#squished bug story

[castlefly]

[3rosx]

Boothill x Fem!Reader, angsty smut headcanons because his lightcone story was leaked and it's kinda sad so of course I had to make something out of it.

Boothill likes kissing you, he likes the feeling of your warm mouth on his. The way his mechanical heart would need to run more power whenever you ask him to lean down so you could place your soft lips wherever you'd like, and the tingly feeling his face gets after you do. Because his head is the only thing left of him that's human, the only part of him that can feel things while the rest of his body is just a big chunk of metal and wires that keeps him functioning.

Boothill likes giving head, likes the feeling of your thighs squishing his cheeks when you squirm. He loves it when they shake right against him when you're close to cummin' and goes even harder on you just too feel those plushy legs suffocate him.

Boothill hates that his body doesn't feel anything, yes he does feel arousal, but it's different from the way normal people with normal parts do. When he get's aroused, his system gets all bugged and runs on more steam than usual. His metal body gets all hot, like a laptop that's been running for days. It didn't bother him that much at first, he just had to take a few breaks when he gets too hot when he's eating you out. It was fine at first.

But times goes on and he starts to wonder if you're fine with how things are, even though you assure him time and time again that you are okay with it. As long as it's him. But even if you're okay with it, there's still a thought in his head that he's not giving you enough. You deserve more than he could give you. You might be fine with it now, but who know? After a few or so years you might think that this arrangement isn't enough for you and leave him for someone who can, someone whole and not broken like him.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.

Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.

This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.

Now then, let's get on with the show.

🥀 Story One.

In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.

Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.

Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.

But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.

As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.

But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.

But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.

But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.

🥀 Story Two.

Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.

He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.

And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.

Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.

Nothing.

You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.

Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.

Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.

It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.

Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.

Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.

In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.

🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403

APRIL 24TH - Story One is AI.

[ohimsummer]

SATORU, your muse ｡˚✐~

— Satoru eases open the door of the house. You’re not home, so he doesn’t feel the need to make his usual grand entrance. Shoes are left at the door, jacket on the rack, and Satoru makes way to the bedroom. Once inside, something on your nightstand immediately catches his eye.

It’s your sketchbook; a now worn, leather notepad that he’d bought you months ago after the old one was filled. You rarely, if ever, let him see your artwork, so Gojo would usually resort to peeking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were working on. He always teased you for keeping your art a secret, but now that he has a chance to look at your projects uninterrupted, he hesitates. For a second.

Satoru flips open to the first page. It’s just random doodles of flowers and animals, ones he recognizes from the garden in the park you two frequent. The next page warrants the same mundane results: bugs and trees and the tops of skyscrapers and whatever random things that would grab your interest while you two enjoyed the heat of the sun.

The next page catches Gojo by surprise. It’s a bird, but not just any bird, he realizes. It’s a songbird, one he’d half-heartedly pointed out to you one day because he recalled reading about it online. You weren’t even listening to him, or so he’d thought. It’s kind of endearing actually that you’d take the time to draw it. And it’s not just the bird, either. It’s the macaroons he’d mentioned wanting to get one evening, a bouquet consisting of a flower Gojo’d randomly plucked and presented to you, a familiar pair of sunglasses resting in grass, dabbed over top with faded blue watercolor paint. Numerous doodles of such small memories.

Satoru continues flipping to look at your little illustrated photo album. Some of these drawings are of stuff he barely remembers talking about, like a cracked open piggy bank obviously referencing a story he told you in passing. Gojo doesn’t even remember why he brought it up, but you’ve immortalized it here in your sketchpad with pencils and ink.

The drawings only grow more detailed as he gets deeper into the book, and a proud smile stretches across Satoru’s face at your talent. Rapid sketches of buildings and passerby evolve into self portraits of yourself, and he thinks you look so captivating in all of them. Gojo takes note of the silly doodles of even himself in the margins of the paper. Him in his sunglasses, him wearing the flower crown you’d poorly put together, him surrounded by ice cream and candy and the plethora of sweets he so enjoys. His favorites are the inane drawings of you two together, tiny and inhabiting multiple corners of every page. Each one is a delightful surprise to spot.

Satoru turns the next page, and he’s sincerely taken aback. Drawings of eyes, and they all look alike. They’re so detailed, adorned with pretty lashes and shaded so beautifully. He doesn’t have to wonder long on whose eyes these are, the next page bursting with the color blue tells Gojo all he needs to know. He’s glad you’re not here to see his reddening face and the way his breath hitched. This page, the next few actually, are all dedicated to his eyes. They’re inked perfectly, some are at different angles, and you’ve managed to portray emotion into all of them. Satoru wonders if he could draw a picture of you and showcase the absolute adoration in your eyes the way you’ve done with his.

And it doesn’t stop there. Page after page, it’s all Satoru. Him sleeping with a mushed cheek against your chest, him drinking a soda, him looking out the window, him playing the game with Geto, when did you even draw these?

“Satoru?”

He quickly slams the book shut at your call, carefully placing it back on your nightstand and ushering himself from the room. There you are at the door, shaking the rain from your umbrella and leaving it on the mat near the entrance.

“There you are, love.,” you beam at his approaching figure, and Gojo squishes you in a warm embrace. “How was your day?”

Satoru kisses the crown of your head, and grins against your skin. He can’t wait to tell you all about today, maybe give you some more brilliant ideas to memorialize in your sketchbook.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

More childish Daryl because we all love his big little shit self and his little shit attitude

and more of Rick being a victim as well as a little piece of shit

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

There weren’t many things life that you were afraid of anymore besides dying. or your loved ones dying. Oh and every form of insect left on the planet.

“Daryl Dixon take that thing back outside and the fuck out of my house!” You yell in horror when your husband comes sprinting into the house with a large and exotic bug cupped in his hands, holding it out to you excitedly. “Look at it though!”

“Very, very nice my love… Uhh,” Your eyes dart nervously around. “Here! Put it in here for safe keeping” You grab a jar and push it towards Daryl, staying as far away from him as he would let you, which wasn’t very far. “He’s gon die in there” Daryl mumbled, shifting on his feet.

You sigh. “He won’t outside. Y’know, where he lives?”

“But I ain’t ever seen this bug ‘fore” Daryl pouted slightly.

“Daryl. Please.” You give a soft but stern look.

The man frowned, dropping his gaze down to his new friend as he walked him back out the door. “Fine.”

You sighed in relief watching the archers wings disappear behind the creaky slam of your front door, out onto the Alexandria streets to terrorize the community. But you didn’t know that part.

Over at Carol’s house, she lounges comfortably on her porch swing, a real good and captivating book in one hand, a cooling, untouched cup of coffee in the other. She’s so invested in the story that she doesn’t even feel Daryl’s presence behind her, totally not coaxing his new friend off his palm and onto her shoulder, watching as the strange bug crawled down her arm slowly.

At first she didn’t feel it, finally taking her first sip out the mug after hovering it for so long. When she moves to place the cup down, glints of iridescent purples and blues catches her eye, and she glances at her sleeve.

“Jesus! What the fuck!? What the fuck!?” She hollers, tossing her book and shooting to her feet, flailing to get the bug off of her. When she pauses to glance around, in search of the little pest so that she could squish the fucker, she finds it crawling on another, much larger pest. “When I get my hands on you, you are so dead” Carol fires daggers at Daryl, who holds the insect with a victorious smile. “Don’ threaten him”

“I’m threatening you. Also ‘him’?” Carol rolled her eyes, and moved further when Daryl took a few steps towards the porch. “I found him by the wall but Y/n ain’t let me keep it”

“I applaud her for dealing with you, now shoo. You’ve completely ruined my reading time” The woman sighs and sits back down on the swing, picking her book off the floor. “Where’s Rick?” Daryl quipped, turning and scanning the area. Carol watched him quietly, a smile tugging her lips. It felt like only yesterday that the hunter was nothing but a locked box, never opening up or showing any form of emotion. Now, he was practically bouncing off the walls, more of a rowdy kid than anything else. It made Carol a little sad, knowing that Daryl never got to chance to be the rambunctious kid he was born to be.

She watched as he walked away, bug in hand and wings on his back. There was a first time for everything, she supposes.

Of course, this saying is true, because this is the first time Daryl is really putting his ass on the line. He bit back the evil smile creeping on his face as his eyes landed on his victim, who shamelessly flirting with his wife, totally oblivious to everyone else around him. Rick was rambling and yapping to Michonne, not taking his eyes off hers for a second as he spoke.

She smiled and nodded, listening and digesting whatever he was saying, occasionally adding commentary of her own. It was a casual conversation, and Michonne had started to move to kiss Rick, him doing the same and shutting his eyes in anticipation-

“Fuck! Fuck! The fuck?!” He yelled, jerking away from his wife and reaching a hand to his back, patting aimlessly around for the strange crawling sensation on him. “What’s on me?!” Rick spun around, and Michonne screamed. “Oh hell no! Nope! Nope!” The woman backed away, and as she did she spotted Daryl, as did Rick.

“Dixon!” Rick’s voice rang out through the community, followed by heavy running feet mere seconds later.

Daryl cackled as he ran from Rick, taunting him and mocking the mans angry shouts and insults. Also threats.

“You are so fucking dead Daryl!” Rick yelled from behind him, trying to increase his speed to get closer behind Daryl, who had no reason being as fucking fast as he was. “Please don’ shoot meh officer!” Daryl fake cooed, laughing but it was cut short by Rick ultimately deciding to take a leap of faith, crashing right into the hunterman, who almost instantly tightened all his limbs around Rick.

The men grunted and squabbled in the middle of the street, yelling and screaming at each other. “Stop it you dicksucker tha’ hurts!” Daryl wailed and kicked at Rick, who was twisting his leg. “Dicksucker? Must be missin’ the countryside huh Dixon?” Rick grumbled, releasing the kicking limb and latching onto Daryl’s arm, punching it when holding it down didn’t work. “Ain’t nothin miss ‘bout it, except ya wasn’t there” The man grunted, bringing his other arm up and grabbing onto a fist full of Rick’s curly hair, pulling on the strands. The man let out a pained yell, reflexively reaching his hand up to pry Daryl’s hand off, but that just let his other arm free.

When Daryl had slung his arm around Rick’s neck, bicep already tightly wrapped and flexed around it, the familiar creaking of a door caught his attention, turning his head to take in the house that they were fighting in front of. Your house.

Rick gasped for air when Daryl dropped him, coughing and about to take a swing at him when he also turned his head, both males now being stared down by you. Daryl more than ever.

“When I told you to take the bug outside, I meant back to where you got it, not on a tour around the fucking community.” You spat, arms folded over your chest. Daryl hung his head embarassedly, heat rising to his cheeks at the scolding. “Sorry mama”

“And you,” You looked at Rick, “You need to stop further provoking him because look how it ends each time” Rick furrowed his brows, “But he came to me first!” Pointing at the archer next to him. “Rick I don’t give a damn if chicken or egg came to you first” You rolled your eyes. “But-“ “No. This? This is very much over. You? You are very much in trouble.” You cut Rick off, descending the short steps and tugging Daryl off the ground by his vest, pushing him to go up the porch and into the house. “You? I’ll be letting Michonne know to keep you attached to her hip. Let’s go, Grimes”

Once you promptly delivered Michonne her loose dog, you made your way back to your house to deal with your own, sighing when the door shut behind you. Your eyes flickered over to Daryl, who was nervously sat on the couch.

“M’really sorry” He mumbled when you moved to stand over him, hands on your hips. “I didn’t wanna put him back”

“Daryl, you can’t just go around harassing people with bugs.” You shake your head at him, biting down on the inside of your cheek when Daryl shamefully looked away, face turning a shade of red. “But it was funny”

You sigh, “For you. Daryl, baby, some people are really afraid of bugs. I’m some people. Those things freak me the fuck out” reaching your hand down to lift his head up, brushing hair out his face. There were hints of guilt written on it, and you smiled softly.

“Hey, nobody’s mad at you, okay? You just have to be a little more aware of the small things” You kissed his forehead, once, twice, thrice, still smiling down at his flushed face. “Mama loves you” You whisper, and it cracks a small smile on Daryl’s lips, heart doing somersaults. “Love ya too” You kiss his head one more time, giving him a final on his lips before standing straight again. “Now that that’s over, I’m making something I think you’ll like” Your voice fades into the kitchen, Daryl following you. “Let m’guess; steak” He joked, but blinked when he peered over your shoulder. “I remember a very skilled hunter once telling me that ‘deer asses are tha’ best’”

“They are, ‘nd tha’s ‘bout to be tha’ best fuckin’ steak of m’life” Daryl bumped his hip against yours, playful smile tugging his lips. “Alright now. Don’t get rowdy in my kitchen” You eye him from the side, bumping his hip back as you lit the stove, using makeshift oil to butter the pan. Daryl slid a hand around your waist, kissing your shoulder before dropping his head there, mumbling a tiny “Sorry mama” next to your ear. You can’t help the smile the spreads on your lips, placing just one more kiss to the top of Daryl’s head.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I think that ‘baby’ and ‘mama’ are like really cute for outside of the bedroom, it’s intimate while not being too explicit if that makes sense

me fighting my urge to explain how Daryls mommy kink spews much deeper than you guys think

each time i typed mama i kept imagining a furby saying it

anways your honor my babyboy is innocent

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Take my hand (we'll make it, I swear)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 3

Prompt: Mutual pining

Rated: G

CW: Steve getting vecna'd; Some violent imagery

Tags: Idiots in love; Fluff and angst

Notes: Based on this beautiful piece of art by @house-of-the-moving-image and that one "Steve gets vecna'd" brainworm I've had forever.

It's always different in the stories, Eddie thinks. When the heroes in the stories realize they're in love, it always comes as this big revelation. The sunlight will glisten off the fair lady's hair, or her eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky and the hero will suddenly realize that he is in love.

It wasn't like that for him. No dramatic moment, no sudden epiphany. It just sort of … snuck up on him over the past year, and when he noticed, it was too late. He had fallen, completely and irredeemably.

Then again, he is no hero. And Steve is most certainly not a fair lady.

He is still beautiful, of course, lying here in the soft, green grass, hair tousled by the breeze, golden highlights brought out by the setting sun. Eddie's jacket draped over him to fight off the chill.

