#//office meetings and dinner parties [Memes] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegoddessprose · 10 months ago

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After all my yapping about Chiasa and Plutarch, I thought I'd finally put my money where my mouth is and post a fic. This is something I wrote a little while ago, albeit with a few edits. It's a 5+1 rather than a sophisticated backstory (That might come later, once my Tigris fic on AO3 is at least on hiatus), but I'm hoping it'll give a little more insight than the memes :p

Yes, @plutarchheavensbee you can share, I did promise

Without further ado, enjoy

TW: References to past substance abuse, victor prostitution, grief, slightly NSFW but nothing graphic

Five Things That Fascinated Plutarch about Chiasa and One Thing That Made Him Realize He Loved Her.

1. Her Eyes

Simple decorum had forced Plutarch to learn that Chiasa's eyes were a nice shade of icy blue and not much else. They say that eyes are the window to the soul, but he initially didn't bother looking in. His initial impression of her was pretty and overall harmless, but nothing else, and that remained for years.

That was, until this past yuletide night, when he'd taken it upon himself to smuggle a fellow rebel and refugee to the edge of the Capitol. Of course she'd be at the party that acted as the rendezvous point; Chiasa's beloved nephew, Marcus, who also happened to be his protégé played the host. What he didn't expect was her rolling up her sleeves to help, offering to use her fashion know-how to disguise refugees. He certainly didn't expect to have Fulvia poke her head into his office the next day to say Chiasa was on the line and seemed troubled. He most definitely didn't expect for her to break down in his home the next day, revealing decades of pent-up anger toward the Capitol and guilt for only reaching out now. Obviously, there was a lot more to the woman than he initially thought.

He'd invited her again two days later for a more lighthearted visit, simply wanting to know how much he was wrong about... Of course, he had to study up, remember what he'd initially noted and compare notes. Tigris was friends with her and had often said she took a lot after her father (Thankfully...) While Plutarch had never met the late Senator Lapin personally before he was assassinated, there was a lot of information on him in the rebel archives; photos, footage, speeches, letters to Tigris, anything he needed. Her father's eyes were the same shade of blue and his gaze was admittedly disarming, but without a lot of spark. He'd heard it was because he wasn't as bright, but Tigris loved to wistfully say that the kindness in his eyes was real, a rarity for a Capitolite.

Chiasa's mother was a different story... Plutarch knew Seiko better as his predecessor and mentor. She was a cold and calculating woman, and her eyes reflected that well. Dark brown, almost black, like voids, he recalled. On a good day, he remembered seeing little sparks of determination. On a bad day, they resembled black holes; icy pools of nothing sucking out the soul of any poor sap that pissed her off... Occasionally, he was said poor sap.

Chiasa was both distinct and similar to her parents. Through the glassiness during their last meeting, he saw a familiar darkness when she expressed her anger; a supernova rather than a black hole, but he was somewhat frightened nonetheless. Today, with a better view, he saw the warmth and kindness of her father. Yet... There was a certain weatheredness about her, one he'd seen among his elders and even in his own mirror. Sure, she'd taken a couple of decades off her appearance, but there was no doubt of her true age in her eyes. It was clear she'd seen so much, so many historical events, so much pain and suffering that she felt powerless to stop.

"Plutarch?" she asked, snapping him out of his analysis.

"Yes?"

"You'd said I'd be able to stay for dinner, right? I really like talking with you," she said.

For once, he had nothing going on. It had been a while since he'd dined with anyone outside of obligation. A lot of his real friends were dead, busy, in hiding, or outside of the Capitol.

"I did say that..." he replied, "And the feeling is mutual."

Her eyes lit up at his acceptance and just like that, she'd shed about twenty years off her lifetime. While Chiasa was known in a lot of circles to be the life of the party, he couldn't remember if he'd seen this kind of pure joy from her. Maybe he should be flattered that he evoked such a feeling out of her. He certainly felt the heat rising in his cheeks at the thought, and all hope of her not notcing was shattered by her rather melodic giggle.

"Why Plutarch, you're awfully cute when you blush," she complimented.

As if that wouldn't make him blush even more...

2. Her Confidence

Most people who knew of Chiasa Lapin knew she had a bit of a... reputation. Sadly, that was par for the course for women like her who never married and just dated around. Plutarch should have expected certain things out of her, but he was quickly reminded that hearing about something and actually experiencing it were two different things.

As much as he liked planning for all possibilities, Plutarch didn't expect her invitation to her New Year's Eve party would end with them kissing in her room away from the masses. Neither of them had that much to drink, nor were they lightweights. She knew exactly what she wanted when she proposed the reigning in tradition. He wasn't sure what possessed him to accept sp easily; perhaps it was how she looked in that handmade red floral kimono and her dark hair elegantly pinned up, as if she stepped out of an ancient painting. Maybe it was scientific curiosity. It was logical to assume with all her experience, she had to be good. For the record, she was... Not a lot of kisses in his lifetime had him still thinking about her and longing for days.

Then again, perhaps it was how she wasn't afraid to go for what she wanted. The meeker ladies weren't really Plutarch's taste, agreeing with him rather than standing by what they wanted, he wanted substance. Chiasa had quickly proven not to be like them. During their second kiss, he'd felt her try to climb onto his lap. Maybe they could have taken things further if her harpy of a sister didn't knock and interrupt. Even when he left, she wished him sweet dreams of all thing. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, how frustrated he'd be that night.

It was cunning of her to offer to make him something, that way, he didn't need to come up with any excuses for her to come over again, or shoo away rumor mongers. Although... she'd outright admitted she'd wanted to spend more time with him. Her subtlety needed work... Although that could have just been more of her confidence shining through, as it certainly did when she finally visited again.

When working with a new designer, measurements were an early order of business. Chiasa opted for an old fashioned measuring tape for a more intimate experience. He sure was wise to the lingering touches on his waist, chest, and arms as well as her warm breath on the back of his neck. He was a gentleman... He couldn't bring himself to have his way with her immediately. That mini skirt and plunging red top didn't help things either...

If her mother was alive, she would have gutted him for thinking like this about her "ignorant" daughter... But Seiko wasn't here, nor did she have power over him anymore. She'd be absolutely furious at how he'd laid a hand on Chiasa and not be able to do anything about it... And there was that scientific curiosity once again. It wasn't just her kissing skills that had Chiasa infamous... He just had to know what was fact or fiction.

It was still up to Chiasa in the end, and thankfully, she caught the smirk forming on his face as she faced him.

"You know, Plutarch..." she purred, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"What a coincidence," he couldn't help but tease as he ran a hand through her hair, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either."

She leaned in closer and smirked back at him.

"Really now.... I've been thinking about what could have been... What could have happened if we weren't so rudely interrupted, just wondering a few things, " she whispered, "Would we have stayed as we were? Or would you have been on top of me? Would we want to savor each other, really explore each other, or would you want it fast and rough? Would you use that beautiful voice to moan, growl... Both?"

She brushed her lips against his neck and he managed to stifle a moan. Damn was she brazen... He felt his own hand moving down her back, but he stopped himself at her waist.

"No need to stop..." she encouraged, "You've helped me so much over the past few days... But you seem so stressed and lonely too. Trust me... I know a lot of ways to soothe a man... I always thought you were attractive, but being a rebel... Well, that's even hotter."

Plutarch had to admit, it was refreshing to hear an authority on beauty praise his "natural" appearance over the eldrich enhancements of the Capitol masses. He was right where he wanted... This fascinating woman in his arms, one that would make his late mentor scream up at him from hell, one that was practically begging him to take her and make her his... Wait.

"I have been looking for some relief, and company..." he replied, "But you should know, I don't have the time or space for a long term commitment right now."

Chiasa held back a laugh and teasingly pecked his lips. "Who said anything about commitment? I just want to have a little fun..."

"Well... Fun is my job, after all."

There. A bullshit free proposition, just as he liked them, and a hallmark of mature women like her. Yet at the same time, she didn't dress her age, nor look it, nor certain screw like a woman her age. She certainly had nothing to be ashamed of when she'd draped herself on her side to face them after they'd finished. Having spent her youthful years in the 20s ADD, it wasn't hard to imagine her taking a puff from a cigarette or joint to recover. That satisfaction and fire in her eyes, however, was all reality.

"Well, well... You've been holding out on me, Heavensbee," she purred.

Plutarch really shouldn't have blushed again, certainly not after what just transpired, but was it ever worth it to hear that giggle again. Chiasa was right all along, he did feel more relaxed than he ever had the past few months.

"Aww, you have nothing to be embarrassed about... Believe me," she added, reaching over to stroke his arm.

"It's been a while..." he admitted, "I forgot what this felt like."

"You'd have to have been busy," she concluded, "I'm surprised more people aren't throwing themselves at you... I'm definitely here for a good time, and we've established I have no concealed weapons, or wires... You were very thorough in your search."

Ugh, a line taken straight from his dreams.

"We have to do this again sometime," he replied with a smirk.

They came up with a certain arrangement; Chiasa would get a burner so they could communicate undetected, no feelings or other complications neither had time for, they'd fool around and talk to sate each other's stress and loneliness. Simple enough... Both had similar arrangements with others in the past without issues. It should have been that simple...

3. Her Stories

Plutarch was a known history buff; even when he was simply Seiko’s right hand man, one of his favorite duties was curation. The rebel archive had more banned documents, pictures, films, and stories than the secret government archive could hope for. He could spend hours just reading and watching the past.

The only thing better than studying was talking to real people about their experiences. The Capitol's history books were to be taken with a grain of salt, being mostly propaganda. Many of Plutarch's elders were amused by his curiosity about the past, but were nonetheless happy to share a few tales, and Chiasa, being a fair bit older than him, was no exception.

Maybe it was a little different... She was certainly the first to lounge on his bed in a negligee at most while sipping coffee or giving him a scalp massage while telling him stories. Even though she was younger than the likes of Tigris and Seiko, she brought a unique perspective of the ineffable postwar Dark Days. She spoke of her beloved father's service, and confirmed Tigris's assurances that Seiko was a different person back then, and before her sister became such an insufferable gossip. There was one story in particular that made him chuckle, one that involved one of his more insufferable relatives...

"So... You kicked him?" he confirmed, "You kicked Uncle Hilarius in the shin?"

"I was only a kid," she defended, "And he was sure Lucy Gray wouldn't survive because she was a small girl... Emphasis on the girl part. My parents agreed with me that he should have kept his mouth shut, but I still had to be punished..."

"Well... Knowing him, he probably deserved it," he said.

What a time to be alive in that controversial year, and still have the wonder of childhood. What an opportunity to hear about it... Tigris and Seiko had a more mature perspective, and it was impossible to get anything out of President Snow.

As time went on, Chiasa's stories became more vulnerable, and Plutarch remembered an important life lesson. Growing up patrician and joining the rebels had taught him that not everything was as it seemed. During her early years as a stylist, that "mental breakdown" was actually a stint in rehab to kick a party drug habit. She'd started using to cope with her guilt regarding her tributes, but had been encouraged to get help when she found out she was pregnant with her first child. Thankfully, she'd been clean for a long time, but still carried little candies in her purse in case she ever got the urge again.

Another of her stories was the real paternity of her second child, her son. It was a closely guarded secret, and Plutarch felt a sense of pride that she trusted him this much. It was one of her victors, Link Zhou, a now older man from District 3. Plutarch recalled him as one of the first male victors to be sold, and she couldn't even look him in the eye when she told him the story. Chiasa was Link's stylist, and her relief at a living tribute faded when she found out what they were going to do to him. She'd bid to be his first and it was all kosher; Link had a crush on her and he was of age, yet she still felt like she'd violated him. She felt she couldn't give up her son in any way, and thankfully her reputation with men saved them all from any suspicion.

He heard her sobbing as she'd finished, still facing away from him. He turned her, and her tears and pained expression broke his heart... She would have made a damn good agent if she'd joined up. When it came to her addiction, she was regretful, but matter of fact. Now, however, she was ashamed to even exist.

"I... I thought you'd be disgusted with me," she whispered.

He found himself wiping her tears away and wrapped her in an embrace.

"No... You did what you thought was right for the both of them, even if the law said otherwise. That's very noble," he said, "Hell, I think it would be rich of me of all people to judge you for doing something you regret for the greater good."

It was true... There were certain aspects of his plans that he didn't take pleasure in, but nonetheless, they had to be considered and done. His personal feelings often didn't matter.

Speaking of feelings... He couldn't let go of her that night. Chiasa's ceasing her crying and easing herself so quickly in his arms had him feeling some type of way... Like important? Like a hero? When he'd initially guessed that her son's father was some abusive asshole, he was ready to ruin that hypothetical man's life in a second. Protecting her used to be a simple means to an end; to avoid a needless casualty at his expense, and for Marcus's sake... He wouldn't be too happy with his beloved aunt in danger. Now, though... the thought of Chiasa being hurt or in distress caused Plutarch real pain. She didn't deserve that... Logically, she'd been through too much.

"Plutarch... Thank you," she murmured, "You're really, truly... such a wonderful man..."

Damn... He was used to being compliments on his achievements, but coming from her... He didn't know his heart was capable of swelling like that. It had to be because she meant it instead of just trying to kiss his ass... It had to be.

4. Her Wisdom

Naturally, Plutarch was a thinker. People had described him as brilliant, and they'd be right. Chiasa might not have been an intellectual like him, but she was so much more than Seiko and the general public made her out to be. Then again, if anyone reached her age or had her experiences without learning a thing, they'd be an idiot. She was so much more stimulating than the average Capitolite, and not just in the physical way.

One day, as Chiasa placed her hand over his, Plutarch couldn't help but notice her nails. They were red and gold, as the current trends, but the gold designs were inconsistent. Actually, he could have sworn that they were simply red and chipped the last time they were together, and the gold seemed to fill in the gaps.

"Didn't take you for a hand guy, Plutarch," she teased.

"No, I'm just curious about these... Is this some kind of abstract art?"

She smiled sheepishly, then moved her gaze to their now entwined hands.

"Are you familiar with the practice of kintsugi?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied, "Your mother taught me a few words of your old tongue, but I'm not familiar with that one."

"Well... It's the practice of repairing ceramics with gold," she explained, "I like to think of it as a metaphor... We all have flaws, we've all known hard times, but they make us all the more beautiful."

How true... The cookie cutter perfection the Capitol pushed was unattainable, and people who thought they achieved it were liars or at least still highly flawed. Actually, it worked for Panem as a whole. The Districts were beautiful in their adversity and strength. Then there was Chiasa, who persevered through her rough patches, making her into the woman he... was fascinated by.

"Sounds like someone I know," he teased, squeezing her hand.

"I guess..." she replied, blushing a little, "It's always been comforting to me. With everything going on, it was a reminder that I'd come back better. I drew and painted with it as an inspiration. When Daddy died, my first collection afterward was centered around it. Hell, I considered a tattoo a few times, but then I'd have to coordinate outfits around it.

What an interesting idea... Although she was beautiful as she was, it would sure make a statement, even as something temporary, even just makeup. There weren't a lot of visible scars on her body for him to trace; most of them were in her mind. Good enough....

He kissed her forehead and murmured, "In all seriousness, that's a beautiful way of thinking."

Chiasa shut her eyes and let out a contented sigh. However, she wasn't quite done philosophizing yet. She let go of his hand and cupped his face, flashing an alluring, yet sincere smile.

"Plutarch, have I ever told you why I think you're handsome?"

Maybe she'd said a few things in the moment, but it was always hard to tell if anything stuck in that state.

"Because you look like a person," she said, "A real person, not anything they're trying to sell. That boyish grin of yours, your salt and paprika hair... All you, all beautiful."

She paused to rest her forehead against his, evoking said grin until she went in for a brief kiss before continuing.

"Maybe I'm a hypocrite... It's not purely genes that have me looking and thriving this way. But... I don't know. Maybe it's a reflection of you as a person. You're not trying so hard to fit in, you're unapologetic and comfortable in your own skin without being obnoxious about it. I love seeing that in people... Especially men."

