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ursuburbanmother · 1 month

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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!

Word count: 5k.

Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17, 1970. Still.

Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.

As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.

“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.

“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”

“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”

“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.

To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”

Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”

“Female student? What do you mean?”

“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”

“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.

He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”

“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”

“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”

“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”

Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”

Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”

Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”

“You want some of that? All right.”

“Thank you.”

“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.

“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.

…

“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.

“Why? Do I smell or something?”

“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”

Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”

Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.

You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.

“What's wrong?” You ask.

“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.

You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”

“What photo?”

“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”

“I resent that baseless accusation.”

“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.

“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.

“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.

Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”

“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”

“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”

“Hey, take it easy, guys.”

You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”

Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.

You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”

He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.

He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.

“What is going on here?”

“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”

“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.

“What about?”

“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.

“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”

“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”

“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.

“They’re so good.”

“I listen to them all the time.”

Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”

You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”

…

After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.

Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.

“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.

You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.

“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.

“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.

“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”

The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.

“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.

Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.

You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.

Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”

The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”

“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”

…

You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.

“You look very dapper,” You smirk.

“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”

“Probably. I don’t blame him.”

“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”

“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”

You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”

“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”

“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.

You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”

You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.

“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”

“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”

You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”

“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”

“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”

Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.

…

December 20, 1970

The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.

“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”

In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.

When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.

During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.

Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.

“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”

“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.

“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”

“A what?”

“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”

“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.

“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.

“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.

“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.

Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.

“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.

“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”

“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.

Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.

“Did your mother make you that?”

He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”

You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.

…

Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.

“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”

“No? Are you making that for the kid?”

“Yeah, I feel bad.”

“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.

“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”

“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”

“No thanks.”

Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.

“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.

“Are you all right?” You ask.

“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.

“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”

“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”

“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.

You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.

“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.

“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”

“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.

“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”

Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look. …

December 22, 1970

Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.

Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”

“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.

From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.

“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”

You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.

“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”

“That would be proper protocol, yes.”

“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.

Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”

Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.

As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.

“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”

“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

“Excursion,” he repeats.

Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”

“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.

Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”

“Same to you.”

“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.

You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”

Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.

“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”

“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”

“Um-.”

“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”

“Angus no-,”

“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.

“No Angus. I don’t want to.”

“What, why?”

You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”

“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”

“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”

“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”

“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”

“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”

“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”

“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.

You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.

“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”

You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms. …

You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”

You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.

Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.

The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”

“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”

“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”

“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”

“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.

“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.

You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”

As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”

Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow. …

You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.

“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.

“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”

“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.

“Come on. Please?”

“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”

“Y/n,” he whines.

“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.

“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”

“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”

You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.

a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers

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fairlyang · 4 months

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Question 🕷️

asking miguel if you could have a dildo shaped like his dick

w/c: 764

pairing: bf!miguel dnf!reader

tags: 18+. teasing, fooling around, grinding.

You were catching your breath as you laid your head against Miguel's chest. You had just been going at it for two hours and after a good three orgasms each, both of you were spent.

This was the first time in two weeks that Miguel was able to play with you and you were growing tired of having to take care of your own needs. You always craved him and it was getting harder and harder not having him be with you so often anymore.

And you had a brilliant idea a few days ago that you were shocked didn't come across your mind before.

"Are you awake love?" You whisper quietly trying not to move and only hear him give you a quiet hum.

"Mig I have a question..." you whisper and he softly hums.

"I was thinking with so much time apart lately..." you tilt your head up to look at him, with his eyes already closed, "what would you say if we get one of those kits to make a dildo shaped like your dick?"

His eyes immediately shoot open and he bursts out laughing, "w-what-"

"It's not that crazy!! I just get lonely and you're always going to be busy! and it's not like I asked you for permission to open our relationship-"

He stops laughing and gives you a stern look making you bite your lip to stop talking. "I just want a dildo that's the exact replica of my boyfriend's dick!" You whine and playfully shake his shoulders.

He chuckles and brings a hand down to your cheek, lightly caressing the skin and shrugs. "Maybe... how badly do you want it?" He teases and you grin.

"So badly." You say and give him a pout.

"It'll help me memorize every inch..." you whisper and lean down to kiss his chest.

"It'll let me practice being able to take you in my throat..." you murmur against his skin and slowly kiss your way up to his collarbone.

"I can practice how to ride you better..." you whisper and start kissing up his neck slowly.

You shifted up and properly sit on his lap while you sucked marks onto his skin since the others were already fading. And he needed a reminder that he was yours just as much as you were his.

You pulled away from his neck and moved up to his face. Kissing his cheek then kissing the edges of his lips. You then slightly pulled back and leaned in, your forehead against his, "All so I can be such a good girl for you the next time we get a moment like this.."

He moans and you start grinding against him, well his already hard cock. "And wouldn't you just love to see me use it?" You ask making him bite his lip and take a deep breath in.

"Maybe I could record some videos for you... send them when you have your lunch break..." you say sweetly and he breathes out, you could feel his hands snake down to your hips wanting you to move.

"Or when you least expect it." You murmur and he lets out a groan.

You move your hips a bit faster now feeling yourself growing more and more wet, you really should've thought of this ages ago....

"So what do you think baby?" You ask and bring your hands down to his chest, tracing random scribbles on his skin.

"I- I think you got me on board baby girl." He breathes out making you squeal.

He shakes his head and smiles, he really would do anything to make you happy.

"But first..." he whispers and quickly flips you over so you were now underneath him.

"I think we have some business to attend to.." he whispers and leans down to your neck, immediately sucking to give you a matching mark.

"Sounds good to me." You sigh and snake your fingers into his hair.

"We'll order the kit tomorrow morning." He murmurs and you feel his hand trail down your stomach.

"O-okay-" you stutter and nod vigorously.

"Gonna be my perfect girl after all the practice you're gonna put in aren't you baby?" He teases and you moan, spreading your legs as you felt his hand slowly make its way down.

"So now I have a question for you doll..." he murmurs and you hum, feeling your eyes fluttering.

"Does that mean we should also get those kits for fleshlights?" He asks and you felt immediate butterflies all over your skin as your cheeks turned a very bright red.

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n

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blue-aconite · 11 months

Text

two for one || j.h.s

Summary: A visit to the local shelter brings not one, but two surprises.

Warnings: No use of y/n, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Authors Note: Based on these pictures. I saw them and couldn’t get it out of my head. Thanks to my lovely betas @wkndwlff & @ryebecca, you’re the best!

When your boss told you to take Tuesday off, you wasted no time in signing off and putting your work phone on ‘do not disturb.’ You had been logging a lot of overtime lately, brokering a deal with a new business partner and overlooking the expansion of the Boston office. Luckily you could stay in San Diego working remotely with the team from Boston, letting you avoid the time consuming travel across the country.

You had washed three loads of laundry and cleaned out both the pantry and the fridge. After a quick stop at your favourite deli for lunch, you headed out to the grocery store. You opened up all the windows when you got home, putting away the groceries and then taking on the task of cleaning the condo. You had some time to kill before starting dinner, so you headed outside to relax on your hammock with a book.

You must have dozed off because the next thing you know, your boyfriend is shaking you awake. “What time is it?” you groaned, stretching your limbs.

“A little after three. Last class got cancelled, so I figured I’d head home early to surprise my girlfriend. Looks like you’ve been busy today.” You hummed as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, pulling you up from the hammock.

“I just wanted to get everything done so we could enjoy our weekend off together.”

Jake wrapped his arms around you, kissing the tip of your nose. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” You looked up at him, a playful smile on his face, eyes vibrant with joy.

“Remember how we talked about getting a dog?” Jake had a childlike excitement surrounding him, that cheeky grin you loved so much in place.

“Fanboy was showing me pictures of this shelter and I thought that we might go and take a look.”

You lit up, bouncing on your feet. “Really? Because I know you said you weren’t sure and -,” Jake cut you off, kissing you again.

“Yes sugar, I’m sure. The shelter closes at 6pm, so I figured we’d head there now and we can pick up dinner on our way home.” You were already heading towards his truck before he finished speaking. Jake followed behind, smiling at your childlike glee. “I just gotta change, baby. Then we can go.”

“Aw, baby look.” You gestured to the German Shepherd who was snoozing in the corner. Jake trailed behind you. The shelter was fairly empty, both with people and animals. Lisa, a volunteer, explained that they recently had a “family day” and a lot of the animals had been adopted.

“We’ve really seen an upswing in adoption recently, it’s honestly so great seeing these animals find their forever home.” Lisa spoke with Jake as you wandered around. An odd sight in the back captured your attention and you kneeled down to get a better look.

Your heart melted as you set your sights upon a tiny dog, all curled up into a ball. What melted it even further is the cat sleeping by its side. They looked so cute, all cuddled up with each other. The tag on the outside told you that their names were Ares and Apollo. You turned around to call on Jake, only for him to be right behind you.

“What’s this?” He asked as he kneeled down next to you. The dog blinked at the two of you sleepily before snuggling its face into the cat’s fur.

“Look at them baby, they’re so cute.” You gushed, wiggling in your excitement.

Lisa wandered over to the two of you. “Ah, you’ve found our little makeshift family. They were found together, abandoned in a box by the side of the highway. They’re most likely from the same home. We’ve estimated that they’re both around a year old. We tried to separate them at first, but they were both so unhappy that we just let them be together. It’s made adopting a bit more difficult. Not a lot of people want to take on the responsibility of both. But we’re adamant that they go together.”

Your mind is made up the moment she stops talking and you turn to Jake, pout in place, as you prepare to plead with him. He rolled his eyes at you. “We said one dog darlin’.”

“Yes, I know, but look at them! And they have to be together.” Jake raised an eyebrow, but you were determined. “And! When we’re not home, they won’t be lonely because they’ll have each other! I know we said a dog but I’ve always wanted a cat, too. Please, baby?”

Jake was quiet for a moment, watching the little animals sleep. The dog, Apollo, had a fair coat - white mixed with light brown. The cat, Ares, on the other hand, had pitch black fur.

“I guess we need to pick up a couple of cat things, too, then.” Jake said, and you squealed, throwing your arms around him.

You stayed with them as Jake talked to Lisa, getting everything in order for the adoption. The dog yawned as you tickled its belly, almost squishing the cat in the process as he chased your fingers. The cat was more apprehensive but after some ear scratches and treats, it let you pick it up.

Jake returned with a carrier in hand, letting the dog sniff him before picking him up. “Hey, buddy. You’re gonna come home with us, isn’t that great?”

You packed all the essentials into the truck before thanking Lisa and heading home.

Setting everything up was fairly simple. The litterbox went into the laundry room and Jake scattered various toys and a bed in a corner of the living room. You insisted on getting a water fountain and you set up their bowls in the kitchen. A second bed was placed at the foot of your bed.

After making a grand showing of the litter box for Ares, and telling them where to eat, you walked around with the little creatures, showing them their new home.

They both warmed up to their new surroundings quite quickly and before you know it, they’re both snoozing off between you and Jake on the couch as you watched the news.

“Baby?”

Jake hummed, absentmindedly scratching Ares behind his ears. Apollo is cuddled into your side, tongue sticking out.

“Thank you. I love you.”

Jake lifted his arm and you moved gently, as not to startle Apollo and cuddled into his side. “I love you, too. And to be honest, I don’t think I could have gone home without them. They’re perfect.”

