He shakes his head, and I'm surprised. This is the most honest conversation we've had in a while without yelling. I should say something but can’t come up with anything.

"We just want to know what was wrong with your dad's studio, but other than that it's fine."

"Too many bad memories. Can't go there anymore."

"Because we told you that you needed help?"

"And cornered me with a doctor." I turn onto my other cheek so that I'm facing away from him. "It wasn't fair."

I hear him sigh, but he doesn't say anything. I hear the heels of his boots walking across the tile, coming towards me. A few seconds later, arms crossed, he stands over me. I don't move but look up at him out of the corner of my eye.

"Look," he says, "you can be pissed about it. I get that you're pissed about it. But we tried to bring it up before and you just weren't listening."

I frown. "No, you never brought it up."

"Yes. We did. Several times. You might have just been high, and we couldn’t tell. But we did bring it up."

He walks away, leaving on my own. I wonder if what he's said is true. Had they actually mentioned it before? If they had, why don't I remember it? And if he was right and I had been high, what does that say about me?

It means I have a problem.

Standing up, I go over to the counter. Wyatt's placed the bottle of vodka that I'd had earlier by the sink. I look around but don't see him. I'm not sure where he's gone, but, not wanting to wait for him to return, I pick up the bottle, bring it to my lips, and drink. I'm so engrossed in getting as much alcohol in my system as possible that I don't hear him return until,

"Shadow!" He yanks the bottle away. Before I can stop him, he tips it upside down and the vodka pours down the sink.

"Hey!" I start to reach for it, but he holds me back.

"Do not try my patience right now."

He's being obnoxious; why won’t he let me have a little fun?

"Why are you even here?" I ask him. "I didn't ask you to come." Plus, I'd been doing fine on my own. I'd been enjoying sitting in the dark; it made my head hurt less.

"I'm here to take care of you, apparently, because you weren't answering your phone."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I beg to differ. When did you eat last?"

I frown. "Why, do I look fat, or something?"

"You've never looked fat a day in your life." He sounds annoyed as he speaks. "But you need to eat." I tell him I'm not hungry. "I don't care," he replies. "You need food in your system."

"Usually, I just do cocaine when I'm hungry." He looks at me like I'm crazy. "What? I don't have to stop what I'm doing to eat, and it keeps me in shape." He gives me a look over. "Duh."

"Shadow, when people talk about ‘getting in shape,’ that’s not code for developing a drug habit."

He goes to open the fridge, but he won't have much to work with. I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while, so everything that's in there is probably at least a few weeks old.

"Wow, slim pickin’s around here, huh?" He closes the fridge. Pulling out his phone, he says, "What do you want to eat? I'm going to have Ethan stop."

"Stop where?"

"Stop at the store or get takeout. He's on his way over here. So is Dave."

My heart stops. They're coming over here, too? Right now? I shake my head in disbelief. "Tell them not to come."

"They're already on their way."

I continue to shake my head. "No! I do not need a fucking intervention in my own home!" I'm panicking, ready to kick or punch him.

He puts his hands up, saying, "Shadow, we're not trying to intervene on anything. We're just checking on you."

But I don't believe it.

Abruptly turning away from him, I storm out of the kitchen. Well, I storm out the best I can. My legs are wobbly and my head is spinning and my breathing is shallow, but I storm off. Wyatt calls for me, but I ignore him. Maybe if I barricade myself in my room before the other two get here, they'll eventually just give up and leave. Can't have an intervention if they can't see me.

I stumble into my room. I press my body against the door for a moment, blinking slowly. Why is the room spinning? Doing my best to disregard the movements, I lock the door and go straight over to my bed.

I fall onto it face first. It’s pretty comfortable, so I don't move. It's only when I realize that I'm having trouble breathing that I shift onto my side.

My stomach doesn't feel so great. When I rub my hands over my middle, it only makes it worse. I close my eyes and groan. I curl up and lay like that for who knows how long. It's probably just a couple of seconds, but it's enough for me almost to fall asleep.

The only reason I don't is because of a loud thump at the door.

"Shadow! Unlock the door!"

I cover my ears. Why is he shouting? Doesn't he know it's making me feel even worse?

Wyatt keeps pounding on the door. "I seriously just came over here to check on you! The other guys just want to check on you too. We're not kicking you out of the band or whatever other conspiracy theory you have in your head."

If I do have any conspiracy theories, it's because they put them there.

"Seriously. You don't need to be alone right now."

He's wrong. Being alone is exactly what I need.

I continue to try my best to ignore him. He makes it hard, though, and I eventually grab onto a pillow, pressing it over my head. It makes my skull hurt, but I'd rather feel that than listen to Wyatt.

Eventually, though, the pounding stops. I pull down the pillow and look cautiously over at the door. I sit up; there's complete silence. Being as quiet as I can, I get out of bed and tiptoe over to the door. I lean forward and listen, but still, I hear nothing.