She was simply stating a fact. Women like her didn't have time for insecure man-children. She still had a way of complimenting him that caught him off guard. He simply wasn't used to a beautiful woman gushing about how attractive his quiet confidence and idealism were.

"Chiasa, that's... very observant, very kind," he managed.

She giggled. "Well, okay, maybe there are some shallow things too... Everyone knows bigger guys like you are better to lay with... And just better in bed altogether. And I just love freckles... I'm going to sound so cliche, but they're like little stars that just happen to adorn people instead of the sky."

She proceeded to pepper kisses across his cheeks and nose before moving to his chin and jaw, then down his neck.

"Chiasa... What are you doing?"

"I want to kiss all your freckles..."

"Well... It's a good thing we have all night."

The experience was strangely intimate and vulnerable, despite them being familiar with each other by then. Maybe it was how it all tied in... How something perceived as a flaw made him all the more beautiful.

5. Her Joie de Vivre

Idealism was Plutarch's, well, ideal, but cynicism was reality. With all the good he wanted to do, he still lost people, things still went wrong, and sometimes, it was hard to even find joy in the little things. While Chiasa was a cynic in her own way, it was a survival mechanism more than anything. Still, she was so much better at living in the moment. It was all she could do to cope with the world.

The Groundbreaking used to be a patriotic occasion to celebrate the powering of a new arena. Nowadays, it was Gamemaker Mardi Gras; one last day of letting loose before getting to work. Admittedly, he'd always wanted to throw the themed party, an honor reserved for the Head Gamemaker, and "Retro" made sense with the rise of rationing. At least his older colleagues were excited... As was Chiasa. She'd recycled an old, very sheer dress from the second Quarter Quell and adorned herself in glitter as they'd done in the twenties. She was teasing him on purpose...

It wasn't until after the bash that the real fun began. As fun as hosting was at times, it could be exhausting... The leftover confetti and empty glasses almost looked depressing in the blacklight until he felt Chiasa's hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, she ran her hands down his lapels... Of course he couldn't resist wearing her special creation: a jacket decorated in a forties style brocade pattern with extra pockets, simply to be thoughtful. Normally, they were gold to fit the current trends, but she used a special dye to make the patterns appear his favorite shade of purple under blacklight.

"You're looking gorgeous tonight," she purred, "If I do say so myself."

He was quick to pull her into an embrace. "And what were you thinking with that dress... What was your plan? To torture me with our dirty little secret? Having all those other men vying for a dance or drink or more?

"Too bad for them, it was always going to be you at the end of the night," she said, kissing his neck, "Actually... We never had a proper dance, did we? At least now... We don't have to be so formal with each other."

As much as it staved off suspicion, one dance couldn't hurt. Now was a better setting than the party anyway. He started to get in position for a waltz before she stopped him.

"I told you we don't have to be formal, sweetie... That's what a waltz is. I've always enjoyed the rhumba... Less stiff, more sensual."

"I haven't done that since my twenties," he replied sheepishly, "And even then I wasn't that good."

"Aww, that's okay," she reassured him, "It's just us right now. Besides... I know what those hips are capable of... I'm sure if you put your mind to it, you can."

Plutarch was still awful, but it didn't seem to matter to Chiasa. She matched his exaggerated moves and they were soon laughing together. How he needed this, how wonderful life seemed when she was with him... When he easily dipped her and they met in a kiss before heading to his bedroom.

District 13, while a refuge, was a dreary place. No color, no fun, no culture... No Chiasa. Not that he was demotivated, in fact, quelling her worries and tears only gave him more reason to work toward a free Panem. It didn't make him miss her any less, and regret less about not fighting harder to take her with him.

"You know what I miss the most?" he'd said to Katniss one day.

He recalled one lazy, stormy morning, when Chiasa was able to stay for breakfast. It was nothing fancy; eggs over easy for him, poached for her, and toast and coffee for both. Chiasa was in a silk nightgown and curled up on his lap, while he was in a robe that used to gather dust as well as the glasses he barely wore in public. They were simply enjoying each other's company and watching the storm unfold.

Chiasa gasped as a bolt of lightning struck a building in the distance. "It's amazing how something so destructive, dangerous, powerful... can be so beautiful."

"That's just nature, Chiasa," he said, "Believe me, I know a lot about it..."

It would be even more beautiful when it signaled the start of the revolution... Maybe she'd always remember it that way.

"Yes, and how the rain can cause so many problems, but gives life, and makes a lovely sound," she said, "And that smell after a storm..."

"Petrichor."

"Oooh... I didn't know there was a word for it."

He snuck a look at her as she watched the storm go on. Why was she so damned beautiful when she was fascinated... Somehow, she'd grown even more attractive since their initial meeting. Perhaps it was her words, her artist's or wise mind.

"What?" she teased.

Plutarch was saved by a loud clap of thunder that had the pair clinging to each other.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," he said.

"I'M protecting YOU," she teased.

They met for a kiss. They had coffee breath, but it didn't matter.... It made the moment feel real.

"Plutarch?" Katniss interrupted, "What did you miss?"

Right, Plutarch was still in District 13, and he'd forgotten that Katniss and Marcus were in the room with him. He couldn't tell the truth in front of him... Not while they were stuck together in a bunker anyway.

"Coffee," Plutarch half lied.

Katniss seemed to believe him, but Marcus was skeptical as they both left for the next item on their schedule.

"No, really, what do you miss?" the boy asked, "Nobody's wistful about coffee in the afternoon."

"Let's get back to work, shall we?" Plutarch deflected.

Marcus rolled his eyes, but didn't ask any more. However, though, he seemed to try to elicit something out of him.

"If it matters, I miss my auntie," he said, "Even if the lack of color would have given her a stroke."

Plutarch nodded, seemingly in acknowledgement, but actually in agreement. Chiasa would have found a way to brighten things up. He knew very well the real reason he missed her....

1. Her Kindness

True kindness was a rarity in the Capitol. Nobody was ever just "nice," they always had to want something. Many were simply fair weather, disappearing the moment life got tough. Only a handful of people he knew were kind, many of him his allies... Others just naive. Then there was Chiasa, who was neither an active rebel nor naive about the world.

It should have been a simple arrangement... Chiasa didn't outright say she wanted more, and she was the type to do so. It was nearly summer when he admitted it to himself, and he needed to seek advice from the one person who'd understand and not tease him, Tigris.

He'd kept her filled in on how things were going, as she was a mutual friend and Chiasa would be saved the trouble of coming up with a lie. But now, he told her the whole story, and she only sighed and shook her head with a smile.

"It gets you, that kind of heart," said Tigris, "I know... When you've lived a life full of expectations and without love, that one person who shows you compassion, thinks you're a person worth knowing and loving. You know... Her father was the same way."

That was why Tigris was the best person to ask... She'd had a secret relationship with Tak Lapin before he was killed, that Seiko had allowed. Tigris was right... Every step of the way, Chiasa wanted to know him, and allowed herself to be vulnerable... Allowed him to be vulnerable.

When Plutarch was feeling the loss of an old friend, and couldn't contain himself any longer, she let him have a rare cry on her shoulder, no ridicule, no begging him to be strong. He was another human to her, another person to cherish and comfort. He remembered asking her why she showed him such unconditional care. It was only right, she'd said, that she cared about him.

The night of the interviews was their last opportunity to be together, and the chaos that Peeta caused with his "baby bomb" only helped her sneak over. Unfortunately, one final preparation had gone awry, and after getting socked in the jaw, he had to hunker down. Some of his other agents agreed to fix it, but he was feeling the weight of the pain... And the guilt of having to leave Chiasa behind.

The minute he'd shown himself, she ordered the remaining avox to fetch some ice and vinegar. The next thing he knew, he was on a sofa with her pressing ice against his jaw.

"Don't clench, you'll make it worse," she admonished, "What happened?"

"Mishap," he reassured her, "It'll be fixed.... You're still here."

"Of course I'm still here.... Do you not want me here?" she hesitantly asked.

"No, of course I want you here," he replied, "I'm... ah... I'm just wondering why you're still here... I'm leaving you, Chiasa, I can't believe you agreed."

"Oh, Plutarch...."

She embraced him with her free arm, sniffling, but trying to keep her composure.

"I know it's for a good cause... I know this is bigger than us, I.... I really admire you for this," she managed.

"I wish you could come with me..." he murmured, "I know you can help... I wish I could be sure you won't be in danger."

"I'm tougher than I look, honey... And I never blamed you, never ever. Oh, Plutarch... Just promise me you'll come back in one piece. You know I'll be right here...."

They sat in silence, just holding each other for what seemed like eternity. When he saw her face again, he thought he saw a few tear streaks down her made up face, but she quickly wiped them away.

"If you want to just hold each other tonight, that's okay..."

"No, Chiasa.... I don't know how long I'll be gone," he murmured, "I need to commit you to memory."

Even with his bruised jaw, that last night mind-blowing, both wanting to forget it would be the last... for a while if things went right. The next morning was pure agony; they'd stared at each other, almost daring each other to drop the L-bomb, but neither could. It didn't seem like the right time.... He was a damned idiot, it could have been another regret.

While Plutarch was kept busy and motivated, there were times when he'd miss her the most. The nights were the loneliest, when he'd wish for her to be waiting in his compartment, even just her reassuring voice. Then there was Finnick and Annie's wedding, when love was in the air. He'd gotten into it like most projects, but it felt different... Maybe he was projecting a little... But at least it made him surprisingly helpful with the vows. He had to focus during the final battle... It was crucial in capturing the Capitol, but he couldn't dare look to see if Chiasa was among the panicked masses.

The day of the execution was cathartic for everyone... Even though Coin was initially killed first. What did it matter, she was bad for the rest of Panem and he had a plan to get rid of her if Katniss hadn't taken action. Snow was finally dead, of course, and the era of suffering was over... Yes, there was still a lot of work to be done, but the people deserved to have their hope.

Of course, it was also the day he finally saw Chiasa again, on the steps of the presidential palace with Marcus. He'd certainly be in for a surprise, but he'd adjust... Plutarch did have a soft spot for the kid.

Within seconds, she was back in his arms. It didn't matter that there was more gray and silver in her hair than he remembered, and she was dressed down, he was just happy to be with her again. As was she, and from her very first words to him, he knew she had the same regrets.

"Plutarch… I love you!"

He wouldn't be an idiot this time.

"I love you too, Chiasa," he said, holding her tightly.

The future was bright… The revolution was successful, freedom was within reach, and he was finally going to shape a new world with her by his side. So it went… He didn't need to remain a confirmed bachelor to change the world; in his studies, most of the greats had their greatest loves by their side, and he would be no different. George had Martha. John had Abigail. James had Dolley. Winston had Clementine. Now, Plutarch had Chiasa.

#hunger games #thg fanverse #thg fanfiction #plutarch heavensbee #oc: chiasa lapin #plutarch x oc #chitarch #hunger games fanfiction #5 + 1 fic #actually posting my writing #here goes #thg oc #hunger games oc #heavensbadies #plutarch/oc

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uptonogoodindiememes · 4 months ago

Text

Modern Family Sentence Meme - Heavy Is the Head

“Finally bringing something into this world, I can be proud of,”

“I guess the spa day that I booked for you tomorrow came at the perfect time,”

“We’re in this to make money,”

“Happy birthday!”

“You said you were too busy at the office to celebrate, so I brought the celebration to you,”

“Oh, come on, you started without me?”

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t do anything either,”

“I got here as quick as I could, please tell me this is good news,”

“What’s the problem,”

“I’ve been working here for five years. I didn’t get this far by being stupid,”

“I’m thinking about having a little party at my place tonight,”

“If you pretend to be who people want you to be, you can have as many friends as you want,”

“Thank you for meeting with me,”

“Hey, it’s okay, we all come from messed up families,”

“You always hate my gifts, I don’t even know what I try,”

“Okay, this is crazy, I don’t need an MRI,”

“Let me do the talking,”

“I can probab;y stick around for a few more minutes,”

“Seriously, the roof? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“I just needed some space and some fresh air,”

“Please tell me that’s dinner, I’m starving,”

#open starter #roleplay meme #indie rp starter #roleplay starter #modern family #prongs

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fullregalia · 1 year ago

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bluebirds all day long.

For about seventeen people over about two weeks in mid-May, the phrase “I can get you one” was envy-inspiring. “One” being an invite code to Bluesky. And let’s be real here: solipsism is as solipsism does; a small fraction of extremely online people (see also: “dorks,” “losers,” “grad students,” “erstwhile bloggers”) is not the center of the material world, but it is an intermittently important corner of some worlds and some really important people used to also be extremely online. So here we all were, the last people at the dinner party, trying to figure out how to keep our little corners of the world somewhat intact.

It’s probably best to take a step back to before the noise about Bluesky went from static to signal and start from what brought me back to this blob, and why it was valuable for me before Twitter took over my life. To put it in relationship speak, Twitter has always been something of a companion these past 12(!) years, but recently I’ve realized it has devolved somewhat into codependency, and meeting a new platform only complicated matters. As in all matters of heartbreak, my love affair with Twitter devolved in two ways: gradually, and then suddenly.

Gradually, it came to hold a place in my brain, a perma-tab on my browser. If I search the blob, there are 15 results since 2010 for Twitter - and over the years I’ve circled the same themes: grappling with being adjacent to the NYC media circles, grappling with oversharing, grappling with the emotional energy and time I put into this ultimately frivolous and/or inane stuff. I’ve never put anything really real on any of these platforms because I try to live by the rule of thumb that you never type anything on social media that you wouldn’t want to see on the front page of the New York Times. (Believe it or not I actually do try to practice some discretion and delineate between the truly personal and the “this is good for laughs” self-deprecatory personal.) So I grappled with stuff On Here, and like the rest of the other people with too many opinions and not enough self-restraint, I threw all the rest at Twitter.

Back in 2010 when I got my first iPhone I remember “joking” that I’d never be alone again. I was really lonely the year I graduated college. I had friends, but I wanted a partner, someone to check in with throughout the day, and Twitter--in a sad but perhaps not singular to me kind of way--became that company when I didn’t have that person for many years. It was so compelling and so thrilling for so long, millions of people just posting id on main! My cousin once tweeted something about Shakespeare not being “relatable” and literal articles were written about it. About a dumb take! The content ouroboros must be satisfied. I remember on a very early date with the person I would eventually have a big, all-encompassing partnership with, we bonded over really getting hooked on Twitter during the marathon bombing manhunt. (He followed me the next day and the rest is history.)

But whatever that anecdote reveals about me, I think it also reveals something that was so special about Twitter for millions of lonely, bored, or just normal people who liked to share their thoughts: it was like opening the fridge, sometimes you did it just to see whats in there, other times you did it to truly make a meal, but most of the time you did it to sneak a snack. People weren’t logging on to simply promote their work, or make a joke to no audience, or post a selfie into the void; they were doing it for the little hearts, to make themselves laugh when they were hiding in the bathroom on a particularly brutal day at the office, to realize they aren’t the only one who wanted to talk about municipal tax rates. There was also schadenfreude, and mutable “expertise,” and the beauty of putting the indignities and absurdities of everyday life under a microscope, ready and willing to be memed to the point of exhaustion.

You all Get It already: for many years I was lonely and Twitter was the internet equivalent of “u up?” I suspect it was that for a lot of people too these past few years before things got back to normal-ish, too.

Suddenly, though, Matt Levine had to cancel every PTO day to write about 13D vs. 13G filings and people were grandstanding (didn’t you know the law of conservation of virtue signaling applies to platform-hopping?!) and now it’s all a lot Less Fun. Despite this (because of this?), I’ve posted away to my fewer than 150 followers, many of whom I actually know and am deeply grateful for. I pray I never go viral over an asinine comment like “Kids writing 80085 on their calculators? Not so much these days...” But I live alone again, and literally no one follows my fake instagram, so the little hearts began to take outsize importance.

