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berrynarrybanana · 4 years ago

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Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

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“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

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“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.”

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

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Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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ginasrickyfav · 3 years ago

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THINK PIECE: RINA LOVE STORY OF HSMTMTS 🥰

Let’s start from the beginning, Rina has always been set up... it’s always been there in the script, the show, etc. Tim might have not thought it would be big but he definitely planned it. Gina being intrigued by Ricky, Ricky not being scared of Gina. They naturally get each other. Their connection is deep and organic doesn’t feel forced unlike some of the other pairings.

Now onto the beauty and the beast theory... I believe the story of Belle and the Beast are being played by Gina and Ricky.

It’s quite obvious why Ricky got the Beast, bc tbh his audition was rocky— he had to get the beast because theorically he is the Beast. He doesn’t like change and has attachment/abondment issue but we will get into that later.

Now Belle is Gina even though she doesn’t play Belle in the play she is still the Belle- the girl everyone wants to be, be with, the one who has one of the biggest storyline this season except for Nini/Nina. Gina is very important this season, she wants to leave Salt Lake City because she feels there is nothing there for her... she misses her mom, she doesn’t have Ricky in her corner, none of her friends are seeing that she is sad— no one is asking her how she feels and is doing. Belle misses her dad and wants to leave the castle. It hurts Gina to see Ricky and Nini happy together because she could have had that if she knew she wasn’t leaving. That’s the main reason she wants to leave. Gina’s input on a lot of things matters... mostly to Ricky that’s why he went to her multiple times this season about Nini. Belle is the one who helps the Beast through change, which Ricky needs to do. Gina does help him through that as we seen in Season 1.

Now Ej is playing Gaston, I personally don’t know much about Gaston except he is in love with Belle and wants her to love him back. The thing is Ej and Gina are getting closer in 2B... In multiple scenes it is shown that Ej is showing feelings for Gina (weird but anyways). It’s becoming very one-sided as of right now, we haven’t seen future episodes so I can’t really speak on Gina’s feelings because we haven’t seen her side. She only has stated they were friends and co-anchors which is normal- she wanted to get back to normal after the fake dating act... she wants the best for him, she wants someone to talk to and not feel lonely. Same as Ej, they are both lonely and seek the attention and “friendship” they both want. I feel like portwell is a stepping stone for Rina, they will realize they aren’t it for each other they don’t “get each other” the way Ricky and Gina do. Plus Ej is confusing this friendship for feelings because they are getting closer but he doesn’t realize that he needs to focus on himself and preparing for college instead of looking for a girlfriend in the last 2 months of high school. Like what does he even want to do? Does he want to go to college? He didn’t get into Duke but what does he now want? he said his life had been planned out for him— now it went left so now he should be figuring out what to do now.

As of now we have just seen Gina tell Ashlyn about her telling Ricky “I wouldn’t quit on us if I wasn’t leaving” and how they never talked about it since then. Which makes everything make sense (kinda) Gina ignoring Ricky, Ricky being like why isn’t she speaking to me, the awkwardness, the romantic subtext, the freaking flashback- which was filmed in 2019??! and was kept a secret helloooo?!! She asked Ricky to find someone else to confide in about Nini, now they are speaking. But the thing is they have to speak, especially about “opening night”. If they don’t that will be left unresolved and that whole thing is from 1B and 2A combined.

Now Nini/Nina who is now free from a relationship and has rebranded herself as Nina. She is thee Rose, the Rose that has been confined in a glass- the Beast’s Rose. Who literally plays the Beast’s Rose in the play. Nini’s whole arc is about finding herself outside of boys— finding who she is as a person without being defined by someone else. This has been happening since season 1 but her character along with Ricky had regressed backwards when they got back together at the end of season 1. She was done with boys then see Ricky move on with Gina and now she wants him back. But now she is realizing she won’t be confined to the Beast’s POV (Ricky’s POV).

The symbolism is crazy on this show I swear. The dog tag and guitar pick also show symbolism of the Rose being confined in glass. The dog tag coming off two seconds into the breakup is showing how Ricky is realizing he has to let her go and start accepting his change and his relationships changing. Nina still has hers on maybe because she has fully grasped that they are over and that she had to let go— even if she has already mentally did it. She emotionally hasn’t. Her head mind she wants to be her own person but she still loves Ricky deeply. Yes, she is doing great and moving on to bigger and better things... but we have to see her physically take off the guitar pick like we seen from Ricky.

Also the lighting this season has been very dark, compared to last season. The theme is darkness because the Beast was keeping himself in his castle in darkness— Ricky nothing wanting anything to change. The Rose still being confined. Gaston still wanting Belle. Belle being sad and wanting to go back to her dad. As soon as the character arcs start developing more - Ricky accepting change and his parents divorce (every relationship isn’t meant to last forever), Nina accepting that she can break out of her shell and do something that truly makes her happy (her songwriting and music), Ej accepting that his love(feelings) for Belle(Gina) are taken for kindness same with Gina most likely and that he will be fine without a girlfriend and should focus on the future that he has and that he should do something for him and not his dad (maybe NYU or community college), Gina accepting and understanding that she wants to stay at East High and that she has friends that truly care about her and want her there, and speaks her truth with Ricky (they finally have that conversation about opening night). The lightning will lightning back up around episode 11 or 12 when most of these story arc wrap up.

The main storyline is Rina when that second chance happens and they have the big conversation about opening night and last semester, the story will lighten back up, Ricky is now accepting change and Gina is now accepting that she is wanted and that staying will be the best choice because this will be a stable “home” for her. - how ashlyn sung home to gina hehe.

#Gina #hsmtmts #gina x ricky #ricky x gina #ricky hsmtmts #rini #portwell

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what-big-teeth · 4 years ago

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Moving In

And done! The winner of the 500 raffle, @a-third-attempt, requested a story featuring a clumsy male arachnid with a gender neutral reader. As I’m mainly familiar with driders, I decided to create a tarantula drider for this story. I hope you all enjoy! Gender Neutral Reader (POV) x Male Monster You tread the beaten path before you with steady steps, letting it lead you deeper into the forest. Your legs are grateful for the chance to stretch and the low-impact of the flat ground beneath your feet. The scent of faint petrichor and deep earthiness fills your nose with a long inhale. It’s calming, overall, more so thanks to the cool spring air. And best of all, your planned venture is taking you to one of your favorite places. The Selenite Hollows showcase an amazing array of different gypsum crystals. You learned from your many visits that they can be bent into different shapes with one’s bare hands. This method is how you received the white, corded pendant hanging against your chest. All thanks to your boyfriend, Tarren.

You couldn’t have predicted his creative side when you two first met him four months ago while hiking. That presumption was thanks to how he accidentally tripped over his eight legs while coming closer to introduce himself. But you found his clumsiness charming along with the fuzzy, tarantula legs he supports himself on. The fact that Tarren’s white hair contrasts beautifully with his gray upper body and pitch black bottom also helped immensely. You’ve spent numerous weekends visiting Tarren at his abode. And you’ve treasured the time you two spend together, exploring uninhabited parts of the Hollows and greeting his nonhuman neighbors. It’s a shame you won’t be able to visit the caves again.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip at the fact. Thanks to the growing instability working its way around the Hollows, it’s been deemed unlivable by the City. And as such, its residents have been given ample time to collect their belongings and move. Tarren included. You blurted a solution once he shared the news: moving in with you. Unsurprisingly, he sputtered at your suggestion, his eight black eyes widening then flitting to the ground. While you both have visited each other countless times, you’ve never stayed overnight. But after weighing the positives against the drawbacks together, he agreed to a temporary stay. Which left you both happy and apprehensive. You had prior significant others before him, but you’ve never felt as at home with them like Tarren. A small yet growing part of you worries about him seeing your habits. You consider yourself pretty normal. Sure, there may be a few odd food combinations you love that others have turned their noses up at. And your exes have complained about your snoring and starfishing habits. But you both care deeply for each other and such small things would never change that. Right? As you approach the Hollows’ entrance, your stomach begins to make itself known. A frisson of fear churns inside you, unwilling to be ignored. You’re forced to pause to steel yourself by taking a deep breath. Think of Tarren; what you’re going through is meager compared to his sudden displacement. There’s no use in adding more stress to an already taxing situation. So you plaster a smile onto your lips and cross the threshold. “Incoming!” You swiftly step to the side, avoiding the resident chiropteran children who almost barrel into you. The older two of the group dart past you with a brief “sorry!” after a quick use of chirps and clicks. The youngest trails behind them, flapping their large bat wings in order to gain ground. But the two dive down a pathway out of reach, leaving the little one to squeak in frustration. You huff out a laugh and call out to them, reminding them to be careful. You wouldn’t be surprised if they managed to finagle their way out of helping their parents pack. You walk past the home of the young naga couple who are tending to their son, offering a kind hello, one they return with smiles. Their neighbors, a multi-generational family of mothpeople, chitter happily when glimpsing you. The matriarch offers you some homemade, sweet nectar cookies, for you and Tarren when you both have a moment. You pause to thank her for her kindness before promising to return. You continue onward, greeting the other dwellers until you reach the final “house”. Inside, Tarren carefully gathers some of his belongings and tucks them into an antique trunk you gifted him on his birthday. When not afflicted with his endearing clumsiness, he moves with a slow sleekness that hints to his true strength and dexterity. You can’t help but admire the sight and lean against his home’s entrance to admire him. He begins turning towards his books, but his dark eyes notice your movements and flit towards you. “Hey there, handsome,” you say with a grin. Tarren beams, revealing the ends of his prominent black fangs. His hands skim one of the book’s spine as he hurries toward you. He leans down to embrace you, and you revel in the way his claws graze against your nape. “Lovebug! I’m glad you’re here.” His hold tightens to a comfortable snugness, one interspersed with trembling. “So very glad.” You thread a hand through his thin, short locks and nuzzle against his cool cheek. From what Tarren told you about his childhood, he’d been something of a loner. And not by his own choice. Concerning his particular species, once self-sufficient, they were expected to leave the nest to fend for themselves. So the fact that he found a welcoming community to live in was a godsend. Having to lose that sense of belonging and familiarity in one fell swoop... Hopefully, with a bit of luck, he’ll come to see your cabin as a new home. Tarren presses his lips against your temple, his palps caressing your skin. You tilt your head back and gently kiss him, long and slow. Being careful of his fangs, he deepens the gesture, coaxing a sigh from your lips. Needing air, you pull away and hear him whine in reply. “There’ll be more where that came from when we get home,” you say around a chuckle. His smile falters, but he quickly turns away towards his bookshelf. As if to keep you from seeing. “Of course,” he says. “I just have a few other things to pack.” Ignoring the growing uncertainty in your chest, you force a smile. “How can I help?” With Tarren’s instruction, you’re both able to finish loading his belongings into his trunk in a timely manner. This gives you both time to say your goodbyes to his neighbors. After providing your contact information and collecting your promised sweet nectar cookies, the families promise to reach out to you both once settled. The hike back towards the outskirts of town is quiet, interspersed with soft chewing. The cookies are delicious as always, but their sweetness does nothing for the awkwardness between you two. Tarren is more focused on keeping his trunk balanced on top of his abdomen and taking in the passing sights of the forest. “Everything okay?” you gently hedge. Tarren startles somewhat, but his attention turns to you. He smiles, but it’s lacking in sincerity. “I’ll be alright. It’ll just...take some time, is all.” You hum, unsure of what else to say. So you stay silent, turning phrases and topics in your head to pass the time. And hopefully to make Tarren feel more at ease. You both come to the crest of a hill with a large tree at the top, the last landmark before glimpsing your cabin. The outside is rustic, as many are and neatly surrounded by growing foliage. That took some time to do as did tidying up the inside as you took into account Tarren’s larger size and gait. But the completed preparations don’t deter the nerves quivering in your stomach. Still, you do your best to present your home with a flourish of your hand. “And we’re here!” Tarren takes in the two-story structure with a soft smile. “It’s very charming,” he says. “Just like you.” A sudden heat fills your cheeks as you wet your dried lips. If he’s able to flirt, then maybe he’s starting to feel a little bit better. You vow then and there to do all you can to alleviate his discomfort and make him feel at home. “Right back at you, handsome. Come on, I’ll show you where you can put your trunk.” You both descend the hillside. Tarren slips a little on the way down, but recovers with your help. Due to the size of the cabin’s entrance, he switches to carrying his trunk and squeezes through the door. In anticipation of his arrival, you’ve shifted the layout of the living room’s recliners and table, ensuring a clear path for him. You hadn’t touched the kitchen as of yet, wanting to hear his opinion. “You mentioned having an attic, right?” That question throws off your train of thought. “Oh, um, yes. It’s somewhat dusty since I haven’t had time to clean it yet…” “That’s fine,” he says. “Do you mind if I stay there?” Your eyes widen. You’re tempted to object since the attic is no place for anyone to sleep. But Tarren simply caresses your cheek and gives you a soft smile. It’s what he’s always done to reassure you. “I’ll be fine. I can even tidy it up for you. It’ll give me something to do after unpacking.” You shake your head, trying to speak. But Tarren doesn’t give you the chance. “I’ll come down later once I’m finished. Get some rest, alright?” He turns away, slowly carrying his trunk up the stairs. The doubts that began rooting themselves in your minds plunge deeper. You can only watch as he walks out of sight, listening as the attic’s hatch opens and closes. Part of you wants to follow after him and reach out. But the delicacy of the whole situation weighs heavily on you. Even as your stomach churns at the decision, you turn towards the kitchen to make lunch. Turning on the slow cooker and pouring in last night’s venison stew doesn’t require much effort. But it does give you more time with your thoughts, which slowly but surely, are veering towards the negative. A high-pitched beep from the pot’s timer refocuses your attention. “Is that lunch?” You jolt, nearly dropping the used ladle into the sink. Tarren shrinks away, looking at you with guilt-filled eyes. “S-sorry. I’m still unpacking, so I was hoping to take it upstairs.” You don’t want to exacerbate his remorse, so you quickly agree and provide him a spoon and a paper towel. He softly thanks you and retreats back upstairs, the sight leaving you unsettled. Little did you know this would be the norm for the next few days. You’d wish Tarren a good morning and a good night from the second floor when the time came. Then, you’d go about your daily tasks, including working from home on your laptop. The only time you’d see Tarren was when hunger or the need to bathe forced him from the attic. He’d always take his meal upstairs and go further up the pathway towards a nearby river to wash himself. Even then, sometimes you’d never catch him when he returned from outside. It’s no surprise that sleep became elusive during this time. You lie in bed on your back after a bout of tossing and turning. But it wasn’t due to any myriad of invasive sounds. No, it’s the discomfiting silence from the attic. The not-knowing; the growing distance between you and Tarren. Restlessness pulls at your limbs and you give into it, climbing to your feet. Your dry mouth could use some water anyway. You quietly take the stairs, being cautious of the areas prone to squeaking. It made witnessing the sight before the kitchen sink that much easier. Tarren sits facing the basin, his legs bent and his lower half flush against the wooden floor. The moonlight from outside reveals his claws carefully tugging at pieces of his loose exoskeleton. He hisses, his fangs becoming prominent as he lifts away the rigid covering. You only notice the lack of distance between you two once your hand touches his shoulder. Tarren startles, his wide eyes flitting up to you. They widen more as your vision blurs and waters. “Lovebug?” You slowly kneel by his side, taking in his presence but resisting the urge to embrace him. “You’re hurt,” you croak out. “No, no, dearest. I’m not hurt. Just uncomfortable. I’m....well…” He turns away from you to stare down at the leg he was tending to. “I-It’s time for my molting. It isn’t the most pleasant thing to see and I didn’t want to worry you…” You silently repeat the last few words of his explanation and suddenly, things click into place. Why he kept to himself mostly and didn’t appear before you except to tend to his most basic needs. Frustration and guilt grip at your chest but you realize you’re partially at fault for simply not talking. As Tarren keeps explaining himself, fear lacing into his expression, you wrap your arms around him and lean into his chest. He stutters out your name, tensing, but you hold tight and refuse to stay silent. “I didn’t want to force you to do anything because I thought it’d make you uncomfortable. But part of me also didn’t want you to see my bad habits, either. To regret...wanting to date me.” Tarren relaxes in your arms, releasing a long breath. His arms wind around you, drawing you closer. “I guess we both wanted to show each other our best sides,” he murmured. “But we ended up hurting each other, instead.” You sniff, feeling a few errant tears roll down your cheek. You look up at Tarren and he wipes at the growing wetness with the pad of his clawed thumb. “We did,” you say, “but we can fix that. Starting now and from now on, if you’ll let me.” A long pause. As his claws skim against the nape of your neck, making you shudder, Tarren nods. It takes three hours for you both to finish coaxing along the molting process. Once done, you both pack the old exoskeleton away in a large trash bag. Immediately after, you notice Tarren’s movements becoming sluggish with him barely able to keep his eyes open. Cupping his cheek, you murmur that you’ll be right back before bounding up the stairs and into the attic. True to his word, Tarren had cleaned up, leaving no traces of dust behind. You’ll have to thank him once he’s fully recovered. But for now, it’s important to tend to him. You grab the extra blankets and pillows kept in storage and toss them through the hatch before climbing down. With some maneuvering, you’re able to carry the pile down to the living room and set up a makeshift bed. It takes patience and shared leverage, but you both make it towards the bed and snuggle into the soft, plush pile. Tarren gathers the majority of the pillows to support his upper half while his lower rests flush against the ground. “Comfy?” you ask. “Yes, very.” His half lidded eyes take you in while his hand finds yours to intertwine your fingers with his. “I’m sorry for not explaining myself these past few days. I just...wanted you to still look at me like you are now.” “I am, too. Just know that I love you, Tarren and I want this to last. As long as you feel the same way.” “Oh Lovebug, how could I not?” The sleepy way his mouth slots against yours and his palps caress your skin tell you more than words could ever say. But the way he breathes “I love you, too” against your lips isn’t unwelcome. As sleep slowly claims you, you inch closer to your boyfriend as he nuzzles your hair. Tomorrow will bring a new day, the first of many that you know you will use to strengthen your relationship. Together.