“Hah, I knew it. You loved them as soon as you saw them, too, right?” Jake rolled his eyes, nudging your side.

“Yeah, I did. But one of us have to be responsible.” You giggled, lifting Ares so he could rest in your lap. An idea suddenly struck you and you squished your face against the side of Jake’s arm to stop the laughter.

Jake nudged you again. “What are you laughing about now?”

You snorted, trying to hide your amusement. “You’re totally gonna be one of those cat dads who said they didn’t want a cat but secretly loves it.”

He made a noise of protest but stopped as Ares abandoned you and crawled onto Jake’s lap. Apollo was snoozing between the two of you. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You smiled. “I won’t. Besides, it’s good training.”

“For what?” Jake murmured, tickling Apollo’s tummy.

You found yourself falling in love with him all over as you watched him fawn over the two of them. When you first met him, you had doubted that he would want something serious and settle down. Now, two years later, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Jake was everything you wanted and more. And as you watched him with the two newest additions to your future, you knew he would make a great dad one day. But for now, you would have to be parents to two little four legged babies and you couldn’t be more happy.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch @princessphilly @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster@notroosterbradshaw @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics @septemberrie @somenamewithepineapple @seresinsweetie @crescentwolf @seresinhangmanjake @sylviebell @waklman @roosterforme @rosiahills22 @dempy @i0veless @ilovewriting06 @kmc1989 @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun maverick fic #fe writes #jake hangman seresin

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wintaerbaer · 1 year

Text

things we don’t say: part 1 (kth)

banner credit goes to the absolutely incredible @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (they’re so, SO stupid), slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 8.4k

series warnings: swearing, sexual themes, one instance of mild violence, alcohol use, infidelity, brief mentions of neglectful parents and alcoholism

chapter warnings: potty mouths, oc teasingly threatens her friends, art world inaccuracies (probably, idk how art shows work), fns music festival dynamite performance taehyung (BLESSED), friends who can’t mind their own business, quick backstory on the aforementioned shitty parenting, oc needs (and has) a drink

a/n: so here is my first foray back into writing after being out of the game for several years! big shout outs to @itaeewon / @jeonqkooks for the banner and encouragement as well as @taegularities for giving me writing advice and letting me cry in her inbox every time i got frustrated with this. they’re also both INCREDIBLE writers so go show them some love once you’re done here!

SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

“She was checking you out.”

“She was not checking me out.”

“Kim Taehyung, she was so checking you out!”

“No.”

“She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave you the ‘come hither’ head tilt.”

Taehyung makes a face. “No one says that anymore, and that’s a perfectly normal gesture to make in everyday conversation.”

“When you want to get someone’s pants off.”

He shushes you, eyes flicking over to the nearby tables in the mostly-empty dining room with all of its dim lights and dark wood paneling. The bar had been a go-to for you and your friends in college, boasting a wide variety of burgers, sandwiches, and wraps that could even satisfy Jungkook and his bottomless appetite. Though your visits have become fewer and farther in between after graduation, nostalgia occasionally drags you back for a lunch or round of late-night drinks, which is how you’ve wound up here on a bright Saturday afternoon.

“You should ask for her number.”

“I am not asking her for her num—!”

“Can I get you anything?”

Taehyung’s face turns bright red as the waitress materializes at the side of your table as if on cue. It’s subtle, but she bats her eyelashes at him, body angled in his direction as if you’re not even there. You raise an eyebrow at him from across the table. See?

“I think we’re ready to order,” you say, mostly to put Taehyung out of his misery as he wordlessly stammers at the blonde.

You’d think he’s never seen a girl before in his life.

The waitress jots your orders down before strolling away in the direction of the kitchen, and you’d swear she’s swinging her hips a little more dramatically than before. You turn towards Taehyung.

“Told you.”

“I said no,” he says sheepishly, cheeks still brushed with pink. “Besides, she looks like she’s probably still in college.”

“You look like you’re probably still in college.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “And we’re not that old, Tae. You could date a college student.”

“Pass.”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. “Fine, but we still need to find you a date to the wedding. Can’t let those youthful good looks go to waste.”

Taehyung huffs in faux annoyance, but his lips quirk up at the compliment. “I’m not bringing a date.”

“So you say, but I’m going to change your mind.”

His smile widens. “Oh, really?”

“Really.” You hold out a pinky, and he only hesitates a moment before linking his with yours.

“Okay, we’ll see.”

You fall into one of your usual conversation patterns as you ask about how his job is going. He tells you about the upcoming art show at the gallery where he works as a curator, doing some freelance photography as a side gig. He’d managed to snag Maya, one of the aforementioned friends, a spot in it, and he smiles as he gushes over how great her pieces turned out, cheeks lightly flushed with what you interpret as pride. The two of them met freshman year as photography majors and quickly developed into friends and partners, challenging each other artistically and now occasionally teaming up to shoot larger weddings and events.

It makes pride warm your own belly, seeing him flourish and succeed in the field he had always dreamed of. Photography had been an outlet for him throughout high school, a vital reprieve from the insulated struggles of your shared childhood. Taehyung has never been a negative person, never weighed down in spite of the home life which would have given him every justifiable reason to become jaded. Still, you’d watched a new light bloom in him after he discovered photography as if the camera lens truly gave him a fresh way of seeing the world.

And you’ve always loved seeing happiness spill from your best friend.

Your food is just being brought to the table when Jimin comes shuffling up in a zombie-like trance, eyes wide and mouth slack.

"Finally made i—woah, are you alright?"

Jimin drops into a seat, glazed eyes fixated on the window overlooking the street.

"Maya and Kook are hooking up."

Taehyung chokes on his drink, water spraying onto his plate, while your jaw hits the floor.

"They're what?!"

"What the fuck?!"

Jimin works his jaw before wiping his hands over his face, "Yup."

You and Taehyung gape at him.

"What in the name of God would make you say that?" you ask emphatically, just as Taehyung says, "They hate each other."

"I don't know. Probably because I just caught her straddling him on our couch half-naked. But it’s just a feeling."

"Oh my God, we don't need to know that!"

"Our couch?!"

Jimin scrubs a hand over his face again as if he could wipe the image from his brain. “Yeah, I…can’t say I’m entirely surprised, but, Jesus, I did not need to see that with my own two eyes.”

“Okay, wait, wait,” you say, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear your thoughts. “You’re sure it was Maya—not another one of his random hook-ups?”

“You think I don’t know what she looks like?” Jimin asks, pulling a face. “Look, she stopped by to grab some camera equipment Tae left for her and said she was going to hang around for a minute to wait for an Uber. I was already late for here so I left, but I forgot my wallet. When I went back they were…compromised. And I didn’t exactly stick around to interrogate them.” He frowns again, turning to Taehyung. “Speaking of, can you cover me for lunch?”

“This is unreal. Fucking unreal,” you fume. “I’m going to kill them.”

“Is it really all that surprising?” Jimin asks. “Somewhere in all of their bickering and nagging and constant frowning at each other was always some thinly-veiled sexual tension.” When you glare at him, he adds, “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t sleep with her.”

“That’s not the problem, Chim. You know how this shit goes.” You rub a thumb between your eyes, trying to ease the sudden tension there. “They already fight all the time, and sex only ever complicates things. How long until this blows up and we’re forced to choose sides?”

And that’s the crux of your worry—a disaster seems inevitable. Maya and Jungkook have always been clear about their bare tolerance of each other, seeing it as a necessary evil for the benefit of the rest of your friendships. And while their arguments and bickering have been relatively muted in recent years after you, Taehyung, and Jimin had put down a collective foot and told them you were tired of hearing their shit, you are not eager to see them test the fragile thread that links all of you.

You’ve dealt with enough instability regarding the people in your life; the last thing you need is more.

The waitress comes up to take Jimin’s order while Taehyung studies you as you press the heels of your palms to your eyes.

“Hey,” he says as the waitress walks off again, a hand sliding across the table in your direction but not quite making it there. “No one is getting divorced or anything. Just talk to Maya first. We really don’t even know what’s going on here.”

Jimin lets out a puff of air. “I do. He had his hand up her—” He shuts his mouth as both you and Taehyung shoot daggers at him.

After a moment, your fingers tap absent-mindedly over your phone. “Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to her tonight. We’re supposed to go dress shopping for the art show.”

“Gotta get something nice for Jace?” Jimin asks, wiggling an eyebrow. You smirk back at him.

“No, he can’t make it. Work has him putting in overtime like crazy for their annual convention in a few weeks.”

“How is he doing—Jace?” Taehyung asks. His tone is light, but as Jimin turns to look at him, he notices his hand on the table had closed into a fist.

“He’s good,” you say, the tension finally melting out of your face as your eyes light up. “He’s been incredibly upbeat lately, actually—more romantic even.” There’s a pause as you hesitate. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was going to…you know.” You wave faintly with your left hand.

Jimin’s eyes go wide. “You think he’s planning to pro—” You quickly press a finger over your lips, and Jimin slaps a hand to his thigh. “Fuck yes! About damn time. Hey,” he settles his face in his palm and stares off dreamily. “Can I be your maid of honor?” Then, when you giggle, “Don’t laugh. I would look great in a dress.”

“I’ll put you on the short list,” you say, turning towards your food as Jimin pumps a fist. “But no more talk about that. I’ve waited damn long enough and do not want to jinx it.”

Taehyung’s knuckles had gone white.

“It’s really none of your business,” Maya says, picking up a bright purple, thigh-length dress off the rack and holding it up to her shoulders. “How about this one?”

“Too short.” She puts it back. “And I beg to differ. When something stands to get between two of my best friends who I care about deeply, I think that makes it my business.” When Maya doesn’t say anything, still nonchalantly flipping through dresses, you press on. “You know this can’t end well, right? You’re adding sex to an already volatile relationship, and I don’t like the idea of the friend group having to split if and when the two of you implode.”

“First of all, we’re not your damn parents. Kook may be a walking man child, but the rest of us are mature adults. We’d figure it out,” Maya says. She holds up a green gown, frowns, and returns it. Turning towards you, she quirks an eyebrow. “Second of all, who says that this morning was the first time?”

Your jaw drops. As you stand speechless, Maya resumes her dress perusal.

“Wha—how long?” you finally choke out.

“Ooh, this is pretty.” Maya pulls out a deep red cocktail dress, silver roses adorning the fabric. Catching the look on your face, she says, “Two years, give or take.”

“Two—!” you squeak before shaking your head. “No. No fucking way. You two can barely be in the same room for two minutes let alone sleep together for two years.”

Maya smirks. “Turns out he can do much better things with his mouth when he’s not using it to talk out of his ass.”

“Maya, oh my God!”

“What? You wanted to make it your business, right?”

You take a breath to steady yourself. “Look, I am just worried about you guys, okay? That’s it. You’re two of my best friends, and I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. And I certainly don’t want to be put into a situation where I have to choose between you.”

“That won’t happen,” Maya says, trailing off towards a dressing room. “For someone to get hurt, there’d have to be actual feelings involved, and the only feeling he gives me is a migraine.” She slips into a changing stall while you lean against the wall, still trying to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.

