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onlyfezco · 4 months ago

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Best Birthday Ever - Fezco

Summary: It's Fez's birthday and the first time you're celebrating the special day together. You want everything to be perfect but it's not exactly how you imagined it.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Author's Note: Happy birthday Angus. I already got emotional this morning and I'm going to make brownies tonight in his honor. Sweet baby angel gone too soon 🩵 I had this idea last week when I realized his birthday was today and thought it be a nice way to think of him. Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Fezco's birthday was today! Fez and you had only been dating for a few months, four to be exact, and this was your first major event together. He said he normally didn't make a big deal out of his birthday. Since his grandma's accident, it's just been him and Ashtray. Normally Ash would just give him one of those hostess cupcakes from the store and put a candle in it. Then they would end up at In-N-Out for dinner, then back at home to watch whatever movie Fez wanted. It was simple, but enough. No need to make a big fuss.

This year was going to be different, because he had you.

"Happy birthday, baby," you said as you walked into the store. Fez was sitting on the counter, a big grin on his face at the sight of you.

"Thanks, ma," he replied hopping down so he could hug you properly. You practically bounced on your feet to him and squished him as tight as possible in your arms without crushing the stuff in your hands.

"This is for you," you said as you pulled apart careful not to smush the bag you brought and the balloon attached. You handed him the iconic In-N-Out white bag with a T-Rex saying "Have a Dino-mite birthday" balloon attached to it.

"You didn't have to bring me lunch," Fez said as he opened the bag to peak inside at what you got him. You knew his go to order by now, so you already knew he'd like it.

"It's your birthday, and you decided to come to work. The least I could do is bring you lunch."

"Is that one for you," Fez asked, pointing to the other white bag behind you.

"Uh no," you said holding the bag up. "This one is for Ash. I didn't feel like hearing him complain that I brought you lunch and left him to starve." You rolled your eyes at the thought of the younger O'Neil whining, but you'd happily get him lunch.

"He's back there," Fez said nodding towards the freezers.

You made your way behind the sodas and beers spotting Ash in the same spot he's usually in at the store.

"Here," you said placing the bag on the desk Ash was sitting at. "Can't say I never got you anything."

"What, no balloon," Ash asked as he turned around in his chair to face you.

You tilted your head a him, a small smile on your face. "Don't be cheeky. You got your key," you asked holding your hand out.

"Yeah, yeah," Ash said. He reached into his front pocket for his house key, then dropped it in your hand. "Make sure you turn the alarm off in 30 seconds, or-"

"I know," you replied, dropping the key in your purse. "Just make sure Fez stays here so I can have enough time to make his cake and set up."

"I got you," Ash nodded then turned around to began pulling his food out. "And thanks for the burger."

"No problem, little man."

You walked out the freezer spotting Fez shoveling fries in his mouth. "I'm gonna head out, but I'll see you later. Call me when you get home."

"Okay, ma."

You gave him a kiss on his check then leaned back eyeing him. "You know there are napkins in that bag," you chuckled as you reached up to wipe some ketchup off the corner of his mouth.

"Why use a napkin when I have you," Fez replied as he grabbed your hand to place your finger in his mouth to lick the ketchup off.

You scrunched up your face in disgust but couldn't deny how cute your boyfriend was. "Ew, bye birthday boy," you said laughing pushing him away from you.

Once you got to Fez's house, you made sure to park a little further up the street so it would be a surprise that you were there. You walked into the kitchen and set all your supplies down on the counter.

"Okay, let's do this."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, began playing your Summer playlist, and got to work.

Fez was a simple guy and liked yellow cake with chocolate frosting. You knew this because he took you to a diner and he raved about the cake. Well, raved for Fezco. Which meant he mentioned it before you went, ordered it for dessert, and ate the whole slice of cake in silence leaving no crumb behind.

You had only made a cake one other time with your mom when you were 10. Cookies were more your dessert of choice to bake, but you could do this for Fezco.

The batter was easy enough. You got a little messy when you poured in some of the wet ingredients. It would have been a lot worse if you made it from scratch, but thank God for Betty Crocker. Once you slid the pans in the oven to bake, you got to work on the decorations. You cleared the kitchen table off for the birthday tablecloth you got from the Dollar Tree. Sliding a kitchen chair to give your more height, you hung up the 'happy birthday' banner next. Last, you blew up a few balloons to hang around the banner.

You still needed to wrap your gifts, but you knew you had time once the cake cooled before you could put icing on it.

Once your alarm went off you took the pans out of the oven. One of them was a little more uneven than the other, but you were sure if you just put more frosting on one side it would balance out and not even be noticeable.

With the cake out of the way until it was cool, you began wrapping your gifts for Fez. One was already in a box so it was simple, but the other was going to be difficult. Yeah, you could have easily put the gift in a bag and throw some colorful paper on top, but you just preferred wrapped gifts. There was something about ripping the paper off to reveal a surprise that was more fun than just pulling it out of a bag. You knew you were making this difficult on yourself, but it was for Fez.

Your first wrapping attempt didn't go so hot. The item wasn't square so it was hard to fold the corners down. You took a deep breath and tried again. Attempt two resulted in the gift looking like you just balled the wrapping paper up. Now you were frustrated. This should be easy. You pulled up one of those Youtube videos on how to wrap weird items and just ended up with more of a bag look. You folded the paper first, then just slid your gift inside and taped the top shut.

You could finally move on to frosting the cake. Flipping the pans over, the cakes should have just slid right on out. You know you used enough grease. Taking a butter knife, you placed it between the cake and the pan to loosen it up. Flipping it again, the cake finally fell out.

"Ugh, thank you." You may have spoke too soon because when you felt the cake, it was still a little warm. "Shit."

Well it was just the bottom of the cake so maybe it wouldn't matter so much.

It mattered. The frosting wasn't sitting correctly. It got extremely soft and sort of slid off wherever you put it. You gave up and tried putting the cake in the fridge for a while. That should work. You could wash all the pans and bowls you used in the meantime, and you still had time before Fez got home.

Then your phone beeped letting you know you had a text.

Ashtray: Fez is closing up early. We're cleaning up then heading home.

"Shit."

The sound of the front door opening made you halt your movements, eyes shooting up to the entryway. You placed the butter knife down you were using to ice the cake and quickly made your way around the counter to the kitchen table.

"Surprise," you shouted. It came out a little more awkward than you'd like but you were unprepared and it made you flustered.

Fez's big grin was better than the lackluster smile you currently had on your face, but it didn't make you feel much better.

"You did this," Fez said gesturing to the decorations you put up. He knew it was you because Ash would never and this was very on brand for you. But he was just so surprised anyone would go through so much trouble for him, he couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah," you answered nodding. You clasped your hands in front of you, fidgeting with your fingers. "Um, I made a cake too but it's...," you trailed off, pointing back to the kitchen.

Fez rounded the corner to see the cake you made. Lopsided and half frosted.

"It's not all the way done," you said quickly. You stepped in front of him to block his view. "It takes longer for a cake to cool than I thought. I tried to hurry it and the frosting melted a little. Then I just put it in the fridge, and by the time Ash texted me that you were coming home... that's as far as I got."

"It's fine, baby. You can finish it now," Fez said. He saw the disappointment on your face and wanted to make you feel better.

"I thought I timed everything right. It's not even like I had much to do. I should've just made the cake yesterday like my mom said-"

"Y/N," Fez said reaching out to you. He grabbed you by your forearms to stop you from fidgeting. "It's fine. I'm just happy I got a cake at all."

"But it's all lopsided and only half of it's covered in frosting." You wouldn't meet his eye and you began tearing up. You were already sad, but now you were mad you were about to cry on Fez's birthday. He shouldn't be trying to make you feel better about your mistake on his day.

Fezco lowered his head to try to see your eyes. He hated that you were upset. "Ma, I know it's not exactly like you pictured it, but I'm sure it's still going to taste good. You know I don't need much."

"I just... I wanted everything to be perfect for you," you said, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's our first major thing together, and birthdays are really important to me."

Fez reached up, lifting your chin with his hand so you would look at him. "It is perfect, baby. You made it for me, and that's all I need for this to be more than enough."

"It's just-," you began before Fez interrupted.

"I love it. And I love you."

Fez said I love you. Fez just said he loves you! Your eyes went wide at his confession. It felt like your heart grew and was about to explode out of your chest.

"You do," you asked softly. Scared that if you spoke too loudly you'd wake up because this had to be a dream.

Pulling you in by the waist before he answered nodding, "Yeah... I do."

Before he could full process what you were doing, you placed you hands on his face and pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers pressed into his cheeks feeling the coarse hair of his beard. It didn't take him long to kiss you back, his lips practically melting into yours. His other hand wrapped around your waist pulling your body firm against his.

Finally having to come up for air, you two pulled apart with a breathless laugh. Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at Fez doe eyed. "I love you, too."

Once you let go of the idea of tonight being perfect, everything went fine. Fez ordered some Chinese food while you finished frosting his cake. Now you knew you had to slice the top part of the cake off for it to be flat before you frosted it and can't just add more frosting to try to balance it out. You live and you learn.

Fez insisted on picking up the Chinese despite your protest. Once he got back, the three of you sat at the table and ate together. When you were all done, you went to the kitchen to light the candles on his cake.

"Get the lights, Ash," you directed, not leaving any room for debate. He rolled his eyes but did as you said. He just wanted some cake and didn't care for the theatrics.

You slowly made your way to the table singing happy birthday, the glow from the candles lighting up your face. Ash even sang along. More like mumbled, but it was better than nothing. Placing the cake in front of your boyfriend, you couldn't help but be proud of the smile that lined his face. You put that smile there.

After he devoured two slices of cake, Fez rubbed his hands together excited for his gifts.

"Okay, open this one first," you said placing the small gift in front of him. Ashtray did get his brother a gift, but he was too excited and gave it to him at breakfast before they left for the store.

He quickly ripped off the paper revealing the Polo by Ralph Lauren cologne. "I thought since you wore so much Polo, you'd appreciate some of their cologne," you said shyly explaining your gift choice.

Fez opened the box and pulled out the green bottle spraying a little on his wrist so he could get a good whiff of the scent.

"Nice," he said nodding his head liking the fragrance. "Thanks, baby." He leaned over and gave you a peck on your cheek. Your smile widened that he liked your gift. Colognes and perfumes were always hard to gift because you never knew if the other person would like it, but you knew Fezco well enough now. Even that being said, you were still a little worried about it.

You were also worried about your second gift. It's wasn't anything big, and you thought he may think it was dumb. That's why you gave him the nicer gift first so this one wouldn't have so much pressure on it.

"Okay, here's your second gift. It's nothing fancy, but I got an idea and ran with it."

This one wasn't wrapped as nicely as the cologne, but Fez knew he'd be happy with whatever you got him. "I already love it."

You giggled, "You haven't even opened it yet."

"It's from you so I already know I'll love it," he said leaning over to kiss you on the lips.

"Just open it," you replied.

He quickly ripped the wrapping paper off then carefully examined the gift. You eyed him waiting on his reaction. It was a ashtray you made by hand, painted green, with a heart in the middle that had both your initials in it. It looked like an art project a fourth grader made in class.

"I was at Michaels and they had this clay. I didn't know what I could make with it at first, and I know you already have enough ashtrays, but I wanted to make you something and that looked like the easiest-", you babbled, your nerves over if he liked it or not getting the best of you.

"You made this," Fez asked interrupting you.

"Uh, yeah," you answered hesitantly.

Fez put the ashtray down and pulled you into his lap. "I love it, ma," he said before connecting his lips with yours.

"Ew," Ash said as he got up from the table but neither of you paid him any mind.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in closer to you. You could still taste the chocolate frosting on his lips. He squeezed your hip gently before he pulled away from you. "I love it. I can't believe you made this for me."

You laughed, your eyes crinkling in the process, "Babe, it's just a clay ashtray. Not like I knitted you a whole sweater."

"No one's ever made me anything," Fez said, his hand sliding up and down your thigh. "Well, Ash made stuff when he was in like the second grade, but that was just because the whole class was making stuff and he had to. But this...," he said lightly touching the ashtray, "you made this with your beautiful hands for me. I couldn't ask for a better birthday gift."

"Aww, baby," you cooed, your hand coming from around his neck to rest on his face. His beard rough against your soft palm.

It was moments like these that let Fezco know there was a God. Because how on Earth, could a low life drug dealer like him get lucky enough to not only find you, but have you love him. He stared at you intently, admiring every detail on your face.

Your face got hot under his gaze. "What," you asked laughing awkwardly.

"Nothing, I just love you."

You grinned wide, heart overflowing with love and pride at his words. "I love you, too." Then you leaned in for a chaste kiss. "Best birthday ever,"

"It's not even your birthday," Fez corrected, chuckling. "It's mines."

You shook your head. "I don't care. Best. Birthday. Ever," you said, punctuated each word with a kiss to his lips. To love and to be loved, you couldn't ask for anything better.

#fezco x reader #fez fanfic #fez x reader #fezco one shot #fezco #euphoria

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anyarose011 · 6 months ago

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Too Late To Turn Back Now {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: A dislocated shoulder, an insult to end all men, a few lies, going out to eat, and an unwanted revelation about Angus Tully. What a perfect way to celebrate Christmas Eve-Eve.

Part 4 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of arm injury, mentions of underage drinking, minor harassment, and discussion of cancer.

This was one of the more lighthearted and fun as hell chapters to write, so I hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 5.0k

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Apparently, Angus Tully had gone on another adventure without you. One probably shouldn’t call it an adventure if he went to the chapel, and merely stared at the photo of your dead friend for hours on end.

“Do you think he was praying?” You asked Mary after she told you that while you were helping her make lunch.

“I think he’s just as religious as you.”

You scoffed. “He’d never become a priest.”

“You’d make a lousy nun.”

“I’d be a fun one.”

Once the four of you sat down to eat, your father tried to give you cookies you knew for a fact were given to you by Miss Crane. You also knew they were a week old at this point. Still, to spare your father’s feelings, you broke off a piece. You then put it in your mouth, nodding with a smile before bringing your napkin to your lips as if to clean them, when really you just spat the cookie into it.

Immediately, Angus asked to go to the bathroom, and you knew he wasn’t doing that, but you couldn’t blame him.

“I’m trying.” Your father shrugged, and all you and Mary could do was laugh.

You helped her was the dishes after that, and went back out to the dining hall, still seeing your dad sitting at the same table, alone.

“Everything alright?” You asked.

“Yes, just waiting on Mr. Tully.”

“You honestly can’t force him to learn today.” You scoffed, leaning against one of the chairs. “It’s Christmas Eve-Eve.”

“You always had lessons on Christmas Eve-Eve, and you didn’t complain.”

“I did.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Several times.”

He sighed. “I’ll let him out early by an hour; if you attend as well.”

“Never mind, let him rot.”

“I thought so.” He got up from his chair. “Where on God’s green earth is that boy?”

You watched him leave through the doors Angus took ten minutes ago, and as you were about to go into the kitchen to (lovingly) bother Mary some more, you heard shouting. Now of course, you were (and still are) a nosey bitch, so you had no choice but to also go through the doors leading out into the hallway. You heard Angus first.

“There’s nobody here, okay? Just us two losers, a grieving mom, and your-.”

His face and words fell once he saw you enter, and your father turned to see you standing in the doorframe, looking as if you wandered into something you shouldn’t have. Then, you threw on the attitude.

“What am I now?”

He looked away. “Nothing.”

“Oh, wow!” You began with fake enthusiasm.