He's asleep, finally, after what seems like ages, pulled under by the exhaustion of the last few days and that fucking Bon Jovi song blaring from his headphones on an endless repeat loop.

Eddie huffs, twists the daisy he has plucked between his fingers. If he strains his ears, he can just make out the words.

Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear…

Steve's fingers twitch in the grass and Eddie's gaze flies to his face, half expecting to find his eyes wide open and sightless, half expecting him to start floating again and fuck, what will he do, he can't do shit, please, God, he can't-

But Steve’s eyes are closed, his face relaxed. Eddie sighs in relief. Then, following a sudden impulse, he reaches out and tucks the daisy into Steve's hair.

He's no hero and he can't do anything to protect him, but he can make sure he rests while he has the chance, can make sure he has music and beauty and sunlight surrounding him. It's what he deserves.

He deserves so much more.

The harsh snap of the tape ending almost makes him jump out of his skin. Steve flinches awake with an adorable little snort, hand flying up to pull the headphones off. His eyes dart around wildly for a second or two before they land on Eddie and he sags back to the ground.

"Hey," he smiles, voice still sleep-slurred and hoarse. "Sorry, did I doze off?"

The flower is still in his hair.

Eddie snorts, pillows his arms on his knees so that he can hide behind them.

"Are you kiddin' me, dude? You can sleep all you want."

Steve hums vaguely and props himself up on one elbow, busies himself with opening the walkman and turning the tape.

"Feels wrong though," he mutters. "Y’know… just chilling here while the kids-"

"Stevie," Eddie says. Maybe it comes out a bit too harsh, because those pretty eyes blink up at him, confused and a little hurt. He groans.

"The kids are old enough," he then continues, more softly. "They have Wheeler and Buckley with them. Not to mention Supergirl. You don't have to-"

"-babysit them anymore, I know." Steve flops back into the grass, worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "I still feel useless, though."

They stay silent for a while. The wind is getting chillier, now that the sun is dipping behind the trees, and Eddie is starting to shiver in his flannel.

"Thank you, though," Steve mumbles. "For staying around, I appreciate it."

He sounds so small and lost and scared. Eddie plucks another flower so he won't have to look at his face. Hopes that Supergirl will tear Vecna's shrivelled black heart out through his ass and squish it under her shoe like a bug.

"Anything for you, Stevie," he says. Means it.

Steve blinks at him and quickly turns his head, but Eddie imagines he sees the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips.

"Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"I …" Steve watches the blades of grass glide through his fingers. "There's, um … something I've been meaning to tell you, but … I think I'm scared of what you'll say."

Eddie chuckles. "Oh, I already know."

Steve's hand freezes. "You do?"

"Absolutely, man," Eddie nods. "You're not being exactly subtle. There's no way the snack mix comes with that few pretzels, of course you're stuffing them in your face in the kitchen. I mean, be hone- ow!"

Steve has just punched his arm.

"It's not about the pretzels, you asshole," he grins, but then his face goes serious again. "It's… shit, I didn't want to tell you like this, I-"

"Then don't."

Steve's brow crinkles. "But-"

Eddie talks right over him. "You wait until this is over and you tell me when you think the time is right. I'll be there and I'll be waiting. Just like you. We're both gonna be there, okay?"

Steve huffs an exasperated laugh and scrubs a hand down his face, pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he yawns.

"Promise?" His eyes are very bright.

Eddie nods, smiles so wide that his mouth hurts with it.

"Of course. Now go back to sleep, dumbass."

Steve doesn’t protest as he pushes the headphones back over his ears and presses play, just settles back under Eddie's jacket and lets his eyes slip shut. Eddie listens to the opening chords of the song for what must be the thousandth time and wonders if he should take Steve's hand and promise that they'll make it.

Instead, he tucks the second flower into Steve’s hair and prays that it'll be okay.

All of my holiday drabbles

Part 2

[sirfrogsworth]

I was watching these hilarious videos from Smac McCreanor where she does interpretive dance alongside hydraulic press videos.

They are wonderful. You can find many more on the platform of your choice.

Her videos became so popular that she ended up buying her own hydraulic press and so now she just has this industrial equipment in the corner of her apartment.

And I just love all of the weird ways the internet has allowed people to make a living.

But then a little bug of curiosity entered my brain. I started wondering, what is the most powerful hydraulic press in the world?

There are a couple that range from 60,000 to 80,000 tons of pressing power. These giant presses are put in large pits and are 10 stories tall. This is only the top section above the pit.

If you could invert this press, it could lift an aircraft carrier.

These building-sized presses are mostly used to squish large aviation parts. And they can forge giant parts with millimeter precision. Which is pretty neat.

Initially, I was happy that I learned about a cool thing.

But then I grew sad.

Because all anyone will ever use these giant presses for is making industrial parts. No one is ever going to place an avocado or a bunch of Gummi Bears underneath to see what happens.

And that is another tragedy of capitalism.

[bottlesofrouge]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part five.

word count: 12.6K

warnings: talks of a past physically abusive relationship, smut (finaalllyyy!!!), nsfr!

27 JULY 2018

harry wakes up to lynn sitting on the arm of the couch. her fingers dance along his arm as his name falls from her lips in quiet whispers. it’s still dark outside, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, struggling to remember just exactly where he is. 

silas and lynn had gone into the bedroom shortly after dinner. he wasn’t really sure why he was expecting silas to take the couch, but when the click of the lock echoed through the quiet condo, harry knew that he was stuck with the short end of the stick. 

there were no goodnights said and no sleepy smiles from lynn. harry sat in the dark for what felt like hours, listening to the muffled laughter coming from behind the bedroom door while he tried to swallow down the ugly, burning jealousy that came bubbling up in his throat.

“harry,” she whispers again. her touch moves from his arms to his hair. “are you awake?”

“yeah,” he hums. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

“i can’t fall asleep,” she says. “not when i don’t know if you’re alright.”

“why wouldn’t i be alright?” he can barely make out anything in the dark. the only source of light was the dim glow of the moon coming in through an uncovered window. it doesn’t do much, but it illuminates her face enough for him to see the way it’s etched with worry.

“the same reason i can’t sleep unless all of the doors are locked,” she doesn’t elaborate any further, and harry’s not really sure what she means by that. “i’m sorry for waking you. couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

“do you wanna lay out here with me?” she only blinks at him. “you don’t have to, but i think you’d be able to feel if i was breathing or not.”

“are you sure?” 

“c’mere,” he presses himself further into the couch, and lifts the blanket for her to slide under. harry’s shocked a little when she actually does.

it’s uncomfortable at first. he lays there like a board, arms straight down at his sides until lynn reaches behind for his hand. he thinks she’s giving him the key to the front door, but instead she presses his palm to her stomach just like he had done the night before. 

it really was a complete accident. harry was so embarrassed to open his eyes and find himself wrapped around her the way he was. lynn was still sleeping when he woke up. she never mentioned it, and he had hoped that maybe she never noticed. he could not have been more wrong.

she doesn’t say anything when she does it, so instead of overthinking the situation and letting it keep him up until the sun rises, he leans into it. harry molds his body to lynn’s, letting his fingers stretch across her tummy just like she wanted them to. their legs are crossed at the ankles, and harry can’t help it when he lets his lips press right where her neck meets her shoulder. he half expects her to push him away, but she only sighs, falling asleep mere seconds later.

✮✮✮

“good morning, cuddle bugs,” harry doesn’t wake up again until silas is practically whisper singing right into his ear. the man’s standing over the two of them, a mug of coffee in each hand and a wide grin on his face.

when harry blinks enough to get the sleep out of his eyes, he sees that lynn’s got her cheek squished against his chest and her arm thrown around his torso. both of her legs are in between his and she had stolen their previously shared blanket and selfishly wrapped herself up in it. “were my cuddles not good enough for you, lynn?”

“oh my god, shut up, silas,” lynn groans, letting herself lean into harry even more. “and close the curtains while you’re up. m’so tired.”

silas does as he’s told before coming back over to harry to hand him one of the mugs he was holding. he sits down in the recliner next to them without saying a word, and turns on some local news station for the two to watch.

the volume’s on low, and silas is too focused on whatever stories that are running that he doesn’t try to engage in any conversation. he is so incredibly thankful for it, too. he wasn’t exactly sure what the other had to say about walking out of the bedroom to find his best friend wrapped around him. he wasn’t sure what lynn has told silas about them, but she surely had to have mentioned the fact that he has been treating her so terribly for the last two months.

harry’s free hand absentmindedly travels to lynn’s hair, fingers gently scratching her scalp as quiet, appreciative hums leave her mouth. he can’t really tell if she’s just in and out of sleep or if she’s fully awake, but he doesn’t care as long as he got lynn like this. he’d be stupid not to wrap himself up in everything that she was willing to give him. after all, it’d all go away as soon as they got back to new york.

part of him couldn’t wait to get home, even though he knew that going home meant he would have to face his parents. he also knew that it meant he would be getting back to his new routine. ever since he stopped sharing his days with an entire bottle of hard liquor, waking up has never felt so good.

he was productive. incredibly productive, actually. during the first week, he got around to turning his office into a small art studio. harry had purchased easels and canvases and nearly an entire display of oil paints. of course he put the transactions on john’s credit card. he thought of it as reparations for his shitty childhood, but if his dad asked, he would say it was a parting gift for his frat.

the other part of him wanted to be anywhere but home because home meant no more waking up to lynn and no more soft kisses and warm touches. home meant morning coffee alone and silence so loud that if he closed his eyes hard enough, he would swear he could hear it screaming.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

and honestly, the first few days wouldn’t be too bad. harry thinks he’d use the time to clear his head. the forced proximity had him thinking (and feeling) so many confusing things when it came to lynn. he knew that once they were apart for a little while, they’d all go away. maybe the two would even go back to hating each other. 

they’d see each other once a week, maybe twice if they were feeling crazy, and harry would only be brutally reminded of just how alone he actually was. the words would echo in his head like they always did. just like the ticking of a clock.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

maybe it’s his fault for giving himself away so easily. there are so many people who know absolutely nothing about him except for what gets him going in bed, and normally, that fact didn’t bother him one bit. he likes feeling good and making other people feel good, and he loves the fact that he can participate in both of those activities with no strings attached.

however, on the rare days like today, the mere thought of it makes harry want to scratch the skin off his body and start fresh. he wants to be someone new. someone who is loved, and someone that people actually want to know.

and really, that’s where this whole thing stems from. the constant craving for something that is so unattainable for him. he just wants to be known. 

harry itches for the day that someone knows just how much he loves ballet and theater. they’ll know he spent the first three years of high school dedicating his life to the drama club, spending afternoon after afternoon designing and painting sets. those long afternoons would soon turn into rehearsing lines in the passenger seat of oliver’s car, nothing but a flashlight on one of their phones illuminating the words on their scripts.

they’ll know he stopped because of how his dad felt about it. they’ll learn all about his senior year football stint, and maybe he’d also be inclined to tell them that he did it just to please him, but even then, john never went to a single game.

“harry,” silas’s leaning forward to nudge harry with his hand. “did you hear me?”

“no,” he admits. “what did you say?”

“i asked if you were hungry. we’re supposed to meet everyone for breakfast in ten.”

“i’m okay,” harry hums. his eyes fall to lynn who’s now created a small wet spot on his shirt with her drool. “you go. she’s been having a hard time sleeping.” 

“she has for years,” silas responds. harry isn’t sure if he’s just stating a fact or if he’s trying to make sure he’s aware that he knows lynn in ways that harry never will. “i’ve never seen her out like this though. it’s weird.”

when silas decides to take harry up on his offer, he stands up, stretches, and then puts his shoes on before walking out of the door. it slams a little bit behind him, and lynn jolts at the sound. her head flies up, and she’s looking at harry with wide eyes and parted lips.

“just silas, honey,” his knuckles drag across the highest point of her cheek. “you can go back to sleep for a bit.”

✮✮✮

silas: it’s amelia day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

silas: you better be awake when i get back

silas: first round is on you btw consider it your apology for having to look at you and harry all morning #YUCK

lynn shuts her phone off and peers up at harry to make sure he wasn’t reading over her shoulder. (that would be so humiliating.) she finds him fast asleep underneath her. his head is tilted back, resting on a pillow that was propped up on the arm of the couch. his lips are parted, and she thinks that if she’s quiet enough she could hear tiny snores fall from them. god, he is so cute.

“harry,” she gently shakes him, and when he opens his eyes and blinks a few long blinks like he’s trying to gather his surroundings, she can’t help but laugh. “good morning, sunshine.”

“what time is it?” he rasps out around a yawn.

“nearly noon.” lynn sits up so harry can stretch and sit up properly. “it’s amelia day, so we have to leave soon. get ready, and i’ll make you something to eat. my treat for sharing this uncomfortable thing with me all night.”

lynn only makes them a plate of leftovers that consists of stuff she found in various take out boxes in the refrigerator. it wasn’t anything crazy; yet, it takes nearly fifteen minutes before she has it all set out on the breakfast bar. she shouldn't be blamed though. it’s not her fault that she couldn’t stop thinking about last night. 

it wasn’t until silas was knocked out next to her that she realized harry was out in the living room all alone. she didn’t mean to exclude him. it kind of just happened, and she felt so guilty for it. she couldn’t stop wondering just how upset harry would be with her in the morning, and soon after, all of the overthinking turned into wondering if harry was okay.

honestly, she knew deep down there was no reason for him not to be, but that didn’t stop her from going out and checking. that’s all she meant to do, really. she planned on making sure he was alive and well and then she would climb back into bed with silas, but when he made room for her on the couch, lynn couldn’t say no.

she missed sleeping next to him.

it was stupid. they had only been on good terms for a few days, but lynn couldn’t imagine ever falling asleep without him pressed against her again. she thought that maybe it was just the simple fact that she was next to someone that had her sleeping so well, but no. it was harry.

silas has probably spent hundreds of hours helping her fall asleep. nearly every time he’s in town, he sits next to her in bed and runs his fingers through her hair until she’s napping. lynn really did appreciate it so much. she knew she would never get those precious naps in without him, but that was just it. they were always a quick little nap, never lasting more than an hour.

with harry, it was so different. all he had to do was be in the same room as her and she’d be out for hours. it was silly, and all in her mind. of course she knew that, it’s just… she doesn’t really want it to end.

harry doesn’t talk until the two of them are sharing an uber to the town square. he’s exhausted. lynn knows that, and she feels so shitty for having him take the couch. he was doing her a favor being there. the least she could do was give him the bed.

