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tryskomys · 8 days

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Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 4 - Watermelon In Easter Hay

Summary: you get me. that’s why.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter foooour! disclaimer: this one is quite tough, so be careful about the tw’s and look out for each other, guys <3 tough times always end and we come out the other way stronger than ever before.

tw: a lot of hurt. mentions of the thing that rhymes with kegs, brief mentions of drug abuse, addiction, brief hint at s*1c1de, description of panic attacks/trauma dissociation. comfort.

i promise that the next one will be so agressively fluffy you’ll drown in it.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Somehow, time suddenly started to pass quicker than usual, especially in the context of prolonged winter nights.

The number of oat milk lattes pressed was slowly rising into the low hundreds over the next three weeks, the lunch feasts weren’t as flashy as the first time - it was more of a lunch snack split between three people.

But Kiki didn’t mind.

I could get used to this.

The mantra played on a loop in her head when she got up each morning, the entire bike ride to the parking lot, the whole walk from there to the café.

She was so excited about getting used to this that despite her crippling insomnia, she began to arrive to work about half an hour before Jeff, who was a self-proclaimed morning bird.

She just couldn’t wait.

To get there and wipe the tables. To scribble the dailies on the menu blackboard. To hear Jeff’s adorable righteous fury when he started yapping about yesterday’s ball game - in fact, she was looking forward to learning all the details.

Most of all, though, to catch a flash of wild ruddy hair through the window and hear a knock on the door. See Stone shaking a paper bag in the air with a wide smile as she let him in, receiving a delightfully warm croissant and an even warmer hug.

“That, sir, is illegal. Do the higher-ups know that you’re nicking under their noses every day?”

“You said I’m a punk, I gotta protect my reputation.”

Still, the Christmas holidays couldn’t come fast enough. So, right after her last shift of the year, Kiki beelined to the laundromat to pick up her clothes as quickly as she could.

She stuffed the few pieces she had into her backpack and headed straight home. She was already running late to a meet-up with Stone back at Pioneer Square. It was the day of a long awaited holiday night-out.

When she got back to her apartment, she grinned as she rummaged a t-shirt out of the bag. It had a big Nets logo on the front. Jeff brought it to her yesterday, it still had a pleasant soapy scent.

“Don’t worry, it’s fresh from the laundry basket. It’s a bit big but it’ll do. Now that you’re starting to warm up to it, I have to sway you to the right team.”

“Jesus, Ames, you’re tasteless. Always with the propaganda. Let her form her own opinion.”

“You’re just mad that you didn’t get one.”

Kiki was giddy when she caught herself calling the unlikely duo ‘friends’ in her head.

I could get used to this.

She was whistling an Aerosmith song - another consequence of daily hanging out with Jeff - while she cuffed the baggy sleeves of her newly acquired NBA apparel.

Tightening the shoelaces of her combat boots, she softly cursed when she bent down - she felt a stab in her stomach. No lunch today.

It was the beginning of a holiday break, meaning all money goes to cheap beer and 3 a.m. Doghouse fries to-go.

And the rent was due.

No, asking him for another help-out isn’t an option. Not again. You won’t die if you only eat once a day for a week.

And besides, she was planning to return everyone’s hospitality by buying at least one round tonight.

The two of them had a rendezvous at the Off Ramp with Chris, Jeff and a couple of guys. A cherub-looking jester called Andy, who occasionally washed the dishes at the café, and Stone and Jeff’s sweet gangly bandmate, Bruce.

One thing she’d learned over her multiple visits to the Off Ramp - it was probably the worst excuse for a bar she’d ever seen.

The upside was that the music was impeccable and the alcohol was ID-free.

That was about it.

First of all, it was Stone’s money laundering headquarters. He lured in unassuming patrons to make bizarre bets with him while knowing the payoff like the back of his hand.

His favourite was guessing how many dead cockroaches there were next to the vodka shelf - it was usually between five and eight.

One of the most successful schemes so far was when he got a group of French girls to each bet a shot that Matt from Soundgarden would break a stick within the first song.

He broke two in the first thirty seconds.

Stone won four shots and Kiki mocked him for missing out on an ‘authentic French kiss’ when he turned his cheek as one of the girls went in for a passionate bonus prize.

Plus, only she knew that he’d sneaked backstage before the show to file a weak spot in four of Matt’s flimsy drumsticks - she was the one guarding the back room so no one would walk in on him.

Jeff, meanwhile, was an angel. Carefully watching everyone’s drinks so they wouldn’t get spiked, something that was sadly a common occurrence in the sweaty dim hell hole. Always ready to light anyone’s stick of choice. Rocking out to every song with identical enthusiasm, even if he’d heard it thirty times over.

But even the most joyous of companies couldn’t deny the fact that a certain degree of thick skin was needed to snake through the narrow corridors.

All the vomit stains and broken bottles on the carpeted floors sometimes called for nearly athletic skills.

There seemed to be a different kind of bodily fluid for every inch of the dancefloor. On top of that, it was all lousily enlightened by a disco ball that was threatening to fall apart at any moment.

If you wandered too close to the supposed kitchen, the stench was so pungent it must’ve caused at least one nosebleed over the years in service.

The women’s restrooms were desolate. There was more piss on the floor than in the actual toilet bowls, powder sprinkles of questionable origin were scattered around the sinks and the mirrors were broken, barely functional and always covered in lipstick stains and sweaty handprints.

And the guys that had - for obvious reasons - visited both, swore that the men’s room was far, far worse.

In other bars around Seattle, it wouldn’t be shocking to accidentally stumble upon some couple enjoying their date in a bathroom stall. Here, it was less common.

You were more likely to bump into them right in front of the restrooms, blocking the way in.

To spend a night out at the Ramp was a truly authentic pagan experience.

I could get used to this.

Kiki opted for leaving her bike at home and took in a deep breath of the frosty air as she strolled through the busy streets of Chinatown.

The sun was long gone and a fog settled over the roads, so she clutched her crochet bag closer and tried to warm up by folding her arms.

Andy, who was fronting another domestic band, had an enchanting voice and Bruce was already a solid third cog in a well-synergized string faction of Green River.

So the five of them were planning to jam as soon as possible.

But something always came up. Christmas was around the corner and everybody took more shifts at work to afford the luxuries of holidays.

That was twice as true for musicians - none of them simply had time to focus on music, hence her lack of session gigs. Her excitement was immeasurable, though.

To play with like-minded people, finally able to express herself however she wanted.

Unable to sustain a minute of peace, though, her brain always came up with pointless arguments.

Can I express myself, though? ‘Myself’ is not nearly good enough to keep up with them.

With him.

I wonder how he feels music. Does he hunch? Bop his head? Jump around or just sway?

Are his eyes closed? He seems like someone who would mouth along with his riffs. Nerd.

Can't really imagine how he touches the strings, though. Maybe he does a lot of slides.

Heavy and slow. Teasing.

That sounds like him.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Baby, do you own a watch? I’ve been waiting here for like fifteen minutes,” Stone muttered through chattering teeth when she finally arrived at their meeting spot, startling her out of her thoughts. “I’m pretty sure this is frozen solid, along with my balls.”

Kiki already recognized the paper bag he was clutching.

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion when he waved his wrist in front of her face to show her the time and then gave her a bone-crushing hug.

“God dammit, I forgot to wind it. Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest, a flaming blush prickling her icy ears.

The scent of fresh pastries and cinnamon still lingered on his sweatshirt.

“What’s the ruckus?” she let him go and immediately checked her watch to twist the little winding wheel.

“Huh? Oh, I was running late in the morning so I couldn’t stop by. I grabbed it on my way home at least, don’t wanna lose my stealing streak,” he shrugged as she took the bag from him and they both set off.

“Ah, you’re a saint, Stoney. I’m so hungry I could eat a fucking horse,” she breathed out puffs of fog.

“Ames and I were wondering where you got lost. Thought you had slipped on ice and fallen into a ditch,” she huffed. She struggled to keep up with his brisk tempo and munch on her cold cinnamon roll at the same time. “I had a cake in mind, you know, to bring to the hospital.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmpf. All pink with big chocolate letters on top,” she mumbled through a mouthful of food, waving her hand in the air to mime handwriting. “'Good riddance.'”

He scoffed, reluctantly chomping down when she offered him a bite.

“Slow down or you’ll choke. I don’t wanna spend the night with my hand down your throat,” he chuckled, slightly concerned by the sheer speed of her eating.

“You said you had a first-aid course, no? Time to put your money where your mouth is,” she muttered again and gulped down the last bite.

The Ramp was packed to the brim, but it wasn’t hard to find the colourful cast of friends, even in the dim orange light.

Chris and Bruce towered over the sea of people like long-haired maypoles, passing a joint to Jeff. He was wearing a bright purple hat with an orange bow - an extravagant wizard. And as they got closer, Andy, who was a lot shorter than the three of them, surprisingly stood out even more. Unmistakable with his furry white coat and bright red lipstick.

Stone, in his kaleidoscope vest, was holding her hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. Her fingers were still cold as ice, but somehow they warmed him down to the marrow of his bones.

Unbeknownst to her, his mind worked in similar patterns to hers.

I could get used to this.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“…they’ve been away for a month, so, obviously, I was salivating for all the details, shivering like a fucking Chihuahua. And then he just stepped out of his ugly station wagon, stinking like rotten eggs and with a bloody scratch on his cheek, like, this big,” Andy colourfully explained, raised his little finger to illustrate and continued.

“Gave me that fucking blank stare of his and asked me if I knew that Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.”

Kiki rolled her eyes and puffed out a laugh. Somehow, her conversation with Andy derailed to the story of Green River’s disasterous DIY tour.

“Jeez…what a sweet talker,” she scoffed, her grin growing wider when Andy’s baby blue eyes popped open as he vehemently nodded.

“And I was like…no?” he raised his knitted eyebrows and shook his head. “And he shrugged and went: ‘Well, Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.’ And didn’t say a word for the rest of the day.”

“Pfft, he just wanted to be mysterious,” Kiki snorted, taking a swig of her beer.

There seemed to be a pattern, though.

Observing him for the past month, she’d noticed that Stone sometimes switched into a completely different person. Especially when getting into specific topics.

Usually hard drugs, relationships and politics.

The sarcasm suddenly became borderline cruel, not playful. And his cool punky attitude felt stoic and alien.

“Had to question Ames afterwards, because Stoney just. wouldn’t. talk. about it. He just does that sometimes. Nomen est omen, I guess,” Andy chuckled, confirming her suspicion.

“Unresolved childhood trauma, maybe?” she shrugged and took a swig of her beer.

I recognize that one from a mile away.

“Nah, the Gossards are the sweetest sweethearts of all the sweethearts ever,” Andy shook his head. His chubby cheeks were flushed from the shots of tequila Stone had been supplying all night.

A bunch of tourists were in the house, which meant a fruitful playground.

“I think he was just born that way.”

“Heartless?” Kiki scoffed, her smile widening when she caught Stone giving her subtle thumbs up from the bar.

The bartender was already pouring another round. Stone grinned when she returned the gesture and then started wiping off a lipstick stain on his cheek with a slightly disgusted expression. Andy smirked.

“Composed,” he shrugged.

“Weeeell, a little detached.”

“…practical,” he added, biting his cheek to contain laughter. Kiki squinted at him and shook her head.

“Yeah, bullshit. I still smell trauma,” she mumbled, gulping down another sip.

A question was playing around her head for some time. And now seemed to be the perfect moment to ask.

Because if Stone was the resourceful little shit of the group, Andy was the all-knowing chatterbox.

“Did that guy ever manage to keep a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, once,” Andy replied, playing around with the squeezed slice of lime in his empty shot glass.

“There we fucking go! The enigma of Stone Gossard solved! Good job, my dear Watson,” Kiki slapped her thighs, raising her bottle to clink Andy’s empty glass. He giggled like a child. Different people had different reactions to her dry English attitude.

Jeff seemed to have an open mind despite clearly not getting it.

Chris usually gave her disarming smiles, probably taking it for a cute younger-sister quirk.

Stone was…well, Stone about it. Never missing a beat to shoot back at her like he had been deprived of an arguing partner for his whole life.

And Andy always rewarded her with the most angelic giggles she’d ever heard.

“…well? Spill the beans!” Kiki nudged him, leaning a bit closer on the bar table. Andy dismissively waved her off.

“Oh, I don’t like to gossip…” he nonchalantly shook his head.

They stared at each other with wide eyes before bursting into wild cackles, getting a few confused looks from people around them.

When Andy was done with his adorable snorts, he cleared his throat.

“Okay, so, way back in…’84 methinks. Her name was Tara, she was from Utah or Alabama or…whatever, who gives a shit. Anyway, very religious family, Mormons I think, you know how they do it down there,” he theatrically shivered with disgust and continued.

“However. Stoney’s brash mouth could seduce a fucking saint. I’ve heard it rumoured that she screamed for Jesus the first time he -“

“Woah, okay, okay, no, thanks. I get it, please spare me,” she scowled and plugged her ears.

She hoped that Andy wouldn’t notice the raging blush that rapidly filled her entire face, but he was very hard to fool.

“I know you wanna hear all of it -” he smirked, “- but very well. Anyway, he was completely smitten. Treated her so right, didn’t give her any of that shithead attitude.”

That sounds terrifying.

“All of a sudden like a lamb. It was terrifying.”

“Bet,” Kiki snorted and bit into the rim of her bottle to tame the growing smirk on her face. “And how was she?”

“Apparently, not bad,” he mused, giggling again when her eyes widened and she threateningly lunged forward.

“Sorry, sorry,” he raised his arm in defence and took a few seconds to compose himself. “Well, once he helped her out of her redneck shell, she was, uh, how do I put it…”

“A cool girl?” Kiki shrugged and took a swig.

“An insufferable bitch,” he deadpanned and the beer flew out of her nose. He gave her some time to wipe her mouth and continued in a slightly sombre tone.

“She cheated a whole lot, probably wanted to try out as much as she could, now that she’d realized that God can’t make her cum,” he explained, making her snort again.

Fucking hell. This clown. I love him.

The way the story was going, though, her enjoyment slowly faded.

“You know that he’s a tease. And sometimes girls mistake his sarcasm for flirting.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

"So she used to make out with people right in front of him just to make him jealous,” Andy scowled and she mirrored his expression.

“Oof. How long did that go on?” Kiki asked, not even sure if she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Her gaze trailed off to Stone’s grin as he was handing a shot to Bruce a few feet away from them. Now, there was something behind his smile that she hadn’t noticed before.

“About a year and a half or something, on and off,” Andy’s voice snapped her back to the conversation. “Then she broke up with him and went back home. I bet she married her cousin or something.”

Kiki scoffed and shook her head. She wasn’t sure how to comment on it, so she let Andy finish his story, even though she regretted even asking for it.

“He was devastated after all that, barely talked for weeks. I think he secretly used to be a romantic, but she kinda sobered him up from that whole ‘soulmate’ thing. I don’t think he’s dated anyone else since,” he ended with a shrug, mindlessly biting into the lime he fished out of the shot glass.

It seemed like he was trying to lighten the mood, his face twisting into a scrunched grimace.

“A Greek tragedy, really,” she followed his suit, letting out a bleak chuckle.

Andy waved his hand and swallowed a few times to push the sourness down before continuing in a slightly slurry voice.

“No, seriously. It kinda makes me sad. Actually, I think I haven’t seen him kiss a girl since then, you know?”

And you dare to laugh at me, beanpole?

“Yeah, he flirts and sleeps around, but he never kisses anyone on the lips,” Andy added, shrugging. “Maybe it’s some kind of a self-defence mechanism, I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on behind that huge forehead of his.”

Oh.

“Like, he enjoys the one-night-stand-thrill or whatever but also doesn’t like it when girls touch him. And I mean touch as in this -” he reached out, patted Kiki’s shoulder and then rubbed her back. “-right?”

…yeah. But…

“Cringes at hugs and stuff, but once he’s enough inches away and certain that they're into it, he doesn’t have a problem with straight up telling them he wants to fuck their brains out,” Andy shook his head. “And somehow, it works. Sometimes I wonder if he’s even from the same planet.”

“I mean, that makes two of us, the hugging thing. But he does it whenever we meet anyway, so there’s a scoop for you,” Kiki tried to sound as careless as possible, kicking back the rest of her beer in one swell swoop.

“It’s different with you, you’re like his little Pooky bear,” Andy smirked, lacing his fingers under his chin. She snorted and raised her eyebrows.

“A what?”

“Pooky. You know Garfield, right? The comics?”

When Kiki shook her head with a curious smile, Andy gasped.

“What?! Sarcastic little shit of a cat who hates everyone but his teddy bear Pooky? And Pooky always pretends that he’s just a toy and then suddenly moves and rearranges stuff just to fuck with Garfield’s head?” he babbled, wildly gesturing.

“That sounds deranged. I love it,” she giggled, still unconvinced about the metaphor.

“Oh man, I grew up on that. I still have a stack of ‘em at home, I’ll borrow you some!” he enthusiastically grabbed her hand. “Then you’ll see why you’re Pooky.”

“I’d love that. And I truly admire that you make everything sound like a compliment,” Kiki grinned.

“It is,” Andy shot back, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. She scoffed.

“Pretty sure that just means he doesn’t view me as a potential fuck.”

He squinted and tipped his head to the side like a puppy.

“Yeeeeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Just between us,” she interrupted him, “I’d admit that it hurts my ego, but I’m too vain. Guess I’m not his type.”

“Does he have a type? I haven’t noticed, maybe I’ve been around him for too long,” he chuckled, taking another pointless bite of the lime as if he was trying to suck out the last drops of tequila.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, they’re usually tall, sporty and sweet,” she counted on her fingers and then shrugged. “Then again, who’s type isn’t tall, sporty and sweet?”

Andy's toothy grin widened.

“Seems like your type is lanky, malnourished and sardonic.”

No.

“Yeah, no. I don’t - nope. Let’s cut this conversation before it starts, please,” she wiggled her finger at him, eyebrows knitted. His smile got even brighter.

“Why not, Pooky?” he pressed, grabbing her hand again. “You’re the only person I know who clicked with him without wanting to knock his teeth out first. And he’s into it.”

It sounds so easy when you say it.

“Because I don’t want to. And neither does he. I’m certain that we both like it just the way it is, trust me.”

Shit, he doesn’t trust me.

“You think I don’t know that you’re fucking on the side?” he exclaimed so loud Kiki had to bang her forehead against the bar table to hide her face from the people turning their heads.

“Jesus Christ, Andy! You’re disgusting,” she hissed when looked up, scowling.

His smile was omnipresent, though.

If Stone was the Roman statue, Andy was the Harlequin.

“Well, are you?”

“NO!”

“Not yet, you mean,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to contain another brewing giggle.

“Not yet, not tomorrow, not ever. Okay? I’m done with this topic, you clown, let’s move on,” Kiki reached out and softly pushed him.

Andy didn’t seem too keen on moving on, though, as his shoulders shook with a cackle.

“Have you ever stopped to think why he stares at your lips when you’re babbling? ‘Cause I have, Pooky,” he raised his index finger and tapped on her forehead to make the wrinkles between her eyebrows disappear.

All the other guys were on their way back to them, their laughs nearing Kiki’s ears as Andy whispered with a sly grin.

“It’s because you’re not his type.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“I think I need a shot of bleach,” Kiki’s raspy voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

She left the group to get a beer, but before she could push her way back through the crowd, everyone except Stone had already scattered around the bar again.

He was startled when she walked straight up to him and slammed her forehead against his chest.

Unprovoked touching? This is new. I could get used to this.

“What’s up?” Stone chuckled, hoping that the sound of his heartbeat would get drowned in the loud buzz around them.

Kiki just slammed her head into his ribcage again and took a moment to shiver off some sort of disgust.

She raised her hand without a word and stuck a jumbo shot of vodka in his face. Snickering, he reluctantly took it and she finally looked up.

Her fae-like features were twisted in a comical grimace, mixing both amusement and repulsion.

“I just walked past Mike from Alice. Nailing a chick, that blonde exchange student -“

“Shocking! Your first time seeing a cock?” he interrupted with a brash grin, but his expression froze when she finished her sentence.

“- against the kitchen door.”

“Wh-what?! The kitchen?” he stuttered out, slowly breaking into a scowl identical to hers. Kiki vehemently nodded.

“Fuck. That’s rancid,” Stone choked out and fiercely kicked back the vodka. His nose wrinkled in a signature scrunch.

“I was trying to run past it as fast as I could, but I was so perplexed by them that I stopped by and kinda gave him a -“

She took a step back from Stone and demonstrated her best judgemental glare, raising her eyebrows as far as they could go.

“And I shit you not, he stared me dead in the eye for like ten seconds and then just turned around -” she mimed holding someone’s ass in her arms and spun around, “- and continued like I wasn’t there.”

Stone’s cheeks puffed with a laugh and he nonchalantly shook his head, but his ears started to burn red because of her vivid description. And he couldn’t stop his intoxicated mind from wandering.

Get it together, asshole. Not her. She made that very clear.

“I mean, maybe he wanted to give her a proper Ramp experience...” he shrugged, trying to focus on anything else than the glistening sweat on her flushed cheeks.

Kiki scoffed and took a swig of her beer before folding her arms.

“Yeah, but the kitchen?! I mean, you wouldn’t do that. You’re an A-grade slut, but at least you’re a gentleman, too.”

Just let her have the last word. It’s so easy. For once in your life, just shut the fu-

“Depends on the company. You, I’d even take inside the kitchen if I had to.”

But instead of scolding himself, Stone’s mind filled up with confidence as the vodka spilt through his brain cells and his lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

Stop lying to yourself, Gossard. Don’t act like you don’t get off on this shit.

Kiki raised an eyebrow and seemed to genuinely ponder if he was being serious, but she quickly brushed off her momentary lapse of judgement with a sharp scoff.

“Fine, from now on I officially don’t believe anything that comes out of this filthy cakehole,” she shook her head and reached up to poke his mouth.

Surprised by her own audacity, she tapped her finger on the small dimple in the middle of his bottom lip. “Don’t slip on the cum-stained floor when you go wash it out with soap.”

She held it there, basking in the crackling sensation that pulsed from his soft skin through her calloused fingertip.

When Stone took a tiny step back, darting across her face with an unreadable expression, she froze. Her hand hung in the air as his eyebrows twitched into a minuscule frown.

After a moment far too long for her comfort, she jumped when he lunged forward and bit her finger, cursing under her breath.

He was cackling as he ruffled her hair, Kiki slapped his hand away and rubbed on the bite mark on her knuckle.

Even though Stone’s shoulders were shaking with giggles, there was a clear shift in his demeanour. He firmly folded his arms and took another step back, clearing his throat.

He knew she’d noticed.

Yeah, right, big guy. So much for ‘put my money where my mouth is’. Idiot.

“Fuck, great, now I have rabies,” Kiki muttered, studying her finger in the dim light as she gave him a side-eye, trying to hide a smirk.

Stone chuckled and scratched his forehead.

What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? A girl has touched you before. A lot of them did. She’s just another one. Just a girl. Just…

“What’s wrong? Am I foaming at the mouth already?” Kiki gasped, staring him down with a quizzical brow.

Why does she...strange. So, so strange.

All he managed to do was shake his head and try to put on an unbothered grin.

Snap out of it, you dumb fuck.

“Cat got your tongue?” she quipped, scoffing when he didn’t answer.

“Silent treatment, that’s new. And weird. I already miss your yapping,” Kiki shook her head and watched Stone’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He took a breath to speak, swiftly easing back into his smart-ass mode.

“Woah, woah, okay. Spoke too soon. Tell you what, I’ll go powder my nose and in the meantime, you can try to think of something funny to say,” she handed him her beer and patted his warm cheek. “You can do it, pretty boy, I believe in you.”

And with that, she disappeared, the crowd swallowing her small stature like an ocean wave. Stone luckily found an empty spot in the hoard of people next to the wall.

He leaned on it and banged his head against the uneven bricks.

You’re in deep shit, friend.

● ● ● ● ● ●

Five minutes passed. Then ten. After twenty, Stone’s impatient foot tapping caused a cramp to shoot through his calf, so he cursed and kicked the air a few times to shake it off.

Jesus, did she get flushed down the drain?

He wasn’t paying any attention to the shaggy-haired surfer dude in front of him. Stone somehow found himself in a conversation with him - he just appeared out of nowhere and started yapping on and on about how the bars are worse around Sunset Boulevard.

Ever the businessman, Stone took the opportunity to bet a shot that they would see at least a trio of cockroaches throughout the night.

Of course, he knew that even three was an outstandingly small number.

I’ll go check on her.

He excused himself and assured the guy that he would be back to collect his prize. He snaked through the entire bar, looking for her in every dark corner of the place.

He even tried knocking on the women’s room and calling after her, peeking in when a chirping group of girls allowed him to do so ‘if he really is Stoney’.

But she was nowhere to be found. The last place he didn’t check was a small patio behind the back door, usually a spot one went to when they wanted to fuck a stranger.

Nah, she just needed a breather alone. Or with the discount Steven Tyler that’s been eyeing her from the barstool all night.

Fuck, what do I care?

He liked to think that he had the talent to stomach anything with a straight face, but an unfamiliar burn settled in his lungs as he made his way through a narrow corridor leading to the door.