“I didn’t mean-.”

“-No, no of course you didn’t.”

Your father stepped in. “That’s enough from the both of you. Mr. Tully, I can forgive you for using the phone without permission if-.”

“-If what?” He interrupted. “No, let’s cut the shit: You stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours.”

Of course, your father had detention slips in his back pocket, and of course he threw one up. “That’s a detention.”

Angus pushed past him, groaning and walking fast down the hall. You pursed your lips. “You really showed him.”

“Stuff it, Lady Macbeth.” He scolded, then called Angus. “You just earned yourself a detention, sir. Now, get back here!”

Angus looked back. “Being here with you is already one big fucking detention!”

“Son of a bitch, that’s another detention!”

In response, Angus knocked over a trash can, which caused your father to run like you’d never seen him run before. You should be ashamed that your first instinct was to laugh, but you weren’t and you still aren’t.

You should also have felt like a fool for deciding to run after them as if it were a game. Again, you didn’t feel like one then, and if you were to do it again as an old woman, you would in a heartbeat.

You saw as Angus tore off posters from the wall and would stop at corners just to taunt your father. Then, after running around more than half the school (you had no idea how much honestly, but it was enough for you), you stopped outside of the gym with the both of them. Even with Angus’s back turned, you knew he was contemplating the unthinkable.

“Don’t you even think about it, Mr. Tully.” Your father warned, panting from running. “You are a hair’s breadth from suspension. I’ll wash my hands of you, you hear me? Wash my hands.” Angus ignored him, stepping into the gym.

You followed your father as he kept going. “Stop right there, you know the gym is strictly off limits. This is your Rubicon. Do not cross the Rubicon.”

Angus took one look at the gym equipment, then back to the two of you. “Alea jacta est.”

He winked at you before springing towards the trampoline, bouncing off of it and over the balance beam. When his body landed with a hard ‘thud!’, you and your father were stricken with tense silence.

Which was then broken when an inhuman scream ripped from Angus’ throat.

Still, as your father looked on in horror, you said (being completely unbothered). “He’s faking it.”

When his screams didn’t subside, and you only heard them grow louder and he threw in more explicate language, your smile fell. It was when he got to his knees did you see how mangled his left arm looked, and you felt like you were going to throw up.

Angus Tully was one step ahead of you in that department, and that’s all we should say about that (not that he nearly puked on you; if anyone ever says that, they’re lying and should be shot on sight).

So, that was how, on the afternoon of Christmas Eve-Eve, you came to be standing outside of your father’s shitty 1964 Nova. You and Angus, who was crying while wearing half of his jacket, were shivering violently, waiting for your father to scrape off the car.

“Hurry up!” Both you and him would beg.

“I am hurrying!” Would be your father’s only response, and you saw his face grow redder every time either of you would yell.

Luckily, he managed to (somehow) scrape it all off and you three piled into the car. Even though you were going to anyway, you father insisted you sit in the front (more than likely because he knew you and Angus would probably try to kill each other in a high tense situation, and who would’ve figured he was right).

“I was on thin ice already.” Your father panicked at you as he stepped on the gas to the hospital. “If Woodrup finds out, the facts won’t matter, he’ll make it my fault.”

“It is your fault!” Angus cried from the back of the car, trying to hold his mangled arm up. “You were supposed to be looking after me!”

“I told you to stop!”

“You said you washed your hands of me!”

“No, I meant it metaphorically!”

“Of course you meant it metaphorically. What were you gonna do, actually go and wash your hands?!”

Your father turned back to the road. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable, I said I will wash my hands, never once did I say it in the present tense!”

“I don’t know, Pontius Pilate.” You shrugged. “This Jesus guy makes a good point.”

When he hissed your real name, you nearly shrank into your seat. “I don’t need any more of this from you. You were the one to tell me he was faking it anyway!”

“You said that?!” Angus yelled. “Jesus, I knew you hated all men.”

“Not true.” You turned around to look at him. “I would’ve said the exact same thing about a woman, especially if I heard her screaming from your room!”

Out of all the times you made a man cry and left him speechless, this one was and forever will be your favorite (obviously he was crying from his arm, but you liked to think your comment also did that). Your father scolded you for your foul mouth, but it was 100% worth it.

There you three sat in the emergency room, waiting for over an hour for a nurse to let you in, when your father started monologuing to himself.

“This is the end. They’ll inform the school, who will inform your parents, and then it’s curtains. You’re gonna get me fired; you.” He looked at Angus, then you. “I hope you like sleeping in the snow, Josephine.”

“I love it more than life itself.” You rolled your eyes.

Angus grumbled. “I’m the one about to lose an arm and all you can think about is yourself.”

“Hey, he was worried about me.” You pointed out.

He turned and glared at you, and you actually felt bad for the first time that day.

A nurse soon approached you, handing your father a clipboard and pen. “If you could just fill this out, please. Admissions and insurance.”

Your father, hesitantly, begins to fill it out. It sounded like a joke at first, having to sleep somewhere else, but honestly what were you going to do? You and your father lived in the faculty housing ever since-.

“-Excuse me?” Angus asked the nurse as she was walking away. “Is there any way we could skip this whole insurance thing?”

“It’s just standard procedure.”

“I understand. But look, we were over at Squantz pond playing hockey, and I slipped on the ice.”

Your father whispered. “Angus, what are you doing?”

But he kept going, glancing at you for a moment. “Our mom told him not to take us, but I made him. Our folks are divorced, and we don’t get to see each other very often. She’ll be mad as a hornet if she finds out.”

The nurse still didn’t let up. “Okay, that’s your business. But we just have certain protocols.”

“Yeah, protocols.” Your father tried to warn.

Angus didn’t listen to either. “Please, we ever get to see my dad. It was my fault, all mine. I don’t want to get him in trouble.” He looked at you. “We can’t have her dragging him to court again.”

You shook your head, swallowing a pretend lump in your throat. “No. Last time was…oh god.”

He looked back at the nurse. “Can we skip the whole insurance thing? We can pay cash. Right, Dad?”

What a sucker; it took you and Angus to do ‘Kicked Puppy” eyes for a minute, and she was brining the three of you in to the see the doctor in three.

When they were removing his shirt, they told him first look away from the arm, but they didn’t inform you.

“Is it that bad?” He asked upon hearing your audible disgust.

“Not the worst thing I’ve seen in a hospital.”

Your father slugged you, but not hard enough for it to hurt. Still, the whole thing was a blur as they popped Angus’ arm back into its socket. It was dislocated, not broken, and a part of you selfishly wish that it had been just to spare you from the disgusting noises. That and also Angus’s screaming, as if you hadn’t been objectified to that enough.

The three of you were leaving after Angus' arm was tied in a sling, when your father spoke up.

“Barton men don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Angus asked, readjusting his sling.

"Lie."

“Well, I had momentum.”

“Mhm,” he looked at you. “what’s your excuse?”

You shrugged. “I don’t go to Barton, and I’m not a man. Thank God, by the way, considering I hate all of them.”

Even though you said that sarcastically, neither of the men said you were wrong.

When you three made it to the pharmacy, and your father handed over the prescription, the pharmacist went to search for it. Angus lowered his voice, saying to your dad.

“You said that if Woodrup finds out, you and her screwed. So now he won’t find out.”

“What if your parents ask?” You questioned.

“Never going to happen. Trust me.”

Your father raised his brows. “Okay, then. This all remains entre nous. Got it? You know what entre nous means?”

“Oui, monsieur.” He smirked “Now you owe me.”

“Owe you?” Your father gasped. “Do not try to leverage me, Mr. Tully.”

“All I’m looking for is little thank you that I did something nice for you. That’s all.”

You shrugged, deciding you wanted a treat too. “It is Christmas Eve-Eve.”

Your father took you all out to ‘The Winning Ticket’; the classiest tavern within 50 miles. Classy being the less dingy, place in Barton. As your father and ‘Friend of Some Sort’ had a minor debate on underage drinking, you saw the last waitress you wanted approach.

“Miss Crane, as I live and breathe.” Your father sounded amazed as if he saw Aphrodite herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hi guys!” She laughed “Yeah, I always pick up a little extra work over Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Well uh,” he gestured to Angus. “This is Mr. Tully.” Then to you beside him. “And this is-you already know my daughter.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “quite well. My niece knows her too if you can believe that.”

He laughed a little louder than he should have, and you wanted to crawl under the table and bang your head against the metal support until you split your skull open.

“Oh, and sure, I know you.” Miss Crane nodded to Angus.

“Angus Tully,” he smiled. “we met outside of Dr. Woodrup’s office. I was wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet.”

“Well, I didn’t know about the ‘wrongly’ part. I just know that miss Hunham talks a lot about you when she visits.”

Aaand now you wanted to just take any of the silverware off the table (even the spoon would work) and stab yourself.

“Does she?” He teased.

You were quick with a comeback. “About how ridiculously annoying you are. I was baking cookies and Elise nearly crawled into the oven because the things I said about you were just too horrible for her to hear.”

“Now be nice.” Your father said.

“When have I never?”

The three of you ordered (after another discussion about alcohol and underage drinking with Miss Crane this time), and it did not escape you or Angus how your father’s eyes were still on her even after she left.

“Ouch,” Angus smiled. “you two have chemistry.”

“That’s the Percodan talking.” Your father pointed out.

“I don’t know, seeing her like this, I think she’s pretty attractive.”

You gagged, not even having the will to come up with a good comeback, you were so disgusted. Thankfully, your father had one.

“Listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.”

You never gave it much thought; your father dating women after your mother died. He just never truly seemed that interested in anyone, and he said it himself, he never goes out. Still…while you do want him to be happy, the woman of interest is your best friend’s aunt-.

Angus pursed his lips. “May I at least go to the bathroom? Sir? “

“You mean the payphone?” Even when he saw Angus’ eyes darken, your father still was not stirred. “Jo March, accompany him, please.”

You sighed. “Why do I have to be his keeper?”

“Because I, Pontius Pilate, washed my hands of him, remember?”

With that being said, you walked with Angus over to the bathrooms, and waited outside with your arms crossed like a child being punished. After a few minutes, he came back out, and the first thing you asked was.

“How’d you lie so easily?”

He gave you a look. “When?”

“The hospital.” You clarified. “You came up with a whole story on the spot that was so convincing, you had a nurse wrapped around your finger within a minute.”

Angus shrugged, beginning to walk away. “You were honestly the icing on the cake.”

“Oh, thank you.” You spoke with sarcasm, following him. “But honestly, you-.”

“-Are you any good at pinball?”

Okay mister ‘Trying to Change the Subject’, you’d play this game (literally and figuratively). “Yeah, I think so.”

He grabbed two dimes from his pocket. “Wanna bet?”

“I guarantee you that’s all the money you have, so there’s nothing to bet.”

“Not exactly.” You both wandered over to the machines. “If I win, you owe me something, and vice versa.”

“And if I wanted you to get out of my life?”

“Done and done, but only If you win, which you won’t.” He put the dimes on top of the machine a guy was playing on.

“Sorry, kid. Next game’s taken.” The many said.

Angus furrowed his brow. “But I just put some dimes down.”

“Don’t care. My buddy’s up next.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“That’s how it works in here. Why don’t you go shoot the other fuckin’ machine?”

“Because I don’t want to shoot the other fuckin’ machine.”

You put your hand on his non-injured arm. “Angus, it’s fine.”

Before he could retaliate, the man lost the game, sighing. “Thanks for fuckin’ up my mojo. Kenny! You’re up.”

“Bullshit.” Angus shook his head. “I put my dimes down, so we’re up next.”

“What was that?” You both looked and saw ‘Kenny’, a drunk man with a hook for his right hand. Shit… “Hey, kiddies,” he snapped his fingers at the both of you. “my eyes are up here.”

His friend snorted. “Look at these fucking kids; spoiled little Barton boy and his prissy girlfriend.”

Not the first nor the last time you were a smartass to a man where it will almost get you killed. “I’ll have you know, gentlemen, he is not my boyfriend; he is the reason I hope every day I become an only child.”

“You know what?” Angus stepped in before Kenny could respond. “You can just take my dime.”

“Take it?” He taunted. “You want me to take your dime? Like it’s charity?”

“No, what I mean is, we could play together.” and let this be known that Angus Tully was not always great at thinking on his feet. “Yeah, you could be my left arm.”

“The fuck did you just say to me?!”

Flinching at his tone, you decided to actually use your brain, for once. “Oh my gosh, I think I hear Dad calling us.” You took Angus’ hand without thinking. “Come on Fitzwilliam, you fucked everything up as always.”

You didn’t care that two, pissed off men were following and yelling at you, you didn’t even care that you were holding Angus’ Tully’s hand and having him trip over his own feet as you pulled him back to your table, you just needed to get out of there.

“Papa,” you call out to your father. “can we go please?”

He hummed at your arrival (and the term of endearment, which you only use if something has gone array). “Why?”

“Our favorite asshole got us in trouble.”

“Hey!” Kenny shouted at you and Angus. “Why’d you run off? We were just talking to you. Do they teach you manners at that school?”

Hook for hand be damned, your fight or flight instincts kicked in when he put his hand on Angus and you were about to be the reason he’d lose it. Then, Miss Crane stepped in.

“Kenneth, leave them alone, they just came in for some food.”

Still, he looked like he was about to charge the both of you.

Your father stepped in next. “Kenneth, is that right? I don’t doubt that he did something to offend you. It’s his specialty. Perhaps I could purchase you gentlemen something to imbibe, and we could let whatever this unfortunate incident is go the way of the dodo.”

“The what?” The first guy playing pinball asked.

“The dodo,” Angus said. “it’s an extinct bird.”

“What he’s trying to say is,” Miss Crane translated. “he wants to buy you guys a beer.”

It didn’t take long for the two men to consider it. Kenny nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Same here.” His friend agreed. “I’ll have a Miller.”

“The champagne of beers.” Angus smiled, nodding.

It was when everything final cooled down, and as the two men and Miss Crane left to get their drinks, did you notice you were still holding Angus’ hand. Which you let go of as if you were holding fire in the palm of your hand.

He went back to his moody self after that, as you were walking back to the car after finishing dinner (no connection of course).

“Why’d you buy those guys beer? They’re assholes.”

Your father shrugged. “That’s one way to look at it. Here, catch.”

He tossed him the keys, which he caught. Your father continued his lecture, walking ahead of both of you. “How many boys do you know who have had their hands blown off? Barton boys don’t go to Vietnam. They go to Yale or Dartmouth or Cornell, whether they deserve to or not.”

Angus glanced at you. “Except for Curtis Lamb.”

“Except for Curtis Lamb.” Your father repeated his words when they stood outside the car.

“Were you ever in the military?”

“Yes, I tried to enlist in ‘41, but was rejected-I have to get in over there.” He said after failing to open the door on the driver’s side. He walked over to the passenger’s (which you begrudgingly allowed Angus to have this time) side that Angus unlocked. “They made me an air raid warden. Gave me a whistle and everything. Helmet. Arm band.”

You opened the back door and slid into the seats, but Angus stayed outside, asking. “Before we get going, can I be candid with you?”

Your father already was used to that question from you, so he didn’t even look scared when he hummed his approval.

“You smell.” He got into the car. “And it’s really noticeable toward the end of the day. I even smell it on your coat. Mind if I crack the window?”

He didn’t even wait for his response before rolling the window down anyway. Before you could say something snarky to defend your father, he spoke first. “Trimethylaminuria.”

Angus furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“Trimethylaminuria.” He repeated. “Means my body can’t break down trimethylamine. That’s the smell. And uh, yes, more toward the end of the day.”