“it’s amelia’s birthday?” his voice is quiet when he asks, like the uber driver hearing would give away the faux relationship.

“no,” she laughs a little, not because of him, but because of what amelia day actually is. “silas pays amelia to watch jane while the adults go out for a few drinks.”

“is it the same day every year?”

lynn shakes her head, “just whenever silas feels like it. it’s usually just the two of us, and he convinces her when he thinks i’ve burnt myself out watching them.”

harry only hums and looks out the window.

lynn sits at the bar, nursing her third dirty martini as she watches silas and harry play a game of darts. silas was honestly great at the game. never once has he let lynn win. however, when harry threw his first dart, she realized that today might be the day her dreams of silas losing come true.

she’s been dreaming of the day ever since she had played against silas for the first time at a bar in her college town. he was visiting her for spring break. nearly the entire school had gone further south to a beach, so they pretty much had the bar to themselves. they played forty seven games that week, and lynn had only been close to winning once.

so, she offers to buy harry a shot if he wins, and when he says he’d rather have a kiss, she says he can have that, too.

she watches as harry goes to throw his dart. he closes one of his eyes and the tip of his tongue sticks out a little at the corner of his mouth every time he brings his hand up to aim. normally, she would’ve poked a little fun because he looked crazy, but she was a couple drinks in and she couldn’t help but find everything harry did to be at least a little bit attractive.

harry throws the winning dart, and lynn already has a shot of don julio waiting for him. she holds the little glass in between her fingers and the lime wedge in between her lips as she moves over to the two guys. a little pool of anxiety fills her stomach when she thinks about what exactly she’s doing. the lime placement seemed like a good idea after she had finished her third drink, but when she sees silas’s face, she thinks that maybe she was wrong.

the worry is only there for a second because harry tips the shot back, and then presses his mouth to hers and takes the wedge in between his teeth. the whole thing has her skin burning all the way from her toes up to her ears, but she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about it because as soon as he’s done, he’s kissing her.

their kisses are messy and wet, and lynn can taste the lime sitting on his lips and the tequila coating his mouth. his mouth is practically devouring hers in a way that has her chest aching and her fingertips tingling. there’s no way that the vodka and olive juice she had been drinking tasted as good as he’s making it seem. 

harry pulls away when silas clears his throat and lynn can’t even work up enough nerve to look over at him. the blush on her cheeks. her heart skipping beats in her chest. the way she feels so giddy. god, it was like she was a teenager again.

“i think we should get another drink before we head back,” silas breaks the silence first.

harry agrees and the two of them follow silas over to the bar. harry’s got his arm around lynn’s back, and his hand rests on her waist. he orders his drink and her dirty martini while she pretends not to feel the way his thumb is sliding against the small sliver of skin poking out between her top and skirt.

lynn sits on a bar stool next to kathleen when her fourth dirty martini is placed in front of her. harry keeps his arm draped around the back of her chair, chatting to silas about their last game. silas claims harry cheated, but harry insists that silas is just a sore loser. 

“are you three enjoying your vacation,” lynn hears her dad’s voice from down the bar, and makes no move to respond. instead, she brings her glass up to her lips and takes a big sip.

“i am,” harry turns his attention to the older man, offering him a small smile. “thank you for having me. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s the least i can do since you’ve been putting up with my daughter. she can be a lot to handle sometimes.” 

her dad laughs, and lynn can’t help the rage that’s bubbling up in her chest. putting up with my daughter? how would he know what putting up with lynn was like? peter was only around for half of her life, and even then, they’ve only shared a few hundred words with each other, if that. the man barely fucking knew her.

“it’s quite the opposite,” she feels harry moving his hand from the chair to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his chest. “really, lynn puts up with me.”

“good to know, but i was referring to jane,” he brings his bottle to his lips. “she has so much energy, and at my age…”

lynn doesn’t really care what else her father has to say, so she turns her attention to the bartender and orders herself one more. it would probably end up being a mistake because she could already feel her head going all fuzzy. (and that was obvious a drink ago when she made out with harry in the back corner of the bar.) but, she felt like she needed it in order to stomach being around her parents for a second longer.

“you’re sure you need another?” kathleen’s speaking to her. “don’t want to have a repeat of the last time where you didn’t even make it to dinner.”

lynn decides to pretend like she didn’t hear, and insteads thanks the bartender when he slides the glass in front of her. she didn’t come to dinner the night her mother is referring to because of something more than a little too much to drink, and she thinks that if she lets herself think about it for a minute longer, she’d start crying so hard that she might end up coughing up a lung.

aunt cecilia moves from the other side of her father to sit next to silas. she strikes up a conversation with the two boys, and lynn can’t make the buzzing in her brain quiet down enough to focus on what they’re saying. it is so unfair that being around her mother has the ability to ruin what was supposed to be a fun day with her friends.

lynn gets why silas invited her parents. really, she does. just because they treated her so poorly, doesn’t mean they treated everyone else the same. that was obvious when silas came home from his freshman year of college to all of his stuff sitting on the front lawn of his parents’ house. peter and kathy had moved every discarded item of his into the guest room within the day, and silas claimed it as his own until he moved out for good two years later.

“y’alright, honey?” harry’s voice is so low and breathy. it tickles her ear enough to make her laugh, and he offers her a warm smile at the sound. “there we go.”

his lips tenderly press against her forehead and then he’s leaning back to look at her, worry deep in his eyes. she loves when harry’s soft like this, even if she can see silas rolling his eyes at the two of them in her peripheral.

“i miss your last boyfriend,” lynn’s brought out of her trance by kathleen’s voice. “he never touched you like this in front of us. it’s just disrespectful.”

lynn thinks that she’s misheard her mom at first, but when harry’s hands fall from her, she knows he’s heard it, too. silas and aunt cece are deep in conversation, missing what kathleen had just said, and harry’s looking at her with a frown on his lips. his eyes are pleading with hers, like he’s trying to apologize for something that isn’t even his fault. 

“i’m sorry, ms. kathy. i didn’t eve-”

“yeah, well,” lynn clears her throat. “jaxson used to hit me when we weren’t in front of you guys.”

“what?”

she knows that she shouldn’t have said it, especially not here. lynn’s just so upset and angry and sad, and all she wanted to do was make kathleen feel the way she has been making her feel since the day she was born. like a complete and utter failure.

“i couldn’t make it to dinner last time because my mouth was bleeding so bad,” her voice is quiet, yet her confession draws the attention from the rest of the group. “not because of one too many drinks.”

it was definitely the five dirty martinis that had her spilling the secret she’s held on to the tightest, but it’s out now and so were the tears that came flooding from her eyes. 

“why didn’t you tell us?” her mom has tears of her own on her cheeks, and it only makes lynn roll her eyes. kathleen never really cared about her, and she wasn’t about to start letting her now.

“don’t you see how you treat me? of course i didn’t come to you. nothing i ever do is worth a second of your time,” lynn feels so incredibly vulnerable as she speaks. she half expects kathleen to tell her to grow up, and the other half expects her to get on her hands and knees and apologize profusely for being such a shit mother.

she does neither. instead her eyes fall on silas and aunt cece, a look of realization spreading across her face. “you two knew.”

when lynn showed up on her aunts’ doorstep after a particularly rough fight with her ex, aunt cece helped put her back together again and let her move in for a few months. they hid it from peter and kathleen, per lynn’s request, and when jane was born, she went home. the three of them never really spoke about it, but lynn thinks she wouldn’t be standing here right now if it wasn’t for aunt cece and aunt rosie.

“this is exactly what i fucking mean,” she stands up from her stool, using harry to steady herself, and then she begs him to please, please take her back to the condo.

and he does. harry doesn’t say anything the entire uber ride back. instead, he holds her hand in his lap and wipes under her nose with the sleeve of his shirt when he’s had enough of her loud sniffing.

“i could’ve found a tissue,” her voice is so scratchy it hurts when she speaks.

“but you didn’t,” harry counters. “‘was kind of grossing me out if i’m being honest.”

“heeeeey,” her hands gently shove his shoulders as she laughs under her breath. it’s quiet for a second, and she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from his. it’s like she can feel the pity from his eyes seeping into her own, and it makes her a little sad. “please don’t look at me like that.”

harry looks away and clears his throat, and lynn feels so incredibly guilty for even saying anything, “i don’t like when people pity me. i didn’t mean…”

“i know you didn’t mean to tell me, but knowing now helps me understand you better.” he’s running his forefinger along the creases in her palm. “and i don’t mean to make you feel like i pity you. i just… you didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“okay,” she offers him a warm smile. “i was going to tell you, but i was nervous that i’d scare you away.”

“you could never scare me away.”

“why’s that? am i your only friend?” lynn only means it in a teasing way, but the way harry’s smile drops says that she’s hit the nail on the head. 

“yeah,” his face draws together when he speaks. “um, i don’t know. there’s not really anyone besides you. sorry if that’s weird or makes you uncomfortable. i’m not the best at making friends.”

“s’not weird. i was only joking, harry. i didn’t mean-”

“you don’t have to apologize,” his eyes fall to his lap, and then he looks back up to her. “that’s not why you can’t scare me away. i just… i like having you around, lynn. i don’t want that to change once we go home.”

his words make her cheeks warm, “it won’t. i like having you around, too.” and when that doesn’t feel like enough, “i’m really glad you came, harry.”

29 JULY 2018

when harry wakes up, the bed is empty and the condo is quiet. there’s no echoes of an overworked coffee pot and no hushed whispers bouncing off the walls. his phone reads 11:53am, and there is nothing but a singular text from lynn sitting in his notification center.

getting breakfast with si & then going to the beach. join us when you’re awake :)

harry gets out of bed and heads for the shower to wash the sleep off of his face (and also the sweat off of his body). he’s spent the last two nights wrapped up with lynn in the bed while silas took the couch. the girl loved her blankets, and being next to her sometimes made him feel like he was next to a furnace. 

he decides against joining the two when he’s on his second lather of shampoo. after lynn had talked about her last relationship at the bar, the three have practically been conjoined at the hip doing pretty much everything together. even at the family dinners, they sat at the end of the table next to jane and amelia to keep kathleen, or anyone else, from bringing it up.

as soon as harry heard what lynn said, he wanted to throw up. he felt sick the entire uber drive back, and even worse when they sat on the couch next to one another and she told him about the time she had brought him here. lynn was so incredibly kind, and the thought of anyone hurting her was just so devastating.

but, he did as she asked, and tried acting like looking at her didn’t make his chest feel like it was caving in. (because it did.) instead, he offered her kisses and soft touches every time the thoughts got to be a little too much. lynn deserved to feel loved and appreciated, and he was going to make sure she never forgot that.

harry: i think i’ll spend some time with your sisters. have fun with silas

her response comes through almost immediately.

lynn: they’d loooove that!!! couldn’t stop talking about you at breakfast

lynn: i’ll miss you today :(

the grin that spreads across harry’s face when he reads the message is embarrassing. he never really understood what people meant when they said ‘giggling and kicking my feet’, but when he catches his reflection in the mirror, he gets it.

jane and amelia are waiting for him on the front porch of their condo, and as soon as he’s in sight, the little girl runs to him like she’s an olympian sprinter. she giggles as she does, and harry soaks up every last one because he knows there will be a time when he is nothing but a distant memory for her.

the three of them walk to an ice cream parlor that harry has been dying to go to since the first day they arrived. the outside was painted a bright pink and had mismatched patio furniture sitting out in front of it. he always found these ice cream shops to be the best, and preferred them over the lousy chains.

harry orders his usual mint chip and jane her chocolate chip, and then he tells amelia to get whatever she wants. it was his treat today, even though the two girls were the ones to bring up the idea to go. the older sister decides on a plain strawberry shake, and once it’s all paid, they sit at one of the tables outside.

“don’t forget your napkin,” he reminds jane. “i don’t want to return you all covered in sugar.”

the little girl laughs, and wipes awaythe river of melted vanilla ice cream flowing down her chin, “s’okay. mom says it’s bath night anyway.”

harry listens as jane then goes into a play by play of her day. if one singular detail was wrong, she’d have to pause, reset the scene, and then she could continue. it starts with her saying she chose a red shirt to wear, but actually it was more orange now that she’s thinking about it. then, it’s what she ate for breakfast. jane realizes midway through that she had actually eaten four apple slices instead of the five she said previously because silas had taken one from her plate. the whole thing is painful, but harry sits through every second of it with a smile on his face. 

“you alright, amelia?” harry asks once jane has quieted down and turned her attention back to her ice cream. “you’ve been quiet.”

“does lynn ever talk about her last boyfriend?"

he swallows. "yeah. she talks about him sometimes. why?”

“he was mean to me,” amelia states. “and i thought you’d be the same.”

“melia, i would never-”

“i know. i know,” amelia’s quick to cut him off. “that was obvious when jane hit you with that ball.”

jane’s shoulders drop at her sister’s words, “i’m still very sorry, harry.”

“i know you are, janey,” his hand squeezes her little arm from across the table. “i already told you to stop worrying about.”

“i feel bad for being so rude to you,” amelia admits. “and for trying to get lynn to break up with you.”

“you what?”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t-” the girl’s stumbling over her words like she can’t get them out fast enough when harry interrupts her with a laugh. really, he doesn’t mean to, but the thought of amelia trying to end a relationship that wasn’t even real to begin had him giggling.

"no need to be sorry," he says. "if i saw my sister in a bad relationship, i'd probably act the exact same. probably even worse if i’m being honest.”

“a man who grew up with girls,” amelia nods her head slowly before sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed. “makes sense.”

“now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s a compliment! ugh, you’re so old.”

harry laughs at the girls in front of him, a feeling of genuine happiness washing over him. maybe he was planning too far ahead, but he can't help but think that he actually does want to be a dad. 