As in all matters of heartbreak, this story also involves the foundation of our modern era: the DM slide. DMs are a sacred space and I will not divulge anything about them. Suffice to say, it was in the DMs where I found the “one” (the aforementioned one merely being an invite code to Bluesky). So I get this code and not only do I strike up a friendly convo with the person who shared it with me, but I also am an early adopter of “what if Twitter, but not as toxic.” Fast forward three months and it turns out Bluesky is a complicated place to be as a normie.

This is what I’m realizing about these places, and why they matter, but why they also are so frustrating: they flatten everything. I am not actually friends with the super-posters, I’m their freaking internet colleague. I’m a jock nod in the hallway between the pantry and the bathroom. I would characterize this critique of my own misreading of DM largesse not so much as me making parasocial projections as it is about the inherent difficulties of information asymmetry. I know a lot about people who are extremely online, and therefore care about them, and that is simply not, nor could be, a two-way street.

Normies like me have the bandwidth to care because we live on islands with 150 people. The 6 people who like my tweets? I know their really real stuff, they know my interests, we get drinks, we go back. And that’s why being on Bluesky is so disorienting. The super-posters get decent engagement, they don’t seem to care about over-posting (or sporadic posting) - it all gets the same stream of likes and comments (from their extremely online friends). I post my dumb shit and I’m lucky if the person I gave my invite code to shows it a little love. Which is the shitty truth at the bottom of all of this: it sucks feeling like the new kid in the 4th grade class. I don’t want to be an annoying person who says dumb stuff online for the sake of saying dumb stuff online, I actually value the hell out of those 6 people, because they make my world a little less flat.

So I’ve been doing whatever the behavioral equivalent of raising rates is so that I can cool down what the hell has been going on with my weird posting dependency. Being back on the blob is my liminal space between the worn-in comfort of Twitter and the uncomfortably tight feeling I get when I try on Bluesky (a platform where no one will ever understand my long running bit about “the concept of David Schwimmer”). I joked recently that I might just always be “in my eternal retvrn era,” but maybe my habits are just a flat circle, even if I don’t want my world to be. I started to use this space as a repository for the stuff I realized my friends didn’t want to get texts or emails about, or for thoughts that were too involved to fit in a tweet, and I think it’s the right time to re-direct my energy toward this platform that I’m less addicted to, but actually feel good about.

Ultimately, this whole posting angst thing spiraled out for me when I got that invite code and thought more of it than it was, that’s on me. But most importantly, it’s always a good time to remember that even if posting is free, so is staring at the sky.

#bluesky #twitter #extremely online problems #social media #posting #posting disease #but it really does suck when you think you're becoming friends with someone and they just stop talking to you!!!#the concept of david schwimmer is really funny when you think about it

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thorndale-industries · 6 years ago

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//First greyscale for ‘Send me a picture of an outfit/clothes you'd like to see on my muse, and I'll draw it!’ is done. Colours will be added within the next week.

#//queen to a new order [Gillian Thorndale]#//office meetings and dinner parties [Memes]

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taestefully-in-luv · 4 years ago

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Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

Previous----Next

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

“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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bapdaydreams · 3 years ago

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Masterlist

Group Reaction Masterlist

B.A.P As ______ Memes

OT6 Stories

BangHim family Christmas

Spider

Group Scenario/headcanons

Confessing to you

Pumpkin Patch

Beach Date

Roses from B.A.P

B.A.P Mafia AU SMUT

B.A.P as Uni students

B.A.P as your best friend

Cheating on B.A.P

B.A.P Cheating on You

Mutual Masturbation smut

B.A.P as your older brother

B.A.P as your butler

Walking with B.A.P

Mafia AU: Proposal

Tokyo Ghoul AU

Individual Scenarios

Yongguk

Yongguk Soul Mate AU

Yamazaki AU

Domestic Fluff

Trust Me / Alternative End / Alternative Ending, Another Ending

Breaking Up

Fluffy Home Date

Telling Him You Are Pregnant

Spending time with his family

Spring Day

Reminiscing

Shower smut

Babysitting

Stressed

Speak Spanish smut

BangUp Threesome SMUT

Coffee & Cuddles

Tattoos

Sunset Kisses

Cuddles

Timeless Cuddles

Attention SMUT

Heat SMUT

Waiting SMUT

Mafia AU: For You

Mirror SMUT

Touch SMUT

Comeback Home

Attention

Room Service SMUT Collection 1 / 2 / 3

Fight

Uni AU

First Kiss

Posessive SMUT

With A Drunk S/O

Mafia AU: Wedding

Happy Birthday

Daddy SMUT

Sleepless

Massage SMUT

Baby

Candlelight

Himchan (PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM NO LONGER WRITING FOR HIMCHAN)

Soul Mate AU

Breaking Up

Teasing SMUT

After Sex

Car SMUT

Cuddling

Babysitting

Boyfriend smut

Boyfriend smut 2

Thigh Riding smut

HimUp smut

Ropes and blindfolds smut

HimDae x Male Reader smut

HimLo Threesome SMUT

HimJae Threesome SMUT

Dinner

Popsicle SMUT

Priority

Cuddles

Taking Care

Me or Them?

Daehyun

Daehyu soul mate AU

Daehyun spoiling his daughter

Comforting Him

Breaking Up

Jealous Daehyun

One Night Stand smut

Flower Field smut

DaeJae: Love Triangle

HimDae x Male Reader smut

Sadist SMUT

Crazy SMUT

Here

Cuddles

Trip

Youngjae

Soul Mate AU

Breaking Up

Doctor Who AU

After Party (smut)

Rain

Friends with Benefits (smut)

Touch Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

We Were

DaeJae: Love Triangle

Kink smut

HimJae Threesome SMUT

Teasing

Sleepless

Vide Game

Jongup

Jongup Soul Mate AU

Bubble Bath

Clingy Jongup and Pokemon

Breaking Up

Moondance

Meeting a Foreigner

Date with a Bad Boy / Asking you out / Concert / Jealousy

Try My Luck (smut)

Nap

Mafia AU: Confession

Kittens

Drunken (Smut)

Jongup as a Bartender

Bad Girl AU

Florist AU

Like I’m Gonna Lose You

Runaway Cat

Begin Again 1 2 3 4 5

HimUp smut

Mafia AU: Protective

Backstage smut

Mafia AU: Daughter

Jongup as a Police Officer

BangUp Threesome SMUT

Meet Hades

Mafia AU: Wedding

Jealous SMUT

Sweet Mornings

Mafia AU: I Hate You

Kisses

Quiet SMUT

Practice Room SMUT

Tease

Where Were You In The Morning?

Maybe

Mafia AU: First Time SMUT

Remember Me?

Dance

Twilight

Junhong/Zelo

Soul Mate AU

Breaking Up

Do you love me?

Skateboarding Date

Puppy Date

Library Date

Secret Time SMUT

Blindfolds SMUT / Part 2 SMUT

HimLo Threesome SMUT

Cheering you up

Love Hate

Stage

Clingy

Cold

AU Collections

Mafia

Supernatural Creature

Prince

#b.a.p #bang yongguk #daehyun #jung daehyun #yoo youngjae #youngjae #jongup #moon jongup #zelo

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shitsumon-abound · 3 years ago

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Eternal Moment spoilers

You know what the most amazing (mostly funny) parts of epi12? (up to ch25 that i’ve read, in no chronological order)

How quickly the plot thickens. it’s really that meme of someone getting pizza only to find the house on fire. Except the theatre is on fire. And the dorm is getting repossessed.

Citron’s exclamation of ‘I can deploy the military!’

Seriously, Amadate is implied to have background checked everyone and still seem oblivious that he just made enemy of yakuza, gangster, Chikage and also middle eastern royals.

Zen’s restaurant being the secret hideout for first gen

How Kabuto tries to be discreet and even using voice changer but got found out after first talk with Shu.

Banri : *comes to the restaurant* Zen : Are you applying for part time? Banri : Heck noooo (said with the most deadpan voice imaginable) I dunno why this is hilarious for me

Kabuto : Haa? Banri : It’s Settsu Kabuto : Just in time. There’s this show i want you to act in. It’s in 6 months time. Banri : IM NOT JOINING YOU

Yuzo offering Juza a role in a show in six months time. Now im imagining Juza and Banri will ending up in one show and be like that spiderman meme

Citron : (regarding the threat to disband) maybe we can fool them by being Manzai Company Tsuzuru : Yeah, that won’t work... Hisoka : Marshmallow Company... Chikage : The name isn’t the problem here

Reni and Shu providing intel due to them being higher up in theatre world. Zen providing their hideout. Kasumi and Hiro providing support as celeb/reporters. Yuzo freaking out what he can do, and Kasumi suggested he can babysit his triplets.

Hinamori triplets : You’re going to stay here for dinner right?? Kasumi : You can stay forever!

Kasumi’s love for Sakuya and him probably willing to fight Itaru to the race for his adoption papers is adorable

How everyone spends time after they scatter (Winter and Autumn only since Summer and Spring’s chapters are after break on 25th)

Guy : bartending

Azuma : chilling with sugar mom

Homare : tea party with grandma

Hisoka : channeling the dead (and probably driving Chikage crazy)

Tasuku : solo acting

Tsumugi : tutoring

Azami : boy time with Shifuto

Sakyo : plotting revenge with Azami’s dad

Omi : raising ex-gangster army (again, in Zen’s restaurant)

Taichi : stress relief with kungfu

Juza : working in Yuzo’s troupe

Banri : workshop and being mule to sis

No seriously, Hisoka did channel the dead. He (like everyone else tbh) thought ‘I wanna meet everyone again’ and August appears in his dreams claiming to be his family’s representative and encouraging him to use his December skills for good

We’ll get yelled at together then! August said, even though he’s dead

Cut to Hisoka donning his black hoodie determined to most likely commit felony

I really can’t wait to Chikage’s reaction to this ngl

Chikage getting a page of Itaru’s book by giving Hisoka terms and condition for staying with him

Kamekichi as Zen’s waiter

Homare being told by grandma to think of good things as they wait for the tea to be brewed (3min) and then grandma says for Homare 2.5min is enough because more and the bad things will also pop up

Homare admitting that he’s terrible in haikus when grandma said his poem was shit. I dunno, the contrast was nice compared to when he’s insisting that everyone just doesn't understand his genius. Then again, grandma also said that Homare makes better poem when he’s with company, so at least they’re in a wavelength regarding that.

The whole sugar relationship vibe Azuma has with Asajo

Kasumi whole fanboying of Sakuya

Kasumi : How about Tenma-kun? You’re his fan, right? Hiro : Why does it get to that?? I’m not... (proceed to say how Tenma has potential and stuffs)

Spotlight viewers : he’s a fan. def a fan Hiro : IM FUCKING NOT

Baby Sakuya visual!!

He dreams of his parents and cry in his sleep and Citron says if he gets nightmare again it’d be sleepover party in 101.

Before they part, everyone offers to house Sakuya, including Chikage. Makes it even funnier because Sakuya refused him and instead Hisoka asked to stay with him.

In Hisoka’s own words, Chikage’s look of shock and horror was unforgettable.

Sakuya’s whole journey to find himself. How many hc got broken here?

He’s not scholarship student, his aunt paid for his fees in Hana high. He chose not to go to college because to him, he can get experience and everything college can provide from everyone else in MANKAI, and he wanted to work quickly to repay his aunt for the expensive private school fees.

If you didn’t cry when he introduced himself and asks to be considered family only to be turned down, you’re either a liar or a heartless person

Sakuya’s whole story. He’s tough as nail, but that makes it even more painful to read his parts. He idolized Amadate so much and turns out he destroyed his home

Amadate, to Sakuya : That fire was a good thing. Hyakka troupe’s name soared after the event got to the news. And thanks to it, someone promising ended up interested in theatre Amadate : proceeds to burn the theatre

Banri’s sis : you seem better these days Banri’s sis : it’s disgusting Banri : Why?!

Everyone’s imagination as to what they’d be if they hadn’t joined MANKAI

Guy : still think he’s android

Azuma : still a cuddler with separation anxiety

Homare : still thinks grandma hates him (remember in Mystery he thought grandma thinks he’s useless like his watch)

Hisoka : found and might or might not be killed by Chikage

Tasuku : in God troupe and hating every second of it

Tsumugi : working office job with inferiority complex towards Tasuku

Azami : still a runaway

Sakyo : would be the one destroying the theatre and the guilt towards Yukio will haunt him for life

Omi : depressed and be alone due to his guilt towards Nachi

Taichi : quitting God troupe and theatre entirely because the guilt from his betrayal makes him unable to enjoy acting

Juza : depressed and maybe be a hikkikomori

Banri : still with no motivation towards anything whatsoever

#a3!#spoiler #eternal moment #a3

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years ago

Photo

U N P L A N N E D, part four

Knowing what Harry wanted was a relief. It made you sleep better, even that first night after you drove home and reported back to Lexi over dinner.

Sure--the stakes were now higher in a sense, right? You were going through with it. Something about that felt completely surreal and still somehow impossible, but deep inside of you, buried beneath the fear and the doubt, was a tiny speck of hope. And it was decidedly apple-seed shaped.

When you were five or six, you insisted on pushing your dolls around in a carriage, so much so that you refused one day to go to kindergarten without them. Your mother had you all buckled in the car, your doll beside you and the toy-sized stroller folded in the trunk.

It had always been something you wanted, something you saw in your future--but you’d always thought that it would be in a different order. In fleeting moments, when you made your peace with that, the hope managed to fight it’s way through all of the other feelings, letting you know that it was there and real and maybe things would work out okay.

The reality was this: you were pregnant. You’d decided that you were going to have the baby. Harry seemed involved enough at this stage, and frankly, you were fine enough for now to just push any other thought out of your head.

Where would you live? Where would he live? How often would he see the baby? Would you even have full custody or were you making a terrible assumption? Would he be on tour when you went into labor?

There were a thousand questions that tried to keep you up at night, but apparently growing a human took enough out of you that you fell asleep easily these days. And Harry had warned you it was coming--a quick text to give you a heads up.

310-324-9090 (8:24am): Spoke with Jeff some more last night after I got home. He thinks it’s best if we have a meeting with some of my team. Can you call me later and I’ll give you some details?

You did as he asked--stepped out on your lunch break and spoke to him in the courtyard, careful to keep your voice quiet.

It wasn’t that people at work were nosy--it was more that a random Facebook employee getting knocked up by a famous musician was sure to be a good headline that someone would be killing to write if they got wind. So for now, you tried your best to speak in code.

“They want to have a meeting. Just to talk about some logistics and privacy things and whatnot.” He made it sound so casual.

“The logistics of the current situation?”

He sounded a bit confused. “Of you being pregnant with my baby--yes.”

“This feels like something I would need a lawyer for.”

“You don’t need a lawyer.”

“Aren’t you the opposing side? Isn’t this going to become some weird negotiation around what I can and can’t do with your--you know.”

“I don’t know…”

“Your baby,” you whispered the word quietly, a hand over your mouth to be safe. “Who is mine, too, by the way.”

“Y/N--this is just a meeting, okay? There’s a few things for you to sign--basically just saying that you’re not going to sue me or try to blackmail me.”

Glenne had mentioned that. She threw back another margarita that night in your kitchen and said you’d have to sign an NDA. It’s just something a bunch of people sign, confidentiality, basically. You’ll be fine.

It made sense. Jeff wanted to be sure you wouldn’t sell your story or try to cash in on the undoubtedly pricey offspring you were producing--that’s what Lexi had joked about. Can you imagine how much someone would pay for his baby?

You reminded her that it was yours, too. She threw her head back and laughed, yeah, but his DNA would make it more expensive--like a purebred.

And this was the easy phase, after all--that’s what your mom had told you on the phone when you told her you’d be keeping it. Things were still normal. You weren’t showing, you had no symptoms. Other than the apple-seed growth in your uterus, everything was still completely normal. For now.

You agreed to meet Harry on Saturday afternoon--some office building in Westwood that felt eerily empty on the weekend. Hallways that all looked the same, meeting rooms and conference tables stared back at you.

He’d met you in the lobby, offered a quick hug when you walked in from the fresh air. He took you up in an elevator, fourth floor, second room down on the left.