“Wow…your whole life?”

Your father nodded.

“No wonder you’re afraid of women.” Angus said your name, glancing back at you. “How did he marry your mom?”

Your jaw dropped, and only inaudible noises came out at first before you settled on. “I’m too sober for that conversation.”

“For the record,” Your dad interrupted, stunned. “I am not afraid of women, and you shouldn’t be asking a girl personal questions after insulting her father. Jesus.”

Angus nodded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Dr. Getler says I should give more consideration to my audience.”

“Who’s Dr. Getler?” You asked.

“My shrink.”

Your father decided to jump in. “Has Dr. Gertler ever tried a good swift kick in the ass?

He scoffed. “Okay, now your turn. Go ahead, tell me something about me. Something negative.”

“Something negative about you?”

“Sure, just one thing.”

“Just one?” You and your father questioned.

He nodded, preparing for the absolute worst, but it never came. Your father merely turned back to the front, started the car, and began to make the long drive back to Barton. You weren’t even out of the neighborhood when Angus then asked.

“Fitzwilliam?” He looked at you. “What kind of name is that?”

Your father snickered. “That’s what you called him?”

You shrugged. “The guys thought he was a stuck-up rich boy, but he’s really awkward and looks like he wants to kill himself every time someone looks at him, I had to.”

“He strikes me more as a Hamlet.”

To anyone who didn’t know anything about Shakespeare, that would be a compliment. To you and your father specifically, it made you laugh. Of course Angus Tully would be one of the most overdramatic characters in theatre.

“Seriously,” the boy in question said tiredly. “who the hell is Fitzwilliam?”

Your father shook his head. “My advice, Mr. Tully? Brush up on the classics; Pride and Prejudice would be a good place to start.”

None of you had the strength to do much more that night besides spending time in your rooms before bed. It was as you were a few chapters into Little Women, did you wonder.

“Why were you and my dad yelling at each other this afternoon?”

Angus looked up from his copy of Popular Mechanics to see you in the doorway once you asked that question. You both were both just wearing your pajamas and socks; outfits you had only seen each other in for either a short number of times, in dimmed lighting, or with jackets over.

It felt different this time…stranger, even.

“Hello to you too.” He greeted, setting the magazine down.

“Well?”

Pursing his lips, he didn’t look at you at first before saying. “I was calling a hotel.”

“Your mom’s?”

“No, one in Boston.”

“Why would you…?” The look on his face said it all. That look of regret and pity that you didn’t understand what he meant right away. “Oh…”

You wanted nothing more than to have said it with disgust, but it was disappointment that laced the word. Then, with a mix of anger and even hurt.

“Am I that insufferable to be around?”

He shot his head up. “What? No.”

“Seems like it.” You scoffed, beginning to pace around the room. “What happened to ‘Friends of some sort’? I asked you if we were fine because I felt like you’d gone quiet, and you said we were. I get it; you asked me to tell you the craziest thing that happened to me, and I should’ve just said ‘I got slightly drunk at a party’, not everything. You barely tell me anything about yourself, and then I just go and throw out the shittiest things that have happened to me. It’s not fair, and I’m sorry-.”

“-My father’s dead.”

Nothing could’ve gotten you to shut up faster.

It caused you such a shock, that you sat down on the bed beside him, staring at him. His gaze changed in a matter of seconds; when he first told you and you looked at him, you’d never seen anyone surer. Then, as shock settled into you, discomfort did for him. You let the quietness between you linger for a moment, terrified of your own response.

“I…I had a feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were expecting him to immediately respond, but he didn’t. You debated on just sitting in the silence, or crawling back into your room and pretending this didn’t happen, when Angus finally spoke up.

“I was thirteen, he was…really, really sick for some time but then it just happened so fast and…I don’t really like talking about it, I’m sorry-.”

“-No, I shouldn’t have pressured you-.” You relented first, and ff the circumstances weren’t bleak, it would be funny how you both spoke over each other.

“-You weren’t, you told me something about yourself and I should’ve-.”

“-You aren’t in debt or some bullshit to share anything with me-.”

“-I just haven’t really told people that before-.”

“-Your arm wasn’t the worst thing I saw in a hospital.” You decided to break the loop, and it was successful. “My mother was sick too and…” You chuckled, but felt tears prick your eyes all of a sudden at the thought. “God, she’ll haunt me for this, but she was so skinny the last time I saw her…Cancer. She and my dad were debating on if I should see her like that before she goes, and I won the argument in the end that, yes, I needed to say goodbye. I’m glad I did, no, that’s not what I think of when I think of her but…it scared me. I was eleven.”

He nodded, listening without interruption; a skill that seemed he only acquired during these small moments of vulnerability. Well, you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself vulnerable; you were merely answering his questions truthfully based on your experiences (of course; no vulnerability whatsoever. You didn’t open yourself up to others outside of your father and Mary, why would you to Angus Tully?)

“I went to the chapel before anyone else woke up and I just couldn’t stop staring at the picture of Curtis Lamb…I can’t even say it got me thinking about death or anything like that I just…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I felt weird and wanted to run away.”

“I get that.”

“I’m sorry for trying to get a hotel by the way,” he apologized again. “if that matters.”

You gave him a smile. “It does.”

For the first time in a while, you thought you saw him smile too; a genuine one, mind you, not the shit-eating grin he often gave you and everyone else. It was then you decided to get up and head to bed, bidding him goodnight. Then, again, you stopped in the doorway from another thought.

“What were you going to call me?”

“Huh?” He perked his head up.

“When you were crying about being stuck over here for Christmas?” You alluded. “You and my father are losers, Mary’s a grieving mom, but what am I?”

His eyes drifted in thought, then back to you. “‘Your know-it-all daughter.’ That’s what I was gonna say.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling as you backed out into your room. “I do know all, Angus Tully.”

You couldn’t see his face anymore when you went to your bed, but you heard his sarcastic ‘Goodnight’ with him saying your full name, and your chest felt lighter than it did the night prior to talking with him.

…What the hell was happening to you?

You were giddy, you giggled to yourself about nothing and had to hide your mouth under the blanket so Angus wouldn’t hear you in the other room. For a moment, when asking him what he would’ve called you, you wanted him to say ‘pretty’. So much shit happened that day, but the one thing, the one thing that your mind goes back to is taking his hand, and not letting go until you realized-…

…No…

No…

Oh, what the fuck?!

Oh god!

Once you were happy about having a newfound crush on Angus Tully, and now you were in absolute agony.

What a wonderful way to spend Christmas Eve-Eve.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #paul hunham #mary lamb #the holdovers #Youtube

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spatialwave · 7 months ago

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 8.9k summary: school is out and you’re looking to make the best out of your time while stuck in a small town. with summer in the air, you find yourself wrapped in a whirlwind of a day full of rookie hazing, warm beer and a budding romance with a certain football quarterback. warnings: underage drug use, bullying, name-calling, cheating. notes: not beta'd, so bare with me on any grammatical errors. also apologies for the wall of text LOL.

(a03 vers)

chapter two. ->

Moving to a small Texan town during Christmas of 1975 was far from ideal, especially as a high school junior. You’d left so much behind in California, your best friends, your boyfriend (who broke up with you because of the distance) and your part-time job as a beach lifeguard on the weekends. Maybe it was shallow, but you had the perfect life! A life that every girl your age dreamed of because you got away with whatever you wanted.

You weren’t queen bee, but you were well-liked and adored by many at your previous school, and being a popular girl at a large Californian high school was basically like being the Queen of England.

Your royal kingdom came crumbling down the day your parents, the banes of your existence, decided to move out to the Texan town where your mother was born and raised–before she escaped to the beautiful West Coast. You’d only been there twice in your life to visit your grandparents, but after your grandfather passed and left your grandmother to live the rest of her days alone… well, your parents couldn’t let her go off to a retirement home all by her lonesome.

They were too compassionate to let that happen.

Your father, a pediatrician, was happily welcomed into the small town where the number of citizens far outweighed the amount of healthcare workers. Your mother, a stay-at-home wife, took care of your grandmother during the days, kept the house clean from top-to-bottom and fed every mouth that came in the door.

There was very little you could complain about because you had all the essentials that every human needs—a roof over your head, food and clothes—and although you missed indulging in what the gorgeous city of Santa Barbara had to offer, you were far from a pouty and ungrateful person. You were a teenage girl, full of emotions and dramatics, so that’s why you spent a lot of your time complaining about it. It was valid to miss the lifestyle you had gotten used to and the worst part was that it took you at least two weeks to get over your lousy boyfriend who told you that it would take too much effort calling you and sending letters.

Goodbye, loser!

On your first day at Lee High School, you had so many unknown eyes on you that you were beginning to think that your days of being atop the social ladder were gone, leaving you at the bottom begging for scraps just to get up a peg. You were met with the opposite—a pretty girl from California like you turned heads for all the right reasons, and you found yourself being swarmed by peers wanting to get to know you. Particularly by two girls in your year, Kaye and Shavonne, who you’d clicked with like Dorothy’s heels on The Wizard of Oz.

So long to your Californian friends, and hello to your new Texan best friends, who were nothing short of young partiers who favoured cigarettes, beers and driving around late at night because there was fuck-all to do. They were the two realest girls you ever met.

It was an abrupt change of lifestyle, and while it was nerve-wracking at first, you’d welcomed it because you could focus less on how others perceived you and more on enjoying the good times. You learned to enjoy the taste of cheap beer, how to hustle people while playing pool, and the best places to park your car for a well-hidden make out session. By May, you’d smoked enough reefer that you could indulge in a couple of joints without spending the entirety of your evening with a bucket and your friends holding back your hair while they try to stifle laughs.

The only downside to the move? Two girls who you could never tell if they hated you, liked you or were jealous of you—Elise Crane and Darla Marks. Elise was a kind girl, at least on the surface, but Darla was a monster who wanted nothing more than to be envied by others. Shavonne was close with them, the type of girl to jump between the friend groups and report on each other. You came into the picture late, so you couldn’t complain about her two-sided nature to her face, but you did with Kaye.

You did your best to keep your lips tight on speaking badly around them when Shavonne was around, but calling Darla a bitch slipped the tongue once, and you could see the way your blonde friend’s eyes sparkled. It was only time until Darla called you out about saying she was a bitch behind her back.

That was the supposed life of growing up in a small town, you couldn’t say a goddamned thing to even your closest friends without everyone knowing eventually. Gossiping was healthier than ever, and you found that out, especially when you told Shavonne you thought a boy was cute.

Angus Tully.

He was the dreamiest boy you’d ever seen, well, the dreamiest boy in Texas. He was tall and lanky, a bit lean under the clothes from what you’d seen, with wild brown curls that grew around his ears and brown eyes that you could spend hours getting lost in. It was so cliché, but he gave you butterflies, and you felt like the luckiest girl alive being in the same social circle as him.

Over a few weeks of admiring him from afar, you saw that he was one of the few genuinely nice boys at school, nicer than Jason Smith and hundreds of times nicer than Teddy Kountze. He was like an angel compared to them, a boy who was friends with anyone and everyone and the type to check on the younger freshman who’d get tossed around by the seniors on the regular. Though, that didn’t stop him from being a conniving little shit with his friends when provoked–you’d seen firsthand their bad habit of driving around knocking mailboxes over when they got bored.

It was the culmination of everything of Angus Tully that drew you in. His charm, his uncaring attitude, and the fact that he enjoyed flirting with you when the chance arose.

Only issue? Elise Crane.

You knew nothing of their history as a ‘couple’, so you did your best to not let yourself get involved, or worse, between them. Shavonne, the gossip machine, told you everything you needed to know about their relationship—they were kind of together. You had no idea what that meant, but the fact that Angus had started spending more of his free time with you, you imagined that meant things were going south.

Elise Crane seemed so believably nice to you, but you couldn’t trust people who hung around Darla Marks. You sometimes kept Shavonne at arm’s length for that very reason. It didn’t take much to convince yourself to keep your nose out of other people’s business, especially when it revolved around teenage love—hell hath no fury like a jealous girlfriend.

Why did he have to be so cute, though?

You had been thinking this to yourself as you sat in class, mindlessly twirling a pencil in your fingers as you stared outside into the empty hallway. This was your second-last class, devastatingly close to freedom and the promised party at Pickford’s where you could get drunk, stoned and maybe find a boy to make out with. Maybe Benny—he was your usual go-to.

Normally, you were more active in conversation, but today you found yourself half-listening to everything happening around you. You’d heard Mike mention something about a pledge that the football players were asked to sign, though, you hadn’t really been paying much attention to what came with it. Pledge this, pledge that, you were hardly concerned with their issues.

As your eyes glazed over while you stared into the empty hall from your spot at the table, you saw two other football players, Jason and Benny, come to the doorway, beckoning Angus. Curious eyes watched as he got up from his seat and jogged out of class to go meet with them, and you perked up in your seat.

A small smirk played on your lips as you sat in anticipation, juggling the idea in your head until you slipped out of your seat and disappeared out of the classroom, looking to your right and seeing the boys walking down the hall together. Benny swung the paddle around as if hitting invisible freshmen, the trio chuckling to each other about god knows what.

“Hey, boys, wait up!” You called, arms crossing over the striped-cropped shirt you wore. You gazed amongst the three boys, Benny, Angus and Jason—they always looked like they were up to no good. They usually weren’t.

Benny’s eyes fixated on you, a boy you’d gotten to know decently well, but not through conversation. Instead of fixing on him, your eyes settled nicely onto the brunette who stood between them.

Lips thinned into a small smile for a moment before speaking again, “Too good for class?” you asked, looking between the boys with slightly narrowed eyes.

“No,” Jason said, cocking an eyebrow at you before smiling and confessing, “Yes.”

“Where are you going?” You asked curiously, nodding your head at Angus for him to answer.

“What is this? Are you going to lecture us about skipping class? Didn't realize you were a self-appointed hall monitor.” He retorted with a teasing look in his eyes, hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans as he took a step backward with a coy shrug, “Benny wants to head to the middle school, you know, see how the soon-to-be-freshman are holding up and give them a little announcement.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I came for,” you said, turning to Benny, meeting his eyes and feeling so small under it. He was a little intimidating.

“Anything you need,” He grinned, looking down at you like a piece of meat as he continued to swing the paddle.

You sighed, tapping your hand against the wood a couple of times to get his attention, “Do me a favour and don’t go too hard on my brother this summer, alright?” You plead, “he’s still getting used to the place and this is all new to him. He’s probably scared out of his mind.”

Benny’s eyes grew big at your statement, and he laughed loudly at the mere mention of going easy on the kid, “Don’t worry, I’ll give him a beating he’ll never forget!” He laughed with a loud slap of his hand against the paddle, causing the boys to laugh at his childish antics and you to roll your eyes in disgust.

“Fine, just don’t give him any more than you would the other kids, okay? Promise me,” you look between the boys, who all nodded in agreement.

“Sure,” Angus mused, tilting his head, “Your little brother will be okay, you got our word,” he reassured you, those brown eyes scanning over your body shamelessly and confidently. He always acted tougher around those boys.

You hadn’t believed a single word coming from any of them, but you still smiled up at Angus, because at least he was kind about it. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gave the boys a little nod before turning on your heel to head back to class—not before you felt a hard smack on your ass from the paddle.

“Ow—Benny!” You yelped loudly, jumping as you turned back to the three boys with an embarrassed smile on your lips, your hands rubbing over the stinging cheek that felt like fire under the fabric of your bell-bottoms.