“hurry up and finish your ice cream,” he says. “i think there’s a souvenir shop we can go to just a few stores up the street.”

the three don’t end up going back until dinner time. the two girls walk in front of him, each swinging their shopping bags at each other for no other reason than to be annoying. he didn’t really mean to spend a hundred dollars on the two, but he did. jane always looked up at him with big round eyes and he could never say no.

they had passed a boutique with a blue dress hanging in the window, and amelia made a comment about it matching the shade of lynn’s eyes. she was right. it was printed with this floral pattern and had ruffles at the sleeves. harry couldn’t stop thinking about just how pretty lynn would look in it, and that’s how he ended up with a bag of his own.

maybe it was pushing the boundaries of their friendship a little too far, but he really didn’t care. harry thinks it would be a crime for that dress to belong to anyone besides lynn.

aunt cece is the one who opens the door when jane knocks, and to his surprise, she invites him in to enjoy the dinner that she had prepared. he’s about to say no when she lets him know that lynn and silas had gone into town for an early dinner of their own before he had to go to the airport, so he changes his mind and joins the two aunts in the kitchen.

harry sits at the table while the two shared red wine out of a singular glass along with what seemed like a million kisses. rosie rested herself against cece’s back as she finished transferring the meal to serving dishes. she’d whisper things to the other in tones so quiet harry couldn’t make out the words, but each time aunt cece’s face would flush and she’d playfully push the other woman away.

he hopes he gets a love as pure as theirs when he’s older.

“what’s in the bag?” aunt rosie joins him at the table. 

“it’s nothing really,” harry can feel his cheeks grow warm and he does his best to avoid the woman’s stare. 

“oh come on, you’re blushing all the way to your neck. what is it? we’re very big on sex positivity, so-”

“oh my god. it’s a dress. a normal dress,” harry can’t listen to it a second longer. his finger pulls the collar of his shirt away from his neck. god, why was it so hot it here? 

“aww,” aunt rosie coos at him, peaking into the brown paper bag. “it looks gorgeous, harry.”

he hums. “it reminded me of her.”

“you should take her to that restaurant she was talking about this morning tomorrow. give her a chance to wear it,” aunt cece says from the kitchen, and rosie seconds the idea.

“i overslept today, so i don’t really know which one you’re talking about.”

“hmm,” the woman in the kitchen has her hand on her hip and her face in her hands. “i’m forgetting the name.”

“latitudes,” kathleen’s voice comes from the doorway. “that’s the restaurant.”

harry can tell by her demeanor that she’s trying to be nice, so he offers her a warm smile before thanking her.

dinner isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. he imagined it being incredibly awkward because of what had happened a few days prior, but surprisingly it’s not. he’s not really sure what was said or what happened after he had left with lynn, but he suspects it was something eye opening by the way kathleen is acting.

when gets back to his condo, he finds lynn sitting on the living room floor with at least twenty photobooks sprawled around her. there’s a half full bottle of wine on the side table, and an empty glass seated at her feet. he wasn’t really sure where she kept getting so much wine. they had only purchased three bottles.

“hey,” he’s kicking his shoes off by the door.

“hey,” she doesn’t look up. her eyes are too focused on some photos that she’s holding in her lap, and he takes the opportunity to slip the boutique bag into one of his drawers.

harry changes into his pajamas and then gets himself a glass from the kitchen. with a deep breath, he moves to the living room and sits next to her on the ground. “can i join you?”

“you don’t have to ask,” lynn reaches for the bottle before filling both of their glasses and setting it back down. she offers him a smile, “such a silly question, harry.”

“did you and silas have a good day?”

“the best,” she says with a grin on her face. harry can’t help the jealousy that starts burning in his chest. he wonders if she says the same when silas asks about him. “we found all of these photobooks. what about you? were the girls good?”

“so good,” he replies. “we got ice cream, and had a little shopping trip.”

“i bet they had so much fun,” she takes her eyes away from the photo book to look up at him. her mouth opens and she pauses, and then, “i missed you today.”

they sit next to each other as lynn opens up a fresh book. it was full of photos from when she was only a kid. there were so many pictures of her in the summertime, lounging around a swimming pool wearing rugrats themed swimmies and eating ice cream, and there were even more of her hanging from the monkey bars in playgrounds and posing cutely in flower fields. his favorites were the ones of her standing behind a mixing bowl with a monogrammed apron tied around her waist.

as she turns the pages, the pictures turn from summer to fall and it goes from wide toothy smiles soaking up the sun rays to close lipped grins at school events. there were photos of her at chorus concerts and class parties and some of her sitting with her arms around her friends in the school cafeteria.

there’s a woman who appears in quite a few of the photos, not enough that he would say she was in almost all of them, but enough that harry recognizes her presence. she looked nothing like lynn or any of her family members. her skin was tan and she had long dark hair with matching dark eyes. she wore red lipstick in a lot of the photos, and every time she did, baby lynn had a matching red lip print stamped on the side of her cheek.

“who’s that?” harry decides to ask when she pulls out a picture from the plastic sleeve. it was of the woman hugging her tight while lynn held up a little certificate indicating she won some award.

“she was my au pair,” lynn traces the corners of the picture as she brings it closer to her face.

“the one your dad had an affair with?”

lynn shakes her head. “the one after. elena,” she clarifies. i spent most of my childhood with her.”

“yeah? it looks like she loved you an awful lot.”

“y’know like that feeling that you get when you think of your mom?” she asks. “i get that when i think of her. she was wonderful, harry.”

“do you still talk to her?”

“no, i think my mom stopped hiring her when amelia was two,” her voice is thick when she speaks, and harry can see the glassiness in her eyes when she looks over to pass him the photo. “i still use that recipe in my bakery today. i wish she could see it.”

harry looks at the photo and can’t stop the smile from growing on his lips. little lynn was grinning so wide, her smile nearly went from ear to ear. the certificate was proudly displayed in her hands with a large FIRST PLACE written across the top. elena had her arms wrapped around her body so tightly, you could see the imprints of her fingertips in little lynn’s flesh. his fingers flip the photo over, and his eyes scan the words written on the back.

e. adams, 1998

“you’re what?” harry speaks. “24? 25?”

“i’m 27,” the girl laughs when she sees harry’s face. “what? is 24 too young for you?”

“i’m 21, lynn,” he deadpans. “freshly, too. my birthday’s in february.”

“oh god,” her wine glass nearly tips over when she turns to face him, and harry wraps his fingers around the stem to catch it. 

neither of them speak for a moment. her eyes are scanning over his face like she’s not really sure what to say. both of them had just assumed they were each other’s age. 

“is that,” harry pauses. “does that bother you?”

lynn’s bottom lip goes between her teeth before she sighs, “i mean, it’s all pretend, isn’t it?”

harry wants to say that it doesn’t feel all pretend when lynn’s got his mouth pressed to his. or when they’re alone and her fingers rub every ounce of stress from his body. or when they’re in bed every night, pressed so closely together that harry can feel the way her heart beats against his own.

instead, he only smiles. “yeah, i guess it really doesn’t matter.”

they each finish their glass of wine, and harry’s quick to pour them the rest of whatever’s left in the bottle. honestly, she was right. what they were doing was supposed to be pretend. it was his fault for letting parts of it get too real. 

maybe lynn didn’t need to know that some of his family disowned him because of his queerness. she also probably didn’t need to hear harry’s drunken confession about him being a friendless loser, and she definitely could’ve gone without seeing him sleeping with someone else.

he takes another large gulp of wine when the realization hits. he likes that she knows those things about him.

“evelyn,” her voice is soft as it pulls him from his thoughts.

“hm?”

“i know you saw it,” she points to the discarded photo on the ground between them. harry was so focused on the bolded 1998, he didn’t even notice the tiny e that preceded it. 

“evelyn,” the intensity of his voice matches her, and as soon as the words leave his lips, her eye’s fill with tears. “oh, don’t cry.”

“they’re good tears,” she breathes. “promise.”

his hand cradles her face and tucks her hair behind her ear so it doesn’t get all sticky from the now falling tears. the way she looks up at him feels so real to harry, and it makes his chest grow tight. he didn’t know how he’d be able to walk away from all of this unscathed, but at least he had her now. he’d be stupid not to soak up everything she wanted to give him.

“it’s a pretty name,” he’s nearly whispering now. “fits you.”

“it was my grandmother’s,” she chews on her lips. “she was lovely, harry.”

“she sure seems like it,” her head feels heavy in his hand like she’s relying on him to hold it upright for her. “why’d you change it?”

“jaxson ruined it for me, and hearing it was a lot,” she sighs and her eyes squeeze shut. “it’s stupid i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid, blondie,” she looks up at him like she doesn’t necessarily believe him, and harry thinks that if he didn’t find out that she was twenty fucking seven years old minutes prior, he’d kiss her. “not stupid at all.”

really, he still wants to. harry wants to kiss her so hard that she forgets that goddamn loser that made her own name sound unbearable to her. the thought just makes him so incredibly angry. he could kill him.

“hearing it used to make my stomach churn,” she admits.

“it doesn’t anymore?”

her head shakes, “no. at least not when it comes from you.”

“i can call you evelyn if that’s something you want,” lynn sits up when he offers, straightening herself so she’s no longer leaning into his touch. he instantly misses the weight of her.

“yeah, i mean if it’s not too much of an ask. and maybe not in front of my family? it’s been forever since anyone’s called me that. i just- haven’t been able to recognize myself in the mirror since i started going by lynn.” she laughs lightly, but it just sounds sad at this point. “sorry, i think i’ve had too much wine.”

“yeah, i can do that,” harry hums, and he can’t help it when he reaches for her hand. his finger trails across the back of her knuckles. “it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, evelyn?”

30 JULY 2018

harry is absolutely gnawing the fuck out of the sides of his fingers while he waits for lynn to get out of the shower. as soon as she went in (for the third time because she kept forgetting things), he had laid out the dress neatly on the bed with a necklace that kathleen had slipped him at breakfast. she had said that it was lynn’s grandmother’s.

he wasn’t really sure if this whole thing was crossing the line of their fake dating arrangement. they’d be going for no other reason than to spend some time together, but really, friends spend time together all the time. silas and lynn just had dinner last night.

but did silas buy her a dress for it?

whatever. it was too late to take it all back now. he hears the water shut off, and harry knows he’ll see how she really feels about it soon. he was going to be sick.

the sound of the door knob twisting echoes through the quiet room, and then, “harry?”

“yeah?” he sounded so fucking stupid.

“what’s all this?”

“um, a dress?”

lynn moves into the doorway of the bedroom to look at him. she’s wearing a robe around her body and a towel in her hair. “obviously. where did it come from?”

“a boutique,” he replies, and she raises her eyebrow. “i bought it for you yesterday. with amelia and jane.”

“you bought me that?” her voice is quieter than before, and she no longer has the teasing smile that was sitting on her lips just a moment ago.

“yeah,” why did he feel so shy? “if you don’t like it, i kept the receipt-”

“don’t like it? harry, i love it. it’s gorgeous.”

“good,” he sighs. “i thought so, too.”

lynn doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t move from her spot in the doorway either. she’s got the softest smile on her face, and she’s looking at him like she’s not really sure what she wants to do next.

“well, go put it on,” he’s moving in her direction to get to the shower. “you don’t want to miss our latitudes reservations, do you?”

“no way!” she shrieks, and when harry follows it with a corny little ‘yes way’, she hugs him around his neck so tightly, her feet aren’t even touching the ground. “thank you. thank you. thank you.” her words are being whispered against the skin of the crook of his neck. 

“it was nothing, really.”

“you always say that,” lynn leans away from him, still keeping her arms around his neck. 

“i just like seeing you like this,” and maybe he should have picked different words. 

“what?” she laughs. “half naked and pressed up against you?”

“jesus christ, no,” his cheeks warm, and he can feel the way her fingers are rubbing the back of his neck. “happy. you’re different here.”

“only when you’re the one here with me,” she presses a kiss to his cheek before stepping back. “now get in the shower. we are not missing latitudes.”

✮✮✮

lynn talks so much during the uber ride to the ferry port. she does it with a big grin on her face, and harry can tell that she’s genuinely excited about their night he had planned. she spends the entire drive discussing the menu and comparing it to yelp reviews, and when they’re on the ferry, she tells him stories about coming here with her grandma while her fingers toy with the small pendant that hangs from the gold chain around her neck. 

the two talk all the way through two appetizers and a bottle of wine. harry lets lynn order everything for them because she was the one who wanted to come in the first place, and also because she had spent so much time dissecting the menu. honestly, he didn’t really care what he ate, as long as she was having everything she wanted.

their table was right on the beach, and he had a perfect view of the sun starting to set right behind lynn. harry was sure of only two things at this moment. lynn looks breathtaking in her pretty blue dress, especially during sunset, and he absolutely adores hearing her voice. harry thinks he could hear her talk forever and ever.

she tells him the story from the picture of her and elena with the first place certificate. it was a simple strawberry cheesecake cupcake, and the two had spent nearly a month practicing beforehand. lynn swears that they came out perfect every single time, except for the day of the contest. apparently, the first batch of icing wasn’t setting properly because she had cried too hard over the bowl.

when their mains come, harry realizes that this is the first time the two have hung out and gotten to know each other without some depressing undertone hanging around their conversation. sure, harry learned about elena last night, but the conversation was sad. here, lynn talked about her childhood with shiny eyes, and laughed with harry when he did the same with his.

“have you ever been grand gestured?” lynn asks around a forkful of seared grouper. her dish looked absolutely delicious, and harry regretted not getting it himself.

“not unless you’re counting a cheesy promposal.”

“hm,” she hums. “i’m going to have to go with no.”

“what about you?” harry picks up the wine bottle sitting in the chiller and works on refilling both of their glasses. “have you ever been grand gestured?”

“this is as close as i’ve come.”

“this is not a grand gesture,” harry stresses. he’s worried it’ll come across wrong for a moment until she laughs. “i just meant this is the bare minimum.”

“i know,” she smiles at him, and harry wishes he could take a picture of this moment and keep it tucked away inside his brain forever. “thank you for this again, harry.”

he’s a bit tipsy, and he can tell she is too by the amount of giggles leaving her mouth. harry always saw a sad lynn when she was drunk, and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to see this side of her, too.

this side was magical. there was really no other way to put it. she was the kind of woman that people write books about.

when harry gets tired of his pasta, he twirls little bites around his fork before leaning across the table and feeding it to lynn. it was probably a little immature to be doing at a restaurant like this, but he didn’t really care, and he could tell that she didn’t either by the little appreciative hums that fell around his fork everytime.

“ugh,” she groans when harry orders a slice of key lime pie for dessert. “harry, i’m going to explode!”