#drider boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster/human #exophilia #terato #gender neutral reader #GN!reader

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dumblydork · 4 years ago

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Finally here with something which is NOT self promotion! I've been really racking my head for ideas because I've been itching to write some Hinny, and the idea of their first date really just came to me when I was getting ready to sleep one night (istg the way this brain works) so I was like 'obviously have to write this asap??"

So here it is, a little something about Ginny and her feelings for Harry as she waits (and meets) him for their first date! Written from Ginny's POV because who doesn't like that? Also, I tried to keep this one short and sweet :)

I'm not really in love with this, but nevertheless don't let it flop ahaha

Please do send me any requests for something you might want to see written and I'd love to write them! Wouldn't be me if I didn't plug in my AO3 so here it is.

Hope you enjoy this!

----

Way too crowded. Way too many couples. Way too many pairs of people holding hands. If Ginny would see another couple, she would definitely scream and stomp back home.

Meeting at the Grand Market during Christmas for her and Harry's first date had been her boyfriend's absolutely genius idea, something Ginny at the time, had actually looked forward to. This whole plan of meeting Harry outside uni, all dressed up, and a promise of strolling after dinner along the river, had all seemed a VERY good idea to her then. But she had also been distracted with how Harry had been doing things to her neck with his lips so that may or may not have influenced her agreement about the date venue.

But now that she was here, looking beyond the ocean of people, the place really looked gorgeous. Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, lending the big market square with a magical air. There was just something about the Grand Market, especially during Christmas. Maybe it was the aroma of freshly baked gingerbread wafting from her favourite coffeeshop, or the excited children pointing at things they'd like Santa to get them. Or maybe it seemed extra special today, because of her impending meeting with one chaotic haired man.

Ginny let out a warm breath, rubbing her gloved hands together. It wasn't that Harry was late- Ginny was just super early. It was her mother's age old adage to be early rather than on time, and that was why she stood in the square, looking at the number of people passing by. Yellow glows rose from the various stores, and Ginny could hear faint carols playing somewhere a few feet away. Swarms of enthusiastic people of all kinds- couples, families and even individuals, peered into stores, wondering how make their loved ones' holidays just a bit more enchanting. It was yet another thing which made Christmas so endearing to her.

Ginny looked at her wrist watch. 6:55 PM. Harry would be arriving any minute now. They had arranged to meet at 7, right where Ginny currently stood. A few more minutes must have passed by when she finally saw Harry walk towards her, a broad grin on his face and hands in his coat pockets. It wasn't that he never looked good- in fact, always to the contrary. But today, he just looked extra nice. A deep green turtleneck, complimenting his eyes, with dark brown pants and a similarly coloured woollen coat. He wore the cream muffler her mother had knit for his last birthday around his neck, rendering his fair cheeks with a slightly reddish tinge. His nose was red too, and it was taking all of Ginny's strength to not stand on her toes and press her lips to his nose.

"Hi. You look," He started, breathily, running his eyes over her. Ginny suddenly felt self conscious- she had dressed up more than usual. Was it too much? Her red dress with black stockings, heels and a black overcoat had seemed plain enough at the time.

"Is it okay? I feel a bit overdressed." She said, suddenly embarrassed. Her hand tucked a loose curl from her bun behind her ear.

"No. You're dazzling." Harry said seriously, moving closer to her. She smiled, convinced, and moved, by his sincerity.

"Thank you." She said, finally standing on her toes and pulling Harry into a hug, her arms wrapping securely around his neck. She could feel his warm, ungloved hands settle at her waist, keeping her to him tightly, yet slightly loose- a promise of committment, seemingly woven with the slightest insecurity. She just hugged him tighter in response, hoping that it could convey what she wanted to say. And it did, because Harry's grip tightened around her, his face burying further into her neck, pressing a soft kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, it seemed as if the crowd had quietened down to give them their moment. Everything seemed calmer, more tranquil, as soon as Harry let go of Ginny but kept one hand woven with hers, in his coat pocket. It made her hands extra toasty- Harry's hands were always warm, and combined with her gloves, the residence of their interwoven hands inside Harry's coat pocket signified to Ginny days of warmth and comfort ahead. Even when they found themselves in the most terrible of winters. She sincerely hoped Harry felt the same, looking up at the side of his face.

"Let's go, we have our reservation." Harry looked back, and as if mind reading, his green eyes reflected a combination of determination and adoration. Ginny just smiled in response, nodding. This had always been their thing. Even though it was their first date as a couple, they had known each other since school as Ron, her older brother, was Harry's best mate. And they had always managed to convey their feelings without words, as if they were made to communicate this way.

She had hoped her silly schoolgirl crush on Harry would fade as she grew up, but it seemed to be something which intensified every day, every month of the year. Even when they were with other people. It had never felt so right, so right as Ginny's hand perfectly sitting with Harry. Or so right when she looked him in the eye and saw plain, simple love. It was as if they were two pieces of a jigsaw, incomplete until they fit together.

And as she walked through the market with Harry's hand in hers, all the couples so much in love suddenly seemed a tiny bit more bearable to her.

#hinny headcanon #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #ginny weasley #harry x ginny #hinny #headcanon #romance

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maxbegone · 4 years ago

Text

AND WE ARE BACK!

Part two of the Schitt’s Creek Community Fic Rec is here! This time, we focused on celebrating our favorite AU’s! Once again, this is dedicated with love to the the authors of this community! Every participant chose one AU (which was a little hard to do for some) to share and why they enjoyed it.

Thank you to everyone who submitted!

@bestwisheswarmestregards // @brighter-than-sunshine // @danieljradcliffe // @devilstelephone // @fishyspots // @imargaery // @justwaiting23 // @patrickbrewsky // @rockinhamburger // @roguebabyinyourstore // @rosebuddsmotel // @stuck-on-your-heart // @the-13th-wheel // @thedidipickles // @thisbuildinghasfeelings // @yourbuttervoicedbeau

And a very special thank you to anyone who has ever written anything in this community!

Everything is posted below the cut, and you can check out part one here!

**As always, if I missed an author’s tumblr handle, please let me know!

@bestwisheswarmestregards

Odd Man Rush by @samwhambam

It’s David and Patrick and Hockey! Three of my favorite things! Also the ending is one of my favorite endings. It’s so sweet! It’s part of the series score and all of the stories are so cute but this one is my favorite!

@brighter-than-sunshine

Thanks For Choosing Bagged! by dinnfameron

I love this one because the dialogue is so adorable, and true to David and Patrick! I can totally see the characters getting involved in something like this, like a different version of a rom-com.

@danieljradcliffe

Going Down by concannonfodder

This is one of the best stories of NYC!David and recently out Patrick while they're both trying to find themselves. It's beautifully written and my favourite part is that each chapter switches between David and Patrick's POV. It does a great job of highlighting the aspects of their personalities that we know and love but shows them to us in a new light.

@devilstelephone

sustineo by @rockinhamburger

The contemporary art discussions between Patrick and David are interesting and important to the story. Patrick still cares for and emotionally connects with David In a world that is so different than Schitt’s Creek. I liked that Sebastian Raine was the evil force without being included as a character.