“You liked it,” Benny said to you, offering a wink that made your stomach flip. You really needed to stop letting male attention get to you.

“Tell them to screw off!” Shavonne’s voice came from the classroom as her head peeked out of the door, her eyes landing on Jason before pulling away sharply. Your friend pulled you toward the girl’s bathroom before you could even say your goodbyes, meeting in the room to smoke a cigarette with Kaye and gossip before the next class. Though it wasn’t much gossiping, as Kaye decided to use the time to psychoanalyze Gilligan’s Island, and its link to the male gaze—she had some fair points, but Shavonne wasn’t convinced.

The final period of the day dragged on in History class, and you seated yourself at one of the desks near the back. Your head leaning back against the cool wall as you tried your best to relax, maybe even indulge in a nap to make time go by quicker. Although nearly successful, your attempts were cut short when you felt someone landing into the desk in front of you with a loud huff. Opening your eyes, they landed on the individual you’d been daydreaming about all day—a toothy grin on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you stretched your arms up and sighed, nestling back into the seat afterwards.

“Oh, you know, figured I’d make an appearance,” Angus said to you, leaning forward so he could cross his arms and lean over your desk, “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted a laugh, lifting a hand to tuck back some stray hairs that fell into your face as you sat forward. You mimicked his position, leaning forward on your desk and resting your chin on your arms. It left your faces only a few inches apart, “How’d it go with Benny and Jason? Did you boys manage to scare the freshman into fleeing the country?”

“Totally,” he snickered, lip twitching as he dropped his gaze briefly, eyes looking over your lips then back up, “What’s up with you and Benny? He’s been complaining about you not wanting to see him lately, it’s all he talks about. It’s annoying.”

“Wow, that is totally none of your business,” you laughed through your breath and a flicker of amusement in your eyes, “Does this mean I allowed to ask what’s up with you and Elise?”

“Mm, touché,” Angus murmured, moving to sit up straight again, though his gaze not once wavering as he leaned against the metal bar behind him that connected the seat to the desk, “Do you actually care?”

“I’m allowed to be curious. It hasn’t killed me yet,” you remained in your position, eyes fluttering up to look the boy over, noticing the way his hair looked a little more unruly than most days. It was cute.

Angus chuckled, looking down at his hands for a moment, fidgeting with them as you saw him thinking over his next sentence carefully, avoiding word vomit. It was a tough topic, you figured that as much because if everything were fine then it would be an easy response. The truth can always be found in the reactions of others, a joyous day for a perceptive girl.

Those doe brown eyes met your gaze, “Things are… they’re okay.”

Your eyes soften in concern, “Just okay?”

“Let it go, alright? I’m trying to have a good last class of junior year,” he smiled at you, avoiding the topic as he bravely let one of his hands rest over your desk, so his fingers could play with the thin bracelet around your wrist, “Spending it with you makes it a pretty good last class.” He mused quietly, his voice a bit awkward.

Why did he always have to say shit like that? Shit that made you want to giggle and twirl your hair around your finger so you could appease him into saying more.

You hadn’t known Angus Tully for very long, but you often wondered where on earth his charisma had come from. He reminded you of a boy who would have a hard time talking to women, much like his friends Mike and Tony, yet here he was making your cheeks hurt with how much he made you smile. You chalked it up to him being a football player, even back in California you knew that any boy on the team was seen as the ‘Gods’ of school and their ego always got to their head—much like with you.

Cheeks shone crimson, and you attempted to remain chill, which wasn’t very chill at all. “Come on, Tully,” you chuckled nervously, “save that energy for graduation next year. No need to get sappy on me this early.”

That smile of his grew wider, his fingers not once pulling away from you as they continued to fiddle with the dainty chain, “What? You don’t like it?” He teased, knowing very well the reaction he was getting out of you.

“You’re so annoying, I hope you know that.” You beamed, the look on your face showcasing anything but annoyance.

The two of you were lucky that everyone else in the class was so preoccupied with themselves. If you kept this up, Elise would be waiting for you outside the classroom door with her fists balled up and ready to pick a fight. It was laughable imagery, neither you nor Elise would ever make for a good visual fight. One slap, and you’d both be crying back to your friends for soothing comfort.

“Did Benny get you this bracelet?” Angus’ lips curled at the corners, and you yanked your hand away with an irritated scoff, earning a proud laugh from the quarterback.

“What’s your obsession with Benny? If you’re jealous, that’s all you have to say,” You prodded in return, feeling your stomach do flips as you ventured into questionably flirtatious territory. The question caused Angus to crinkle his nose, not answering you. “What if he did get it for me?” You furthered, knowing very well the truth behind the jewellery—a gift from your Auntie on your sixteenth birthday.

Angus took another look at the bracelet, getting a good eye over it and causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat. He took a few seconds to really admire it, looking over the multicoloured gems that tied into the golden chain, his thumb running along it and subsequently against your skin.

As you sat there, eyes fixated on the curly-haired boy, you delved deep into your mind and wondered what life would be like if you were able to call Angus your boyfriend. You knew of his sincere kindness toward his peers and inclination to stick it to the man, but was he a good partner? Would he be the type of boy to remember the date of when you started dating, or would he compliment you on your beauty when you’ve just woken up, hair wild and eyes small and tired? There was so much of him that you didn’t know, and you were desperate to figure it all out.

It made you wonder how on earth Elise didn’t appreciate him with all of her heart and soul. You would give anything to get a chance for it. A hopeless romantic, through and through.

“Benny couldn’t pull off this type of romance,” his voice pulled you back down from the clouds you had been dreaming in, calling you out on your bluff, “But let’s say he did… I want you to know that I could buy you a better one than this,” he replied with a self-satisfied look on his face, and like it was timed perfectly, the bell rang loudly in your ears as you stared at Angus with wide eyes and parted lips, breath caught in your throat, “Catch you later.”

You were the last student to leave the classroom, frozen in place out of pure shock over Angus’ words that flooded you with mixed signals. Flushed cheeks and a rapid heartbeat were a common occurrence when he was around, but things were different these past few weeks. The two of you had been finding yourself hanging out together more than usual, whether it was driving around or grabbing a bit to eat at Top Notch, you’d been freeing up a lot more evenings for him. There was an unspoken agreement to keep these meet-ups tight-lipped, considering you both wanted to keep your heads.

It was easy to get lost in the mixed signals that he threw at you, but you could almost swear that Angus had started behaving differently around you lately, less like just a friend. He acted similarly in which you act around boys that you crushed on, a bit flustered and awkward. You wanted so badly to call him out on it, but your guilt over hurting Elise won each time.

The last thing you needed before summer break was to read into it the wrong way and be pulled into that shit-show, so you shoved those thoughts deep from the gutters of your mind and hurried off—there were freshmen to haze, after all.

With Kaye driving the truck, you sat in the middle with Shavonne to your right. You’d just finished pulling off your top to replace it with the white jersey that displayed ‘SENIOR’ in big letters over the chest and ‘77 on the back. You thought it was corny, but you knew you’d be tucking it away in your drawer after the day’s end and keeping it as a memory to look back on fondly. Not too fondly, though, these were not going to be the best years you’ve ever lived.

“What’s up with you and Benny these days?” Shavonne questioned, smoking a cigarette with her window rolled down, flicking the ash as she turned to you.

“God, why does everyone keep asking me that?” You grumbled as you put your striped shirt down on the seat between you and Kaye, sitting forward so you could adjust the jersey over your body and tuck it into the high-waisted jean shorts you’d changed into.

“Everyone?” Kaye laughed, “You’re telling me there’s something else other than us who cares about you and Benny’s biweekly hook-ups? I have a hard time believing that.” She always thought your ‘relationship’ with Benny was laughable, naming him one of the biggest jerks of school. You wholeheartedly agreed that he was an asshole through and through, but he was at least kind to you—and you were both young and hormonal. It was basic math.

“Who is it?” Shavonne’s eyes lit up, once against seeing the gears turning in her head—your beloved friend, the rumour mill.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” you warned, “Angus was pestering me about it,” you shrugged as you stole the cigarette from where it rested snugly between two of her fingers. Taking a long drag, you exhaled, “Not sure why.”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly why,” Shavonne quipped in return, stealing back the half-smoked cigarette and holding it in her hand away from you.

“How does it feel to be so loved by the male gaze?” Kaye teased you, her eyes focusing ahead as the middle school came into view, “every boy wants you, and you keep egging them all on.”

“Firstly, I am not egging anyone on. Secondly, if you are trying to insinuate that something is going on between Angus and me, then you’re dead wrong,” you mumbled, lips twitching as you reached your hand forward and lowered the volume of the radio that had been blaring the Rolling Stones.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve known him for a lot longer than you have, alright?” Shavonne said as she flickered the cigarette out of the window, watching as it landed on the pavement, “Trust me when I say that boy likes you, I’ve never seen him so attached to anyone and that’s including Elise. I’m your friend,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “Why would I lie to you?”

Your eyes landed on Shavonne, quirking a humoured eyebrow, “Because you like getting reactions out of people.”

“You know me well,” she laughed, shoving you playfully as you pulled into the middle school parking lot, where you could see the other senior girls parked with their trucks and already wrangling girls in.

Most of the freshman girls stood by the fence, anxiously waiting to be picked one-by-one for the hazing rituals. Meanwhile, the freshman boys were running away from the school like it had been infested by the plague, nothing but fear in their eyes as they prayed for their asses to remain safe from the wrath of a senior with a paddle. You swore you could hear Teddy Kountze’s laugh from here, the poor bastard who flunked senior year and was back to paddle for another year. Embarrassing.

You then thought back to the promise Angus made with you and hoped that your brother had made it home safely.

Kaye parked the truck along the fence, and you followed the girls out, finding solace under the warm summer sun that was able to distract you from the craziness that was your mind. Focusing on the present, you reminded yourself to breathe slowly and evenly as you felt yourself falling out of place very quickly.

These rituals were new to you, you’ve experienced bullying first hand, both against you and toward others, but this was unknown territory, and you worried that someone would take things too far. Could this be considering bullying, and why did teachers condone it? For crying out loud, you were right in the parking lot of the middle school, watching the teachers leave as kids scattered like it was their last day on earth.

You’d gone up to Darla, offering a fake-sincere greeting as she gave you a handful of soothers, a way to infantilize the girls and embarrass them.

But as much as you wanted to hate this entire thing, you found yourself getting a bit too invested as you walked up to the young teens, beckoning them to you and pushing the soothers between their lips. It was interesting, you could see how a few of the girls were almost waiting in excitement to be included, while others were hoping you’d skip over them and let them go home. You figured the ones who were excited were the girls that would be climbing the social ladders much faster than the rest, being a pushover for the seniors was a sure-fire way to succeed.

After successfully gathering three girls into the truck, Kaye and Shavonne having grabbed two each, you saw an empty spot in the back of the truck waiting to be filled.

A soother, which was attached to a ribbon, was swung around by you playfully as you eyed up three girls that were leaning against the fence. You kept your feet planted on the cement, leaning against the open door on the truck bed, and looked over the girl in front, long brown curly hair and big, wide brown eyes.

She reminded you of Angus, more innocent—and a freshman girl, of course.

“Hey you… come here,” you said to her with a smile and a motioning hand, your energy toward her far from malicious, “Who are you?”

“I, uh,” the girl stuttered, clutching the textbooks against her chest tighter as she flickered her eyes from the girls in the truck to you, curiously stepping forward, “I’m nobody. I mean, I’m not in the truck.”

The girl was so endearing, you almost didn’t want to invite her for the sake of keeping her innocence, but you could tell she was interested. You sucked up your own worries and smiled.

“Well, are you a freshman?” You tilted your head, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, are you in, or you out?”

There was a look of hesitation on the girl, her eyes flickering between the truck full of her peers and you, “I’m in.”

Once more, you were settled in between Shavonne and Kaye as you drove back to the high school with the brand-new freshman in tow. Life was feeling great again now that summer was here, the sun felt hotter than it did before school was out, everyone was smiling more—well, not the freshmen. The seniors, though, this was their last summer before they would be heading off into the real world.

This was the last summer you’d be blessed with pure teenage freedom, you weren’t going to let anyone get in the way of that. Not Benny, not Elise and as much as you wanted to say not Angus, you hoped that he’d weasel himself into your life over the course of the next three months. He’s the one person you’d let flip your world upside down if he was so willing.

As you watched the girls file out of the trucks and stand in a large group, with Darla in the centre, you began to feel nervous again. Stuffing soothers in their mouths was far from the worst thing that would be happening to them, so as you watched as she started screaming at them, you had to look away from second-hand embarrassment.

“All right, you little freshman bitches! Air raid!” Darla screamed as one of the other seniors blew into a whistle, commanding the girls to lay flat down on the hot pavement on their stomachs. You watched as the sea of freshmen dropped to the ground like their life depended on it, only for Darla to scream the opposite, “That was pitiful. On your feet,” they all scrambled up, “AIR RAID!”

It was like a skipping record, you felt sorry for the girls and sorrier for the one you’d dragged in at the very end. A miserable start to their high school experience.

You stood between Shavonne and Elise as you three watched over Darla, who was taking this far more seriously than anyone else. She reminded you a lot of Teddy Kountze in that aspect, ready to live and breathe for torturing the new meat.

“This is horrible,” you groaned as you looked amongst the girls with red faces. They were all tired and getting slower by the minute.

“I feel for them,” Elise spoke up, a smile on her face as her brown eyes looked over the girls who were starting to look worse for wear, “but we all had to go through this and one day they’ll be in our shoes doing the same thing. So, they have to pay for it.”

“That’s worse,” you shuddered quietly, hands shoved into your back pockets as you leaned your weight on one leg as your eyes scanned your surroundings.

There were other seniors parked around the ‘festivity’, either watching with grins on their faces, or looks of disgust. It was 50/50. You’d immediately noticed Angus sitting nearby on the back of Jason’s truck, nestled in between him and Slater, shades resting over the bridge of his nose and a big smile on his face as he watched Darla screaming at the girls.

He tilted his head forward, looking over his shades and in your direction. You glanced away, assuming that the look was meant for Elise, who lifted a dainty hand and waved in his direction. It was rare that you felt anger, but there was something about this moment that made you want to turn to her and throw her to the ground like a primal animal fighting for a mate. You desperately needed the party to start, so you could drink the night away and hopefully have your attention on someone else.

Just as you focused back on the girls, Darla’s voice marked a cue.

“Well, we tried to give you a chance,” she started, pursing her lips as she walked around the girls who were lying on their stomachs, “But because you little prick teases can’t follow instructions, we’re going to have to try something else,” she turned to you, Shavonne, Kaye and Elise, using her finger to beckon you all, “Come on, girls.” She said, licking over her teeth as she commanded the freshman to roll onto their backs.

“This is so bad,” you whined to Kaye as you walked to Darla’s truck and grabbed one of the bags of flour, holding it against your hip.

“Oh, come on, have a little fun. You’re throwing flour on ‘em, it’s not like you're bruising their asses until they can’t sit for weeks,” Shavonne jumped into the conversation as she grabbed a bottle of ketchup and mustard in her hands, “You’ve earned the right to be a bitchy senior, remember that.”

With a heavy exhale, you let your lips spread into a faux smile. As much as you were hesitant, you were still having fun, in some weird, twisted way.

You allowed yourself to enjoy this—as much as you could—giggling with your friends as you watched them squirt condiments on the girls who covered their faces with their hands. Likewise, you took handfuls of flour, sprinkling it over the freshman and adding in gentle words once in a while, “Welcome to high school,” you’d say with a smile, while carefully avoiding their faces as you packed the flour over them in heaps.