“s’okay,” his hand reaches across the table to pat the top of hers. “you don’t have to eat any of it.”

“of course i do. you know i love a sweet treat,” and really, he didn’t, but he does now.

their arms are wrapped around each other’s backs as they walk in through the front door of the condo. lynn immediately goes to the kitchen to get the last of their remaining wine while harry takes the bedroom to change into something a little comfier. 

“more wine? where all you getting all of these?”

“been swiping them from my mom’s cabinet,” lynn’s sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch, and she laughs at harry’s words, the half empty bottle of wine pressed to her lips. after a sip, she stretches her arm out to harry, “c’mon. it’s our last night.”

he sits next to her, taking a gulp from the bottle before passing it back. “did you have fun tonight?”

“of course i did,” her voice is quiet, not much above a whisper. “i always have fun when we’re together.”

harry turns his head so he’s looking at her. he watches as her eyes drop to his mouth and then travel back up. a little laugh makes her hair float around her face, and as soon as harry thinks she’s leaning in, she stops with a loud ow falling from her lips.

and that’s how harry ends up sitting on the couch with lynn between his knees, working at the pinched nerve she complained about.

"jesus, you're so tight," harry mutters as his thumbs dig into the flesh of her shoulders. 

"you're not the first guy to say that.”

"absolutely filthy tonight, aren't you?" 

she laughs, and rests her head on her knees. a breathy moan pushes past her lips when he digs into a particularly sore area, "feels good. my neck fucking aches."

harry continues working her shoulders and neck, paying extra attention to the areas that make her breath hitch. he can’t stop looking at the way her lips part and eyebrows draw together. her head tilts back, and her neck strains, like she’s trying to stop herself from making a sound. the soft sighs and muffled whines that she does let fall from her mouth are enough to make him half hard.

he’s embarrassed by it, and really, he tries to think of anything else. if lynn knew he was feeling this way, they’d probably never speak to each other again, but her skin is just so soft and warm, and she sounded so fucking pretty. he really couldn’t help it.

“didn’t realize how much i missed this,” she murmurs with her head leaning against his knee.

“getting a massage? you know they have places for that.”

“knock it off,” he can feel her fingers pinching at his ankle. “i meant this… touching.”

harry hums. “i know what you mean.” 

“what?” lynn laughs. “is seven days without taking someone to bed too long for you?”

harry hasn’t been with anyone in weeks. not since lynn had walked in on him and the girl from the bar. he wasn’t necessarily avoiding sex. it’s just that every time he’s gotten close to bringing someone home, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“s’different when it’s someone you care about,” he says instead.

harry can feel the way lynn stops picking at the carpet. her body stills except for her shoulders which move up with a deep breath when his fingers brush over her neck. he’s not really working out the knots in her muscle anymore. he’s just… touching.

it doesn’t last for very long because lynn is soon crawling up to sit next to him on the couch. she drapes her knees over his with a sigh on her lips and color blooming on her cheeks. her eyes are glassy when he looks into them, and her mouth is open like she’s going to say something. she doesn’t.

instead, her fingers cup his cheek, and then her mouth is pressing short, sweet kisses to his. she’s slow with it. her lips lazily sucking, and sometimes she drags her tongue slowly across his bottom lip, never letting it venture past that. harry savors her kisses, letting her do whatever she wants.

he knows it’s just fun for her. she’ll probably pull away with a giggle and say something about how it’s been so long since she’s been kissed like that. she’d press her lips against his once more and then they’d go to sleep. it was his fault for letting it feel intimate. with every suck of her mouth, he felt the want for her grow hot in his belly. she was just so perfect. 

her lazily kisses pick up a little more pace until they’re feverish. she sucks and licks and harry groans when he feels her teeth nip at his lips. he thinks he possibly couldn’t get even more turned on than he is right now and then she’s straddling his lap, her knees tightly pressed at the sides of his thighs.

“fuck,” she gasps into his mouth as soon as he feels her against him. harry can’t even think straight. the warmth of her has his brain going foggy and his heart racing in a way that should probably be concerning. all it took was one roll of her hips, and he was a pathetic, whining mess beneath her. 

"maybe you'd like a reward for all of your hard work?" she breathes into his mouth as she grinds down against him.

"i hope it's that mouth," the pad of his thumb brushes across her lips. they’re swollen and shiny with their spit. "y'know how much i like kissing you. still sweet from dessert, too.” 

"how does my throat sound?" harry thinks that he’s heard her wrong, but then she parts her lips and takes his thumb into her mouth, sucking hard.

he can’t help the way he groans at the sight in front of him. her pretty blue dress all the way up to her thighs with her red lips wrapped around his thumb. she is going to kill him.

when she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, harry pushes his thumb further back before pressing it down right at the back of her mouth. she gags at the intrusion, looking down at him with big, teary eyes.

"don't think you could fit all of me in there," he pushes down a few more times just to see the way her eyes water over, and then he lets his thumb smear the thick saliva pooling at the corners of her mouth down her chin and all the way to her chest. 

"wanna find out?"

he hums, leaning forward. "how bad do you want it?"

she laughs a little, the air from her mouth fanning across his face. "i don't beg, harry. especially not for you. don’t you see that?”

"oh really?" he pulls her into a searing kiss, letting his fingers slide all the way around to the back of her neck until they’re threaded in her hair. harry grabs a fistful of the soft strands and pulls her mouth away from his while his other hand nudges her leg over so she’s back sitting next to him. "that's too bad, blondie."

his lips sponge soft, wet kisses from her mouth down to her shoulders, and then back up. he angles her head so he can trail them up the front of her throat all the way to right below her ear. he lets his teeth graze at the soft skin until she’s letting out a shaky breath and pushing his face away.

"god, harry," he thinks she's going to cave. "i know you're practically a teenager, but you don't have to try and mark me up like one."

"didn't realize turning thirty meant you can't have any fun," harry bites back.

"i am not-" he presses his lips to hers, swallowing down whatever else she was going to say. he thinks if he had to spend one more second without his mouth on hesr, he’d die. "you're lucky you're pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" he's got a teasing grin on his face.

"don't be annoying. look at you.” and that was it. he knew exactly how to get under her skin. 

"do you think i'm prettiest in those yellow swim shorts you put in my suitcase?" he’s leaning in so his nose is nudging hers. lynn’s face flushes and she opens her mouth to speak but closes it. "don't get all shy on me now. i've felt you staring all day."

she scoffs, hands coming up to push at harry’s chest. "you wish."

"maybe i do," a kiss. "wore them just for you after all."

lynn fists his t-shirt, bringing his mouth back to hers. they kiss like they’ve been starved of each other for weeks. harry lets his touch slide up her calf, and his fingers caress the back of her knee.

"harry," her words are soft. a whimper.

"evelyn," harry’s fingers push higher, running all the way up to the inside of her thigh and back down. each time his touch gets closer until he’s thumbing at the cotton edge of her underwear. "what's the matter, blondie? you've gone all quiet on me."

"please," is all she says. it’s so quiet, harry barely catches it over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears.

"what was that?"

"you heard me.”

"i don't think i did."

"please, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, but harry sees right through it.

"please what?" his thumb slides a little under her underwear where he could feel the heat pooling. "are you still all achy?"

lynn nods with a whine in her throat and she turns her head to try and hide the pink flush in her cheeks. looking at her is practically intoxicating.

"gonna tell me where so i can make it better?"

when she doesn’t answer, he squeezes her shoulder, "here?"

her head shakes.

“hmm..” his fingers trail to her neck. “here?”

another shake.

 “what about here?” he says as his fingers pinch back at her calf.

lynn groans as she takes his hand, pressing his fingers against her cloth covered center. "here, harry."

"poor, baby," harry murmurs against the crook of her neck. his finger is only gently running against the dampness of her underwear. enough to make her whine, but not enough to give her much relief. "got yourself all worked up over what? little old me?"

"you're ridicu-" a moan from deep in her chest cuts her off when harry thumbs at her clit. she’s looking at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. he’s not sure if she didn’t expect him to actually touch her, or if she wasn’t expecting to sound so loud.

"here's what i think," he’s only looking at her, his hand back to barely touching her. "you like to act all tough, but it's quite the opposite, really. my sweet honey just needs someone to take care of her, doesn’t she?"

"y-yes.”

he adds a little bit of pressure. a treat for giving him what he wanted. "wanna hear you say it.”

lynn doesn’t answer, and harry tsks before pulling away from her. “nothing? what a shame?”

"i need someone to take care of me," she rushes out like she was so desperate for his touch to be back on her. and what kind of man would harry be if he didn’t listen?

"who?" he pushes further. she's looking at him with furrowed brows. "who do you need to take care of you? to make it all better?"

"you," she cries, her voice broken and needy. "need you to make it better. please, harry.”

"there you go," he praises her with a few kisses to her face. "c’mere, baby."

he tugs her hand so she’s seated in between his legs with her back pressed to his chest. she spreads her legs over his when he nudges her with his knee, and then his fingers find the hem on the pretty blue dress to bunch it at her waist.

"being so good f'me," he kisses her neck while he lets his fingers travel over the plush flesh of her tummy. sure, he felt her like this every night, but this was different. "don't wanna do anything you don't want to, okay? just have to tell me if you want to stop."

"okay," she rushes out. "just... please."

"such good manners," he murmurs against her skin. "think you deserve a little reward."

harry wishes he could forever hear the sound she made when he first dipped his fingers in the front of her underwear. he never imagined her to be so noisy, so loud, but with each stroke of his fingers came whines and moans and whimpers so filthy, they would make the devil look away.

his hand is cramping against the restricting fabric, so he pushes her ruined underwear down her legs, leaving her to kick them the rest of the way off, before moving her hand to the back of her thigh and instructing her to hold herself open for him.

“you’re so fucking hot when you listen, y’know that?” lynn whines at his words and squirms against him as his fingers slowly make a mess of her, watching the way her arousal strings between his fingers. harry’s breathing stops when he catches the perfect view of her. all spread open and glistening. just for him.

harry’s thumb rubs circles against her clit while the rest of his fingers move all the way down, teasing at her entrance. he never pushes in further than his fingertip before he moves them back up and starts again. he does this until she’s so wet that he knows it has to be dripping down onto the couch, and then he slowly pushes a finger in.

lynn’s head is tilted back against his shoulder, and he sponges kisses to the part of her neck that she has bared to him.

“do you think y’can come from this?” he murmurs against her skin. “i know it’s-”

“yes,” she’s quick to breathe out. “god, yes. you’ve got me so fucking horny right now. i’ll be the easiest you’ve ever had.”

and she’s right. once harry moves his free hand from her waist to her center to give her a bit more stimulation, she’s a goner. her moans and whimpers turn into high pitched whines, and her back arches away from him. he can feel her clenching on his fingers, and all it takes is one more curl and she’s nearly convulsing. 

harry’s fingers offer lazy touches until she’s whining and snapping her legs together. his lips press warm, encouraging kisses against her neck and shoulders and really, anywhere they could reach. lynn melts in to him, her face falling in the crook of his neck. little giggles tickle his skin as he pulls her dress down to cover her back up.

“so perfect, evy,” he whispers. he expects another laugh or maybe a bashful shove, but instead she’s quick to stand up and head for the front door. “wait.”

"i- um, sorry i just," she clears her throat, and then. "i need some air."

"lynn-" the door slams, and harry’s left wondering what exactly he did wrong.

✮✮✮

harry: im sorry

harry: i shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away

harry: i don’t know what else to say but i am so sorry.

lynn shuts off her phone and slips it into her pocket before quietly opening up the door to the bedroom. all of their stuff was packed up. only an outfit that she had picked earlier in the day was left on top of her suitcase in a nice neat pile. the huge mess she had made in the bathroom before dinner was all packed up into her toiletry bag, and when she stepped a bit closer, she could see harry stretched out under the covers all the way on the other side of the bed. he was such a gentleman.

she felt so embarrassed when she found herself calling her aunt to let her into her condo. she didn’t mean to run out on harry the way she did, but once everything started to feel a little bit too real, she didn’t know what else to do. what was she supposed to say? i actually haven’t let anyone touch me like that in over half a decade, but yeah, we can call it two friends just helping each other out.

her aunt offered her a shower and a change of clothes and then sat with lynn on the bathroom floor while she cried so hard, she nearly threw up. aunt cece rubbed her back while she dry heaved over the toilet bowl, and then she sat and listened while lynn told her all about their fake arrangement.

“isn’t that pathetic?” lynn had said once she was finished.

aunt cece only sighed, “i think it’s more pathetic that you’re crying this hard over here instead of just telling him how you feel.”

and once aunt cece mentions that she thinks that harry likes her in a way that’s more than just platonic, lynn starts thinking that maybe letting him know about her feelings wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

they’d spend more alone time together once they got home. lynn would probably invite him to the bakery on a sunday where she could show him everything elena had helped her create. she’d send him home with loaves of bread and all of the muffins his heart desires. 

maybe he’d let her watch him paint. they could spend sunny afternoons in the park with a picnic and a canvas. she’s only ever been artistic in the kitchen, but she’d definitely try to paint something for harry. it’d probably end up terrible, but he’d keep it. maybe even hang it up in his house. she knows she’d do the same. covering her walls in harry’s art just because they were made from him.

long nights would be spent in between her sheets, where he’d give her the best orgasms she’s ever had in her entire life (just like he did tonight). and then maybe, he’d let her touch him, too.

“he called me evy,” lynn told her aunt. it was the very phrase that had her running, but this time a smile forms on her face when she thinks of it. “i told him about evelyn, but not evy.”

it was a nickname her grandmother had given her. everyone had called the older woman evie, and so she called lynn, evy. she had said she wanted her granddaughter to feel like her own person, and the name stuck. 

the first time her dad called her evy after her grandmother's passing lynn cried so hard she threw up in her front yard. it didn't feel right coming from peter, and even when luke wrapped her in all the love he could muster, pressing kisses to her face and promising evy that everything would be okay night after night, it still felt wrong. it was like there was an itch that could only be scratched by her grandma's voice. and now harry's.