Jeff was inside with a few others, a small smile when you walked in behind Harry, clad in a graphic tee.

“Hey,” he said, standing and rounding the table to give you a hug. “How are you feeling?”

You could hear the guilt that laced his voice. “Good--I’m fine.”

“I’m, uh--I’m sorry about the other night. I was just--you know, kind of freaked.”

Harry let out a quick laugh, sarcasm threaded through his words. “We were doing totally fine--not freaked out at all.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, sat back down and introduced you to the other faces in the room. Lola, Harry’s publicist, John, a PR guy from his label, Dave, a lawyer. His assistant, Emma, a small smile on her face when you made eye contact.

You turned to Harry quickly--he sat on the other side of the table beside Jeff, fumbled with the top of his water bottle. He said you didn’t need a lawyer--but for some reason, he had one.

That’s when the anxiety kicked in--the swirling questions of what they all thought. They offered smiles when Jeff began talking and you did your best to wipe the sweat from your hands every few seconds on your pants.

“So--obviously, this is big news for everyone here--uh, we wanted to have this meeting, really, to just get a few things agreed upon.”

You nodded, watched Harry for a second until he looked at you.

Dave spoke now--black rimmed glasses sat atop his nose. You wondered what his life was like. A lawyer for top musicians? He probably drove a Tesla, too.“We have to have you sign something, Y/N--just saying that you won’t discuss any of this with the press. It includes no social media posting, no interviews, limited disclosure to friends and family.”

Another nod--that was a given, and it seemed to be for your own protection, too. Lexi had brought it up first. What happens when people find out he’s the father?

“We don’t expect you to hide the pregnancy altogether--to be clear. But for now, the parentage needs to be confidential.”

“Okay,” you said. “But not like, with everyone, right?” Maybe it was a dumb question. “I already told my mom.”

“No--your mom is fine.” Harry answered the question for them, which is when you realized that you were the only one on your side of the table. They sat in a line, the five of them elbow to elbow, their team and against yours.

The only problem was that right now, no one was on your team.

“How much did you tell her?” Dave’s head tilted like you’d said the wrong thing.

“Just a little--she knows it’s his,” your eyes went back up to Harry’s now. He held your gaze for a minute, looked over to Dave and cleared his throat.

“That’s fine,” Harry said.

The look on Dave’s face told you otherwise. “We need to keep the number of people who know to a minimum.”

“Well I certainly don’t expect her to not tell her mother,” Harry retorted, anger more present in his voice than before. You shrunk in your chair, feeling incredibly isolated as they sat across from you.

“Who does know?” Jeff leaned in, hoping to ease the tension between Harry and Dave--a welcome distraction when he looked towards you.

“Aside from people in this room, my mom, Lexi, Glenne--and my doctor, but, I think she’ll be fine.”

Dave started writing on the notepad in front of him. “I can draw up non-disclosures for them, too.”

Emma sipped at her water--you peered past her out the window. It was sunny--a good day for anything but this.

“So--we can move to the financial aspect,” Dave put his pen down and thumbed through some papers. “I know this is always the worst part, but--has to be done.”

You looked around the room, still feeling a step behind the others, confused. You watched as Harry twisted his hands together, stared down at them on the table. It felt like no one even wanted to make eye contact with you, like you were somehow wearing a scarlet letter.

“This agreement details the child support he’ll pay. Monthly until the child turns eighteen. Visiting rights, partial custody if he so chooses. If you sign, it means you agree to the terms and conditions and will hereby agree to share custody, barring any legal changes, of course. Anything you don’t agree to will be settled in arbitration, along with any changes to the agreements set forth here.”

He pushed a packet across the table, the paper was crisp and thick, stapled in the top left corner.

You looked up at him. “Do I get time to read it over?”

“Of course,” Jeff spoke quickly. “We’ll need it either way by Monday.

You tried not to roll your eyes. A whole two days. You swallowed, nodded, ignored the pen that Dave flipped over in his hand, apparently hoping you’d agree to sign now.

“We also have this,” he said, lifting another packet of papers from the stack in front of him. “We’d like a paternity test. This can be completed after seven weeks gestation. The previous agreements and contracts will become null and void if the paternity test proves Mr. Styles is not the father. That’s all detailed in here, though.”

There was a heat on your cheeks, one that felt like it threatened to bring tears. You stared down at the paper already in front of you, words like custodial and proprietary suddenly left your mouth feeling dry.

You didn’t have a chance to respond, Dave slid more papers towards you, this time the pen came with them. “We need you to sign the agreement to DNA testing for paternity confirmation and the basic non-disclosure today.”

You looked up at Harry--he watched as Dave fumbled through more papers, seeing if there was another dotted line for you to put your name on. Jeff stared at the glass of water in front of him, avoiding your gaze like you weren’t his friend, someone who came to his birthday parties or texted memes to his girlfriend.

“I need a minute,” you said, voice hoarse and unsteady. You pushed back from the table, turned and headed for the door without a response from anyone in the room.

“You can have time with the other documents, it’s just the paternity testing we need signed,” Dave’s voice faded when you got to the hallway, you counted the stripes on the carpet as you put more distance between you and your side of the conference table. The hallways were a maze, more rooms and tables and rolling office chairs that didn’t help calm your nerves.

There were footsteps behind yours--Harry’s, no doubt--but you kept moving, the end of the hallway was in sight, a door to a balcony, fresh air, a moment to breathe.

He was right behind you when you pushed it open, the cool metal of the door was prickly on your skin, hot and flushed. You squinted in the sun, he was quiet for a moment, the door shut.

“M’sorry,” he said after a second. You looked down at the cars that were parked on the streets below, people on sidewalks, a breeze from the ocean. “We have to do that--they’d never just believe it was mine without the actual proof.”

You turned around to face him. “Feels kind of shitty, though. They’ll think I’m lying until I can prove that I’m not.”

He rolled his eyes a bit. “Well people lie, Y/N! You might not be crazy but people out there are--so we have to just, I don’t know, they have to take precautions.”

“This isn’t just happening to you, Harry! I know that’s all that they care about--all that Jeff cares about right now--but this is happening to me, too! This is changing my life, too. You’re not the only one with a career and a family and a life.”

“I know!” He said, looking up to the sky as if it were the hundredth time you said it. “I know it is--I’m doing the best I can, okay? I need to know for sure that it’s mine, too, okay? I trust you, I do--but I have to know for sure.”

“Right--cause somehow this is my fault and it all falls on me at the end of the day, right?”

“I never said that,” he said, more hushed now.

“Well, this is on you, too. You’re the father and if I have to take a fucking paternity test I will but--you’re the only person I’ve slept with in the last, like, year.”

His eyes went a bit wide at that--you let out an annoyed laugh and turned back to the view, wishing you were home, beneath the tree in your mom’s backyard in Santa Paula. A good book and a sense of calm, something that felt all too fleeting these days.

“Really?”

“Really.”

You tried to ignore the smirk on his face, crossed your arms over your chest when you turned back to see him again. “So--there’s literally no chance it’s anyone else’s.”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth still lifted toward the sky.

“What? What are you smiling for?”

“Dunno,” he laughed a little. “Just--I kind of thought you left that night because you were seeing someone or something like that.”

“What? No--I haven’t--I had a boyfriend a while ago but we broke up.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

He shrugged, dropped your gaze for a moment. “Well, when I met you in the fall at that dinner--I don’t know, I asked Glenne about you and she said you were kind of,” he glanced back up at you, “unavailable. Or, you were dealing with something. So I figured when you left and never called it just--had to do with him.”

You thought back to that first night in October, long before the sex and the sneaking out. Sushi and drinks and butterflies when he walked in to the restaurant. You always knew that they knew him--heard his name and heard his songs on the radio. You’d seen him from afar once, a party at Jeff’s old house, you were on your way out when he strolled in, sometime in 2017, hugging other people and shaking hands with beautiful women. You never even thought he noticed you until you found yourself drunk on his couch two years later.

You knew why Glenne said it. You’d ended a relationship in the spring of 2018 and it took you all summer to even want to go out again. Lexi would beg and plead and apparently, a celebration in Glenne’s honor was what it took in the fall for you to finally put on a pair of heels and have a few drinks.

“I wasn’t unavailable--I just--I don’t know, her and Lexi can be protective.”

He nodded, quiet for a minute when he looked out over the hills in the distance.

Your break up was tough, not so much about losing him, but losing the vision you had. There were plenty of red flags--so big that even Lexi could pick up on them. But you brushed it off, pretended like it didn’t matter that he was unreliable and immature. When you finally had enough, you were more upset about the fact that it threw you off course.

What am I supposed to do, now? You’d asked Lexi in the living room, crying on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. How am I supposed to get married at 27 and have a baby at 29 if he’s not the one?

He wasn’t--he was far from it. Lexi poured more wine and said she’d order you a vibrator on Amazon. He’s a fucking dickface, dude, you’ll meet someone else. And fuck that timeline. It’s bullshit.

Maybe it was a gust of wind or the thoughts of how terribly off track this put you, more tears in your eyes when you sighed.

“I’m sorry you have to sign all this shit.”

You bit at your lip, a tiny thud in your chest when his eyes met yours.

“S’not how it should typically be and that’s because of me--or my job, at least.”

You nodded. He was right. If this was anyone else it’d be a lot easier. A lot less paperwork, a lot less questions.

“Do you want to go get dinner?”

“Right now?”

“Well,” he looked over his shoulder--Jeff was down the hall, his figure blurred through the glass. “You probably have to sign at least the NDA if you want them to let you out of the building. But--after that.”

You took a deep breath, wishing you could ignore the guilt that sat on your shoulders. He shouldn’t have spend time with you. You didn’t want him to feel tied down, trapped, you didn’t want to be the ball and chain that would inevitably be blamed for changing his life and ruining his career.

“No, no, we don’t have to, I should go home.”

“It’s Saturday,” he said. “What do you have to do?”

You didn’t expect his question--or pushback at all, really. “I have to clean. I have to organize stuff.”

“Stuff?” A smirk on his face told you he was on to you.

“You don’t have to take me to dinner. We don’t have to pretend like we’re friends.”

He watched you for a second, his eyes scanning your face as if he didn’t know what to say. He pushed his lips out in thought and then scratched at the back of his neck.

“Am I at least allowed to get to know you? If you’re having my baby--if we’re doing this--you’re kind of stuck with me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to backtrack.

“However you meant it--I still want to take you to dinner.”

“Fine,” you said, heat on your cheeks when he smiled, eyes crinkling by the side. “But I have some things to sign first.”

“Right,” he nodded, a stifled laugh under his breath. He turned around and grabbed the door, gesturing for you to head back inside. “After you.”

Another burger, this time, hold the pickles. He teased you at the drive through window that you’d be keeping them in business alone for the next nine months, you parked this time near a beach north of Santa Monica.

“You said I didn’t need a lawyer,” you didn’t look at him, focused instead on the half-eaten burger in your hands before you took another bite. “Feels like I do.”

He looked over at you and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I mean--I didn’t want to freak you out. You don’t need one. You could have someone read over the papers for you. Do you have one?”

You racked through your brain. Maybe Simone would be your best bet, you could bring them into work on Monday and let her give it a read, but, then again, there was no way Dave and Jeff would let you tell another person before the paternity test results came in.

You shook your head. “Lexi watches a lot of Law & Order.”

He stifled a laugh, sipped from his soda and adjusted the dark sunglasses perched on his nose. “I don’t think she counts, love, sorry.”

You picked up your own drink and took a swig, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach when he smiled down at you.

“Hey, it’s alright. I can, uh, I can have Jeff find someone--not Dave--who can read them and you can meet with them, maybe. Go over it all and make sure it makes sense.”

You nodded, a feeling of gratitude swept through you. You offered a small smile of appreciation, another bite of your burger before Harry let out a laugh.

“See? M’not the enemy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” he turned towards you now, the sleeve of french fries on his lap shifted, one fell down to the clean carpet of his car. “I know they’re requiring the test, but, I trust you. And we’re in this together.”

You crumpled up the garbage of your dinner, tossed it in the bag that sat by your feet, suddenly too nervous to sit so close to him in the confines of his car. “Let’s take a walk,” you said, unsure of how to respond to his words. It was hard to believe him, he pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and walked beside you towards the beach, another stark reminder of the difference between your life and his.

It was obvious again, when the teenager behind the ice cream window at a beach front shop begged for a photo. You took it and prayed she didn’t even remember that you were with him. Hopefully the adrenaline in her system would wipe your face from her memory.

“This is the most beautiful ice cream cone I’ve ever gotten,” he said, sitting on the bench of a picnic table a decent ways away from the counter where you’d ordered. He twirled it around, inspecting it from all angles when you pulled the straw of your milkshake up to your lips.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen one before,” you teased, reaching for a napkin from his other hand.

“S’just so perfect looking.” He reached for his phone, lifted his dessert up in front of the setting sun that sprawled over the ocean’s horizon. “Wow--do you see this?” He clicked the button on his phone, his thumb successfully capturing the moment.

You rolled your eyes, took a quick peek around to make sure no one was nearby. He’d already warned you that he couldn’t stay long. Typically only 30 minutes after you take a photo with someone, otherwise people start to show up.

“I’m sending this to you,” he laughed. “I understand if you want it framed or just as reminder of this beautiful evening.”

He pressed a few buttons and then your screen lit up on the bench in between you.

He peered down at it, then brought his eyes back up to yours. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he took the first lick of his ice cream. “Ever gonna save my number in your phone?”

You laughed, a bit embarrassed that a part of you had refused to do it. What if one day you woke up and he backed out? Said you were on your own and wrote you a check to never seek him out?

“Yeah, I just--I dunno, it felt weird at first.”

He raised his eyebrows a bit, finally took another lick from his ice cream. “Too personal?”

You laughed, “a bit.”

“Nothing quite as personal as having a baby together, if you ask me.” He took another lick and then dropped your gaze, a small smile on his face when he looked back at the sunset. “M’not going anywhere. Promise.”

When Aarav showed up at your desk on Monday morning, you knew you’d fucked up. When Simone showed up only ten minutes later, you knew you’d really fucked up.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I totally forgot it was tonight.”

“You forgot our bi-weekly Monday night bitch session about work was on a Monday night? On the Monday night after we didn’t hang out last week?” Simone tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at you. Aarav let out a sigh.

“I’ve been busy, I’ve been so busy.”

“Well are we still on? Simone and I are free as birds, so--we’re waiting on you.”

You looked at your work calendar, pulled up on your screen. Your last meeting was 3pm--then you were supposed to head towards Westwood to meet Harry and Dave and Jeff and probably the other people who had been at the first meeting.

“Yes, I can--I just, I have to cancel something else. But it’s fine. Not a big deal. That’s on me.”

You picked up your phone and tried to open the message discreetly. Simone pulled up her own and kept talking. “I’ll make us a reservation at Diego’s, yeah?”

“Sure,” Aarav said, “that’s the place with the good guac, right?”

“Right,” she said, clicking her phone shut and bringing her eyes back to you. “But also--can we talk tonight about how Carson told me he heard Levi mention something about talking with someone at Apple?”

Your eyes went wide. “Shut up--did you actually?”

“I’ll fill you in tonight,” she smiled, taking a step back from your desk and heading for the door of your office. “Over a nice, tall, frozen margarita.”

You leaned back in your chair and groaned, playfully insinuating that waiting that long would be torture. Aarav laughed and picked up a stress ball on your desk. He tossed it in the air once Simone walked away.

“You alright lately?”

You looked up from your screen, a half written text to Harry was typed out.

Hey--any chance we can rain check the meeting tonight? I know I have to sign it but something at work

“What?” You looked up at him and clicked your phone to sleep. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem distracted, or just stressed.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” he said, a lilt in his voice like he didn’t quite believe you.

You mulled it over for a second. You could tell him, you could tell both of them. They were good people and they’d sat through many intolerable staff meetings when Carson tried his best to shit on your team as if he wasn’t everyone’s least favorite coworker.