Once the girls were rightfully covered with food, oil and sauces, you all spread out and began showing off the girls to the surrounding boys that watched. Kaye had taken the new freshman over to Tony and Mike, smoking a cigarette and chatting with them as she egged the freshman on to ‘propose’. You’d watched how Tony spoke to her kindly, most of the boys finding the situation awkward.

So, you decided to suck up your hesitation once and for all and took one of the girls over to Jason, Angus and Slater. Maybe you were doing it solely so you could chat with the curly haired brunette again, but you were only human! Elise was too busy, anyway. It wasn’t illegal to talk.

“Okay, freshie,” you said as you walked up to them, your hands resting over the girl’s shoulders, “I want you to propose to Angus.”

Even behind the sunglasses, you could see him squint his eyes in embarrassment, having greatly preferred watching from the sidelines rather than being involved. You already knew he wouldn’t let this go so easily, but they were the ones who came to park and watch. They could’ve gone anywhere else but here.

“On your knees,” you said to the girl, voice far from stern.

“Christ,” Angus groaned, lifting a hand to push his shades back up over his hair, pushing the curls out of his face as he looked down at the young girl, then back up at you.

“Will you marry me?”

Angus sighed as he looked down, fighting off a smirk as Jason shoved him playfully with his shoulder, “C’mon, Tully, the poor thing wants to marry you, don’t leave the girl hanging. Imagine everything you could do to her—I mean with her.”

You kept a hand on the girl’s shoulder, hoping that Jason would shut his mouth.

“Fine,” Angus spoke, putting his hands on his thighs and sighing at the circumstance that he knew he couldn’t get out of, “What will you do for me?”

“Anything,” she answered, her voice as confident as she could muster, and you started to regret your actions when you saw Jason smile wide. He was usually a nice guy, but he wasn’t very smart and didn’t think before speaking—the sole reason Shavonne was always made at him. You also noted the empty beer bottle behind him, rolling your eyes.

“Open your mouth like this,” Jason said, opening his in an o-shape, which the girl followed. Angus groaned and turned his head away, stifling laughter, “Uh-huh, yeah. That’s a good one for the memory bank.”

“That is so degrading, man,” Slater said through a laugh that exposed how high he was, his red eyes hardly open as he looked over at Jason in a mixture of disgust and admiration.

The young girl immediately pulled herself up to her feet, cheeks red and looking up at you after Jason’s words. You wrapped an arm around her in comfort as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde boy, “You can be a real asshole, Jason,” you muttered at him, not even looking at Angus as you walked away. That was a mistake you’d be regretting for the rest of the evening.

“Don’t get mad at me, you brought her here!” Jason called after, the two beers in his system not doing wonders for his filter.

“Look at what you did you pervert,” Angus shoved at him playfully, putting his shades back over his eyes as he watched you walk away. Unbeknownst to you, he’d been thinking about you a lot too, more than you could comprehend.

“Those guys are jerks,” you had been telling the girl, “Watch out for boys like those, okay? You deserve someone who will treat you like the lady you are.”

The words were soothing, you could see it in her eyes, and you promised yourself that you’d stay far, far away from the senior’s celebrations next year.

Just as you had started herding the girls back into the truck, preparing to go through a car wash to clean the girls up in the most humiliating way ever, someone came running up behind you.

“What do you want?” You asked when the figure came into your peripheral vision, having assumed it was Jason coming back with an apology—that was wishful thinking. Lifting the truck bed up with a click, your eyes flickered to Angus, watching you through his shades and a smile on his lips.

“Ouch, didn’t realize you were mad at me,” he smirked, your eyes looking up and down at him with a quirked eyebrow. You noticed the puka shell necklace poking out from underneath his t-shirt—you’d given that to him as a gift just over a month ago. It made your cheeks warm.

“Sorry, thought you were Jason,” you admitted as you wiped your hands clear of flour on the denim that covered your hips. You glanced around, noticing that your truck was the last to leave, the other seniors pulling out of the lot as you two spoke, “I gotta’ get going. Duty calls.” You said, taking a few steps back.

“You should skip out, Kaye and Shavonne don’t need you to drive through a car wash,” he said, glancing up at the freshman that were sitting in the back and listening in because they had nothing better to do except wait for the next phase of hazing.

“I don’t know, Angus,” you sighed, placing your hands over your hips as you looked over to the side view mirror where you met Shavonne’s gaze. She motioned for you to go, your heart leaping in your chest, “Where are we going?”

“Slater wants to head over to Pickford’s place, you know, get some stuff and hang out for a bit.”

“You really want me there?”

“Well, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you around,” he smiled, a hand reaching forward so he could hook his finger into one of your belt loops. That alone made you want to throw your arms around him then and there, forcing your lips together in a heavy kiss so he could taste your cherry chapstick.

“Yeah, whatever. Sounds cool,” you returned with a bashful smile, looking over at the freshmen as you smacked the side of the truck a few times to alert Kaye that they were ready. Both you and Angus waved the girls away, but you couldn’t keep your focus on anything except where his finger kept you tugged close to him.

“Man, I called shotgun before you,” Slater complained from the back seat in Angus’ car.

“It’s the shortest drive to Pickford’s,” you told the long-haired stoner, sitting sideways in your seat so you could look back at him.

“Yeah, but it all has to do with the morals of it,” he continued.

A laugh bubbled up, and you sat back in the passenger seat, looking out the open window and listening to the rock music playing from Angus’ radio, Aerosmith. You nodded your head along to the sound, one hand resting over where the window rolled down, the other on your thigh with fingers tapping along your skin. It was in moments like these you felt at peace, your hair blowing in the wind and a big smile on your face as the sun warmed you, hot enough that you could close your eyes and pretend you were on a coastal beach.

“You’re going to the party, right?” Angus asked, slowly your attention settling on him.

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” you smiled, the excitement buzzing inside of you.

“You going there with the girls?”

“No, I’m going with Benny,” you answered, lips spreading into a big grin when you saw the expression that fell over his face, “I’m kidding. God, you’re gullible.”

“You suck,” he rolled his eyes, reaching a hand to gently push at you. The same hand falling down so it could rest over your thigh—your bare thigh.

There was no willpower in you to push his hand away, to bring up Elise and say that if he wanted to act this way with you, he had to put an end to whatever was going on with them. The guilt would gnaw away at you later, for now you would allow yourself to enjoy the intimacy.

“What about you?” You asked, “who are you going with?”

“Just some of the football guys,” he replied, his thumb drawing circles over your thigh as he focused ahead on the road, “Why? Are you trying to go together?”

“You wish,” you laughed at his suggestion, “I’ll see you there. Maybe.”

Once at Pickford’s you lagged behind Slater and Angus, letting them talk with their parents as they packed away for what looked like a trip. That answered your question about how Pickford managed to pull off a big senior party at his house.

With your hands clasped in front of you, you smiled at the two older adults and kept your mouth tight–you’d never met them before, and you weren’t going to say anything to give them the wrong impression. They already seemed weary around Slater.

“Michelle is inside,” Pickford’s mother said to you with a sweet voice as she shoved some suitcases into the trunk of their vehicle, under the assumption you were there to meet with the only other girl there.

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.” you piped up, forcing a smile, unmoving until Angus wrapped an arm around your shoulder and tugged you toward the house.

“It was nice seeing you, have fun on your trip!” He called out to them once more, his charismatic nature taking the forefront, “Why are you being awkward with them?” he asked through a breathy chuckle, looking down at you as Slater led the way inside.

“I’m not awkward, I just like to make a good first impression,” you said, pulling away from his touch so you could shut the front door, “And what about you? You’re like… a chameleon.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Angus turned around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, paired with a curious smile.

You shrugged, walking past him as you followed Slater up the stairs, “You have this uncanny ability to blend into whatever social situation you want. It’s chameleon-like,” you explain, “Have you never noticed it before?”

“She’s totally right man,” Slater spoke from ahead of you, reaching the top of the stairs and turning around, “You know how to make friends with everybody and fit right in, you could totally be a CIA spy, man,” he spoke with his hands, eyes focusing on Angus as the two of you made up the stairs, “You’re not a spy are you?”

“Aw, shit, Slater,” Angus groaned, “You caught me. Guess I gotta’ assassinate you like they asked me to.” He abruptly fake punched Slater’s gut, making the stoner jump back.

“Not funny, man,” he said, causing you to laugh as you walked past him, “That’s, like, my worst fear.”

“Being assassinated?” You looked over your shoulder at Slater, giving him a look that screamed, ‘what the fuck?’.

“Yeah, exactly! Just like JFK, man. I’m driving around one day and BOOM, bullet right into my skull and killing me instantly.” He emphasized the word, pretending to shoot you with a fake sniper.

“Sorry to break it to you, Slate-man, but most stoner teens from small town America aren’t on any hit lists.” Angus said as he knocked on Pickford’s bedroom door, the boy needing to come up and unlock it for them all, “You don’t drive, either.”

“JFK wasn’t driving either, man, that’s some scary stuff.” Slater said, pointing a finger at him as he did.

“Be careful, Slater, if you think too hard about it, you might manifest it into reality,” you snickered as you followed Angus into Pickford’s bedroom.

“So, not funny.”

You’d all settled into the large bedroom room, with you sitting next to Angus on the bed and Slater on the floor just to your left. For the first few minutes, while Pickford had dug around in his stash, you talked with Michelle and looked at her in awe—to you, she was way cooler than Darla could ever be.

“Sample of the goods,” Pickford smiled as he sat in front of Michelle, the girl wrapping her legs and arms around him as he lit up the joint, passing it over to Slater, who was here for business.

The long-haired teen took a drag from the expertly-rolled joint, and you watched as he held the smoke in for a few seconds and narrowed his eyes. If there was anything that impressed you about Slater, it was the fact that the kid could be high 24/7 without getting sick from it. You were also sure that he could do a blind test and know what kind of strains he was smoking from memory.

“Fifteen bucks,” Pickford spoke up, handing the bag of loose flower to Slater, who then handed the joint to you.

With ease, you brought the end up to your lips and inhaled, the smoke moving deep into your lungs as you pulled away and exhaled. It wasn’t an instant high, but you could feel your shoulders relaxing as you passed it to Angus, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Hey man,” Slater leaned forward, looking between both of you, “Can you spot me a ten?”

Michelle and Pickford chuckled as both of you snapped your eyes at him, Angus humming in question as he hit the joint. “I’ll pay you, like, Tuesday and shit.” He said, smoking still coming out of his mouth, as he looked down at the five dollar bill he pulled out of his pocket.

“You owe me ten and a shake from Top Notch,” you told him as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your pocket, a permanent smile on your face as you slipped the bill to Pickford.

“Thank you,” Slater grinned, “I’ll definitely get you a shake, man, one of this big chocolate ones, but we gotta’ share it, alright? Those are my favourite.”

“Deal,” you giggled, having not realized how you’d settled nicely against Angus’ side, his left arm wrapping around you with his hand placed over your hip.

As the five of you started chatting about the party plans and passed around the joint once more, leaving your eyes half-lidded and glossy, there was a knock on Pickford’s bedroom door. You smacked your lips a couple of times, feeling the dryness accumulate in your mouth and desperately wishing you had a big glass of water with you.

“Hide this,” Angus passed the joint to you, which made you realize the knock was coming from his parents. A bit panicked, you looked down at the joint in your hands, then passed onto Michelle as Pickford rushed up and began hiding his paraphernalia into the depths of his dresser drawers.

“Who is it?” Pickford called out, his mother answering and explaining that he’d best come out there.

The entire situation left you feeling paranoid, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that would hide the redness—you’d left your purse with Visine in Kaye’s truck. Angus got up and helped Pickford, spraying some air freshener around the room as you all adjusted yourselves into different areas. Michelle moved to the window ledge, Slater leaned back into the rounded chair and once Angus was back to sitting on the bed, you found yourself laying back on him with his arms wrapped around your waist and hands clasped on your stomach.

“Kevin, open the door.” His father’s voice boomed, making you shudder.

“It’s okay,” Angus’ deep voice murmured into your ear, leaving you shivering and feeling nervous for an entirely different reason now.

You sighed shakily, doing your best to relax as Pickford opened the door, his father looking miserable and furious. Quickly, you flickered your gaze away and tried not to listen in on the conversation, turning your head enough so you could look up at Angus. Slowly, you lifted a hand up, so your fingers could play with a couple of the curls that hung over his ears. The two of you stayed like that, smiling at each other like you were in love and acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Pickford dealt with the situation, which had to do with the delivery driver bringing kegs of beer to his house much earlier than the teen had anticipated. He was playing it off as coolly as he could, but when you glanced over, his father looked like he was about to explode any second. You so wished you were sober right now.

You smacked your dry again as the teen left the room, looking up at his father, who hadn’t moved. He looked over everyone, hands on his hips, “You guys know anything about a party here tonight?” He asked, flaring his nostrils as he waited for someone to confess.

There was a collective ‘no’ amongst all of you, shrugging it off as if that was a preposterous idea. You all sighed in relief when he left, Slater especially as he pulled out the baggy of weed he’d hidden in his shirt and tossed it onto the round table in front of him.

“Pickford is so dead,” you said aloud, looking at everyone.

“Fucking delivery driver. Never in my life have I seen those bastards arrive early,” Angus replied, shifting behind you as you all tried to listen in to the sound of Pickford’s father trudging down the stairs.

“You think the party is a bust?” Slater asked, his gaze flickering to Michelle.

The girl let out a sigh as she looked out the window and saw her boyfriend coming back inside as the delivery driver start putting the kegs back in his truck. The front door slammed, echoing within the house as if confirming everyone’s worst fears, “yeah.”

As the car pulled away from Pickford's house, you settled into the backseat, eyes closed, feeling the wind from the open windows cool your skin. Angus and Slater talked over their plans for the evening, but all you could think about was the warmth of Angus's arms wrapped around you earlier. It made you feel comforted, safe, and strangely excited. You wanted to go back to that moment, to tilt your head back and look into his eyes again and note the small details on his face that you’d never paid attention to before. To touch his curls again, letting your fingers get caught as you pull him into a kiss—

"Am I taking you home?" Angus's voice broke through your thoughts, and you met his gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Yes, please," you replied softly, sitting forward and feeling like everything around you was moving slower than reality, "so what's up for tonight?"

"Don’t know yet," Angus said, turning onto your block, "we're going to meet up with Pickford and Michelle, figure things out now that his parents are staying back from the trip. You sure you don’t want to come along?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. It was a tempting offer to spend more time with them, but you had other plans. "No, I'm good," you sighed, looking out onto the street as your house came into view, "Kaye is picking me up around eight, so I should go get ready. I’ll see you around, though?"

"Yeah, I'll be around," Angus replied with a smile that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Cool," you smiled back, reaching over to tousle his curls before sliding to the edge of the car. Slater jumped out to push the seat forward for you, and as you stepped out, you leaned forward against the door, looking through the open window.

"Bye, Angus," you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice, "See you later, Slater."

As you walked towards your house, you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. The night was full of possibilities, and you wondered what it would bring. But through the anticipation, a nagging thought lingered—the growing attraction between you and Angus.

Two sets of eyes watched as you walked to your house, disappearing through the front door.

“She’s so into you, man, I’ve never seen her act like that around Benny,” Slater spoke, nodding to himself as he glanced at Angus, “What are you gonna’ do?”