“maybe she sent him to you,” her aunt’s fingers smoothed her hair away from her face before kissing her head. “go see him.”

harry looks up from his phone when he hears lynn step into the small room. “i’m so fucking sorry, lynn.” 

his voice is raw and scratchy, and the thought of him crying over what she did to him makes her heart break. she climbs into the bed, sitting with her feet underneath her. “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“but, i-”

“nothing, harry,” she stresses."you didn't do anything wrong. i just... i get in my own head sometimes. i'm sorry i left the way i did."

"it’s okay," he rolls over so he's facing her. his hand covers hers. "you can talk to me when you feel like that, lynn."

"the guy i dated before my last, he was," she clears her throat. "he was a friend. well, he is a friend and i think..."

she doesn't know how to say what she wants. lynn thinks dating her friend was one of the best decisions she's ever made. that relationship happened nearly a decade ago and she still secretly wishes that she was selfish and asked him to stay when he came to her door. 

well, she used to wish. she hasn’t thought about it in a while.

she thinks that maybe her and harry could be like that. or they could try to be like that. they were friends. they knew each other and she was comfortable with him. comfortable enough to let his hand go up her dress. her cheeks warm at the thought.

she'll tell him that being with luke ruined their friendship and she was never close with him again. lynn never really minded the way luke slipped so easily from her life, but she’s terrified that the same would happen with harry. she really likes having him around.

she’s going to tell him regardless, and perhaps she’ll make him promise that trying wouldn’t ruin anything. that if their relationship went south, they’d still have their friendship to fall back on.

"i think that, um," she closes her eyes and harry squeezes her hand. “um, well-”

"it's okay. i'm still hung up on my ex, too. what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything."

oh.

"okay," she breathes, trying to make sure she didn’t look as devastated as she fucking felt. "good. that’s what i was going to say."

harry sighs, "i haven't been able to stop thinking about him recently, if i'm being honest."

shut up! shut up! shut up! shut up!

"why don't you tell me about him?" she gets under all of the covers, an excuse to pull herself away from him. "since you know about mine."

lynn doesn’t really know why she asks, but she did. so, she listens to harry talk about his stupid ex named oliver with a huge smile on her face. like she could not be more elated to be hearing about how much he loves him if she tried. lynn wipes his tears when he talks about how mean he was to the boy when they were in high school, and even holds his hand when he hiccups about how much he misses him. 

“you should reach out to him,” she says, letting her fingers card through his hair.

“you think so?” harry sniffs. 

“yeah,” lynn hums. “it might be good for both of you.”

when lynn mentions it, she doesn’t expect him to do it right then and there, but he does. he pulls out facebook messenger, and she has to pretend not to notice the way that oliver jones was the only saved search.

maybe they’ll meet up, oliver will want nothing to do with him. harry will have a cleared conscious and he'll come back to lynn. she’ll go to therapy as soon as the plane’s wheels touch down in westchester, so when he ultimately comes knocking at her door, she’ll be better. good for him.  yeah, she thinks. that will totally happen.

she clings on to whatever little sliver of hope she had left because that stupid scenario was the only thing keeping her from bursting in to tears.

when lynn looks over at harry, he’s tapping away on his phone screen. the dim light illuminates his face, and she decides if that moment were to ever come around, she’d be selfish. just that once.

✰✰✰✰

a/n: this felt like sooo much information but! part six sooon (hopefully by the end of next week)

[everlastlady]

Bloody Legend: Mammon X Reader

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✰- Author's Note: Someone onced asked once the new episode of Helluva Boss was dropped, would I write Mammon content. Well here is some angst filled Mammon content depending how this goes there might be a part 2 with a happy ending. I have to say, I and absolutely enjoyed the new episode yesterday. Especially Mammon is a character that you can hate or love. I have mix feelings about him because I relate to Fizzarolli, but I did enjoy Mammon being a greedy, egotistical, and controlling bastard. But for those who want to get jiggy with Mammon, here is your food. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✰- Story Contains: Controlling Mammon, Angst, Mammon being mentally abusive, Striker, Verosika Mayday, Gender Neutral Reader, Some Wholesome moments, hazbin easter egg & Spoilers from the new episode so read with caution.

✰- Word Count: None today, I'm writing this in Tumblr mobile app.

✰- Posted: 10/30/2023

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Mammon was absolutely pissed how things ended at the show. How his cash cow Fizzarolli sung that song, if anyone sang it around him. He would squish them like a bug without hesitation. Mammon was loosing money because Fizzarolli quit, no one was being the merchandise and especially the sex dolls. The papers talked about what was going on and Mammon was hoping that Asmodeus was regretting revealing that he loves Fizzarolli, but no it seems everyone and the media was eating it up like some cheesy love story. Mammon couldn't even hire the twins because they ended up in the hospital in comas after what happened to them at the show. He needed a new cash cow and he couldn't hold another clown off because no one would buy the tickets. He felt frustrated and lost, until he met you.

You were a comedian in the Wrath Ring while Mammon was visiting he came across you in the run down comedy club. He saw that the crowd adored you. How you made people spit with laughter, cry from laughter, or even die. Even your jokes matched your looks in which in his mind you look absolutely stunning. He thought you were too good for this place way to good. He could offer you a better deal, a better life, and so much fame and fortune. So after the show he went to your dressing room. You were surprised to see the king of greed in your dressing room. It was quite scary because of how big and intimidating he was. " (Y/N)! Finally nice to meet ya! " He exclaimed in a large smile while looking down at you. He thought it was cute how nervous you were how, you almost fell over trying to bow to him. The way you stumbled over your words. Usually he hated people who stumbled with your words; but when you did it. It was cute.

Mammon finally convinced you to leave this shithole comedy club and become his mascot. He talked about all the fame and fortune he could give you. This made you feel over the moon because you always wanted to be famous but also support your mother who has been taking care of you ever since your father walked out on you both. So you agreed to become Mammon's new clown face. Mammon felt happy; he would soon be making money and he especially had you. Mammon did as promised. You had fame and fortune. You even were able to get your mother a beautiful big home with maids, butlers, and anything she desired. Mammon could see how you cared for your mom so he made a mental note of that.

You were making Mammon so much money. You also had many fans. You loved your fans but the creepy ones always made you uncomfortable. You would tell Mammon about who would tell that's just show business that you are bound to have creepy fans. " Don't worry that just means you are doing an amazing bloody job! The creepier ones spend the most money. But don't worry they won't touch ya. You are tough so please don't disappoint me, mate, you do wanna continue to support me and you, especially your mum? Think about your poor mum and all she went through on those streets to support you (Y/N) " Mammon said while putting on a pretend frown and fake sadness in his voice. This made you feel guilty for complaining, Mammon waa right with popularity in show business comes creepy fans and you wanted to continue to give your mom the prefect life style.

After that conversation you noticed that Mammon got four hellhounds to always escort you everywhere. Anytime a creepy fan came up. They were always thrown, bit, or pounded it into the ground. This eased your anxiety a bit but also made you a bit annoyed because not only are they your body guards. But they choose what you ate, who you talked with, and your schedule. You tried to address Mammon about this but he said. " They are just making sure that you stay fit it's good that you do or else your fans will leave you, you also need a great social status so you'll be meeting with Verosika Mayday soon, and the schedule just helps get things in order. I don't want to hear anymore complaints from you, you're a bloody legend (Y/N) so act like it... " He would dismiss you and go back to counting his money.

Mammon wanted to boost your social status, so you were set to perform at a popular restaurant in the Pride Ring. You were going up after some radio demon called Alastor. " I'm not sure why you brought me here. " Striker grumbled to his girlfriend Verosika. " Oh, calm down it's been a while since we had a date night. " Verosika said while fixing her dress. " Date night? This is barely a date night you have meeting with that big ass Christmas tree Mammon and his little sellout puppet. " Striker said while fixing his tie. " Still a date night so please behave for me~ " Verosika would bat her eye lashes as Striker sighed. " Yes darlin' " Striker said. Verosika had started dating Striker a long time ago the two met in a bar and ordered the same drink that one drink turned into several the two on their drunken rant discovered they both hate i.m.p especially Blitzø what became a beautiful start of friendship turned into romance. So here the two sat at the large table with Mammon. Verosika and Mammon drinking and laughing while talking about show business. Striker just drank his whiskey while munching down on a steak, even though he hated fancy places like this, he had to admit the steak was good.

As you perform on stage, Mammon seemed delighted at your performance but Verosika and Striker could tell something was off about you. The two exchanged looks, Verosika clears her throat. " Is (Y/N) ok? They look sickly and exhausted. " Verosika said to Mammon. The greed lord looked at Verosika. " Yeah yeah, (Y/N) that's just their make-up and they are just nervous. " Mammon laughed nervously, he'll have to talk with you later. Striker could smell bullshit from a mile away. " Always trying to make a profit off my kind. Do they even want to be up there, I know what make-up is and that isn't make up you piece of- " Before Striker could finish his sentence. Verosika shoved a piece of steak in Striker's mouth and laughed nervously. " Ignore him, he's had too much to drink. " Verosika said glaring at Striker. Who was choking on the steak but managed to sallow. " It's good, I'm sure that your little boyfriend just jealous of (Y/N), they choose to be on stage. (Y/N) always pushes their self to work hard even when not feeling well, I beg them to rest but they don't listen. They just love making me money and supporting their poor mum. " Mammon said the last part dramatically.

Striker never really cared about anyone besides his horse Bombproof and his girlfriend Verosika. So after your performance he was determined to meet you. So after Verosika and Mammon went off to talk. He decided to prove what Mammon was spitting about you at the table was bullshit. He found his way into the dressing room and saw you throwing up into a trash can and shaking with chills. He snatched a blanket off the couch and quietly walked over to you and drapped it over your shoulders. You turned around thinking it was one of your bodyguards but jumped seeing it was some imp in western attire. You tried to scream because you thought it was another creepy fan but Striker covered your mouth. " I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not a creepy fan, I actually don't give two shits about you. I just want to ask you some questions so can you give me some answers alright? " Striker asked. You slowly nod your head as Striker pulled away his hand. " Are you happy and doing okay working for Mammon? "

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Let me know if you guys want a part 2 because this is fun to write again depending how this goes. It can turn to Mammon X Reader or Striker X Reader X Verosika. Or even Mammon X Reader X Verosika X Striker. Depending on what y'all want just let me know and feel free to share ideas. Also let me know if y'all want Alastor to make another appearance.

[jame7t]

do you know what to do with all these molted cicada nymph shells

Sure, they're not dead, but they still give off the same vibe to me. You know? The empty casings of a spent thing? Dust gathering in the recesses where something used to be? Sure, they're not dead, but they still set off my Necroentomophobia. Fear of dead bugs! Did you know that? Did you know people could be scared of dead bugs? Whatever. It's not the same as being scared of a bug, sure. But I can be scared of a lot of bugs. Sure, little things, like the humble lady bug- not scary. Butterflies, scant as they are, are only off-putting to me. The beautiful moth? Well, I love it, but I don't want to hurt it. It's whimsical, fat body makes me nervous. I don't want to squish it by accident! Because then it would be a dead bug.

And that's worse. It's like, not precisely a direct fear of a dead bug. It won't leap at me in a defiant rage, or be waiting for me around the scary corner. It's more like a shortcut to existential dread. It's a combination of 'ew!' and 'I am going to die one day' and more importantly, if a bug is dead, something has killed it. And you never know if that something is still lurking around. Just kidding. Do you know what a cicada shell is made of? That's right. It's the happy chitin! I don't have an issue with chitin. We're not chitinous beasts, but we have the enzymes to break them down. Humans, that is. This isn't a science fiction piece. This is my blog. I've always thought chitin was interesting though- it's a natural armor made for little guys ostensibly. Little guys in the sense, that it is for bugs only. Well, crabs have chitin, and they can get pretty big- The spider crab can grow over 300 feet in diameter. Just kidding, it can't do that. It's pretty big though. At this point, you'd think: 'Okay- crab reference, and a direct link to the enzymes to break down chitin. Do we eat them? Should we eat the Cicada shells?' Well, I'm not going to. That sounds kind of scary to me. Would you? Would you eat the shell of a thing? I can't imagine it tastes good. I'm eating potato chips right now. They're yummy, and crunchy, and in many ways- the opposite of the humble cicada's false corpse. A lying bug. A lying, cheating, swarming thing. A bug we don't like. A bug we have to deal with. Don't we have to deal with everything? Would it be easier to show less mercy to the little things? It wouldn't, and it would be mean. And that's worse. Anyway, to answer your question, you turn them into mulch, apparently. Or bury them in a hole. Through my research, those were the only two real options we have. There's also 'add them to compost.' So that's three, you have three options. Do you want my opinion? No? Moving on then. There's also a fourth option- a telling one, at that. A sort of 'secret option' lots of people choose. 'Let them decompose on your lawn.' Right? Right, the easy one? Might as well call it 'do nothing.' Doing nothing is always a choice, sure, but when you give me the choice to 'do nothing' in a game, or choose your own adventure, it always seems like a lazy choice on the developer's part. And sure, from your real life perspective, it's probably the easiest. But from a game design perspective? You have to account for the player sitting and watching. What happens if I don't intervene? What happens if I let it continue? Well, in the case of the empty cicada, they stink apparently. I've never noticed it, and we have cicadas here- but I've been lucky enough to never be out in or see a swarm. A predecessor of mine once recalled a story in which the swarm was so bad, you couldn't walk outside without crushing them on the sidewalks "Ew," is what I thought. Maybe they only smell if there's hundreds of them. Thousands? No, probably just hundreds. Not saying they wouldn't smell more if there were lots, I'm saying they probably start being noticeable at around a hundred. Nothing wrong with that. Not sure what the smell is, though. Do you? You should put them in a hole.

[divine-misfortune]

What about Phantom and Mountian kissing as encouragement 👀

They say pacing is a good way to clear your head, at least Phantom was pretty sure he heard someone say it once. That someone was starting to feel like a real big fucking liar though. He had been pacing the length of the dressing room for an hour, maybe two, and his head was still horribly loud. Bees swarming in his skull, stinging his brain, he was this close to giving himself a little zap of quintessence to enter into a short coma to escape it.

Sound check had been nothing short of nightmarish on his end. Too many notes played sharp and riffs fumbled to be excused. Papa had even shot him a look - not exactly what you'd call a dirty look but one that still knotted up his stomach. Rain had even fixed him with something akin to a scowl, or maybe the sun was in his eyes.

Phantom just couldn't get off that stage fast enough, and the dread of being forced back onto it in a matter of hours nearly made him sick.