@fishyspots

Welcome to Cabaret by @vivianblakesunrisebay

It's lovely from start to finish! In this 'verse, Christmas World didn't pull out, so David didn't get the lease for the general store. Instead, he gets roped into helping Moira with Cabaret, and meets Patrick (kind of) through that. I love the way this author writes. The dialogue is in-character, and the plot is wonderful and pulls out moments from canon and reimagines them in some truly inspired ways. I'm such a fan of all of this author's works; this was the first one I read, and it remains my favorite.

@imargaery

David.; or, a Tale of Misapplied Sense by Siria

A Jane Austen D&P AU and it is BRILLIANT. If you're an Austen fan, you will be able to immediately pick up on how well this author adapted Austen's style, wit, character descriptions, and ability to whack you over the head with romance when you're not even ready for it yet. Siria is a very experienced fanfic writer, but writes for many fandoms, so I think that's maybe why it doesn't have that many hits? I'm so glad I clicked on it. I want to wrap myself up in this story. I want to make a podfic out of it. I want to put it on a t-shirt and wear it every day. Also, it's in a regency AU where homophobia isn't a thing, so you don't even have to worry about that. I want to tell you more, but that would spoil it. Just read the damn thing and thank me later.

@justwaiting23

You Were the Ocean, I Was Just a Stone by @al-ex-an-d-er-hamiltons

The image of a curly haired fisherman Patrick is enough but this whole fic is such a sweet concept. Their interactions in this are so reminiscent of the show but also so different because they already know each other vaguely, and I come back to this fic over and over just because it's the perfect mix of angsty miscommunication and fluff.

@maxbegone

Known and Be Known by ahurston

As someone who tends to lean toward canon/canon-divergent stories, this was a refreshing take on an AU. Beautifully written and wonderfully raw, ahurston conveyed the vulnerabilities between both David and Patrick so wonderfully. “The mortifying ordeal of being known,” personified in fanfiction format. With humor and some wonderfully hot scenes peppered throughout, this fic was just brilliant from start to finish. I love when authors explore Patrick's insecurities and vulnerabilities - they aren't written about as often as David's are. I implore you to read this, if you're able.

@patrickbrewsky

Bound by Symmetry by barelypink

They say write what you know. I instead read what I know. David is the accidentally fantastic teacher we all wished we'd had in high school, and some of us wish/hope we are or might be one day. This fic is a great exploration of combining everything David knows he is (creative, bright, v.knowledgeable about art) and all the things he thinks he's not (empathetic, a role model, great with kids, selfless, kind, & big hearted) The selling point quote: "And it feels good, David realizes, to have a job that means something, a purpose beyond himself. A place where he feels like he belongs, just like his students." (David Rose proves he is both a good and nice person).

@rockinhamburger

Blackbird, Fly by distractivate

This is a post-apocalyptic story about love, connection, and hope, with a central theme of growth from destruction. I could not put this one down; I read it feverishly in one sitting, desperate to soak up every word. I love this fic because it is what I like to think of as an exemplar for transformative works (one of ao3’s top values). I love the way the fic stretches toward the light in the dark. It makes me think: about the quintessential elements of these characters, what remains the same despite changed circumstance, and what inevitably shifts when these characters we know and love are faced with a situation far outside their experience or comfort. This story likely hits differently in 2020, when post-apocalyptic narratives feel much less distant than they might have just a year ago. And yet, all the more reason to read an incredible work about hope and resilience and transformation.

@roguebabyinyourstore

Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman

Where do I even begin with this fic? I was at first skeptical about what reason David Rose would have to willingly subject himself to a trek through the wilderness out of his own volition. Well I’m so glad I ignored that admittedly stupid part of me because this is one of the mostly beautifully crafted stories I have ever read. Patrick and David are individually on their own journeys of self-discovery, but the way they help each other find what they sought... It’s breathtaking. Their feelings for each other bloom so organically over their time together that despite the circumstances laid out before them, the miles that they stumble and walk and run bring them miles closer to each other. Closer to the love that they both didn’t know they needed. The characters come alive and are identical to their canon selves. The dialogue and banter are spot on David and Patrick. The writing itself is superb. The tropes are incredible, the pining and *oh no there’s only one tent.* The slow burn is tantalizing but in a way that feels true to a genuine love story. The way the setting somehow breathes in tune with the characters, the way they leave messages behind in the trail register—conveying more than they can utter aloud— and the way their families communicate with them throughout their time on the trail through letters. All of the elements of this story ground it in universal truth, in feelings that are not only relatable, believable but demand to be felt. I can wax poetic until I am blue in the face, but really... Read this story. And then reread it a million times.

@rosebuddsmotel

I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by @ladyflowdi and @ships-to-sail

There are over 180,000 words in this WWII AU, but not one of those words is wasted. It is gorgeous in its prose, and incredibly romantic without romanticizing the very real pain and tragedies of the era in which it exists. It's not an easy read by any means, but it's the kind of cathartic emotional journey that is more than worth it in the end.

@stuck-on-your-heart

kiss from a rose by mihaly ( @davidroseshusband )

What can I say about this very special fic that would do it justice? In this story, Alexis stars in a Bachelorette-style dating show and it’s every bit as brilliant as it sounds. On top of the incredible characterization, there are little surprises at every turn, there’s pining, and of course, there’s love. Secret love, even. This fic is truly addicting – I promise you won’t be able to stop once you start reading, and it will leave you feeling so satisfied (and if you’re like me, a little misty)!!!

@the-13th-wheel

Hold Me Like You’ll Never Let Me Go by @mooodlighting

It is a wonderful short AU where Patrick and David where they meet at an airport after they get snowed in. It is cute, there is longing and pining that just make it a wonderful read!

@thedidipickles

Beneath the Winter Snow by Distractivate

The writing is so utterly gorgeous all the way throughout that I frequently needed to take breaks to breathe. The author *perfectly* builds an Olympic world that I can totally see my favorite characters inhabiting, and the resolution is gorgeous. All of Distractivate's AUs are amazing, but this one still stands out.

@thisbuildinghasfeelings

How Do We Get Back by @unfolded73

This one deals with a literal alternate universe, which is the first thing I loved about it because I had never read a fic quite like it before. It's a beautifully written 60,000+ word masterpiece that definitely makes me feel ALL the feelings. In addition, it is absolutely riveting. I could not stop reading until I got to the end.

@yourbuttervoicedbeau

Make It To Me by figmentof ( @rosesdavid )

Epistolatory fic is SO hard to pull off and the author does such an incredible job with the way the characters shine through even though we only see them interact via text message. This fic is my comfort food and I reread it regularly <3

Anonymous Recs:

Just Breathe by olivebranchesandredwine

I love this one because it's got Patrick as a yoga teacher (hot!) and shows David being proactive about anxiety and it's just such a lovely story.

Shall I Stay? by alladaydream ( @maybewecandreamalittle )

This is so worth the 100k wordcount. 18-year-old David and Patrick sweetly leaning into first love, a lot of angst and pining in the middle that allow them both to heal and grow, and a heartfelt reconciliation. Plus, two bonus cherries on top with artist!David and a beautiful epilogue in which they (spoiler) live happily ever after. The tone and pacing of this fic is so good, and I always go back to it when I want to read something comforting.

Your Heart is Keeping Time with Me by @yourbuttervoicedbeau

I haven't seen 50 First Dates, but this fic is better than the movie could ever be. The author's writing is so beautiful and her David who has amnesia and her Patrick who wants to help him are just PERFECT. I want more and more and more of this.

Once again, thank you to everyone who participated and thank you to every single person who has written something in this community! It would be wonderful to do a part three, but for now, enjoy some alternate universe fics!

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darker-soft-starker · 5 years ago

Note

Love your blog! Could we have a snippet of a starker good marriage au? Where Tony comes home one night to see his hiding place not exactly how he left it so he checks the Internet history (sloppy peter) and realises his husband has put it together. So he goes upstairs but peters there- in bed, not calling the police...or maybe from peters POV? Whichever you prefer! Super fan over here ;) ☺️❤️

Awww thanks nonnie!! You’re so lovely and I have utterly butchered your prompt, for that I am exceedingly sorry. This is not remotely good, whatever this is.

Warnings: Dark!Tony, mentions of murder, child abuse, dark fluff

———-

It’s long been said that home is where the heart is.

Whatever it meant, Peter had always found that the old adage difficult to reconcile with - after all, home was six years old, belt welts and whiskey breath. It was holes in his sneakers, cupboards that echoed and the purple and red on the side of his mother’s mouth. Home was something you carried with you to the principal’s office, the hot end of the cigarette and being firmly told that his red-raised knuckles are not pillars to rest on.

What was home if you didn’t choose it - if you were always trying to run away from it?

That’s what he’d always thought anyway - and that’s what he did. Threadbare hoodie, battered backpack and clutching the fifty he’d stolen, Peter ran. He fled into the warm embrace of his Aunt May who mended his patchwork heart with Sinatra on Sunday mornings and hot chocolate, Luke Skywalker nights.

Love for May was the sound of New York traffic and the smell of nicotine drifting from her bedroom window, overcooked spaghetti and the tickle of her hair on his skin. She wasn’t perfect but she made him feel like he had a place, a room with no conditions.

When she died a few years after, Peter ran again. He made a map of heart-lines all across the state trying to find himself in all of the people he came across. From the lonely girl with the curly hair who offered him a kind smile as he shivered around a steaming cup of coffee, to the boy with the brilliant brain and piercing blue eyes who made made grainy, chalk-masterpieces on worn footpaths.

He never knew most of them but their faces were like picture frames, their conversations his home movies.

The price of living in a place he was supposed to call home in New York never got cheaper and so he worked. He was working for eight dollars an hour and twenty percent off stock when Peter had first met Tony.

Tony Stark, he’d introduced himself as. An older man, dark suit, salt-and-pepper temples. Old school charm and eyes that were gentle.

It was easy to find a home in Tony.

The way his arms wrapped around Peter felt more like four walls than anywhere he’d found a roof overhead and so they dated. They dated and fought and fucked, dug themselves into each others skin. The furrow was so deep they had got married six months after their first kiss, neither of them had family except each other now - Peter didn’t look backwards from where he had ran from.

It was hard to want to when he walked home after a long day, trudging himself up to their single-room apartment with the leaking roof and the floorboards that squeaked in protest when you stepped over them, the tap that never stopped dripping - and Tony, the centre of it all.

Tony was there to massage his aching shoulders after an arduous day, to kiss his forehead, his cheek, his lips, to enter through the doorway into his body and whisper sweet-nothings into his ear like wind whistling against the windows. Tony was all finger-tracing, wit and he called Peter husband so fondly like it was a gift. It was easy to love him.

Eventually they started their own business together, moving out of the one-bedroom into something more quaint on the outskirts of town by the oak trees. A cottage he cared for because Tony was in it - an extension of them, but just a thing.

They tasted success as business bloomed, dealing and appraising rare-coins, combining both of their loves into a venture that made Peter feel like he was someone, like an explorer, like he was bringing together his half to their whole.

But success meant Tony was out of town sometimes for their clients.

It left them both somewhat vacant whenever he had to go, never more than a day or two, Tony stealing remorseful kisses in the lowlight of dawn as he leaves, taking the light with him.

For Peter there was not one place called home when home was a person - because when that person is not there it is just a house. A property. Just four walls whose roof isn’t as comforting as his husbands body wrapped around him, inside him. A house didn’t have a heartbeat he could feel thumping under his hand or look at Peter with an adoring smile, soft eyes that crinkled around the edges. A house didn’t breathlessly tell Peter they loved him, didn’t hold him when he wept through the afterimages of his nightmares, didn’t make him feel like he was a cathedral, worth more than weathered sneakers and the pink stitches of skin on his back.

Years passed, settling into their new community like the way that the smell of tobacco latches onto fabric in that weary what can you do about it kind of way. Peter didn’t mind so much feeling like an outlier, he had Tony and their work and passion for both that kept him warm.

He stayed in the shell they called residence when Tony was out on business and when he came back Tony made him remember that he was a temple. Tony’s tongue licked and laved and moved inside him, all reverence and repentance. Peter was only too eager to forgive for just one more loving kiss.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t immediately turn around and leave everything behind when he stumbled in their dusty garage, used only when either of them pretended to care about gardening. Maybe that’s why he didn’t pack up and run again when he found the dog tags and the ID card in a hidden compartment in the metal shelving.