The teen sat there for a moment, thinking over the words as he shifted the car back into drive and sped down the street, hand gripping at the steering wheel as his mind filled with complications over the situation, “I don’t know.”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #the holdovers au #dazed and confused #angus tully fic #the holdovers fic #dominic sessa #wordsbyspatial

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brownbearwrites · 8 months ago

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a quiet I keep on keeping

A fluffy scenario that I haven’t been able to get out of my head these past few days. Can be read as either romantic or platonic!

An empty laundry basket clatters to the floor as you swing your leg through the ground-floor window, the sound of plastic on tile impossibly loud in the stifling quiet of Barton after midnight. The sound makes you wince, Angus' wide, panicked eyes meeting yours as you both freeze into place — the toes of your left foot just barely meeting the solid floor while your right leg is still hanging out in the cold. A minute passes. Then two. When your clamorous entrance appears not to have woken anyone up, Angus visibly relaxes — shoulders dropping from where they'd been pulled up to his ears. You move to fully step indoors, Angus' warm hands steadying you as you do.

“Sorry about that,” you whisper sheepishly once you're safely inside.

Angus shrugs, “It should be fine, there's only three of us in the building, anyway. Well, four, now. It's pretty unlikely that they heard all of that”.

“This place must get pretty lonely, huh? No wonder you've been dropping by my work so often”.

Angus pointedly moves to shut the window, making sure to keep it open just a smidge, so that the two of you will be able to pry it open when you have to climb out again come morning. He leans against the window frame, pointedly ignoring your question.

“Aw, come on, Angus,” you tease, “It's not like I don't like having you around. You're good company. Leagues more fun than all the grumpy old folks who drop by every day to complain about the speed at which I scan groceries”.

You manage to make him crack a smile, his mussed up curls falling over his brow bone as he ducks your gaze. He huffs out a laugh, clearly attempting to dismiss you.

“It's true! I wouldn't be breaking into an all-boys private school in the middle of winter break if I didn't think so,” you defend yourself.

“I don't think it's really breaking in if you're climbing through a window that's already open. It's more trespassing, I'd say,” he cheekily remarks.

You swat at him with the long sleeves of your sweater — Angus' sweater, really — making him bark out a laugh before he manages to snatch your hands in his larger ones. Both of you pausing again when you notice how loud you're being. You smile up at him bashfully, taking in the way he always just looks softer like this — sleepy at the end of another long day. The crinkle around his eyes, the soft white shirt hugging his shoulders, the ways his lips curve up in the gentlest of smiles.

Angus leans toward you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he does. He pulls you towards him, your hands naturally reaching out to wind around his frame.

“I'm guessing you've had quite the day, huh?” you whisper.

You feel him nod above you, his cheek resting atop your head. You breathe in the warm, laundry detergent and cigarettes smell of him, already feeling drowsy on your feet.

“Wanna tell me about it while we cuddle?” you mumble into his shirt.

“Sure,” Angus says, “C'mon, but no more kicking over laundry baskets on the way there, okay?”

You halfheartedly slap at his chest, “I'll sincerely try my hardest”.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #dominic sessa #mine #fluff #angus tully fluff

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fredwkong · 1 year ago

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Angus, Beef

Dr. Angus Jacobson was a prodigy. At just 35, he was on the tenure track at a major university, researching intersectionality and climate justice. Some people thought it was strange that a straight white man from a middle class family had gone into the field, but Angus just laughed and said he had felt a calling.

Not only was he a great intellect, Angus was also always impeccably dressed in semi-formal or formal clothes. He loved wearing suits, or a polo shirt if it was hot, and keeping his hair short and professional. He thought that being presentable was a huge part of getting ahead in life.

As one of the foremost experts on climate justice in the country, Angus consulted with several large corporations on their eco-friendly projects. Often, that meant touring sites and giving recommendations on how to improve the design or the worksite conditions to better help people. He was always unfailingly polite to any workmen that he met while on his tours, but he found them hard to relate to. They just didn’t seem to have very complex life experiences compared to him. And even if they were working out in the heat all day, he couldn’t help but feel like they enjoyed being all sweaty and never using deodorant. The thought made his skin crawl.

One day, Angus was touring a site where a development company was building carbon neutral high rises. He had just finished speaking to the foreman and was walking away, taking notes on his tablet. The drainage system was going to need a big upgrade if the facility was supposed to stand up to the storms that occasionally came through.

Suddenly the foreman called after him. “Hey, Mr. Jacobson, you forgot this!” he yelled. He was a big, burly Black guy, and his voice carried across the whole site. Angus turned, surprised and a little scared. The foreman held out a small, folded piece of white cloth. Angus was sure he hadn’t dropped anything or handed anything off, but he took it anyway. He didn't want to say no to someone like this. It was strangely damp to the touch.

The foreman grinned at him. “See you ‘round, Mr. Jacobson,” he said, and walked away without another word.

Once he got into his car, a little European EV, Angus unfolded what turned out to be a white undershirt, wrinkling his nose at the thick scent of stale sweat and body odour it gave off. It certainly wasn’t his. Maybe it was some kind of prank? He could just throw it out when he got home. Angus tossed it on the passenger seat and started driving.

The smell was impossible to ignore. Even once he was back home, the shirt safely in the trash, Angus felt like it was following him from room to room, infecting everything he touched with the smell of unwashed man. Even after showering, applying fresh deodorant, and changing into his silk pyjamas, he swore the smell was still on him. He stalked restlessly from room to room, sniffing his pristine loveseat, his freshly ironed slate grey sheets, and his immaculate suit closet to try and find the source. Finally, he gave up, resolving that it was psychosomatic. He would just call the company tomorrow and complain about their foreman playing a prank.

The next morning, Angus was walked out of his bedroom confidently in his usual suit. He had completely forgotten the incident from last night. That is, until he walked into the living room to see a beat-up leather sofa in the place of his rarely-used loveseat, the white undershirt draped over the back of it. “What the fuck?” he breathed.

Angus never used his living room. If he wasn’t in his office, he was in his bedroom. He’d only used it for the few times a date had gone well, and a guy wanted to come watch a movie… Something about that line of reasoning felt wrong. He thought it through again.

Angus spent plenty of time in his living room. He had spent good money on a quality sofa to relax on. Guys loved it, too. They loved the feeling of leather against their backs while Angus pressed down on top of them.

Angus frowned. He was versatile, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to fuck on the first date… was he?

Anyway, he looked proudly at his sofa. What the hell was that grimy undershirt doing on it? He must have dropped it there on his way to put it in the garbage yesterday. He snatched it off—how was it still soaking wet with sweat?—and mentally promised that he would clean the couch after work. The shirt went back into the garbage and Angus headed off to the university.

When he got home that evening, he swore that his house still smelled like sweat. He found the shirt in his office, where he must have left it this morning. It was right where his antique phonograph had been… Where his weight rack was, draped over the back. Angus threw the shirt into the garbage, disgusted, then did his lifting while watching a lecture on climate stewardship. He was so glad he’d thought to put a rack of free weights in his office, it let him multitask so much better. He could tell it was having an effect, too, since his arms were looking bigger these days.

Once he was done his work, Angus found himself feeling horny and bored. It was unusual, since he usually ended his workouts grossed out by his own sweat, needing to shower and lie down… Of course, it was normal, exercising always energised him, and it was too early to shower. He headed out to a bar, and a few hours later Angus found himself lying on his couch, grinding against some hunk whose name he’d forgotten. After they came, Angus gave the guy a goodnight kiss and sent him home. He barely wiped the cum off his skinny chest before he fell asleep, forgetting to shower.

Things continued this way for a few days. Angus kept on finding the shirt, still wet, sitting on a his furniture. He kept on getting hookups, at least one a day. After a few days, he couldn’t smell the sweaty shirt anymore. Between his lifting bench, sofa, unwashed sheets, and dirty laundry bin, there was too much of his own smell in the house anyway. One morning, he found the shirt in his medicine cabinet, and he couldn’t find his deodorant… He had a big tub of curl cream, one of his hookups must have fixed their hair and forgotten it.

Angus found himself hooking up with Black guys more often. He’d never had a strong preference for any one race… He’d always loved big, thick Black men. He knew it was just a fantasy, but something about big, dumb Black guys appealled to him. He downloaded Grindr, found himself drooling over pics of thick men in construction gear.

Somehow, the undershirt was in his car one morning. In the place of his nice, planet-saving EV, there was a manual truck Angus had no idea how to drive... Angus loved his truck. He loved to feel like a real man on the road, even if the gas-guzzler did conflict with his morals. It was fine, though, he would just make sure his next car was an electric truck

One evening, Angus found the shirt on the floor of his closet. His precious suits were gone! Instead there was… The shirt had been hard to find, since most of Angus’s clothes were similar casual wear, half of it dirty on the floor of the closet. Even his work suits weren’t washed nearly often enough, giving off a bit of a stench. Every once in a while, Angus would see someone’s nostrils flare when they walked past him, catching his manly musk on the air. It gave him such a feeling of power and masculinity.

Lounging on his leather sofa in a pair of threadbare boxers, Angus was scrolling Grindr when he got a message. “Hey man, you ready yet?” It wasn’t from anyone he knew, except… It was from the foreman of the work site. His profile was full of pictures of him in hiviz gear, sweating in the hot sun. What could he mean? Maybe he wanted to do some roleplay. He was so hot, exactly what Angus loved imagining.

“Always ready for you, baby ;)” Angus messaged back. A few minutes later, he was texting the foreman his address, excited to see him again.

Just before he let the guy in, Angus realised he needed to put on a shirt. He had nothing clean. There was an undershirt sitting where his bedside table should be… Over his bong. He should wipe that down, see if the foreman wanted to smoke up after sex. He threw on the shirt and went to answer the door.

The foreman looked approvingly around Angus’s apartment. “Looking good,” he said, half to himself. He fisted a hand in Angus’s shirt, almost like he owned it, kissed Angus hard, filling Angus’s mouth with his huge tongue. “Seems to me that you’re way too white and educated for this house. Mr. Jacobson. You live like one of my labourers.”

Angus looked around. The foreman was right. For some reason, despite being a university professor, his house looked nothing like it. He didn’t have an office, just a home gym. He had no suits, no bookshelves, just casual gear and porn DVDs. Maybe it was all in at the university? That didn’t make any sense.

Before Angus could get too confused, the foreman grabbed him. He whispered in his ear, “Seems to me like you want to roleplay. You want to tell me you’re a big, dumb, sweaty construction worker, right, Mr. Jacobson? You want to fuck me with your big Black cock while still wearing your shirt?”

Angus did.

“You like that?” he growled a few minutes later, getting between the foreman’s legs. “I’m gonna open you up with my tongue. I didn’t get any fancy schooling to use fancy words, I just eat guys like you out like you've never been ate out before.”

He drove his tongue into the foreman's ass, enjoying the taste of his unwashed ass. As he did, Angus’s tongue lengthened, his lips darkening as his nose became wider. By the time he had the foreman moaning, his hole starting to gape, Angus’s face was black-skinned, his features strong and masculine.

“Yeah,” he grunted. His voice was deeper, slower. “I work hard in the heat all day, and I fuck hard all night. I sweat and leak so much I basically don’t need lube.”

Angus’s cock seemed to get even harder as he bottomed out in the foreman. He felt a burst of sensation as his foreskin grew back, a continuous stream of precum starting to leak from the tip. The skin around the base darkened, his hair growing in thick and black.

Angus started to rock back and forth as the foreman moaned underneath him. Having this burly Black man at his mercy made Angus feel even more confident. He continued roleplaying. “I’m such a thick Black construction worker, your cock gets caught between our sweaty bellies when I suck your neck. You’re gonna get off with your cock trapped between us.”

He leaned down and started to bite and lick at the foreman’s neck and collarbone as his chest and belly expanded. Angus’s skin darkened as hair grew thick over it, sweat beading as he fucked harder. Just like he’d said, the foreman’s cock was caught between their muscle guts, the foreman’s precum mixing with salty sweat to create the perfect friction.

Angus could feel the orgasm coming. He barely understood the words coming out of his mouth as he said, “Gonna pick you up and fuck you against the wall. I’m a big Black muscle bull, got no brains, just a big muscle ass and thick legs, so sweaty, dumb, smelly…” He trailed off, rocking back as he picked up the burly foreman like he was nothing, slammed him against the wall, and kept fucking.

He felt the foreman’s hands on his juicy muscle ass, tense and round as he rutted against the wall. Yeah, Angus’s body was the product of hard labour, a temple of Black manliness. He was glorious, a fucking god, he was… he was…

Angus came, filling the foreman up with shot after shot of thick Black cum. The foreman came too, his cock still pressed between their bellies, his cum soaking into Angus’s sweaty undershirt.

In a haze, Angus stumbled back from the wall, still holding the foreman off the ground. He collapsed onto the bed with a huge crash. Something had changed… Everything was fine… He was a beast… Angus fell asleep without pulling out.

The next morning, Angus “Beef” Jacobson woke up slow, enjoying the feeling of a mouth on his musty cock. Boss was so good with his tongue. “Morning, Boss,” grunted Beef.

Boss pulled off Beef’s big black cock with a pop. “Morning, Beef,” he growled. “Ready to head to the site?”

Beef grunted. He reached down, grabbed Boss by the shoulders, and dragged him up. “Not yet,” said Beef, lowering Boss onto his slick cock. He started moving his Boss up and down like a fleshlight.

Beef wasn’t the smartest guy. That was how he’d gotten his nickname, ‘cause he was like a big, sweet cow who loved to fuck. He was like a walking stereotype of a Black construction worker: burly, sweaty, musky, and totally dumb. Hell, he’d pretty much worn the same shirt for a week, an undershirt Boss had given him. It was so musky and smelly Beef was pretty sure anyone who touched it would be smelling him for weeks. That was a hot idea.

He didn’t really know much other than the physical stuff, but Boss told him he was helping to save the world, some shit about green buildings. Beef thought that was funny, since the building was grey concrete, not green. He was such a dumbass sometimes. Just a big piece of dumb Black Beef.

This story was part of a trade with @artificial-transmutations. See his half of our trade here.

#male transformation #male tf #mental change #muscle tf #reality change #race change #dumber tf #musk tf #black tf #clothing tf #gradual change #construction worker tf #all fwkong #blue collar tf

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gothgleek · 7 months ago

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Angus Tully x Gender Neutral!Reader

This is something I wrote after I made this post. Not a ton of biting in this unfortunately but I did write a lot of smut so hopefully it balances out.

Summary: Your boyfriend had an oral fixation and you couldn’t help but experiment with it from time to time.

Notes: Minors DNI, smut, aged up Angus (20s), reader receiving rimming/ass eating, minor spit play, sexual experimentation, established relationships, gender neutral reader. Border by @saradika-graphics

Please like, reblog, and comment if you like my work!

Rimming, ass eating, frontage, established relationship, minor spit, sexual experimenting, gn!reader

You were well aware of your boyfriend’s oral fixation. Angus loved going down on you. If he had a particularly hard day at work, he gets on his knees immediately without a word. If you had a hard day at work, Angus wouldn’t hesitate to use his tongue to lick away your stress. He kisses his way down, and despite your pleas, he takes his time to lick and taste your skin. When he finally reaches your center, he can only moan in pleasure when you lock your thighs around his head.

Additionally, Angus could hardly let a day go by without leaving bite marks on you. The first time he did it, you were focusing on paperwork when he came up from behind you and bite your shoulder. You jumped in your seat with a screech while he simply stared at you and asked what you were up to. It wasn’t a hard bite, especially when the two of you actually started having sex.