In an effort to maintain his grip on sanity, he'd started pacing and pacing got him nowhere. Phantom wanted to curl in on himself instead. The old leather couch in the corner was the perfect place in his opinion. The well loved cushion was easy to sink into, some sort of embrace to mend his frayed nerves. It almost barely helped.

Knees drawn up to his chest, arms folded, face hidden in them, he felt small. Fragile. Dead weight.

"Bug?"

Phantom's fingers dug into his biceps and he sniffled, blinking away tears he did not care to admit to. The best response he could manage was a weak hum, tuneless and a little unsteadier than he'd like.

"You're not dressed yet," Mountain was frowning. His voice always got a little softer when he frowned. "Whats going on?"

He shrugged. Lying, he knew exactly what the issue was and so did Mountain.

The couch dipped beside him and a large hand settled on his back. Slow circular motions between his shoulder blades that had Phantom unraveling. It shouldn't have been so easy but Mountain made everything seem so simple.

"Rough day, huh sprout?"

"Yeah..." he croaked sadly and lifted his head enough to rest his chin on his arms. "Do I have to do this?"

"Well, technically no but we're gonna sound like shit without you."

"Probably have a better chance without me tripping around up there."

Mountain shifted in his peripheral before slipping an arm around him, pulling the little ghoul against his chest without a fight. Phantom wanted to be there anyhow. Closest thing to safety he had in that little room. He wrapped both arms around his middle and clutched at Mountain's vest. Hiding against him tamed the swarm in his head, quieted the worst of the turmoil.

"You need to be more patient with yourself."

"Easier said than done."

"I know, I know. Despite what the gray hairs might lead you to believe I was new to this too once." Phantom snorted and let out a shuddered breath that wracked his delicate frame. "Could tell you a thousand stories about my bad days on tour, and you're gonna collect quite a few of your own but they'll get easier to shrug off."

Phantom held tighter and Mountain embraced him the same. Squished him like it might just squeeze the doubt out of the little quint. It didn't, of course, but it did get a laugh out of him. Weak but genuine.

"Lemme see that pretty face, I wanna make it better."

There was a moment of hesitation to unlatch from the earth ghoul but he did inevitably, rewarded by those familiar warm eyes. Mountain's mouth quirked upwards at the edges and he cupped his face in both hands. All he wanted to do was melt into them, trusting him to keep him upright.

Mountain leaned in and caught his lips before they could quiver with the threat of another little cry again. One little peck, followed by another, and another. Cautiously paced with every kiss, deepening slowly until Phantom was boneless between his hands. This always seemed to go to his head, could damn near restart his brain just by kissing him - and that was the point.

And Mountain gave him one more before breaking away before all he had was a puddle of a ghoul left. Squishing his flushed cheeks, he gave an exaggerated mwah just as he sat back to admire his work. Phantom's eyes were half lidded, fluttering delicately as he registered the absence of Mountain’s mouth against his.

"Give yourself a little grace, you've more than earned it. Some days are just gonna be bad...But I promise to always try to kiss the blues away."

"...Think I'm still feeling a little blue, can you try again?" Phantom asked quietly, tugging at his vest hopefully.

"Only after you get dressed. I'll ward off aaaaaall those sad feelings till we're called to places once you do. Deal?"

"Deal."

[theoreticslut]

「 sleepyhead 」

robin buckley x fem reader

summary: your girlfriend - & friends - finds you adorable when you’re sleepy.

requested: yes

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, sleepiness, semi-public sleeping, pet names (lovebug/bug, baby/babe, & squish)

a/n: i know i wrote this fic, but it makes me so soft i stg. i love robin so much & this request was so fucking cute. i really hope you guys enjoy it! Xx

Trying to hide a yawn behind your hand, you can’t help but pout as you hear Robin still laughing and talking animatedly with your guys’ friends. 

It’s the weekly movie night all of you - Steve, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, and yourself - had agreed upon, but tonight you wanted nothing more than to curl up into bed with your girlfriend. 

You’ve had a rough week, and you had hoped that a movie night with friends would lift your spirits, but all it seems to have done is drain you more. Thankfully movie night is happening at Robin’s place tonight, so you don’t have to worry about getting home or anything. 

Unfortunately, although Robin’s house is just as much yours as it is her’s now, you felt weird leaving the group to go up to bed. If you didn’t, you would have gone to bed an hour ago.

“Robin, your girlfriend looks a bit left out.” Steve comments, noticing how you’re sitting apart from the group. 

Pout deepening as everyone looks at you, you wish you could smite Steve for saying anything to begin with. You’re content enough to sit aside and wait for them to leave. Now you have to interact with them when you couldn’t care less to do so right now. 

Robin notices your grumpiness and lets a frown settle on her lips. Reaching her hands out for you, she gently questions you.

“What's wrong, lovebug? You look grumpy.” 

Plopping down next to her, her arms wrapping around you, you almost instantly feel your sleepy-invoked grumpiness melting away.

“‘M tired, Robin.” You murmur, curling further into your girlfriend’s side as she chuckles.

“Then go to bed, baby. No one’s going to stop you.” She smiles, stroking your hair as she presses a kiss to the top of your head.

You groan, upset that she doesn’t understand you want her with you, but you’re also not going to say that in front of your friends. While they’re used to the two of you hugging and sharing kisses, you prefer to keep just how soft for her you are to yourself.

“M’alright.” You mumble, letting out a sigh as you feel your eyes get heavier.

“You sure? I know you’ve had a long week.” 

“‘M okay.” 

She frowns down at you but doesn’t argue, knowing how stubborn you are. You’re not going to move to go to bed until you’re ready to. Therefore, she’s more than happy to let you curl into her side as she continues to play with your hair, knowing that’ll comfort you as she continues to talk with everyone.

~.~

“No, because I still don’t understand how there’s so many kids that come in and ask for that movie! It’s insane, especially when I know I’ve told some of those kids no already.” Robin states, adding to the story her and Steve are telling about the video store. 

At your soft groan, though, she quiets down, having forgotten how loud she was being. She knew you had fallen asleep a little while ago, shortly after you sat down with her, but she didn’t want to move you nor did she want to wake you up.

In all honesty, she was content sitting on the couch with you sleeping next to her as everyone talks and just hangs out. It’s almost domestic in a way, and she didn’t mind indulging in it a little longer. 

“Is she sleeping?” Steve questions as he, Eddie, and Nancy look over at you.

“Yeah. She’s had a real stressful, busy week.” Robin sighs, smiling lightly at how beautiful you look curled up with her. 

“How come she didn’t go to bed earlier then? She didn’t need to stay up with us if she was tired.” 

“You’ve met her, Steve. She wouldn’t have given in to her tiredness on the night we specifically have set aside for friends unless sleep took her over, which it obviously did. She’s stubborn.” Robin chuckles, pushing some hair out of your face as Steve shrugs, knowing that that’s exactly how you are.

“She’s kinda cute sleeping like that.” Eddie offhandedly comments, almost always having seen you stressed in one way or another. 

“Isn’t she?”

“I should probably get her up to bed soon. Did you guys want to hang out longer, or…?”

“No. No, we should probably get going ourselves. I mean, it is almost midnight.” Nancy pipes up, answering for both of the boys as neither of them really know when to leave. 

“Okay. Drive safe, yeah?”

“Of course. Do you, uh, do you need any help with her though?” 

Looking down at your sleeping form, Robin shakes her head with a soft smile.

“No. I’ve got her. Thank you though.”

“Yeah, no problem, Robin. We’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Yeah, definitely. Have a good night, you guys!” Robin smiles as she bids your guys’ friends goodnight. 

As the door closes behind Eddie, Robin turns her attention to you, not liking what she’s about to do, but knowing it needs to be done.

“Hey, lovebug. Gotta get up for a bit, okay?” She softly coos, brushing her finger against your cheek as you let out a small huff in your sleep.

“Y/n, baby. Gotta get up so we can get you in bed.”

Knowing you don’t like to be shaken awake, she pats your hip before rubbing soothing circles over your sleep pants.

“Love buuuug, time to get up for a bit.” She sings, patting your hip again.

“Let me sleep, squish.” You whine, not wanting to be up but not having a choice as Robin continues to rub your hip. 

Feeling a pat to your ass as you reply to her, you hear her chuckle lightly.

“I know you’re tired, babe, but I figured you’d be more comfortable in bed.”

Furrowing your brows, you groan as you fight to open your eyes, wondering where you were if you weren’t in bed.

Realizing you were on the couch, you groan as you remember that your friends had been here. You really didn’t want to fall asleep on them, but it seems you did anyway.

“They left just a few minutes ago, bug. They know you were tired.” Robin answers your unasked question.

“Okay. ‘M sorry I fell asleep.”

“No need to apologize, baby. You had a long week.” 

You sigh, nodding groggily as you close your eyes again, sleep fighting to take over again.

“Hey, hey, baby. Up to bed before you go back to sleep.”

“Do I have to, babe? I’m so tired.” You mumble, eyes half closed as you sit up slightly.

“Yes. Unless you wanna sleep by yourself, because I’m not going to sleep on the couch.”

Huffing, you push yourself up from your lying position, pausing as you work up the energy to drag yourself up from the couch.

Robin smiles as she watches you, taking pity on you as she wraps an arm around your waist to help you up. Once up, she lets you rest your arms over her shoulders as you make your way to the stairs.

It takes a moment, but you’re eventually laying in her bed as she digs through her dresser for some pajamas of her own.

“I wanna cuddle.” You pout, frowning at your girlfriend as you watch her change.

“We will soon as I get comfy, bug. I promise.” She chuckles, taking a face wipe and wiping off her minimal makeup.

“Did you take your makeup off, baby?” She questions, turning to look at you as you watch her.

“No. I’m too tired to.” 

“Nonsense. Let me help you.” 

Finishing her face, she tosses the wipe into the small trash bin she keeps in here before pulling out a fresh wipe and turning to you. Crossing the short distance from the dresser to the bed, she sits herself in front of you as she instructs you to close your eyes.

You do as she says, and sigh when you feel her gently wiping away your makeup from the day.

“Open your eyes, bug.” She commands as you open your eyes to look at her. You’ve always found her so pretty, but she doesn’t seem fazed whenever you’ve tried complimenting her.

You squint slightly as she goes to wipe at your lower lash line, trying to get all the mascara off of your lashes. 

“There you go. Now you’re all ready for bed.”

“Thank you.” You murmur as she tosses the wipe in the general vicinity of the trash bin, not caring if it makes it in or not.

“Can we please cuddle now?”

“Yes. You know, you’re cute when you’re all tired and needy.” She lightly teases, laughing as you pout at her before she settles herself under the covers.

After getting situated, you feel her reach out and grab at your waist. You let her pull you into her body where she wraps her arms around you as you wrap yours around her, burying your head into the crook of her neck.

“I love you, baby. Good night.”

“G’night.” You slur, sleep taking hold of you again rather quickly.

“I love you.” You murmur, that being the last thing either of you say before you fall asleep, feeling safe and comfortable in Robin’s arms as she mindlessly plays with your hair.

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pls like & reblog if you enjoyed!

join my taglist (:

a/n (2): just want to apologize in advance for the slow down of fics for a bit. I haven’t been able to do a lot of writing this past week, & I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to do in the next few weeks btn a surprise temporary living arrangement & trying to get things together for the start of college. so I’m really asking you all to just bear with me for a little bit. i definitely don’t want to - or plan to - stop writing anytime soon, but it will be a slower process moving forward. hopefully you all will stick with me 💗

[skumhuu]

Hi! I absolutely love Leviathantale but, I have one teeny tiny question. How did Dream and Nightmare acquire all the shiver? Was it a "this shark just hasn't stopped following me around" or more of a "that is a very sad boi, he's ours now" sort of situation?

Oh!! Okay so the acquiring went like people catching feral kittens. All of the previous sharks were spicy in their own ways.

Horror was the first to join, and he was half starved, injured, and feral. Usually the Leviathans treated mers like how one would a bug, squish or eat, but it was different this time. Nightmare was injured, recovering within the depths with Dream hovering over him. Nightmare saw himself in Horror and spared him. The rest is history :') Fun fact, Horror is the head shark of the shiver, not Nightmare or Dream. Horror also has the most experience with how healthy shiver dynamics actually went before time passed and shark mers became much more rare.

The order the sharks joined is: Horror, Dust, Killer, and then Cross. They all have their stories, I'll have to eventually sit down and actually write them lol

[superblysubpar]

Im in the mood to feel the summer vibes. I want some sloppy smutty summer vibes with Steve. A handy on the carnival ferris wheel, still sticky sweet from your cotton candy? A steamed up car at the drive ins, making it work cramped up in the seat? Eating popsicles from the ice cream truck as summer sweat drips down your neck and Steve gets so turned on he can't help himself? Hooking up on the DL and you find yourself teasing at a backyard picnic full of friends? Caught in a warm summer rainstorm and peeling your wet clothes off of one another goes from giggles to groans real quick?

I dunno. Have at it. Do your worst. 🤷🏼‍♀️

the song: Tenderly by Nat & Alex Wolff

The cicada’s buzz loudly, mixing with croaks of frogs, the ground is littered with popcorn and forgotten cups. The film has faded to black, lightning bugs blinking for attention instead of the stars above as Steve runs his fingers through your hair where it fans across his chest. Your cheek squished into that soft spot you always squirm around to find, soft puffs of breath leave your parted lips, your bare legs tangled with his. 

He lifts his head, the cars have all gone, the attendants have locked doors, turning lights off and pulling the rack down over the concession booth, paying no mind to the blanket on top of the hill since it’s not a car. You’re officially alone, still time left in the summer nights that seem to last longer and neither of you work tomorrow. Steve feels a little selfish for wanting to wake you, for wanting to spend as much time with you as possible - there’s always tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. 

Steve twists one lock of your hair around his finger and moves his gaze back up to the stars, trying to remember the facts and theories you told him about last week. Your eyes lit up as you explained certain constellations and stories from the past that people believed to be true. You had stopped halfway through a sentence, hands in midair, eyes sparkling. Your fingers pressed to your lips as you shook your head, “I’m sorry, I’m talking a lot, I’ll-”

“I love you.” It had been a breath, a shot in the dark and his chest felt tighter than any of the other times he had said those words. For some reason he knew it was different this time, that it was real. 