Maybe he's just pretending he's not there anymore to trick me into opening the door. "Wyatt?" I say. He doesn't answer. Slowly, I unlock the door, crack it open just an inch, and look outside.

He's not there. Opening the door all the way, I step out into the hallway. Wyatt is nowhere to be found. Confused, I lean against the wall. Where did he go? Did he just give up? It that's the case, the least he could have done is said goodbye.

"Wyatt?"

He doesn't respond. When I toddle down the hall, I suddenly realize why.

Standing at the top of the stairs, I hear the front door opening, Wyatt standing in front of it. In walk Ethan and Dave.

I start to make my way down the stairs.

"Get out of my house!" I yell, causing them to look up. They’re alarmed, but I don't care. "I'll call the police!"

Dave, smug as ever, doesn't buy it. "You're going to call the police on the people who came to check on you?"

"Not now Dave," says Wyatt.

"Fuck off!" I yell at them. "I didn't ask you to come here; I don't want you here. Leave. Me. Alone!"

"You don't mean that, Shadow."

I turn to Ethan. I'm still on the stairs, gripping the banister, so I have to look down at him. He looks tired, more tired than I feel. "Ethan, if you had any common sense, you'd ditch these two. All they're going to do is complain and gang up on you and ruin your whole entire life."

Dave starts to say something, but Wyatt stops him.

"No, go head. What did you want to tell me?"

"He doesn't want to tell you anything," says Wyatt. "We just came to see how you were after the article."

"I feel like shit. I think it's obvious." I start to walk towards them. I'm about halfway down the stairs now, and, looking at all of them in turn, I say, "I need a drink."

None of them seem amused. They move to block the way. I get down to the bottom step and try to push passed them but they're stronger and I fail.

"Move," I say. When they don't, I repeat myself, this time with more force. "Move!"

Ethan asks me how much I've had to drink but I ignore him. They're not my parents; I don't have to answer to them.

Wyatt attempts to reach for me, but I push his hands away. I almost lose my footing, but Dave catches me. I yank myself out of his grasp.

"Shadow," says Wyatt, "you need to calm down. Let's find a place to relax. You're going to drink water and I'm going to order you food."

I don't like his plan--and not just because he's talking to me like I'm a child.

I shake my head. "No."

I start back up the stairs, but he reaches for me. This time his grasp is strong, and I can feel a bruise forming on my wrist. I try to wriggle away but can't. Either he's been working out or I'm way more inebriated than I thought.

It doesn't stop me from continuing to pull away. I tell him to let me go, but he doesn't. I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. All the while, he's asking me to stop moving but all I want to do is run away. It gets so bad, that, as I'm yelling and pulling, my foot slips, I lose my footing, and go flying.

Only this time, no one catches me.

I crash against the stairs, first my arms, then my shoulder. I cry out in pain, looking up at the guys. They look horrified, but I can't keep my focus on them for too long. Soon, everything goes blurry and my vision cuts in and out.

Then... nothing.

This is probably one of my favorite chapters I've written for this story so far. Thanks for reading.

-L.H.

#writing #writer #writblr #novel #novelist #free story #free novel #free fiction #fiction #music novel #music story #satmm #shadow and the midnight misery

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years ago

Text

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

remus lupin x animagus!reader

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

summary: you've kissed, you've confessed your love... still, nobody is quite sure what your relationship is with remus. regardless, the slytherins seem to have already made up their minds.

notes: slut shaming, swearing, i'm a bit rusty pls forgive and hey one more chapter left! special thanks to my lovely mutuals @emmaev @sw34terw34ther and to @mooncleaver for the sweet comments

w/c: 6.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

now this is an open-shut case i guess i should've known from the look on your face every bait and switch was a work of art

“c’mon, i think it makes me look badass,” sirius grinned, holding up his robes in the middle of the dining hall to admire the long, faded scar that crawled on the left side of his body from his thigh to his knee.

“face it, padfoot. you’ll never look badass, not when you have a five step haircare routine,” james spoke through a mouthful of waffle.

“you’re just jealous.” sirius pointed his fork at james. “you mess up your hair on purpose so that people think your bird’s nest is cool and intentional and not because you’ve never used conditioner in your life.”

james turned his head to the side and met your eye. “back me up here, thumper. my hair looks good, right?”

you held your free hand up to your mouth as you finished chewing. “do you want the nice answer or the real answer?” you teased. remus, sitting on your other side, plucked the toast from your grasp while you were distracted. he took a bite, simply raising his eyebrows at the glare you tossed him.

“you wound me!” james shook his head, curls flying. “i s’pose it’s my bad. you’re mean to everyone except moony.” james looked at you meaningfully and the amusement slipped from your face. remus froze mid-chew.