When you looked at your torso the morning after the two of you fucked, you would see a constellation of his teeth marks on your skin. It hurt to put clothes on sometimes. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind or ask him to stop as a strange part of you felt honored to be his chew toy. In fact, today you are encouraging him to push his oral fixation further. The idea came from a skin mag you found shoved in the back of the convenience store. When you brought up the subject Agnus one day, he could hardly contain his excitement.

Another way for him to taste you? He would absolutely give it a try.

Which brought you here- ass up, face down on your bed waiting for him to come to your room without an inch of clothing on you.

You pushed your ass back, burying your face in the pillow.

The bed creaks as Angus crawls onto it and suddenly you’re all too aware of your surroundings. The green linen bed sheets, the wooden bed frame, and pale yellow walls. Distantly, you wondered how long it would take for all those colors to blur together when Angus made you cum.

He places a kiss on the small of your back and slowly works his way upwards, kissing the back of your shoulders, then your neck. He takes his time kissing your neck and you know each kiss is a spot he will bite later on. Even if you wear turtle necks or scarves or cover it with makeup, he has marked you as his and his alone. His finger catches your chin, turning your head so you can kiss him.

Another thing about Angus? He’s an excellent fucking kisser. You don’t know how considering you are his first serious relationship and his numerous boarding schools left much to be desired in terms of relationships. But you couldn’t complain not when his tongue did that thing when you kissed. The kisses on your back were gentle and brief. This kiss however? It’s sloppy and all consuming. Angus puts his hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue sends shivers of anticipation through your body and you return the passion. Your chin stays firm between his fingers however, so he pushes you away so your foreheads rest against each other.

“Not yet,” Angus breathes. “There will be time for that after. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

He presses a rough, yet quick kiss against your lips and releases you. Your hands catch you so you’re on all fours as he works his way down your back. The bed dips as he settles behind you. His large hands catch the meat of your hips as Angus presses kisses against the fat of your ass. He’s warming you up, because despite it being your idea, he knows you’re a little nervous. Angus gives you a gentle bite on one cheek before giving a symmetrical bite on the other. He bites around your ass cheeks a little harder every time and you know you’ll be sore in the morning.

Angus digs his thumbs into you, spreading you open and you can feel his warm breath against your hole. You wish you could see his face right now. Was he biting his lips? Were his pupils dilated with lust? Was he drooling? Before you can ponder further, Angus dives in between your cheeks.

“Oh!” You breathe out as his tongue slides across your hole. Your toes curl and you push against his face, wordlessly begging for more.

”I’ve barely done anything,” Angus teases and you can feel him smirk.

“Can you do something?” You plead. He indulges, just barely, with the tip of his tongue pressed against your hole, just barely penetrating it. You fall face first to the mattress so you can push back against his tongue. Angus keeps you in place though.

“Why are you so needy?” He bites the curve of your ass. “Do I spoil you too much?”

You shake your head. “You don’t spoil me enough.”

“Do you think you can do better than me?” Angus asks, rubbing one hand against the bite he left on your ass as he doves between your cheeks again. You can feel his hot breath against your wanting hole. You hate that he’s so close. So close yet not doing anything about it.

“Touch yourself for me,” Angus says, pulling back from your hole. Angus sat you upright so he could lean over your shoulder. “Show me how much you want it.”

You waste little time putting your hands between your legs. Angus loves watching you touch yourself. Not because he wants you to get off. No, no, no. He likes watching you touch yourself because he knows you can’t get yourself off without him anymore. Your hands aren’t as soft as his, your fingers aren’t as long, nor is your mouth as dirty as his.

“You look so pretty touching yourself,” Angus bit down on your shoulder. “Tell me, are you close?”

“I need you,” You shake your head furiously. “Please touch me.”

Chuckling as he gives your shoulder one last bite, Angus obliges. He pushes you back into your forearms and spreads your cheeks apart. He gives your asshole a warning lick. When your body relaxes, Angus gives quick circles around your hole. He then pushed his tongue all the way in, as far as it could go. Angus smiled to himself as he felt the muscles in your ass clench under his palms. He licks up and down your asshole and you push your ass against him. Grabbing your hips, Angus buries his tongue inside you again. You touch yourself matching his pace. Slowly he slid his tongue in and then out. He spat in your hole before sliding his tongue in again, pushing his saliva in deeper. You shivered from the feeling.

“Angus,” You moaned. “I’m getting close.”

One hand left your hip and traveled between your legs, replacing yours. Both your hands fisted the bed sheets as his fingers and tongue worked their magic. Your moans grew louder while Angus kept his pace, just pressing his tongue down a little harder.

Your knees dug into the mattress when your orgasm hit you. Your eyes shot open and you could barely take in your surroundings, all the colors blurring together. Sparks danced in your vision as pleasure shot through your spine and spread to the rest of your body. His fingers kept its pace, elongating your orgasm so he could listen to your voice moaning his name over and over again. Angus pulled his face away so he could watch your shaking body overwhelm with pleasure.

Eventually waves of pleasure subsided and your body fell into the mattress, feeling like jelly. Lazily, you rolled onto your back and looked up at Angus between your legs. He was still fully dressed and palming his cock through his pants.

“My turn,” He smirked.

You smiled up at him. “I’m all yours.”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #angus tully imagine #angus Tully smut #the holdovers #the holdovers smut #the holdovers fanfic #the holdovers fanfiction #mine #smut

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strawburry01 · 7 months ago

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That's Not Me

Summary: Reader and Angus listen to your record collection and bond over music and parent problems (it's not very deep)

word count: 2k

Authors Note: this is actually the first stuff I've ever put on tumblr and I've currently been working on this as I'm insanely doped up on wisdom teeth painkillers so sorry if it reads weird. I'm trying to start writing more in general n shit so you have any weirdly niche or specific scenarios or desires pls just shout em out (i see you, you're valid). ALSO: Walk with me here, you're telling me Angus Tully wouldn't be a big fan of the Beach Boys? I know this sad ass mfer would eat Pet Sounds up. It's a short album, do yourself a favor n listen to it (or at least check out the songs I took the blrubs from for this) cause it's some GOOD STUFF. That's all.

You stood over the lone dresser in your room. Your prized possession of a small record player balanced precariously on top of it with your stack of records spread out across the rest of the top. You’d been collecting records even since your first year at St. Mary’s, despite the rules against it that the sisters there tried to enforce at every opportunity.

But they had left you here, alone, at Barton so it’s not like they could complain about it now. Nobody was even here besides you, that odd Professor Hunham, the sweet chef Mary, and that Angus Tully boy. It had been a few days since the rest of the boys had been picked up in a helicopter, leaving the four of you to the echoing halls of the empty school.

You plucked the new Fleetwood Mac album out of your pile and slipped it onto the turntable before placing the needle gently down onto the black vinyl. Stevie Nick’s smooth vocals began to tinny out of the small record as you tapped your foot to the song as you continued to rifle through your stack of records.

Your parents had left you to stay at St. Mary’s for break as they were stuck on some business venture in Germany. A pro of these trips, they funded your buying habits in exchange for your passive agreement when it came to these sorts of holidays. You missed the days when you were so young they had to just drag you along everywhere they went. You felt like a real family then. Now it just felt like you were a burden to them- another person for them to give their money to.

“Where’d you get that?” a voice asked from the doorway, startling you out of your thoughts. You quickly swing to the doorway, still gripping the empty sleeve of Fleetwood Mac. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it was just the lanky figure of Angus, eyeing you with his arms folded.

“Ever heard of knocking, ya’ prick?” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the music.

“Where’d you get the record player?” he asked again, taking a step into the room. You shrug, keeping your focus on the records and not Angus deciding to invite himself in.

“I stole it from the confiscation closet at St. Mary’s”.

“Really?” he said in shock, almost impressed.

“No, of course I bought it you weirdo” you laughed. He looked much less impressed. “I bought the record player with my own money from working at the pool over the summer, but my parents have given me money for most of these records” you explain, gesturing to the stack. Angus took a spot right next to you, his air of cigarettes and old book pages wafting by you. He stands silently as he begins looking at each record. For him previously having taken every chance for a smart-ass comment at your expense, his silence was a welcome change. For a few minutes the two of you just stood, side by side, flipping over albums and making hums of approval.

“You have Pet Sounds!” Angus said, perking up, as he picked up The Beach Boys album. You can’t help but look over at him. The corners of his mouth are actually pricked up for once, like he’s actually happy.

“You like the Beach Boys?” you asked. He glances over in your direction with his big brown eyes with an incredulous eyebrow raised, in disbelief you would question such things. You can’t help but feel your stomach flip. Honestly how dare someone so annoying be graced with such eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I? They’re really good” he said as he turned back to the album, “d’ya think you can play it?” he asked as he handed it over. You take the album and slide the vinyl out as you place it onto the tabletop. Angus takes a seat at the foot of your bed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Make yourself at home” you sarcastically said as you started the record, before leaning against the dresser, facing the bed. He laughs.

“Such a generous host” he quips as Wouldn’t it Be Nice starts playing from the album. The song seems to zone him out as he stares into the wall behind you, gently nodding along to the music.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

“What are you still doing up?” you ask, breaking him out of his trance. It was almost midnight, and Hunham would certainly kill you both if he caught wind of you two conspiring.

“What are you still doing up?” Angus retorted, “it’s not very St. Mary’s of you to be up late listening to such devilish music” he mocked, waggling his fingers in the air for effect. You can’t help but laugh. He loved acting like your hijinks were an act against God ever since you’d been moved over for the break, all just because you went to St. Mary’s.

“Oh please, the sisters have started praying for my ears because I listen to anything with a guitar,” you say as you swat at him. “They found my single Johnny Cash album and made me clean the dishes for a week to learn…something”. Angus snorted at that and shook his head as the next song faded in from the speakers.

“How have you not gotten kicked out yet?” he asked, “it seems like you just hate it there”. You half heartedly shrug and sit on the corner of the bed he isn’t occupying, your legs graze each other before he quickly moves it closer to his side. You’d be lying if you said your breath didn’t catch in your throat a little. It was a weird experience- being stuck in such close quarters with someone for about a week now. You had both started throwing crumpled up notes to each other during the mandatory class/detention time Hunham prescribed to you both. Most of the notes were just complaining about the situation, how cold it was, how bad Hunham smelled, how hungry you were, how much you wished you were both anywhere else. You drew Angus back a beautiful stick-figure masterpiece of the two of you laying on a beach, although he got pretty mad at how dramatically messy you’d made his hair.

He would never admit it, but he kept it and used it as a bookmark.

“I do hate it, but my parents have moved heaven ‘n hell to keep me there, so I’ve kind of just given up on getting out” you said as you looked down at your feet, swinging back and forth above the floor. He silently nodded, sitting with it for a moment before adding.

“My parents are just waiting for me to mess up so they can send me away” he said quietly, suddenly having a vulnerable air about him. He’d never brought this up before to you. Sure he was a bit of a prick, but he didn’t deserve to get sent off to another school just for being annoying sometimes. He balled his fist in an anxious tic on his knee, and before you can stop yourself, your hand is on top of his fist to try and calm him, or be there for him, or just show him he’s not alone, or maybe you did just secretly want to hold his hand, somewhere deep down.

“It’ll be okay” you respond back, softly. You both freeze at your hand resting on top of his. Everything goes silent except Brian Wilson’s voice coming from the record.

Being here with you feels so right, We could live forever tonight, Let's not think about tomorrow

He slowly unfurls his fist and gently begins to entwine his fingers with yours, his hands are warm, and vaguely shaky, like he’s ready for you to pull away at a moment's notice and act like this was all him imagining it. You wait a second before you gently lean your head onto his shoulder, the scent of cigarettes strong from his jacket, and you can hear him inhale sharply before realizing you’re not leaving.

“You don’t have to pity me y’know. I’m an asshole to everyone, I get what I deserve”

“Shut up Angus”

“Okay” he said with a small laugh as he absentmindedly moved his thumb back and forth on your hand for a while before breaking the silence, “d’ya want to, uhm,-” he says before tripping on his words and going silent again. You can’t help but laugh at him getting stuck on his words, truly a first for him. You nudge your head so you’re looking up at him from his shoulder. He stares intently ahead, as if avoiding your eyes.

“Want to what? Kiss? Do I really have you this nervous?” you tease him which draws a quick reaction from him. He glares down at you before his face softens and he looks away again.

“So what if you did” he scoffs and suddenly stands, letting your hand go as he heads to the door.

“Angus wait I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that-” you say, starting to apologize and follow after him as you stand up. The record skips with an unfortunate scratch before continuing to play. You grab the cuff of his jacket before he can leave.

They say I got brains but they ain't doing me no good, I wish they could

“Angus wait-” you say as you try to pull him back. He turns and suddenly your face is in his hands and his lips are on yours. Before you can react he pulls back and lets you go, leaving him standing in front of you, waiting for your move.

“I’m going now” he says before turning again to leave the room, acting as if he didn’t just kiss you. You slide by him and slam the door in front of him before he can actually leave. Your back props the door shut as you face him, holding out an accusatory finger.

“No- you’re not just going to kiss me and leave and act like you didn’t just do that” you say, feigning some sense of authority as you look up at him, your finger in his face. His lips twinge upwards again before he goes serious again.

“Should I not have?” he asks, “you were the one who put the idea in my head” he said with a smirk. You jab your accusatory finger closer to his face as you try not to knee him in the crotch right then and there.

You open your mouth to reply, but before any noise can come out there’s a knock on the door.

“Miss? Everything alright in there?” Hunham asks from the other side of the door. While you stare at Angus in petrified horror for the next few minutes, he can’t help but look rather satisfied with himself.

“Oh everything’s just fine professor, thanks for your concern!” you answer back, faking a cheerful tone as your eyes never leave Angus’s face, who is failing to conceal his laughing behind his hand, watching you struggle to maintain your cool.

“Mr. Tully doesn’t happen to be in there with you, is he? I noticed his room was empty,” Hunham adds through the door. You stare at Angus’s dumb smirk on his face, scrunched to the side of his face, with his stupid brown eyes looking down at you with a mix of attraction, humor, and misfortune. You grab his jacket collar and pull his face to your level, before swiftly kissing him with the fervor only someone knowing how much trouble they’ll be in for doing so could have. You quickly let go of his jacket and swiftly nudge him back before looking his speechless figure up and down and swinging open the door.

You fake a large toothy smile for Hunham as you hold your hands in front of you, mustering up any energy you had left for the performance of a lifetime.

“Just showing him my record collection sir. I didn’t realize the Barton boys had such a passion for the music arts” you say, looking over at Angus from over your shoulder to see if he was going to be any help in this. He of course wasn’t and just stayed quiet as he brushed past you to the hallway with Hunham.

“A lovely collection” he murmured in the hallway as he finally made eye contact with you from behind Hunham who shakes his head and sighs.

“I wish you two wouldn’t be slamming doors at midnight, but the music arts is an exciting and important endeavor. Off to bed though, say your goodnights,” he said, as he elbowed Angus, certainly not letting the two of them alone again.

“Night” Angus tells you with his smirk, putting his hands back into his pockets.