Michelle Jones.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The names sounded like his heart jarring, like a baseball breaking through a window - he didn’t know what else to do except gingerly place the items back in the box and wander back into the house in a confused daze, because why, dust motes and orange sun rays in his eyes. Despite swearing never to drink the whiskey Tony keeps in stock Peter finds himself reaching for it. It always burns.

He’d always drank it sticky and smoky from Tony’s lips anyway.

The wind rattles against the windows and he remembered he needed batteries for the storm, the torches laying uselessly on the coffee table when the lights begin to flicker. But he still has signal on his phone and the light of his laptop to guide his hand to the bottle and the keys as he spells out their names into the search bar and what comes back up is deceased and mystery and suddenly the whiskey doesn’t taste too bad anymore.

The lonely girl with the curly hair.

The brilliant boy with blue eyes.

The whiskey emboldens him to keep typing furiously, misspelling often as his vision blurs and his throat burns.

Peter can trace a disappearance to every single one of Tony’s business trips, the dates, the locations. It all aligns right before him, like pages that had been missing all along.

The victims, at least five of them, are murdered with the same signature method: blunt force trauma followed by the post-mortem removal of the victims heart.

The cavity left in the deceased’s chest is always filled with pennies.

He doesn’t even realise he’s called Tony until the man answers, tinny and concerned on the other end of the call. Dwindling percentage blinks back at him, a shaky thumb pressing the call to speaker.

“…Baby? You there?”

“I’m here,” Peter swallows. “Just wanted to call you. Miss you.”

He hears Tony’s soft sigh as clear as the whistling wind. “Miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon, promise.”

He sniffs. “When’s soon?”

“Soon,” Tony laughs, low and familiar. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods, feeling syrupy, eyes glazing over. “Just wanted to hear your voice. There’s a storm.”

Peter doesn’t like loud noises. Doesn’t like metal clanging, glass shattering, doesn’t like how thunder sounds like belt buckles and upturned chairs hitting floors and fists on walls and how it reminds him that houses can only protect him from the elements. Sometimes when it storms Tony will curl up behind him in bed, and place his hands over Peter’s ears and press kisses to neck, other times he will stand with Peter in the shower until the water runs cold, their rapture echoing off the tiles.

There’s a pause.

“You sure you’re okay? Why don’t you turn some music on and get under the covers, sweetheart.”

“Good idea,” Peter lies. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

The thing with finding a home in a person is that sometimes there are parts to uncover and things you only notice when you stare long enough - secret rooms, hidden compartments and it’s just after that you notice the one floorboard that has begun to rot and ceilings that have cracks or the way the door hinges doesn’t work just right. Maybe he doesn’t work just right, either.

You can either pack-up and leave, or content yourself with the window that sticks and the dust-motes and say there aint no place like it.

“Love you too,” Peter whispers, shaking to his core as thunder rolls overhead.

——-

Tony comes home early.

His husbands eyes are dark when he finds Peter curled up in their bed later, late enough for the pale grey of early morning to filter through the glass. One of Tony’s business shirts is draped over Peter’s shoulders, curtain to everything outside of their bed as he rouses.

“You left your laptop open. You been doin’ some research, baby?” Tony croaks, jaw set, mouth turned downwards.

Peter doesn’t like that so he beckons, arms like open doorways when he reaches for his husband and takes him by the hand, wedding rings clicking togethers like locks latching. In Tony’s other hand is the ID and the dog-tags dangling by his side. He’s over being mad about being kept in the dark, long away off the initial burn of anger, too relieved that the vacancy is full again to mourn.

It feels like home when Tony kneels onto the bed and presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead, like their bed is a pulpit, the heat of Tony’s body as he nuzzles into his side a sermon.

Peter turns his head to capture his lips, wondering how long Tony has been praying to him.

“Some” he admits. “I might need to pick your brain later. How did the trip go?”

Tony stills for a moment before the bristles of his beard scrape Peter’s cheek, a smile.

“Good. I found us a 1955 double die cent.”

“How much did the owner want for it?” Peter asks, raising their joined hands to kiss Tony’s red-raised knuckles, all copper and nickel.

The shirt falls loosely around his waist when he shrugs it off just to see how Tony’s eyes become a cavern, the slack of his jaw an invitation that Peter has always wanted to run into and curl up in. Maybe he should be running from the dark inside it, the unexplored territory, but he doesn’t. It just feels like a heartbeat, steadfast as a metronome, home.

“Just a few pennies,” Tony answers, eyes falling to Peter’s heart.

#starker #starker fic #good marriage au #dark tony #tw: murder #tw: mentioned child abuse #i don't know what this is #and i am profoundly sorry #how far can you stretch a metaphor

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yououghtaknow · 4 years ago

Text

so i filled in this chart (made by @fingersmithbysarahwaters <3) on my twitter dot com account (@/genderhead if you want to see me post more Casual stuff). i am now going to explain it in depth because i am autistic and my special interest is my own show.

NOTE: the way i did this chart was that the "coded" column is who people see you as and the "girl" column is who you are. also i am not an expert in riverdale analysis, i simply know what i’ve heard my very smart friends talking about.

ARCHIE GIRLS

ARCHIE CODED

sandy my best friend sandy….. she is just such an archie in her core. cause archie is the Heart of the town, he’s the Heart of the friend group, and that is very sandy. on the surface, they’re very similar - both being very athletic people, both just really wanting to be liked by everyone, both being kind of lost at the beginning and in a manipulative relationship. but, at the end of the day, archie’s all about being there for the people he loves, and even though he’s spent a lot of time hating himself for his mistakes, he grows and moves on, much like sandy. also they’re both not that good at dancing but will still be in the school musicals to support their friends.

JUGHEAD CODED

jacob love……. he an archie girl at his core because he just wants to protect the people he loves. he is genuinely torn between music and football, and has to deal with knowing people have done bad things and that he can’t do anything about it. he may go about it the wrong way sometimes, but he’s just trying to do what’s best for his friends and himself, which makes him a bit more jughead coded. he’s very much trying to be perceived as a season 1 esque jughead in the fact that he knows he’s different in a deep inherent way and has a hard time articulating it for a while. he also has the trauma of abandonment from both of his parents and runs away to protect himself at one point.

BETTY CODED

ms eleanor early…. i needed to include some not so main characters to fill up the chart, and ellie’s character has always been quite interesting to me, because the roles that sonja and emma play in og skam are very typical of a gay drama, and combining them into one character i think makes her a lot more interesting. ellie is trying to be perceived as a season 1 betty, she has the blonde hair, the perfect upper middle class family, she has a crush on the perfect jock guy, but…. that isn’t really who she is. she’s a fierce protector of what she believes to be the truth and is always ready to stand up for herself and her friends. she thinks she’s a betty coded veronica girl but she is not. also ellie would absolutely name a band after herself.

VERONICA CODED

my best friend james cohen…… james is a very obvious archie girl. he’s very much the heart of his friend group, he literally almost went to jail trying to protect nick. he loves his found family so so dearly and he’s a nice boy who plays a guitar. but when we get into his veronica coding….. veronica is just such an interesting character to me (more on that later) but the way james relates to her. veronica is all about getting validation from her dad and male figures, whereas james is trying to get validation from his mum and female figures in his life. he also openly struggles with alcohol abuse and is very good at giving some one liners. he’s also kind of a mean girl in the first few seasons??? like he’s seen as that way from the pov character. also i believe that, if given the opportunity, james would open a speakeasy/casino underneath a local diner.

JUGHEAD GIRLS

ARCHIE CODED

i am about to interpret characters so wrong. so bryan is what people who don’t view riverdale through the correct lgbt lense think an archie coded jughead girl is like. he’s a jock, he’s been with a lot of girls, he’s kind of stupid (his archie coding) and he’s a bad boy™ who struggles with money problems and is in love with the perfect good girl (who is also a lesbian). he’s just the worst. i hate him.

JUGHEAD CODED

oh <3 would you look at that <3 it’s me <3 isaac yououghtaknowmp3/genderhead <3. i couldn’t think of another random character to included so i just did myself. i am jughead coded in the fact that i am weird i’m a weirdo i don’t “fit in” and i don’t want to fit in. i have always known there is something inherently Other about me and i haven’t tried to hide it ever. i also am a writer and use my writing as a way to process my real life trauma and things going on around me. also the scene where jughead burns down his childhood home and then sings seventeen (reprise) from heathers does affect me on a deep and personal level. i am a bit betty coded in the fact that i Am very much like that.

BETTY CODED

annabell!!!! i love them so so much, they are so fun to me. they’re very much later seasons betty coded, in that fact that i fully believe they have the serial killer genes. they know what they’re good at and they do it well, and they are trying to be seen as a serpent queen type figure, but…. at the end of the day, they do just use sardonic humour to relate to the world. they are covering up their mental illness with strange little jokes and enjoy making bitchy little comment in such a fun way. also they’re a nonbinary lesbian which i think is a very bettycoded jugheadgirl thing to do.

VERONICA CODED

nick my best friend nick!!!!! nick is very veronica coded in the daddy issues way. we see them have issues connecting to their dad and they try to find that bond with other male companions…… he also deals with some substance abuse problems and is very dramatic and uses a lot of pop culture references to cover up their actual issues. but, deep down in his heart, nick is a jughead because he cares deeply about the people around him, even though he has trouble showing it. also he is in love with james in a very similar way to how jughead is in love with archie. also i feel like all of their younger brothers can and will kin jellybean.

BETTY GIRLS

ARCHIE CODED

esther my bestie!!!!!!!! esther is trying so hard to be seen as an archie like figure. she wants to be the centre of the friend group, she wants to be in charge and know what’s going on at all times. she just really wants to be liked all of the time, but that is what makes her such a betty girl. she’s very perfection orientated, and she’s also very ambitious and clever in a betty way. betty’s whole relationship with donna sweett just has esther vibes. also the wig in a box scene in the hedwig episode where betty is trying to make everyone feel better??? very esther core.

JUGHEAD CODED

alistair. thomas. fletcher. god this boy is very jughead coded. from the first moment we see him, he’s Weird. he’s very season 1 jughead in the fact that he’s a gay little outsider trying to stay a gay little outsider but his curiosity gets him dragged into the main plot. also al tries to see the world through the lens of fiction, much like jughead. but at the end of the day, he is a betty. he is very intellectually smart and we see him struggle a lot with perfectionism over what we’ve seen so far. also he’s good at snarking with his siblings and he has fully psychoanalysed people at musical rehearsal for no reason other than to have fun. He’s also a betty for reasons i can’t get into on this night due to Spoilers but you’ll know it when the time comes.

BETTY CODED

rori!!!!!!!!!! rori is such such such a betty in every way. the pastel colours are very her. betty’s relationship with denying her mental illness is very her in the early season. even the betty/archie relationship is quite reminiscent of rori and james’s relationship (i mean this in a gay way not a barchie way). also the way people interpret betty and her sexuality reminds me a lot of rori, the whole performance of femininity riverdale betty specifically does…. also rori is very much a main character type of person and betty is thee main character of riverdale. also betty spending so much of the musical episodes with veronica is a very rori move.

VERONICA CODED

milo woods!!!!! my fave girlboss!!!! they’re very veronica coded in the fact that they are the cool, cultured, popular new kid in town with fancy style. also they are very “you’re gay? thank god, let’s be friends”. but they are very much a betty girl with their insecurities and their girlboss ways being a lot more subtle. like milo shows up out of nowhere like veronica, but psychoanalyses and romances the local lgbt community by being mean to them in a sincere and fun way. also the whole “i’m the daughter of the black hood” speech has milo energy.

VERONICA GIRLS

ARCHIE CODED

sophie!!!!! sophie is archie coded in the fact that she is just so cool and well liked and sporty and hot. like sophie’s whole introduction is like the “whoa! archie got hot!” scene only sandy has always thought she was hot. but sophie is such a veronica at the end of the day. like she is a hashtag girlboss in the sense that she’s the captain of the football team, she’s smart, she’s put together. but also she has a past where she’s been betrayed and assaulted and abused and she’s just trying to keep it all together at the end of the day. sophie kennedy i love you

JUGHEAD CODED

theo alterman. god he is weird, he is a weirdo. he wears dark clothes, he’s deeply sarcastic, but he’s always there for his friends in his own special way. also i feel like theo would fake his own death. he’s also canonically hyperfixated on dungeons and dragons which is an epic jughead moment. but he is very much a veronica girl in the fact that he is so bitchy and fun to his friends but is always there for them and trying to be a good friend. like he messes up a lot but he earnestly trying his best to empathise with his friends and be cool and good. he just wants to fit in so much but also the world according to chris is a very theo song

BETTY CODED

liz my friend elizabeth!!!! she is very betty coded. i mean, both of their names are elizabeth. they’re both blonde, they both deal with overbearing mothers, shitty fathers and high expectations. they both struggle with mental illness in a very repressed way and also liz is very intellectual. but she is such a veronica. liz is seeking out validation constantly and is willing to change who she is just to get people to like her. she’s also very desperate for friends and will always try her best to keep them. also liz says some absolutely wild lines in a fun veronica way. liz would say i recognise those abs anywhere about james.