“you’re right, actually,” peter said, quirking his head as he took in the slow blush creeping across remus’ cheeks. “the two of them have been awfully sweet on each other lately.”

from under the table, you stepped on remus’ foot indicatively. there was a mutual understanding.

ever since that morning at the hospital wing, where remus had finally admitted to you (and himself) about how he felt, there’d been an almost imperceptible shift in the marauders’ dynamic. neither of you told the other marauders what had occurred. you two hadn’t officially talked about it either. of course, there’d always been an obvious electricity between you and remus—that was evident to more than just the marauders—but this new development was subtle enough to fly over your friends’ heads. even peter, the most perceptive of all five of you, hadn’t been able to put a finger on it.

sirius pressed his palms to the table and pushed himself off his seat, leaning over his breakfast platee. he made a show of getting in remus’ face to examine his expression. “is there a reason you’re blushing, moony, my boy?”

“i’m not blushing,” remus said, blushing.

“sure,” james said, stretching out his vowels sarcastically. “and you haven’t been playing footsie with thumper either, right?”

“yep. i mean, nope. wait-” you stammered, “-i mean, no, we have definitely not been ‘playing footsie’ or whatever. why are you guys so obsessed with what we’re doing anyway?” you stared at james pointedly. “i think you should mind your own business. maybe then you would’ve noticed the syrup on your shirt.”

james looked down. there was a growing spot of sticky maple syrup on the collar of his white button down, which he’d layered under a sweater. “damn it,” james muttered, rubbing at the stain and making it worse.

“just take off your shirt, james,” you chided, settling into your seat as you watched him struggle to neaten up.

“woah there, thumper. at least take me on a date first before you try and take my clothes off.”

you pursed your lips in an unsuccessful attempt to keep a straight face. james stuck his hands under his sweater and began fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. you felt a pair of arms drape over your shoulders and clasp together at your front. remus’ sighed in content, his breath tickling your ear.

your heart jumped and began to sputter to life with a little more enthusiasm than seemed dignified. you hoped remus couldn’t feel it.

“what are you doing?” you whispered, keeping your eyes fixed in front of you. you were scared that if you turned your head, remus’ face would be too close and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from kissing him right then and there.

“can’t i hug you?” remus said, feigning confusion. “what, are friends not allowed to hug each other?”

“what are you doing?” sirius butted in loudly. “you’re being real touchy-feely with thumper…” sirius looked at peter knowingly.

peter huffed, all disgruntled. sirius was, to put it gently, not the most graceful matchmaker.

“what, are friends not allowed to hug each other?” you repeated remus’ earlier words, and the boy behind you tightened his arms around you approvingly.

“fine, then why don’t you let me hug you like that?” james had his stained shirt tucked under his arm as he stood above you and remus, unconvinced.

“i mean, your arms are kind of busy at the moment,” you pointed out, referencing james’ shirt.. “don’t play coy,” james tutted. you were saved from answering by a shift in conversation. “anyway, i have to bring my shirt back to the common room. anyone wanna come?”

you and remus made no effort to move or offer your company.

“fine, i’ll come,” sirius said, standing from his seat like spending time with james was draining his life force. “i can’t believe you’re tearing me away from my best girl…” sirius grumbled. from the corner of his eye, he checked for any of remus’ tells. nothing. if anything, remus looked a bit smug.

“you’ll be fine for ten minutes,” james rolled his eyes, hitting the back of sirius’ head. james lowered his voice so only sirius could hear. “moony, on the other hand, looks like he’d shrivel up and die without her.”

“is it just me,” sirius murmured, “or are they more disgusting than usual?”

“nope, not just you,” james agreed. “at first i thought i’d caught a bug, but then i realized it was just a physical nauseated reaction to the two of their mutual pining bullshit.”

“godric, i’m just waiting for one of them to grow a pair and confess; put me out of my damn misery.”

for two of the brightest students in your year, it was laughable how inept your communication was. something had shifted between you and remus; that much was obvious. the facts were laid out, plain and simple, like playing cards facing upward. you loved remus. remus loved you. you would do anything for remus. remus would do anything for you.

so why was it so hard to pick up the damn cards?

your lives had quickly become intertwined and there was an unspoken agreement that the two of you belonged to each other, whatever that meant. this is to say, quite literally, as neither of you had clarified what that hospital room night actually meant for your relationship. your friends continued as they had before, dropping sly comments and encouraging either one of you in private, but if anything, with more vigor. you were hesitant to tell the girls about what happened at the hospital wing. nothing had really transpired, but it felt so intimate, like the sheen of a bubble that could be popped by the slightest shift in surface tension. remus made you feel comfortable and safe, but he kept you on edge too. there was nothing you feared more than losing him, and the unpredictability of his condition, rising tensions in the wizarding world, and volatility of a budding situationship did the opposite of give you the confidence to broach the conversation of “what are we?”

it should’ve been easy. it should’ve been obvious.

remus had become ambidextrous, writing with his left hand so he could hold yours with his right. you carried a little comb with you and would work out his bedhead at breakfast every morning. if remus got to breakfast earlier, he’d make your coffee exactly the way you liked it. if you beat him, you’d steep his tea with water at the correct temperature to pull all subtle flavors from the leaves. you may or may not have stayed after divination class to ask professor trelawney for tea brewing tips.

tonight, like countless others, remus was by your side like a shadow, whispering affections into your ear throughout the day and offering his warmth during quiet evenings in the common room. remus could listen to your voice, low and steady and hushed, spinning visual films with your words. it would’ve been so easy for him to fall asleep, grounded by your weight on his lap and the popping of logs and soft flipping of pages, but remus always fought sleep. he treasured these peaceful moments with you too much to lose a single minute to unconsciousness.

remus couldn’t recall a more beautiful sight than you backlit by the dying flames of the common room fireplace. he nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck and chuckled quietly when he felt you shiver.