“Besides,” Maya’s voice sounded from behind the curtain, “Jimin only found out because of his stupid wallet, and he notices everything. If we could fool him for that long with no problems…” She pulls the curtain back. The red fabric of the dress hugs her hips, her dark hair draped over one shoulder. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous, as usual,” you say. And then, because you can’t help it, “I’m sure Kook will love it.”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.” She steps back into the stall and yanks the curtain closed again. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…weird.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Maya says over the shuffling of clothes. “Nothing changed during the two years when you guys didn’t know and nothing has to change now.”

Maybe she’s right, you think to yourself, resting your head back and closing your eyes to the bright fluorescents above you. Maybe everything would be fine. Jungkook, in spite of his cocky playboy persona, may be a big teddy bear at heart, but you’ve never known him to mix emotions with pleasure. And Maya is certainly capable of handling herself.

Still, the whole thing just reeks of disaster waiting to happen.

The sun has just started its descent when the two of you step out of the shop, Maya now carrying a long white bag along with her. You pause for a moment, taking a slow inhale of the soft spring air. This is probably your favorite time of day, when the whole city is tinted gold, the push of the foot traffic slowing to a lazier pace as college students and businessmen alike meander their way to dinners and evening plans.

“Do you want to do dinner at my place?” Maya asks, starting to move in the direction of her apartment as you trail at her side. “I was planning on trying this new pot roast recipe, and I’d rather not get stuck with too many leftovers.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” you say. “I’m in.”

“You just have to promise to stop looking so constipated.”

You let out a puff of a laugh. “I’m sorry—I really don’t mean to meddle.” You purse your lips. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I know, you said that already,” Maya sighs. “But we’re all grown-ups, Y/N. I know you mean well, but you’ve gotta loosen up the reins a little bit.”

“Whatever. As long as I don’t have to walk in on you guys like Jimin did.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “And just…be careful.”

Maya rolls her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that day. She knows your heart is in a good place—the stereotypical “mom friend” just looking out for everyone—but your own blind spot drives her crazy.

You insist that you don’t truly mean to meddle. Maya, however, has no such qualms.

“You know,” she says, smirking at you with a sideways glance. “If you’re really worried about someone getting their heart broken, you should spend less time worrying about me and Kook and more time worrying about Tae.”

Your steps slow, frown lines gradually forming on your face. “Tae? What about Tae?” You pause. “He and Luna broke up months ago. He said he was over her.”

They were barely together a year, but the relationship had been the longest of Taehyung’s life. He’d spent the two weeks following the breakup locked in his room while you juggled both making sure he was alright and moving into a new apartment.

Maya gestures to the bag in her hands. “Don’t stop walking. This thing is a bitch to carry.”

As you jog a few steps to catch up, you ask, “Why? Did he say something to you?”

“Oh, please.” Another eyeroll. “He was never into Luna. It’s a wonder they even lasted as long as he did.”

“Then who?”

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Maya, I genuinely have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

It’s Maya’s turn to stop in her tracks this time, passerby giving the two of you dirty looks as they swerve around you. She pins you with a pointed expression that has you blinking back at her. “What?”

Maya only continues to stare, tilting her head and biting her tongue until you finally put the pieces together. Your eyes going wide before you shake your head vigorously.

“No. No. You’re wrong.”

Maya scoffs and continues walking. “Uh-huh.”

“I’ve told you this before. We’re just comfortable with each other. He’s my—”

“Best friend who has made heart eyes at you the entire time I’ve known you two.”

“He does not. He looks at me like he’s always looked at me.”

“Exactly.”

“I—need I remind you that I’m in a committed relationship?”

“So? That doesn’t affect his feelings.”

“Tae has dated plenty of girls.”

“And with much success, obviously.”

You hesitate. “It’s not his fault that they all—”

“See how he looks at you and decide not to waste their time?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Sure it is.”

“You’re misreading it. It’s just that we have history.”

“And chemistry. And while we’re rattling off school subjects the two of you share, I’m sure he’d be willing to help you with your physical education.”

“Maya.”

“I’m just saying!” She adjusts the bag, the plastic rustling the air. “I just got this sense that something, I don’t know, broke after Luna. I figured he finally realized how hung up on you he is or something, and that’s why he hasn’t dated since.”

The idea of a broken Taehyung squeezes your heart as your frown impossibly deepens. “That’s not…no. That’s definitely not what it was. He’s fine. We’re fine. Everything is fine.”

“Okay. Fine. If you say so.”

The two of you fall into silence, the light crackle of Maya’s bag hanging delicately between you. The sun is starting to dip behind buildings now, stretching long shadows onto the ground in front of you as you turn onto her block. You inhale a long, shaky breath.

Yes, it’s been a while since Taehyung has dated, and yes, this is a little peculiar. He may be your best friend, but part of that means you’ve watched him grow from awkward kid to gangly teenager to one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re not blind—you’ve seen how it’s unsurprisingly garnered him a good deal of female attention throughout the years (Saturday afternoon was not the first time he’s been hit on by a waitress). And while he’s never been anywhere near Jungkook’s level of playboy, he’s definitely been on his fair share of dates.

You don’t doubt that Maya’s noticed something of a shift in him—after you, she’s probably the person who knows him best. But both you and Taehyung have always insisted that your platonic relationship is, well, entirely platonic. So even if something changed for him, she has to be off base as to the why.

Right?

“Maya—”

“Look, I’m not telling you to sleep with him or leave Jace or anything like that. Just…” Maya purses her lips together, blowing air out of her nose. “Step back and look at what you’re doing to him before you lecture the rest of us. The guy is crazy about you, and you’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”

Well.

Shit.

She climbs the steps to her front door, slipping in the key and opening it before turning back to where you remain at the bottom of the stoop fiddling with your purse strap.

“You coming?”

“Um,” you hesitate. Your eyes drift off down the street, mind suddenly racing . “I don’t know. I’m not really hungry anymore.”

Maya’s expression softens. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No, no,” you say with another shake of your head. “I’m not mad. I just think I want to go home, maybe take a bath.”

“Okay,” Maya slowly responds. “I’ll see you at the show Friday night?”

You smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Perhaps, Maya muses as she watches you saunter down the sidewalk, calling you out was not the right move. But the thought only lingers for a moment before she turns with a shrug and goes inside.

It’s Sunday night when you find yourself at the guys’ apartment for your and Taehyung’s weekly meal prep tradition. The ritual is the evolution of several years of having to care for yourselves—a need to eat turned into a sacred bonding activity for two people who had learned to rely on each other.

You and Taehyung met when you were eight-years-old after your teacher had fatefully situated your desks next to each other on the first day of school. A compliment from Taehyung on the color of your pencil case (a bright and bold turquoise) turned into a fast friendship that rapidly deepened as you realized just how similar you were: both only children living in homes with parents who were neglectful in their own ways.

In spite of growing up in a lavish, sparkling house with more rooms than you could count, your childhood was a struggle as your endlessly-busy, high-powered-lawyer parents virtually ignored your existence and left you to your own devices, working late hours every day and oftentimes not even ensuring that you had been properly fed. The mansion had felt like a prison, long hallways and tall ceilings devoid of life, filled with nothing but a terrible sense of loneliness.

That was, at least, until Taehyung showed up.

When either of you had a bad day (which was, admittedly, most days), he would slip away from the tiny, one-bedroom house on the poorer side of town, where his mother had abandoned him to an alcoholic father, and you'd sneak him in the back door (your parents either never noticed or simply didn't care). The two of you would raid the kitchen cabinets for snacks and lug your loot up to your bedroom, where you'd throw together a giant fort made of pillows and blankets with your prized possession at the center—a small globe light with tiny cut-out stars.

You never really talked about your respective situations—there was never really a need to. He saw your non-relationship with your parents firsthand, and you had heard the rumors about his family—whispers at school about the boy with secondhand clothes and a dad who often had to be dragged out of the local bars. The outside world may have been cruel, passing judgment on the both of you (and Taehyung especially) for circumstances outside of your control, but in the comfort of your room, even that fostered your kinship. It was like your own minuscule universe, belonging only to the two of you, and as you munched on your popcorn and watched the soft stars dance across the propped-up fabric, you'd talk and tell each other stories. Stories about anything from kings and queens to pirates to cowboys to astronauts. The only rule was that every tale had to have a happy ending.

As you got older, you traded your storytelling nights for evenings experimenting in the kitchen, sick of gorging yourselves on chips, pretzels, and sodas. Occasionally, once Taehyung purchased his first camera from a secondhand shop with money he saved delivering newspapers, he'd drag you around town for a photoshoot. You’d wander the streets together, helping him to scout out areas for inspiration, and he’d use you as his model to practice portraits and photographing human subjects. This tradition, too, had faded once the two of you escaped your hometown to go to college (you're not sure your parents even realized you had left), as Taehyung began working on class projects with Maya and you started spending more time with Jace. Only your weekly meal prep had persisted.

Your cooking had been a staple during college, you and Taehyung hosting “family dinners” for you and your friends on weekends (usually followed by a good few rounds of drinks), eventually shifting into you making batch meals on Sundays once you’d all graduated and begun working. That was when it had been you who’d lived in this apartment, back before you’d moved in with Jace and Jungkook had taken your place here. Still, even as lifestyles and living arrangements changed, you always wound up cooking with Taehyung on Sunday nights.

“What are mom and dad making tonight?” Jimin trills, reaching over the counter to take a swipe at a baby carrot. You shoo his hand away.

“Nothing, if you keep stealing our ingredients. Aren’t you supposed to be going to the gym?”

“I am, but someone,” he turns to yell over his shoulder, “is taking their sweet ass time getting ready!”

A door clicks open down the hall before Jungkook’s voice yells out, “Calm down, asshole, I’m almost done!” The door slams shut again.

“Such a diva,” Jimin huffs, gaining an edge to pop a carrot into his mouth. You let out a cry of protest.

“Chim, cut it out!” You turn to Taehyung who is at the opposite counter with his back to you, chopping more vegetables. “Tae, stop him.”

Taehyung snorts, not turning around. “That’s my job?”

“You have a knife.”

“Sorry, I’ve taken a vow of nonviolence.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter as Jimin tries to reach around you again. “Hands off, Park, or I swear to God I will kick you in the balls, and you will not see it coming.”

“Guy’s gotta get some action somehow, am I right?” Jungkook comes striding down the hallway in a tank top and shorts, looking more like he’s ready for a magazine cover shoot than a gym visit as he bounds up to where you and Jimin stand in the kitchen.

“Hey, I get plenty of action!”

“You were literally whining this morning that it’s been three months.”

Jimin flushes. “That’s because I don’t sleep with my friends.”

“Neither do I,” Jungkook says, throwing a wink in your direction as you roll your eyes back at him.

“You’re disgusting. It’s a wonder Maya puts up with you.”

“It’s definitely more of a puts out situation.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “And not really up? Contrary to what you might expect, she’s usually under—“

“Jeon Jungkook.” Then, when he makes a move to grab a carrot, you turn to Taehyung and snap, “Tae, give me a knife, I’ll stab them myself.”

Barely looking up, he reaches over to grab a knife out of the block, twisting it in his hands to hold it delicately by the blade and offer it to you handle-first. You grip it, only to slam the knife down firmly on its side in front of you, staring down Jimin and Jungkook in a silent challenge. But Jimin merely quirks an eyebrow in silent laughter, while Jungkook lets out a teasing, “Hot.”