This is a bad idea. Turn around and leave. Go count cockroaches or something.

He passed a couple that was shamelessly slamming against the wall with dull thuds, but it didn’t phase him at all.

He was too busy fighting his hazy brain, trying to coax his limbs to beeline back inside.

But he couldn’t stop himself as he took the shabby door handle and pushed the metal door open with a loud creak.

Maybe he’d take the scene of her pinned against the dirty bricks by someone else than him over whatever he just walked into.

Kiki was lying on the filthy concrete, curled up in a fetal position and shaking. She was holding a fading cigarette between her cramped fingers, hot ash falling on her red knuckles with every sob she let out.

Stone didn’t think twice about dropping down to his knees and hovering above her, little rocks and rubble stabbed his skin through the holes in his jeans.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What - what’s wrong, Baby?” he stuttered as he pulled to sit her up and shuffle to the wall to rest her back against it. She immediately hugged her knees, avoiding his eyes like a plague.

She was hyperventilating, tears streamed out of her puffy eyes and fell on the snot-stained Nets t-shirt.

He crouched in front of her and tried to take the cigarette away so it wouldn’t burn her. But her hand twitched and the cramp intensified, so he put his hands on her knees instead, cautiously caressing her.

“It’s f-fine, let m-me be. I’ll c-come inside i-in a sec,” she hiccuped, shuffling away when he moved to sit down next to her.

He carefully hugged her around the shoulders and pressed her to his chest. She was still shaking with rapid breaths, but her body slowly collapsed closer to him.

Stone felt his limbs tingle with an alien sensation, almost as if he’d never touched a woman before. Like an eerie fever dream.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“No, I’m…I’m okay, t-this h-happens sometimes…s-sorry,” she mumbled again, resting her forehead on her knees. His heart dropped.

“Did someone hurt you?” he questioned, trying to lift her chin to see if her face was in one piece.

“No, no, it’s nothing, I just…just l-leave me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” she choked out and let him take a look. After sparing him a brief glance, Kiki shook his hand off and hid behind her hair again.

She didn’t have any bruises, only cracked lips from all the salty tears.

“What happened? Who hurt you? Tell me, please,” he pressed, reaching up to stroke her hair.

“No one, I’m n-not hurt…it’s fine. Just go,” she repeated like a broken record, but he noticed that she began to melt into his arms and finally dropped the cigarette butt on the ground.

“I’m not leaving you.”

That brought a new wave of shivers and he desperately clutched her closer to make her warm.

Neither of them was wearing a jacket or a sweater, so he didn’t have much to work with. It still seemed to help, though, as her breathing slowly calmed down.

“What’s up, Baby?” Stone whispered after a long moment of silence, disturbed only by her fading sobs.

“I-it’s just…it’s me, I’m sorry. I’m just a sissy.”

She took a long pause to breathe in and cleared her hoarse throat.

“I, uh…I just saw some girls shooting up in the bathroom, that’s all. They offered me some, too, just as a cherry on top.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh. Did…did you -” he carefully started, still whispering. The implication brought a bit of fuel into her exhausted body, so she immediately cut him off.

“Fuck no. Christ, of course not."

Kiki sounded almost offended, so he quickly regretted even thinking about that option.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, I just…it’s not uncommon here…” Stone muttered with a bitter undertone in his voice. She took a big breath again.

“I know, it’s f-fucking everywhere. I don’t know what I was thinking…as if you could run away from drugs,” she lamented under her breath like she was scolding herself. “I guess I p-probably chose the wrong career. It j-just hit me more than it should’ve. Like I said, sissy.”

He wasn’t sure of what to say, so he just stared at the dirty ground in front of them. He realized there were multiple fresh-looking cigarette butts, she must’ve smoked a lot more before he arrived.

Kiki sniffed and wiped her wet nose with the back of her hand.

“It’s, uh…my dad, he…”

She took a moment to inhale a shaky breath.

“He was a smack addict, OD’d this spring. I didn’t know him that well, but, uh…I’ve seen that shit when he crashed at our place, you know…mom and I had this tiny little flat.”

She suddenly sounded clear and lucid, almost detached.

“I ran off as often as I could, slept at whatever place I worked at or in the school gym…I was probably the only kid that enjoyed going to school, ‘cause it meant I wouldn’t have to be at home. They both had a lot of friends over,” she scoffed. “Well, friends - dodgy old men and strung-out buddies with a pocketful of crack.”

She started picking on her cuticles and tore a hangnail, so Stone mindlessly reached out to stop her and started playing with the battered old ring on her middle finger.

“And mom was…she was ill. Real ill. You know, here,” she tapped her temple. “Got some of it from her, I think. Family heirloom.”

A few moments of tense silence and she continued.

“I guess they did love each other, in some ugly twisted way. In the end, she couldn’t bear to live without him,” Kiki mumbled the last part like she was talking to herself.

“So, uh…I kinda found myself alone in a dirty hole in the middle of East End with about fifty quid to my name…mom left me that,” she scoffed again, this time even sharper. “No note or anything, just that one fucking piece of worthless green paper.”

She sighed and watched his bony fingers slowly wiggle the ring left and right, slightly concerned that he didn’t speak yet.

Or move, for that matter.

“Dad’s cousin, Toby, moved here a long time ago. The only family I knew, so when it all happened, he tracked me down and said he’d take care of me. Got me a one-way plane ticket. A guitar case and these stupid dungarees,” she swabbed her nose again and wiped it on her pants to make a point. “That’s all I had on me.”

“What about him?” Stone suddenly asked, his voice eerily monotone.

“He recently moved to Aberdeen, but he still helps me with rent, even when I don’t ask. I try not to, obviously…I gotta look for something cheaper, ‘cause he’s already done enough, you know?“ Kiki waved her hand to try and loosen her shaking fingers. “Too much.”

She took a deep breath and fiercely shook her head.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to just…shit, that was like an infodump from a bad movie,” she added and cleared her throat.

“Take it as a roundabout way of saying ‘run while you still can’,” she chuckled and tried to shuffle away, but Stone squeezed her closer.

A warm tear tickled her pale wrist, but it wasn’t one of her own. His breathing didn’t change, neither did his heartbeat or his stance.

Only the dull sound of teardrops falling on her skin as they dropped from the tip of his nose.

A Roman statue, weeping.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His voice didn’t indicate any sort of emotion, but it soothed her in a way she’d never felt before. She raised her eyebrows.

“Like, ever?” she huffed, trying to loosen the mood, but he stayed still.

“If that’s what you want,” he said and patiently waited for her reaction. When she didn’t give him one, he cleared his throat and finally moved to rest his head on top of hers.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

She scoffed.

“Only when I’m really riled up. News flash, it’s a nasty habit with zero benefits. Makes me even more poor, stinky and unhealthy.”

“A woman after my own heart," Stone nudged her shoulder, savouring the sound of her silent chuckle. "Just realized…I never asked you where you live.”

“At the corner of South Main and 17th Ave, next to Chinatown. A hovel, but there’s a bed and a bathroom and only I have the key. So I can’t complain,” she shrugged and continued. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Still costs an arm and a leg, though, so it’s only temporary. Too small to get a roommate. I mean, I prefer solitude anyway, but you can’t always get what you want.”

“You could live with me, you know. I mean, if you want. At my place,” Stone said after a long minute of silence, still fiddling with her ring. "Be alone together."

A breath hitched in Kiki’s throat and she furiously shook her head.

“No. No, no, thanks…thanks so much, Stoney, but no. That’s - that’s too much to ask for,” she began stuttering again.

Stone moved to look at her, but she was firmly fixated on the trashcan on the other side of the patio.

“You didn’t even ask for that,” he shot back, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but you’re already more hospitable than I deserve,” she replied and shook her head again. “And I doubt your parents would be chuffed about a sudden stray raccoon occupying their house.”

He briskly sat up straight and pushed away from the wall to face her.

"No, I’m serious. There’s a little brick shed behind the house, that’s where I live. I re-made it into a proper living space, isolated the walls and put electricity there. A bathroom with a tiny shower, a kitchen corner and a small electric cooker. Got my own door, my own key, it’s detached from the house,” he spewed out, suddenly more animated than she’d ever seen him.

“I pay my parents some rent, but once we split it, we'll have more money for music. Or you can pay a smaller half and cook dinner from time to time to make up for the rest.”

Stone didn’t even let her take a breath.

“There’s an attic above the room, like a little loft. I already put a permanent ladder there, but it just collects dust ‘cause I don’t have enough stuff to fill it up,” he continued and finally let go of her fingers, waving his hands around as if he were using an invisible broom. “We can clean it up and put up a bed for you, or I can move up there and you can sleep downstairs, whatever you like better.”

Kiki stopped him, more firmly than before.

“Stoney, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not? Like I said, if you want, there’s an unused space and I was looking for someone to take in anyway, to split the rent. It’s a little neighbourhood in Capitol Hill, ten-minute bike ride from Pioneer. Volunteer Park right under your nose,” he continued, like a dedicated salesman.

“I know all the nooks and crannies, there’s tons of cool bars and cheap food spots. When the mountain’s out, you can see the Needle.”

He paused and when she didn’t immediately shoot him down, he started pushing again.

“If you insist on paying rent,” he shrugged and she finally looked up at him, slightly frowning. Red eyes and a patchy blush, smudged eyeliner and parched lips.

And yet, she was the most breathtaking human he’d ever seen.

“…and I wouldn’t dare to try and stop you, we’ll split, fair share. More dough for guitar strings and beer for both.”

“It’s just…I’m not…” she stuttered but Stone didn’t let her finish.

“If you’re concerned about the size, it’s about 175 square feet, I can shrink my stuff as much as you need -“

“No, it’s not that, that’s bigger than my flat. I just…”

“I rarely bring girls there. And if I happened to do that, by any chance, I’d tell you before -"

“You’re too good to me.”

Silence fell between them once again. This time, though, it was different. His big, strange gaze swallowed Kiki whole as if she was seeing him for the first time again.

Stone darted across her face and stopped at a fresh tear forming in the corner of her eye. He reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, touch as light as a feather.

“It’s about time someone is.”

“Stoney, I want to be alone,” she barely whispered, studying his firm expression.

“So do I.”

She finally ran out of pointless arguments and, after a moment, slowly nodded in agreement. He mirrored her nod, peridot twinkling under the milky moonlit sky.

How could I say no to them?

“I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, show you around and you can decide if you like the look of it, okay?”

“Why?” she let the all-encompassing question hang in the air.

He sighed and rested his head on top of hers again.

“You get me. That’s why.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

#90s music #grunge fanfiction #mother love bone #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam imagine #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #stone gossard #band fic

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tryskomys · 16 days

Text

I’m a simple person: I hear a groovy bass line, I listen to the song 2359521706437821 times

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tryskomys · 19 days

Text

ATTENTION ALL OF TUMBLR!

THIS IS AN URGENT MESSAGE.

IN 2014, IN SCHAUMBURG , ILLINOIS, USA

THERE

WILL

TUMBLR CONVENTION!!!

THESE ARE THE WONDERFUL PEOPLE THAT ARE MAKING IT HAPPEN

SIGNAL BOOST THIS GUYS

I WANNA SEE EVERYONE THERE!!

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tryskomys · 2 months

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 3 - For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her

Summary: there’s a first time for everything.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter three is go! hope you enjoy the voyage through the start of the weird relationship between these punky dummies - you met a day ago, it’s not that deep. right? right?!

tw: weed, virginity talk, allusions to the word that rhymes with eggs. dreamy pining psychedellia.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

“Morning! What can I help you with?”

“I’ll have a latte, please. Do you have something else than milk, though?”

“Jeff? Do we have any oat milk left?”

“Yep, I just opened a fresh carton.”

“There you have it!”

“Great, I’ll take that, thanks.”

“That’ll be a dollar in total, please. One oat milk latte, Jeff!”

“Coming up.”

Just as Kiki took a dollar bill from the cute ginger girl in front of her, the front door swung open, sending in a swift of cold air.

It was Stone, excitedly waving a paper bag in the air. Her jaw dropped and she shook her head with a huff. Stone seemed out of breath as he ran up to the counter, fog still puffing out of his mouth.

“Here it is, milady, it’s still warm. My apple turnovers will burn if I don’t come back in ten minutes, so make it quick, please,” he spewed, leaning against the counter as he tried to catch his breath.

“You’re so weird,” was all Kiki stuttered out through giggles. That made a huge smile appear on his face, his eyes twinkling. She took the paper bag from him and peeked inside, sighing with contentment when the scent of freshly baked pastry filled her nose.

“Jeff! One cappuccino with an extra shot of spit, please,” Kiki called over her shoulder and Stone’s Cheshire cat grin grew even wider, chuckling. She scratched her forehead to hide her raging blush with her hair.

Jeff shook his head as if he was already over what he called ‘the Tom and Jerry on crack routine’ earlier. He gave her the ginger’s order and as Kiki handed her the oat milk latte, she noticed that the girl checked Stone up and down. And he gave her a little side-eye, smirking.

“Oh! Oh hey, Stoney! Haven’t seen you in ages, almost didn’t recognize you! Great hair,” the girl blurted out and went in for a hug. Stone seemed to know who she is, but Kiki could notice that he tensed up, clearly not too keen on hugging everyone he bumps into.

She felt some sort of twisted satisfaction when he awkwardly gave her a half-assed hug, but as soon as the girl let him go, it was as if a switch flipped in his brain. He eased again and folded his arms, as cool as ever.

“Mel, Mel, Mel…fancy seeing you here. Thanks, there was a sale on red box dye in CVS. Not like you need that,” he chirped and reached out to flick a strand of her hair, a sly smirk plastered on his lips. "You might find a few of us strolling around town."

Mel’s airy giggle rang through the room and Kiki darted between the two of them. The dynamic seemed to be slightly similar to the one she’d seen with the blondie last night. And once again, she couldn’t help but feel awful.

‘Kay, mate, I get it, you enjoy flirting with everybody else, but do you have to fling it in my face?

“There’s a rumour going around that you’ve dropped out and ran off with a travelling circus show. Disappeared for, like, what…” he continued, scratching his chin.

“I don’t know, five months? I just had tons of work for school so I wasn’t out much,” she shrugged. “I’m back now, though, Christmas break. So we can get the party started right where we left off,” Mel quipped and took a sip of her coffee, leaving a lipstick stain on the lid.

She looked at him through her lashes to emulate a ginger Bambi and he smirked, but his words were seeping with sarcasm.

“Can’t wait.”

Oblivious to his jab, she took another sip and asked Kiki for a napkin. Without leaving Mel out of her sight, she blindly reached under the counter, whipping out a tissue box.

Stone carefully observed the shorter woman in front of him, biting his cheek when Kiki put on a fake smile and theatrically presented the box to her.

“Hate to barge in on your planning session but I might need to serve another coffee, so I gotta ask you to move slightly to your left or right, depending on your preference,” she explained, moving her sardonic gaze to Stone.

He was already darting across her face with a cocky grin and he didn’t seem too phased. On the contrary, his scoff indicated that he was amused by her acidity.

“You still have my number, right? So that’s sorted,” Mel said after patting her lips dry as they shifted to the side.

Nobody was behind them, but Stone knew better than to comment on it. He knew Kiki’s frigid response would provoke another war for the last word.

“I keep it in a heart-shaped locket next to my bed, no worries,” he retorted and Mel blushed a little, putting a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Always the tease. Let me know then and we’ll figure something out,” she purred and took a look at her wristwatch. “Oh, gotta run. My class starts in half an hour. See ya, Stoney!” she went in for another hug and he lousily put his arm around her shoulders, his smile once again twitching with an uncomfortable cramp.

“Yeah, see ya,” he mumbled, giving her a jittery wave.

“Cheers, have a great day,” Kiki called after Mel as she walked away, narrowing her eyes at Stone when he turned back to her.

She took a big bite of her croissant, humming when Stone raised his eyebrows in question.

“Hm, it’s digestible.”

“Excuse me? We at Grand Central Bakery pride ourselves in the best pastries in town,” he shot back, shaking his head as he leaned on the counter. “I chose the crispiest one I had, don’t be a brat.”

Kiki dusted off a fleck of puff pastry that settled in the corner of her lips, ignoring the rush of blood that crept up her neck. She scoffed.

“You don’t strike me as a locket kinda guy.”

“I had to think of something,” he shrugged, fiddling with little clumps of wool on his left glove. She raised her eyebrows with a dramatic gasp and clutched her invisible pearls.

“So you’re saying you don’t have it?”

“The only things I keep next to my bed are a grass pipe and a mug that’s been collecting coffee debris for two months.”

That’s, uh…not surprising. Somehow. What the -

“I’ve seen her once at the Ramp and didn’t have the heart to turn her number down. She had cute handwriting,” Stone shrugged again, biting his lips to contain a grin when she let out a loud annoyed sigh.

“How chivalrous of you. Your turnovers are burning as we speak, so you should make like a Mel and disappear,” Kiki said as she took the coffee Jeff handed her. “One spit cappuccino to-go, that will be fifty cents.”

“It says a buck on the board,” he squinted at the menu and grabbed his cup. His freezing fingers brushed against Kiki's knuckles and she stifled a cough before taking another big bite of her croissant.

“You paid the other half in material goods,” she mumbled with her mouth full and stuck out her palm. Stone chuckled and fished a half-dollar coin out of his back pocket, theatrically slapping it on top of her palm.

“Should I make like a Mel and give you my number? As a little tip?” he grinned, taking a sip of his coffee as she raised her eyebrows.

“Tempting…but, no,” she gave him a mocking smile and tossed the coin into the cashier drawer. “I don’t have a locket to store such a valuable thing.”

Stone scoffed and mirrored her sarcastic smile, reaching over the counter to flick her nose. She slapped his hand away and tapped on her watch to remind him to leave.

“Touché. I’ll be waiting ‘til you get one,” he gave her a silly wink and whistled to get Jeff’s attention. “See ya at lunch, Ames.”

Jeff just quickly looked over his shoulder and continued to wash his hands in the sink.

“See ya, now go before they sack you,” he mumbled with a grin. Kiki gasped.

“Jesus, don’t give him ideas or we'll never get rid of him.”

Stone was already half out of the door when he gave her a middle finger, leaving his arm between the doorframe. He held it there until the door squished him and then snaked out, once again disappearing into the icy fog outside.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Precise like a Swiss clock, he came back to the café exactly at half past noon, just as Jeff reached the door to lock it for the lunch pause. He let Stone in, eyeing the bag in his hand with a gulp.

“I have arrived, children. Turkey salad sandwiches from Cyclops, fries to share,” Stone sharply exhaled when he walked in, slightly out of breath, and shook the plastic bag in the air. His hair was tied up in a neat ponytail, pointy ears red and tender from the frosty wind.

Kiki’s stomach growled on cue at the whiff of fries and Jeff whistled, reaching into the bag like a starved raccoon.

“Woah, fancy. Got your allowance, buddy?” he mused, chuckling when Stone softly slapped his cheek.

“Fuck off. Took three extra shifts last week to pay you back for the weed, asshole. You’re a spendy date,” he hissed and walked away from Jeff before he could finish taking his food.

He came up to Kiki and reached out to ruffle her hair, throwing his arm around her shoulders. As he led her to the back door, he called after Jeff. “Baby didn’t even want me to buy her a beer yesterday, you should take notes.”

Kiki chuckled and grabbed her leather jacket as they walked past the coathanger. A picture of his awkward wince at Mel's hug flashed through her head when he tugged on her hair as if it was the most natural move in the world, his cold fingers grazing her neck.

“Hungry?”

“Like a wolf,” she quipped back, chuckling when Jeff mocked Stone’s hair tug and yanked the bag out of his hands. He reached inside and chomped down a bundle of fries.

When they walked out, the cold air felt refreshing, in stark contrast to the overheated café. There was a small roof over the short staircase as well as a part of the patio.

It was quite clean and without any snow, so they all sat down in a circle and took their food, plopping the fry basket in the centre.

When Kiki took the first bite, it was a heavenly sensation. After days on crusty bread, the juicy salad and grilled turkey hit just the right spot. She closed her eyes and hummed, dipping a few fries into the signature Cyclops spicy mayo dip.

“My, my, Ames, I think she likes it,” Stone mused and she rolled her eyes, scoffing.

“I shall die and go to heaven, now. Bye,” she mumbled with her mouth full, resting her head against the brick wall.

Jeff laughed and reached into the inner pocket of his windbreaker. He grabbed a cigarette pack with three blunts and a lighter inside and offered it to Stone, who took one out and lit it. After he took a long drag, he handed it to Kiki, who just took a bite of her sandwich.

“I told you, it’s like sticking your head into a fratboy’s gym locker,” she shook her head and pushed his hand away.

Stone exchanged an amused look with Jeff as he passed him the joint and chomped down a bunch of fries.

“Oh, and I can’t jam today, gotta go get the knee checked for the last time,” Jeff shrugged as Stone shook his head. He wiped his hands on his jeans and loosened his scarf to scratch the back of his neck, just where the tips of his ponytail tickled him.

Jeff did a quick double-check between Stone and his food as he passed the joint back and prepared to take the first bite.

“Stoney. My dude. Is that a fucking hickey?” he gasped, breathing in a bit of toast.

Stone's eyes popped open as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water down his jacket and started feeling around his neck in panic.

“Huh? Where?”

“Holy shit, how old did you say you were?” Kiki scoffed, slapping her forehead when she leaned over to take a peek at the small purple bruise under his ear. “Fifteen?”

“Twenty-one?”

They spoke at the same time and Jeff started laughing at Stone’s sudden defensive body language, choking on his sandwich.

“I’ve seen worse, Kiki. One time, he ca-“

“Okay, okay, okay. Chill out or I’ll tell her why the hat stays on when you fuck,” Stone reached over to Jeff and slapped the back of his head, forcing the blunt into his mouth.

Jeff was still trying to cough out the piece of bread stuck in his throat, so he started wheezing even harder.

When Stone guaranteed that Jeff was properly shut down, he finally let him go and slapped his back a few times while taking a puff. His brawny friend finally calmed down after a minute of furious coughing, but he still didn’t lose the wide grin on his face.

“Jesus fuck, I need water. Be good,” Jeff stuttered and hopped up, disappearing behind the staff door.

A moment of slightly awkward silence passed as they exchanged a look, both eagerly trying not to burst out laughing. Stone tried to offer her the blunt once again, but Kiki took a bite of her sandwich instead.

With a little bit of luck, I’ll choke too and won’t have to look at you anymore. That would be cool.

“Pussy,” Stone huffed and broke into a wide grin when she gave him the finger. He sighed and leaned his back against the cold brick wall, crossing his legs as he chomped on a fry.

“So, you came here all alone?” he questioned, his face clouded by remnants of smoke.

“Yup. Free as a bird, I guess. Weehoo,” Kiki chuckled, wiping toast crumbs from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Not getting into that right now. Not when I have this glorious toastie in my hand.

Stone whistled.

“Left a strapping young lad named Arthur behind, I presume?”

“Do I really seem like a desirable object of attention?” she huffed, softly tugging on her freckled cheeks and pointing at her mismatched irises. He gave her a side-eye and took another fry.

“I mean…”

Stop taunting, asshole.

“Shut it. No, there was no Arthur to leave behind.”

“Tommy?”

“No.”

“Charlie?”

“No, there were no Tommies or Charlies or Henries, so save that.”

Stone shut his mouth and his eyes slowly widened as he sat up straight, taking the half-eaten fry out of his mouth. He stared at her for a few seconds before raising his eyebrows as far as they could go, his hand still hanging in the air.

“Uh, wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You mean…I’m sitting in front of a real, unadulterated Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not -“ Kiki interrupted him way too abruptly and shrugged so hard that a piece of turkey flew out of her sandwich. When his overwhelming stare grew even wider, she lowered her voice. “I’m not a virgin, okay?”

“Sure. And I am,” he snorted out a laugh and slapped his knee as if it was the most amusing information he’d ever learned. “Bet you never even kissed a guy, Mary.”

She kicked his shin as hard as she could, adding a weak punch to his bony shoulder. Stone just giggled again and his freckled nose scrunched.

Irresistibly irritating.

“Leave me alone! I have! I have kissed a guy, okay? Once or twice…or once,” she mumbled, getting more quiet as her excuses ran out. His jaw dropped.

“Holy. Shit.”

“Fuck off! It’s not fair to compare me to you, you’re a little whore!” she shrieked, her voice jumping a few octaves higher than usual. That made him laugh even harder.

“I’d take a whore over a Mother Theresa,” he shrugged and finally ate the cold fry he’d been squishing between his fingers. Kiki shook her mop of curls, trying to curtain her patchy cheeks.

“You know, Stoney, you talk a lot for someone who’s at an arm’s length from my virgin fists. So watch your mouth.”

He raised his hands in defence and bit his lips to contain the laughter. She threw him a scolding stare and took an angry bite of a big bunch of fries.

Stone inhaled to speak and she already raised her finger to shut him up, but he just wouldn’t let it go.

“You know, there’s two things I can’t stand in my proximity. Girls with freckles and virgins. And you’re sitting right in front of me.”

“Yeah? Tough shit, can’t do much about that,” she shot back, her mouth full of potatoes. He raised his eyebrows again, breaking into a poorly contained grin.

“Uh…I have a few ideas.“

Okay, now you’re crossing a line.