“rem?” you closed your book. you wrapped one of your hands around remus’ side and let the other find its way into his hair, where you dug your fingers into his roots with a loose fist.

remus hummed in acknowledgement.

“oh, are you sleepy?”

“no, no, i’m awake,” remus insisted, speaking into your neck. his lips, warm and familiar, brushed against your skin with the tenderness of a lover’s caress.

“if you say so…” you sighed, more than happy to fall asleep with him cuddled up to you. “i believe you. i totally do.”

“thanks…” remus whispered, more so to himself than to you. “i love you.” his confession was breathless, muddled by the thick exhaustion in his voice, but you could understand well enough. there was a distance between you and him, a restraint from remus yet to dissolve, but in these intimate moments his barrier fell and he allowed himself to love you fully. you didn’t need the constant reassurance to know how remus felt. his hand on the small of your back, the massaging of your wrists after they’d cramped from writing an essay, and the seeking of your body in a sea of students during passing periods was enough.

it should’ve been easy, right? it should’ve been obvious. in a very un-gryffindor-like fashion, it seemed neither of you wanted to take the leap into labels… into commitment.

there would be a right time, you promised yourself. and you’d wait for it patiently, because you’d waited for remus for years now, and you’d wait forever if it meant having him in your arms like you had him now.

it seemed you were alone in your patience, because when morning came and lily screeched, overjoyed at the prospect of her friends together, at last.

“oh merlin!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “i bloody knew it! i saw it coming—didn’t i see it coming, dorcas?”

“yes, yes you did,” dorcas rasped, still recovering from her interrupted slumber. “to be fair, we all saw it coming. even james saw it coming.”

“right, but i guessed most accurately, didn’t i? you and mary better cough up,” lily said while wiggling her shoulders triumphantly. her boasting was not lost on you.

“lily, did you bet on us?”

“um- well, yes.”

“dear godric.” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “what time is it? actually, it doesn’t matter. all i know is that it’s too early for this.”

“wait-” mary scampered out the dorm room. “you said ‘us.’ so you admit it? there’s an ‘us’ now?”

“yeah, an ‘us’ that fell asleep on the couch together! for the second time,” dorcas pursed her lips judgingly.

“i swear, i am going to rip whoever is being this loud into tiny little pieces-” sirius complained, stretching his arms and stumbling groggily out of the boys’ room to investigate. he immediately sobered at the sight of the three scheming girls and the two curled up figures dominating the common room. “holy shit,” sirius breathed. “prongs! wormy! get out here!” sirius turned and hurried back into his room, socks sliding, to wake up the other marauders.

you knew this from the last time you and remus had been caught sleeping on the couch, but remus was not a morning person. he groaned, turning his head so his face was flat on your chest, hiding from the unforgiving sunlight and your friends’ voyeuristic gawking.

“we’ve already done this,” you snipped, “can we collectively move on and start the day, please?”

“but it’s so fun to make you uncomfortable!” james smirked, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow on the banister. “other than quidditch, it’s my favorite pastime.”

you had half the mind to slip out from underneath remus’ body and hex james’ mouth shut, but how could you, when remus was resting so soundly and holding you so snugly? you could count each freckle on his face if you tried. you could feel his eyelashes tickle your skin. if you focused, you could hear the rhythmatic beating of his heart, slow like molasses and indicative of how much he trusted you; how comfortable he was.

gone was the anxiety of trying to be perfect around him. remus felt like the only person you could trust with your whole being, and knew you would do anything for him, unconditionally and always.

on the rare occasion remus was not the one walking you to class, lily would have her arm linked through yours as she pulled you through the crowd, an expert navigator commanding the respect of the sea.

“it feels like forever since we’ve spent time together, just the two of us,” you said, voice raised to be audible over the bustling students. “that’s probably my fault too; i’ve been- uh, spending a lot of time with rem.”

“rem…” lily mimicked. “yeah, you definitely have. don’t stress about it, though. i’m happy—and i truly, truly mean this—that you and him have finally figured out your feelings for each other. you make the best couple.”

“oh, well we’re not officially dating or anything-”

“are you kidding?” lily scoffed. “i swear, the man could propose to you and you would still think he’d meant it platonically. you’ve kissed, haven’t you? is that not enough?”

“i mean, i don’t want to push it. he’s still figuring things out, i think, and i-”

you never finished your thought, nor did lily finish scolding you, because your conversation was overshadowed by the snide voices of lucius malfoy and his lackeys.