You swallowed it down and looked up at him. “All good--just, busy, really. Really hoping that there’s some movement here, soon.”

He knew what you meant--he was the one you’d been most transparent with.

“I think it’s gonna happen, don’t worry.”

You nodded, let out a sigh, wishing you could tell him that the apple seed in your uterus made things slightly less black and white than just getting a promotion.

And you wished you could have explained that to them that night--especially when they grilled you for not drinking. You shoveled chips and dip into your mouth like it was going out of style--only coming up for air when Simone reminded you about her news.

“So do you want the scoop on Levi or what?”

“Do not get my hopes up,” you warned her. “I’m not in a good place for getting jerked around.”

Aarav laughed and sipped on his margarita. “Jerk her anyway.”

“I think he had an interview.”

“No he didn’t,” you whined, worried it was either false or too good to be true. You loved Levi. He was funny and talented and he taught the three of you a lot. Plus, he didn’t really care that you’d been working from home a lot more often lately.

But you’d been hoping he’d leave Facebook for the last eight months. Ever since he told you that he’d certainly recommend you to the higher ups as his replacement.

“I swear on my life. On Mark Zuckerberg, even. I heard Levi telling Dan from Tech Support about it in the cafeteria the other day.”

Instead of responding, you shoveled in another mouthful of guac, wide eyes when they looked at you for some sort of response. But what were you supposed to say? How were you to supposed to be excited for something that had long been building, moving in that direction, but was now suddenly threatened by a one night stand?

You’d worked at Facebook longer than both Aarav and Simone. Simone came on only a few months after you, but Aarav was a whole year behind. They were also marketing geniuses, Aarav came from a top school in Chicago, Simone from the Bay Area with a degree in New Media and Internet Marketing. Your small team was responsible for digital promotions, those run online or in commercials. As the team’s Visual Designer, you worked closely with the rest of them to bring their ideas to the screen, however that looked.

So when the Team Lead, Levi, had started making mentions about heading to a new job, he casually tried to gauge your interest over coffee in the first floor cafe.

But this was shitty timing. How were you supposed to take maternity leave in the first few months in a new job? Would someone fill your spot while you were gone? The questions that started to race through your mind felt overwhelming, so much so that you wished you could reach for the margarita in Aarav’s hand.

But you didn’t. And you bit your tongue when they asked you again why you weren’t drinking. You didn’t tell them, though you wanted to, that the reason you had to miss work in the afternoon the next day was because you had to sign an NDA, agreeing to keep them and others in the dark about what was sure to be the most wild adventure yet.

And when you hugged them goodbye in the parking lot, you blinked back tears, hoping that one day, they’d know the truth.

You sent the documents to your mom. She was far from a lawyer, but she was likely the safest option you had. Lexi tried to grab them when you left them on the counter, push some sunglasses on her face and read the biggest words she saw in a posh Transatlantic accent. Both individuals agree that any proceedings will be confidential, she giggled and pretended to rip it up, collapsing on the sofa beside you to watch Netflix before bed.

It didn’t make much more sense to your mother, either, she sighed over FaceTime and apologized for not being able to help. That was your cue to text Harry. Is there actually someone I could meet with to go over these papers? Aside from Dave?

He set it up--claimed that Jeff found someone easily and then two days later, a woman with short blonde hair stood on your front step, Jeff in tow.

She sat at your small dining room table--one your mom had tucked away in the basement when you were little--the perfect spot for arts and crafts. You prayed, while your blonde-haired lawyer looked over all the words on the endless pages, that she didn’t notice the paint splotches or pools of glitter that had long been stuck on the dark, stained wood.

You sat there for hours, Lexi came and left twice in the time that the three of you huddled around the papers, Jeff with a baseball cap on as he told you about why these things were important. Rita--who you learned was a connection through Harry’s record label--had already signed an NDA and promised to explain the clauses and constraints in layman's terms.

So you felt slightly less stupid and insecure walking back into the same conference room Tuesday afternoon, alone on your side of the table.

Harry was already seated when you arrived, he offered a smile and a nervous scan over your body before you sat across from him. Jeff ended whatever call he’d been on, Dave’s hand immediately extended to receive the manila folder he’d previously sent you home with.

Another sunny Los Angeles day smiled through the window, Harry’s assistant was nowhere to be seen, the label rep wasn’t there, either. Three against one, this time.

You didn’t admit it to them, but your hand shook a bit when you reached across the table, handed over the packet of papers that somehow felt like you were giving up freedom, giving up your say in things and like you didn’t even know what you’d now lose. It was all in writing now. You were carrying this baby to term and that was the one thing that would keep Harry in your life, for better or for worse.

The only thing you took solace in was the fact that you had access to Jeff and Glenne, and maybe Rita, now, too. You could ask questions or get clarification over cups of coffee or take out.

So maybe that explained the calmness in your gut when you sat on top of an exam table in Doctor Weston’s office, Harry pacing nervously in front of you.

“Can you relax?” You asked, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding for the last few minutes.

Was it okay for you to say that? You still felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, unsure of what would tick him off and how to react. The truth was that you were still strangers--he was still someone you didn’t know. Someone who had his own pet peeves and his own fears and anxieties. He’d met you in the parking lot, he was already out of his car when you pulled in beside him the next week and met him after work.

You’re kind of late, he’d said. A frown on his face when he used sunglasses to shield his eyes.

You’d been in a meeting. You left as soon as you could. Now, he still couldn’t shake the nerves after he’d listed off the things that were keeping him up at night.

“I can’t relax,” he retorted, his words charged. He turned on his feet, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I have to figure out a lot of stuff right now. And I’m nervous, okay? This is a big day.” He motioned over to the sonogram machine, a box of purple gloves was tucked alongside it.

“You’re not the one who has to have someone’s fingers in her--you know.”

He rolled his eyes at that, let out a breathy sigh and sat in the chair against the wall. He clasped his hands together but then looked up at you. You wondered if he thought you looked stupid in the blue and white gown the nurse had left for you on the table. You’d locked him out of the room when you changed, now he smirked up at you.

“Cute dress.”

“Shut up.”

“S’nice!”

“It’s ratty and old and--not very flattering,” you plucked at the fabric with your fingers, looking back at him when he sighed again.

“M’sorry--I just--I had a meeting with Jeff today and we decided to push the album back.”

You were quiet, the air in the room felt stiff and cold. Goosebumps on your skin when you swallowed back the thought: it was all your fault.

“I--”

He cut you off before you could string any words together. “S’fine, Y/N, really. Gives me more time to sit on it and plan some music videos and talk about marketing stuff.”

You would have asked more about it. Asked about the songs or the process or anything in between, but the door opened and Dr. Weston smiled when she stepped into the white-tiled room.

“Hello, hello, how’s mom feeling?”

The m-word got caught in your throat, color drained from your face when Harry looked between you and the doctor. “Good, right, love?” He stood and took two steps over to you, some sort of instinct in him took over, a hand on your back when he realized how frozen you were. “Headaches, she’s said, a funny taste in your mouth, right?”

You nodded.

Dr. Weston sat on the rolling stool and moved towards the sonogram machine, an apologetic smile for the panic she’d caused in you. “Are the headaches helped by something over the counter? Advil? Tylenol?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Advil. Is that alright?”

“Perfectly fine. Just take the recommended dose, no more than it says on the bottle.”

You and Harry both nodded at that--as if he would remember her advice, too.

“Alright,” she reached for some gloves and looked up at you, eyes wide. “Ready to lean back? The gel will be cold but it will give us a good look at what’s going on in there. This will be the first of many ultrasounds.”

You did as she told, pushed your bum back on the table and let your back rest flush against it. She was right--the gel was sticky and cool and the probe that came from the machine poked at your stomach. You ignored the nervousness that pooled in your chest when you exposed your skin in the room, that last time Harry had seen you like this, it was dark and his vision was likely blurred by the alcohol.

“Okay,” Dr. Weston’s voice was calm, she moved along your lower stomach for a few seconds, all eyes were glued to the screen. “So, the big dark circle there in your uterus,” she pointed at the screen and clicked something to capture it. “That’s the lining, there, where it turns to a lighter gray.”

Harry nodded, his lips slightly parted as his arms crossed over his chest.

“And that, the tiny little thing inside of it--” she adjusted the probe again and pointed to the screen, tugging at the whole machine a bit so you could see it more easily. “That’s your baby.”

Quiet for a second, the first time in a while that your pulse slowed and you felt alone again, even if it was just inside your head. The thoughts slowed, your breathing slowed, and Harry’s hip bumped against your arm when he looked down at you.

There was a small smile on his face. One that looked genuine but slightly terrified at the same time. He pointed towards the screen, “s’right there, that’s it.”

“I see it,” you nodded.

He tilted his head to the side. “It’s more--like a pea now.”

You laughed a little, immediately bringing levity to the room. “It wasn’t going to be an apple seed forever.”

Dr. Weston smiled, rolled away from the machine when you pushed yourself up on your elbows. “Do you want to do a vaginal ultrasound? We can possibly hear the heartbeat that way--obviously less comfortable.”

Harry looked over at you, all you did was nod. She asked you to slide off the hospital shorts you’d tugged on beneath the gown. Harry twisted around to offer privacy, this time, the probe was more uncomfortable and there was a tinge of pink on your cheeks when he turned back to face you, his gaze trailed down to notice Dr. Weston’s hand under the blanket that was now splayed out on your lap.

Quiet for a second, then she smiled. “That sound, the whooshing--that’s the heartbeat. That’s the baby, again,” she pointed. “Right there.”

“Huh,” you said, once again, eyes on the screen and hands clasped over your stomach. Harry looked down at you when Dr. Weston captured the image again.

“So,” Dr. Weston’s voice was quieter now, she removed the probe and discarded her gloves into the trash. “Still too soon to tell the sex. But--we’ll do another one in about four weeks. If anything changes, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out. You can email me on the patient portal or just call the front desk.”

“Okay.”

“I'll print these for you.”

“Can you print two copies, please?”

She nodded, another reminder of how off track things were from the plan. You ignored the weight on your shoulders, the guilt that passed through your veins when she shut the door behind her and left you alone in the room with him.

You sat up, the paper crumbled beneath you and Harry stood awkwardly in the center of the room.

“I, uh--I still haven’t told my family.”

You bit at your lip, unsure. Was it because he was ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry? You didn’t ask.

“I want to, I just--I haven’t seen them in a bit. So. I’m supposed to go home for a while next week.”

You nodded. “You should go.”

“It’s supposed to be for, like, six weeks.”

“That’s fine.”

“No--I’m not--I can’t miss whatever happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

He pulled his head back, confused by your words. “I don’t think that’s how pregnancy works.”

You stood from the table and hopped down, suddenly much shorter than you felt before, barefoot on the tile. “Just go.”

He let out a sigh. “I might for a week, but, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you snapped suddenly. “You don’t have to come to every appointment and act like we’re actually--I don’t know, together, or something. We can still live separate lives.”

“I’m not acting like that,” he said, eyebrows pointed inwards now. “I’m just doing what’s right. I’m in this, too, Y/N.”

You turned around, shimmied the shorts down from your hips and held the gown in place. You grabbed for your underwear on the chair beside his, neatly folded in a pile as if your life wasn’t a mess.

“I think you should do it. Tell them in person.” You pulled up the elastic band over your hips, still keeping the gown close to your body.

He handed you the black shorts you’d been wearing earlier, the gesture didn’t match the tone of his voice. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m not like anything,” you said, one foot in first, then the other. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped in LA with me. I’m fine.”

You dropped the gown now, holding it to your chest when you turned to reach for your bra. He averted his gaze, stared directly at the vagina poster on the wall. “Right.”

You tugged on your bra quickly, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head. “Right what?”

“You’re right. You’re fine. You don’t need me,” a shrug of his shoulders. “Is that what you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to relax.”

“Well I’m sorry that I can’t,” he spoke quickly now, the anger on his face stopped you in your tracks. “But the last thing I need is for you to act like none of this is a big deal.”

You didn’t mean to do it again--you didn’t feel it coming until the tears were already on your cheeks, wet and falling towards the floor. He sighed at that, steadied his own breathing and pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, words broken by the heavy breathing. “It just happens now--I just cry on command.”

He shook his head, watching as you folded the gown neatly on the table, left it there to be discarded by the nurse. “No--I--it’s fine. You can cry as much as you want.”

You turned to look at him, a few breaths to try to steady your pulse. He stepped forward, his arms wrap around your shoulders. You were still for a moment, unsure if you were allowed you let your arms wrap around his waist, or if it would make the crying worse. But you did, and when you did, he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“S’alright. I’ll go home for a week. Then I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” you said. “Okay.”

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: longer than usual!!! so excited for all of you to read what’s coming! I hope everyone is staying safe and staying home. I wanted to put this chapter out a bit early since I know everyone is (hopefully) stuck inside. keep all of the messages coming i love chatting with all of you about Harry and Y/N and their little apple seed!!!!

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila @mell-love @anssu-amry @yelllowgrass @littlesoldierelleora @styles217 @rachkon @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @myhat @rosegoldbel @passionate-dreamerr @grammyforstyles @haute-romance-quotidienne@dontgiveupthedayjob @ursamajor603 @craic-head-horan @heavenspidey @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry @blackxxmagicc @winter-soldier-007 @ssllbb @wanderlustiing @jdcharliewhiskey @caritocp @kaybee87 @wildbeee @hsunflowervol @harrys-medicines @tobe-sogolden @theresnooneheretosave @1d-tommo5 @soullikestyles @mrsfstyles

#unplanned #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles black #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles spotify #fem!reader x harry styles #fem!reader x harry #harry styles reader insert #idkthisisjustforfanfic

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

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Ooooh but like what if it's gray getting jealous and a teeny but insecure too when MJ mentions some of her work mates and other close guy friends w whom she hangs out and drinks and parties yk?And when he finally meets them he might not be able to get some inside jokes or be pissy on how touchy one of her guy bffs is?!And just goes like"baby am I too young for you?"🥺maybe some cute fluff and hot makeup sex?? ;p Sorry if this too much or straight up lame It's cool if you don't wanna concept this

Ok, first of all, I love this. Second, this is my first MJ concept and I’m soft af🥺

If there’s one personality trait Grayson Dolan wouldn't normally attribute to himself, it’s that of being easily jealous. Why would he be? His life, despite it’s occasional heavy downs, is relatively picturesque in the grand scheme of things. He’s got a loving family, an amazing career, a beautiful girlfriend, and he’s narcissistic enough to proudly say he’s a good-looking dude.

But the little green monster first starts to stir in chest when said beautiful girlfriend lays back on his chest one morning, scrolling through Instagram while the two of them laze in bed. MJ is looking through the pictures she had been tagged in at a company dinner the night before, double-tapping her phone screen occasionally and diverting his attention away from his own phone when she does.

“Who’s that?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible as he eyes a certain picture with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Hm?” MJ had already scrolled down to the next photo, but she goes back to the one in question. Grayson points to the guy standing next to her. “Oh. That’s Jesse. He’s one of my teammates.”

Grayson doesn't respond right away, his gaze focused on the way the attractive young man has his arm wrapped tightly around MJ’s waist in the group photo. MJ is leaning away from him, but it still gives him a bad vibe — not from her, but from him.

“He looks friendly.”

MJ glances up at him and slaps the other side of his bare chest with the back of her hand jokingly. “Relax, we all had to squeeze in to get the picture. He’s just a colleague.”

“Yeah, to you,” Grayson mumbles. He tosses down his phone and turns on his side so he can throw his arm over her middle, nuzzling into her hair.

MJ smiles and scratches her nails up and down his sculpted arm, his warm breath tickling her ear. He’s not really the possessive type, too confident in himself and trustworthy in her for this to have ever been an issue in their relationship, but her work world is one entirely separate from him. She doesn’t think it’s too irrational for him to be suspicious, especially since she can admit feeling a little iffy about the way Jesse had so easily sidled up to her for that photo.

She shifts her head on the pillow so she’s facing him, kissing his lips softly but soundly. It’s an unspoken reassurance between them, and they both let the topic go.