You glare and raise the knife to chest level, pointing it at his sternum and trying to muster as much threatening energy as you possibly can in the face of a guy who could bench press you in his sleep. And while his facial expression remains one of passive amusement, he raises his hands in mock surrender and says, "Fine, fine, we're going."

With a sweep of their gym bags, they make their way out, and there's one last, "Save some for us!" from Jimin before the door swings shut behind them.

You sigh. "Idiots."

"But they're our idiots," Taehyung says, and a glance over your shoulder tells you that he's laughing at your frustration, a smile brightening his features and warming your chest.

"Remind me why we adopted them again?"

"You instantly fell for Jimin's puppy dog eyes when he was wandering around lost at orientation, and Kook..." He trails off. "Why did we adopt Kook?"

"School administration made you dorm with him, and we haven't been able to get rid of him since?"

"Oh yeah, that's right."

You fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound being that of your respective knives hitting the cutting board before Taehyung speaks up again.

"Speaking of Kook, you never told me how your conversation with Maya went."

You're thankful you have your back to him because you immediately feel yourself flush, heat shooting up your neck like an erupting volcano. You want to say, Yeah, it went great. She told me that you're desperately in love with me, and I'm the reason why none of your relationships have worked out. But that's ridiculous, right? Right?!

Instead, you do your best to mask your expression into one of relative impassivity and say, “Well, according to her, this isn’t new. They’ve been doing this for two years.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish.”

Taehyung ignores that. “How did none of us ever notice?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out. You’d think we would’ve noticed a change or something, right?”

He’s quiet, and you glance over to see him staring at a distant point out the window, lost in thought, the heel of the knife absentmindedly tapping a beat against the board. Taehyung’s always been introspective—content to sit in contemplation as he slowly works an idea through his mind. He’s thoughtful like that, ever the deliberator and rarely one to act on impulse. You balance each other out in this regard, with you having always been more inclined to break rules as you see fit and Taehyung being there to reel you in as needed.

“Maybe it works for them,” he finally says, and you feel your eyebrows shoot halfway up your forehead.

“You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”

He shrugs, attention drawn back to the vegetables in front of him. “It hasn’t caused a problem yet, right?”

“The operative word there being yet.”

He shrugs again, brows tilting together. “I’m just saying that they’re both consenting adults, and if it’s gone this long without any catastrophes, maybe it really is a good arrangement for both of them.”

“It’s Maya and Kook. They’re always a catastrophe.”

“Exactly. They’d probably have an eventual falling out even if they weren’t sleeping together, so who knows? Maybe it actually helps them work some of that tension off.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it was healthy.” He finishes chopping his last onion and sets his knife down, crossing the kitchen to check your own progress. Reaching over you, he grabs a piece of carrot and slips it into his mouth, grinning when you frown at him. “Really, Y/N, what can you do?”

“I know, but they’re…they’re the closest thing to family that we have. You know that.”

“Families can be dysfunctional. We both know that.” He munches on another carrot. “I’d still take them over my biological family any day.”

When that still doesn’t seem to entirely placate you, he reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your neck and raising goosebumps there, before he slides his hand down to loop your pinkies together. “What will happen will happen. Don’t let it worry you unnecessarily.” Then he’s off heating up oil on the stove.

Normally, the brief touch would have barely registered in your mind—a simple gesture you had gotten into the habit of using when you were kids to provide reassurance. But it’s like your conversation with Maya has been inked under your skin, recoloring your perspective on the single-most steadfast relationship you’ve ever had in your life.

You hate it.

The oil begins to bubble on the stove, but Taehyung is distracted, rummaging around the refrigerator for something, so you take over, dumping in the beef that will help form the base for the soup. You throw in some seasoning, poking at the meat with a spoon and willing it to brown.

“So you’re really not interested in dating again?”

The words slip out, and the contents of the pot pop angrily at you.

Yeah, you might regret this later.

“Hmm?” Taehyung closes the fridge, cracking open the beer that’s now in his hand.

You curse your loose tongue under your breath. “Just…the other day at lunch. You were so against asking that waitress for her number.”

“She wasn’t my type.”

“And you don’t want to bring a date to the wedding.”

“I’d only bring a long-term girlfriend to a wedding. Less of a chance we’d have to edit her out of pictures later.”

“And how many dates have you been on since Luna? It’s been what, almost a full year?”

His brow scrunches, and the way he’s studying you makes you blush. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”

You stare determinedly into the soup pot, trying to look nonchalant. “You’re my best friend, and I want to see you happy. Of course I’m interested.”

He props his hip against the counter in thought and takes a long drag of beer before he answers you. “I thought after Luna that it would be best if I take some time to focus on myself before diving back in. That’s all.”

“She really did a number on you, huh?”

“Something like that.”

You poke at the beginnings of your soup, memories of an absolutely miserable Taehyung surfacing in your mind. “It sucked, you know.”

“What?”

“Seeing your heart break.”

“Ah.” He takes another drink. “Right.”

“I swear, if I saw her again, I’d be tempted to kick her ass.”

He chuckles at that, and it rumbles his entire chest.

It might stir something in yours, too.

“I mean it, Tae.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you do.”

“Could be anywhere: club, grocery store. I’m not afraid to throw hands.”

He gives a tilt of his head. “She was a third degree black belt.”

“Well I kicked that Kenji kid in the groin during recess after he stole your backpack, and he cried for like twenty minutes. Remember that? He was practically six feet tall in the fifth grade, and that didn’t stop me. First degree black belt my ass.”

“Third degree.”

“Whatever.”

“Well as much as I appreciate your determined defense of my pride, I can assure you any emotional distress I suffered was minimal—“

“You haven’t dated since!”

“—and is definitely not worth putting yourself in the hospital over.”

“You don’t miss it though? What about like…” You trail off, cursing your stupid mouth getting ahead of your brain. You’ve never really talked about this before. Relationships, sure, but when it comes to the physical, along with your families, it’s one of the few subjects you avoid.

As your pause stretches on, he raises his eyebrows in question, and you decide to just come out with it.

“What about sex?”

Taehyung, to his credit, is unfazed by your sudden mention of the taboo. “I still have two hands, and they haven’t failed me so far.”

“Oh, Tae, ew.”

He grins devilishly at you, mischief brightening his eyes. It’s a look that he used to wear all the time when you were kids but which became rarer once he mellowed out with adulthood.

Seeing it on him now makes your heart jump.

“Point taken, forget I asked,” you say, and he laughs.

“Really, I’m fine with taking a break from dating for now. Isn’t that what that band you love is always preaching? Self-love and all that.”

You huff out a breath, nodding at his hands. “You don’t say.”

He laughs again, grinning down at you, and the uncertainty you’ve been feeling bubbles up again, your nerves sparking in time with a particularly loud crackle from the pot on the stove.

“Ah, geez, don’t let it burn,” he says, nudging you out of the way to take over. You take the opportunity to wander over to the fridge for a water bottle, feeling the need to cool yourself down. Honestly, what is wrong with you?

Taehyung, in sync with your moods by now, reads you like a book. “I feel like I should be asking you if you’re okay.” He says as he sets the meat aside and begins simmering the mirepoix in the fat. “You seem distracted.”

The conversation has become too much for you to wrestle with at this point, and you feel the need to shut it down before it gets out of control entirely. So you swallow down your anxieties like a pill without water and deflect.

“There’s just…a lot going on right now.”

It’s almost imperceptible, possibly a trick of the light, but his back stiffens ever so slightly. “Hmm, I’m sure.” He looks up at you from the stove, eyes pinning you where you stand. “But you’d tell me if there were something?”

You swallow. “Of course. You?”

“Of course.”

And that has to be enough for now.

The glow of the sunset creeps into your room as you put the finishing touches on your make-up for the night. You're running later than anticipated as you had hoped to catch Jace before you left—you know he has a virtual client meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes that he had planned to attend from home, but he texted you a half-hour ago saying that he got caught up at the office and might just take it there.

With your make-up done, you can't justify lingering any longer and decide to just leave him a note letting him know when you'll be back. Jace's desk is an absolute mess, but you're thankfully able to locate a notepad easily. A pen, however, is a different matter, and it's not long before you're rummaging through the drawers trying to find anything to write with. For a man who keeps his appearance so well-groomed, he has a true affinity for clutter, and you roll your eyes at the junk you have to sift through in search of a simple writing utensil: a hammer, old movie tickets, a broken picture frame, a ring box...

A ring box?

You pause, fingers hovering over the black velvet. Surely, you shouldn't look, right? You already feel like you're crossing some line by discovering the small box—you should preserve some element of surprise for both of your sakes.

Still, the devil on your shoulder whispers to sneak a peek...

Your decision is made for you as you hear the front door click open and shut, and you hastily close the drawer and try to school your features into something casual.

"Hey, gorgeous."

Jace leans in the doorway grinning, not a single sandy brown hair out of place and his impeccably-ironed dress shirt pulled tight across his toned chest. In a fraction of a second, you see his eyes flick from his desk drawer to where you stand stiffly in front of it.

"Hey!" The word comes out a little too loudly, and you rush to cover up the blunder. "I thought I wouldn't see you."

"Wanted to surprise my girl," he says, smile brightening as he swings a hand from behind his back to offer you a single red rose. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take it from him, marveling at how—even four years down the line—he can still manage to charm you.

He presses a kiss to your mouth, hands trailing down the back of your dress to palm your ass with a groan. "Fuck. Can't believe I have this work meeting when you look like this."

"And unfortunately, I need to get going, too, or Maya will have my head." You lean in for another quick peck. "Rain check for later?"

He chuckles, letting you go with one final squeeze. "I'll hold you to that."

"Look who finally showed up!" is what you're greeted with when you locate your friends in the gallery atrium, dodging the other patrons milling about.

"Sorry, got caught up with Jace," you say, shrugging at Maya's teasing glare.

Jungkook winks at you. "I'm sure you did."

"Yah, Kook, don't be gross," Jimin complains, slapping him on the arm.

"What?! She looks great! Right, Tae? Tell her she looks great."

You meet Taehyung's eyes for the first time since you walked up, and he shifts on his feet, gaze darting down to the accentuated curve of your hips. Clearing his throat, he smiles and says, "You look beautiful."

Cheeks hot, you murmur a quiet, "Thanks," so distracted by the awkwardness of the moment that you don't notice the look exchanged by Jimin and Maya between you.

Friends can call friends beautiful and not have it mean anything beyond that, right? You told Maya she looked gorgeous when she bought her dress with you last weekend, and you’d definitely be willing to admit that Taehyung looks incredible tonight. His navy blue suit hugs the lines of his body perfectly—highlighting his tall, lithe form—while his hair is combed up and off his forehead in a style that projects both professionalism and approachability. Combine that with the easy smile he keeps on his face, and he’s basically in male model territory.

You’ll be stunned if he doesn’t get hit on again tonight.

You make some idle small talk with your friends for a few minutes (Jungkook is trying to convince the others to head over to the bar where he works after the reception) before Maya gently nudges you with an elbow.

"Go and have a look around. Mine are back there," she declares, nodding her head towards the right hand corner of the exhibit, "but you should really check out all of the work—there's some good stuff. Hoseok and Sunny are around somewhere too."

You nod, welcoming the chance to see what it is your friends have been working so hard on, and excuse yourself to peruse the gallery. You may not be much of a creative mind yourself, but years of friendship with Taehyung and his infectious enthusiasm have at least helped you develop an appreciation for art. Weaving between the walls of frames and canvases, you stop here and there as a piece catches your eye: dark bars slashed across a messy outline of a heart titled Fake Love; a small boy offering up a waffle cone that holds a rose instead of ice cream—For You.