“have you heard?” barty crouch sneered. “lupin’s started fooling around with the mudblood girl, that filthy blood traitor.”

“he’s a half blood to begin with,” lucius said. “hardly pure enough to ‘betray.’”

“it doesn’t matter to me,” evan rosier spat. “he’s still sleeping with the school slut. he’s a mudblood by association, that scum.”

your brows furrowed and you craned your neck to catch the conversation. lily was pale and her eyes flickered between you, the slytherins, and the crowd of students headed toward their next classes. lily tugged at your arm, silently asking you to leave it be.

you bit your lip hard enough to leave indents. it didn’t matter what the slytherins said about you; they were horrible blood supremacists who’d find a way to spread rumors no matter what. you knew remus wouldn’t take them to heart.

“and the evans girl? she’s sloppy seconds, isn’t she?” barty cackled. “y’know, she’s not bad for a mudblood. if she weren’t such a stuck-up bitch, i might go for it.”

“that’s disgusting, crouch,” malfoy jeered. “have you really become so desperate? you’d seek comfort from a mudblood?”

rosier elbowed barty. “she’s a fuckin’ prude anyway. even if she weren’t, why’d she ever go for your ugly face?”

“hey!” crouch protested. “look at yourself, why don’t’cha?”

“boys, calm down,” lucius said coolly. “you’re making fools of yourselves.” there was an evident distinction in the way the three of them spoke. lucius was articulate and his voice, sleek. evan rosier and barty crouch were crass and loose-tongued.

something about hearing lily’s name come out of the three slytherins’ slimy mouths made your blood boil; potions be damned, you were stewing in fury. you could deal with dirt on your name, but lily had been dragged into the center of gossip by association and you wouldn’t stand for slander on your innocent friend.

“i swear to fucking m-” you seethed, cracking your knuckles. you jumped when lily placed a placating hand on your forearm.

“it’s okay. let’s just go,” lily said nervously. lily was never one to shy away from confrontation, especially not when it came to putting blood supremacists in their place, so her cautiousness spoke volumes.

you shook lily off you, perhaps with an undeserved amount of aggression, and let your bag drop to the ground with a heavy thud. you stalked in the slytherins’ direction, not sure what you were going to say but at least sure you were going to walk away with the three of them in quivering, pathetic shambles.

“oi, crouch!” you called as you approached, clutching your wand a little tighter in your hand. “you been talking about me?”

“ah, it’s lupin’s girl!” rosier snickered, lightly elbowing lucius.

“ah, the marauder’s mudblood pet,” lucius said, lip curling in distaste. his eyes bore into yours and you shivered—not in the way remus made you shiver, but a trickling stream of dread down your spine. “what can we do for you?”

“don’t play dumb, malfoy,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “i mean, you could at least pretend to be capable of forming coherent thought. stupid isn’t a good look on you.”

there was a flicker of fire in lucius’ usually cold, expressionless eyes. you knew it was a bad idea—a reckless, thoughtless, potentially dangerous idea—to provoke someone like lucius, who had the family name to ruin your life, probably. still, you couldn’t help but stand a little taller as you watched lucius’ jaw twitch, smug at the prospect of having gotten under the pompous bastard’s skin.

“watch yourself, little girl,” crouch hissed, defensive on his leader’s behalf. “you should know your place by now. and if you don’t, we can show you.” rosier pushed out from behind lucius and crouch, tilting his head to look you up and down crudely.

crouch was taller than you, not by much, but it was still a bit of a power imbalance to be looking up at him. “i could say the same for you,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “keep my name out of your fucking mouth. keep evans’ name out of your dirty, foul mouth.”

“we’re not the only people talking, sweetheart,” rosier smiled viciously. his tongue ran over his top teeth like he was sizing you up for his next meal. “the whole school’s curious; who’d you fuck first? potter? black?” he spat out sirius’ name bitterly. “those fucking blood traitors… and now you’re going for remus lupin, the half-breed?”

“watch it,” you snarled. “you better fucking watch yourself.”

lucius, who’d been acting like he was above all this, cracked an amused smile. “the real question is, where does pettigrew stand?”

barty crouch laughed like lucius’ comment was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. crouch’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. his eyes roamed your body greedily and it took everything in you not to cover yourself and run. “i’d love to know… what’s lupin like in bed? lupin’s a bit of an animal, isn’t he? tell me, is he rough with you?”

crouch’s mouth was still moving. he was going on about remus’ scars, his clothes; worst of all, using too many words that made it seem like crouch knew more than he should. you weren’t sure. you couldn’t hear it. blood was rushing to your face and your cheeks burned; if you pressed your hands to your face you thought you might hear a sizzle. your heart was halfway up your throat, threatening to beat a hole straight through your chest. the world had gone muddy. your vision was clouded by your fury, and all you could hear was a shrill alarm in your head, screaming at you to punch someone, slap someone, knee someone in the groin…

“shut up!” you shrieked, holding your wand out in front of your body defensively. your voice cracked. your eyes were burning, and the three slytherins could tell how much their taunts had affected you. you felt like you’d lost, just by showing emotion.