A few days later, they’re in the kitchen together, a pass only she is allowed while Grayson cooks. MJ sits on the island, her feet dangling over the cabinets as Grayson stirs the vegetables he’s sautéing on the stove, when her phone buzzes on the marble countertop beside her. She picks it up and chuckles, her manicured fingers typing away.

“What’s so funny?” Grayson asks nosily.

MJ hits ‘send’ in the text response she wrote. “Jesse sent a stupid meme that reminded him of this super difficult exec we have to deal with for one of our clients.” She holds up her phone so Grayson can see it, but without the further context he doesn’t really see the humor in it. It causes a weird sensation to bubble in his stomach, one he can’t quite place, but it definitely makes him give the veggies an extra vigorous stir that has some of them flying out of the pan on accident.

He draws the line on this guy in his head when MJ sends him a text the next afternoon while he’s in a Wakeheart meeting downtown, just a few blocks from her office.

ugh baby i’m so sorry i have to cancel our lunch date :/ jesse wants to keep working on this report we have due this afternoon and i’ll look like a dick if i leave.

Grayson huffs and feels the back of his neck flush with anger. Why is Jesse controlling whether or not she can take her lunch break? She has a habit of skipping it to begin with, which Grayson can’t stand and actively tries to make sure she doesn’t do, so his irritation with this dude is through the roof now. His mind can’t help but wander to the possibility that maybe Jesse is doing it on purpose; he knows for a fact all of her coworkers know about him, so who’s to say he’s not trying to keep her to himself today? Before he can type out a heated response, however, MJ double-texts.

i promise I’ll make it up to you tonight. whatever you want, on me. literally and figuratively ;)

She knows him too well, can probably sense his frustration a few streets away. Grayson sighs, but his mouth lifts in a little smile, because he loves her and he’s low-key looking forward to that promise now.

Alright. I’ll be thinking about that to get me through this meeting. Pls eat tho baby, it makes me worry when you don’t.

me too lol. and gonna order some kreation now, don’t worry. ily

She punctuates her message with a few heart emojis, and Grayson returns the sentiment before pocketing his phone once more. His mind is far from the financial projections he’s supposed to be paying attention to, but luckily this is much more Ethan’s territory in the business than his, anyways.

Friday, he and MJ are cuddling on the couch watching a movie when out of nowhere she gasps a little and sits up from where she’s leaning on him. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask. You and E doing anything tomorrow?”

Grayson chuckles and shakes his head, amused by the suddenness of her question. He pushes a lock of her hair, damp from their shared shower, behind her ear. “Not that I know of, other than we might go to the skatepark.”

MJ grins. “Well, my boss is making us do our monthly team-building workshop at a climbing gym, if you want to tag along. I don’t think you’ll be able to join us during the middle of it, obviously, but afterwards it would give you the chance to meet some of the people I work with, if you want.”

He considers it. He hasn’t been climbing in a while, and he’s actually been itching to get back into it. Not to mention, it’ll give him a chance to keep an eye on Jesse while he’s around MJ in the skin-tight lycra she wears to work out in.

“Yeah, I’m down. I’ll ask E if he wants to come, too.”

The next day, the three of them roll up to the gym in Ethan’s Tesla. Grayson wastes no time in taking MJ’s hand in his as they walk through the parking lot, just in case a certain set of eyes are watching. MJ squeezes his fingers reassuringly; she’s not dumb, not impervious to the fact that when he kisses her goodbye once they step inside and before they go their separate ways that he had caught a glimpse of the man from the picture that put his guard up to begin with.

When he pulls back but makes no move to join Ethan on the other side of the gym, MJ shakes her head with a grin and cups his cheek softly.

“No need to stake your claim, Neanderthal,” she says.

He looks down at her with a pout that makes her heart and her panties melt. His wide hands plant themselves on her hips and tug her a little closer to him, anyways. “Am I being obvious?” he asks.

“Only to me,” she winks, rising on her toes to give him one more chaste kiss. “Now go with E, before Chanel gets here and I have to reverse the roles.”

Grayson laughs but does as he’s told, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before they part ways. MJ’s company had rented half of the gym, which was roped off for them. He chooses the open wall closest to the one they're using, eager to keep his girlfriend as nearby as possible for the couple of hours they would be separated.

As he sits on a bench and slips on his climbing shoes, Grayson can’t help but search out where Jesse is. He’s easy to spot, that’s for sure. Not only is he already next to MJ, chatting animatedly while she smiles and nods politely in return, but he stands out with his curly mop of hair, caramel-colored skin, and pale blue eyes. Maybe his attractiveness is part of the reason Grayson is somewhat intimidated by his obvious interest in MJ, but he’s also part of her everyday life, one he knows nothing about other than what she shares with him.

It’s never been something that bothers him, because it’s healthy to have a life outside of a relationship, but he’s always dated — hooked up, whatever you want to call it — in his industry. There was always a mutual understanding of what work and life in general entailed with those flings, and it’s taken Jesse for him to suddenly realize he doesn’t have the experience or the knowledge of how to handle his feelings with that not being the case with MJ. It makes him feel out of control, not good enough somehow.

Grayson Dolan does not like to be out of control and he most certainly does not like being below his own standards.

“Who’s that?”

Grayson is brought out of his daze by his brother’s voice and the hand he had clapped to his shoulder. If he were able to laugh at himself in this moment, he might have found Ethan’s question funny, since it was exactly what he’d said when he first saw Jesse, too. Ethan’s gaze is fixed on MJ and the man in question, who had placed his hand on her elbow as he talked only for MJ to duck down to ‘tie her shoe.’

“Jesse,” is all he says, standing up to buckle his chalk belt around his waist.

“Oh,” Ethan replies, nodding his head a little. “Do we like him?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Ethan becomes another set of eyes for Grayson while they climb, giving him nudges or a little whistle every time he catches Jesse standing a little too close to MJ, or finding a reason to touch her, or to ‘help’ her as she climbs up the wall. Grayson glowers over every time, trying his best but probably failing to not to come off as the jealous boyfriend. Every once in a while MJ will catch his eyes, giving him a quick wave or a thumbs-up with a pretty smile just for him. It makes his heart settle some, only for his chest to tighten again when Jesse starts cheering for her a little too loud.

The two hours pass by a little faster as he settles into the rhythm of climbing, trying to put her touchy coworker in the back of his mind. He trusts MJ with everything in him, but he knows how men can be — ignorant either by choice or by idiocy to a woman’s obvious signals of disinterest.

“Gray!”

He’s just reached the top of the wall when his girlfriend’s voice cuts clear through the loud chatter around them. He looks down and sees her on the mat, hair pulled back in a cute high ponytail, freckled cheeks flushed from the exertion of the day, as she waves him down with that same bright smile.

He grins, excited to have her to himself once again. “One sec!”

Once he’s made it back down the wall, he greets her with a kiss. She’s tied her jacket around her waist, leaving her top half covered only by a pretty green sports bra that happens to be both his favorite color and one that makes her eyes pop beautifully.

“I like this,” he says suggestively, hooking his finger in one of the straps and tugging gently.

MJ rolls her eyes and reaches up to adjust the center of the Wakeheart cap he’s got backwards over his hair. “Come on. You can meet the idiots I have to put up with every day.”

She leads him to the group, who are all standing around chatting, gulping down water, gathering keys and such as they prepare to leave. He gets introduced to them a couple at a time. Some of them he recognizes by name, such as Valentina and Jude (both of whom MJ actually likes and considers friends), MJ’s intern Alessia, and Chanel, of course, who bats her eyes so obnoxiously it’s almost comical.

And then there’s Jesse, who’s immediately sizing Grayson up with those striking eyes as soon as they approach him standing in the corner on his phone. Grayson doesn’t back down in the slightest, a smirk fixing itself on his lips when MJ leans into him and wraps her arm around his back. He drapes his own over her shoulders, pulling her that much closer to him.

“Hey Jess. This is the famous boyfriend I’ve told you all about,” she introduces, patting a hand on his hard stomach and smiling up at him for a moment.

Grayson lets go of MJ long enough to extend his hand. “Grayson.”

Jesse accepts and shakes his hand politely. “Jesse. MJ and I are teammates.”

“So I’ve heard,” he says, keeping a tight smile on his face as Jesse continues to square up to him, like Grayson has posed some kind of challenge.

Jesse nods, a grin of his own popping up as he gets the idea that MJ has maybe talked about him before. Grayson wants to roll his eyes, but he stays trying to be the bigger person here.

“So what do you do, Grayson?” Jesse asks.

Another hot flash overcomes him. He’s heard the question often enough to know there are two ways people ask it: innocently and genuinely; or knowingly and almost maliciously, like Jesse is now, waiting for him to say the ‘i’ word and berate him for it passive-aggressively.

MJ tightens her arm around him some, and it calms him down enough to answer with an even tone. “I do social media.”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though,” MJ steps in for him with a grin. “He and his brother have a whole production team under them. And they're CEO’s and part-owners of a fragrance company, Wakeheart. I think I’ve told you, whenever you compliment my perfume, that it’s Grayson’s, right?”

She’s incredible, really. Grayson smiles and shows off the diamonds in his teeth, which glint in the harsh artificial light. “Well, Jesse, if you like MJ’s perfume so much, I’d be glad to send you our whole collection. Maybe you’ll find one that’s right for you.”

He can see Jesse’s resolve start to waver, especially when MJ stands on her toes to kiss Grayson’s stubbled cheek. “Very generous, huh Jesse?”

Jesse clears his throat and digs his keys out of his pocket tellingly. “Ah, yeah. Thanks, man, good to meet you. See you Monday, MJ.”

He brushes past the couple without another glance, and he at least has the decency to blush a little from embarrassment. MJ turns and wraps her arms around Grayson’s middle, staring up at him with big green eyes that sparkle with amusement.

“Do you think he got the picture that I’m completely, totally, head over heels in love with you?” she asks, swaying slightly as he wraps his arms around her as well. “And that he has no chance in this universe whatsoever?”

“I don’t know, I feel like you could’ve laid it on a little thicker. Hyped me up a bit more,” Grayson jokes, dipping down to brush her lips with his. A blonde statue glares at the pair of them when he pulls back and glances over MJ’s head. “Chanel is staring daggers at us. Should we make out right here so she can see how I feel the same about you?”

MJ giggles and shakes her head. “Unfortunately, nothing will faze that bitch.” She nuzzles his nose with hers affectionately, the chaste display a perfect disguise for the dirty whispers that comes out of her mouth next. “Mm, my CEO boyfriend can take me home, though, and fuck me nice and hard in the shower.”

Grayson’s eyes turn a shade darker, and he bites his plump lower lip. He wants to slip his hands down to her ass, but he’s also very aware of how public they are right now. “If we even make it to the shower,” he murmurs.

MJ scrunches her nose and raises her brow in a look of mild disgust. “Gray, if you think I’m sucking your dick after it’s been in a cup for nearly three hours, without you taking a shower, you better think again. I don’t think even Chanel is down for that.”

Grayson lets out a belly laugh and releases her, taking her by the hand instead to go find Ethan. “Noted, baby. Noted.”

#no smut but #might post some tomorrow👀#thank u again bb for sending this in it means a lot❤️#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson mj #grayson mj blurb #blurb #g blurb

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

Text

February 16, 2021: Carol (2015) (Part 1)

...Harold...

Yeah, I had to do this one. Partially because I knew about this film previously, as it was kind of a smash hit when it came out in theaters. It was about as big of a deal as Blue is the Warmest Color, which...we might get there. But, yeah, Carol was already on my radar when I decided to dip into LGBT cinema.

But also...you can thank my girlfriend again. There she is (as she’s choosing to represent herself through GIF form) below.

We love The Owl House. Anyway, I wasn’t aware of the meme until we were watching a movie, and she just screamed “HAROLD THEY’RE LESBIANS!” And after doing some research on that statement...that’s goddamn hilarious. And it all started with Carol, so the writing’s basically on the wall there.

Here’s what I know. This movie stars Cate Blanchett...OK, that’s it! Shall we find out more firsthand? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

In New York City, a man enters a bar and restaurant, where he sees an old acquaintance, Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara), who is having dinner with another woman, Carol Aird (Cate Blanchett). And, uh, lemme just say, we’re jumping off RIGHT away, and my girlfriend immediately starts screaming “HAROLD” at the screen.

Anyway, Jake invites her to a party with mutual friends, and Carol and Therese end their dinner date early. As Therese looks out of the window of a car on the way to the party, she thinks backwards through time, and takes us with her. FLASHBACK

Therese wakes up one morning around Christmastime, only to see her boyfriend, Richard Semco (Jake Lacy), ready to take her to work on a bicycle though Central Park. They talk about going to Paris on vacation, an idea about which Therese seems nonchalant. Therese works at Frankenberg’s, a department store that doesn’t exist. As is typical of the season in NYC, shoppers and their children flood the place. We went there on Christmas of 2019, and I grew up in the area. Trust me when I say Christmas in NYC is FUCKIN’ NUTS.

Therese works at the toy counter, and that’s when Carol arrives to get a doll for her daughter. Unfortunately, they’re out of the doll she’s looking for, so Therese offers a model train set to her instead, and the two hit it off basically immediately. And when I say hit it off, they HIT IT OFF. Like...the chemistry is IMMEDIATE. Maybe that’s Cate Blanchett’s pure charisma, but I’m just saying...they have the fastest chemistry establishment that I’ve seen yet.

But oh no! Carol’s forgotten her gloves! However, it doesn’t seem like much results from that, as the work day is soon over, and Therese and Richard go to a movie and a beer with friends Phil (Nik Pajic) and Danny McElroy (John Magaro). That night, having returned home, Therese looks at Carol’s gloves. Using information obtained during the department store visit, she mails the gloves to Carol, at her gorgeous mansion.

Carol is combing her daughter’s hair, as her husband Harge Aird (Kyle Chandler) arrives home with the mail. Things seem somewhat amiss, as Carol seems extremely unhappy. She later calls her at the department store to thank her for the gloves, and offers to buy her lunch that afternoon. She agrees, and the two head to a nice restaurant.

Over the course of the meal, it’s revealed that Carol and Harge are going through a divorce (yeah, that tracks), and Therese’s conflicted on how she feels about her relationship with Richard. Carol invites her to come over at some point, and she agrees.

Later on, while in traffic in the car of a friend, Abby Gerhard (Sarah Paulson), she seems to acknowledge potential attraction between her and Therese, although it’s not exactly set in stone. She heads to a party that evening. Meanwhile, she visits her friend Danny, an aspiring writer, who inquires about her hobby of photography, and then...kisses her...even though she’s dating a friend. Fuckin’ OH BOY, DANNY.

Harge takes Carol home, and he’s 100% still in love with her, and she’s just not feeling it. This may be related to the fact that she and Abby were also once a couple. Yeah. Harge is aware of this, and they were DEFINITELY a romantic couple in the past, which means...yeah, Carol’s a straight-up lesbian, it would seem. Harge says it “shouldn’t be like this,” and it’s not clear whether that refers to Carol’s attraction to women, or the divorce in general. It is the 1950′s, after all.

OH WAIT. Forgot to mention that, didn’t I? This film takes place in the 1950s, I think? Hasn’t been made super clear as of yet, but the aesthetic is certainly the 1950s, without much doubt. The next day, Carol goes to pick Therese up, and meets Richard. Richard tells Therese he loves her as they depart. Therese doesn’t return the sentiment. FUCKIN’ OOF.

As the two drive through Lincoln Tunnel together, their dialogue is quieted, and we get some interesting close-up shots of their eyes, lips, faces. And it’s definitely meant to suggest something more physical, something without words. In other words...Harold’s wife is starting to get the idea. Harold’s not quite there yet, though.

Carol and Therese go to Carol’s home in New Jersey, where she meets her and 4-year old Harge’s daughter, Rindy, who Carol obviously loves VERY much. That night, Therese plays the piano, and also shares her passion for photography with Carol. Carol shows interest in her hobby, when Harge suddenly shows up to take Lindy unexpectedly for Christmas with his family, away from her.