“You disgust me,” she coughed out after a few moments of chewing.

Stone just slowly took a big hit and lazily leaned closer to her. He puffed the thick cloud right into her face and a tingle ran through her vertebrae as if he shocked her with a taser.

Fuck. That’s impossible. He knows. He must know.

“Do I? Why are you blushing?” he added, voice hoarse from the smoke.

Kiki took a moment to compose herself, suppressing a sneeze that tickled her nostrils. She gulped down the fries, mindlessly staring at his smirking lips as she recalled her dream.

“Fucking hell. Your hubris is baffling, mate,” she muttered and cleared her throat to get rid of the strain in her vocal cords.

“My hubris is baffling? Golly gee shucks. I shall dub thee ‘granny’ instead of ‘baby’ if you keep talking like it’s the eighteen hundreds,” he calmly retorted, tipping his head to the side. “I’m just saying, if you ever need a friend to help out…”

Kiki scoffed.

“You know, this whole ‘sarcastic lanky stoner punk‘ shtick you got going on might work on girls around here, but I can see right through you,” she sneered, trying to show confidence in her words. “You’re like an annoying old book I’ve read ten times over. I’m in your fucking head, beanpole.”

“Yeah, you are,” he quietly quipped, tipping his head to the other side. Kiki raised her eyebrows.

“Stop staring at me like that.”

“Why?” Stone tipped his head again and put on an innocent pout, his eyes gleaming as if he flipped a light switch.

How the fuck does he do that?

“Because I don’t like it,” she weakly shot back.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

Neither of them moved an inch, though. And after a few moments of tense silence, she finally thought of an answer worthy of the personified mischief in front of her.

Payback, beanpole. Payback.

“Stoney, Stoney. My great-great-grandma used to have this saying. You know, in the eighteen hundreds,” she nonchalantly waved her hand and tipped her head as well, carefully taking the joint from his fingers.

“It went ‘Never trust a guy with a hickey,’” she mumbled and raised it to her lips. “‘…especially when he says he wants to fuck you real bad.’”

She finished by taking a deep hit and without a single blink, she blew the smoke in his face.

“And I’ve lived by that ever since.”

Before he could respond, she stuck the blunt between his lips, backed away and took another unassuming bite of her sandwich.

Stone’s eyes fluttered closed for a split second before he raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

Just as he took the joint out to shoot back at her, the metal door swung open and Jeff hopped off the small set of stairs, landing right between them.

“Ah, I could’ve died back there and you didn’t even come to check on me! Bet you were talking shit,” he chuckled and scooted over to his food, chomping on a few fries. “What did I miss?”

Stone stared at Kiki and she just shrugged, challenging him to answer. He blinked and then finally eased back into his immovable cool facade, scoffing.

He took a quick look at his watch and got up, unceremoniously putting the joint out on the door before slipping inside.

“Keeva is a virgin.”

She was carefully scanning the empty street for any signs of human appearance, but it seemed like this ghost town was empty.

What a haunting feeling.

She was evidently waiting for something - someone, anxiously tapping her foot in a steady rhythm.

It was the dead of night, soft snowflakes soundlessly floated around her and muffled all sounds of the darkness like weightless cotton balls. As if she was stuck in a crystal snow globe filled with ink.

Warm lamps stood along the pavement of what was eerily similar to Pioneer Square. They emanated a beautiful amber glow, making the white flecks seem almost like fire sparks.

The entry signs of all surrounding shops were written in unreadable letters that moved and changed time and time again, appearing and going as they pleased.

A clump of snow glided its way to the tip of her nose. She crossed her eyes to look at it and tried to blow it away, but she accidentally breathed it in instead.

She let out a suppressed sneeze and rubbed the melting flake away, her fingertips freezing.

Looking up from the sparkling gravel under her feet, she scanned the starry sky with childlike wonder. She couldn’t exactly tell the stars from the snowflakes. Both twinkled similarly, illuminated by the full moon that hung right above her.

The light mirrored in his peculiar eyes, making them seem like glowing gems from afar when he emerged from the surrounding fog on the opposite end of the street. He made his presence known with a soft whistle.

She already knew he was there, though. The air shifted around her just as he appeared out of nowhere.

She turned her head to look at him, breaking into a wide grin when he took his hand out of his pocket and gave her an endearing wave.

He skipped along the road in long hops, nearing her a lot quicker than the distance seemed to be. As if he was skipping through time as well.

He wasn’t leaving any footsteps behind, he didn’t have a shade. But then again, neither did she.

Sprinkles of snowflakes fell on his messy red hair, tied into a tangled bun on top of his head with an outrageously pink scrunchie. Here, though, the fabric seemed to be muted and warm, surprisingly soft. Just like him.

“Oh, look who’s here! You were waiting for me in this weather? I’m blushing,” he mused, putting his arm around her as soon as he reached her.

He gave her what would normally be a bone-crushing squeeze, but in this place, it felt like catching fog with bare hands.

“You told me not to forget. You’re more intimidating than you think,” she mumbled and folded her arms to warm her hands in the armpits of her leather jacket. He grinned.

“Well, I think pretty highly of myself, so…”

“Yeah, I figured,” she squinted at him, curiously studying the red frostbitten patches on his cheeks with a sly smile.

“Wanna take this? It’s fucking freezing out here,” he mumbled when her teeth started chattering and began to take his suede jacket off. But she shook her head, holding his arms in place.

She ran her hands through thin air.

“Nope, I’m fine, ta. Did you make this weather up, Stoney? Like a weird yawn-to-put-your-arm-around-a-girl type deal?” she nonchalantly chuckled and blood quickly rushed to her cheeks when he unexpectedly took her fingers in his palms, rubbing them together to melt the freezing sensation.

It was eerie, to suddenly feel his skin on hers. Icy and silky, like a soft breeze tickling her pale knuckles. The intensity of her blush was painful, stinging and scratching her cold flesh from the inside.

He lifted her hands to his lips, softly blowing on them. His breath was balmy and caressing, like running one’s hands through a bowl of honey.

“Maybe I did. Twenty-one years alive and I’ve never seen as much snow as this year. It’s like you brought it with you, like a little punky Jack Frost,” he mumbled into their intertwined fingers. “I’m not complaining, though. Feels like we’re in a song or something.”

“Why do I have the feeling that you’ve already used that trick a couple of times?” she playfully lifted her index finger to nudge his aquiline nose, but once again, she only poked air.

Like she was able to touch him only when he permitted it. Manipulating the matter of her body, the sole sovereign of this bizarre world, above the limits of time and space. The look he gave her wasn’t as mischievous as she’d expected.

“Would it hurt you to stop being bitchy for just a couple of seconds?” he raised his eyebrows but continued to softly caress the back of her hands.

Silence hung in the air as she averted her eyes, embarrassed by his sudden crassness.

“I never dream,” he added and waited for her to look at him. His eyes were brutally honest. Older, wiser, burdened with something she wasn’t able to decipher. “But when I see you out there, I can’t tell if I’m awake.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but she wasn’t able to find words that would describe the feelings running through her head like a freight train.

Instead, she opted for carefully loosening her hands out of his grip and then took his fingers in hers, now returning the favour by blowing on his red knuckles.

His expression softened a bit as he watched little puffs of fog leave her lips, eyes dissociating when she gathered the courage to plant a feather-light kiss on his fingertips. Then, she gently pushed the hand back to his face, pressing the fingers against his lips.

They were still warm.

His eyes fluttered closed because somehow, he could still feel the soft skin of her lips on them.

Without thinking, he mirrored her action and returned the roundabout kiss by reaching back down to her, lingering on her lips for a fleeting moment before finally slipping his hands back into his pockets.

After what felt like hours in a maze of his strange gaze, she gathered enough strength to steady her breath and finally spoke.

“Let’s not wake up, then.”

And as if on cue, the shriek of an alarm clock disturbed the ghostly silence. It seemed to be slightly muffled by the glowing fog around them, but it still pierced her heart like a scalloped knife.

His murky voice washed over her like a warm ocean wave, spilling into her veins. Slowly, calmly, somberly.

And as always, crowned by a daring smirk.

“Tomorrow, same time, same place. Don’t you forget…”

#pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam imagine #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #pearl jam #mother love bone #grunge fanfiction #90s music #jeff ament #stone gossard #band fic

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tryskomys · 3 months

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire

Summary: Let’s meet in our dreams.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter two has arrived! i hope it's not too eccentric and confusing to read, it's the only way i know how. hope you enjoy <3

tw: weed, swearing, psychedelic-headache-inducing imagination. you know those dreams that feel like you've taken a hit of acid and fuck up your day before you can say “these edibles ain't shit”? yeah, there's that.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

A flash of ruddy hair appeared in her peripheral as she felt his warm breath tickle the back of her neck.

“This is my room,” he mumbled in her ear and led her inside a strange place with four walls, a ceiling and a floor. It didn’t look like a room at all.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed to be made of something similar to cotton clouds, corporeal and see-through at the same time.

In the furthest corner, there was a single bed with bright pink sheets and a small tea table. It had a cup of coffee on top, along with a pocket weed pipe.

Her body twitched when he put his hand between her shoulder blades and extended his other lanky arm to point an extraordinarily long finger at the wall in front of them, landing right on a shiny sunburst Les Paul.

“This is my guitar,” he whispered again, his cold aquiline nose nudging her cheek. She wanted to turn around to take a peek at him, but she felt like she was frozen in time, gliding through the room as he gracefully pushed her further inside.

The walls expanded and shrunk over and over again, swirling like the smoke that was eerily sizzling out of the glass pipe.

“This is my bed,” he snapped her out of her dissociation again, his fingers wrapping around her waist. He led her towards the comfortable-looking mattress.

She didn’t protest when he spun her around and lifted her off the floor as if she were made of feathers.

She was looking right through him, unable to focus on his features, yet she knew exactly where to touch to caress his cheek. She could feel a few small freckles under her fingertips.

He hummed as he laid her down on the bed and straightened up again, reaching for the small transparent pipe crammed with green clumps.

His cheeks hollowed as he took a long, deep drag and then leaned on his knees, puffing the smoke right into her face. There was something inexplicably vulgar about the scent.

And as his hair fluttered under his exhale, it was as if she was simultaneously standing in a field full of wild strawberry bushes.

“This is my handy little grass pipe,” he breathed out the remnants of smoke, his voice low and stoic. Just when his features finally started to take shape and colour, he moved again and blurred into an unrecognizable tall figure climbing on top of her, knees at the sides of her hips.

He hovered above her as he swept her tangled hair out of her face, his Adam's apple moving up and down while he hummed an unidentifiable tune.

The melody was surprisingly delicate and gentle, contrasting his shameless indecency. When she subconsciously tried to look away from his scrutinizing stare, he swiftly caught her jaw in his hand, tutting.

"Nuh-uh. This is my dream, too. Don’t be a killjoy,” he mumbled, somewhat crass. He softly tugged on her chin to turn her head back to face him and when she did, his features finally took shape.

His eyes were impossibly big. Half-lidded with wildly dilated pupils, irises an unidentifiable, harsh shade of green. Encircled with smudges of messy black eyeliner, swirling through her brain like a head-spinning drug.

His lips curled into a cocky grin when a breath hitched in her throat. She reached up to run her hand through his red-tinted hair, but she grabbed nothing but air. He tutted again and slowly shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed in her naivité.

Suddenly, a shrilling high-pitched beep echoed through the floating room and wormed into her ear, pounding her brain like a sledgehammer. Her heart burst into rapid beats when he bent down to her face, a smug smirk still dancing on his angled features.

His phantom lips shivered over hers like a weightless quill, bony ribcage brushing against her chest as he let out an airy chuckle. His words were laced with condescending amusement.

“Oh, right. This is my alarm clock. It always seems to ring by the time we get here. What a shame…oh well. Tommorow, same time, same place. Don't you forget...”

His voice melted and got lost in the loud beeps as the room around her dissolved. Kiki let out a pathetic whine and she waved her hands in the air, trying to grasp onto his shoulders so he wouldn’t disappear with it.

It didn’t work, so she swiftly sat up in her bed, still grabbing the air around her.

When she realized the source of the noise was a blue alarm clock that sat on the coffee table next to her, she grabbed it and threw it against the wall with a childish grunt.

It stopped beeping, but its plastic container broke open and the battery fell out, rolling along the floor and stopping right at her feet as if to mock her.

She huffed, feeling a rush of blood pool in her cheeks as the fresh memory of her dream erased the ugly noise from her mind.

Huh. What the fuck…

She was extremely puzzled as she looked around her flat, finally grounding in reality. One room, that’s all she had, with a tiny kitchen counter and an even smaller bathroom.

Her window led to the street, though, so whenever she crawled out of her bed, she could open it right away and breathe in the frigid winter air.

She rubbed her eyes and looked out, watching as lone cars passed through the mist that settled above the dim streets of Seattle. She smiled to herself.

Could be a worse view.

Getting up, Kiki stretched and grabbed the alarm clock off the floor. She put it back together, finally looking at the time.

5:30. Fuck. That’s late.

She sped up her routine, clumsily slapping on mascara in the bathroom before quickly digging through her suitcase to fish out a clean shirt.

A month in and I still haven’t unpacked, what a well-mannered lady.

She couldn’t find anything, so she frantically looked around the room, kicking a rag and a bra out of her way. Her eyes fell on a white t-shirt that was thrown over the single chair next to her table.

She walked up to it and folded it open, revealing a round-shaped photo of an Indian man with a huge beard, long hair and sunglasses, circled with big words that spelled SOUNDGARDEN.

Oh. Oh, right.

The picture of the unruly guy from her dream finally fully materialized and her already heated blush grew even brighter when she realized that she did, in fact, not make him up.

Fuck. Beanpole.

“So you haven’t been to a gig here yet? God, that’s grim. Soundgarden is a great place to start, though. It’s a bit of everything, but mostly kinda metal-based. The U-Men are playing next week, if you’re into more punky stuff, ” Stone rambled and waved his hands around, which was clearly something he did a lot.

His strides were long and brisk, so she was a bit out of breath as she tried to catch up with him.

He had a big suede jacket on and a fuzzy knitted beanie with a big puffy ball on top.

Kiki had to giggle at his unusual visage, she couldn't put into words what made him so damn endearing, but he had an irresistibly charming skip to his step.

Now that he was in motion, he reminded her of a cub that hadn’t fully grown into its paws yet, his huge feet slapping against the crunching fresh snow, bony fingers wiggling through the air as he enumerated the upcoming week’s concerts.

Kiki threw the t-shirt on and quickly wiggled into her ragged denim overalls, cursing when the fuzzy brown sweater she stuck her head through made her hair stand up and crackle with static.

She promptly looked over at her clock again and tied her boots, grabbed her wristwatch off the table and put it in the pocket of her leather jacket.

As she skipped down the long stairs of the apartment building, she wrapped a long woollen scarf around her neck, scratching her forehead when a piece of cotton lint stuck to her eyebrow.

She hurried to the bike rack in front of the building, clumsily throwing her backpack on while trying to untangle the leather strap that tied her bike to the metal pipes. When she finally loosened it, she quickly grabbed the lock that hung on it, moved the three number buttons in the correct order and took it off.

She stuffed all of it in her pockets, too and hopped on her bike. And then she could finally set off to work, letting memories flow through her head.

“Stoney! Hey, Stoney! Stoked that you made it! Matt shed a few tears when he didn’t see you in the pit,” the seemingly intimidating guitar player called after the two of them, finally hopping off of the stage and excitedly waving to get their attention. He had a bushy black beard and hair messier than a bird’s nest.

Kiki tried to gather some courage by straightening her back and nudging Stone. He seemed to sense the tension in her muscles, so he delicately placed his hand on her back, putting in just enough weight to assure her that he was there.

“Oh, so it is your real name! Tough shit,” she mumbled as they moved through the crowd, earning a hearty chuckle while he answered various calls of 'Hi, Stoney', 'What’s up, Stoney', 'Hi ya, Stoney', 'Stop by for a shot, Stoney' and a bunch of other greetings. “Seems like I’m hanging with the popular kid, that’s an unexplored territory for me.”

“Chill out, you’ll fit in just right. The starving artists of Seattle generally respond well to greenies and you're undoubtedly irresistible.”

Irresistible.

That’s the word that occupied Kiki's head as he locked her bike to the rack in front of a parking lot with the leather strap and lock she fished out of her pockets, but then she noticed there was another, bigger bike next to hers, similarly battered and covered in stickers.

Mötorhead, Butthole Surfers, Nets…

She frowned, took out her watch and checked it before finally tying it around her wrist.

Where did this thing come from? I’m supposed to be starting the shift. Weird.

She sank her ears into the fluffy scarf and headed towards the Raison D’Être. When she turned the corner and reached the door of the artsy café, she took a bundle of keys out of her backpack to open up.

But the key didn't go in, as there was one already slotted in from the other side.

“The hell…” she sighed and pressed her nose against the frosted glass, trying to decipher any signs of life. She knocked and heard an unintelligible answer before a figure rose from behind the counter and walked up to the front.

When the door opened, Kiki found herself in front of a tall guy wearing a bizarre furry hat and a sleeveless basketball jersey, an interesting choice for this kind of weather.

Pearl earrings were hanging out of his ears and his face lit up with a wide cat-like grin. He towered over her, just like…

Dammit, get out of my head, beanpole.

“Can I help you?” the guy mused, leaning against the doorframe. He wore a ring on every finger and multiple beaded necklaces of different sizes and colours dangled from his muscular neck.

What a character.

Kiki chuckled and rattled her key bundle in the air.

“Can I help you? You seem awfully suspicious,” she shrugged and mirrored his stance. He giggled.

“You must be Kiki. I’m Jeff, really a pleasure to finally meet you,” he stuck out his hand and waited for her to shake it. Just as she reached out, he gently took her fingers and kissed the cold knuckles, old-fashion style.

She huffed, but couldn’t help a little blush.

“Uh, that’s me. Great to meet you…Jeff? Oh, yeah! Rod told me about a Jeff on sick leave,” she said and silently thanked him as he motioned her to come inside. “Glad to see you on two feet! Word has it that you got injured in a freaky water polo accident or something.”

Jeff laughed and the youthful energy around him only intensified. He locked the door again and jogged to catch up with her, helping her out of the leather jacket like a proper gentleman.

He had a pleasantly light cologne, mixed with the scent of coffee beans as he was just in the middle of grinding them. And a faint hint of weed that was nowhere near as arousing as her dream made it out to be.

“Yeah, I busted my knee. Playing basketball, just to clarify.”

“I mean, there’s a ball and there’s a net, right? The only basics that matter,” Kiki wiggled her index finger at him and grabbed the barista apron he offered her. It had a bright psychedelic print on it, almost hypnotizing. Jeff snorted.

“Jeez, thank god my friend Stoney isn’t here, he’d fall in love with you on the spot,” he mused and her smile fell a bit, eyes wide.

Oh.

Her cheeks grew red, she tried to play it off by nonchalantly scratching her forehead.

“Would he now?” she smirked and Jeff nodded, leaning against the counter as he lousily wiped it with a damp rag that he took out of his back pocket.

“With that smart-ass-will-o’-the-wisp-punk thing you got going on? Madly,” he looked Kiki up and down and gave her another disarming grin. “Fortunately he’s at work, little baker boy at Grand Central.”

“Let me guess…”

She folded her arms and put on a thoughtful frown. She hoped that Jeff’s comment was supposed to compliment her.

“About yay high,” she raised her hand as far as she could, “…bad dye job, ridiculous scrunchie…” she counted on her fingers and Jeff’s jaw dropped, laughing as she continued.

“...bug-eyed, punchable face…”

Stone smirked as the bearded man patted his shoulder a few times after greeting him and before he could ask about his female company, another man joined them, a mane of curls flowing around his face like a sea of black seaweeds. He had a linen shirt on, opened all the way to his navel. The singer.

“‘Sup, Stoney? The guys went for a blunt but they’ll be right back. Who’s your little friend?” he mused and then stopped in his tracks for a second before slapping the bushy guitarist's stomach with the back of his hand.

“Kim, that’s Keeva. As in Kiki. No way,” he whistled and the guitarist, Kim, raised his eyebrows with a surprised nod.

“Oh! Oh, right! Jesus, hi, we were wondering when you’ll show up! I’m Kim, pleasure,” he extended his hand and Kiki bashfully shook it, her cheeks full of a crooked smile.

The singer chimed in with an introduction, almost cutting off his well-spoken friend.

“I’m Chris, so nice to meet you! We’ve heard about you shredding your way through this shithole, but you never showed up! We were starting to think you’re just an urban legend!” Chris ruffled her hair and giggled as if he was a genuinely happy child receiving a new toy for Christmas.

Stone chuckled, flicking her nose for the sixth time that evening.

“See, I told you you were a fucking cryptid.”

“Sylphs are known to migrate to America during this time of year, Stone. No wonder you dropped out,” Kim added, theatrically widening his eyes as Kiki rolled her eyes and scratched the back of her neck, grinning.

“Cool, so I don’t have to introduce you,” Jeff giggled and adjusted his hat. “When did that happen?”

“Last night. We met on the way to the Off Ramp. We were running late but he took me through a shortcut,” Kiki shrugged, walked behind the counter and hopped up on it.

She grabbed a small blackboard propped up next to the cashier and started writing down the Monday special - Hazelnut espresso.

Chris was a very attractive man, no doubt about it. He was even taller than Stone, but he filled the space around him, whereas Stone seemed to poke out. Even though Chris’s mane of curls had twice the volume hers had, Stone’s hair was somehow messier. Chris’s eyes were a cold shade of blue, but they felt warm and comforting. Stone’s saucer eyes made her want to look away, despite having an inviting golden hue.

He was everywhere, sticking out no matter who he stood next to.

“He, uh…he left an impression, that’s for sure,” she mumbled and cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the choking grip that was his face behind her eyelids.

“Like you wanted to slap him?” Jeff squinted, grinning again when she vehemently nodded.

“He’s good. A smart-ass for sure, plus there’s his whole chess club thing. But he’s kinda a brother by now. Oddly hot, chicks dig him. But don’t tell him I said that,” he wiggled with his finger when she gasped. “Doesn’t play ball, though, so that’s a little dent in his coolness.”

Chicks dig him, huh?

Oh, and of course he plays chess. Perfectly annoying.

“Depends. I mean, I personally never really got the appeal of sports. I’m more of a cheerleader,” Kiki smirked as Jeff’s smile grew even wider.

“Oh man, talk about two peas in a pod,” he muttered under his breath and disappeared into the back room for a moment before emerging with two big mugs.

“Fuck, I almost forgot. I kinda knew you were coming, so I made this when I opened up. Just a little welcome surprise,” he shrugged and handed her a warm cup of tea with milk. “A small piece of home, right? Hope you’re not allergic to milk or something.”

Christ, is everyone here a sweetheart? Talk about culture shock.

“Fucking hell, thanks so much, Jeff,” she pouted, humming when she took a sip. “Oof, it tastes better than my gran’s.”

“Maple syrup, that’s the secret ingredient,” Jeff winked and sipped on his coffee as well. “So, how did ya like Soundgarden?”

“Phew. It was breathtaking, seriously. I’ve never heard anything like that. And everyone was so nice, too. Stone introduced me to the band and stuff. We had a couple of beers, it was great…” she rambled and waved her arms around excitedly.

“How old are you? Can I even buy you a drink?” Chris chirped, squeezing her nose. Kiki grinned at his friendly gesture.

“Relatively fresh nineteen,” she retorted, her voice coming out as quacks as he still held onto her nose. He gasped.

“My god, you’re a baby!”

“Right?! Found her in a corner, too,” Stone chimed in, scoffing when Chris reached up and pulled his nose as well.

“Shut up, Stoney. You’re just jealous that you’re not daddy’s favourite child anymore,” he quipped, let go of them both and put his arm around Kiki’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He may be barely legal but he still doesn’t know proper etiquette.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I don’t have citizenship yet and I’m fully legal in England. Therefore, there's technically nothing to feel bad about as I don’t exist in the federal records,” she shrugged and Chris laughed, the curls bouncing around his face like little black springs.

“Oh, Stoney, she’s a little minx, too. Now you’re in trouble, friend,” he slapped Stone’s scrawny shoulder and ruffled his hair. Stone shooed his hand away and shook his head, hoping his red hair would make the furious blush blend in.

Jeff clapped his hands like an excited kid.

“Wicked! Wait, are you even old enough to drink?” he teased and Kiki rolled her eyes.

“…and then everyone was like ‘Man, thank god Jeff isn’t here, he’s a fucking asshole.’” she added, making him laugh again. “I’m nineteen.”

“Jesus almighty, you’re a baby!” he exclaimed with a gasp and she closed her eyes, shaking her head.

Baby, we’re in the same boat here…

The words echoed through her head as a vicious queue to make her throat tighten once more.

“Here it goes again. Come on, you can’t be that much older!” Kiki crossed her arms and he straightened up proudly.

“I’m twenty-four,” Jeff retorted, but it definitely sounded like a kid trying to sell their age as grown and wise. That made her grin.

“Okay, big guy, I’ll believe that when I see your ID.”

Jeff was about to protest and reach for his wallet, but a firm knock on the front door made them both jump.

Kiki didn’t turn around, instead, she instinctively looked at her wristwatch while Jeff set off to check.