However, you find yourself slowing down entirely when you get to Maya's collection of photographs. They're mostly black and white candids of strangers. A woman shopping in an outdoor market. A girl chasing a dog in a park. Your friends pop up occasionally, and you smile at one of the memories you recognize: Jungkook pushing Jimin into the pool during your friendcation last year, bunny smile stretched wide across his face.

And suddenly you're frozen by a photo that's in full color.

It's Taehyung's face in close-up, his head turned to the side as he looks at something out of frame. His jaw strikes a downward line, mouth ever so slightly dipped open in something akin to wonder and tan cheeks curving with subtle delight. It's his eyes you can't look away from, though, opened wide enough to soak in whatever he's looking at that they reflect the golden lights around him, tiny galaxies swimming in his irises.

"Enjoying the view?" a deep voice teases at your shoulder, the man himself coming to stand at your side.

"That's an incredible picture of you," you tell him, still taking it in.

He hums in agreement. "I told you, she did a good job."

"Was that last summer?"

"Yeah." He nods his head at the picture of Jimin and Jungkook. "Same night as that, I think."

"What were you looking at?"

Taehyung is quiet as he thinks, scratching lightly at his nose. "I can't say I remember. Probably Hoseok walking out with that plate of pork belly. That was mouth-watering."

You laugh, and he smiles back at you before gesturing at the rows of artwork. "Can I show you some of my favorites?"

"I'd love that."

You let him drag you away, but not before glancing back to read the title card delicately placed next to Taehyung's image.

Your eyes tell.

Taehyung navigates you around the exhibit for a while, describing his role in organizing the gallery and stopping to gush about his favorite pieces. You've always loved hearing him talk about art, his passion for the subject illuminating his face as he enthuses about light and shadows and colors.

He's explaining the rule of thirds to you when Maya interrupts, telling Taehyung she has a potential client for him that she wants him to meet. He promises to find you later as she whisks him away, and, alone again, you decide to head to the adjoining reception area in search of your other friends.

You’re only a few steps into the room when you hear a voice call out your name, Jimin flagging you down from where he stands at a table with Jungkook, Hoseok, and Sunny, and you quickly slide up to hug the latter two.

“You guys made it! We’ve missed you. How’s wedding planning going?”

Hoseok groans into his champagne. “Please do not remind me,” he grumbles. “It makes med school feel like a cakewalk.”

“What my wonderful fiancé meant to say,” Sunny says, playfully elbowing Hoseok in the side and making him sputter on his drink, “is that it’s going fantastically, and we can’t wait to celebrate with you all.”

“Rumor is that it’s the can’t-miss event of the year,” Jimin singsongs. “And Kook and I are bringing the party!” He reaches over so he and Jungkook can share a short but excessively elaborate handshake.

Sunny looks on, amused. “Speaking of, do you two know if you’re bringing dates? We don’t have to finalize headcount quite yet, but knowing sooner rather than later would be appreciated.”

“I will definitely be going stag, but I think Kook might have one, yeah?” Jimin’s voice is teasing, but Jungkook doesn’t catch on, throwing him a quizzical look and causing Jimin to clarify with a smirk. “Maya.”

Jungkook scoffs, muttering, “Not a chance,” while Hoseok’s and Sunny’s eyebrows shoot up in sync.

“You and Maya are dating now?” Sunny asks, eyes wide.

Jungkook tosses Jimin a glare. “No, he’s being an ass.”

When Sunny and Hoseok continue to look confused, glancing back and forth between Jungkook and Jimin, Jimin explains, "We found out recently—and unpleasantly for me, might I add—that Maya and Kook here have been engaging in some activities with, ah, no strings?"

Hoseok's eyebrows go impossibly higher, threatening to meld with his hairline, as his mouth pops open in surprise. "Uhh...congrats?"

Jungkook shakes his head, bottom lip jutting out like a child. "Chim's just jealous because he's in a drought."

"Hey!"

"I, for one, don't see an issue," Sunny says, hopping in to play peacemaker before Jimin and Jungkook devolve into one of their notorious bickering sessions. "You're both adults. And don't sweat it, Jimin, any girl would be lucky to have you."

"What's that supposed to mea—" Hoseok starts to ask before Sunny shuts him up with a finger to his lips, subtly nodding her head at the clearly placated men.

"I just can't believe you two are finally getting married." You change the subject, snatching up a flute of champagne off a tray as a waiter walks by. "Been a long time coming."

Sunny hums. "To be honest, I'm surprised we're beating you and Jace to the alter," she says, and now it's your turn to cough on your drink. "When is that happening?"

"Oh, I, um—" you stutter, as you weigh how much you should say. You should keep what you saw earlier a secret, right? After all, what if you're wrong and you come out looking like a fool?

But four pairs of eyes are now fixed on you expectantly, and these are your friends so you cave.

"Okay, I am swearing all of you to secrecy," you say, making deliberate eye contact with each of them in turn to emphasize your point, "but I literally found a ring box in his desk earlier when I was getting ready to come here."

The table erupts in your friends' squeals and cheers, Jimin and Jungkook coming around to playfully shake your shoulders.

"Oh my gosh, I knew it!"

"That's amazing news!"

"I want to be man of honor!"

"I already called dibs!"

"What are we calling dibs on?"

Your heart skips as Taehyung joins your table, smiling at the five of you but obviously perplexed as to what the ruckus is about. And maybe you're imagining it, but your friends all seem to quiet down at his appearance as well, causing Maya's words to once again echo in your mind. The guy is crazy about you, and you're the only one who doesn't see it.

An awkward silence drapes itself over the table, Jimin being the one to pipe up when Taehyung's expression begins to morph from curious to concerned. "Y/N, tell him the good news!"

At that, Taehyung's brown eyes settle on you, and so you take a deep breath and spill. "I found a ring box in Jace's desk."

You're looking at him intently, and it's only the tiniest sliver of a second, but you see it. Unmistakably.

His face drops.

If Maya's photo captured stars in his eyes, you watch each go out one-by-one, his lips pressing together like he's trying not to be sick. A heaviness hits his shoulders that has his chest curling inwards and you almost reaching out to him...

And just like that—all at once—he's gathered his features into a smile and beams at you.

"That's fantastic, Y/N. I'm so incredibly happy for you."

His voice sounds genuine, dripping in the baritone honey that is so warm and so him, but you know what you saw—you're sure of it—and it has your mind spinning.

Shit, shit, shit, she was right.

You down your champagne in one gulp, oblivious to the shocked faces around you as you throw it back and thump the glass harshly on the table. "I'm going for a drink. Anyone want anything?"

You barely give them time to shake their heads before you're scurrying away to the bar and ordering a cosmopolitan—strong. Thoughts whirring, you try to make sense of Taehyung’s crestfallen expression as the bartender mixes your drink. There surely must be an alternate explanation, right? Until now, Taehyung has never, ever given any indication that he has feelings for you. This must be a mistake; you must be seeing things…

But just as the bartender slides your glass across the countertop, you glance back at the table, blood running cold as you find Taehyung already looking at you. He gives you a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes before turning back to listen to whatever Jimin is currently saying.

You quickly down your second drink of the night and order a third.

a/n: and we’re off! likes, reblogs, comments, asks, feedback, constructive criticism, and carrier pigeons are all appreciated! this started off as a story with all OCs, and the first drafts of some of these scenes were originally written in third person omniscient so please forgive me if the POVs are a little all over the place in this chapter. it’ll be rectified moving forward!

taglist open: just message or reply 😊

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Note

Can you do a meet cute blurb with Harry and a totally normal not famous girlie, I’m dying for a cute mushy blurb 🥰

Can you read minds? Because I have wanted to do something like that for the longest time 👀 and because I’m in the mood, here we go. This is set at the beginning of his NYC shows this year!

warnings: none, only fluff, one short mention of Olivia, that’s it

word counter: 2.5k

Harry Styles x University!Reader

;

It had been a busy and more than stressful day back at Parsons; her brain still smoked after hours of theoretical lectures and even more hours in one of the many photo shooting studios the private art and design school owned in their buildings. Her back hurt from the crouching position she had held since their lunch break because the current lecture slot was themed around still lives, and she hated to take photos from a chair. YN needed the constant movement of her body to really focus on her work. But now, everything the photography student wanted was to grab something halfway decent for dinner on her way home instead of ordering another round of sushi and pizza for her two roommates and herself. Well, YN would already be happy if she found something with a lot of salad and veggies without having to spend the entirety of her remaining weekly allowance on the ingredients for a self-made salad. But on the other hand, she wouldn’t have time to spend more money if she hid in her favorite photo studio right opposite the Hudson River or if she grabbed her camera to stroll around New York City in order to fill her portfolio.

The argument inside her head was on fire while her thumbs rapidly typed away on her phone to ask her two roomies if they needed dinner as well. Her feet carried YN safely around the corners and streets of Greenwich, heading straight to the perfectly stocked Target down the street because she knew how things would go if she talked herself into trying her luck at the supermarket only a block away from her home. She would be furious because the best stuff would already be gone, and YN really couldn’t allow another night with take-out.

It was as if her mother’s mouth was attached to her ear to keep the warnings on repeat.

Softly shaking her head to free herself from the sticking thoughts, YN entered Target and hummed under her breath. The young woman fixed the strap of her camera bag on her shoulder, strolling through the first few aisles, eyes wandering over the shelves in deep concentration. Her arm stretched out to reach and grab a box of cereals without hesitation, which found its way into the soft embrace of her other arm before she continued her path through the supermarket; hummed tunes still leaving her lips. It helped that the store’s radio started to play the first seconds of Late Night Talking before a cashier’s announcement interrupted the melody already. But YN knew the song by heart, so it was easy to continue the text in her mind.

With her left arm filled with the box of cereals and a pack of her favorite granola bars, the woman rounded the next corner to finally move forward to her desired section, distracted by her own thoughts and the vibration of her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. YN knew that this could never end good—and she always had been right about it; today didn’t mark an exception because the universe rarely smiled upon her.

A strong chest stopped her steps abruptly, and before YN could follow the cereals and granola bars closely in their journey downwards to the floor, a pair of equally strong hands grabbed her elbows in a steadying hold. Even before her brain could process the situation, her heart already pumped adrenaline through her veins, and her senses were heightened. YN felt the strap of the camera bag slid off her shoulder before she could pull the body part up, and so her left hand rushed to the rescue—just like another set of fingers. They met underneath the bag; her palm connected to the rough fabric while the other pressed against the back of her hand.

None of them had uttered a single word so far, barely even letting out a surprised huff of air at the feeling of impact, but now, a voice spoke up. “Everything’s okay?” And instantly, her head jerked up, and wide eyes stared into the most handsome face gracing this earth with its existence. Only moments ago, she had listened to his songs in her head, had hummed them, had mentally cursed the cashier for interrupting it—though YN knew that the poor soul didn’t have a choice—and now, the bearer of the voice, the creator of the songs, stood right in front of her, holding her elbow not to see her tumble to the ground.

Harry Styles is holding my arm between white bread and baking mix.

If her heart hadn’t worked overtime before, it damn sure did now.