The argument that this results in quickly envelops Therese, as Harge confronts Carol about her presence there. The ending result, though, is that Carol is forced to let Rindy leave early with Harge. And yeah, it’s sad for her. Harge, on the other hand, is being an absolute dick. The two have a verbal and PHYSICAL argument outside, which Therese partially overhears.

As an apology for bringing Therese into this marital struggle, Carol gives her a ride to the train station, so she can make her way home that night. On the train, Therese cries. Is this because of Harge, because of Carol, because of a struggle with her own feelings? I’m honestly not sure. And it’s a good question.

Carol seems to believe that it’s because of her, though, as she turned her away somewhat abruptly. However, she quickly tries to make up for it by calling and apologizing. Therese says that she has questions for her, and Carol is more than willing to answer them. The next day, Carol goes down to her divorce attorney’s office, only to discover that Harge is trying to take away ALL of Carol’s custody.

And the reason for it? You guessed it! Carol’s a lesbian! Sooooooo, FUCK HARGE!!! With this otion, Carol won’t be able to see Rindy for several months, which hurts her greatly. Again, fuck Harge, he’s a dick who’s taking away Carol’s joy and time with her daughter solely because Carol isn’t attracted to him. GODDAMN, that absolutely sucks.

Meanwhile, Therese’s struggling with her own feelings, some of which may be for Carol, and actually STRIGHT-UP asks Richard his opinions on the origins of homosexuality. He believes that it can’t just happen like heterosexual love, which...I mean, 1950s, what can I tell ya, it wasn’t great. He point-blank asks her if she’s in love with a girl, and she says no, and leaves him in the street in a huff. And real talk, I feel bad...for Richard. Therese, too, but dude is genuinely in head-over-heels with Therese, and is just NOT getting the hint.

Carol and Abby go to have lunch, where Carol breaks the news. They share tenderness, as they have in the past, and Abby’s pretty clearly out of the closet, as much as one can be in the 1950s. Also, quick aside to note that Sarah Paulson rules...and moving on.

Carol then visits Therese, and gives her new camera equipment as a kind gesture. Carol shares with her the news of the struggle with her husband, and says that she’s going on a trip, to get away for a while. She invites Therese to come with her, quite spontaneously, and Therese equally spontaneously says yes! Fuckin OOOOOOOF to Richard, goddamn.

Also, exactly the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

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advancedscurvy · 3 years ago

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Numbers 3, 5, and 10 for the OC questions ask meme?

3) Do they have any pet peeves?

5) At what stage of life are they the happiest?

10) What is their favorite memory from their childhood?

Since you didn't specify which, I'll just answer for all of them! Going in the order of age.

Cyra:

3: She's very touchy about etiquette. Do not be rude around Cyra. Do not raise your voice or use brusque language. Do not clink your cups or be anything but perfect at the table. There's, of course, times where she's not uptight as hell. But it is few and far between. Also, she has zero patience for tardiness.

5: After she marries her wife, she retires from politics and military advising and decides to teach-- partially because her health is starting to fail her, but mostly because she wants to spend time with her wife. This is in her forties. She and her wife meet as teenagers. Talk about a long courtship. Anyways-- that period is the best part of her life. She finds it really fulfilling and feels less like she's fighting an uphill battle against bureaucracy and her body, and more like she's genuinely doing well.

10: Her mom's dinner parties were always very special parts of Cyra's life because she loved to play at being grown up. One particular one for one of her father's promotions when she was eight or so had a friend of her father's who would later become her C.O. talking philosophy with her-- and being taken seriously by an adult who didn't condescend to her or pity her the way her parents did was incredibly important to her. She held onto that for a long time.

Atro:

3: Atro has a very personal pet peeve about personal space and being touched, and will push people away. Don't get in a two foot radius of her without asking, she will use force. Additionally, do not move her things. Everything has a place. Her tools all go somewhere even if it doesn't make sense to you. She is simply built diffterent!

5: Atro's life is probably happiest in her mid thirties, when her kids are past the toddler stage and she can start teaching them and work independently again, without the shadow of, y'know, the Empire hanging over everyone anymore and the many, many people who were out to get her around anymore. Sure, she's still got issues, but at heart, Atro is a teacher, and her twins are good learners-- and getting to work on her real passion as a mechanic instead of feeling pressured to be part of the effort to protect the galaxy is a great thing for her. She didn't have to build and fix ships and weapons anymore and got to focus on designing prosthetics and mobility aids. It was a really fulfilling time for her and the first time she ever really felt like she was home since she was very, very little.

10: When she was very little and she lived with her parents on Murninkam, her dad used to walk her to the nearest port, Laaskrik, every few months or so. He always made a point of buying her something special to take back with her. Pretty little beaded bracelets, sometimes toys. She probably didn't realize it at the time but it was often at the cost of any of his own spending money. She doesn't have any of the little treasures left anymore, but she fondly remembers it.

Tyche:

3: Tyche has a serious issue with two things. People who she too easily can get the slip on are an immediate dislike, and god forbid you chew in her vicinity.

5: The happiest part of Tyche's life is by far, the part of her life where she has retired from being an intelligence officer, her kids are adults, and it's just her and her ship and her husband joyriding around the galaxy. She feels like she never got to really see places when she was young because she was so busy being, well, Like That (read: a paid assassin and then intelligence officer for the Rebellion).

10: Her happiest childhood memory is her and her older sister picking berries when they were little, gorging themselves on those stupid sweet things and laying out in the snow watching the ships in the distance pass through the system and hoping that one day they'd be on one of them.

Enlil (he/they):

3: Reckless self endangerment and ignoring your own personal needs is a one way ticket to the time out corner with them. He will sit you down if they must.

5: The happiest part of their life in terms of fulfillment is probably just after the Empire falls (so, like, his early 30s), when he and his wife Tyche spent every moment with rescue operations and relief. They were a huge part of the reform in the New Republic's handling of relief and healthcare reform post-Empire, and genuinely loved the work because everything he does he does for other people.

10: His happiest childhood memory is he, and his mothers (they have lesbian moms) going on their first camping trip as a family. He grew up on Miko, where one of his mothers was relatively high ranked in bureaucracy, and it is a very humid, tropical planet, and sure, it was sticky and sweaty and gross, but have you ever jumped into a creek in the most nasty humid summer ever? That's cemented in their memory as the happiest moment. His mum catching him in her arms, as they jumped off the swing.

#mine #star wars ocs #enlil velas #tyche basha #atro ashemi #cyra kivela

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valentinesparda · 3 years ago

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So, I have only managed to watch One (1) episode of Peaky Blinders so far (I'm working on it!!! I'm just having trouble sitting down and watching, you know how it is-- but also don't worry about spoilers!) SO: For that historical ask meme, for Thomas Shelby and your SI Aubrey: 🎩(I love Aubrey's fashion and I want to see more please), 🕰 , and 🥀 please!!!

i absolutely know how it is, especially when the episodes are about an hour in length!! it took me almost a whole year to finally get caught up on pb so you are totally okay in my book 👌

🎩: How does your S/I dress? (Include reference pictures if you want!) How about your F/O?

I'd love to include reference pictures but that is so much energy fbjsndj basically aubrey originally started out wearing a plain dark sweater (normally turtleneck), suspenders, and trousers everyday, which is very much not the norm for an afab person in 1919 into the 20s. so you'd see them in stuff like this almost all of the time.

further on in the series as they work for the blinders, they amass more money and are able to afford more clothes. and as time progresses, aubrey transitions into a much more masculine lifestyle; tailored suits are weaved into their wardrobe but they still have to be able to move around.

they have a schedule with their clothes, wearing nice suits certain days and then comfortably working in a (usually funky) sweater / sweater vest over their button up and the sleeves rolled to the elbows, pleated pants and work boots the other days, with the exception of parties where they'd be seen wearing a really nice dinner suit as often as they would be in an expensive gown - most likely bought by tommy.

thomas is the epitome of middle-class working man wardrobe, and watching his clothes get progressively more stylish and sleek as he moves up the social ladder in the series is a treat. his growth is reflected in how he dresses and he knows what he likes so he never strays from it. in comparison to aubrey who is considered a bit more out there in how they dress, thomas is pretty mainstream. :)

🕰️: How did you and your F/O meet? How long did it take for you to get together after you met?

aubrey was friends with john - they had met in a hospital during the last years of the war!! they come into contact with thomas through john when they visit birmingham to help deliver goods from their family brewery. they meet face to face at the reopening of the garrison, and thomas finally invites aubrey to officially meet him in his office after hearing from john that they'd stitch wounds for some of the boys behind this back. they offer to work under the table as a back alley nurse so the boys could avoid the hospital as long as they gave them some sort of money for their work, and aubrey is unfortunately immediately smitten; i say unfortunately mainly because grace has shown back up at this point.

aubrey spends the next several years pining. through tommy's marriage, through his wife's death, through tatiyana. tommy and aubrey become close for lack of a better term as they try to befriend him for real, like a genuine friendship, and because john trusts them and arthur trusts them and polly trusts them and they've never done them any wrong, he lets them. :)

at a certain point he does offer them marriage but it's mainly pushed off as just for money and all that jazz but what's really happening is that thomas is slowly realizing he's lonely and he does genuinely like aubrey's presence. everyone around him likes their presence. why not maintain social status by taking a new wife (genderneutral) and fill up that empty house with their paintings?? haha absolutely no ulterior motives here

🥀: What kinds of gifts has your F/O given you? What kinds of gifts have you given them?

thomas spoils people with gifts but not like....all the time, you know? he does nice things for people because he can and he probably would drop money on anyone at all if he loved them enough and it didn't either a) put them in harm's way or b) get in the way of business.

so like nice jewelry, expensive new art supplies, necessary items for the small clinic he's bought them. but also sweeter stuff like putting new statues in their home when aubrey points out that the walls and corners are bare. buying them a piano because they used to play but haven't since their old home was destroyed in a property fire. books that aren't philosophy or the boring stuff tommy normally reads because aubrey is more a fan of the silly romance novels and horror stories that have come out recently on top of their neverending hunger for knowledge of the natural kind. he knows they never had much to begin with so he makes up for it himself.

aubrey prefers to make gifts for the people they love, and they feel kind of silly when they only ever present thomas with a new short story or painting or even just to show him a messy charcoal doodle, but the truth is he appreciates those gifts more than if they were to buy him a new pocketwatch if his breaks or take him out to dinner because he loves seeing the creative things his partner can do, how intelligent they are. they have definitely kept note of what kinds of themes he likes more and what his favourite foods and drinks are, what his favourite color is. they know he likes horses so they draw him horses. they haven't found anything that tommy particularly wants more than anything in the world because for one thing he won't talk about anything on his mind and two he can buy whatever he wants regardless.

they both have simultaneous plans to surprise buy the other a horse at some point. disgusting little losers.

TL;DR - im very emo

#asks #kaiden tag #otp: am i awake #long post

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toplinetommy · 4 years ago

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You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Two) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 4.8k

Part One

September 2017 - Denver, CO

NHLers + 1 Tucker: heard you got a job in Denver Tucker: you know who else got a job there Y/N: what are you going on about Brock: tyson jost plays for the avs Brock: you should catch a game when the szn starts Y/N: he barely knows who i am Tucker: he thinks youre cute *Brock emphasized the message* Y/N: that was months ago Brock: whats the worst that can happen Y/N: hes literally a pro athlete Tucker: im a pro athlete and I still talk to you

You set your phone back onto the patio table, changing it out for your margarita. You were sitting on your new best friend and coworker, Caitlyn’s, back deck enjoying margaritas in the early Denver fall when she said a name you hadn’t heard in months.

“So, when were you going to tell me you know Tyson Jost?”

You nearly spit out the alcoholic beverage, choking as it goes down the wrong pipe. “Uh, because I don’t? He played hockey where I got my undergrad, not a big deal.”

“Then how come I’m scrolling on Instagram, and Tyson Jost shared to his IG story a picture that you, my friend, are in?” She pushes her phone across the table to you and you look at the picture. Sure enough, it’s a picture Brock had shared to his story, that Tyson had reshared, from the 2017 senior banquet. You’re standing between Brock and Tucker in the back of the photo, barely seen as you were tucked in a large group of hockey players. You weren’t even tagged and yet, somehow Caitlyn had been able to pinpoint you, with none other than Tyson Jost standing right in front of you.

“I’ve had maybe three conversations with him? He only played the one year there and I wasn’t tutoring him.” You shrug, not getting what the huge deal was.

“You were a tutor?”

“Yeah, for athletes, but towards the end I was mainly tutoring the hockey team. That’s why I’m in that picture, I was pretty close to a few of the guys. That was their senior banquet my senior year and I went as one guy’s date, and no, it wasn’t with Tyson or Brock. It was with a guy named Tucker, he plays for the Jets actually.”

Caitlyn asks a few more questions about your college life before the sun starts to set, and the hockey conversation gets dropped.

“Trust me, I’m not ‘immersed’ into the NHL community or whatever. I just have a few friends in the league that I don’t even talk to that much besides sending memes in a group chat.” You say closing out the topic, choosing to move onto something else.

“Anyways, tell me more about Jack! How come I haven’t met your soulmate yet, huh?” You ask giddly. Soulmates were one of your favorite things to talk about, mainly because you were a hopeless romantic at heart; always fantasizing about the day you’d meet yours and listening to other people share their stories about it.

“Well we met in March when we were at a tech conference while he was still going to school, but I had already graduated and moved here. He still has another year before he graduates and he plans on coming out once he does, depending on if he can get a job in the area.”

“Do you think he’ll move to Denver?”

“I think so, he loved it here when he came and visited over the summer. He loved this house, and he loves the outdoors. I don’t really want to leave, either. I mean, Denver’s my home.” She says, smiling at the thought of her current surroundings.

Hearing others talk about their soulmates kind of made you envious, but you were happy for your friend. Watching her face light up as she talked about Jack was something you only wished for and couldn’t wait to experience for yourself.

Two days later, you’re back over at her place for your weekly Taco Tuesday’s - a tradition the two of you had started not too long after you met at your job a few months back. You hop out of your SUV, noticing the moving truck next to your friend’s house, and definitely not missing the large group of burly men unpacking it.

Walking into the house you shout, making your appearance known. Entering the kitchen you set the grocery bag on the counter. “Did you see that people are moving in across the street? Looks like it’s a group of guys.”

Caitlyn shrugs before continuing, “Took ‘em long enough to sell the house. That house was up for sale when I moved here in June.” She starts walking around the island, back towards the front of the house to further inspect the new neighbors, you close behind. A few of them have their shirts off, even in the brisk fall Denver air, and even with the distance, the both of you can tell there’s some serious man-candy going on across the street.

The both of you retreat back to the kitchen, getting ready to make your weekly tacos, catching up on work, friends, drama, and what had happened on this week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy. As Caitlyn was finishing up the taco meat, you went to get beers from the fridge in the garage when you heard a voice other than your friends’ in the kitchen on your way back.

Walking into the room you’re shell shocked at the group of men in front of you. No, scratch that. Shocked at one particular man in front of you. Your jaw drops as none other than Tyson Jost looks right back at you.

He marveled at the sight of you, “y/n y/l/n?”

“In the flesh” You laugh lighty.

“You live here?” He inquired, with a hint of shyness in his voice.

“No, Caitlyn lives here, but I live in the area” you respond pointing over to the blonde standing in between the two of you. You look around at the rest of the guys, remembering that it’s not just the two of you standing in your friends kitchen, having what seems like a reunion of sorts.

A deep cough comes from next to you, pulling you out of your confused, yet awe-struck state. “Hey, uh, I’m JT,” comes from the burly redhead standing a few feet away from you, “This is Alexander, Nate, and then Tyson, who I guess you already know?” He points to everyone as he says their names, a hint of question in his tone when he goes over Tyson’s name.

At this, Tyson jumps in, “She went to North Dakota, too. She knew the hockey team.”

“Oh?” JT asks, eyebrows raising towards his hairline in question.