Hm. We open in an hour. Who’s -

“Dammit, Ames, I knocked like four times. If you want a new guitarist, just tell me. Making me freeze to death a bit overkill.”

The nasal voice from her dream created a wave of heat inside her, running through her body like someone dumped a bucket of scorching coffee on her head. She looked over her shoulder and there he was, in the flesh, right in front of her.

He had his big brown jacket on, a puffy checkered scarf bundled around his neck and a neatly tied burgundy bandana. His comically large hands were poking out of woollen fingerless gloves and he rubbed them together, slightly shivering.

When he saw her, he cracked into a wide crooked smile that made tiny little dimples appear on his frostbitten cheeks.

Irresistibly smug.

“Oi, cheerio, Baby! Beautiful morning, innit?” Stone chirped, putting on an atrocious accent again. Kiki narrowed her eyes.

“Well, look who it is. Are you stalking me, beanpole?” she hissed, the corner of her mouth twitching when he chuckled.

“You wish,” he raised an eyebrow and took off his backpack. “I came to welcome my rhythm section buddy Jeff back to the world of dead-end jobs.”

He mindlessly dropped the backpack on the counter and Jeff cursed, pushing it down to the floor.

“Dude, I just wiped it!” he frowned. “Did I miss something? What’s up with the baby?”

“She’s tiny, annoying and says ‘fuck’ like she’d just learned how to swear. Do the math,” Stone shrugged and flicked Kiki’s nose. She slapped his hand away.

“Give him a break, Jeff. It just makes him feel like a big boy,” she retorted and Jeff leaned against the counter, darting between them for a few seconds. Then he let out a huge sigh.

“Oh dear god, there’s two of them now.”

Kiki felt another wave of blood creep up her cheeks as Stone stared her down. He wasn’t wearing eyeliner this time, but his eyes were nonetheless overpowering.

Maybe even more so, strangely glowing in the dim morning light, seemingly lightened by the snow outside.

I don’t have time for this.

She stuck her tongue out at him, hopped off the counter and put the blackboard next to the cashier before turning her back to him. She began rearranging the to-go cups by size to occupy her brain with anything else but him.

He just smirked and loosened the top layers of his scarf.

“Andy’s not here yet?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since he brought me lunch three days ago. How was the gig?” Jeff questioned while he wiped off the snowdrops that fell on the counter from Stone’s backpack.

Stone leaned his elbows on it and rested his head in his hands, palms squishing his patchy red cheeks.

“Badass. The EP sounds even more incredible live, now that you have a comparison. There were, like, a ton of new people. Chicks everywhere, like mosquitoes. Hiro got hit in the face with a fucking bra. The whole of Sub Pop was there, too, all four of ‘em.”

“Were the guys there?” Jeff asked after a few moments of silence and the room suddenly filled with strange gravity. Kiki frowned a little and took a sip of her tea, trying not to eavesdrop. Stone sighed.

“Steve was. We kinda waved at each other, but we didn’t speak,” he shrugged and scratched his temple. He coughed to get rid of the strain in his voice.

“I met Baby, though, so that was significantly more stimulating. Intellectually, of course,” he mused and Jeff snorted, looking between the pair.

“Bet.”

Kiki turned around and hummed, still clutching her cup.

“Glad to serve, beanpole. When do I get to see the two of you play, anyway? I’ve heard that you’re hot shit and I’d love to confirm slash deny that,” she nonchalantly crossed her arms but tensed when she saw the sombre look exchanged between them.

Bad move.

“Actually, we just broke up. About a month ago,” Jeff mumbled and tucked the rag into his back pocket again. Stone’s expression turned serious again, hardening like a statue.

“It was for the best of all of us, we weren’t going anywhere.”

He didn’t sound as sure as he probably wanted to. He bit his lip and looked at Kiki as if he was waiting for her reaction. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy or anything,” she mumbled and Jeff shook his head, softly patting her back.

“No, no, it’s okay, we sort of initiated it, anyway. Musical differences and all that.”

“They told us to go fuck ourselves because we were careerists,” Stone chimed in and emphasized the word with bitter air quotes, clearly hurt by the sentiment.

Jeff smacked his lips and frowned at Stone, obviously trying to draw a thick line under that conversation. Kiki bit her cheek, thinking of something to say.

“To be honest, you do seem like little gold diggers,” she sighed and they both chuckled, which was a relief. “No, but seriously. Nobody’s punk enough to enjoy cleaning tables and swiping floors and scrapping for food. And if they say they are, they’re lying.”

Jeff and Stone exchanged a small content smile, obviously glad that someone was on the same page with them.

“Yeah. Sounds good if you have three warm meals and a comfy bed secured at home. Like Stoney here. He has a little trust fund, don’t you?” Jeff poked Stone’s chest.

He began to turn red in the face and once again, Kiki caught a rare awkward crack in his facade. She opened her mouth wide and gasped.

“Aw, you have a loving family, Stoney? That’s not very punk rock of you,” she tutted and shook her head, grinning widely when he reached over the counter and squeezed her nose.

“Shut it, Baby. I’m a working struggling artist just like you…fuck!” His eyes widened. “What time is it?”

She promptly checked her watch.

“Quarter to six.”

“Uh, yeah, gotta run. The baguettes won’t bake themselves,” Stone explained, tightened his scarf and grabbed his backpack off the floor. He turned his attention to Jeff. “Be back for lunch, the usual time. My treat today, I’ll bring some grub. Got any grass?”

“Dude, come on. You’ll ruin me. This is the last time, I'm telling you, you’re buying next. I only have enough left for three spliffs, anyway,” Jeff firmly shook his head and shooed Stone away.

Kiki chuckled, trying to shut down her embarrassing thoughts.

She was afraid that Stone could hear them, observing himself puffing a thick cloud of illicit smoke in her face from an obscenely small distance.

He certainly looked at her like he was seeing it as well, a pompous grin plastered on his face as he raised his eyebrows, innocently questioning why she was so flustered.

“Well, you're free to keep my share, weed stinks like a sweaty ballsack. Always, no exceptions,” she added the last part to convince herself. She would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for Stone’s loud wolf whistle.

“Would you look at that, Ames? We got a good catholic schoolgirl on our hands,” he chirped. Kiki mocked a laugh and gave him a middle finger, using her offensive gesture to obscure the patchy blush on her face.

Jeff giggled, reaching for the coffee mill next to him.

“Leave her alone, dude. I wanna catch a jam with her before she gets a restraining order against you,” he affectionately patted Kiki’s head.

“Don’t care, I’ll corrupt her sooner or later, that’s a cross I have to bear. Are you two free today? Parents are out of town, so we can get that jam off our chests. I get off at five.”

“That’s weirdly specific,” Kiki squinted at him, still red in the face. Jeff’s cheeks puffed with a throaty laugh as Stone tried his best to keep the corners of his mouth down.

“Depends. If you’re good enough, I may cut it down to four, just for you. Now, fetch me a keg of cappuccino to go, fair maiden!”

She gasped and flung her arm to slap his head, but he managed to jump out of her way. Jeff’s chirpy laughter echoed through the room as he raised his arms to keep them apart.

“Okay, Tom and Jerry, knock it off.”

“I’ll fetch you a cappuccino when you fetch me a breakfast croissant, baker boy,” Kiki hissed and Stone broke into a smug grin, skipping away to the door.

“Deal. Be right back,” he waved and walked right into a coathanger. He caught balance pretty quickly, though, and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

“Don’t threaten us,” she called back at him and cackled at his stumble. He blew each of them a theatrical air kiss and backed out of the door, disappearing into the light snow around the corner. Kiki chuckled, staring out of the window for a few more seconds.

The faint cloud of his strawberry shampoo lingered in her head, along with the sweet freezing air that emanated from his clothes.

Kiki had heard some girls swooning over Chris when she and Stone made their way through the crowd after the show. She wondered if girls talked like that about Stone at his band’s gigs.

Considering the amount of chicks that greeted him with the affectionate nickname, the ghastly purring giggles already rang in her ears.

She fixed her dissociated gaze at no particular place in front of her. Chris led her through the small venue to the bar, answering greetings from all sides.

“Hey, you ok?” he questioned and he squeezed her shoulder. She jerked, realizing he was probably speaking to her the whole time. Stone chuckled.

“She does that a lot, just zones out to make contact with the Mothership.”

“Har har, beanpole. Sorry, I’m just…getting a bit tired, I guess. Long day,” she shrugged and gave Chris an apologetic smile.

“It’s past Baby’s bedtime, you see?” Stone patted her head and she frowned, elbowing him in the stomach.

“I’ve spent basically my whole evening talking to you, Stoney. No wonder I’m falling asleep,” she put on a sarcastic smile and emphasized what was apparently the only correct way to address him.

Stone was just about to return the jab when Chris interrupted them with a hearty giggle.

“Shit, didn’t you say you’ve just met? Like, today? Can’t wait to see you twenty years of marriage deep,” he grinned and ignored their heated cheeks as he ordered a round of tequila shots.

After a few seconds of staring through the glass door, Kiki noticed Jeff in the corner of her eye, studiously watching her.

She did a double-take between the street and his smug smirk and frowned.

“'Sup?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he raised his arms in surrender with a small wink and then started grinding coffee again, humming. When she disappeared into the back room with a suspiciously bright grin, he added the lyrics.

“So this is love, mmhm hmhm…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard x oc #90s music #pearl jam imagine #mother love bone #pearl jam #grunge fanfiction #stone gossard #jeff ament #soundgarden #green river #grunge

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tryskomys · 4 months

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Before anyone starts talking about gun laws in the US and "see, there's mass shootings in Europe too", this was the seventh and the worst mass shooting in this country since the end of the Second World War

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tryskomys · 4 months

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Doufám, že jste všichni v pořádku a safe, aspoň tak jak to jen v týhle situaci jde…❤️držím palce všem a hlubokou soustrast pozůstalým❤️

Pár odkazů:

Sbírka FF UK na pomoc zasaženým: sbírka

Linka bezpečí: 116 111

Linka první psychické pomoci: 116 123

Pražská linka důvěry: 222 580 967

Modrá linka: 731 197 477

Krizová linka Bohnice: 284 016 666

insta profil studentskahybernska dává updaty se jménama pohřešovaných a nalezených update: hybernska už neposkytuje info, místo toho se obracejte na číslo: 974 823 158 (díky @teplavecernice za opravu)

Kdo má další informace nebo užitečný odkazy tak určitě přidávejte…

Držte se❤️

#čumblr #ff uk #praha

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tryskomys · 4 months

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Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Masterlist

꧁•⊹٭𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘٭⊹•꧂

At the height of the popularity of hair metal, corny MTV videos and spandex, the grounded sound of smalltown gritty guitars starts bubbling to the surface of Seattle underground. Stone Gossard and Kiki Andrews, the four-armed riff beast of Mother Love Bone, find themselves in the eye of the storm as the whirlwind of rising popularity tests their limits.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: this is for all the down-bad 90’s band kids who don’t fit in (and don’t wanna fit in)

once again, the names of chapters reference a song either appearing in the story or just simply fitting the vibe. ♡

you can try to play along and see if you can spot them. it can be a little inside joke between us, reader.

caution: a lot of swearing, pining, possibly mildly lewd content, a whole lot of chirping from sarcastic little assholes that are hopelessly in love, minor injuries (the 90’s were the wild wild west), mentions of drugs and addiction. i will list any tws at the beginning of each chapter ♡

Chapter 1 - River

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire

Chapter 3 - For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her

Chapter 4 - Watermelon In Easter Hay

#pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #90s music #pearl jam imagine #pearl jam #mother love bone #band fic #grunge #grunge fanfiction #grunge fic #lmfao i know all grunge musicians hate the term grunge #i just couldnt help myself #fanfiction #fanfic #stone gossard

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tryskomys · 4 months

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Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 1 - River

꧁•⊹٭𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘٭⊹•꧂

Summary: He was a punk, she did...punk. Can I make it any more obvious?

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Notes: but tryskomys, I hear you say, you have two unfinished fanfictions and you’re just going to pull a non-existent sixth member of one of the most influential bands of all time out of your ass? and my answer is yes. i am about to do that. i hope that this can be read even if you're not aware/a fan of this type of music. maybe i can convert you, though? give it a try, it might win your heart over. i'd be honoured if it was through my story. (more notes at the end)

tw: swear words, flirting skills of a 9 year-old. cheesy meet-cute. like, rom-com style stinky cheese. hope you'll like it!

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

1987, December

It’s late.

Probably already dark outside, the basement didn’t have any windows so there was no way to tell. Not that it mattered anyway, winter seemed to feast on seasonal depression so it made the sun go down even before it could properly rise above the horizon of the Seattle skyline.

She was grasping at straws though, looking for any excuse to bail. Excuse for herself, that is.

This was your idea, idiot. Sit and observe the local wildlife, you said. Serves you right.

She winced at her internal self-scolding as she looked around the room, scratching her forehead uncomfortably. It should be illegal to have this many people in one place. It just doesn’t seem right.

The human species has evolved from herd behaviour, but it seems like bars are a lingering relic of those times. Like a pocket universe where anything goes. A window to the past. Especially the mating calls.

She allowed herself to break the edgy facade she cemented on her freckled face and grinned, hiding the smug expression by taking a swig of the stale beer that she’d been sipping for the last hour.

A couple of teenagers, definitely not old enough to be in a bar, just walked - stumbled by. Their tongues were so far up each other’s throats that they probably reached into their eye sockets, too.

She managed to lift the lukewarm bottle of Budweiser just as they crashed into her table, minimalizing the spillage to a tiny puddle. They didn’t even seem to notice the collision, instead awkwardly taking a beeline to the restrooms.

Bless their hearts.

She snorted and wiped the liquid with the hem of her blue sweatshirt before cuffing the sleeves. There were many more odd couples similarly lost in their little worlds, some of them more one-sided than others. Her eyes scanned the line of people standing in front of the counter, either waiting for their drinks or simply chatting.

A surfer dude with a barely visible 5 o'clock shadow trying to woo a short brunette who seemed to be too drunk to realize he’s clumsily trying to slip a pill into her drink. Thankfully she seemed to be quite infatuated with his greasy blonde hair and wouldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried to bait her. In the end, her friend came up and dragged her away, leaving the guy to sit there like a lost kid.

All is fair in love and war my ass. Good riddance, prick.

The girl rubbed her eye and softly cursed when it stung. She forgot she had eyeliner on but it was already smudged, mixing with the purple circles under her eyes.

The bar was definitely going overboard with the heating, trying to make up for the coldness emanating from the brick walls, abused by the snowy breeze outside. The herd factor didn’t contribute to making the place more breathable either.

She took another gulp of her beer, pulling a disgusted grimace as the stale liquid moved down her throat. Her gaze moved to another group of people at the bar.

Two girls, one very tall and the other trying to make up for her average height with big heels, talking to a fairly good-looking guy who just seemed to enjoy the attention.

There was no way she could hear them from this distance, but the body language was a clear giveaway that they were trying to one-up each other, one outfit more colourful than the other, showing all the peacock feathers that matter to a guy like that - pompous, in a tight shirt and permed hair teased as far as they could go. She even felt like she could smell his nauseating pine cologne.

Oh, a little bandana too. Cute. Crawled right out of a Mötley video.

She snorted again, wiping a drop of beer that ran down her chin as she moved to the next couple. One of the lone strings of artificial light was pointing there, making it seem a lot more dramatic than it needed to be. Like a Renaissance painting.

She was just about to study the scene but her eyes flickered next to them at the sound of a shot glass breaking against the floor. She rested her back against the hard wall, welcoming the stingy sensation of the cold stone.

Ha, stone, what a grounding word.

Stone, stone.

My kingdom for a stone…

She sang a little melody in her head before frowning.

“What the fuck?” she whispered to scold herself again, wondering if there are any brain cells left in her brain, considering they seemed to be rapidly dying due to the lack of oxygen in the room.

She realized she truly might not have much to work with at this point because she was starting to see colours that definitely weren’t there.

Is that a fluffy pink scrunchie?

The pair consisted of what seemed to be another mating ritual, but this time, she couldn’t get a read on the situation. At all. She just couldn’t concentrate, all her senses were fixated on that one scrunchie wrapped around a high ponytail.

She studied the flowing hair that cascaded around it. Long, a little wavy. Soft, considering they had an unnatural red tint near the ends, probably courtesy of a bad dye job.

Too soft. Unfairly soft.

She blinked a few times and squinted, unable to make out the face they belonged to as he was facing the bar, his shoulders shaking with a laugh. Broad shoulders. Angular.

She realized he was towering over most of the bar and wondered if he was really that tall or if it was just the phosphorescent scrunchie standing out like a black eye. She caught a glimpse of his hand as he moved his lanky arm to pat the blond girl next to him on the back, almost condescendingly. An unusual gesture for a mating ritual.

The blondie, courtesy of peroxide, was pretty tall as well, but his huge hand seemed to take up a bizarre amount of length of her torso.

The sagacious watcher darted her eyes from knuckle to knuckle, trying to count them as if she were making sure he didn’t have any extras. No, they were just very long. And elegant.

When she reached his fourth finger, graced with a simple silver ring, the hand disappeared into his back pocket, awkwardly sticking out as it didn’t really fit. She chewed on her lip to contain another smug grin.

Good riddance. That’s what you get for wearing tight jeans, you beanpole. Might as well wear stockings next time.

She quickly turned her attention the room again when she realized she held her gaze on his ass for way too long to pass it as simply observing the locals. Her breath seemed to hitch in her throat, so she sipped a bit of her beer to ground herself in the murky depths of socialization.

Hm. Grounding. My kingdom for a stone…

This time she visibly shook her head and a blush crept up her jawline, perplexed by the way her brain ridiculed her. And the image of the guy’s fingers burned behind her eyelids like a cruel brand.

They would look great wrapped around the neck. Of a Les Paul. The neck of a Les Paul. Not a Strat, that one is not thick enough for them. Fuck.

She looked again, this time he was facing the tall blondie next to him so she could see the little peak of his face. She didn’t want to, though. The hand was enough. Somehow her head screamed at her to look away, to find a different object of attention, just not this stupid beanpole. She couldn’t help it. The overly dramatic lighting hit the angles of his face just too perfectly not to look.

His forehead was quite prominent. His nose too, true aquiline shape. And a sharp jawline, clenching from time to time when he chuckled at something the blondie said.

Like a Roman statue.

She chewed on her lip again, this time a bit more harshly to silence her stained thoughts. She wasn’t sure about the rest of his face as the lighting only illuminated the most noticeable parts, but she could tell he had a very unusual kind of attraction.

Look anywhere else but his face. Or hair, or ass. Come on, there must be somewhere else.

She hyped herself up to leave his Roman nose alone and her eyes were already involuntarily falling back down his body, but this time she stopped at his torso. She sucked her teeth, trying to hide an amused smirk.

A white t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit. And a vest. Not just any vest. It was this grotesque mix of velvet, crochet and patchwork fabric, all sorts of different colours.

Really? With that scrunchie? Decadent.

She would’ve thought it was some sort of a bizarre Seattle trend if he wasn’t the only one wearing that. Somehow, it looked perfect on him, though. It hung from his slender shoulders like he was born with it, beaming under the sliver of light like one of those colourful kaleidoscopes kids buy in scammy souvenir shops. It must’ve been the way he was carrying himself.

He had this smug confidence around him, that was all she could make out. Otherwise, he was unreadable. Unlike the other guys around the bar, cool and unbothered.

Like a stone wall.

This time, her brain didn’t sing a stupid tune. She was too fixated on the way his nose scrunched whenever he broke into a smirk, raising his eyebrows as the blondie tried to articulate something. She was clearly trying to play it cool but ended up being flustered instead. He seemed to bask in it, though.

Figures that a beanpole with a scrunchie would be amused by some poor girl’s advances.

He does seem like he’s kinda into it, though. The way he bites his lip from time to time gives it away. And he’s definitely standing way too close to her.

She was so caught up in her crass analysis that she didn’t notice that the guy turned to face the room, leaned his palm against the wooden bar and scanned the crowd with a dissociated gaze. She thought she started seeing strange colours again when her vision blurred in a green haze. It took her a split second before she realized he was looking right at her.

The green was his eyes. Huge, protruding eyes lined with the slightest hint of eyeliner.

Shit.

Her head snapped to the restroom door, trying to avert her attention to anything else but the fact that she had been caught gawking at a stranger across a bar. The sudden motion made her neck cramp, so she reached up and poked it as nonchalantly as possible.

Very subtle.

Her eyes started wandering away from the restroom sign and she tried to not repeat her mistake. But he just stuck out of the crowd, with that stupid scrunchie and that stupid nose. It was like waving a diamond ring in front of a magpie.

Her hopeless gaze just ended up on him again. She was taken aback when she found that the glowing green didn’t move.

This time, he was the one to dart away when their eyes met, rapidly turning his attention to the blondie. He did it a lot more gracefully than her, but she couldn’t help but grin when he clumsily rubbed his neck.

She caught a glimpse of the tiniest crack in his composed facade before he brushed a stray hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. He leaned his elbow on the bar, coolness wrapping him around once again.

Strike one.

She could still see in her peripheral that he was looking around the room and she subconsciously followed his suit, like yawning when someone else does.

It didn’t take too long before their line of sight crossed again, this time they both knew better than to lock themselves in an unescapable staring contest and looked away before anyone could classify it as anything else but a coincidence.

Strike two.

She catastrophically failed at containing the smile that appeared on her face, quickly taking a sip of her beer to hide it in case he happened to look at her again.

The beer was getting warmer and warmer and that made the bitterness overwhelming, so the grin was exchanged for the typical nose scrunch grimace you do when you drink something that used to have bubbles in it.

The momentary lapse in attention caused her to involuntarily shoot him another look, but he was already studying her face with a lopsided smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes stayed the same, but somehow she felt the smile changed his demeanour.

Strike three.

He seemed to soundlessly tut and slowly shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed that she was making faces while drinking alcohol like a child.

Before she could stop herself, she mockingly repeated his grin and then stuck out her tongue at him.

Like a child. 5th grade flirting, very mature.

He closed his eyes for a second to compose himself and then turned back to the blondie next to him, unsuccessfully trying to hide a toothy smile with a gulp of beer, just like she did minutes ago.

If she could deck herself in the face, she would do it in a heartbeat. She would deck him as well for the tasteless taunt. She rolled her eyes at her own immaturity, but it was simply a knee-jerk reaction to his mischievous expression.

Pavlov’s beanpole.

She didn’t see that grin on his face when he was talking to the blondie. She couldn’t decide if that was a particularly good thing. The suave factor was exchanged for playful sarcasm and she was wondering if it was insulting or not.

Is he insinuating that I’m not worthy of his coolness like Miss Fast Times over there?

She automatically tried to smooth her messy hair down, putting a stray curl behind her ear.

Pavlov’s beanpole.

The curl just bounced back, joining the unruly sea that lined her face. Not that his lack of interest would be a big surprise to her, considering the out-of-place look that she was sporting.

The mousy fawn colour of the mop of curls was contaminated by a similar grown-out red as his, the sectoral heterochromia tinted one of her otherwise brown eyes with a streak of blue.

The satanic-panic-defying t-shirt with a red dragon didn’t help much, either. How could she compete with a girl-next-door-all-American sweetheart when she’d look like a stray raccoon from The Shire next to her and Mr. Beanpole who’s a whole foot taller than her?

Thank god no one’s heard me speak, they would stone me for foreign espionage or some shit. That’s it. One last peek and go home.

Oh.

The scrunchie disappeared from her sight and so did the peroxide blond perm, leaving a gaping nothingness in the stream of warm light.

Good for you, sweetheart. It’s not like you had to try or anything.

The watcher rolled her eyes at her bitterness and emptied the rest of the bottle in her throat, downing it like it was a shot. Another twitch of the nose, now accompanied by a stifled cough.

See, that didn’t even hurt. The elders of Hackney would’ve been proud. Fucking lightweight.

That seemed to be enough for that night, so she rubbed her eyes again and tried to mentally prepare for squeezing through all those cheerful people. The bony fingers were still lurking behind her eyelids, now joined by a pair of cheeky olive eyes.

When the vigorous rubbing stopped, she blinked a few times to make sure she did open her eyes, because the hands were still there. Right in front of her, leaning against the table, each fully wrapped around a dewy beer bottle. She looked up. The eyes were there, too, exactly as sly as before. Only even bigger up close.

Jesus Christ.

"Figured you’d want something you wouldn’t choke on. Seems like I came exactly at the right moment.”

His voice was a lot deeper than she would’ve expected, nasal and smug. The smug part was, on the other hand, just as she’d imagined. It was irresistibly annoying.

Don’t be rude, don’t be rude, don’t…

“Did that line ever work out for you?”

Oh well.

His smirk grew even wider, scrunching his nose just as she’d noticed before. Very irresistible. A chuckle rumbled somewhere deep inside his chest. It sent a jolt through her whole body, she was taken aback by the way her limbs jerked at his command.

Pavlov’s beanpole.

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to find out,” he chirped, raising his eyebrows when she didn’t chuckle. Irresistibly punchable face. She felt like she was under a microscope, those saucer eyes inspecting her every move.

His face was properly illuminated now that he leaned a bit closer, making all those angles even more prominent.