“I… I am so sorry,” she pressed out after finally finding the ability to speak again and clinging to it like a drowning person on a piece of driftwood. “Oh gosh, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t daydream while getting my stuff.” Speaking of which. YN’s eyes had to peel themselves off his face with a small smile playing around his lips to locate her proudest possessions so far. She didn’t even realize that their hands still touched to support her camera and save it from destruction. But Harry Styles—she still couldn’t wrap her head around it—seemingly caught up to it again because his eyes wandered between the bag and her face. “You got it?” His voice was so gentle she probably would’ve swooned if she had heard it on YouTube while watching one of his interviews in the depths of night. But now, YN only took a deep breath—she was raised to be a decent human and had grown into a decent adult, after all—and nodded softly and pushed the strap back onto her shoulder.

She crouched down to retrieve her granola bars which had stopped right next to her sneaker-clad foot, while the man took one step to the side to grab the fallen cereal box. They both returned to their heights at the same time, and Harry grinned down at the box in his hand before showing it her. “Lucky Charms, hm?” YN wasn’t sure why, but she had to chuckle under her breath at his tone. “Thanks.” She took the box and put it back into the embrace of her arm. A basket would’ve been too easy, dumbass, mocked the voice in her head while YN still tried to grasp a hold of her current reality. “Best cereals there is if you ask me. And… well, I have to be rebellious in my freedom.” Now, the woman grinned as well, which grew in its intensity as the singer leaned his head closer to hers. “Strict parents?” YN moved her face in his direction. “A dentist as a mom,” she whispered conspiratorially, and both chuckled like teenagers after they’d shared new gossip.

“But, seriously, I’m really sorry for… this.” The student waved her hand through the air, pointing from herself to him and the surrounding environment, but Harry waved it off with a charming smile. “Would it make it better if I tell you that I would always choose this over paparazzi and unrelenting fans?” YN had to swallow dryly because suddenly, Death Valley was located in her mouth rather than back in California. But she nodded nonetheless, even though the movement held an unsure edge to it. “This is actually making me feel better about it, yeah,” she agreed, and it was true because she finally didn’t feel the urgent need to ask if he wanted her social security number—just in case. Her brain still pressed her to ask. “So… No SSN needed? No injuries and the like? I don’t want to be the reason that Harry Styles isn’t able to jump over a stage without a cast.”

His soft laugh ran through her body like a warm shiver, and his eyes, watching her face so intently, almost let her cheeks fire up in a crimson red. “No social security number needed, no. I’m fine. More than fine, actually…”

Harry’s voice lost itself somewhere after his last spoken word; his mind traveled to daydreams about bowls full of Lucky Charms during a lazy morning, and the sound of her laugh echoed in his head as he pushed himself back on track. He cleared his throat softly. “Is it okay to ask for your name, or is it too bold because we’re standing between Nature’s Own Whitewheat Enriched Bread and…—” Harry looked to his right and grabbed a baking mix out of the shelf to inspect the brand before looking back up to the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. “…—and Betty Crocker’s Red Velvet Mix?” She took a step toward him and got a hold of the package—their fingertips touched in the gentlest of ways, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest—before taking it entirely and letting it disappear between her arm and torso. “I obviously have an advantage right now, don’t I?” Her small, teasing smile drove him almost mad. “You certainly do,” Harry returned and couldn’t help but smile. “Then you certainly can ask for my name,” the woman nodded, and he raised a brow, waiting.

And when he thought her smile almost drove him mad, he wasn’t prepared for the gentle laugh escaping her now.

Damn, was all the singer could think.

“There wasn’t a question,” she teased him relentlessly, and Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “A funny one, aren’t we?” Both tried to hide their grins as he stretched out his ring-clad hand. “Harry Styles. With whom do I have the pleasure?” He watched her as she fixed the strap of her small bag—he suspected it to be a camera bag—before their hands met again; this time in full awareness of their doing. “YN LN—photography student and Lucky Charms votary.”

Both could feel the tingles running up their arms, letting goosebumps erupt on their skins, and finally, the blood was able to run into her cheeks and tint them rosy red. Harry only could think how adorable it made her look, even more so than before. But he couldn’t boast of being unaffected because the singer could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and he felt nervousness rising up in his body. At least he didn’t get sweaty hands this easily anymore…

“I fear I might be too bold and daring now, but… Damn. Uhm…” YN raised both brows in anticipation and curiosity. She had never witnessed Harry Styles being overly shy or insecure, but well, everything in those interviews and articles could be full-on show, even though she didn’t think this man was a big fan of pretending to be someone else. So, it let him appear even more charming than before and the woman already dreaded the moment she would have to part from him forever.

After all, what could a world-famous singer want from or with her? Especially a singer who still was or wasn’t involved in a relationship with a certain someone, so… Yeah. YN was just curious about what Harry tried to ask of her—and she didn’t have to wait much longer.

“Okay, bloody fuck it,” he started, and the smaller woman looked up at him with a questioning expression, still unsure what this could be about. “I’m being daring. So, here is the question: Can I get your number? If you’re not taken—happily or unhappily—or already seeing someone, that is, of course. And only if you’re interested in men at all.”

Moments like these were life-defining, world-changing. They always started innocently, but in the midst of the attack, time and space seemed to slow down around one until they almost stopped spinning altogether. YN felt exactly like this, and it wouldn’t even surprise her if she looked around right now and found that everyone in this Target had stopped moving entirely; except for them. But she wasn’t even able to move her gaze from the man in front of her, too enthralled by his presence and asked question, which implied so much more than her mind could process right now.

YN wasn’t even sure how to begin, but her lips were faster than her brain. “What’s with…?” Her lips may have been faster, but they certainly weren’t ready to form a complete sentence. But Harry understood her anyway. “Olivia?” With a racing heart, YN only dared to nod her head yes and watched him sigh softly, fingers raking through his soft-looking mop of curls. “We haven’t made it public yet, but… we’re done. We’re done for a long time already,” he explained, and she could feel how her head nodded in understanding. She didn’t need to know more, so she held out a hand with a reappearing smile on her lips. Harry’s eyes jumped from the palm of her hand to her eyes in a matter of milliseconds. “Well?” Now, a grin started to tuck at the corner of her mouth before Harry slowly began to understand the meaning of it, and a lovely blush graced his cheeks while he got a hold of his phone, unlocked it, and had opened his contact list. The phone found its way into her hand, and YN started to type before handing it back to him.

Harry laughed under his breath at the sight of the newly saved contact before looking back into her face. “Cult Leader?” YN full-on grinned over her entire face. “I have to at least try to convert people to the Lucky Charms belief, don’t I?” And she never saved herself in a serious manner into other people’s phones if it wasn’t work- or study-related. She loved making people smile or laugh if they saw her name popping up on their screens. “Sounds more like a sect to me, but I can live with that very easily as long as I’m allowed to call you.” Chuckling, YN softly shook her head at him. “You really are a cheeky one, aren’t you? But yes, you have permission to call me. That’s what numbers are for,” she teased and took a quick glance at the watch on her wrist. “Okay, this sounds really shitty, but I slowly have to get going. I have an assignment until eight, which I still have to edit the hell out of, and the subway will be hell if I’m not getting in before five.” She loved living in Brooklyn, but the subway rides were always a hassle if YN missed the tiny but perfect slot between four and five and timed everything perfectly to outdo the tedious rush hour. But Harry—universe bless him—nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, sure, of course! Don’t worry. I have your number now, remember? You’re not out of this world, only blocks, a river, or a call away.”

Smiling up at him, the woman could hug the entire world, and the happiness rushing through her system still would be almost too much to bear. “‘Kay. Then… I'll probably hear from you,” she grinned, unsure of what to do now. Should she shake his hand? Hug him? Just turn around and leave this aisle of which they still were the only occupants? Harry made it easy for her: He slowly started walking backward, eyes trained unmoving on her. “You said eight?” YN nodded while watching him. “Yeah, why?” But she only got a grin as an answer before he disappeared around the next corner and left a stunned YN behind.

;

I seriously didn’t plan to write this much, but deal with it. And I’m sorry to put her name into this, but I kinda wanted the slight implication of drama because I’m thinking about using this scenario as the base for some smau :3

Hope y’all enjoyed this because I really enjoyed writing it! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x normal!reader #harry styles x student!reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles request #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles writing

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xxstealla · 9 months

Text

Traitor

scaramouche x reader angst

In which Scaramouche prefers Haypasia's presence more than yours.

angst, cheating, no comfort

You have been wandering with Scaramouche ever since his second betrayal. Being by his side as his lover, never leaving his side, you promised after all.

So why is it that he built up his walls again? Why is it that he's so cold to you lately?

He has fatui duties, you know that. However, he could at least spare some time for his beloved, right?

"Hey scara?"

"What?"

"Do you think we can have lunch together tomorrow? Its been so long, and it's our anniversary."

"I'm busy."

"How about at night then?"

"I'm busy."

"Surely you have at least an hour to spare? It's a really special day-"

"I already said that i'm busy. Are you so imcompetent that you can even comprehend what 'busy' means?"

Tears threatened to escape your eyes at this point. You don't need to look at him to feel his cold glare.

"Sorry, I uh-"

Words struggled to come out as the tightness in your throat go worse.

"I don't want to deal with you right now. I already have a lot on my plate, and you being so fucking clingy is so annoying."

And with that, he left you alone in the once warm and fuzzy house you both called 'home'.

You decided to hang out with your friends to keep your mind off the eariler events.

All was well, you finished a delicious dinner with them, and while leaving one of your friends tripped and fell facefirst into the concrete floor.

But as soon as you bid goodbye to your friends, you caught a glimpse of indigo hair. Next to a young maiden of green hair. They were leaving a fancy resturant together.

Heh. That's weird.

'I thought he was busy.'

You tried to turn away, but he already met your eyes.

Smirking, he exchange a few words with the young woman. He then tipped her chin up, bought her lips closer to his, and connected them.

The world stilled as your vision blurred, the tightness in your throat returned.

You quickly fled the scene before he could make you see more.

Slamming the door to your 'home' open, it felt so empty. Something felt out of place, you felt out of place.

The image was burned into your mind, you wanted to gag. To hear him say that it wasn't real. To hear him say that you are still his one and only.

It hurts. It hurts so bad. It's as if the house itself was mocking you.

Pictures of the two of you, memories of the sweet moments that took place here, all thrown into your face.

You decided to leave. You packed everything you owned. Eyeing the matching bracelet he got you, you snatched it off and threw it in a bin somewhere, leaving the memories behind along with him.

#genshin #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #angst #hurt #cheating #UEUEUE #scaramouche x reader angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #haypasia

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butterfliesornauseous · 5 months

Text

500 special part 2: hunger in bed

Warning for character skipping meals (unintentionally), teasing and hunger, cheesy use of pet names

“Yep, power is not going to be back on for a while.” A says as they click their phone off with one hand while the lighting a candle with the other. A gets up and smiles, looking over at B. “Guess we are going to have to wait a little to head out for dinner out, huh?”

B sits on the edge of the bed with a huff and crosses their arms, “Why?” B doesn’t mean to come off rudely, but truth be told, B hasn’t eaten all day and their dinner reservation was their ticket to rescuing their stomach from its empty churning.

“Why? We can’t leave until the power is back on, it’s not safe to drive in the dark” A replies a little confused. They sit on the bed next to B to grab B’s face to look at them. “What’s with the face, sweetheart, you still get to spend time with me tonight.”