VERONICA CODED

finally my best friend in the whole wide world brianna holland. oh bree. my love my light. they are just such a veronica girl. veronica’s relationship with femininity and sexuality is very similar to bree’s, with equating sex to both power and validation. in a way, bree is also seeking out her father in the men she’s had relations with in the past, but we see her grow from that and move on to a girl (like veronica should also do). also bree is just such a girlboss i love them so much. also they both have a secret sibling which gets a very dramatic reveal. it’s so intensely fun. also it’s about the reputation by taylor swift.

thank you for reading, stan riverdale, stan skam brighton, and please know that i wrote this instead of doing my final piece of coursework <3

#skam brighton #isaac speaks #genuinely the pain of having my special interest be the show that i write is just..... so strange #but alas here is my 5 page long mini essay about my funny little guys and riverdale #heart emoji

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whoopsimwritingagain · 5 years ago

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Can I request a clace fanfic? Maybe when they are married or engaged idk quite a bit into their relationship. Maybe jace gets jealous of clary joking with another boy and you can decide what happens. 💙

A/N: I’m sorry if this is a weird mix of TV/ book universe I’m just kind of going for it and I’ve been re-reading and watching the TV show so my wires are a bit crossed. Also, this is an AU where Simon remembers everything and can be with Izzie and apparently vampires can have children now! There are no rules. Also oops you’re getting a long-ass proposal flashback as well (two for the price of one!) because as stated before, there are no rules. I wrote this in 4.5 hours after midnight in my bed so hopefully, it still has a plotline in the morning. I really hope you like it! Give me notes or criticisms or requests!!!

Category: Fluff with angst peppered in

Warnings: Suggestive humor, angst, rare cursing, and not really adultery but jealousy I suppose???

Word Count: 3706

- 3 years after City of Heavenly Fire -

*Clary’s POV*

The early March snow falls lightly from a grey New York sky. Jace, Isabelle, Simon, and I sit in our regular booth at Taki’s on a double date. Well… it was less of a date and more of a meeting. After all, I had been dubbed Isabelle’s amatuer baby shower planner, and she, my wedding planner. Wedding. that word still sends my head spinning. It isn’t that I’m not ready, or that I don’t want this. I mean, after all, I’m living my dream! I had always known I would marry Jace, but something about this is so surreal and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

Still, a wedding! I try to ground myself as Izzy explains what she had in mind for the floral arrangements, but, as can be expected, I find myself daydreaming instead. Jace popped the question the night of Izzy and Simon’s wedding. We were driving home from the reception as they had portaled to Idris for their honeymoon, and while I napped in the passenger seat Jace had driven us out of the city to Luke’s farm in the countryside. I imagine his grip on the wheel was a little tighter than usual as he ran over his speech in his head and the jewelry box burned a hole in his pocket. He let me sleep until just before sunrise when he started to lightly trace the runes that swirled across my arms. The less-than-comfortable car seat, combined with the introduction of sunlight, and the touch of my love had all awoken me. He told me he had a surprise for me and carried me bridal-style a few hundred yards until I tapped him on the shoulder to signal that I could make it the rest of the way to wherever this “surprise” was on my own. He laid out a blanket on the side of a big hill where I used to play tag with Simon while my mother painted. I had brought him out here the night of her wedding - it is one of my favorite places. He laid down and I laid on his chest as the stars dimmed and the sky transitioned from muted blues into various shades of pastels. After several minutes of laying there in silence, I twisted around and kissed him gently, at first, and then deeper. We stayed like this for a while, until I noticed a dampness on his cheeks. He wasn’t crying per se… but he was teary. I wiped some of the moisture away with my thumb. “Jace, what’s wrong?” He bit his lip and gently shook his head regaining his composure “S’nothin.” He pulled my leg over his torso and I straddled him as we continued to kiss. Things got more heated, though he was moving at a slower pace than I was used to, so I pressed my body closer to him and grinned. “Do you have something in your pocket, or are you excited to see me?” I questioned. Little did I know how intensely my cheesy jibe was going to backfire. My then-boyfriend chuckled, almost sadly, under my weight. “Jace… what’s wrong?” he glanced to the wildflowers scattered about the field next to us. “I’m nervous Clary,” he confessed. Now it was my turn to giggle, “Why would you be nervous silly?” I ran my fingers through his hair and gazed in wonder at the morning sky reflected in his eyes which were just a bit watery now and he flashed his classic smirk. “Well, this isn’t how I had planned on this going at all!” He exclaimed as he ran his hands up and down my sides slowly, “I’m not complaining though… it’s just a little less traditional than I had wanted.” I raised one eyebrow, “Since when have you ever wanted to do anything traditionally?” He smiled up at me knowingly and held both of my hands in his, “Well typically I would ask your father first, but that one seemed out of the question so I asked Jocelyn and Luke. And, well, normally instead of you straddling me I would get down on one knee in front of you. But! Here we are, and I did get one thing right.” He dropped my left hand to dig in his pocket and pulled out a dazzling emerald ring set amongst tiny diamonds and my vision went blurry. “You’re a size six and a half right?” he questioned feigning confidence, but I heard his voice waver. “Isn’t there something else you should ask me?” I struggled to say attempting to match his wit but instead meeting his emotional vulnerability. “Clarissa… Clarissa Fairchild,” he spoke softly now, his eyes locked with mine, “you know beyond a shadow of a doubt how absolutely madly in love with you I am, and somehow you feel the same way,” he was really crying at this point, “to me you are the most important thing in this world and I will never turn my back on you unless you ask me to, so would you do me the pleasure of marrying me?” No words left my mouth so I met him with a small yet unspeakably meaningful kiss instead. When the kiss subsided I nodded gently our faces centimeters apart. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Clary!” Isabelle snaps, pulling me out of my daydreams. “I swear to god if you keep on doing this it’s neon Gerber daisies the whole night!” Izzy gripes at me “and I’m allergic!” Simon pipes in eliciting a blushing eye roll from Isabelle. “Sorry” I blush as Jace looks at me quizzically. Before he has a chance to question me Isabelle’s necklace starts to glow red causing the hair on my neck to stand up. “Oh no” Simon whispers. Izzy begins to get up “Well?! Let’s go!” she insists. “Not so fast!” Jace interjects, “Isabelle if you think you are going on a mission anytime in the next year you’re even crazier than I thought you were.” He turns to Simon now “Simon you take her home. Clary and I will take care of this.” Izzy looks like she is going to protest for a split second but instead thinks better of it. As Simon reaches for her wrist to take her away from the danger she puts on hand up to unclasp her necklace and hands it to me. “Clary, I have a feeling you’ll be needing this more than I for the foreseeable future.” I grasp it firmly, “Thank you, Isabelle.” Jace grabs my shoulder and I turn to face him “Let’s go” he suggests “Let’s” I answer.

We run out into the alleyway together where we see a teen girl’s limp body lying against a building about 50 yards away. We run in the direction of the body when we catch sight of the culprit, a possessed young man with light hair, running East. Jace and I communicate nearly telepathically as he runs over a block to try and cut the demonic boy off as I tail him. I had nearly caught up when Jace burst out of an alleyway tackling the boy to the ground and holding his arms behind his back, presenting his chest to me. But it can’t be. I can’t be seeing what I’m seeing. Then again if I’m not seeing what I’m seeing the boy would have been dead. The boy in front of me was the spitting image of Jonathan. But the Jonathan this boy is bringing to my eyes now is not the one who tried to kill all of my loved ones, held me hostage, and had a strange obsession with me. The boy in front of me transforms instantly into the Jonathan who died in my arms, finally freed of his impurities, the only real brother I ever had. “Clary! What are you doing! Kill him he’s strong.” Jace’s yelling interrupts my thoughts, but the boy still seems so innocent. I have an irresistible urge to save him, to set him free. I kneel in front of the boy, the demon admittedly, and I do the unthinkable. I kiss him. Not on his mouth but on his forehead, his cheek, his nose. I’m not in my right mind as I whisper, “please, please come back. Make it alright again.” Jace recoils in disgust and the demon, a lesser one, is set free leaving a gash in my arm as he leaves the boys body and flies off into the night and the boy, now dead, collapses onto the sidewalk. I’m shaking and the world doesn’t feel quite real yet. I feel nothing and everything all at the same time and when I finally look up to my fiance for reassurance Jace is fuming. Oh. Oh my god, what have I done? Why did I do that? I put him at risk, I put myself at risk. I kissed the face of a demon. What am I doing? “Jace -I” I realize my face is wet with tears. “You’re hurt,” he states. He walks over to me and inspects my wound, taking off his jacket to place over my torn one. “I’m taking you back to the institute” but his voice carries no emotion.

In the car his knuckles are white on the steering wheel and though we are three-fourths of the way to the institute he hasn’t said a word to me. “Jace I- I’m so sorry,” I choke out “I don’t know what came over me I really d-” “Stop,” he interrupts. “But I-” I try again. “I can’t do this right now!” he runs a red light and continues driving determinately in the direction of his institute.

As we arrive he asks no one in particular for a medic to accompany me to the infirmary. And then he just… leaves. He walks to the stairwell and I catch my last glimpse of him for the next few hours as the door swings shut. Sitting in the infirmary without him there stings. It stings more than the antiseptic and the stitches the two medics at my bedside work at. Although I’m sure that my actions outside of the diner hurt worse, and shocked him more. As much as I tell myself that it doesn’t lessen my pain, it focuses it. Jace is the love of my life and I can’t believe I hurt him in such a stupid and irrational fashion. It’s been three years since Johnathan died. Since we killed the only part of him strong enough to sustain life. With Jace being promoted to head of the institute a meer six months later after Alec moved to Idris to serve on the council and restart with Magnus life had gotten so inexplicably busy. That’s when I had stopped going to therapy. I truly believed I was over this, but I suppose I proved myself wrong tonight. I would talk to the psychiatrist at the institute in the morning about getting back on the schedule before I have a psychotic break at the altar. Wedding. Oh… wedding, my fiance. betrayal… ouch.

Then Isabelle and Simon walk through the door and Isabelle informs the medics that Jace would like to know if my wounds have any severity to them. Yikes, he won’t even come in here himself to ask about me. God, I hate myself right now. She sends me a sympathetic and intense look as they reassure her I will be fine after a few hours of rest with my treatment and turns assumedly to report back to Jace. Simon, however, leaves her side and walks over to sit on the cot across from me. Tears start to spill out of the corners of my eyes and Simons eyes are almost painfully fill with sympathy as he sees my own. “I don’t know very much,” he says “do you need to talk? Or would you rather be distracted by the story of Passover with my nana meeting my pregnant nineteen-year-old wife?” This is the first thing all night that has lifted my spirits at all. I even giggle a little causing the medics to chastise Simon. “You have to tell me that one soon, but, Simon, I really screwed up.” My voice cracks as the tears start to spill down my cheeks. “My ears are yours Fray,” Simon reassures. So I tell him. I tell him everything that funneled into what happened tonight. And he is maybe the best best-friend/ ex-boyfriend anyone could ask for because he listens, attentively, and actively to all of my hot mess. “Well Clary, It isn’t the most ideal situation you could have gotten yourself into.” I nod as he responds to my ramblings. “But, after the past five years we’ve had, it’s certainly not the worst. If I were Jace I would be hurt. You’re an easy person to get jealous over. But you and Jace have overcome so many odds and you know each other so well. You need to talk this out but I’m sure you’ll be on the other end of this in no time.” The medics ask Simon to leave and explaining to my uninterested ears that I need to sleep for a couple of hours for the salve to take effect. “I need to speak to Jace I don’t have time to sleep right now,” I argue. “The gaping wound on your arm says otherwise Ms. Fairchild, don’t you have a sleeveless wedding gown to put on in a few months?” one medic claps back. At this moment I realize just how exhausted I am from all of this. “Thank you, Simon, I love you,” I state before he closes the door behind him. I lay my head down on the pillow and fall into an uneasy sleep within minutes.