The nose looked softer somehow, almost elven, the scrunchie twinkled in all shades of pink. She noticed that he had two almost symmetrical freckles on each of his cheeks, as well as on both sides of his chin. A Roman statue sculpted with a protractor. He raised his eyebrows even higher, challenging her to respond.

“Earth to Baby? Who put you in a corner?” he mused, waving his obscenely long fingers in front of her eyes. Measuring her entire face.

Pavlov’s…fingers? Quick, say something witty.

“Budweiser tastes like piss.”

Nailed it.

His laugh rang in her ears. She caught a glimpse of his teeth, observing the sharp tips of his canines. Even his teeth would cause a papercut.

“Different strokes, different folks,” he retorted, shrugging. She mirrored his movement.

“I’m not into golden showers, sorry,” she shook her head, putting on a pitiful pout. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“In that case, I’ll be on my way, milady.”

He bowed and dramatically spun around as if he were leaving. She chuckled, a sound that made him spin back and lean against the table again, this time even closer, with another irresistibly annoying smirk.

Jesus. Do you know the term 'personal space', mate?

She tried to convince herself that she minded by leaning back against the stone wall. It was like he could hear the wheels turning in her head, raising his eyebrows on cue with her inevitable train of thought.

My kingdom for a…

“Stone.”

Her eyes popped open.

What the fuck is this fever dream? Can he hear me?

“Pardon?” she choked out. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“That’s my name.”

Huh?

“Oh. I wish I could help you with that,” she blurted out, regretting it immediately when his eyes lost all cheerfulness.

If there was an encyclopaedia of human expressions, that would be the picture next to the definition of 'puppy eyes'.

Before she could say anything, he raised his eyebrows again and broke into a wide grin, the suave coolness back in its tracks.

“Oh my god, your face. Don’t cry, Baby, not for me.”

Fucking beanpole.

She rolled her eyes so hard she might’ve pulled a muscle, letting out a heavy huff when he giggled. His hair bounced off his shoulders as they shook, waving a strawberry shampoo scent in her direction. That was enough to make a wave of blood rush into her cheeks.

Cool down, fast.

“What a gentleman. Can’t resist a beer from such sophisticated hands,” she shrugged, hiding the way her throat knotted with a soft cough. He just nodded, handing her the bottle.

His fingers seemed to be everywhere, and when they brushed against hers, she could swear her eyes went fuzzy for a split second. He seemed to notice the contact too, quickly offering his bottle for a clink.

“Cheers, Baby.”

“Chin-chin, beanpole.”

He snorted at the nickname, taking a swig. She followed, welcoming the harsh bubbling sensation only a cold beverage can bring. He tapped his finger on the wooden table.

“Can I sit?”

“It’s the Land of the Free, mate. Be my guest,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows when he cursed under his breath with a chuckle.

“Don’t spoil me, I’ll blush,” he reached for an empty chair in the cubicle next to them and sat down opposite her.

He folded his arms, trying not to take up all space at the table. She didn’t feel any less overwhelmed though, as his eyes were still darting around her pale face, very occasionally blinking in a slow, deliberate pattern.

“Thanks for the drink. Hope your lady doesn’t mind,” she narrowed her eyes, trying to look anywhere but his face. He raised his eyebrows for a second as if he didn’t know what she was talking about and then nodded.

“Oh! Oh yeah, I was waiting for my lady to sober up a bit but she got spooked when she didn’t see my face four times anymore,” he shrugged, not showing a single sign of defeat or self-pity. She knitted her eyebrows as she took a drink, tutting.

“I think it was the scrunchie, Stone,” she put extra weight on his name and he gave her the best pout he could conjure.

“Baby doesn’t like my scrunchie?”

“I think it’s cute, goes with the granny vest. But you know how it goes, different strokes…” she nodded sympathetically, her heart skipping a beat when his lips parted in a big “O” and he opened his eyes even wider.

How is that possible?

“You think I’m cute?”

Abort.

“I said your scrunchie was cute. Big difference, Stone,” she emphasized his name again, making him shake his head in disappointment.

“That’s getting kind of old. You’re running out of ammo. That’s like waving a big red blanket in front of me, so watch out,” he threatened with his index finger. She raised her palms in defence.

He scanned her arms, wondering how something so innocently small could make his cheeks inflame so harshly. He just started to imagine wrapping her hands in his when her voice tore him out of his thoughts. It was low and silent, velvety like a siren call. It undermined the whole 'innocent' thing.

“I surrender. I’ve just never met a person named Stone before. Might be a common name here, what the hell do I know.”

He managed to compose himself quite quickly, shooing dirty thoughts out of his head like unwanted pest.

“Let’s hear your name then, see how it stands the test of time. Kate? Audie? Marge?” he mused in a terrible English accent as he counted the names on his fingers. She mocked a laugh, shaking her head.

“Har har. Okay, Dick van Dyke, you struck me as a witty person. I’m disappointed.”

“Maggie?”

“No.”

“Agnes?”

“…no?”

“Aha! Adelaide! Maeve!”

“Do I look like your grandma? You’re the one who borrowed her vest!” she pointed at him, her voice changing pitch as she waved her arms around.

He smiled like the Cheshire cat, now being the one to raise his arms in surrender. She shook her head with a scoff.

“It’s Keeva.”

“See, told you.”

She reached up as if she was going to slap him, with a big grin plastered on her face. He flinched and raised his arms even higher, trying to contain the laughter that was rumbling in his throat.

“Your name is Kiwi and you’re…”

“Keeva!”

“…and you’re laughing about Stone? Baby, we’re in the same boat here,” he raised an eyebrow, clueless to the fact his Patrick Swayze routine impacted her more and more with every use.

Stop it, beanpole.

“Nobody calls me Keeva, though, thankfully. It’s Kiki. Easily disguised, unlike Stone, which sounds like a name from a Cheech and Chong movie, by the way,” she retorted, grinning in expectation as she noticed the single twitch in his eye that appeared before every snappy remark.

“Oh, ok. Kiki, as in the Kikimora, right? Kinda suits you, not gonna lie,” he smirked and she shook her head in disbelief at his blatant taunting.

“Lies, lies. Don’t try to deflect, Stoner, you’re the one with the weird name here.”

“It’s not just your name, though, I’ve heard things about you that you wouldn’t believe,” he shrugged, nonchalantly looking around the bar as she froze on the spot.

What the hell…

He looked at her again and leaned forward, motioning her to come closer to him, too. His saucer eyes scanned her with intense sincerity. She frowned but inched closer. He nudged her head with his cheek so he’d be closer to her ear. His hair tickled her carmine face, his warm breath like gasoline on her already flaming ears.

“I’m in your walls,” he breathed out, breaking into a wide pompous smirk when her eyes widened at his audacity. His aquiline nose brushed against her cheekbone as he sat back in his chair, clearly satisfied when she jerked her foot forward, kicking his shin with the tip of her worn-out Docs.

Pavlov’s Stone.

“Ow! I just can’t get enough of that thing you do with your mouth when you’re pissed off, sorry,” he snorted, reaching under the table to rub the spot she’d just hit. As if the blush could get any worse.

“I’m fucking with you. It’s a small world out here. A friend of mine has a band who was told by another band that a band that practices in the Potatohead hired some hot-shot English munchkin as a session musician for their EP. And that she’s wreaking havoc and corrupting the youth of Seattle with good ol’ evil rock and roll,” he shrugged. “And the friend told my band and I told another band…you know how rumours spread like wildfire around starving artists.”

Oh. So the fingers do wrap around a Les Paul. Figures.

“You trying to tell me that I get jobs because of you? My knight in shining armour, pleasure to finally meet the man who puts crusty toasts with a smear of butter on my table each night,” she did a quick dramatic bow and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled when he realized that he didn’t mistake her for someone else.

He’d hoped it was her. He’d be disappointed if it wasn’t.

“Anytime, Baby. If you behave, I might tell another band and you’ll get a slice of cheese on top.”

Is the 'baby' still a part of the routine?

“Charitable. Well, there’s a surprisingly big market for session musicians here. It’s not the most fabulous thing in the world, but I get to play and get paid for it, that’s all I could ever ask for, really.”

He looked so different when he was serious. Older. Stoic. Breathtaking. He nodded and Kiki knew Stone completely understood what she was talking about. It was in those damned eyes.

“Is it fulfilling?”

“What job is? I mean, I work in a café four days a week. When I get to go to the studio, sometimes they give me sheet music, sometimes they tell me to just do whatever, I do my part and go home. Hardly fulfilling for a musician, but you know…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Stone nodded, focusing his distant gaze on the table.

He reached up to his hair and pulled off the scrunchie, letting the brown waves fall in his eyes before carefully tucking them behind his slightly pointy ears.

Her nose was hit with his scent again and she was glad his stare was fixated on the pink fabric he was trying to play Cat's cradle with under the table. He always got to the first loop and let it go again, the scrunchie was way too small for his hands.

“Are you in a band?” he asked, and for the first time that evening, he seemed to be a bit awkward, vulnerable even. It was endearing, another irresistible notch on his belt.

“Do I look like I have any friends?” she chuckled, relieved when he mirrored her smile. The sudden seriousness was overwhelming.

Can this guy do anything in moderation?

“Different strokes...but I’ve heard that you’re fucking great,” he let the compliment hang in the air for a few moments before striking her with another look.

Scrutinizing her. Pinning her to her seat again. She shook her head, hoping the short curls curtain at least a part of her red face.

“Not really. If I was, I would be in a band. I mean, I’ve been here for about a month now, so that’s a pretty short time to find anyone, but still…” she sighed. “I’ve had no time to go and see any gigs yet. I wanted to check out Soundgarden tonight, I’ve heard they’re playing Off Ramp, but…”

His eyes lit up so bright they swallowed her senses and made her lips part in surprise. She thought they couldn’t get any more mesmerizing.

There’s that misbehaving beanpole again.

“No way, are you stalking me? I’m going there, too.”

“Did you get lost on the way? We’ve both been here for hours,” she chuckled and took a drink of the beer that was once again indigestible. She pulled another face and that earned a deep, breathy laugh from him.

“I know a shortcut, Baby. We’ll get you a fresh bottle there, I can’t stand seeing your baby face in pain. Come on, chop-chop or we'll miss it! Jesus, when Chris sees you there, he’s gonna implode!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

i've never been too comfortable writing about real, actual people so if this is awkward, i'm really sorry, i'm working on it ♡ i try to take this as more of an 'inspired by real events' story, so we'll see what comes of it.

sincerest apologies to fellow Pearl Marmelade fans, my brain works in bizzare patterns. Please, don’t stone me. hehe. heh. get it? love you all!

#pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard x oc #90s music #pearl jam imagine #mother love bone #pearl jam #band fic #grunge fanfiction #grunge fic #lmfao i know all the grunge musicians hate the term #i just couldnt help it #fanfiction #fanfic #stone gossard

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tryskomys · 9 months

Text

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 5 - Silencio

Summary: Hessie is in for a rude awakening. Remus crawls through the fallout of his irresponsibility.

previous chapter

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notes: well well well, if it isn’t the consequences of your actions! enjoy!

tw: blood and injuries (in the slashing realm), foul words, damp dreams - not wet, damp. mildly sexy. just a heads up to anyone that’s very uncomfortable with anything that could vaguely resemble forcefullness - this one could bother you. i once again ask minors to sit this one out.

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"Your body deceives you. Don't try to follow me. If you do, I won't be as charitable."

As he stumbled over the clothes, she took advantage of his hesitation, forced out an exhale and stomped up to him. She waved her wand and the lion-shaped doorknob clicked.

Remus looked up from the pile of clothing and pierced her with the most hostile glare she'd ever witnessed. From anyone. She didn't think through her next steps after locking the door, so she opened her mouth and staggered a few steps back.

"I didn't -"

He charged at her, grabbed her by the throat and dangled her in the air all the way to the door. After putting her back on the ground, he slammed her against the wooden surface.

"Are you deaf?" he growled. The question seemed to crawl out of his lungs as if he was in pain. She clawed at his hand, but he didn't budge.

"You're hurting me." she wheezed and kicked him in the shin. She only felt his fingers tremble. He wiped away another pearl of blood on her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

He didn't ease his grip, though.

"Considering that you are doing everything in your power to get hurt, I'm starting to think you're daring me to do it," he said and she felt his heart skip a beat when she pressed her palm against his heaving chest.

She stopped scratching him. Instead, she began caressing his veiny knuckles, touch as soft as a single feather.

"You will be okay," she whispered. He let out a malicious chuckle.

"Don't you feel stupid? Aren't you ashamed of being such a vile, filthy, lying little whore?" he spat out, suddenly letting go of her neck. He hooked his fingers on the collar of her sweater.

She took a few strained breaths and tried the blink away the stars behind her eyelids.

"You talk too much, my friend." she breathed out.

Sneering, he tugged and ripped the fabric down the middle with ease. A cold wave washed over her naked body when ran his fingers along her ribcage and up to her clavicles. He impatiently tapped his elegant forefinger on her throat.

"Silencio."

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt like her vocal cords snapped in half.

He took her cheeks in his freezing palms, nudging his forehead to hers so vigorously her head banged against the door.

She wanted to speak, to scream insults in his face, to whisper a moan in his ear. But no words came out, no matter how hard she tried. She attempted to wiggle closer, to touch him, to tilt her lips forward and finally end this suffering.

He was ruthless. He held her just out of reach, his mouth grazing against hers when he spoke.

"I can smell you, you know. Every inch of your body, every clench of your cunt, every bead of sweat. It hurts so bad I can't speak. It's choking me."

He ran one of his hands along her jawline and grabbed her neck again, squeezing the bruised bare skin once more.

Her brows furrowed and she gasped for air, frustrated tears involuntarily rolling down her flaming cheeks. They fell on his sinewy wrist and alloyed with his own.

His wet eyelashes clumped together as he closed his eyes, his sweaty forehead still pressed against hers.

"Now you know how it feels."

Hessie's cheek was pressed on the burgundy carpet when she woke up. She blinked a few times and realized she fell asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A terrific warm shiver spasmed through her body like someone splashed a boiling kettle under her sweater.

Her throat felt dry and sore as if it was still locked in the phantom grip of the man's slender fingers.

The blood in her ears pounded and deafened her, making everything around her fuzzy. She pushed herself up. A grimace twisted her face as her vertebrae cracked, muscles tender and angry. She stretched with a grunt and looked around the room.

All of their teacups were smashed on the ground, as well as three flower pots that sat in scattered soil. The bookshelf - at least, what was left of it, was now a mountain of wood and books, all moist from tea. The closet next to the door was open and a few of its contents were fallen out.

No sign of Remus.

She loudly sighed and attempted to get up, but her legs failed her when a buzzing black fog overshadowed her vision. When it faded, she tried again and managed to stumble to the armchair and lean on it. Her head was drilled with pain.

She tried to cross her arms, but her limbs were full of dull pain.

She rolled up her sleeves and spotted the purple bruises on her wrists. A sickening wave of fury jolted through her, but it disappeared again when she realized her cheek was stinging.

She walked to the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

The old scars were still there, and so were her unusual eyes. The eye bags under them were slightly more protruding than usual, but what caught her attention was the red smudge on her cheek.

Some blood hardened on the wound overnight, but the stain still seemed fresh to her. She knew that was just a feeling, but she couldn't shake it off.

Your body deceives you.

His voice resonated in her thoughts as she mindlessly waved her wand in different patterns, moving everything in the chamber back to its place.

The clump of clay joined into a chipped flower pot again, and the porcelain cups flew back into their shelves with loud ringing. The bookshelf was the hardest task to repair, but after a few minutes, it stood back at its original place, only missing a few splinters that imploded under Remus's curse.

The only evidence left of last night's full moon was her.

Upon a quick check of her cracked wristwatch, she realized Remus was supposed to have this Monday's class in five minutes. Maybe he was already there. It couldn't hurt to check.

She quickly changed from her sweater to a clean shirt, threw her tweed vest over it and got into her green robes, tucking her wand inside.

She made sure her sleeves were rolled down to hide her bruising.

Hessie wouldn't be surprised if he was alright and just didn't want to see her after last night. She didn't do anything wrong, though.

Did she?

She remembered his words in her dream and her cheeks filled up with a painful blush. She didn't notice that her cut reopened upon the pressure, letting out a fresh pearl of blood.

Did she hurt him?

She rushed through the empty halls, the sound of her stocky heels echoing off the stone floor. When she reached the classroom, she was already two minutes late.

The room was packed, all students had quills and books ready on their desks, whispering among each other.

When they heard her steps, they all looked around and greeted their professor. Hessie walked in, trying to mask her utter terror under a warm smile. He wasn't here.

"Good morning, everyone! Uh..."

She clasped her hands when she leaned against her desk and looked around again as if he was going to pop out of hiding and laugh in her face.

Nothing.

"As you can see, I'm late today. I wholeheartedly apologize, I'm sure you didn't mind having a longer break, though." she raised her eyebrows and earned a few chuckles around the room.

She paused, took a heavy breath and shrugged.

"Sadly, Professor Lupin isn't feeling well today, so you'll have to cope with my old self. I'm sure we'll manage somehow." she gave the confused class a thin-lipped smile and sighed.

"Professor?" Hermione's careful voice caught her attention. She looked up at her and gave the girl a kind nod.

"Are you alright? I mean, there's something on your cheek."

Hessie's eyes widened and her fingers shot up to the wound on her face. It was warm and wet. She forced a grin and grabbed a napkin that was neatly folded on her desk under an empty teacup.

She pat the cut as dry as she could and chuckled.

"Thank you, Hermione. I guess we have an invisible killer cat on the loose."

The students giggled, too tired to think deeper about the implications of their teacher getting a bleeding wound overnight.

"Anyway, his absence also means that tomorrow's duelling class is postponed to Friday. I know -"

She was stopped by sad and disappointed groans.

"I know we'd promised, but Professor Lupin would put Weedosoros in my pumpkin juice if I went through with it without him. We'll do it on Friday and until then, remember to find a partner!" she walked behind her desk and browsed through her textbook.

"Now, the last time when we talked about Kappas, we had to cut the class a bit short and didn't get to practice, is that correct?" she smiled and waved her wand, swiftly catching an apple that flew out of the wicker basket next to the window.

"Now, I'm certain that they're still lurking somewhere in your memory, so before you forget, I'd like to teach you a simple counterspell to scare them off. Wands out and if you need a more coherent commentary than mine, you can find it on the page -"

She scanned the chapter index with her stained fingers, accidentally leaving a small smudge of blood on the paper. She tilted her head in annoyance and quickly tried to wipe her hand on her pants.

The red seemed to be shimmering with some sort of silver glow.

"- page 240 in your books." she smiled and took a bite of the apple, trying to ignore the biting alien sensation in her cheek. She dipped her quill in ink and started scribbling the attendance.

Her ears perked up suddenly.

"Merlin's pants, this beast is almost as scaly as Lupin's robes. He's probably missing because Filch mistook him for rubble and threw him in a trash bin."

Malfoy's hushed voice carried through the classroom and Hessie's eye twitched. She quickly glanced over at him, swallowed and continued writing.

"20 points from Slytherin, Draco. Keep your dashing humour outside the door of my classroom, please." she calmly stated.

He frowned, both confused and insulted by the fact she was using his first name.

"How the fuck did she hear me?"

"25, same goes for swear words."

He just looked at her with a gaping mouth when she finally raised her head.

"You'll come to find that I have a very peculiar kind of hearing."

"But-"

"It's 30 now, Draco, and if I catch you talking without my permission again I'll make it 40. Do we have a deal?" she cut him off mercilessly and took another bite of the apple with a loud crunch as she watched him reluctantly nod, his face full of disgust.

"Splendid," she muttered through the chewed pulp and gave him a sarcastic smile. She swallowed before turning back to the whole class, catching Harry's twinkling green eyes. He admiringly took in her every move but exchanged a puzzled shrug with Ron.

As entertaining as it was, she was uncharacteristically cross today.

"So, are we all ready? Good." Hessie said and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She quickly glanced at her wristwatch before continuing. She wondered where he is. He didn't come back to the office, that's certain.

She moved in front of her desk and hopped up on it, swinging her legs. Harry frowned.

Not only was she shrunk in an exhausted hunch, but he'd noticed the way her cut was twinkling in the first morning sunbeams.

Her tired eyes were relentlessly darting between the students' faces and the door as if she was anxiously waiting for them to burst open.

"This special charm might sound simple, but don't be fooled. It can go very, very wrong if you don't pay your full attention to the conjuring. When I was in school, my friend once -"

A loud knock on the door stopped her and she softly frowned, instinctively grabbing her wand to open them with the flick of her wrist.

A familiar head of greasy black hair popped in, moving like a floating phantom through the corridor between desks.

"Professor Snape! To what do we owe the pleasure?" she questioned, her tone both puzzled and amused. Her friendly face fell, though, when she realized his expression is even stricter than usual.

"I'm gutted to disturb your lesson, professor. Madame Pomfrey demands your presence in the hospital wing." he stoically stated, not taking his eyes off her.

She was a bit taken aback when he stopped only a few inches away from her and bent down to her ear, raising his wand to his neck to cast a muffling spell.

"Lupin is in a lot of pain today. He needs your special skills." he sneered as her face froze, eyes widened in fear for a second before she remembered to compose herself in front of the children.

They were smart enough to realize it has to do with Remus, she didn't need to worry them any more than necessary.

She quickly put down her apple and raised her wand too, digging the tip into her sore muscles so hard she flinched.

"The Wolfsbane hadn't worked this week?" Hessie asked in a hurry and Snape gave her a court nod to disagree.

"Impossible. I have no idea what he was doing last night, but it seems to have mutilated him more than usual. And the slash on your face seems awfully suspicious. I thought we had agreed that you will keep your sagacious eye on him."

"I was trying to st-"

"Must I remind you of the school's policies concerning professors and their sexual relations with nocturnal beasts?"

Her eyes widened as she cursed under her breath.

Is he really bringing this up now?

He must be exaggerating to rile her up, she deduced so from his sharp sarcastic grin. She lowered her wand and turned to her class with a cramped smile.

"I'm very sorry, friends, but it seems like I have urgent matters to attend to. You know that Madame Pomfrey does not take no for an answer." she let out a forced giggle that drowned in protests and groans.

"I'm certain that Professor Snape is more than capable of a substitute." she turned to Snape, silently explaining to him what topic they were supposed to discuss.

The annoyed whispers got louder and she caught Harry's eyes for a second, as if he was begging her to stay. She just gave him a sad nod and swished her wand to throw the unfinished apple into the bin in the back of the class.

"Now now, be nice, everyone. We'll see each other on Friday for the duels. And to the Quidditch players present…best of luck tomorrow!" she added and waved her wand again.

A bundle of red, golden, yellow and black confetti sprung out of the tip and disappeared just before it fell on the table.

That seemed to have added a bit of colour and joy to the student's faces. She quickly turned to Snape, making him twitch when she patted his bony shoulder with a worried expression.

That face apparated him back.

Back to the worst days of his life.

Because the unwavering kindness in Hessie's eyes reminded him of her.

He felt a slight tinge of empathy jolt through his body when she spoke before he got back to his steel hatred.

"Thank you, Severus."

And with a swish of her ragged green robes, Hessie walked through the classroom with a strained grin, muttering goodbyes as she passed by the disappointed students.

Only the ones that sat in the very back of the class caught a glimpse of her smile falling and turning into a very badly concealed grimace of worry and distress.

The muffled sound of closing window blinds accompanied her as she turned around the corner.

Poor children, he seemed to be irritated. Well, even more than usual. She skipped steps and stumbled over the edges multiple times before finally reaching the hospital wing.

She opened the large ornate door and turned right to the private chamber for teachers.

Madame Pomfrey hovered above a tall figure that was curled up in a fetal position, wrapped in a thin blanket. She was pressing a wet rag on his forehead, muttering something under her breath.

When she spotted Hessie's worried frown, she sprung up and hurried towards her, the blood-stained apron fluttering in the rhythm of her steps.

"Oh, dear. Thank Merlin you're here. What happened to your cheek, sweetheart?" she took the younger woman's hand and led her to the bed as if leading a small child.

"Poppy, what's wrong?" she whispered as she stumbled through the room, unceremoniously dragged by her bruised wrist.

"I can't seem to stop the bleeding, I don't know what on Earth he's been doing. The usual charms do not work, Dittany evaporated immediately and he got sick as soon as the Wiggenweld touched his lips."

Hessie's heart dropped when she saw him.

Remus was sobbing, whining as if he was still in his werewolf form, digging bruised fingers into his knees as he hugged his legs. His head was resting in a pool of blood, his fine light hair matted and tangled. He had a large open cut along his neck and another two across his face, from the hairline to the tip of his chin.

The wounds were heavily bleeding, almost unnaturally so. Identical to the way her cut leaked out red.

She cursed under her breath.

"Oh, Poppy. Why didn't you send me an owl in the morning? Shh, it's alright, now. You'll be okay, it won't hurt anymore." she slowly sank onto the bed, hands already stained with blood as she tried to softly brush away the hair that was sticking to his sweaty forehead.

He was burning.

He twitched at her touch, almost as if he thought someone was about to hit him. It's been long since she'd seen him in this kind of state.

Madame Pomfrey sighed.