Then you smiled, crawled into his lap. Your nose brushed his as your arms fell around his shoulders as you whispered, “You love me, huh?”

He had gulped loudly, embarrassingly, hands squeezing at your waist as he leaned into you and nodded. Your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly and causing him to shiver. He sighed against your lips, pulling you closer to his chest as he hummed. Pretending to be fine that you didn’t say it back immediately, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, pretending like he wasn’t finding it hard to breathe as he changed the subject. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, wanna tell me more about that Orion guy? What’s his deal again? Why’s he disappear for the summer?”

You giggled, warmer against his cheek than the summer air and yet he shivered again as you sighed in his arms and laughed out a quiet, “Shit.”

He blinked at you and your hands cupped his jaw, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks, “I love you so much Steve Harrington.”

So is it really wrong for him to want to wake you up? To want to kiss you like he had that night and maybe some more? Is it wrong to-

A cool gust of wind whips at the ends of the blanket, touseling his hair and yours. Your arm draped over his stomach squeezes, pulling yourself against his body, hand slipping under his shirt and searching for warmth. 

Your head flips, resting a new cheek against his chest as you squint at him, lips twisting and voice groggy, “Good morning.”

Steve laughs, chest rumbling beneath you and your eyes open a little more, blinking away the heavy sleep as his fingers tuck hair behind your ear. His eyes are deep green and brown, moonlight reflected in them as he rubs his palm down your back and asks, “Good sleep?”

You scoot your body over him, legs falling between his as they bend and he pulls you tight against his chest. Your head glances over your shoulder and his thumb brushes over your pout as you groan, “I missed the whole movie?”

Thumb and forefinger holding your chin and jaw as he nods, lips fighting a smile, “Afraid so, think that was a new record for you.”

You moan, apologizing into his neck and he squeezes his arms around you and shrugs beneath you, “s’okay, wasn’t very good.”

Your lips kiss his jaw, just a quick press, but enough to have him swallow harshly, to squirm beneath you as you huff, “Wow, so I missed a bad movie and the opportunity to make out during it?”

You pull away, hands folding over his chest and grinning. He smirks, hands stilling on your back. Steve sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes, repeating his words dryly, “Afraid so.”

That’s how he ended up with you straddling him in the backseat of the maroon car. The windows fogged, condensation beating down them in rivulets that match the sweat glistening on your skin. You smell like peaches and cherry, he smells like mint and leather. Some slow song lazily crackling through the speakers that’s far too cheesy as Steve looks at you like that, like you’re the brightest star in the sky.  

His fingers brush over a bruise on your neck that’s darkening, his other hand cupping your jaw and pressing his nose into your cheek. Lips are glossy and slick with each other, hair rumpled from fingers. Your hips roll, hands reaching down to lift his shirt and Steve gasps out against your skin, kissing your jaw, “Wait…”

Your hands pause and his head hits the seat behind him as he adjusts underneath you. Head ducking down so he can look into your eyes as he says, “Can we go a little slower?”

Taken aback by his words, your mouth parts, your hands falter further and you nod. 

Steve’s hands cradle your jaw as he stares into your eyes, trying to memorize them, to memorize everything about you. Rough skin of calloused thumbs graze your cheeks, his breath is warm against your lips as he tilts his head. One hand slides along your jaw, tangling in your hair gently as he inhales briefly. Eyes glancing down at your lips before they close, soft touch of his mouth against yours. 

They lock together like the easiest puzzle pieces, a simple and gentle glide. His nose squishes yours, hand caressing your jaw and the other in your hair tipping you back for him. Steve sighs into your mouth as you open for him, your stomach flipping like the first time he kissed you and like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do it again. Your hands fall to his neck, pulling each other closer like it was a plan you discussed beforehand.   

It’s one of those movie kisses, the breath in and breath out happening together - in sync. Any thoughts being erased from your brain, the desperate need to never let each other go. It’s butterflies, it’s melting like ice cubes in lemonade on a June day. It’s sunrises and sunsets and stories that make your eyes light up. Steve breathes your name into your mouth, holding your jaw and sucking on your bottom lip as his eyelashes flutter when you say his right back. It’s all so sweet and slow, like honey and brown sugar melting together. 

But when your fingers curl in his collar and you make that little noise, hips rolling against him and he moves his hands to your back, tongue licking over yours, warm summer things turn to hot and dirty quickly. Steve doesn’t wanna let you go, quick presses of his lips as you slide together, gasping into open mouths. Suddenly it’s desperate, it’s that drop on a rollercoaster in your stomach, Steve’s lips the popsicle and a cannonball in a pool after hours in the sun. His fingers grip at your hips, gliding you over his hard length in a filthy grind as your hands scratch at his scalp. 

The breathy and sweet name on his lips is now a moan, a plea and you nod, pulling him back into a deeper kiss. Tongues swirling together, teeth nipping at lips and bodies pressing together like you want to be stuck for the rest of your lives - superglued together. A want turned into a need in your chest that begged to crack out and crawl into his. 

Your breathing grows more shallow, your whine fills his ears. He watches you glance down to where your hips meet with your lip pulled between your teeth and your brows furrowed together. Steve grips your waist tightly, watching as you push against his shoulders and fight off an orgasm from just a little kissing, just the drag of his denim against you in the right spot. Your lip pops free, mouth falling open in a gasp of his name as he feels you soaking him. Fingers frantic on his belt, you murmur into his jaw, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Wanna go faster now, please?”

And how can he say no to that? 

The cicada’s buzz louder as tender touches grow more impatient. The lightning bugs no longer steal his attention. Steve will take his time tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or the next.

He has all summer. 

[lefthandedhotch]

hello <3 thanks to pinterest i have an aaron and jack ask because <3 my boys <3 like thats husband and son fr !!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

he pet the small boy :3 actually CRYING because he's sooooooo so so so tiny :'))) and all smiley because his daddy gave him a medal :3 PLSSSS and then the team being all 👀🤭 when they meet beth CRIES i love them all soooo much :')) the only found family ever <3

thinking about them all meeting you there <33 aaron's fiance who he's been with for a good while and while they were a bit frowny :( at not getting to know about you sooner, they knew that he did it because of what happened with haley and foyet and they knew how important she was to him so they totally understood that he kept you a secret as long as he did🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 but penny tells them to all snap out of it because he only said fiance not wife so there's plenty of time to get to know you before and at the wedding which she will now be in charge of because she loves love 🤭🤭🤭😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 you look over at aaron and grin soooo happily because they're all as amazing as he and jack told you they'd be - actually!!! they're even more amazing than that!!!!!!!!!!!!!🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 you kiss your sweaty sweaty man and congratulate him on the triathlon and how amazing he did and he gets all blushy and shy despite the team being there (penelope Can Not control her squeals of happiness ajsmskfnfkdkgkk) and you all go get something to eat and jack holds your hand so happy that his aunties and uncles can finally meet you and!!!!! because he has a medal🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 penelope is squished to your other side asking So Many questions and you look over at aaron so amused and so happy because he has such a silly bau family and you love them all so much already🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞

hehehehehe hiiiiiiiiii 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 thank u pinterest and thank u jess-brain for the cutie hotchner boys thought!!!! 🤭🤭💕💕💕💕💕 fr fr thats husband and son!!!! 🥹🥹🥹💗💗💗

teeniest tiniest boy ever :(((((( being sooooooo proud of his daddy and sooooooo happy when his daddy lays the medal around his neck 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and he immediately turns to giggle to you “it’s so heavy!!!” which makes you grin so big and squish his lil cheeks “that’s because you’re so little!” and aaron watches the whole thing with the biggest most heart-eyed grin Ever! which of course makes penelope squeal loud enough to make every racer and their friends/family in the vicinity glance over at your little group all curiously 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 and after you smooch smooch smooch your sweaty handsome darling aaron, that sweet blonde angel penny gloms onto you immediately and with the help of the little hotchner bug in your arms, she gets the whole story of how you and aaron met and fell in loooooooove 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 hehehe at some point when the team all realize that penny’s interrogation of you (with questions and comments sprinkled in by the whole team who are All very curious about you 🤭) is not going to end soon, rossi suggests drinks and dinner at his mansion!!!! you’re very excited because you’ve heard Many Many stories of bau parties and rossi’s home from your hotchner guys but aaron sighs all dramatically because he is Sweaty (which of course makes you giggle and smooch his cheek as you hum “but you’re cuuuuuute” and he’s immediately placated 🤭😌 also rossi says he can shower at his place AKDHDKDJSKSKS) but you and jack are happy so he’s happy to go hang out with the team and tell silly stories about you and him when you first started dating 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 it’s still kinda early in the evening at rossi’s but sweet lil jack is already snoozing and snoring in your arms (because he was up Late the night before making a poster for his dad) and you keep seeing aaron hiding snores behind his Big hand because he’s soooooo tired after working so hard that day :( so you hug everyone and tell them you’re taking your boys home (which makes them all 🥹💕 because they Love knowing that someone who loves them so much is taking care of them 🥺) and when you get them home and get aaron into bed so you can kiss his sleepy face and murmur over and over how proud of him you are and how happy you are to have met his people who are so so important to him (and now to you too!!!!!!) and all aaron can think as you fall asleep snuggled into his chest with your hand resting over his heart and his ring on your finger while he plays over the whole day in his head is that he can’t Wait for you to be his wife and he can’t believe how unbelievably grateful he is that you’re in his (and jacks 🤭🥹🥰💗) life 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭💞💞💞💞💗💗💗💗💗💗🥰🥰

[sharedramblings]

Part of the Night

Summary: What sharing a bed with Miranda would entail.

Author's note: Miranda is the babygirl, so yeah. Also, can this be considered as a headcanon?

—-—-

Miranda is a cuddle bug. That's an established fact that was soon reaffirmed when you two decided to sleep in the same bed together.

If she sees you're already in bed, she will excitedly walk whatever distance was left to lay with you.

It's honestly her favorite way of ending the day. Curled up on your side, that is.

So you best believe that cuddles will always be a part of the night. It's most likely the highlight of it too.

On a normal day, you two still have a half and an hour or so before either of you fall asleep. The time will trickle either with Miranda regaling you stories about whatever she can think of or with light and nonsense conversations about anything that the both of you deem interesting to dive in.

Even then, the constable has her arm around your midsection, tracing lazy patterns on your side.

Or she's holding your hand, caressing up and down alternately in your arms and at the back of your hand.

She goes for whatever she feels like doing at that exact moment. Whatever satisfies her craving of feeling your warmth.

The short-haired blonde eats any position that either of you found yourselves tangled in when sleepiness seeps in.

If she's the big spoon, whatever floats your boat is a-okay.

You wanted to face her and hug her too? Come here and be so intertwined with her as best as you can. Make sure there's no space between you two or she will deal with it herself.

You feel like laying in the same direction she does? Then you can bet that the moment you're comfortable, she'll burrow her nose on top of your head to smell the faint scent of your shampoo, pulling you closer to her by your tummy.

You want to lay on your back? Miranda will let you, and one of her hands will rest on your sternum, and her legs will get tangled with yours. You will get locked in the warmth of her touch, and there's no escape. Not that you're planning something so absurd and ridiculous yourself.

You prefer being face-planted on your pillow? That's not a problem. She will place her thigh on your lower back, just right above your ass, and her arm will be attached to yours, her pinky intertwining with yours.

While she doesn't have a problem being the big spoon, she's much more ecstatic on being the little spoon!

Especially if she's stressed, or upset, or sad, or tired, or–

Your hugs are the best cure for all of it

The next ones are a cigarette and some ranting and pacing, of course.

Whatever mood she's in, if she's the little spoon, she will take advantage of it! Always!!

You have to check whether something's wrong if she isn't acting like a child who's top one wish was about to get fulfilled.

She will help you secure herself in your embrace.

Holding your arms in place, just for additional measure.

Miranda will scoot closer until there's no wiggle room to do so.

She will bury her head in your chest if she's facing you. You don't have any idea just how much she loves squishing her face in your skin.

Or nuzzle on the crook of your neck because it's such a great place to be in, and she's surrounded by your presence and scent and warmth and–

If you start rubbing at her back, or her waist, or wherever your hands found themselves situated in, she will sigh.

The featherlight touch is relaxing her in an instant. There's nothing better than this.

Kiss her and then everything feels right and complete.

How dare you be so loving.

"Do it again."

And you will. Because she deserves it. Because she looks at you hopefully. Because she got the brightest biggest widest smile on her adorable cute round face. And never ever did you want to be the reason it will vanish in an instant.

Her favorite position though is when her head is laying in your chest, and you wrap both of your arms around her.

She can hear your heart beating in her ear, sort of feel its rhythmic beat. It's really calming.

She can listen to it all night long.

Oh, and half of her body is resting on yours. Like, drape over you.

Something that got a lot of getting used to.

The constable is afraid she'll hurt you, knowing she's heavier than you, but after many and constant reassurances, she took your word for it and went on with it.

And she immediately realize it'll be her favorite yet.

There's nothing else she could ask for to make everything sweeter–

But then you decided to gently massage her scalp and play with her short blonde hair, fingers threading through her head.

And she knew it made everything even better.

Literally don't you even think of stopping slightly if your movements still hasn't put her to sleep. Or she will let you hear of her dissatisfaction oh so clearly, and she will continue to do so until you pick up where you left off.

But even when the cuddles are amazing, it isn't realistic to maintain it all throughout the night.

That isn't possible.

Well, it is if you want to have some part of your body aching when you wake up.

Which you two aren't really keen of.

But as soon as the adorable blonde girlfriend you have stirred from her slumber, and notices the distance created from when you're both deep asleep, she will immediately, yet sleepily, remedy that.

She will groggily snuggle closer to you.

Or reach her arm out to scoop you closer.

In case it's you who rouses from sleep in the middle of the night with space between your bodies, your go-to is almost always shuffling to get back to her space, squishing yourself on Miranda's body.

Or blindly look for your hands so she can hold it in hers.

Or lay her long legs on yours in a comfortable position.

Whatever brings back touching you.

Unconsciously or if pulled out of sleep slightly enough, the other is sure to react to the movement, helping close the distance off again.

Cuddling is a must! A staple! A necessity for a good night's sleep. And the only thing that can momentarily tamper it down is the summer heat.