“shut up!” crouch mimicked in a squeaky, sing-song voice. “shut up, shut up, shut up-”

“why do you care?” you felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum. but your question remained—why you? why lily? why remus?

“because you disgust me,” lucius spoke through bared teeth, venom dripping from each syllable. “you and your little blood traitor troupe are a black mark on this school. you-” lucius pointed at you, “-have whored your way into the purest wizarding families, and-”

you slapped lucius across the face with a resounding crack. it was delightful.

crouch rushed to lucius’ side immediately, fretting over his role model like an overbearing mother. lucius’ face was scarlet, from both the humiliation and the blood you’d raised to the surface of his cheek with the impact of your palm. his pale skin made the handprint all the more obvious.

“bitch!” lucius cupped the side of his face tenderly. “do you know who my family is? you pathetic, stupid girl. my father will hear about this!”

“you’re a bloody asshole, malfoy! and the two of you-” you gestured broadly to crouch and rosier, “-can go fuck yourselves. you leave us alone, or i swear i’ll hex you straight into the hospital wing next time.”

you forced yourself to hold their gazes, clenching your jaw to stop your bottom lip from trembling—because damn it, you were nervous—and swallowed down any creeping regrets. it was necessary, you thought. maybe now they’d finally leave you alone. there’d been too many close calls of late, and if this was what it took to get the slytherins off remus’ back, then so be it. you’d take a million horrible names; that was nothing compared to the destruction if remus’ secret was revealed.

you turned around, closing your eyes and releasing a breath so deep that it felt like you’d just compressed your lungs, before dragging yourself over to where lily stood in the corridor, clutching your bag with white knuckles.

you smiled at her weakly. lily did not return your smile. instead, her mouth dropped open in a panicked exclamation, and before you could ask what was wrong, she was flinging a spell at you.

no, not at you. behind you.

“expelliarmus!” lily shouted, voice strong and clear. she set your bag on the floor and flung hers off her shoulder before rushing to your side. you swung your head in both directions, eyes wide as you caught up with the sudden action. lily held crouch’s wand in her hand, eyes flaming as furiously as her cheeks. strands of lily’s hair stuck to the chapstick on her lips, and even as she awkwardly wiped them from her face, she looked absolutely terrifying.

“dear merlin,” you gaped, watching your friend storm toward the three boys, all hesitancy evaporated. in fact, it seemed like she was steaming clouds of fury out her ears.

“you!” lily seethed. ��you pathetic, gargoyle-faced bastards! yeah, i’m talking to you!” she threw crouch’s wand at the ground and you imagined she was currently resisting the urge to stomp it in half. (lily had always displayed more self-restraint than you.)

lily’s outrage drew the attention of students who’d begun trickling out of their last classes of the day. “only cowards attack while someone’s back is turned,” she said, shoving an accusatory finger into crouch’s chest. “and you are the most deranged coward i’ve ever met. you talk big game around your little friends, but you don’t have the balls to say it to my face, do you?

“sloppy seconds, did you say i was? merlin, i didn’t realize you had enough gray matter to become more brainless,” lily scoffed. “i am nobody’s. unlike you, i have a sense of self-worth. i don’t need to cling onto some man-” lily glared at lucius, “-to validate myself. you’re pathetic, is what you are.”

crouch opened his mouth, likely trying to find the right words to respond, but lily was swift in her exit. tossing her long hair over her shoulder, she crossed the courtyard with a stony, unwavering expression. you watched in a mixture of awe and admiration as she swept up both your bags and nodded to you in beckoning. she was casual, like casting magic and digging verbal talons into blood supremacist slytherins was an everyday practice.

“are you okay?” you whispered, taking your bag from lily and letting your shoulder brush against hers to let her know you were by her side. “wait, that’s a stupid question. how are you feeling? should we go back to the dorm? or- or- we could talk to mcgonagall?” you stammered, tripping over your feet as you tried to keep up with lily’s long, determined strides.

“i’m fine,” lily said. her fists were gripping the fabric of her skirt, so lily was obviously not fine. “i’m fine. let’s just go back to the common room,” she repeated, reassuring herself more than she was responding to you.

you rubbed your forehead. the conflict felt neverending, and you were beginning to feel naive for thinking there’d ever be a light at the end of the tunnel. the wizarding world was on the path to war, after all. there was nothing but dark days ahead. it seemed like you were at the edge of the hurricane, not quite swept into the relentless winds but already swaying as the force of the storm challenged your resilience.

as expected, the common room was bustling with frenzied post-class students rushing to their dorms for afternoon naps and gossip about the day's happenings.

“lily?” marlene called, arm swung loosely over the velvet arm of a plush couch. she looked very cool. “y’good, darling?”