"Oh, Hessie. He's out of it, his mind isn't with us. If it was up to me, I would've sent you an owl right when Hagrid brought him in. He said he'd found the boy in the woods, he'd carried him all the way here in his arms. Completely naked and bleeding all over, scorching hot to the touch. But I managed to decipher some of his babbling and he begged not to call you in. I thought I'll manage without your spell as usual, but he seems uncommonly distraught today…Severus told me you were teaching, that it would be unwise to disturb you, but then Albus came in and requested your presence."

She tutted and continued.

"Merlin, as if there are not enough teachers in this godforsaken castle, someone could've substituted for you," she muttered irritatedly and sat down on the chair next to the bed, a compassionate tear falling down her wrinkled cheek.

Hessie sighed and took his hand, trying to release it from the cramped grip on his knee.

"It's okay, Poppy. It's not your fault. I don't know…I don't know what could've gone wrong." she gave her a small smile, doing her best to push back the guilt.

She knew exactly what went wrong.

She took out her wand, carefully turning his head to the side where the biggest wound was.

"Hold my hand, Remus. It's going to hurt for a moment, okay? Just squeeze my hand." she whispered, but he whined in protest and tried to squirm away.

"Come on," she said strictly and he reluctantly obeyed this time, bracing his semi-present consciousness for the familiar pain.

Hessie raised her wand to his face and mimicked movements similar to sewing and after a few seconds, a twinkling silver string appeared out of thin air with a silent crack, wiggling into his open wound like a thread.

A groan rumbled in his throat and he dug his fingernails into her knuckles, making her squeeze her eyes in pain for a second before continuing her spell.

She mumbled an intelligible song-like incantation, she was never even sure what she was saying. She only knew that the words helped her concentrate.

The wounds were slowly closing, held together by the silver thread that seemed to soak in the blood until there was only a red angry slash, closed but still emanating a soft sparkling glow, just like yesterday's full moon glittered on the surface of The Great Lake.

"Oh, Hessie, this charm…it is so beautiful to behold….what a shame it has to be used for this." Madame Pomfrey sniffled and breathed out a sigh of relief when the last pearl of blood on his cheek wiggled into the thread.

She quickly rushed to her office to get Hessie some Dittany for her cut and a wet towel so she could wipe away the carmine drops from her hands.

Remus seemed to be a lot more lucid than before, slowly releasing the steel grip he had on her hand and opening his puffy eyes to look at her.

"Don't you dare lock me anywhere ever again. What in Godric's name have you been doing?" she hissed at him when Madame Pomfrey disappeared behind the door.

She quickly regretted her cross demeanour, though, when she saw his guilt-ridden expression.

"I've looked worse, you know that." he simply croaked, his voice hoarse and painful to hear. He must've hurt some of his vocal cords, but she knew that Madame Pomfrey will fix that with a few swishes of her wand.

Before she could say anything, the older woman was back with a spool of gauze, a bowl of water and a towel. Everything floated behind her as if on invisible strings.

"My sweet boy, you are so brave." her motherly voice cracked as she waved her wand to direct the bowl and towel to Hessie's lap and hurried to bring Remus a large goblet of bubbling liquid that emanated a magenta fog.

"I know you are hurting, but you need to drink your Wiggenweld, boy. Pomona saved you some butterscotch pie from the breakfast feast, but you will get it only if you drink this dose to the last drop."

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons @moon-witchs-world

#remus lupin x oc #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders oc #golden trio era #potterhead #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfic #the marauders #professor remus lupin #remus lupin x you #golden trio #remus lupin smut #the marauders fanfiction #remus lupin

33 notes · View notes

tryskomys · 9 months

Text

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 4 - Expulso

Summary: September’s full moon is rising.

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notes: this is uh…6k. take your bucket of tea and biscuits and strap in, reader. any alikeness of full moon remus™ and johnny from n*ked is mostly unintended. i truly apologize for this amalgam of quasi-smutty something. don’t read with your parents. hope you’ll like it though <3

tw: bad words, blood. unsanitary behaviour. unnecessary rudeness, unnecessary hotness, unnecessary humiliation if you squint - it's a wolf thing. minors, this is truly not for you. i know that this warning will probably just make you more curious, but i mean it.

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Weeks passed surprisingly quickly at Hogwarts. When an owl arrived with the first invitation to Hogsmeade, it was unfortunately scheduled on the weekend of the full moon. Hessie tried to convince Remus to stop by for at least a few hours. He has been carefully taking Snape's Wolfsbane, after all.

"Come on, Moony. A little fresh air will clear your head. And a few Butterbeers will dull some of the pain." she told him on the Sunday forenoon.

He resolutely declined, his matted hair tangling as he shook his head, an annoyed expression twisting his distressed features.

"We're not students, we can stop by Hogsmeade any time we want. I can barely walk, Mimi."

"I know...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to patronize you, I'm just -"

"Well then don't!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling.

Here we go, she thought to herself. She bit her lip, trying to mask the way it wobbled.

"I'm just worried, Remus. I thought it could help you relax."

"My favourite relaxing technique is eating children, is it?" he hissed at her, piercing her with a dull stare. She blinked a few times and then averted her eyes to the floor.

A burning sting just appeared inside his knee, as if someone stabbed it with a hot iron stake. The pain spread through his entire leg and made his ears ring. Fueled by the sensation, he chuckled in disdain.

"You can't even look in my disgusting face and you want me to go out and enjoy a drink with you?"

His voice was frigid and hostile. She looked up at him and opened her mouth to respond with some bitter remark, but she decided it would be wiser to let him be.

She spun on her heel and walked up to the kitchen corner, pouring herself a cup of herbal tea.

She heard a heavy sigh behind her, then the armchair legs squeaking against the floor. Then heavy limps got closer until she felt the coldness of his body behind her.

He put his large hands on her shoulders. They were chilly as ice, almost like the blood in his body stopped circulating.

He gave her a little squeeze and then placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. A friendly gesture, but it made her heart giddy.

"I'm so sorry, Mimi. Didn't mean it." he softly apologized. She nodded, leaning her head on his hand for a moment before taking another teacup from the mahogany shelf in front of her.

"I know. It will all get better soon, don't rack your brain over it now. Did you take your potion at night?"

His hands became rigid on her shoulder. He accidentally pinched her skin, so she whipped her head around. The horror on his face was expertly exchanged for an amused raised eyebrow. The grip on her arms didn't ease, though.

Snape's cold voice echoed in his mind.

Twice a day, Lupin. Or there will be grave consequences.

Fuck.

"Of course, I did, do you doubt my sense of responsibility? I was a Prefect, you know." he tried to make his voice as playful as possible. It was exhausting. She seemed to believe him, though, giving him a toothy grin.

"Yeah, I do know. You were always looking away from all the mischief, so I had to become the unpopular Prefect parent. Kinda convenient on your part. By the way, you're hurting me." she raised her eyebrows at him. When the brain fog caused by his chaste kiss finally cleared up, she realized the bruising grip he held her in.

He quickly tore his hands away and chuckled, apologizing. He took the other teacup and sank back into his velvet armchair.

"They're delivering the Grindylow in about an hour. I'm so excited, I haven't seen one in ages," she mumbled, a thrilled twinkle sparkling in her wide eyes. Remus pursed his lips.

"Really? I see one right in front of me."

She gasped and grabbed her Witch Weekly magazine from the kitchen desk and threw it at him. It flew right into the fireplace, all he had to do was move his head a few inches. He snorted with laughter and the tea flew out of his nose.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The Grindylow in question was very agitated by its dire situation, constrained in an aquarium on one of the desks in their office. It was furiously scratching on the glass walls while hissing out spits of water.

Remus And Hessie looked at it in awe, passionately discussing its special colouring.

"The kids are going to love this." she dreamily whispered, making him smile widely. Even though his cheeks were growing more hollow and pale throughout the day, the dimples still didn't disappear.

Her ears caught two voices echoing in the hall outside. One of them was surely Filch and the other one was eerily similar to James. Remus seemed like he was thinking the same thing.

"Speaking of the devil..." he mumbled and stuck his head out of the office door. Harry was walking by alone, heading for the Owlery.

"Oh, Harry! What are you doing here? Where are Ron and Hermione?" he questioned curiously, scanning the boy with raised eyebrows.

Remus was wearing a stretched-out cardigan with big brown buttons over a comfortable-looking cotton shirt. His usual grey suit pants were slightly cuffed, flashing his Gryffindor-coloured socks. Harry just shrugged, sadness glittering in his eyes.

"At Hogsmeade," he mumbled, voice disappointed. Remus completely forgot that the field trip was today, he tried to push the thought of his earlier behaviour out of his head.

"Oh, that's right...well, would you like to stop by our office? They just delivered us a Grindylow for the next lesson." he excitedly tilted his head inside the office. Harry gave him a quizzical brow.

"They delivered you a what?" he blurted out, following Remus into the room. Hessie was still crouching in front of the aquarium, eyes wide in childlike wonder. She turned at Harry, giving him a heartwarming smile and a small wave, motioning him to join her.

Harry couldn't help but blush at the way the woman's eyes calmed him down. She was wearing worn-out jeans and a large shabby sweater, fuzzy like the cat he'd met on the train. Her hair was down for the first time he'd seen her, sticking out in all directions.

The professors seemed to have a day off. The scent of books, chocolate and fresh cotton laundry (presumably her perfume) filled the boy's nostrils, creating a comforting homely sensation in his stomach. He felt the same way when he stayed over at The Burrow. Remus's excited voice tore Harry out of his thoughts.

"It's a water demon. It shouldn't be much trouble for us. You've already gone through Kappas with your professor here, so you're all set. But don't be fooled by its size."

"These beauties have tremendous strength in their fingers, even though they seem tiny. They could crush your neck within seconds with those," she explained, biting her lip when Harry backed away with wide eyes.

Remus threw her a disapproving frown and she stifled a childish giggle. The beast blew a raspberry and then floated into the depths of algae in the corner of the aquarium.

"No worries, Harry. As Professor Lupin said, you'll deal with it just fine." she slapped her knees and got up, walking up to Remus's desk. She gathered a few papers that were scattered around and stacked them in a neat bundle, then she hopped up on the empty spot and crossed her legs.

"Want some tea, Harry? I was just about to boil the kettle." Remus asked and Harry nodded, watching in awe as the man wordlessly knocked on the kettle and watched it puff out steam. Hessie beckoned Harry to sit down on the chair in front of the desk, apologizing for only offering prefabricated teabags.

He was studying her face, not realizing that he wasn't blinking. She raised an eyebrow.

"Is something the matter, James?"

Her eyes widened and so did Harry's.

"Merlin's beard. I'm sorry, Harry. You're just…"

That was everything she managed to stutter out. The glint in her eyes was acting as a mirror to his surprised face, but none of her tears rolled out. He wanted to ask a thousand questions all at once, about his dad, if she knew him, how she knew him, who he was. To sit here for hours and listen to her stories.

Were they friends? Enemies? Lovers?

"How did you get these scars?" was all Harry blurted out, regretting his question immediately after it left his lips. He got even more red now, feeling like his ears might let out steam as well. His eyes were widened in horror, but she gave him a mischievous grin.

Remus was too occupied with preparing three cups to hear the conversation.

"What if I told you that I got them in a battle with a Werewolf?" she hissed, theatrically jerking her body forward to make him jump in his seat. She giggled at his reaction, her heart easing when he echoed her laughter.

He was glad she took his personal question with humour. Even the most powerful wizard could not survive a duel with a Werewolf, he'd learned that from Lockhart's fake stories.

"Did you win?" Harry asked with an amused grin. It was as if James was sitting right in front of her. Her smile turned slightly sad before she straightened her back, putting on a humorous self-important facade.

She looked like she was mocking Snape's usual demeanour, the boy thought.

"If I told you, I would have to kill you," Hessie whispered and he chuckled again, thanking Remus when he gave him his tea. The shabby man walked around Hessie and rested in the armchair behind his desk.

Harry sat in front of them, staring into his cup. Small oil stains were forming on the surface, catching onto the porcelain walls. He looked lost in thought.

Not only was he imagining what kind of adventures she and his father lived through, but now he felt like even more of a coward, considering she probably compared Harry's courage to him.

"Anything that's troubling you, Harry?" Remus asked when he noticed the boy's thoughtful gaze. His voice was full of parental concern, something Harry has never encountered before.

He wondered if the man knew his parents as well.

"No...I mean, yes." Harry mumbled. Hessie furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. The boy was worried that he might've aggravated her somehow, but her strange eyes were filled with the very same emotion as Remus's kind words.

"Do you remember the lesson on Boggarts?"

"Of course." Remus simply stated, curious. Hessie just nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. Harry took a breath as if he wanted to inhale some courage.

"Why didn't you let me face him?"

Silence filled the room for a few moments before Hessie spoke, her tone was as calm as ever.

"We thought that the reason was quite obvious," she answered. Harry seemed impatient.

"But why?"

Remus cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes.

"We expected it would take the form of Voldemort."

Harry was in awe. He'd never heard someone call the dark wizard by his true name, except for Dumbledore.

Neither of the professors seemed shaken in the slightest, though. Like it was a completely normal and common name.

"I'd thought of him at first, but then I remembered the night on the train..."

Remus and Hessie exchanged a silent nod, it seemed to Harry as if they were talking about the Boggart incident before.

"Hats off to you, Harry. You are very wise, then. That means the thing you fear the most is fear itself." Remus ended the sentence with a sweet smile.

He looked very similar to the way Harry saw him on the train, but the young boy could swear he looked somehow...worse, now.

Not so tired, but very on edge, like he was about to scream from the top of his lungs any second. His cheeks seemed to hollow through the conversation and the professor was blinking quicker and quicker.

But none of it affected the endless softness towards his friend's son. Harry didn't seem scared, it was intriguing more than anything.

"You were worried that we didn't let you because we thought you weren't skilled enough?" Hessie questioned, leaning on her knees. Harry just nodded and before he could say anything, a loud knock on the door interrupted him.

"Come in!" Remus called, his smile growing wider when Snape entered the room, carrying a big smoking goblet of dangerous-looking turquoise liquid. When the man in black robes noticed Harry, he scrunched his nose a little before turning his attention to Remus.

"Here's your potion, Lupin. I made you a whole cauldron if you need extra aid."

"Ah, Severus. Many thanks." the young professor answered, taking the goblet from Snape.

It seemed to hurt him to stand up as he stretched for the potion and sat back down with a huff, putting the potion on the table. Snape didn't move.

"You should drink it now."

"I will make sure of it, Severus. Thank you." Hessie gave the man a soft smile. She did mean it. There was a flash of something unidentifiable in his gaze before he spun on his heel and walked out of the office without a word.

She looked at her friend with raised eyebrows when he didn't immediately start drinking. He tilted his head as if to scold her for watching over him like he was a little child. A wave of irritation washed over him, similar to the one earlier that day.

Harry cleared his throat, a bit distraught.

The smoke that the potion emanated smelled rancid and the bubbles on the surface hissed each time they popped. He was cautiously staring at it, eyes darting between the goblet and Remus.

He realized the boy is still in the room and turned his attention to him.

"I don't feel too well from time to time, Harry. This potion is the only thing that helps me. I'm very lucky to have Professor Snape as my colleague, this brew is extremely difficult. He's a wonderful Potionsmaster. I barely got an 'Acceptable' in my O.W.L.s."

● ● ● ● ● ●

They were serving steaks at the dinner feast. How convenient, Hessie thought as she watched Remus devour the bloodiest steak he could find in the mountain of meat in front of him.

Even Flitwick was curiously studying him from the other end of the table, not used to his old student being this unruly.

She cleared her throat and softly elbowed him in the ribs. He whipped his head around, staring at her with furrowed brows as if he was berating her for interfering. The circles under his eyes were dark purple now, contrasting with his pale face.

"What?" he spat out, mouth full of broiled potatoes. She scowled.

"Could you try and be more civil with your raw steak? It's not going to run away, you know."

He shook his head and shrugged, gulping down his potatoes. He still had frustration written all over his face.

"Didn't know it was illegal to eat around you, now. Besides," he took a moment to chomp another piece of the meat on his plate.

"It's almost up there. I'm leaving for the Shack tonight so you can enjoy your me-time, have a wank or something."

"W- what!?" she yelped. McGonagall snapped her head at Hessie and pierced her with a strict glare.

"Sorry, Minerva. I just realized the green stuff on the potatoes is parsley -" she half whispered, leaning back on her chair and tilting closer to the older woman.

"- and I'm allergic." she ended with an uncomfortable giggle. McGonagall was pretty blunt about not believing her a word, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"You should ask Severus for some calming brew, then. Preferably in silence so the students wouldn't turn their heads," she stated coldly and turned her attention back to her dinner.

Hessie's whole face turned the same shade of red as the pieces of Remus's steak. She wiggled her chair closer to the table again and leaned her elbows on it, slowly lowering her head into her palms.

She didn't look at Remus, glueing her stare on the drops of vinegar on her salad.

"What do you mean the Shack? If anyone sees you, you'll get yourself fired on the spot." she hissed, grabbing her fork while the other hand still supported her flaming forehead.

Remus just finished his steak and dug around his salad to pick out tomatoes, pushing them around to an unwanted bundle.

"Not my fault you're so nosy."

"We had agreed that we'll stay locked in our chambers. I know you're nervous if the Wolfsbane worked, but Dumbledore counts on you staying in the castle. There's no reason for the potion to be faulty." she ignored his bitter remark, vigorously stabbing a tomato with her fork out of spite and throwing it in her mouth.

He didn't react, he just continued to play with the last potato on his ornate plate.

Usually, he'd give her a disapproving look, but now he didn't take his eyes off the food in front of him.

A bloodcurdling shiver ran through her throat as she slowly swallowed her bite.

"There's no reason for the potion to be faulty, am I correct?" she asked, her voice coming out as a mere trembling squeak.

He shrugged, nonchalantly checking his watch. Six o'clock. It was already dark outside. She lowered her tone to the most hushed whisper she could manage.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. If this is your idea of a joke, then you can shove it up your -"

"My alarm clock cracked in my suitcase on the way here."

She gasped, choking on the lone tomato seed that was stuck in her throat.

Professor Sprout who sat beside her turned away from her conversation with Madame Pomfrey and slapped Hessie's back a few times, probably leaving behind red marks of her small chubby fingers.

"Are you alright, my dear?" she questioned, worryingly scanning the young woman's ruddy face. She nodded and forced a tiny smile.

"Thank you, Pomona. Bloody tomatoes." she wheezed and Professor Sprout chuckled, turning her attention back to the Matron. They continued a boisterous conversation about Sprout's growing collection of Angel's Trumpets.

"Aren't you a fucking wizard?!" she soundlessly screeched again. He seemed to be extremely fed up with her cross-examination.

"If you're so interested in what I do at night, maybe you could've reminded me, smartass," he said matter-of-factly. She gripped her fork tighter.

"Do I look like your mother?"

"Am I interrupting a lovers' quarrel?"

Snape's greasy hair appeared in her peripheral as he sat down next to Remus and took a sip of his wine. Remus's fingers started trembling and he took a breath to shoot Snape down with some stabbing remark, but Hessie was faster.

"On the contrary, Severus. We were just discussing the wonders of potion-making," she stated, throwing Remus a glare.

Snape seemed to notice and his mouth twitched with something that vaguely resembled a smile.

"Interesting. I could've sworn I heard Lupin call you a smartass. Must have been just a misinterpretation." he raised an eyebrow. Remus whipped his head around and Snape was a bit taken aback by how ill he looked.

"Sounds to me like you were spying on us, Sniv-"

"The potatoes are excellent today, don't you think, Severus?" Hessie loudly interrupted him, trying to smile through embarrassment when Snape's eyes widened in anger. He quickly gained his steel composture back, though.

"I prefer meat. If Lupin has left me any, that is." he taunted, casually taking another sip of wine.

That was the last drop for Remus. He swiftly got up, pushing his chair away with a loud creak.

He grabbed his plate, with the last potato and cherry tomatoes still rolling around, and curtly bowed.

"Good evening." he simply said and walked out of the buzzing Great Hall in long, shaky strides. Madame Pomfrey was the one to speak to Hessie now.

"Is Remus not feeling well, darling?" she questioned, her eyebrows knitted in worry. Hessie forced a gulp of wine down her throat and answered with a thin-lipped smile.

"Just a bit shaken, Poppy. You know."

"Well, you better go check on him. And stop by my chambers as soon as he feels abnormally sick, alright?" the older woman said, waving Hessie off as if she was just a roaming student. Professor Sprout fiercely nodded.

"I was just about to leave. I will let you know if - yeah." she managed to stutter out and hopped up, leaving her plate on the table. As soon as she stepped away, it floated into the air and levitated out of the door, disappearing.

Hessie said her goodbyes and hurried out of the door, ignoring Snape's bitter wish of sweet dreams.

She rushed through the hallways to their office, up the short stairs and through the invisible membrane that hid their chambers behind a wall.

She stomped through the narrow corridor between their rooms and entered the small common chamber. The door was already open. The flames were alight in their fireplace and disrupted the tense silence with loud cracks.

Remus was standing in front of it, bluntly staring at her, chomping on a large Mars bar. He was clearly trying to finish it as quickly as possible and get out of her presence. She crossed her arms.

"Which way?"

"What's it to you?"

"I asked you a question." she spat back at him, frowning when he theatrically rolled his eyes. He seemed at least two inches taller than usual, which was frankly already too much.

His elegant fingers were clutching the chocolate bar as if his life depended on it. Her eyes darted between them and his annoyed expression.

"Gregory the Smarmy passage, into the woods, under the Willow. Are we done with 20 questions? I have to leave."

Her frown grew deeper and she shook her head in disbelief. He was always on edge on the full moon nights, but it seemed somehow worse now. She didn't detect the usual remorseful undertone in his insults.

And the last time he'd declined company, she got away with a deep slash on her face. But that was ages ago.

"You think I'll leave you alone?"

He raised his eyebrows, sarcastically nodding.

"I mean, I hope so."

"Tough luck, buddy. I'm going with you. We have to figure out how to sneak out, though. Quickly." she took a glance at the big cuckoo clock above the fireplace. Seven o'clock.

She crossed the room and buried her arm into her patchwork handbag, trying to find something in the depths of the enlargening spell. She knocked over a bottle of Butterbeer inside.

He wasn't sure what she was looking for, but he didn't care, either.

He just took a bite of his sweet snack and spun around, making his way to the door. She had to do a double-take between him and the bag to realize he was trying to sneak out.

"Are you five? Can you wait for a second? We still have an hour." she called over her shoulder and sighed with frustration, taking off her green robes. She fished out her wand and dropped the fabric on the floor. She pointed the tip of it inside the bag.

"Accio Map!" she muttered and three yellowing tubes of parchment flew out. She clumsily grabbed them in the air with both hands and rolled them all open, trying to find the one holding the map of Hogwarts.

"Godric, I could've specified that." she shook her head and mindlessly tucked her wand into the small loop on her pants.

She dropped the two other maps and stared into the correct document while walking to the door.

"It's not the Marauder's but it will have to do."

She didn't have time to react when he swung his wand to levitate a teacup, trying to throw her off balance. He smashed it against the floor right in front of her and the liquid exploded, splashing her boots.

A piece of porcelain chipped away and bizarrely flew into the air, leaving a small cut on her cheekbone before falling back on the carpet. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull when she looked at him, primal fury burning in her eyes.

He felt a nauseating sensation of hunger when he noticed the tiny carmine drop dripping down her cheek.

This is bad.

She blinked a few times, threw the map aside and grabbed her wand, daintily twirling it in the air to suck water out of the pitcher on the window. She quickly transcribed a precise circle in the air, forming a large floating bubble.

When she was positive it gained enough corporeality, she violently swung her arm, throwing it in Remus's face.

The bubble smashed against his skin with a muffled pop. He didn't even manage to notice the stench of iron in his nose before she expertly spun her wand again, this time forming the bubble out of the lukewarm tea in their teapot. She fired it into his chest with similar vigour as before, sending him stumbling back a few inches.

She knocked the wind out of him, so he wheezed and punched his ribcage a few times before finally realizing his nose was intensively bleeding.

He was growing increasingly disturbed, fully aware that he was losing the grip on his sanity.

If he was oblivious to his state of mind, his life would be a lot easier.

He sliced through the air with his wand like he was trying to cut it open, sending the coat hanger to the ground. She stumbled over it and barely managed to find her balance when he forcefully sent another tea cup flying. This time he aimed at her head and she swiftly dodged it, watching it smash against the books behind her.

She hoped the soundproofing spell was working.

Staring at the blood on her face caused a momentary lapse in his attention, allowing her to gain some time.

"Will you stop throwing things at me?" she grunted. As a last resort, she put all her force to trying to block the door by moving a closet in front of it. A few worn-out shirts and Remus's coat fell out, but the construction hadn't moved at all.

She was getting overwhelmed by the adrenaline, it made even the easiest of spells incredibly taxing. This situation seemed to suck the energy out of her and transfer it to him.

He seemed to be perfectly fine, apart from his face growing more pale with every passing moment. And the dark blood that was dripping from his nose

Her bubble might've broken it, he wasn't sure, the pain was non-existent to him.

"I will if you stop following me."

He emphasized the last three words by smashing flower pots against the floor, now sending them to burst next to her. He hadn't tried basic intimidation yet, so he decided to give it a go.