Nearly three hours later I wake up with a single-mindedness to confront Jace and be back in his arms. I don’t wait for the medics to talk to me. I just get up and head to the training room, where I know he’ll be if he needs to burn off steam. I was right, he was there, but when I show up to the training room a young shadowhunter informs me that I’ve just missed him. I run up the stairs to our shared suite, which is probably ill-advised as it makes my arm throb, but I’m far too impatient for the elevator right now. I open and close the door quietly to discover that he’s in the shower. Nothing has ever stopped me from interrupting him there before. However, this is different, I haven’t messed up this badly before. I haven’t hurt him like this before. So instead I pull a barstool out from our counter and wait. Somehow this waiting is worse than the overthinking earlier while I got stitches. I think it has something to do with the fact that he’s right there, in the next room. Additionally, I know he’s thinking about me. I sit there for a few minutes and let more tears fall as they may. But now he’s turned the water off and I know I only have a matter of seconds to regain my composure. I wipe my last tear away and tuck a stray strand of hair back as he opens the door. Steam rolls from the opening and he walks out with a towel tied dangerously low on his waist. It’s nothing I haven’t seen a thousand times before, but it’s still just as mouthwatering, again, this is not the time. He, of course, is unsurprised by my presence with his catlike reflexes. However, he is looking at me with a pain in his eyes I haven’t seen in years. I have never felt this responsible for his pain, and feeling it is horrible.

Finally, the silence is broken. “Hi,” he says after a few beats. Good. It’s good that he wants to talk. That’s step one. I can’t force this on him. “Hello Jace” I respond and I sound like a child confessing to their parents that they did eat the last cookie and the dog didn’t knock over Grandma’s vase. I want normal us so badly right now. “So… “ Jace says. “Yeah” is all I can say. How do I do this? “I’m going to get dressed,” he states. He walks over to his drawer to pull on sweats and a v neck as I stare at the counter. “I know what I did was wrong.” I begin. “I would take it back if I could, I would do almost anything in the world to take it back… but I can’t.” I look up to gauge his reaction, I can’t read him right now but I decide to continue. “I can say that I’m really, really sorry. I’ll never do anything like that again, I promise.” He’s looking me in the eye now which makes this nearly unbearable. I stand up from my barstool but remain across the room. “I know I hurt you,” my voice cracks. Goddammit, I’m crying now “And I know you don’t owe me forgiveness or anything, but I want you to know how very very sorry I am. Because I love you so much, Jace. If I had to set one goal for the rest of my life I would just want to never hurt you again.” After about a minute he breaks his silence. “You shouldn’t want that,” I look up at him confused “What on earth do you mean?” “I don’t want you to not hurt me, screw being hurt, I want you to love me! That’s what’s important here and it bothers me that you don’t see that. That you not only wanted to kiss another guy but then you did yeah that hurts Clary. That lack of love really f*cking hurts.” My jaw drops. How can he question my loyalty? I know I messed up but I can’t believe he said that. That that’s what he’s thought about how I feel for him for the last several hours. A fresh set of hot tears invade my already salty cheeks. “Jace, I’m sorry, I know I messed up but I can’t believe after all we’ve been through that you would ever think even for a second that I ever loved you even slightly less than all that is god damned humanly possible and then some! I mean we chased this demon after a meeting where we were planning our wedding where I couldn’t focus on what Izzy was saying about flowers because you had your hand on my thigh or I was thinking about how much I love you.” He scoffs which sends a salt spray into my metaphorical wound. “I’m sorry,” he says sardonically, “I didn’t realize you wanted to kiss a demon because you’re just so in love with me!” Now it finally clicks. I can’t believe I missed this the whole time! He even said it earlier. “Wait! You think that I wanted to kiss him because I was attracted???? To a demon???” Jace is unwavering, “what other explanation is there?!” I sit back down for this one. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it earlier,” you sigh, “I didn’t even necessarily want to kiss him. I wanted to save him. I guess that was just how it manifested.” Jace blinks, “Clary you’ve been hunting for five years you know that we can’t save possessed humans. You should be used to this by now? I was sure you were.” I shake my head, “No, not because he was human. Because he… he reminded me so much of Jonathan.” Jace’s whole body stiffens and he stands up from the bed as if he’s trying to securely bodyguard me from across the room.

He gets it! Thank god I just didn’t know how to explain it. Thank god he understands.”I just wanted to save my brother, it was like I was back in that same moment three years ago. I- I’m going to go back to therapy,” I try to elaborate. Everything about Jace softens and he approaches me quickly but cautiously, gauging my reaction to his proximity. He takes me in his warm, strong arms, and everything in the world is fixed. I let out a few residual tears from the stress of tonight’s conversation. But I feel… whole again. He is rubbing my back and calming me and he smells like soap and I love this man. I could stay here forever. But he steps back and holds me away and studies me. “Clary, I owe you an apology.” he starts but instead of letting him continue I close the distance between us and kiss him. He pushes me away and tries again but I hold a finger up to his lips. “You don’t owe me anything! Ever. I’m still sorry for what I did. I put you in danger! And I should have explained.” “But!” he starts to say against my finger. “No! Jace. Thank you. Thank you for listening to me and understanding and still wanting to talk even when you were angry and for being… here” my voice cracks. “I’m so in love with you… and the same way we got through tonight is how we’re going to get through the rest of our lives.” His eyes light up as I say this and my heart does victory hurdles at the glorious sight. He kisses my hand, and up my arm, and my neck - which I giggle at -, finally across my jaw up to the corner of my mouth. “I am so completely addicted to you, Clary Fairchild-Wayland,” he says just before kissing my mouth. “Not quite yet mister!” I object and he smiles back at me. “Fine… Fairchild… for now,” he halfway concedes “but can we please never do that fighting thing again? I hated every second of not being able to think about how madly in love with you I am.” “Deal!” I grin back at him. Jace kisses me and I almost forget to come back up for air, he is so intoxicating. “Come to bed with me,” Jace whispers against my ear. And I am all too happy to oblige.

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the-irish-mayhem · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Fosterson Week Day 2: Outside POV! This fic stemmed from my love of fake academia, but also my absolute desire to never write an academic paper ever again. So I found a bit of a middle ground. Fair warning: Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this. But never fear, their life together was long and happy.

A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor.

Read on AO3.

Legacy.

Post Thread Created: 1/23/01 Originally Posted: 1/23/01 Post Edited: 10/30/04

Edit 10/30/04: WOW, I did not anticipate that this post series would blow up the way it did! Thank you to all who shared this and supported me in this journey, and if you’re wondering, yes, my book is now out! You can get your copy of The Dynasty That Never Was: A Biography at your local retailer, the Bionic Press cloudstore, or at your local library.

Just a little bit of context: this was very early in my thesis writing process, back when Jane and Thor were only planned to encompass a single chapter of my book (ha!) and I was planning on writing a straight cultural analysis rather than the cultural analysis-slash-biography it became.

Okay, now on with the original post!

Good morning, fellow New Asgard Anthropologists. For any newcomers, my name is (future Dr.) Melanie LaComb, and the purpose of this blog has been to share my research on a little more of a ground level, record my process of writing my thesis, and talk/write through some problems and put them up for community collaboration. It’s also nice to be able to shed the academic discourse for just a few minutes and write informally. So much freedom! So many exclamations and I statements! Anyway, I’m writing this new post to talk my way through a bit of a new thorn in my research. The late Thor Odinson and Jane Foster.

A lot of academics have kind of scoffed at this problem of mine—they were two extremely famous individuals! Integral to so many galactically significant events! Of course there is absolute mega loads of information on them! There must be dozens of biographies and at least two definitive autobiographies for beings of such impressive historical stature!

This may shock you, but NO there actually isn’t. Or, I suppose in some ways there is but not in the ways that would be most useful for me. For Odinson, who grew up on Old Asgard, the destruction of the planet meant the destruction of many records kept from his years before the Greatest War Against Thanos. His years afterwards are better trackable, but hardly centralized and hardly the more personalized records I am (now trying to get at. Foster, known on Midgard as Dr. Jane Foster and colloquially throughout the galaxy as “Jane the Thinker” or “Jane the Brilliant,” is surprisingly easier to get a handle on. Her fame wasn’t contingent upon her marital status, and she was well-known in scientific circles even before the first battle of the War in the year 2012.

So the root of my problem is this: fitting this pair into my New Asgard diaspora research. Because they are….. how do I say this…. not fitting? With my methodology? (I went to the school of redundancy school, but F*ck I’ve been writing and writing and writing for like 8 hours today already and I’m not changing it so THERE.)

So most of my research deals with the formation of a New Asgardian identity, and it relies heavily upon the shared cultural experiences of the Dark Elf Invasion of Old Asgard and the death of Queen Frigga (an aside, but one of my classmates, Korla Majer, wrote a really stellar article on why the Dark Elf invasion should be included as one of the major battles of the Greatest War, and how the dismissal of the event by most historians actively hurts our understanding of galactic politics at the time and I absolutely 10/10 would recommend you go read it after you finish this blog post) as well as the battle for and destruction of New Asgard. For beings so long lived as us, Asgardians have proven that we can make our memories as short as we need to, and those two events seemed to create the largest basis for the new cultural identity forged on Earth. (For some obvious reasons, namely being the events that led to the planet being destroyed and necessitating the move to Midgard, but ANYWAY.)

But I can’t really deny Jane and Thor’s place in the New Asgardian identity because their effect on the masses is well-documented. There are libraries full of memes, old paper magazines with paparazzi photos paired with barely-real stories that say a lot more about the readership than they do the subjects, even some old FanFiction that I was able to dig up that is in some ways more helpful than all the academia from that time period combined XD

In my roundabout way, the problem I’m trying to sort through is this: HOW do I tackle the Jane/Thor chapter?

Because in my original outlining of my thesis, I had planned on their chapter being a quick summation of how they met just before the Greatest War’s beginning, courted through the course of it, and married at its conclusion. Then, I’d give some context on their influence on galactic politics (because despite what some people erroneously think, they actually were not the monarchs of New Asgard. They remained advisors only after Thor abdicated the throne and named Brunnhilde [of house Dragonfang, an extremely old and well-respected Old Asgardian family] his successor. There was the five year gap of the Blip where Thor was officially King, but it was hardly a politically significant time as for much of this period Thor was gone from New Asgard), how some political maneuvers affected the general New Asgardian populace, and then move back to the cultural study portion of things. But the more sources I gather about them, the more I think this chapter might need to be extended, or made into some… sub point of my main thesis.

Because while I said earlier that information on them is hard to find (because it is!!! You try making document requests to 17 different universities on 15 different planets!!!! Alfheim literally delivered what I asked for in a light spectrum file format!!!!!!!! Like WHAT!!!!!! AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS????? HOW DO I CONVERT THIS INTO A PDF OR EVEN JUST MAKE IT COMPATIBLE WITH HOLOREADERS) it’s not always the quantity that’s the issue, it’s the content. I found myself longing to know more about who these people were and why they did the things they did. I’ve always found that I've done my best research when I follow my gut feelings, and research things that I’m passionate about. New Asgardian diaspora culture? I’m living it, baby! I’m very interested because my generation is the first generation to have never set foot on Asgard, and that’s something worth exploring!

And now here I am weirdly fascinated by an almost-king whose magical powers are pretty legendary who was banished and fell in love with a woman (who was 100% human at the time, by the way) whose scientific theories were so advanced that her own people thought she was a bit of a kook until all of her theories started getting proven right. From a non-academic perspective, that sounds like a freaking romance novel or epic movie or something. (Which, by the way, it was! There were at least 6 separate pieces of media [film, novel, television show] that were based on their story that I can find on record.) So on a personal level, here I am wondering why two people in the past got married in spite of wildly different life circumstances/why one of them abdicated a throne that was his birthright, and on an academic level A) trying to figure out how to fit this weird fascination into my thesis B) how did these two political and cultural figures shape the cultural landscape C) was their effect on the cultural landscape more or less significant than the two events which have been taking the most of my focus for the last year? D) how productive is it to even ask the question of more or less significance?

*screaming*

A few people have asked me if I should just switch my track to talk about how they affected Brunnhilde’s rule over New Asgard (which, in case you missed previous posts, Brunnhilde is a huge part of my current thesis as she essentially presided over what I’m terming “The New Asgardian Cultural Renaissance” and was absolutely critical to how things were shaped.) I’m hesitant to do this because this has actually already been done. I’ll stick JSTOR links in the endnotes, but Dr. Hamel Radley literally wrote this. “A King For the Ages: Brunnhilde’s First Three Decades.” Also, Dr. Leslie Storn’s “A King’s Court: Brunnhilde’s Advisory Council.” AND Dr. Jorseph Naulty’s “King Brunnhilde’s Surprising Advisory Council: Steady Hands, Scientists, Military Minds, and Galactic Politicking.” Look, there’s a LOT on Brunnhilde’s rule, and a LOT written on her advisory council. She was the ruling monarch, so it’s pretty par for the course.