“no,” lily said bluntly. “not at all. those bloody slytherins-”

“it’s not bellatrix, is it?” mary asked nervously. regardless of blood status, bellatrix was an intimidating figure to all.

“no, it’s malfoy. unfortunately.” you frowned. “hoenstly, i’d prefer if it were bellatrix… at least she’s not a bloody coward…”

the mood quickly dampened, evident by the way marlene pushed herself up on her elbows to listen more attentively and mary took a seat on the ottoman, pushing her essay aside in the middle of writing a word.

“wait, what about malfoy?” dorcas asked, hushed.

lily seethed. “the foul git was talking shit in the courtyard, blabbing on about r-”

the girls looked surprised. lily wasn’t one to swear.

“bunny!” remus called from the portrait hole, waving his arm excitedly as he stepped over the threshold. “hey, i missed you in potions, is everything alright?”

five heads whipped around to stare at remus and the three boisterous marauders just behind him. lily rolled her eyes.

“i swear to merlin, if i have to deal with any more of these idiot men, i’m going to be in azkaban by tonight,” lily said, glaring at james very specifically. “i can’t stand them.”

“sure, lils.” marlene didn’t push, but her insinuation was clear.

you ignored lily’s complaints. you, for one, would never object to seeing remus.

lucius malfoy had been wearing his hair down recently.

“how’s your hand?” remus asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. the courtyard didn’t feel the same after your previous altercation, but here you were, sitting with your legs swung over remus’ lap as you skimmed your potions textbook.

“a little sore, but probably not as sore as malfoy’s face,” you snorted. “it was so worth it. if i could do it again, i would’ve punched him. maybe i could’ve broken his nose, or something.”

remus hummed. you’d told him what had happened. at first, you’d omitted the worst of the details, but with a bit of coaxing, remus pulled the full story from you. it was a new feeling, being able to share everything with someone and knowing that they wanted to carry everything you had to offer.

“want me to kiss it better?” remus said coyly, taking your hand in his and pressing a long kiss to your wrist. his lips crept in small steps across your skin. he placed one kiss on the fleshy part at the base of your thumb, another on the back of your hand, a dusting of kisses across your knuckles, until he grew bored and tugged you closer with the hand of yours he was already holding until you were close enough for him to kiss your lips instead.

“much better,” you laughed, giddy. “you- you make me feel safe, remus. sometimes i’m scared that there’ll be… well- and sometimes i’m scared something will happen to you. i don’t know what it is, rem, but there’s nobody else for me. i know it for a fact.”

“fuck, i love you so much,” remus breathed, pulling you in by the chin for another breathless kiss. “merlin, i don’t know what i did to deserve you.”

“you’re cute. and you help me carry my books,” you answered thoughtfully. “that’s what you did.”

“i see how it is,” remus grinned. “i’m just your arm candy and bookshelf, huh?”

“i suppose you could also be my boyfriend.”

“boyfriend?” remus furrowed his brows. a volt of panic shot through you—was it too early for labels? but remus only smiled. “boyfriend… yeah, can i be your boyfriend? i would love to be your boyfriend. i would love to be yours.”

“yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “yes, rem. yes, be mine.”

“yours,” remus agreed, leaning his forehead on yours. “yes, i want to be yours forever, as long as you let me.”

“wait, does this mean i get to be your girlfriend?”

remus choked with a surprised laugh. “i thought that was implied?”

“just checking!” you poked his cheek. “i just don’t wanna get things wrong with you.”

“you could never do anything wrong, silly girl,” remus chuckled, enveloping your poking hand in his own warmer one. “i agree. there’s nobody else for me either. whatever we do, or whatever happens, it’s enough that i get to do it with you.”

with your back pressed up against the rough trunk of the crabapple tree, feet pressed into the dusty earth, hand squeezed in remus’, and his reassurance in your mind, you felt grounded for the first time in…

“it’s been a long time.” snape said curtly. his robes swished around his calves and he gripped the strap of his bag tighter as he came to a stop in front of you and remus’ conjoined bodies.

you raised your eyebrows. “come to avenge your pal, malfoy?”

snape ignored your question. “i hear the astronomy class is studying moon phases this week. yes, that reminds me… how are things for you, lupin?”

you felt remus tighten his grip around your hand and you placed your own on his thigh reassuringly. as much as you’d love watching snape’s face as you slammed it into the bark of the tree which was so close and right there, you’d drawn enough attention to yourself to last months.

“i don’t understand, sniv- severus. are you falling behind in astronomy? i hear the ravenclaws have a fantastic tutor group for struggling students,” remus quipped.

snape swallowed hard. his eyes flickered around the courtyard before returning to remus’. snape had barely acknowledged you.

“what do you ev-” you started, but were cut off.

“you and your blood traitor friends best watch your backs, lupin,” snape hissed, emphasizing remus’ name like it was a poison. “i’d watch the attitude too. perhaps the missus could learn from that as well.”

remus’ eyes narrowed. he stood, sick of looking up at a boy he despised. at his full height, remus towered over snape. he stood much taller than most at hogwarts, anyway.