She flinched at each crack, but it didn't stop her from stomping through the shards. She just fiercely flung her hand and a protective glowing shield appeared around her boots before becoming transparent.

He didn't have to say a word, she recognized the straight line movement he drew with his wand. And the miniature blue orb that shot out, twinkling through the air as it tried to hit her.

Expulso.

Hessie's feline senses didn't fail her this time. She barely managed to duck, the orb flew by her ear with a high-pitched shrill and hit the bookshelf behind her. It began to crumble and fall upon the impact, but she quickly flicked her wand.

All the pieces suddenly moved in slow motion, defying gravity and unnaturally floating down on the carpet like a weightless feather. She watched the books and chunks of wood glide their way to the floor, mouth open in disbelief.

When she whipped her head back at Remus, he attempted to swallow the horror down his dry throat, but that only made it worse. He succeeded in staying perfectly still and masked his anxiety with a strict glare.

Her eyes were flaming with fury as she slowly walked up to him, just like a lioness prowls to her prey.

Remus could swear he saw her pupils shrink into slits for a split second.

He was glued to the ground, listening to the last echoes of humanity in his mind. They were telling him to stay put and not move a muscle. Maybe he would seem invisible to the moon that way. When she spoke in a silent voice, a frigid shiver ran through his vertebrae.

"Did you just try…to curse me?"

"You disobeyed and didn't stay where I told you to stay. You're being a bad kitty," he growled back at her.

The blunt sarcasm that dripped from his words stabbed her right in the abdomen.

She was merely a few steps away from him and he involuntarily took a step back, breaking the concentration he so desperately clung to. She reacted with a joyless smirk, her eyes now clearly cat-like.

"Oh, am I? How about I claw your fucking eyes out? Right now I'd manage to do that and never transform an inch of my skin."

He let out a bleak chuckle, now certain that he was slowly being cornered. He raised his wand again and so did she.

"I don't want to hurt you, love." he simply stated, emphasizing the last word with extra venom. Besides the anger, a new emotion flashed in her eyes - fear. She always took him for the better duelist.

"I'm not made of porcelain, you couldn't hurt me if you tried." she hissed and he broke into a smug smirk, detecting the slight strain in her voice.

He was fiercely battling the fact that it made him satisfied, thrilled, even.

You're a sick fuck, Lupin. A sick, sick brute.

That's the mantra he repeated in his brain over and over again. He was desperately trying to grasp it and shield himself from the Sword of Damocles that was hanging above his head. He could feel the carnal snap creeping in second by second.

It seemed to him like the moon sped up rising just to torment him.

She didn't seem to notice the growing madness in his eyes, only catching how his long fingers flexed around the handle of his wand. Thanks to his omnipotent senses, he caught her slip of concentration. He truly was in a foul mood now.

"If you stopped staring at my hands like a filthy slut, maybe your intimidation would be more convincing."

Words couldn't describe the whirlpool of emotions that rapidly shifted on her face when she snapped her sight back to his face. He still had a pompous sneer plastered all over it. A breath hitched in her throat as she narrowed her eyes, trying to build up the courage to continue cornering him.

"W- what did you just call me?"

The sentence came out as a mere whisper. He didn't move.

"I called you a sl- "

"I FUCKING HEARD YOU!"

Her scream resonated through the stone walls of their common room and she took the remaining steps to get as close as she could, digging the tip of her wand into the soft flesh under his chin.

He didn't even flinch at the sting of it. The sensation merely widened his smile and he let out a cold scoff.

"I wonder how well you'd hear me if I used one of Snape's little deafening charms. Or maybe a silencing one, so I don't have to listen to your constant nagging. Frankly, I should put that aggravating mouth of yours to better use."

The fading mankind in him couldn't believe his own words. Hessie responded with a strange inhuman noise that vaguely resembled a cat's snarl.

"You mean like letting me blast your brains out? You're tempting me."

"Likewise. Dear god, you see right through me. Always so insightful." he raised an eyebrow and proudly put his chin down to pierce her wand even deeper.

His wand was pointed at her heart and painfully poked into one of her breasts. Intentional or not, she wasn't sure. He continued.

"Although, you don't need your voice for that. You've always excelled in non-verbal magic, top of the class."

What the -

"That was a compliment. You're supposed to say 'Thank you, my dearest friend.' now."

It was like he could smell her thoughts. That wasn't a very comfortable feeling.

"Thank you for being a sarcastic prick? Endless gratitude. Want a golden star and your shoes polished for that?"

Remus snorted with laughter, tilting his chin as if he wanted to impale himself. He didn't appreciate being talked to this way at the moment. Her brows knitted, aware that he was winning the taunt war.

He loudly sighed and lowered his wand. He attempted to seem bored.

"Look, I'm getting kind of agitated and this could get pretty ugly real fast. So could you spare me this quasi-threatening hissing of yours and be on your merry way?"

"You have such a sunny disposition, has anyone ever told you?" she sneered and narrowed her eyes.

The smug smile started fading from his face, slowly turning into a frightening scowl. She hid her shudder by clearing her throat and impatiently bit the inside of her cheek.

"Be honest with yourself, do you actually want me to let you leave on your own?"

That slowed down his racing thoughts. Did he want that? Of course not. He hasn't been all by himself on a full moon for ages. It's not like he wasn't ready for the transformation, he was used to coping without Snape's potion.

But now, being back in Hogwarts seemed to change something in him. As if the castle's aura corrupted his mind. Maybe missing a dose of Wolfsbane made all of this worse.

Remus felt feral, his exhaustive senses were sending him over the edge. He felt like one big exposed nerve. And he couldn't risk being in her company, cat or human.

"Can't your almighty brain figure that out by itself?" he growled. He felt his remaining patience leak out of his ears.

The moon was nearly above The Great Lake and he could no longer trust himself around her. Even worse, he started to lose any care about that fact. Her frown just deepened.

"Why can't you just fucking say it? Why is it so difficult to admit that you need someone?" Hessie questioned, her voice loud in his ears. He flinched at the piercing sensation in his eardrums, his head pounding.

"If you don't let me go immediately, I will stop holding myself back. Trust me." he threatened, his voice hoarse and deeper than usual. His eyes seemed almost black now, eclipsed by their dilated pupils.

She attempted to gather some courage by straightening her back but failed.

"I'm not afraid of you, Lupin." she tried to sound as hostile as possible. Once again, she didn't succeed. He raised an eyebrow.

"You are not? You should be," he muttered, slowly bending closer to her. She finally lowered her wand and tried to back away. He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and yanked her back, using his other hand to grab the collar of her sweater.

Remus bent down once again, but instead of choking her as she'd feared, he gently licked the carmine tear of fresh blood on her cheek and then ever so softly nuzzled his bleeding nose against her neck, taking in a trembling breath.

Her scent jolted through his senses like boiling lead, poisoning his mind with thoughts that made his sunken cheeks burn. His overwhelmed mind suddenly felt like a stretched balloon right before it bursts.

The facial hair on his chin scratched the soft skin of her clavicles, leaving behind red dots. Her heart was beating against her ribcage, delicious pain pulsing through her stomach.

She felt as if someone threw a bucket of simmering liquid on her face as her eyes fluttered closed, his warm exhale leaving goosebumps behind. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"Your body deceives you," he grunted silently, his voice now almost unidentifiable. She felt his iron grip flex on her wrists when he breathed in her scent once more.

"Don't try to follow me. If you do, I won't be as charitable."

Then he let go of her with a jerk, avoiding her eyes like a plague. He backed away, stumbling over the clothes that fell out of the closet behind him. He barely gained stability again before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him, not sparing her a single glance.

She hesitated for a few seconds before running to the door, her legs wobbling.

As soon as she reached the doorknob, though, it ominously clicked. She tried to pull it, wiggling it left and right, but it didn't budge.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" she shrieked and flung her wand furiously, swinging the door open as the doorknob ripped out of its slot and fell on the floor with a dull thump. The hallway was empty.

Remus was long gone, leaving behind only the scent of blood and a crumpled wrap from his Mars bar.

She knew where he was rushing.

I hope you'll rot there.

And think of me.

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons @moon-witchs-world

32 notes · View notes

tryskomys · 9 months

Text

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 3 - Riddikulus

Summary: Remus and Hesperia teach their first class. Prepared and excited, nothing can go wrong…right?

previous chapter

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notes: chapter threeee! i hope you’ll all enjoy. the next part will be…let’s call it a rollercoaster, okay? hopefully. that’s a spoiler, so it’s just between us, reader.

tw: some bad words. snape’s psycho breakfast. also, a bit of werewolf body horror - so that’s a bit nasty if you’re squirmish. and i feel like the squirm-factor will only get worse from now on, so beware of that, my sweet squirmish pals. squirm.

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"I don't know, it just came up in my mind. He looked at me like he was watching it happen." Hessie lamented about last night’s uncomfortable memory, lazily buttoning up her shirt. She was inside her chamber, talking to Remus over a half-closed door.

They had separate rooms opposite each other. They joined in a short corridor, which led to a small common room with a cosy fireplace, stone walls and a soft burgundy carpet. There were frescos of constellations on the ceiling, similar to the ones in their classroom.

A floating porcelain pitcher was watering the greenery that was decorating the windowsills of the gothic windows.

It strongly resembled the ambience of the Gryffindor Tower. She wondered if the chambers were accustomed to whoever stayed inside. The entire complex was hidden with an enlargening spell behind the door to their shared office, soundproofed from any inventive students that might enjoy spying on professors in their spare time.

After all, she wasn't a stranger to eavesdropping, courtesy of her unruly best friends.

Remus's head popped out of his ajar door. He was just in the middle of putting his red-and-yellow socks on. Lily Potter had knit them for him for his seventeenth birthday.

"Are you suggesting that Snape is a Legilimens?"

He got a confused hum for an answer.

"That's absurd." he chuckled and disappeared into his room again, taking a shoebrush from his trunk to polish his oxfords. He managed to make them at least slightly shiny.

As he tightened the thin shoelaces, Hessie walked out of her room, a tweed vest lazily thrown around her shoulders. She made her way to the small kitchen-like corner.

"What's absurd is the way he treats his students. I overheard a couple of fifth years yesterday while leaving the feast. They discussed how he makes them test a potion's accuracy on their animals. Want a cuppa?" she glanced over her shoulder as he came in, his fuzzy tie still hanging untied around the collar of his shirt.

It felt like they were back at their Yorkshire cottage. The only difference was the fireplace. And the king's beds with feather duvets. And not having to scrap for food. There was actually so much food she didn't know what to do with it. She felt like she could retrospectively feed her starving self.

He walked to a bookshelf next to the door, gathering a few schoolbooks.

"Yes, please," he muttered and opened the well-used copy of The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger.

He sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace, crossing his legs as he browsed through it all the way to the chapter index.

"Oh, marvellous. We're supposed to do Boggarts first."

Hessie whistled. She carried two ornate teacups that resembled goblets. They were made out of black porcelain instead of metal. The cups dangerously wiggled on their saucers and Remus hopped up to take one of the cup to help her and put it on the coffee table next to him.

She sank in the other armchair with a sigh, carefully sipping her milk tea so she wouldn't burn her tongue.

"I was thinking of trying Boggarts first as well, it's an interesting and handy subject. But you're the one on duty this time, so I guess you'll have to manage by yourself."

"I'm not sure I can do it without you, love." he mused with a smirk before taking a sip from his cup. She gasped and kicked his shin. She despised that pet name. James and Sirius always used it to piss her off. She hated how condescending it was.

It sounded somewhat endearing from Remus, though.

"With this attitude, you'll be lucky to live long enough to show up for the class at all." she hissed at him and took another sip of her tea, this time so vigorously she scorched her mouth. She cursed, Remus just giggled, and continued to search through the textbook.

He still looked so beaten down, purple circles were bordering his eyes, his skin pale and dull. As the first sunbeams entered the room, she could see familiar twinkles in his sad eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked silently, nudging his leg with hers, this time softly. He looked up from the book.

The silver strands in his hair were a lot more protruding than when they were students, but she felt like it made him even more handsome. Like fine wine in a cellar, he aged under the moonlight's glow, remaining startlingly beautiful despite all the suffering he had to endure.

That boyish charm in his grin was never snuffed out, the dimples above his mouth as cheeky as ever.

"Never better," he replied, his tone laced with both sarcasm and honesty. The duality of the man, she thought as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head as if she wanted to get rid of the blush on her face. The one that spilt all over her whenever he smiled at her.

She stood up and walked to the bookshelf, nudging the back of his head when she walked by him.

"It's missing a few essentials. I need to check the library, coming?" she muttered and put on the vest after grabbing her green robes from a lion head-shaped hanger. Remus shrugged, fishing a Mars bar out of the pocket of his pants. It was a bit melted, but tasty nonetheless when he took a big bite.

"Do you still think Madame Pince is still there?" he mumbled curiously.

"That old hag? Hope not. She took 30 points from me once, just because I brought her Earl Grey instead of Ceylon. As if she was allowed to assign students slave work in the first place."

"You put a frog in her teacup, Mimi."

"That was Padfoot's idea!"

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As the week passed by, they spent most of their time in the library researching and preparing for their classes. It was as if they were fifth-years again, furiously scribbling notes on their parchments. Even Madame Pince was still sitting behind her mahogany desk, as hostile as ever.

The only thing they were missing was Sirius Black’s taunting, James Potter’s annoyingly attractive voice calling them ‘book-flobberworms’ and Peter Pettigrew’s constant questions about when they were finally leaving for lunch.

And of course, Lily Evans sitting between them, her flaming red hair in their peripherals.

When Thursday came, Remus felt considerably more sick than on the night they arrived, which was quite ironic. He looked a lot better now, the circles under his eyes were slowly going back to their usual light beige and the few new scratches on his face were closed up, now pale pink.

His hair was a bit more tameable as well, his cheeks somehow fuller and even more dimpled than usual when he gave Hessie his signature disarming smirk. He was very pleased when he looked in the mirror in the morning. Not that he felt handsome, he never did. But he looked alive and that's what mattered to him the most.

The nerves were eating him up from the inside, though, fingers shaking as he held a fork with scrambled eggs. He was looking around the Great Hall, trying to remember as many Gryffindor and Slytherin faces as he could. He hoped it will make him feel a bit more comfortable when it comes to facing a classroom full of strangers. Hormonal teenagers, for that matter.

Hessie sat beside him, a bit less on edge, as her first class was scheduled for tomorrow. She felt terrible for him, though.

"You'll be excellent, Moony, I'm sure of it."

"What if I hurt them, Mimi?" he blurted out, his voice strained and trembling. She sighed and took his hand, lowering it back on the plate so the eggs wouldn't fall on his shabby robes.

"You still have more than two weeks and you're starting Snape's brew tomorrow, there is no reason to -"

"Will you go with me? Please…" he cut her off, lowering his voice when Snape sat beside him, carrying a plate with a single over-toasted slice of bread and a lump of unmelted butter slapped on top of it.

As soon as it touched the table, the empty cup in front of him filled itself with tea so black it almost matched his robes.

Remus felt like a small boy begging his mother to go to school with him. Hessie mindlessly darted across Snape’s plate and then nodded.

"Of course I will. I'll just work on my notes and be an emotional support cat. I’m quite good at that, am I not?" she grinned and he let out a sigh of relief, finally gathering the courage to take a bite of his scrambled eggs without the fear of throwing up.

"I was actually kind of hoping you'll demonstrate. You've always been better at charms."

"You received an ‘Outstanding’ in N.E.W.T.s, Remus."

"Besides," he interrupted and ignored her biting remark.

"You know what my Boggart is. It could…you know. Raise some suspicions."

Hessie panicked. Did he forget what hers was? Before she could argue, though, a deep voice filled her ears.

"So, Lupin. I've heard that you are teaching your first class today. I would like to wish you good luck. And a smooth process. After all, we would all be very disturbed if an accident occurred." Snape sneered, his voice frigid and sarcastic.

He took a sip of his tea, not even flinching at the nauseating bitterness. Remus closed his eyes for a second and then turned at him, a wide smile plastered on his face.

Hessie just dug a fork into her fluffy pancakes, stuffing her cheeks to the limit. She had to make sure she wouldn’t be able to hex him right on the spot. Her nostrils were trembling with anger, though.

"Thank you, Severus. I truly appreciate your kindness." Remus stated calmly, biting his cheek when Snape responded with a twitch of a forced smile. The cold man continued.

"Speaking of accidents, your potion is nearly ready. Stop by my office around eleven o’clock to gather tomorrow's dose. I will continue to bring it to you on every odd date until the last seven days prior your…imminent sickness. Then you will switch to a full goblet twice a day for the entire week. No pauses, no misses. It is very important for you to remember. Write it on Lynx's forehead if you have to."

He ignored the furious look Hessie gave him when he mentioned her.

"One last thing - mentally prepare yourself for its unique taste. I have not sampled it, for obvious reasons, but it smells like a troll's lair. And no cheating, sugar devalues its properties." he muttered and quickly got up, his black robe swishing behind him as he walked away, holding his plate with an almost disgusted expression.

"I swear to Godric I will cut him open one day."

After spending the rest of the day in the library, they made their way to the classroom in silence, both too nervous to hold a conversation. When they reached the door, they gave each other one last look. Hessie straightened his fuzzy tie and tapped his shoulder as he straightened her robes, brushing off a few cat hairs she had on her arm.

He gave her a warm smile and then opened the door, walking inside the filled room with long strides as she jogged to catch up with him.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" he said with a calm, soft voice. Hessie didn't detect any signs of stress on him. After all, he was an expert in masking himself. She echoed his greeting.

"Professor Lynx is here only as a spectator today, you will get to know her wits up close tomorrow. As for today, please, close your books and pack your things. We will only need our wands today. I would like to start this semester with a practical lesson." Remus stated. The students exchanged confused looks and whispers filled the classroom. They were quite curious though, so they obeyed.

"All packed? Wonderful! Let's be on our way, then. Please, follow us." he said and walked back to the door, waiting for everyone to gather in a group. Hessie led the way next to him, clutching a packet of pumpkin pastries. They moved through the empty hallways, heading for the professors' lounge.

On their way, though, they were blocked by Peeves. The most infuriating poltergeist under the sun, in Hessie’s opinion. When he spotted them, he let out a shrieking laugh.

"Fucking hell…" she muttered, silent enough for only Remus to hear. He just grinned widely. He beamed as if he was delighted to meet Peeves again.

"Loony loopy Lupin, lousy little Lynx - sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I -"

"Well, that brings out some memories. Peeves, would you be so kind and move? We were just on our way to the -"

Peeves just blew a raspberry, raising his transparent hands to give Remus a middle finger. The only obstacle was that he didn't have any fingers. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled at the implication of the ghost’s sing-song, their cheeks flaming with a blush. Remus just sighed and took his wand out of the depths of his robes.

"Pay close attention, everyone. This is a very useful repelling spell, it is truly a multitasker. Waddiwassi!" he exclaimed and performed a stabbing motion with his wand. Peeves rotated in the air for a few seconds as the spell threw him about five feet back, it looked like he was hit with an invisible projectile.

Remus gained admiring gasps from the students.

Hessie snorted with laughter, covering her mouth so she wouldn't spit out the tea she’d just sipped from her chipped thermo flask. It came out of her nose instead.

"That was so cool, professor!" Dean Thomas mused as Peeves flew away, loudly complaining with foul words. Remus turned around and gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you, Dean! Let's move, shall we?"

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"I'd love to ask my wonderful assistant for today to do a little demonstration. Would you be so generous, professor?" Remus beckoned to Hessie. She did a little curtesy, making the students giggle in anticipation. She took a bite of her pumpkin pastry and took her wand out of the tweed vest.

Hermione and Harry answered Remus's questions about the nature of a Boggart and the advantages of fighting it in a group. The closet in the middle of the room ominously shook every few moments, rattling with every move. Everyone in the room trembled as well - from fright. Except for the two teachers.

"By all means, professor."

A few nervous chuckles accompanied her as she positioned herself in front of the ornate cabinet and brushed off pastry flakes that settled in the corners of her lips with the back of her hand.

She took a quick glance at Remus for a green light and he nodded. Then she pointed the tip of her cherry wand at the object’s door, following up with a soft swing.

The doorknob twisted with a loud click and several students jumped at the noise. They were anxiously waiting on what will come out. A couple of gasps and squeals echoed through the classroom when black mist slowly floated out of the cabinet and materialized into a bony, clawed paw.

A tall, pale creature stumbled out of the closet and fell on its knees. Its ears were large and pointy, skin shrivelled and a sickly shade of white. The patches of fur that scarcely speckled it were thin, the only consistent amount of hairs was on the top of the beast's head.

It slowly rose on its huge sinewy legs and straightened its back, at least as much as the big skeletal hunch allowed it to. Its long snout twitched as it smelled its surroundings, the damp tip of it moved up and down when it locked its glowing yellow eyes with hers.

Loud thumps filled the air as it vigorously swung its stubby tail and repeatedly bumped into the open door behind it. The children backed away in panic, a few stumbling right into the wall. Harry soundlessly gasped when the creature stepped towards Hessie, its chest heaving in irregular wheezes.

She watched it with great caution, not taking a single step back when it threw its head back, took a deep breath and howled, its voice cracking. The creature's teeth were needle-sharp and crooked, dark blood was leaking from the corners of its lips.

Her eyebrow twitched when it set its eyes on her again. But it wasn't vicious. It wasn't a feral glare.

Its amber irises were glossed over by misery. Big salty tears were streaming down the beast's scarred cheeks. It looked at her with tremendous pain, pure, pristine agony.

A high-pitched cough hitched in her throat, but when Pansy Parkinson’s terrified squeak reached her ears, she forced out an exhale and swished her wand in a Z-pattern just as the beast raised its frail arm to swing at her.

"Riddikulus!"

A split second before the dirty claws were about to dig into her flesh, the figure warped into the same dark fog it originated from and then vaporized again - a fluffy grey puppy appeared in its place. She broke into a soft smile when the class started applauding with sighs of relief and cheers.

Even the most disinterested Slytherins were watching closely in awe. A lot of them actually whistled in admiration.

She crouched and scratched the dog behind the ear before pointing her finger at the cupboard. It barked and obeyed, stomping away with a chipper shimmy, its tail excitedly wiggling. It disappeared into the depths of the closet and she swung her wand again, closing the door with a loud bang. The object started rattling again.

Hessie stood up and looked at Remus. He was clapping, too, but he stared at the floor with a sad smile. She cleared her throat and turned around to face the class, theatrically bowing when the cheers got louder. She took another bite of her pastry and grinned. Remus walked up to her and chuckled.

"Wonderful, professor, thank you!" he beamed and stuck out his palm to shake her hand. She took it with a laugh and felt her features fill with familiar warmth when their fingers touched.

She hopped up on the windowsill that ran along the room and tucked her wand away, chomping down the last bite of her snack. She dusted off the crumbles from her fingers and watched as Remus called Neville to the front.

When he successfully polymorphed Snape's bat-like robes into his grandmother's clothes, the class erupted in laughter and she couldn't help but giggle as well. She couldn't deny the uncomfortable pit in her stomach, though.

The students formed a line and Remus rushed to the gramophone that was next to Hessie, carefully placing one of his well-used vinyl records on top. A cold shiver ran down her spine when her gaze fell on the slender fingers that took the needle and gracefully pressed it on the record.

A catchy swing melody filled the room and Remus grabbed an apple from a wicker basket prepared on a tea table next to him. He took a bite and excitedly wiggled his eyebrows at his friend, twirling around to face the crowd.

"Parvati!" Remus called the petite girl to the front and watched as Snape twisted into a gigant snake. She stumbled backwards with wide eyes. When she heard the encouraging roars of her friends, she waved her wand and another pop echoed around the room. It changed into an oversized jack-in-the-box.

Hessie scrunched her nose.

Not much better.

She seemed amused and satisfied, though, so Hessie gave a little clap and whistled while motioning Seamus to continue. One by one, the students took turns in front of the closet, successfully morphing the Boggart to their will. She shook off disgust when Ron came up and Dean’s incapacitated zombie hand warped into a full-grown Acromantula.

"Steady, Ron!" she cheered and took another pastry from the packet in her pockets.

"Wand at the ready, Ron!" Remus clapped and rolled up his sleeves, watching Ron's twisted expression. He let out a small squeak when the Acromantula clicked its mandibles. Then he finally moved his wand.

"Riddikulus!"

With a loud snap, all of the spider's legs disappeared. Its body rolled around the ground like a furry ball. Cheers and laughs mixed with the lively music. While Ron didn't look a hundred per cent convinced, he grinned and backed away, giving high-fives on his way to the back of the row.

The round torso rolled around the room and stopped at Harry's feet. He was up next.

All colour drained from Hessie's face when Remus looked at her with wide eyes, an identical memory flashing behind his eyes.

Pale, nearly transparent skin peeling off of a face that still carried some eerie resemblance to handsomeness. Glowing red eyes with serpent-like slits for pupils. A green light ricocheting off a disarming spell. Deafening ringing in their ears as they held each other's hand in a tight cramp, apparating away from the annihilated battlefield.

Remus jumped in front of Harry as nonchalantly as possible, right before the Boggart infiltrated the boy's mind.