But for how politically and culturally significant they seemed to be, there’s not really much specifically on Jane and Thor. Their cultural influences are given lip-service, and that’s it. (Again, Jane has been scientifically significant in a way no one has achieved since Albert Einstein, so in that way she’s more famous than her husband, but scientific notoriety isn’t the same as recognizing the fullness of her cultural contributions.)

I brought this stuff up to my advisor, and she said to keep pulling this thread because I’m on to something here, I just need to figure out what.

So my next research goal is to reach out to their descendents. They have a few children and grandchildren living, and hopefully at least one of them is willing to speak to me about them as people so I can get that portion of things nailed down before I go insane.

My almost-insanity probably bled into this post a little bit because it’s redundant as heck and you can bet your bum I am not spell-checking or proofreading. I need a break from that garbage. The life of a doctoral student continues.

Here’s to pulling the thread. Hopefully something useful unravels.

-(Future Dr.) Melanie LaComb

Reply posted by: Winsome34, 1/23/01 08:23

Melanie--this is a super interesting track, and your advisor was absolutely right when they said to follow it. I think it would be really interesting to read a sort of half-biography, half-cultural analysis piece. Would be really unique, and I’m sure any doctoral committee would find it an engaging topic.

Not sure if you’ve tried the Avengers Museum and Historical Library yet, but that might be a good place to go for some more primary sources, since Thor was a founding member and Jane was closely tied to them throughout their life. They have a really solid amazing librarians there who know the stacks backwards and forwards. I relied heavily on them when I was researching my last paper about racism against superheroes of color in the early 21st century.

Reply posted by: KorlaMajer, 1/23/01 10:22

Thanks for the shoutout boo ;) Your thesis is gonna be amazing!

ALSO: I have a light spectrum file converter from my dad. He does a ton of business with Alfheim and they are NOTORIOUS for sending incompatible LSFs.

Reply posted by: Chloe Durbin, 2/2/01 20:40

Hey! My mom is actually really tight with Thor and Jane’s oldest daughter Valkyrie. I think they knew each other from school or something back in the day, but she’s really awesome and basically my aunt, so if you need an intro or a number to call, I’ve got you! Just shoot me an email [email protected]. She’s really approachable if you don’t mind walking up to a lady who is literally 6’8” and looks like she literally HAS killed a man with her bare hands. But super nice though!

Universal Reply posted by: Blogmaster, 5/3/01 06:27

Thank you everyone for the tips! It’s going to help so much! The Avengers Library has actually been majorly helpful (I never even thought to look there, honestly!) and Valkyrie has agreed to sit down to an interview (of sorts) so everything is seriously looking up. And THE LSF CONVERTER WORKED LIKE A CHARM.

#fostersonweek #fostersonweek2019 #fosterson week #2019 day 2 #fic

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voidendron · 6 years ago

Text

The Outside: Chapter 61

Series Ask Blog: @asktheoutside

Chapter 61: Fan Favorite Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Minor Injury (bruising, sprains, dislocated fingers) Characters: Dr. Schneeplestein, Natemare POV: Dr. Schneeplestein

April 10, 2031, 4:00 PM Los Angeles, California

Fingers combing through grayed hair, then a huff. A shake of the head and one hand playing with a spool of thread. Two weeks. It had been over two weeks ago. Marvin was alive. But what if he hadn’t survived? What if…

No. Don’t think that way. He’d survived.

Schneep ran a hand across his face and grit his teeth together. His card. Why had he given it to Mad? He couldn’t…remember, now. The details were there, but just out of his reach. Fuzzy, if he tried to grab for them. Like an apparition in his peripherals as it wisped away when he turned to look.

Setting the thread neatly in the wall-mounted cabinet, just above eye level, his mouth twisted as he closed the door. He tipped his head slightly. Studied his own face in the mirror on that door. He brought a hand up to brush at the healing wound in his cheek. It had started scarring over, but he still winced at the contact. It felt like it was bruised. Was Natemare sure he’s gotten all the chips out of it? Hopefully. Schneep really didn’t feel like dealing with an infection…

He glared at his reflection, and it glared right back; studied his eyes just as he studied its.

He pursed his lips when his gaze fell on his false eye. It was too bright now. Too much like Seán’s. The other was darker than it had been. Not by much, but darker nonetheless. The difference was small but still too noticeable for his liking. If someone was to stop and stare long enough, they’d be able to tell. He was doubtful that Natemare and Devilplier, at the very least, hadn’t noticed the difference. Whether they thought it was heterochromia or realized it was a prosthetic, at least they didn’t stare or question his ability to do his job.

A sharp buzz on the counter next to him made him jump. He’d gone without a cellphone for so long that he’d forgotten it was there. It was used, not the best one out there by any means, but at least the other garage members could easily get in touch with him, now. The messages were from Natemare. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He…honestly wanted to say he considered the Sharp a…friend? Maybe? They were snarky with one another, but it was kind of endearing, in a way. Mare made him feel like he belonged somewhere.

Natemare: Could use you at Garage C. Idiot over here broke his hand

Natemare: …I think?

…You ‘think’? he replied

Natemare: Hey, I’m no doctor!

Schneep groaned at that.

You acted as doctor before I came here! How do you not know?

Natemare: …Cuz I wasn’t a doctor?

You are hopeless.

Natemare: Screw off.

Natemare: I’ll be there in a sec to bring you here.

Pocketing the phone with a roll of the eyes, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. If Natemare was going to be there, he wouldn’t bother throwing together medical supplies. He’d just have the Sharp magic them up.

Schneep straightened just as Natemare appeared in the room. Just as quickly as the Sharp had come, both of them were gone from the little clinic. The doctor stumbled when his feet hit solid ground again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to teleporting. He didn’t hate it, but it certainly wasn’t his favorite method of travel, either.

The Sharp led him to a bench at the garage’s…was it west? wall. Just by looking at the guy, Schneep was almost positive he was one of the garages’ mechanics: Oil-stained coveralls, calloused hands, and grease smudging his skin. He’d probably been working under one of the vans. The doctor had noticed weeks ago that they liked to leak.

A shake of the head, and Schneep seated himself on the bench next to the man. Human? Ego? Some other Figment? He didn’t know. Oddly enough, he was finding that he cared less and less. The garages were a strange combination, and the humans to work in them knew about the Egos.

Maybe that’s why the look the mechanic was giving him as he grabbed the man’s injured hand was putting him on edge.

“Is there something you want?” he finally asked as he cupped the hand between his to See the damage.

At that, the man startled. “Sorry. Sorry. Just uh… Would I know you? You’re an Ego, right?”

“Yes?”

The mechanic went silent for a bit after Natemare snorted. Schneep had to wonder why the Sharp found this so amusing. At least the hand wasn’t broken. Two dislocated fingers, the hand swollen and sprained, with some pretty nasty bruising, but no fractures.

Turning to face Mare, he asked, “You know what a wrist splint is, yes? I will need one. As for you, what the hell did you do?”

More laughter, from Natemare nonetheless as the doctor gestured for the clean rag near the mechanic. The damn things were scattered everywhere.

“Not my fault…” the man mumbled. “Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbass over there slammed my hand in a fuckin’ van door.”

When Schneep’s eyes landed on the duo in question, they scrambled out of his sight. No wonder Dev needed a competent doctor. He was surrounded by idiots.

“Bite down on this.” As soon as the rag was in his hands, he was shoving it back at the mechanic.

“Wh—no! Why?”

“What are you doing now?” Natemare had the wrist brace grasped loosely between two fingers as he leaned back on the wall next to the bench.

“You have dislocated fingers. I need to reset them, yes?”

“B-but shouldn’t you use like…anesthetic or something?!”

All Schneep could offer was a slow blink. “…I have never in my life used anesthesia.”

The mechanic’s face paled. “Y—” He brought one finger up in a “one moment” gesture. Schneep couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. “You…are a real doctor. Licensed and shit? …Right?”

“I will have you know I am 100% Real Doctor! I—”

“Wait. Wait. Dr. Schneeplestein? No fuckin’ way!”

“I—yes?” It had…been a while, since he’d heard his last name. His real one. Not his alias.

“Shit…I loved that community, and—and you’re right here! I’m talking to you!” The mechanic was grinning wide. So excited. “You were my favorite!”

Schneep grimaced at that. A…fan. He’d never really considered the fact that he might meet a former fan who would recognize him. How… What was he supposed to think of that? He should be happy. Right in front of him was a fan who had admitted that Schneep was his favorite! Wasn’t that wonderful? Wasn’t it?

He couldn’t bring himself to smile back. His mouth twisted, as if in distaste. Maybe it was distaste.

“I want nothing to do with the fans,” he said at last. It was…colder than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty when the man looked taken aback. “I am your doctor. That is all.”

When he glanced at Natemare from the corner of his eye, the Sharp didn’t seem phased in the slightest. It was common to feel as he did. Right? He was sure that it was. Bitterness toward the fans; Schneep felt it! He knew at least some of the Septics and Ipliers did, too. Did the Sharp? Mad? Devilplier?

A shake of the head. It didn’t matter. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

He couldn’t look the mechanic in the eyes anymore. All he could do was shove the rag back at him and, yet again, demand that he bite down on it. The mechanic made it harder than it needed to be when he kept jerking his hand away. Made it take longer than it should have. Schneep would be lying if he said his nerves weren’t wearing thin. Humans really were weak. Even Kyler would have bit his tongue and bore it as tears pricked his eyes. And he was just a child! Did Figments really have that much higher of a pain tolerance?

Finally, finally, the mechanic was sent on his way with instructions on how to care for the sprain over the next few weeks written clearly on a piece of paper, along with commands to revisit with Schneep.

“…Jeez.” Natemare had a brow arched as he watched the human stalk off. “You’ve seriously never used anesthetic? That’s not very reassuring.”

Schneep just waved him off. “I have no need for it. I have ability to knock my patients out with a little touch of my hand to the head. Why would I bother with anesthesia?”

“Huh. And what if your hands were injured or somethin’?”

“…I—I probably would not be doing a procedure if that was the case anyway? Besides. The abilities are held in the aura, not the physical form.”

Brushing himself off as he stood, the doctor gestured for Mare to lead the way. Schneep’s eyes roved about. This may have been the first time he’d been in Garage C. It was so much smaller than A! Not nearly as many people bustling about, and there wasn’t even a higher platform. It was all one level in C; two small vans (much smaller than Box) and a few motorcycles in varying states of disassembly. Honestly, Schneep doubted there were even a dozen people in there. He had to wonder if it was mostly a scrap garage.

“Ready?” the Sharp asked as he pushed himself away from the wall to stand at Schneep’s side.

One more once-over. Gaze drifting over the pair to injure the mechanic’s hand, then a man and woman throwing pallets into a corner. The woman had coveralls and boots on, while the man wore dress shoes and an almost dressy top if not for the fact it was mostly unbuttoned to reveal the tank top underneath. A cowboy hat pinned his long hair down, and he kept grumbling to himself.

…His hat was familiar. And the shoes, and the sunglasses perched low on his nose so he could peer over them.

That… Was that Edgar?

When Natemare noticed where his gaze had drifted, he just nudged the doctor. “Know him?” Schneep offered a little nod. “Guy’s more trouble than he’s worth, honestly. Jackass.”

“…Why is he here?”

“Dunno. I didn’t hire him.” Another nudge, “C’mon,” and they were back in Schneep’s clinic in moments. The doctor grabbed the edge of the surgical table to keep his balance and could only offer a glare at the Sharp.

“Warn me,” he grumbled.

A wide grin met him at that. “I did say ‘c’mon,’ didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, fuck you, too.”

“Grow up.” Natemare offered a firm pat on the back before he turned toward the door. “You know. You don’t seem all that phased by Edgar working here?”

“I have never been fond of him,” Schneep admitted. He glared when he noticed a smudge in his glasses, right in the corner of the lens. “I am more than happy if our paths do not cross often.”

“Even if he could get you in contact with those friends of yours?”

“I…” What if..? No. “Edgar did not like the others. I doubt he has contact with any of them. Even if he did…I have a place here, yes?” He searched the Sharp’s eyes hopefully; relaxed when Mare shrugged and nodded. They wanted him there. He had a place there. He…wasn’t sure he could bare to see Marvin or Jackie or their creator face-to-face anyway. Not after Marv… God.

“I am happy here.”