“are you threatening me, severus?” remus said lowly, fingers twitching at his sides. you weren’t sure if he was holding himself back from punching snape or grabbing his want and hexing him into next monday’s charms class.

“is there a reason you’d feel that way, remus?” snape bit back. “the innocent need not keep secrets.”

“oh fuck off, would you?”

the three of you redirected your gaze to james, swaggering over with his shirt collar crooked and wand tucked behind his ear, covered by his intentionally disheveled hair.

“potter,” snape spat, even more venomous than he had been with remus’ name. “what are you doing here?”

“can’t i enjoy a lovely afternoon, snivellus?” james waved his arm in a broad gesture to the weather. “i could ask you the same. i’d think that with all your free time, you might’ve had time to try taking a shower. i guess i was mistaken.”

“yes, you are mistaken,” snape said. “you never were the smartest, were you?”

james looked unfazed. “are you a procrastinator, snivellus? i know you’d drop anything for slughorn, but personal hygiene is just as important, mate. how can you expect anyone to take you seriously when you’ve got lice and such a sallow, sad face?”

sirius smirked. “we can give you some tips, if you’d like. ‘course, you’d have to step away from our mates here. i wouldn’t want them to get caught in the- aguamenti!”

with a sputter and burst, a stream of continuous water sprang from sirius’ wand. he held it with both hands, waving it side to side like a firefighter putting out a flame.

snape was furious as he stood shivering in his drenched robes. if he hadn’t been such a lecherous little blood supremacist, you might’ve felt bad for him. he looked like a bad luck-stricken black cat, drenched in the rain and trembling on his feet.

“incendio!” snape shouted, aiming his wand directly at sirius’ chest.

sirius, always on the offense, would have surely caught on fire if it weren’t for james’ quick protection spell.

the two boys stared at each other through james’ magical shield, and you and remus took this time to sneak past snape undetected. you rounded the courtyard until you were behind james and sirius. sirius was breathing heavily. james’ jaw was clenched.

there had always been something much deeper and more personal between snape and james and sirius. peter went along with the deep rivalry simply because his friends felt the same way. remus was forced into it through snape’s blackmailing. and you, by asossiation, were now on his blacklist.

you suppose, as a muggleborn, you would’ve been on that list regardless.

“rictusempra,” you muttered under your breath, discreetly pointing your wand at snape’s ankles. you tried not to smirk as the boy fell to the ground, trying his best not to laugh. he looked like a seal, all slippery and wet in his all-black garb, squirming around on the ground collecting dirt and dead leaves.

sirius found this extremely funny, and needed no magical push to burst into raucous laughter. james looked impressed. when he met your eye, he could tell by your poorly concealed amusement that you were the culprit.

“severus snape!”

bellatrix’ voice slashed through the air. “severus, get up! you’re making a fool of yourself.”

with great difficulty, snape pushed himself onto his knees, still clutching his abdomen in pain. bellatrix rolled her eyes unsympathetically and flicked her wrist in snape’s general direction, lifting the spell and allowing him to collapse to the ground in a damp, defeated heap.

“ah, the little blood traitors,” bellatrix taunted. “i presume you are responsible for this?”

you looked at remus with tired eyes. “let’s go. if a teacher catches us, we’re dead. mostly me. i’ve been involved in too many of these… scuffles of late.”

remus nodded.

snape was clambering to his feet in shame. he swung his damp bag over his shoulder, then flipped it open and began frantically checking its contents. he glanced up at james and sirius, but his eyes were searching for remus. when they settled on remus’ face, emotionless and poker, severus’ expression turned murderous.

from within the bag he tugged out a book. it was soaked through and most likely water damaged beyond repair, but snape lifted the book far enough out of the bag to flash the cover and spine at you.

it came back to you like fragments of glass.

“lupine lawlessness: why lycanthropes don’t deserve to live.”

you knew snape hadn’t come over for the sake of saying hello. you figured he, being the creep he was, just enjoyed making people uncomfortable.

he had wanted you to read the spine of the book, just like he’d wanted you to find it in the first place. he’d dropped it in the potions classroom, knowing you’d pick it up. he’d done so the day of slughorn’s party, when he knew he could catch you off guard.

snape, who’d been thrashing on the ground like a fish out of water only moments ago, was now eye level with bellatrix and suddenly looking like much more of a threat than you’d anticipated. his hand was hiddin in his bag and you assumed he must’ve been gripping the book. he narrowed his eyes, acknowledging your presence for the first time, and imperceptibly, jutted his head in bellatrix’s direction.

your blood went cold. in this very same courtyard, a few days ago, barty crouch had tried to attack you while you had your back turned. isn’t that what you’d just done to snape?

maybe you should’ve known better than to underestimate snape. he wasn’t as physically capable as james and sirius, as influential as malfoy, or as frightening as bellatrix, but he was sly. snape was nowhere near bellatrix’s good graces, but he was about to be.

ೃ⁀➷

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