B feels their stomach muscles tighten unpleasantly like it’s going to growl, but no pressure gets relieved. Their tummy has been like that all day. It wasn’t like B didn’t eat on purpose. B had dinner early last night yet somehow still accidentally slept in so they missed breakfast and then as a consequence in they were nearly late to work and ended up forgetting to bring lunch with them. On top of that, conveniently, B forgot their phone and wallet to buy anything during their breaks and once B got home, they were too busy getting ready for their date. All day, their mouth has been watering, thinking of dinner like a reward for making it through the day.

Lost in thought, B didn’t realise their stomach muscles finally loosen until they feel a rumble through their ribs with a a short but audible grumble. Their stomach instinctively clenches again in after the sound.

“Was that your stomach?” A asks.

“I-“ B doesn’t know how to respond before a little lower in their left side another rumble issues, and they clasp a hand to their gut to cover it with a blush.

A moves closer with a little concern in their voice. “Woah, you sound really hungry.”

“I haven’t eaten in a while.” B shrugs defensively. Rubbing their hand across their belly.

“How long is a while?” A arches on of their eyebrows.

With a little shame, B responds “All day.”

A suddenly lays B down and leans over them in concern. “All day, why?” A puts their hand on B’s stomach.

B realises how embarrassing it is now to admit all their little mistakes that have led to one empty unhappy tummy. B quickly says sheepishly, “Late to work, no time to eat, forget lunch, forgot phone and wallet to pay for lunch, had to get ready.”

A looks down at B with concern and mild amusement. “You know you can’t starve your poor belly like that.” A says with a little more of a tease and squeezes their tummy a little, prompting their tummy to admit a quick humble growl. A moves lays their head onto to B’s stomach. A says with fake wonder, “Oh, I think I can hear the next one coming.”

“Can you stop teasing me” B complains in a whine like matter. They try to push A’s face away before their stomach has chance to make any noise again.

“Oh darling, this is just the consequence of neglecting yourself.” A smirks. They squeeze B’s lower belly gently again.

“Isn’t that right.” A says in response to a deeper groan like sound.

“Actually stop it”

“Or what?”

B stomach growls again, a higher pitched sound that sounds like it’s being squeezed at the end. B’s head dips in embarrassment.

“Thought so” A puts their hand back onto B’s stomach under their rib. “Wow, I can really feel them building up in there, do they hurt?” A’s ask and moves their hand back and forward against B’s abdomen. B shakes their head to not worry A.

“You sure…. You do sound bad?” A sighs now just leaving their hand motionless and spreading their fingers out instead feeling a silent vibration under their palm.

“Only the ones near my ribs” B comes clean as another pocket near their ribs tightly rumbles.

“See you can’t do this to yourself, darling, even if it’s just a day.” A leans over to boop B noise in concern and to annoy them.

“You could have told me you haven’t eaten today, I would have brought you something to eat before dinner, now look at your poor tummy.” A mock coos at the end.

“It’s okay, really.” B cringes at their belly whining in response.

“It’s not okay when your stomach is moaning at me.” A lightly scolds then breaks into a smile.

“Hopefully the power won’t take too long” B says hopefully, B’s voice breaks at the end in time for the lights above to flick on.

“Oh, powers back on,” A looks up to the lights before B stomach grumbles again and A squeezes it “Someone’s eager.”

#500 followes special/#hungry stomach #stomach growling #tummy noises #stomach kink #stomach noises #(2/5.)#i originally wrote the start ages ago and forgot the direction it was meant to take but I feel like what I originally planned was better #probably might re write this one in the future aswell

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mirandapriestlyswife · 30 days

Text

Mirandy fanfic- Apocalypse Au; Chapter 4

Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long Ive been busy :) this is mostly just fluffy filler, im hoping to make the next few chapters more angsty. Enjoy!

Prologue- https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747204446805704704/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-prologue

Chapter 1 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747303362291286016/mirandy-apocalypse-fic-chapter-1

Chapter 2 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747419492186996736/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-2

Chapter 3 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747593307288403968/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

Waking up with your old bosses head snuggled tight in the crook of your neck is a nice feeling, but an odd one at that. It’s what Andy has been dealing with the last 6 weeks. After that first night Miranda was quick to move all of her things to the studio apartment she resided in. The floor was practically shaking under the pressure of the dozens of suitcases Miranda had brought with her. Eventually, as she assumed, Miranda got sick of the pull out couch. Its what she expected. What she didn’t expect was for Miranda to insist they inhabit a place that required less stairs to climb.

“Maybe a nice first floor hotel room?” Andy suggested

“No room on the first floor is nice.”

“Maybe we could go to queens? See if theres any abandoned places there?”

Miranda snorted, “Queens.. Be serious, Andrea.”

“Maybe we could take a trip like I suggested?”

“No.”

“Alright..”

Miranda let out a deep sigh and a grunt, “Maybe.”

Maybe was good enough for Andy!

Over the weeks they had finally decided on a beautiful brownstone, probably abandoned by some rich upper class losers who had ditched the city to go hide in one of those bunkers upstate.. At least thats what shes assuming since Miranda made her look through every room, under every duvet cover, in every bathtub, for any corpses but none were to be found. It took the two of them what felt like hours to haul Mirandas suitcases inside (with Andy doing most of the work).

Now the two sat, with Miranda sitting at the kitchen island reading some old magazine as Andy prepared “lunch” (a combination of canned green beans, spam, and canned corn), she didn’t bother telling Miranda its spam so she’d actually eat.

“Whatcha reading?”

“Runway.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” She smiled and slid Miranda her plate which Miranda looked at with only mild disgust rather than her usual “oh my God I used to have a private chef, now look at me” face. She sat down next to the editor and took a bite of the salty green beans. It was weird, having this almost domestic relationship with Miranda of all people.. I mean- they slept in the same bed for Gods sake. Andy couldn’t tell what she felt for the older woman anymore, something between love and slight fear, alike before the outbreak, but maybe with a bit less fear after sleeping in the same bed as her for nearly a month. They haven’t spotted another living person in all of New York City, it felt as Miranda said, “A waste of time” to keep looking.

“Sooo.. Anything new in Runway?”

Miranda let out a displeased grunt.

“Can you at least eat?“

Miranda visibly rolled her eyes and shut her magazine before poking at the meal.

“You slept in late today.” The editor noted aloud.

“Yeah.. Guess I was tired-“

“I was worried you died.”

Andy snorted and took a bite of her spam when she saw Miranda staring at her with her piercing blue eyes, somehow scarier in the afternoon light. “Im serious.”

Andy paused, unsure how to act. “Mira- what-?? Im not gonna just die on you!” She awkwardly sputtered out.

“Well.. Good.” The editor stared at the other woman’s facial features for a minute before turning back to her plate and continuing to poke at the food.

“Can you actually eat something? Im tired of watching you poke at your food like some snooty house cat.” She watched closely as Miranda rolled her eyes and finally took a bite of the corn with a displeased look.

“Good?”

“Its fine.”

Andy chuckled, “Thanks.. I worked all day on it.” Miranda was not amused by her attempt at humor.

The two ate in silence until Andy spoke up. “I think im gonna head out today.. Look for some more food or something.. You want anything special?” The editor rolled her eyes

“A ribeye would be lovely.”

“Sure ill add it to the list next to the lobster dinner.”

Miranda grumbled and took a bite of meat which she visibly cringed at. She sighed woefully as they ate in silence.

“I like your shoes.”

“They’re last seasons.”

“Im sure no one will notice.”

Miranda smiled. Andy found it rewarding to see the editor smile. It felt as if she was playing a constant game of try not to laugh and she was always losing, but sometimes she had a small victory.

“We should go to MoMa soon.” Miranda suggested as she pushed her half eaten food away and stood up.

“We could go today?”

“I thought you would be searching for more cans of vomit to serve us.”

Andy frowned, “Hey! Its good. You’re just too privileged to appreciate the effort that goes into-“

“Into opening a can?” Miranda smirked, she always got that smug look of satisfaction when she was right, it made Andys heart flutter.

“I don’t just ‘open a can’, I have to go search for things I’ll hope you’ll eat, touch dusty crates in the back of bodegas, its gross.” Miranda simply scoffed and turned on her heels, setting the magazine she had been reading on the slightly dusty table that displayed photos of the twins Miranda had taken with her along with two urns.

Andy never asked about the twins. She was sure Miranda didn’t want to talk about them. She sighed and scratched at her arm awkwardly as she leaned on the kitchen island.

“Well. If you must.. Scavenge, then go ahead. But I would like you back before dark.”

One thing new shed learned about Miranda Priestly was that the woman was absolutely petrified of the dark. Whenever the two went to bed the room had to be illuminated by battery powered candles just for the editor to sleep through the night. Andy might’ve found it endearing if it didn’t always put a time limit on all of her out of the house activities. She had to be home at 5:00 due to the shortened December days. Oh how she missed summer.

“Yeah. I’ll be back before dark.” She walked over to Miranda and grabbed a few of the massive grocery bags stored under the table. “Any requests before I head out?”

“Fruit. But get water with it. I dont like the sugary concoction that slathers the stuff.”

“Canned fruit, got it.” Andy sighed and to her own surprise leaned over and gave Miranda a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

Miranda froze, not looking displeased but a bit surprised as did Andy. She smiled and awkwardly said, “I’ll be back in two hours tops, okay?”

Miranda made a noise of approval and as Andrea was leaving the older woman piped up.

“Andrea?”

“Hm?” She turned on her heels to face Miranda.

“Be safe. I love you.”

Andy stared at Miranda in disbelief, “..I love you too.” She finally sputtered, the editor smiled and nodded before turning down the hall, most likely to go nap.

Andy was shocked, Miranda loved her?? Miranda Priestly loved her?! Maybe she was looking too much into it.. She might mean it as platonic love.. But still, the words made Andys heart skip a beat.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

I hope you enjoyed! Again, sorry for the wait

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lionydoorin · 11 months

Note

I'm now humbly requesting angsty Tara headcanons

now we're talking >:)

cw gonna talk about substance abuse and some disturbing thoughts here !

we need to talk more about post-5/pre-6 tara and her recovery process. the legacy killing happened in late september, so from what i know the 2022 school year had just started. tara and sam move in with the meeks-martin's for the rest of tara, chad and mindy's school year. they take two to three months to get back to school, still recovering from their injuries and having to deal with pitiful looks from their peers. tara absolutely despises it.

because the looks her classmates give her are haunting. they seem scared, imagining what she'd been through. they absolutely won't talk when she's nearby. they'll open up hallways, stare at her from their lockers. it just makes her grip on her crutch tighten and she just wants to look at someone and yell at them.

her senior year experience is what makes her hate the whole situation the most. it's what makes her yearn for the normalcy she'll never have the most, as well.

she lashes out during their lunch break, once, when she hears two girls whispering about them. tara turns to yell and tell them to shut up, to mind their own business, because she's just so fucking tired of them and their fake pity and whatever the fuck they think of them. they're not only survivors, for fuck's sake, they are people and they should treat them as such.

mindy and chad help her out of the cafeteria before she can hit them with her crutches. she sobs onto their chest for at least an hour before martha is there to pick them up. when she gets home, sam welcomes her with a warm embrace, telling her it's fine, that she can let it all out.

she's so wary of new people after 6 as well. her trust issues reach its peak. tara was already the worst at letting other people in, but knowing that, at any moment, someone new might be a masked killer trying to take her and her loved ones down?

it makes the classes that she doesn't share with chad and mindy so lonely.

she feels lonely most of the time. it's hard to smile when everything reminds her of everything she's been through.

with rapid weather changes, tara's injuries bother her a lot. rainy days are the worst, and she skips class a lot on winter. she relies on painkillers a lot to keep her going; they're not enough. they're never enough.

the stronger ones were off the chart after sam found out she got a bit of an addiction to roxanol.

having been through terrible things makes her mind wander to intrusive, disturbing thoughts a lot. she imagines what it would be like to be murdered anywhere she goes, how ghostface could crack her body, cut her into tiny pieces and leave its parts there to be found by someone. after the bodega episode, she thinks of people she doesn't even know dying a lot, as well. tara has panic attacks and has to leave class early constantly.

nightmares. constant nightmares. she sees amber a lot, sees her disfigured figure, remembers the night she first got attacked and wakes up to her leg hurting more than ever. sometimes, her mind plays the moment she stabbed ethan again, and again, and again, reminding her that she's a monster, because no normal person would do something like this.

she's not normal. she'll never be normal. she'll always be this empty shell, this dead girl walking.

tara thinks about it a lot. how she could've been dead. how, maybe, it would be better for everyone if she was.