"Here!" Remus exclaimed and raised his wand. The fuzzy globe bounced off of the floor like a volleyball and hung in the air for a few seconds before dissolving into a shiny orb surrounded by clouds. Hessie accidentally crushed the pumpkin pastry between her fingers, forcing down a dry swallow.

"Riddikulus!" he commanded, calm and collected. The orb burst open and a cockroach appeared instead, falling on the floor with a dull slap. Remus ignored Harry's confused shrug and searched for Neville in the crowd.

"He's weak, Neville! Finish him!" he waved his hand and Neville awkwardly jogged to the front and pointed his wand at the insect, more confidently this time. It changed back into Snape for a split second.

"Riddikulus!" the boy loudly yelped. Everyone caught a flash of his grandmother's red handbag. Then the Boggart turned into a small whirlpool of black smoke before imploding with an echoing boom, leaving behind a few crackling fire sparks.

The whole class erupted in loud cheers and feverish clapping along with both professors.

"Wonderful, everyone, truly professional work!" Remus stuck his wand into the wicker basket to applaud properly.

"I'm very proud of you all, what a joyful show!" Hessie agreed, giving everyone thumbs up.

"So, five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for each student that participated, ten points to The Lion for Neville, as he faced the Boggart twice. And five points for both Harry and Hermione."

"But I haven't done anything!" Harry questioned, his expression as puzzled as his voice. Remus smiled.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly! Everyone, this has been a wonderful lesson, thank you!"

"A small homework for the lot of you, read the chapter on Boggarts in your textbooks and write a short essay on methods of recognizing and eliminating them. The deadline is Monday, so you have plenty of time, no stress. Thank you, dear colleagues!"

Hessie clapped once again and hopped back up on the windowsill, watching the excited students say their goodbyes and flow out of the classroom until it was empty.

They were boasting to each other about how well they dealt with the dark creature. Remus let out a heavy sigh, clearly content. Hessie chuckled and tucked a loose hair behind her ear.

"Very enjoyable, sir," she mumbled, smirking when he proudly straightened his back. His fist involuntarily flexed at the way the title rolled off her lips. He cleared his throat.

"Not so bad yourself, madame. They seemed to understand quite well, don't you think? I feel like they all have a lot of potential." he closed the closet door with a swish of his wand and leaned against the wall next to her, taking a big bite of his apple. She nodded.

"I just hope…you know -"

"Yeah. I'm sure he will understand. Harry is a smart boy."

Strange silence filled the room. Hessie felt like she could hear Remus's thoughts sprinting through his brain. She took a shallow breath to say something but he was faster.

"I did not realize your Boggart was still…I mean, I didn't think that…"

He fell silent. Stumbling through his explanation wouldn't be coherent enough for her to understand. She started shaking her head furiously.

"No, no. No, Remus. Don't do this to me right now. You know damn well why it's -"

"I'm sorry, Mimi."

"Don't you dare even imply that I would -"

A maternal voice disturbed their hushed conversation. McGonagall's elegant figure entered the chamber, her hair tied in a tight bun. A stark contrast to the mess on Hessie’s head.

"Ah, here you are! Albus told me you have your first lesson today. Did everything live up to your expectations?” she asked, her kind smile as professional as ever.

The two of them exchanged a quick look before Remus cleared his throat, trying to swallow the apple pulp completely.

”Of course, prof- Minerva. They all did their part and eliminated the Boggart Albus was talking about. I feel like they’re all way smarter than we were at that age.” he chuckled and McGonagall pursed her lips.

”I highly doubt that.” she simply stated, her voice full of brutal honesty. Hessie painfully bit her lip to contain a wide smug grin that was cracking her professional smile. The older woman sighed.

“Glad to hear that, though. Anyway, I just came to invite you to our Quidditch practice. I am sure you will find that Potter is even more similar to his father than you think."

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons @moon-witchs-world

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders oc #the marauders #golden trio era #potterhead #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #golden trio #professor remus lupin #severus snape #harry potter #marauders

34 notes · View notes

tryskomys · 9 months

Text

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 2 - Episkey

Summary: Moony and Mittens officially join the Hogwarts faculty. After a string of both endearing and hostile reunions, the feast unexpectedly evokes a wave of dreadful memories.

previous chapter

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notes: here goes chapter two! hope you’ll enjoy it, it is preeeetty juicy for you angst lovers out there…

tw: a bit nasty - blood, vivid description of minor injuries, foul language, padfoot is a dickhead ™

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"Do you think I should change back?" Hesperia mumbled in a hushed voice as she and Remus crisscrossed between students through the narrow corridor. He was doing his best not to step on anyone's feet, which was quite a challenge as his pointy Oxford shoes neared twice the size of some of the children's. The brown leather material was flaky in some places, the heel worn out and uneven.

He answered with a shrug, now trying his best to maintain balance when the train suddenly moved, rattling through the tracks once again with a deafening screech of wheels.

"I don't think that will be necessary. They probably thought you were wandering somewhere around the train."

She sighed in relief and attempted to tuck a loose strand of hair back into the chignon.

"Splendid. I don't think that shaggy old floor mop would digest the chocolate very well. I don't plan on dying tonight, not until I've had at least two servings of butterbeer croquembouche."

A giggle rumbled through his chest as they reached their respective compartment. The children were still there, now a bit calmer as they discussed the preceding events. Remus gave a short nod in the direction of the now-empty package of chocolate.

Hesperia raised her eyebrows in contentment and then softly cleared her throat, a shy shiver running down her spine when the passengers looked at the two of them.

Their surprised faces scanned the new stranger, the boys were especially flustered when she gave them all a warm smile. Harry discreetly looked the woman up and down, stopping when she made eye contact with him.

Her eyes…that's impossible.

"Are you feeling better, Harry? We'll be arriving at Hogwarts in ten minutes." Remus gained back their attention when he spoke. They were already getting used to his calm, silent voice. He seemed to have an unusual sort of authority, one won over by pure kindness. But it was their first time hearing the woman speak.

"Professor Lupin kindly filled me in on the problems we've run into. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will investigate how those beasts got in here. Don't burden your minds with that, now. There's no safer place than Hogwarts, right?" she assured them. Her words carried through the air as if they were soft clouds, sweet to their ears like butterscotch.

Remus nodded and motioned towards the leather seats.

"May we join you?" he asked politely, his tired smile growing wider when the children nodded and muttered silent, assuring replies. Harry shuffled to the side so the professors could sit in the same place where Remus slept, oblivious to the cat's sudden disappearance until Ginny's shy voice peeped from the corner.

Hesperia got up in the meantime and reached for the copy of Daily Prophet that was tucked under her ragged suitcase, stubbornly staring into it when she sat down and heard Ginny's tremoring question.

"Professor, I- I'm sorry, but where is your Mittens?" she stuttered and her face was almost as red as her hair now. His eye twitched for the slightest second before he shifted in his seat, sticking his hands into the pockets of his robe.

"Oh, Mittens is not mine, she's just a stray. I used to meet her a lot around the grounds when I went to school, which was…let's say some years ago. More than I'd like to admit." he grinned and casually rested his head on the window.

"I was quite surprised to see her after all that time. She was looking rather ragged, though. I guess age is catching up to her." he shrugged as Ginny giggled. His ears caught the subtle rustle of paper when Hesperia gripped the Prophet tighter.

Oh, you're surely getting the claws when we get there, prick.

She was torn out of the long silence that followed when the train stopped with a shrill sound of metal grinding against metal.

"Looks like we're here! Ah, I hope there will be broiled potatoes." Remus stretched and gave everyone present a wide smile before getting up, probably too fast for his exhaustion, because his vision went fuzzy for a moment and he stumbled backwards. Neville caught him, his big ears as red as his favourite cherry liquorice sticks from the snack trolley.

The professor patted his slouched shoulder and thanked him. He just nodded and nearly ran out of the cabin, stumbling over Hesperia's small suitcase in the process.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet all of you! See you around." she nodded and handed Remus his cane before disappearing from their sight with a small wave.

When she walked outside, ropes of frigid rain were falling from the sky with loud splashes and clouds occasionally cracked with bright lightning. She softly swore under her breath, cringing as wet drops ran under the collar of her robe. Remus carefully limped down the stairs of the train and when he hit the ground with a heavy huff, she snorted.

"Who did you say was getting old?" she hissed at him but couldn't hide the grin playing at her lips when he looked at her, his green eyes wide. He smacked his lips in annoyance and softly punched her arm. He took out his wand, pointed it at the sky and a transparent umbrella sprung out of its tip, successfully shielding both of them from the pouring rain.

She lifted his small luggage from the ground and held it along with her own so he could use his cane as well as his wand. Ignoring his protests, she scooted over closer to him and hooked her arm into his when he offered it with a sigh.

"Mimi, you don't have to -"

"Shush, pay attention to your steps, now. You can be a gentleman tomorrow." she cut him off and tugged on his arm to make him move.

She heard Hagrid's booming voice calling the first-years to join him and she melted, the nostalgia finally catching up to her.

They made their way over to the carriages, gravel crunching under their shoes as they walked on the road surrounded by various blooming bushes and small flame spheres that hovered above the ground. The carriages they seemed to be dragged by strange, naked creatures now. They resembled horses and birds alike, their wings scaly and skeletal. Thestrals.

"Makes sense that we would see them, now...after everything," Remus mumbled in her ear, his warm breath making her freezing cheek pleasantly flush. She just soundlessly nodded and let go of him, climbing into one of the vehicles with a soft huff.

Three fairly grown-up girls, presumably seventh-years, hesitantly joined them. Their hair was soaked and their teeth rattled in the cold autumn breeze that fluttered around them as the Thestrals moved. Their faces turned pink when they noticed the unusually young and unusually handsome professor and his gentle smile.

"Engorgio!" he commanded and the transparent umbrella expanded with a high-pitched squeal until it hovered over the whole carriage. The group's cheeks flamed even brighter now, stifling giggles when he spoke.

"Better?" his sweet voice carried through the air and the girls nodded, gingerly thanking before murmuring something among each other. She cursed her pitch-perfect hearing.

Why couldn't I have transformed into a mole rat instead?

"Show-off," she muttered under her breath and he shrugged, a smug grin reaching all the way up to his twinkling eyes.

When they arrived in front of the castle and hopped out of the vehicle, she spotted Harry and the others from the train in the distance. They seemed to be in some sort of conflict with a trio of boys she didn't see before when they passed the compartments on the way here. Remus raised an eyebrow as they neared the group.

"I wonder whose son that is," he mumbled with a sarcastic smirk when they were close enough to notice that the loudest student had shiny, platinum blonde hair. She scoffed and did her best to put on a professional façade.

"Is there a problem?" Remus questioned in a firm but friendly tone and they stopped by the band of teens. He was remarkably better at keeping his temper than her, which was quite ironic considering his condition. Her disdain was hidden behind an unconvincing smile.

Draco Malfoy and his two companions turned around and looked the professors up and down, silver and green ties nonchalantly thrown around their necks. Now that they were illuminated by the golden lights of the castle and standing right in front of them, Harry noticed just how much shabbier they looked in comparison to the river of people flowing into the castle.

Remus Lupin was a tall, tall man. And yet, his ill-fitting robes still seemed to loosely flutter around his fairly broad stature. The tweed suit he had under his long grey robe was pilling around the buttons and loose threads were sticking out of his mousy brown tie. The rough woollen coat that hung down from his shoulders had clumps all over and it looked frankly uncomfortable to wear. His dark brown Oxfords were worn-out and creased all over.

His female companion didn't look much fancier. Her fawny suit was from a lighter type of wool than his, but it was no less crumpled. Her trousers ended above her ankles, it was hard to decide if they were supposed to be that way or if she had them for years and simply grew out of them. The high leather boots on her feet were slightly pointy and had a small and stocky hourglass-shaped heel. The shoelaces were tightly knotted, looking like they might fall apart at any moment.

Her moss-green robe had a few patches from a different fabric and her mustard-yellow parka was the only piece of clothing on both of them that looked semi-new.

Malfoy must've went through the same thought process, because his already judgemental smirk grew even wider when he saw Remus's scarred face, pale and exhausted. The grey strands in his hair glinted under the soft lights that escaped through the windows.

"No problem at all…professor." Draco sneered and gave Harry, Ron and Hermione one last scoff before waving off his two beefy friends and joining the mountain of heads moving up the stairs. Ron gave them an apologizing smile and Hesperia patted his shoulder.

"Enjoy the feast." she winked and turned around when she heard Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice from around the corner. Ron caught the slightest hint of her perfume when she whipped her head around and his red ears nearly started glowing in the dark rainy night.

"Hessie! Remus! I've been looking for you all over, where were you hiding?" Flitwick mused, waving at them to join him. They exchanged a big grin and waved Harry and his friends goodbye, rushing to the small man's side. They affectionately shook his hand and he led them to the back entrance reserved for teachers.

They entered a small lobby that continued to The Great Hall, where most teachers already sat at their places, waiting for everyone to arrive. Remus waved his wand to make the umbrella disappear with a puff of raindrops and hung his cane on one of the armchairs. Hessie put the two suitcases on the floor, taking off her parka.

Professor Sprout just walked in with a deep frown on her face.

"Filius, how in Helga's name am I supposed to -"

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the new faces and her annoyed expression immediately changed to a delighted smile.

"Remus! And Hessie, too! Merlin's beard, come here, my lion cubs." she exclaimed and stomped through the lobby with a boisterous giggle. She gave them both a big bone-crushing hug before standing on her tiptoes to pinch Remus's cheek. He blushed at the sudden attention.

"My dear boy, look at you! You've grown so much!" she sniffled and turned to Hessie, took her hands and spun her around.

"Let me have a proper look at you, rosebud. My dear Hessie, as sweet as ever!"

Professor Sprout took out a lacy handkerchief and patted her eyes dry. Hessie bit her lip to contain the embarrassed smile that curled on her lips. The stocky witch sighed and put her handkerchief back inside her robes, softly clapping her hands.

"We're so honoured to be back, Professor." Remus awkwardly stuck his hands into his pockets and Professor Sprout tutted.

"Oh, stop it, sweetheart. Call me Pomona. We're so delighted to have you here with us. Truly, right before you arrived, Filius was just talking about - Filius?"

Her eyes widened when she realized she came in to complain to Professor Flitwick and franatically looked around the room. He elegantly snuck out of the room when she was busy blowing her nose.

"Filius!" she lamented and ran out of the door without a word, muttering something under her breath before calling out for him again.

They broke into giggles as soon as she disappeared behind the corner. She walked up closer to him and smoothed his robes, spotting cat hair on his chest. They fell silent and he looked down at her lovingly, allowing himself to study her face now that she was busy taking out her wand.

Her eyebrows were knitted in concentration as she muttered a string of incantations, first removing the clumps on his suit with a simple wave, then swishing it to make the loose threads vanish and finally move onto the tear near the bottom of his robe, intricately twirling the tip as the fabric seemed to attach itself together.

She didn't seem to age a day since they last walked through this castle. Even back then she had a few silver threads in her hair.

His eyes fell on the long scar that graced her skin. A wave of sickness jolted through his body and he bit down on his bottom lip so roughly a drop of blood appeared on it. She seemed to have a potent radar for Remus's self-loathing thoughts, so she looked at him, put her wand away and reached up, wiping the red stain with the pad of her thumb. His eyelids involuntarily fluttered closed as his fists clenched in his pockets.

"How many times did I tell you not to chew your lips?" she whispered when he opened his eyes. They were exhausted and bordered with dark circles. And despite all the pain they carried, they were so warm, so caring it made her heartbeat stutter. He softly shook his head.

"I cannot count that high, Mittens," he said and breathed out a shivering sigh.

Both of them jumped when Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, watching them with arms akimbo as his grey robe fluttered in the cold breeze that flowed in through the main door. The expression on his face seemed deliberately bored as if he was standing there for hours.

"I see you've already settled here comfortably. Splendid!" his voice echoed through the stone walls and he giggled when he saw their terrified expressions, walking up to them with open arms.

Hessie let out a silent chuckle and straightened her robes. Remus sheepishly took the hands out of his pockets, clasping them behind his back.

"Sweet Hessie." he kissed the back of her hand before softly caressing her cheek.

"And Remus, my dear friend. What a joy to see the two in these halls again. I'll forever be in your debt for this." he shook Remus's hand and patted his back, taking both of them around the shoulders.

"You have missed the usual professors' meeting, but pay no mind to that. I will fill you in on everything. Now, tell me - ah, Severus! Right on time as always."

They both set their eyes on the towering figure in the doorframe. His posture was unbelievably straight, not in the slightest similar to the hunch he was stuck in when they last saw each other.

Severus Snape was piercing them with narrowed eyes, thy were so astonishingly dark they didn't seem to reflect any light. He was completely wrapped in layers of long black robes, only his pale sinewy hands peeked out of his sleeves while he folded his arms.

'What's up, Snivellus? Stumbled upon some shampoo lately? 'Cause it doesn't seem like it. Levicorpus!'

James Potter's phantom voice echoed through her ears as she studied his greasy raven hair, her eyes rapidly blinking off the embarrassment. She hated that nickname almost as much as she hated Snape himself, along with his supremacist friend group.

She wondered if he ever knew that. If he remembered that she and Remus loathed their friends’ treatment of him. Considering his hostile scowl, though, it seemed like enabling was just as heinous as bullying in his eyes. She couldn't fault him for that, so she averted his stare by peeking inside the noisy Great Hall.

"Severus, you've met Remus and Hessie before." Dumbledore walked up to him and motioned him inside the lobby. Remus was as uncomfortable as her when he stuck out his palm to shake Snape's veiny hand.

"I've had the pleasure." he simply stated, his voice impossibly deep and cold as ice. Remus gave him a small, genuine smile, but Snape just turned to Hessie, shaking her hand with a similarly steely grip.

"Severus will supply you with the Wolfsbane potion as often as you'll need. The ingredients in his pantry are of utmost quality, as are his skills, of course. I'm fully convinced that we'll be able to ease your suffering, Remus. I promise." Dumbledore assured him, sensing the tension in the room.

Remus nodded.

"Oh, I have no doubts about our Potions Master's skills. Severus, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am in your debt." he gave him a polite nod, nervously picking on the skin around his nails.

Snape stood motionless, like a Muggle portrait before giving Remus a lopsided, dishonest smile and with a dramatic swish of his black robe, he turned around and headed towards his seat behind the teachers' table. Dumbledore shrugged and gave them a reassuring smile, waving towards the door as he led the way to The Great Hall. They exchanged a nervous sigh and followed him.

● ● ● ● ● ●

"With great honour, I'd like to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin and Professor H. Lynx, who were generous enough to accept my offer and share the open position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers."

Dumbledore introduced the young duo and they both got up, giving the packed dining hall a court, shy bow. They grinned at each other and sat down, looking around the room as the lukewarm cheers died down.

"For those who seemed to be puzzled by this unusual precaution, the Hogwarts faculty has discussed the…inconsistencies in the previous years and deduced that it would be wise to employ two teachers at once. In case one of them got possessed by anything, be it villainy or incompetence," he added with a knowing smirk and cheerful laughter carried through the packed room.

Harry caught Hessie's eyes and she gave him a disarming wink, making his cheeks flood with a patchy blush.

She seemed so familiar.

The excitement after Dumbledore’s announcement of the new Care of Magical Creatures professor got a considerably louder applause as Hagrid sheepishly stood up and hit the long table with his large belly, making Remus's goblet of wine fall on the floor with a twinkling rattle. He just laughed it off and continued clapping as a new goblet appeared in front of him out of thin air.

The joyous atmosphere seemed to quickly vaporize when the headmaster’s speech turned to the topic of Dementors and their reason to lurk around the castle.

When his name boomed through the stone walls, Hessie felt as if someone dropped a bucket of freezing water down her robe, frigid dread running down her spine.

Twelve years and it still didn't hurt any less than when she got the owl on the fateful Hallowe'en night. She heard Remus's deep sigh beside her as he stared at the table. Her peripheral vision caught Snape's dark eyes boring into her skull, mouth twisted in a mocking grin.

A memory consumed her whole consciousness.

She was stomping through the tall grass with deafening ringing in her ears, her nostrils shivered as she huffed out heavy breaths. The Whomping Willow, covered in snow, was getting smaller and smaller as she walked away, looking almost indistinguishable from a harmless tree when she finally reached the castle's back door.

She never ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower as quickly as that evening. The Fat Lady was just falling asleep when she walked up to the portrait, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her shaky voice.

"'Shrivelfig juice.'" she said firmly, trying to mask the anger spewing out of her brain. The Lady peevishly grunted and opened her eyes.

"Merlin's beard, what are you doing up at this hour? I was just about to indulge in my beauty sleep - "

"I SAID 'SHRIVELFIG JUICE‘!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows knotted in a deep frown. The Fat Lady gasped and reluctantly opened the entrance, muttering complaints under her breath.

"The audacity! I thought you had manners, young lady!" she called after her, but Hessie couldn't hear any of it. The ringing in her ears got too loud when she entered the common room and slammed the door behind her.

A handsome young man was sitting by the fireplace in one of the velvet armchairs, the flames illuminated his chiselled features. His grey eyes were scanning a Muggle motorcycle magazine but he immediately hopped up when he noticed her, greeting her with a signature wide grin as his dark locks nonchalantly cascaded around his face.

His joyful expression quickly fell when she charged at him and decked him in the face so hard he stumbled back down on his seat.

Her fist slowly filled up with white-hot pain when she heard a soft crack upon the impact. Her index finger was now bent at an unnatural angle.

"What the -"

"You self-centred prick! What exactly did you think you were doing?!" she shrieked as she held her bleeding knuckles, the pain was like gasoline to her fury. He looked up at her, mouth full of blood. His nose was letting out a small drop as well, tickling the bow of his lips. He immediately knew what she was talking about.

"What's gotten into you? It was a joke, Mimi -"

"Don't Mimi me, you fucking idiot! He could have died!"

"Serves him right, didn't he call you a scar-faced cunt yesterday?"

"Serves him right?!" she screeched again, pacing in front of him like a hungry lioness in her cage. Her chest rapidly heaved. They were lucky the whole tower was gone for an overnight field trip to Hogsmeade.

"He's a sinister, greasy little cockroach. He had it coming. Someone ought to give him a little scare." he hissed and wiped the bloody nose with the sleeve of his yellow-red sweater.

She scoffed.

"So you took it upon yourself, a hero of the people!"

He took a breath to say something but she harshly cut him off.

"You don't value human life? Fine. Suit yourself. But did your omnipotent brain even consider what would've happened to Moony if he had ripped that fuckface to shreds? How he would feel if he woke up in the hospital wing tomorrow and found out he'd torn someone's beating heart out? Did you worry about the consequences for your best fucking friend?!" she screamed in his face and he fell silent, putting together that this was the true core of her wrath.

And he truly didn't realize any of it. She was right and he was arrogant and careless. He felt humiliated. She could see right through him at that moment, so she gave him a joyless grin.

"Didn't think so. Let me enlighten you, then!"

He immediately backed away when she walked towards him again, but this time she just braced herself against the armrests of his chair, ignoring the bloody marks she'd left behind. She bent down on his level and got as close as she could without their noses touching.

He could inhale the scent of her Moondew shampoo from this distance, but it felt dangerous, not familiar. Her furious stare made him feel like he was burning on a stake, so he decided to move his gaze to the carmine red carpet under his feet instead.

Her silent voice was even more menacing than her enraged shrieks.

"He would've been expelled and sent to rot in Azkaban for manslaughter. All because pretty boy wanted to boost his fragile ego by navigating a clueless person to a tunnel that leads straight into a werewolf's den."

The boy's grunt echoed through the common room walls when he jumped up from his armchair, took her by the collar of her fuzzy green sweater and backed her into a wall, deaf to the gasp she made when her shoulders hit the uneven stone.

"You know what?! If you care so much about your precious Snape's well-being, why don't you go join him and his Death Eater friends at the dining table for breakfast? You can talk about your mother's bakery over a cuppa and they'll welcome you with open arms!" he barked out, spitting blood and saliva all around him.

She didn't have time to process his statement, because as soon as the words left his mouth, her injured hand instinctively sprung up and firmly slapped his cheek, leaving a mark of bloody fingers behind. His face whipped to the side and he took a moment to breathe out before meeting her devastated face, realizing the weight of his insult.

Strident pain pulsed through her broken finger, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that was eating through her heart when his venomous words sank in. He stared at her with wide eyes, knowing that there was nothing he could do to take back the taunt he just stabbed her with.

She scoffed, a sarcastic smirk curling up the corners of her quivering lips.

"You make me sick, Black," she whispered and wrenched out of his now-limp grip. She forcefully pushed him aside with her shoulder, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. As she stomped off, he heard a strained mumble.

"Episkey."

He cringed at the poorly contained squeal she let out when her busted finger straightened itself back to its usual position with a nauseating crack.

”Mittens, I -“

He could do nothing but watch her body warp into a familiar ball of matted fur and disappear behind the bookshelf that hid one of the ways out of the castle.

She jerked at the loud swish that accompanied the sudden appearance of mountains of food.

Sweet and savoury, sour or bland, it was all there.

She fixed her dissociated stare at the broiled chicken drumsticks that were neatly arranged in a bowl of creamy corn and broccoli, dull pain pulsing in her stomach.

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons

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