“Uh, yeah, I was one of the tutors.” You explain briefly.

“You still talk to any of them?” Tyson asks, centering the conversation around you rather than the relationship between the two of you.

“I talk to Brock every now and then, and I’m still pretty close with Tucker.” You answer, not wanting to give too many details about your friendships with other NHLers. Tyson nods his head at you, before JT speaks up once again, steering back to the original reason of the conversation.

The boys had stopped by because they saw the open garage and needed a pair of scissors. Something you assumed a group of guys would have when moving into a new house. As the conversation came to a halt, and the boys started to leave, wanting to let you guys get back to your dinner, Tyson stops on the front porch to continue talking to you.

“So, you ended up in Denver, eh?” He asks, shoving his hands into his short pockets.

“I did, and I like it a lot so far. I got offered a job as a project manager for a company that has their corporate offices here. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to move to a new city.” As you finish talking, you realize you had started rambling a little bit, a slight blush rising to your cheeks.

Tyson smiles widely, noticing the joy and passion in your voice. A voice in the distance calling out for Tyson breaks the moment you two are having. “I should probably get back, but, uhm, if you ever want to catch up or anything don’t hesitate to text me or something.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. I’ll let you get back to moving.” You exclaim with a hint of nervousness. You weren’t sure if you should hug him goodbye, but you were a big hugger, so you awkwardly go in for a hug, to which Tyson happily consumes. The two of you go your separate ways as Tyson jogs across the street back to his house.

Walking back into Caitlyn’s kitchen, you’re snapped back to reality by the look on your friends face. Dropping your shoulders, you groan, “What?”

“I don’t know Tyson Jost, she says. We just went to college together, she says,” she mocks in a high-pitched tone. “That interaction had way too much something in it for you two to have just been acquaintances or whatever you were.”

“I promise you I barely know him. I just always thought he was cute like everyone else did and the guys loved to make fun of me for it. He’s also four years younger than me.” You reveal embarrassingly, a small smile coming to your face thinking back on some of the memories you had. “Like, my senior year, they made me show up to a jersey party at the hockey house wearing his jersey. I think I was the only one at the whole party even wearing something NoDak related, too. It was just dumb, little stuff.”

“Aw, that’s kind of cute.” Caitlyn gushes, taking a sip from her beer. The two of you start to make your tacos, and sit in a comfortable silence while eating.

It’s halfway through dinner you realize you don’t even have Tyson’s phone number, contemplating on whether or not you want to text him. “Should I text him?” You ask. “I barely know him and now he’s an up-and-coming professional athlete.”

“You’re both new to the city, so I don’t see the harm in it?” Your friend reasons.

You nod in agreement, trying to figure out how you’re even going to get his phone number. Picking up your phone, you go to text Tucker.

Y/N: would you happen to have tyson josts number :-) Tucker: thought you didnt want it Y/N: yeah funny story actually Y/N: i guess he lives across the street from my coworker now Tucker: ur kidding Y/N: i wish i was Tucker: i knew you two would somehow find each other Y/N: whatever

Tucker ends up texting you Tyson’s phone number a little bit later, and after a lot of typing and retyping you finally settle on a simple “hey” with a simple smiley face, letting him know it’s you.

Once you had sent the first initial text to Tyson a few days ago, it seemed like the two of you had been friends all along. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, only texting one another when you really had the time to.

Part of you was nervous that the two of you had really never hung out, apart from those few occasions back at school, but even then it was never just the two of you. You had contemplated asking Caitlyn to come over in case it got awkward. In the end, you didn’t let your nerves get the best of you and you went through with going over to his house to meet up with him.

Knocking on the front door, you twist your hands together in anticipation.

The large wooden door swings open to reveal a very smiling Tyson, “Hey!” He moves to the side to let you in but as you pass him he opens his arm signaling for a hug.

You wrap one arm around him, half leaning into his side for a side hug as you greet him in return. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great, development camp just ended. I got the letter saying I made the opening day roster, so still trying to get used to that.” He answers with a small laugh. His hands are resting in his front hoodie pocket, and you notice how nice his posture is. You look over him, also noting that his legs look much thicker than you remember and his chest is much broader, even under the expanse of his hoodie.

“That’s great” You compliment, feet planted to the ground once you slip your shoes off. The two of you are still standing in the foyer of his home. The air around the two of you almost makes it feel like one of those ‘we met online and we’re now meeting each other for the first time’ moments.

Tyson starts walking, leading the two of you to his kitchen before asking if you want anything to drink.

“Water would be awesome.” You answer, moving to take a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

Tyson closes the fridge, handing you a water bottle. “So how long have you been in Denver?”

“Since June, so three months?” You say, counting on your fingers. “I got the job not too long after I graduated but I went on vacation with some friends before moving. What about you?”

“I actually came down in April after the UND season ended, but only for a few games. I just got back, like, two weeks ago.” He starts, leaning his elbows down against the counter in front of you. “I was in a hotel until you saw us moving in the other day, actually.”

“Why’s that?” You ask, knitting your eyebrows in confusion.

“So like, the way it works is that you have to make the team during development camp and if you don’t you’ll go back to wherever you were playing before. I already lost my NCAA eligibility when I left, so if I didn’t make the team I would’ve gone down to San Antonio where our AHL team is.” Tyson explains, hands moving around in the air as he speaks.

You nod your head as he speaks, starting to understand the process of how one makes the NHL. “Well, I think you’ll love it here. I’ve only been here for a few months and I can’t stop thinking about how perfect this place is.” You gush.

“Yeah, I’m really excited for the season. The guys are all really nice and welcoming already.” He muses. His eyes crinkle a little bit, a sure sign of happiness as he smiles.

You smile in response, “From what I remember back at school, you were pretty good, too.”

A small blush rises on his tan cheeks and the tips of his ears. He pushes a hand through the curls on the top of his head with a shrug. “You majored in marketing?” Tyson asks, changing the subject. He was never one to talk about himself too much, even with all of his accomplishments.

“I did!” you exclaim, surprised he even remembered that about you. “I’m a project manager, so I basically manage a few different projects at a time at a marketing firm. I like it a lot so far. That’s how I know Caitlyn, the girl across the street.” You point in her general direction, gesturing to the house across the street.

“What part of the city do you live in?” He asks curiously. He stands up straight again, leaving his hands resting on the counter.

“Over in Westwood, in a townhouse.” You answer, once again stunned at his ability to remember small details from previous conversations. “It’s just southwest of downtown and like, 20 minutes from here.”

“I haven't really gotten the chance to really explore the area too much, so I have no idea where that is.” He laughs.

You laugh along with him, “We can always figure it out together if you want, because I haven’t done too much either.” You freeze up slightly at your request, not really knowing where your bravery came from.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” He agrees. “Being around a bunch of hockey players all the time can be a little much. Besides, it’s nice to have familiar faces around, eh?” He quirks his eyebrow at you.

“For sure.” You agree, taking another sip from your water. “You have any other plans for the day?”

“Other than this, no.”

“I was thinking,” you start, “we could order food or something? I can start showing you the best food places around.”

“Yeah, I’m actually getting kinda hungry. What’re you thinking?” He asks, making a show to rub at his belly.

“I found a really good ramen place a few weeks ago that I really liked if you’re down to try that?” You suggest, pulling your phone out planning to pull up the menu for the two of you.

“Sure, I’m down to try anything.”

You stand up from where you were sitting to move over to him, placing your phone on the counter so both you and Tyson can look at the screen. He moves closer to you, shoulders now touching as you both look down at the phone in front of you quietly. He’s comfortable enough to scroll on the website on his own, even with the newness of your friendship.

As you move to fully stand straight up next to him, the brush of the side of your upper arm against his sends a sort of static through your body. You shrug your arm, moving a few inches away from the man next to you.

“Do you know what you want? I can call and place the order.” You suggest, gesturing towards your phone. He pushes the phone over to you, telling you what he wants before saying he’ll venmo you for his part.

A little while later, once you’ve driven to downtown Denver and back, you have ramen in front of you as the two of you sit out on the back deck trying to enjoy the last of the warm weather.

The two of you sit across from one another eating in the quiet when JT walks out. “You guys got food and didn’t ask me if I wanted any? I’m hurt.”

Your eyes gaze between him and to Tyson, before Tyson speaks up, “Not my problem you weren’t around when we ordered it.”

You chuckle lightly at the interaction in front of you as JT rolls his eyes looking for a response. Instead of verbally responding, he walks over to take a seat next to his roommate, giving him a shove as he passes by him.

“So, y/n, have you found your soulmate yet?”

“Bro, what is with you and your need to ask every single person you know that?” Tyson groans, dropping his fork into his bowl.

“What, it’s fascinating!” He exclaims, leaning back into his seat.

“Yeah, because you basically already know who yours is.”

“You already have a soulmate?” You ask, swallowing the bit of noodles in your mouth.

“Technically, no,” He starts, dragging out the ‘no’. “But I’m convinced I know who it actually is.”

“He met this girl over the summer and felt some ‘connection’ to her or whatever.” Tyson says, doing finger quotations around connection.

“Shut up,” JT groans. “I swear the world stopped when we made eye contact and then we talked and I was just blown away.”

You look at him as he talks, but you notice Tyson next to him, mouthing the words JT is speaking. You giggle a little, causing Tyson to smile.

“I think that’s great, you’ll have to keep me updated on it all.” You say with a smile on your face. Tyson and JT continue to bicker like the best friends you're starting to see they are, as you sit and continue eating your ramen. The way Tyson easily chirps him and laughs makes your stomach do tiny little flips.

January 2018 - Pepsi Center, Denver, CO

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best friend ever?” Caitlyn exclaims with glee.

You laugh loudly, holding open the door to the Pepsi Center for your friend to walk through. “You mean have you ever told me that you love that I’m friends with NHL players so I can get good tickets? Once or twice.”

The Winnipeg Jets were in town, meaning Tucker would be playing Tyson for the first time at the NHL level. Tucker had let you know a few weeks ago that he would be in town briefly to play the Avs, and what he didn’t know was that Tyson had also told you the other day about the game. Tucker offered to get you and a friend tickets to the game, which you happily took.

Now, the both of you are walking around on the concourse level, looking for a good place to stop and get drinks before puck drop.

Caitlyn turns to you after you both get your drinks, “Does Tucker know that you’re talking to Tyson?”

“No, I’d thought I’d let him figure it out on his own. I mean, he was one of the guys that always pushed us two to get to know each other so I don't want to make a big deal out of nothing yet.” You shrug.

“Didn’t you say we’re all getting brunch tomorrow though? Won’t he know then?”

“He knows, yeah, but he doesn’t know that I know Tyson will be there. Just a little payback for all the pranks he pulled back in college.”

You guys finally locate your seats in the lower bowl, drifting your conversation to the game itself. You knew Caitlyn was a big hockey fan, her being from Michigan and all, so you were happy you finally got to see her in her element.

The Avs scoot by with an overtime win, not seeing too much action from either Tyson or Tucker on the official score sheet. As you guys exit the arena, you shoot a text to both Tyson and Tucker individually, letting them know they played good games.

The next morning both you and Caitlyn are running a little behind getting to brunch, catching an odd amount of Denver traffic on the way to the chosen restaurant.

Walking through the glass doors of the restaurant, you wipe your snow covered feet off on the mat before looking up trying to either spot the mop of curls atop Tyson’s head or Tucker’s broad shoulders.

You catch Tyson’s eyes before Tucker spots you, giving him a small wave and smile before you and Caitlyn make your way over to their table. Tyson stands to give you a hug before Tucker can and when you pull away, you see a look of confusion on Tucker’s face. You move to give him a tight hug, letting him know how much you’ve missed having him around.

Once Caitlyn introduces herself to Tucker, the two of you take your seats across from them in the booth.

“I feel like the two of you are all grown up! My two not-so-little NHLers,” You squeal jokingly. Tyson laughs with a slight blush at this, while Tucker, who’s across from you, rolls his eyes.

“No no no, we’re not doing that.” Tucker laughs. “You can see how we’re doing with one google search. How’re you? How’s work?”

“Very good!” You exclaim, “Caitlyn and I have this really innovative project coming up that we’re super excited for.”

“The one with Finish Line?” Tyson jumps in, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah that one!” Caitlyn answers. You can tell she’s about to explain it further with the way she leans forward over the table.

Tucker cuts her off before she can continue to explain it, “What the fuck? How did you know that?”

“She was telling me the other day about it when I was at her place.” Tyson answers quickly.

“You were at her place?” Tucker asks, growing even more confused.

“Yeah, he was helping me with my new desk. Caitlyn was out of town so she couldn’t help.” You answer without hesitation.

“Oh! You got it set up?” Caitlyn asks the two of you. “You’ll have to send me a picture when you get home.” The way Caitlyn jumps into the conversation doesn’t help Tucker’s confusion one bit as he stares at the three of you blankly,

“So you’re telling me the two of you, like, hang out?” Tucker asks, pointing between the two of you.

“Mhhm,” you hum with a tight-lipped smile. “Not too often, though.” Before Tucker can muster up a response the waitress appears to take your breakfast orders.

“We’ve only really hung out a few times since we reconnected a few months ago,” You continue once the waitress walks away. “Like, maybe two or three times?” You look at Tyson for confirmation to which he nods his head with a quick ‘yep’.

“So, you actually ended up texting him?” Tucker asks you.

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I have?”

“You literally avoided him all of spring semester.” Tucker states. Realization of what he’s talking about hits you and you sink back into the cushioned booth, your stomach tightening up with nerves.

Tyson, who looked like he was just checking something on his phone, whips his head up to look at his old teammate next to him.

“I did not,” You stutter, eyes shooting daggers at the Jets player across from you. “He drove me home from the bar once and then I didn’t see him again until a few months ago.”

“And you guys hooked up and then we never saw you in the same room again.” He says casually, reaching for his glass of water and bringing it to his lips. You choke on your coffee at his remark, going into a fit of coughing once you set your mug back down in front of you.

“Dude,” Tyson warns roughly and slaps at Tucker’s chest.

“What? No one knew where the two of you went and you wouldn’t really say anything about it when we all asked!”

“You told everyone we hooked up?” You ask, staring blankly at Tyson in disbelief.

“I literally told the whole team that some asshole spilled his drink on her and drove her home and then ended up going home right after instead of back to the bar.” Tyson says through gritted teeth. His stern gaze turns from Tucker towards your face, eyes turning soft when he sees your mouth slightly agape.

“I swear I never said anything happened between the two of us.” He promises to you, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes stay focused on him for a while longer. The breath you didn’t mean to hold in is let out a huff of air once you see the sincerity behind his eyes.

“Tucker, that was literally just a coincidence that we never saw each other, and besides, Tyson told me he left school to come down to Denver right after the banquet.” You say, turning your attention back to him.

“Okay, sorry about the assumption.” Tucker apologizes, moreso to you than to Tyson. A smirk plays at his lips and you know exactly where he’s taking this conversation. Before you’re able to derail him and switch the topic to anything else he opens his mouth once again. “Everyone knew you guys were attracted to one another so it wasn’t a stretch to think.”

Your previous embarrassment comes back full force with your cheeks heating up. You pick up your coffee mug once again taking a sip, this time to hopefully hide the pink tint on the apples of your cheeks. You take notice at how Tyson doesn’t move to discount Tucker’s comment this time and especially notice the tips of his ears turning pink.

It’s almost like you’re saved by the bell as the waitress walks up the table, arms full of your food. The rest of your brunch is spent catching up and telling Caitlyn all about what it was like at UND, while she shared stories about herself as well as her soulmate.

All throughout brunch, you couldn’t shake the feeling of the pull you felt towards the man that was sitting kitty-corner to you. Even as you and Caitlyn parted ways from the guys once you left, you swore you felt a part of yourself walk away with them. It may have been a feeling you couldn’t shake, but you still chose to ignore it as the two of you walked back to the parking garage Caitlyn’s car was located.

tag list: @REAVENEDGES-LIES (if you want to be added just let me know)

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #nhl imagine #alex writes #ybtmastm fic

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