#fanfic #jacksepticeye #writersofjack #dr. schneeplestein #natemare #ed edgar #the outside #au #chapter 61 #swearing /#minor injury /

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iamrheaspeaks · 6 years ago

Text

High Heels Pt.2

Erik x OC! (Thea)

Bold Italics: Inner Dialogue

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warning: Angst

A/N: Okay loves, this picks up where the time jump left off in Part 1. Hopefully you guys don’t hate me too much after this chapter. As always lightly proofread/ edited. Enjoy 💋

Part 3

~~~

Previously: Erik’s eyes glued to the condensation rolling off an untouched water glass on the table as he tried to contain his own tears. “I love you Thea”.

~~~

Thea’s POV:

When Thea exited the restaurant she was met with an angry Shay, quietly chastising someone on the phone about fucking something up and a brooding Malachi. “I’m sorry you two. My assistant double booked me and I have to be clear across town in–” Shay paused looking down at her watch before gritting through her teeth with a forced smile, “35 minutes”.

“Don’t stress. I should rest a little anyway”, Thea assured her.

Shay just shook her head as she hugged them both before adding, “I’ll stop by the hotel a little later. Again, I’m really sorry” Shay pouted.

“Girl if you don’t stop! This was a pop up visit anyway, do what you gotta do.”

Malachi interjected, “Speaking of pop ups, we gonna discuss the one you just had?”

Anyone who cared to be looking on would’ve been none the wiser meanwhile Shay didn’t have to hear anything else to know where this was headed. Instantly catching the hint of jealousy in Malachi’s voice she was suddenly thankful for her assistant’s fuck up. Shay, briefly pulling Thea into another hug whispers “Looks like we both got some shit to handle”.

Not wanting to take the chance this conversation was going exactly how she expected Thea got Malachi to hold off until they got back to the privacy of their hotel room. The silence of the short car ride was much appreciated so she could collect her thoughts about literally everything that just transpired. Malachi had never formally met, spoken or seen Erik before today but everything about their brief encounter had his head running a mile a minute. “Did this nigga real just–? And what was with that greeting? Does she still love him? Princess? She practically begged me to leave.” Normally Thea would be the one to try and coax him out of his thoughts but she was stuck in the same predicament. Completely wrapped up in her own thoughts, feelings stirring up bits and pieces off the floor of her mind like dust in a breeze. “Why do I feel so anxious? I don’t even understand where all this jealousy is coming from. You did kinda dismiss him for ‘That Ex’. I mean? Did I? Damn! I guess I kinda did…”

Back in the room they continued to just exist in each other’s space not talking. The turbulence inside Thea’s head dissipated immediately when Malachi’s voice sliced through the deafening silence of the room. He inhaled deeply as he turned his body to the side cocking a leg further up on the mattress as he faced her. That one simple combination of actions let Thea know that this was going to go one of two ways. Either it would start heated with every word exchanged after adding oxygen, fuel, and wood to the fire or they’d hash it all out ‘Honesty Hour’ style. No questions to go unanswered and them slowly regressing out of anger having gotten shit out on the table. She was really hoping for the latter, if not for hers than the baby’s sake.

“So. What was so private that you couldn’t talk about it in front of Shay and I?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already expressed. I told you if I got the chance I wanted to apologize to Erik. How was I supposed to know it’d actually happen on this trip?”

“Then you should’ve been able to say it in front of everyone.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Thea snapped. “That’s not how you apologize for something like that.”

“The apology means the same no matter whose there.” Malachi deadpanned.

Thea sat up as straight as she could making the heel of her palms dig into her thighs just above the knee. Tapping her foot on the floor before standing up. Thea marveled “You’re really mad at me because I wanted to apologize in my own way?”

“Your way” Malachi parroted making quote marks in the air with his fingers like a child, “makes no sense.”

Looking down to her belly starting to block the view of her feet now, Thea screwed her eyes shut and filled her lungs before clapping her hands together in front of her repeatedly as she spoke. “If you weren’t there when I broke up with him then WHY THE FUCK would I want you there when I apologized?! Like do you fucking hear yourself right now?”

Malachi’s next words made Thea’s ears burn and anger peak to dangerous levels, “Could’ve just said your peace as a response to one of the many messages he was sending you.”

Erik was persistent as hell in the beginning right after the breakup. It was like non-stop one-way communication. Though it was normally limited to Instagram messages and random texts with nothing but song titles accompanied by the artist name. “Wait?” Thea mulled over the irony of what’s unfolding. “You went through my messages?”

“Yeah I did! How else was I gonna know, well anything. You never talk about any of it. I know you, you cant just cut people off like you think you can.”

“I never answered any of the messages. Not once! They just stopped! What more do you need?” Malachi’s surfacing trust issues were pissing off Thea more than anything else.

“Tell me you don’t love him!” Malachi demanded.

Erik’s POV:

Once he felt her presence slink away from him Erik lightly shook his head before gathering himself and walking over to his own table. He sat there drumming his fingertips against the edge of the empty table as he watched Shay hug Thea and Malachi. Stepping out of the hug the two women exchange a few more words before attention turned to the man among them. From this angle Erik could see Thea rapidly tapping her thumb and ring fingers together behind her back. It was a tick she had from when she was little, it helped her relax and calm her thoughts. Kind of having the same effect as popping a rubber band on your wrist. As the thought hit Erik to get up and check if she was all right the men he was meeting with arrived. After greeting them Erik turned back towards the entrance to catch another glimpse, but they were gone.

Throughout the entire meeting it was clear Erik wasn’t fully present. Barely eating any of his food as he picked through it. Everything about seeing Thea was throwing him off. She became very private on social media really only posting plates of food, work memes and the occasional selfie. Never showing anything below the small arrow pendant she wore around her neck. Thea’s nuptials to Malachi were common knowledge thanks to mutual friends but seeing her pregnant had him lost for words. Erik knew he should be happy for her but above all else he was hurt it wasn’t him Thea was with. His baby she was carrying. More so, Erik was mad at himself because he knew it was ultimately his fault.

The sudden buzzing from his phone in his pants pocket cemented Erik back into his surroundings. He was about to ignore it until it buzzed again and again and again. Having gained interest in what the notifications could be Erik excused himself from the table. Coming to sit down on a bench by the bathrooms Erik opened his phone to a series of texts from a number he didn’t have saved. It was the address to a hotel just outside of town followed by a series of messages.

–Thea won’t calm down enough to let me in or tell me what happened and Malachi stormed off.

–Come fix this shit Erik.

–NOW!

Earlier consumed by the thought of being face to face with Thea again meant that Erik never took into account that the dynamics of her relationship with Malachi was different than theirs had been. He never realized the ripple effect that that would set into motion. Erik shot back two words before getting up from where he was seated to make his way to the hotel.

–Say less

Back at the Hotel:

Thea is sitting on the floor of the bathroom in her suite with her back against the locked door. Shay eventually came to her senses and stopped banging on the door demanding entry. Wanting to give Shay some form of communication Thea started patting her lap and the floor around her before realizing she didn’t have her phone. But still not quit ready to be in anyone else’s presence Thea just sat there rubbing her belly with one hand trying to coax her little one to move. At the same time repeatedly stroking the arrow pendent she never took off. Letting her mind wander to how she acquired it. When they were together she’d seen some stupid text post about the symbolism between arrows and the difficulties of life. Thea lowly chuckled to herself as she remembered annoying the fuck out of Erik with that damn quote. Every time he complained about something backfiring Thea would bring it up. So Erik thought it be a cute idea to materialize it for her. An arrow can only be shot forward by being pulled back.

Meanwhile, Shay frustrated with the negative turn this day had taken has been pacing the hallway waiting for either Malachi to come back or Erik to show up, hoping both actions didn’t collide. Secretly Shay knew which would win if they showed up at the same time. Shay’s phone buzzed again in her hand providing her answer.

–Room number

–1302

Finally catching sight of Erik down the hall a few minutes later, “Bout damn time!” Shay proclaimed throwing her hands up.

“Hello to you too Shay. Again. What’s––”

Cutting Erik off, “All I know is when I got here from my double booking I could hear them arguing from the lobby. I got to the door right as Malachi swung it open and stormed out. She’s been locked up in the bathroom ever since.”

“She won’t come out for you?” Erik half chuckled remembering a time when the shoe was on the other foot.

“You think I woulda text you if she did?” Shay sneered with hand on hip. “Her pregnancy is high risk Erik, she can’t be under this kinda stress.” Erik stared blankly at Shay before looking back at the bathroom door. Her admission hurt as much to hear as he imagined it was for her to say. Erik rapped the knuckle of his middle finger against the door to gain Thea’s attention.

Thea’s POV:

It wasn’t until Thea heard his voice that she slid back from the door a little unlocking it. Cracking the door open and sticking her hand out for him to take as he walked in before shutting it again. “Hello princess” Erik echoed his greeting from earlier sitting down in the darkness beside Thea. She let out a shaky breath as she changed positions putting her head in his lap, his fingers gliding up and down the base of her skull as a means of comfort. Her playful curls swallowing his fingers in nostalgia while effectively calming Thea back to a steady heartbeat.

Thea audibly chuckled, “Muscle memory.”

“What bout it?”

Thea cupped Erik’s hand with her own, “Its why you couldn’t help but rub the back of your head when you seen me today.”

Erik just hummed in response and Thea wasn’t sure if he was feigning ignorance or truly hadn’t put the two together. “It’s the last place I touched you before today. The body’s way of consolidating a task that’s repeated over time. Normally in reference to completing an action but I think it works it this case too.” Thea paused to smile to herself, taking her attention from Erik to the baby as it started to move further calming her nerves. She hadn’t felt any movement since returning to the hotel.

“Thea what happened?” Erik pondered.

“Does it matter?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

Erik’s response was halted by the sound of someone banging loudly on the door. Thea could hear Malachi screaming as he pounded on it. Thea groaned as she finally went to stand and mentally prepare to leave the security of the bathroom and its peaceful darkness. Not liking the vibe that Malachi was giving off and wanting to help maintain Thea’s calm state Erik hopped up after her. Gently squeezing her shoulders before dropping his hands as she opened the door. The way Malachi’s face distorted at the sight of Erik made him look beastly.

“What the fuck he doing here?”

“Cleaning up your mess!” Erik countered using his body as a barrier so Thea could fully exit the bathroom.

“Fuck you nigga!” Malachi whined shoving Erik while his back was turned. Being caught off guard his body careened forward into Thea before Erik could slam his palm against the wall and catch his footing.

Once he found his feet Erik whipped around facing Malachi. “Yo! The fuck is wrong wit you?”

Thea stumbled away from the wall arms out to aid in regaining her balance from Erik crashing into and pinning her against the wall. Sucking the air back into her lungs so hard and fast it burned. Looking down her eyes dilating as her hands flew to her stomach letting out a blood-curdling scream. Whispering no over and over again as tears began to burn her eyes sending blazing trails down her cheeks. At the sound of her scream Erik quickly turned back to once over Thea but Shay was already standing in front of her. So hyper focused on Malachi he never seen Shay move around them. Her keen eye having zeroed in on the growing red spot on the cream colored carpet before her ears even registered Thea’s screaming. Shay looked beyond her friend’s trembling frame to the two men behind her. They all just stood there frozen in horror for a few moments, none of them knowing what to say. Until just like at the restaurant Shay was the first to find her voice. Stroking Thea’s arms she uttered, “I–I think it’ll be best if the two of you leave.”

Shay’s voice propelled Thea out of the daze she was stick in and something snapped within her. Thea’s bloody hand flew back gripping his wrist tight before she verbally objected Shay’s demands. Voice still hoarse from screaming, “Erik, stay.” She didn’t have to be facing him to know that Malachi was going to attempt to challenge her request. Thea raised her other hand to silence him before finally turning around. Erik and Malachi alike display a look of horror as both of them register the magnitude of the situation. Thea knew that the only thing keeping Erik and Shay from reacting was her seemingly fragile state. Her breathing mirroring Shay’s and her tiny fingers keeping their death grip on Erik’s wrist. The messy bun atop her head disheveled leaving stray pieces of hair to hang in her face. Eyes red and puffy from crying. Snapping her fingers Thea drew their attention away from the blood soaked fabric that used to be her dress. Its white hue rapidly widening into a now crimson red. Thea locked eyes with Malachi before stammering, “I–I promise you. There is no-nothing. Not one thing you could possibly say right now to f–fix this.”

“Thea I–“ Malachi started.

Turning her back to him again, “Just leave” Thea whispered.

Tags: @savagesensitivity @cancerianprincess @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat @muse-of-mbaku @chaneajoyyy @itsangeludaku @eriknutinthispoosy @im5ftbutmythroat66 @theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22 @fonville-designs @wawakanda-btch

#rheaspeaks #high heels #rheaspeaks masterlist

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