#i LOVE the evil version of the memes maxie keep it up.#ask #autism swagger #tara carpenter #scream #ma talks scream

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bambikisss · 2 years

Text

Suits: 1

-> Being a CEO of a big company has its perks, except for meeting the one. After you sign up for a dating app for the elite 1 percent, you match with someone who is just as rich as you. Is love truly in the cards for you both?

CEO!JAYB X CEO!READER

Smut warnings: Spit, bitting, slight bondage, slight breeding kink, marking, etc. Rough to Passionate.

"You joined a dating site to not match with anyone?" He asked, taking a sip of his champagne as he listened to you try to explain why you joined, cutting you off as he leaned closer to you, his mint breath gracing your cheek as he made his way to your ear. "So, you don't want me then, Y/N?"

R/N: Random Name.

Love, to some, is a luxury.

Love takes time, energy, and attention. All things that you could afford to give away to anything else but work.

"Ms. L/N, come on. The investors are on line 4 and are desperate to talk to you. Are you sure you can't arrive to this meeting late?" You shook your head as your secretary followed behind you, her own heels trying hard to keep up with your own as you continued to make your way to the meeting you had put off for about a month. You could afford to reschedule this meeting as you had rain-checked them three times already. You turned around to face your secretary, smiling softly as you fixed your outfit. "You've worked for me for far too long to not know how to tell whether or not the investment is good. I'm trusting you to figure it out. Don't disappoint me, R/N. Also, make sure no one contacts me while I'm in this meeting and for two hours after as I can tell I am going to need lunch after this."

You were the CEO of a top entertainment company. You had some of the top stars in the industry underneath you, along with a sub-skin care brand, a clothing line, and you started to dip into cosmetics. You had your foot basically on everyone's necks in every industry you joined.

"Good Afternoon, gentlemen.'' You smiled as you entered the room, shaking hands with the men who were around the room before one ushered over a man wearing a dark blue suit. "This is our CEO: Nam Jikhoon." You shook his hand, ushering for him to take a seat as you thanked him for waiting through the many rain checks. He waved it off before turning and sliding over his business card. "I think it's time we talk business, don't you think Ms. L/N?"

__________________

"He wants 20 percent of the company."

You leaned back as your secretary stared back at you in disbelief. "He brought nothing to the table other than his film company. It may be one of the best, it isn't on top." You sipped your wine as your secretary handed you the file she had on the company, shaking her head. "I can't belive he wasted your time three times for something that could've been a quick no over the phone."

"Be nice, R/N. This job is all about getting connections and maintaining them. You need to learn that if you ever want to have your own company. Now, I wish to eat lunch in silence." You winked at her as she left the room, returning your attention to your wine and salad.

You were mid-way through your salad when your phone began to ring, annoying you as you wanted to be left alone while you ate. Your annoyance left your body when you heard the voice. "Good Afternoon, Ms. Y/N. I assume you're having a busy day by the tone of your voice."

"Not anymore, Mrs. Lee. Have you found anyone who matched with me?" While you were busy with your job, you wanted to make an attempt at finding love.

So, you joined a match-making service for the elite: all the top rich people making up the 1 percent. You had a few people vying for you after rumors spread that you were a black card member (top member), but you didn't like any of them.

"Besides Mr. Jikhoon, who you rejected not only on the app, but in person today during your meeting?"

You scoffed as you drank some wine, swirling the wine as you remembered his poor attempt at trying to ask you out on a date with his entourage by his side. You also remembered his face falling after you rejected him in front of all of his entourage.

"Besides him, there is the only other black card holder who joined this morning." You perked up, sitting up as that had gotten your attention. To have a black card, you had to have large enough earnings and have a specific set of guidelines. Basically, you have to be filthy rich.

"I guess I caught your interest. I will set up a dinner for the two of you to meet tonight, so clear your schedule and wear your best." You nodded, placing the now empty wine glass down, and called your secretary back into the office. "Clear my schedule after 4. I have a date."

The date was at a very exclusive restaurant in Seoul, which only allowed certain people in. Call it posh, but it was for the security of the rich people who they let in from the media.

You fixed your dress as you stood in the elevator, going to the top floor. You had to admit, for the first time in a while that you felt nervous. You bit your bottom lip as the elevator reached the floor, opening to show a velvet and romantic-themed dining room, tables spaced out to various areas filled with top stars and politicians. You followed the waitress to a secluded corner, ignoring the eyes of people who watched you. You didn't care whether it was from envy or from who you were being led to sit with, choosing to focus on the man who was making your heart race.

When you reached the table, you mentally thanked Mrs.Lee for her pick. At the table sat a man wearing a red suit with a sheer shirt underneath. His hair was a bit messy but in a neat way that you wanted to run your hands through his hair. As you sat down, you noticed the man's eyes slowly rake up your body to make eye contact with him. He took a sip of his drink as the jazz in the background slowly became white noise as you both made eye contact. It felt electric. You both couldn't rip your eyes from one another, finding not only comfort but lust in each other.

"So this is the famous other black card holder? Pretty." His voice was deep and gravelly as eyed you, making you feel like you wanted to hide in your chair. "Same here. You look amazing Mr-" "Lim. Let's just keep this first meeting to a last-name basis."

Okay, that's fine.

"Alright, Mr. Lim. You look amazing."

"So do you, Ms. L/N. Mrs.Lee worked her magic."

You wondered how his small compliment made your heart race and your cheeks become hot. He had such an effect on you, yet, you both had just met.

That seemed to be the feeling all throughout the date. Small compliments from the other that made you both blush and made the lust that you both tried to hide come to the surface slowly. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, even when his hand held yours, then trailed up your arm to your shoulder, and then to cup your cheek. You cursed softly as goosebumps appeared in his wake, a smirk coming to his lips at it. When you did the same to him, his eyes darkened instead. He bit your thumb before he cursed lowly, leaning back to quickly place a wad of cash onto the table before ushering you to the private bathrooms as he couldn't sit through a car ride; he had to have you right then and there and if it took having sex in a bathroom at an expensive restaurant, then so be it.

He kissed you as he locked the door behind you both, your lips fitting together as he took off your gloves, then removed your dress. He kissed around your neck feverishly, biting you when you began to remove his own suit, making you whine. As you finally got all of his clothes off, his lips left your body to pin you to the wall again, picking you up to wrap your legs around him.

"So sweet baby, letting me take you to the bathroom like this," He whispered into your ear, biting your neck again as he pushed into you. He gave you no warning as he began moving his hips, moaning against your neck as you clenched around him. You ran your hands through his hair, whining as he moved faster.

You had one-night stands before, most ending with an unsatisfying climax, but with the man who was currently cursing and moaning as if his life depended on it, you were sure it was going to have a satisfying end. He tossed his head back to finally meet your gaze, his tongue moving out to wet his dry lips as he panted, his fingers digging into your thighs. "You're so tight, baby. Clutching me like I'm gonna leave you before you cum all over my cock," He hissed as his jaw tightened, kissing you once more, his hips rolling to hers, making you both groan into the kiss.

As he picked up the pace once more, you let your head fall back as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, moaning as you tightened once more, finally cuming as he picked you up, fucking you into the air. He gave you a moment to calm down before dropping to his knees, placing you onto his shoulders as his tongue shoved into you, cleaning you hungrily, making you dig your nails into his shoulders and tug on his hair, the man's eyes looking up at you as he cleaned you before tossing his head back, roughly spitting back onto you before going back in. "Taste so fucking good. Why the fuck do you taste so fucking good, goddam," he asked roughly, kissing up your body before turning you around to face the wall, pushing back into you before kissing your shoulder, moving his hips roughly, snapping into you every time you cursed, which was every time you moaned, which was good for the both for you.

Mr. Lim kept you coming.

Multiple times.

He fucked you around the expensive bathroom, not giving a shit if anyone heard you two or came in on you both. He had to have you constantly screaming on his cock, and then on his face. By the time he had come once, you had come almost six times.

As you calmed down, he held you against his chest as he leaned you both against the sink. He ushered for you to look up at the mirror, chuckling at both of your disheveled appearances and slightly foggy mirror. He leaned forward to draw a cat on it, chuckling as you did the same with a bunny. You found the moment adorable, despite how you both were just fucking like rabbits.

He kissed your shoulder before gathering your clothes, placing them on the counter next to you before putting on his own, you both turned around when your phone rang. You opened your purse to see your driver calling you, asking if you were ready to leave as the restaurant was about to close. You nodded, telling him that you were on your way out now before hanging up.

"Gonna leave me, Cinderella?" Mr.Lim asked, wrapping his arms around you to kiss your cheek, making you lean back into him. You nodded, smiling as he put on your gloves, pulling them up your arm carefully before he handed you a card with his number on it, the front being his business card. You decided to look it up later, patting his suit pocket before walking out of the steamy bathroom, leaving the man speechless and now more interested in you.

As you got into the backseat, you looked at the card the man had given you, smirking at his name.

"Nice to meet you, Lim Jaebeom"

Jae arrived at his own car a few moments after you had left, sighing as he told his driver to take him home. He was honestly tired, tossing his head back to rest on the seat as his mind flashed back to you. You, your body, the beautiful sounds you made- his mind replayed the whole interaction in his mind.

As he felt himself smirk, he reached into his pocket to try and find a piece of gum, only to be met with your panties that you had slipped in there at some point during the makeout session. He bit his lip, asking his driver to drive faster, needing to go home fast to deal with his problem that was now becoming painful.

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

"Alright, Ms. L/N. Today you have one meeting with the CEO of a popular fashion, music, and art brand. He should be sitting in your office waiting for you." You sighed as you thanked your secretary, tired as you wanted to just kick your heels off and relax before the next company meeting that you had to fly out for.

"Ah, nice to see you again, Ms. L/N." You gripped the doorknob as you turned to face Jaebeom, who was leaning against your desk with some wine you had on your desk now in his hand, a smirk on his lips.

"Do you have a moment?"

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