“Goodnight Angus, perhaps we can continue our conversation later tomorrow” you say, leaning against the doorframe with your own smirk looking back at him. Hunham tuts Angus back down the hall but not before he quickly winks at you, and you can only laugh at it all.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers #AUWherePetSoundsIsRealeased5YearsEarlier

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thatscarletflycatcher · 6 months ago

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I have been using some dead times these past few weeks to go through/purge my latest Project Gutenberg raids, and there are two funny findings I have made:

1- Patricia Brent, Spinster (1918), by Herbert George Jenkins

In general a run-of-the-mill fake dating romance, short and innoffensive, but here's the thing, for anyone familiar with Dorothy L. Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey

The love interest is a lieutenant-colonel Bowen (the story is set in the last year of WWI), wounded in action, D.S.O., M.C. now working at the staff

He's later revealed to be Lord Peter Bowen

He's the second son

His brother holds the title, and his mother, the dowager, is a kind, generous woman with a special link with her second son

Lord Peter has a sister too, Lady Tanagra, who helps the war effort with volunteers

Lord Peter has a man by the name of Peel on the same type as Bunter and Jeeves

Lady Tanagra is in love with a friend of Peter and hers, but nothing has come of it yet because he's of a lower class than her and not rich.

Lord Peter falls in love at first sight with Patricia, and proposes marriage to her many times

She refuses him as many times because of a sense of shameful gratitude and what his family would think

Of course the story and characters are different in several ways, and they are not as charming as Sayers', but the coincidences, the coincidences!

2- The Lonely House (1920) by Marie Belloc Lowndes (sister of Hillaire Belloc)

What I didn't know before downloading this book, is that it is subtitled A Hercules Popeau mystery. Yes, you guessed it, Poirot. But it predates Poirot for a little. The wikipedia page on Poirot puts it this way:

Poirot's name was derived from two other fictional detectives of the time: Marie Belloc Lowndes' Hercule Popeau and Frank Howel Evans' Monsieur Poiret, a retired French police officer living in London.[2] Evans' Jules Poiret "was small and rather heavyset, hardly more than five feet, but moved with his head held high. The most remarkable features of his head were the stiff military moustache. His apparel was neat to perfection, a little quaint and frankly dandified." He was accompanied by Captain Harry Haven, who had returned to London from a Colombian business venture ended by a civil war. [3]

But to say that the name was derived is to understate the situation immensely. Popeau has the physical shape, age, and way of talking and dressing of Poirot. Like Poiret, he's French (though still living in France; the plot of this story happens on a vacation he takes to Monte Carlo with... you won't guess... his friend captain Angus Stuart. A Scottish man, who, believe it or not, falls in love at first sight with our fair protagonist!).

Jules Poiret. Hercule Popeau. Hercule Poirot.

And like, wow, we complain about fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, but if you were into reading many novels in 1920s Britain, there were THREE eccentric, short, plump, dandy-ish, French speaking, British captain adopting sleuths around. We'd have three nickels. Historians 1000 years from now would believe there was a significant number of French and Belgian sleuths traveling England and Europe during the first half of the 20th century.

#Books and libraries #historical literature #homages references and copycats

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studykac · 1 year ago

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🧋06.25.23 🧋

Finally got back to my favourite local café for some studying! I've had tonsillitis for the past week so I've just been comfort (/low-key hate) reading Julia Quinn books since last sunday.

Finished up some practice questions, caught up on my daily vocab in one of my books (still haven't started making the flashcards I specifically bought for this month though rip ㅠㅠ).

Today's audiobook read was Upright Women Wanted by Sarah Gailey and I had some fun with it! It was super short which I'm not complaining about and it was a really good introduction to the future western genre! A pretty solid read overall, and I'm interested in picking up more from Gailey in the future!

I also started a new physical read with Wonderworks by Angus Fletcher, and now I want to reread the Iliad lmao.

🎧 Beggin by Maneskin

📚 Wonderworks by Angus Fletcher

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eulaliasims · 1 month ago

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Round 2, Midwife 5 / 5

Helenet: Did you have fun today?

Angus: Yup. I like playing in the water when it's so hot, and Kinet told me a story about ogres! You spent a lot of time with Elmet.

Helenet: Sorry, love, I thought you were having fun on your own.

Angus: That's okay, but you might get cooties from kissing him. Just so you know.

Helenet: Oh! Uh, in my professional opinion, cooties aren't real.

Angus: Uh-huh.

does no one in this neighborhood move slowly

When Elmet passes by her house that night, Helenet gives into the urge to grab him by the hand and drag him to her bed. Elmet is pretty amenable to it.

Elmet: Not that I'm complaining, but... doesn't the fur bother you?

Helenet: Not really, no. Does it bother you?

Elmet: Not when I'm with you.

This is definitely better than running around the forest at night. But they agree that Elmet should slip out after Helenet falls asleep, rather than Angus finding him there when he runs in to wake Helenet in the morning.

And then the fricking burglar shows up! Before I finished collecting my NPC defaults!!

He stole Helenet's herbalist bench AND the chicken coop. >:(

I hate all of you, why couldn't you wait for me to finish my defaults.

Helenet is disturbed by the whole thing, even if a strangely dressed warrior took away the thief and told her something called an 'insurance payout' would replace her stolen goods. Her dreams are unsettled, and in the morning she can't help but think that if only Elmet had still been there, he surely would've scared the thief off.

Meanwhile, another random wolf is trying to scare Angus into the well.

Helenet: Shoo! Out of here! Eisu, tell your brother to keep these dogs out of my garden, please.

Eisu: He doesn't have any dogs, but okay?

Not sure what Angus was drawing, but it's cute so it gets posted up on the wall.

Luckily the only late night visitor after sunset today is Arturo, wandering out of his grove again.

Helenet: Oh, good, it's just you. Can you teach me how to make wards like you have around your home?

Arturo: That is very advanced magic, little mortal. Why do you want to learn that?

Helenet: Someone broke into my home to steal. Xiang and Norweni are only a shout away, but I worry about what could happen if no one hears...

Arturo: I see. Don't worry, Helenet, I will take care of it. Do you have some chalk? We will get started now.

#TS2 #eulalia: Veridia #sims: Helenet #sims: Angus #sims: Elmet #sims: Eisu #sims: Arturo

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21wanderer · 1 year ago

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MacGyver and son

This story is a fanfic of a show, I've never actually watched, apart from a very few scenes. Nevertheless I think, that viewed in the right context, it would be a very interesting plot twist.

Body a day - #19: Dad

“I still can’t believe he fell for it,” laughed ‘Sam’, whilst Murdoc began to take off all of MacGyver’s clothes.

“Tell me how you managed to achieve this, whatsyourname?” Murdoc asked his partner as he was stripping the former agent and sworn enemy.

“It’s Sam now, and you better not forget it, dad,” said his partner in the guise of a nice young man firmly, “Sean Angus Malloy, but everyone just call me Sam.”

“All right then, Sam... Tell me...”

“Oh, Old MacGyver was a real heartthrob, when he was young, not difficult to imagine with that face and that body, I managed to track down one Kate Malloy, who he had a loving relation with, she was an excellent source of information…”

“How did you get her tell you all this?” Murdoc asked now standing with the naked husk of MacGyver.

“It was easy, really,” Sam replied, “I told her, I was interviewing her for a book. She was apparently very fond of him, so she spent a long time telling me all sorts of stuff about him, and I also got her to tell me about herself. And with your help, I had all that I needed to successfully play his 'long-lost son'. And he believed every single word I told him, I even managed to get him to quit, just to spend time with me.” Sam laughed again at the last remark, then got up from his chair to help Murdoc with the MacGyver-suit.

“Heh, now you’ll certainly live up to your title as ‘master of disguise’, you couldn’t have asked for a better disguise,” Sam grinned.

“You are absolutely right,” gloated Murdoc, having stripped himself naked. He held the hollowed out skin of MacGyver up in front of him, “let’s get to it then.”

Stretching out MacGyver’s mouth ludicrously wide, Murdoc slid his legs one at a time into the warm and squishy skinsuit. Sam pushed the toes into place one by one, as Murdoc pulled MacGyver further up his body. MacGyver’s strong legs were now in place. Murdoc continued, pulling the skin up further, covering his torso, he forced down his arms down MacGyver’s mouth and guided his upper limbs into the empty husk's. He flexed his new hands. Murdoc caressed the rest of his new body, still with MacGyver’s hollow head hanging off his shoulders like a hood. Sam rubbed him on the back, helping him smooth out any creases or flaws.

“Now put on the face, dad” urged Sam, “Heh, all right,” grinned Murdoc and pulled MacGyver’s face over his own, he pushed the facial features into place and opened his eyes. “How do I look, son?”

“You look amazing, dad,” came the reply.

“Yes, this guy is fit,” the new MacGyver said, rubbing his hands across his bare chest and arms, "and pretty handsome too - now the way is open for us, Sam, nothing is going to stop us,” MacGyver laughed, replicated the voice of his enemy perfectly. He paused, looking pensive, then asked; “but if Sam isn’t the son of Malloy and MacGyver, then who is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam indifferently, “just some random pretty young man, that kinda looks like MacGyver, I don’t think there’s any relation between them. But hey, I’m not complaining, and the idiot believed me.” Sam’s boyish demeanour was incredibly convincing and effective at hiding the evil within, and he played the role of easygoing young man with an innocent smile and disarming laughter perfectly.

“I’m ready,” said the MacGyver imposter, having pulled on his victim’s t-shirt, jeans, socks and boots, “get the biker jackets and the rest of the gear, and let’s get going.”

“Sure thing, dad,” laughed Sam. Now they only had one final little role play to wrap up, then they’d be on their way. Murdoc had big plans for using MacGyver’s body, and Sam was the perfect partner. The two imposters went outside to get on their bikes.

youtube

‘MacGyver’ and ‘Sam’ arrived on their motorcycles, in their matching leather biker jackets. ‘Sam’ was quickly of the bike to greet MacGyver’s boss and best friend, Pete Thornton. “Hi Mr. Thornton.”

Mr. Thornton shook his hand, “Sam. What, are you guys all packed for your trip?”

“Just finished,” MacGyver replied. “Oh, MacCyver, the Phoenix Board asked me to give you this,” Thornton said pulling out an envelope from his inner pocket.

“Pete-” said MacGyver trying to cut him off. “It’s an offer of a new contract, and it’s very generous, and I think you oughta look at it.”

“We’ve been through this before,” MacGyver said impatiently, silently pleased with how easy he could deceive even MacGyver's closest friend. “Sam, and I got a little catching up to do,” he continued and padded Sam’s face, Sam laughed.

Accepting defeat, Thornton put the envelope back in his pocket. “Well I – I told them that you wouldn’t go for it,” he paused, “You know… I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like without you around here.” That statement had the most delicious irony, thought MacGyver to himself, trying to look just a little sad. “Well, it was bound to happen – things change.”

“Not always,” replied Thornton, “good things don’t.” MacGyver and Sam both suppressed the urge to laugh. “Don’t you ever change, MacGyver” Thornton continued, clearly being moved by this ‘sad goodbye’, that both MacGyver and Sam played through. “Don’t you either,” replied MacGyver. Thornton opened his arms, and the imposter gave him a hug.

“Well, can I expect to drop in once in a while anyway?”

MacGyver placed a hand on Thornton’s shoulder, “Count on it, my friend.” “Sam,” Thornton said and stretched out his hand to the young man again, “take care of your old man, will ya?” “You can count on it,” Sam replied delightfully, shaking Thornton’s hand a final time.

'MacGyver and son' mounted their bikes. “So – where to?” asked Sam rhetorically as he grabbed his helmet. “Somewhere else,” replied MacGyver rehearsed. Sam sent him one of his boyish smiles, after which they both put on their helmets. They started their engines and headed off. That was the end of the old MacGyver and the beginning of a new.

#body a day #male body suit #male bodysuit #male body transformation #body theft #stolen identity #identity theft #body suit tf #impersonation #imposter #male skinsuit #male bodysuit tf

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panelshowsource · 5 months ago

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who do you think is an underrated panel show guest? like someone who doesn’t appear on them very often but should

ohh fun question... y'know the thing about panel shows these days is they're sooo so so comedian-centric and really a lot of the same people again and again — which i'm not complaining about! i think they're the funniest people in the room and understand the dynamic of a panel show better than anyone else 99% of the time! but when it comes to people i find underrated in the most exciting way it's usually the semi-rare non-comedian who just...gets it. like, back in the day it was people like john barrowman, martin freeman, josh groban, mark ronson, chris o'dowd, christopher biggins, professor green, a couple of the spice girls (they actually run in comedian circles, interestingly)... they just fit into these shows and dynamics so well!

most of the people who have really surprised me in this regard in the last 5 or so years (bc i don't wanna reach back to, like, 2012 for this hahaha) have been on celeb juice or something like graham norton, the last leg, etc. for example, i had no idea will mellor could really hang, take jokes, dish out jokes, and do physical comedy until i saw him on juice. i think that kind of discovery is so fun!

100000% the uk drag girls (the viv being the one we see the most, love her to death and GET HER ON TM!!) NEED to be on more panel shows, jordan north (and get william hanson on SOMETHING this MINUTE), shirley ballas, ronan keating is actually a laugh, a lot of the reality show people (MIC, TOWIE, etc) who do what they do because they don't take themselves too seriously really do Get The Vibe (this is how we got rylan hellooooo), maggie aderin-pocock is an angel, ore oduba, jordan stephens, judge rinder hmm

comedians-wise (ik the drag girls often are comedians, but otherwise), people we've seen a little bit who we should be seeing more of in the name of comedy — alasdair beckett-king, kiri pritchard-mclean, paul foot, larry dean (whoever has the ‘X days since panelshowsource has mention larry dean’ sorry but you gotta reset), glenn moore, amy gledhill, morgana robinson

+ they're not underrated per say but just people i'd like to see again/continue seeing more often include ivo graham, guz khan, chris addison, holly walsh, robert webb, elis james, catherine tate, jess hynes, josie long, peter serafinowicz, humphrey kerr (we haven't seen him in a minute but i always thought he could have developed more of a place in panel show culture), and ffs can we bring back angus? should we? but could we? can we? just for one episode idk? also graham norton get your ass on tm this INSTANT new years

these types of asks always drive me crazy for the rest of the week bc i'm like "ahh i forgot ____!!!" hahahah but lmk what you think too!

#is it so obvious how stream of consciousness ramble this was wow how does even 1 people find the energy to read my responses ever #i haven't googled all of these people so if there is some issue you wanna lmk about just hit me up in the inbox without a pitchfork pls ;;#a

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noodyl-blasstal · 1 year ago

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Fake Dating - TAZNC Day 1

It's @taznovembercelebration time again!!! My first card pull was "Fake Dating" (delicious, also, we're already off the rails). Want to take part too? Find to post here. You can write, draw, share thoughts, anything. It's just a fun time to talk about taz!

Anyway, have some Taakitz! Read below or on Ao3:

“Krav, Kraverooni, Kravino, please? Taako’s asking you from the bottom of his tiny shrivelled up husk of a heart.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes. “You hand reared a litter of kittens you found in a bin bag.”

“Easy money, the resell on those.” Taako says all faux nonchalant, flipping his hand as if Kravitz didn’t sit up all night with him so they could take shifts to sleep but both woke up for every single feed alarm anyway.

“You kept three of them and gave the others away for free.” Kravitz says flatly, "... In fact!" He's worked up now, he's remembering "... You did home inspections for every one to check they'd be safe and happy." There’s no chance he’s going to let Taako pretend he doesn’t care. He cares often and passionately in various directions. “Anyway, who was the one who organised the letter writing campaign to Angus’ school when they tried to stop his soccer team’s funding and put it into the football team?”

“Anyone would have done that.”

“Did anyone else?”

“They might have.”

“If you didn’t?”

“If I didn’t.” There’s a long pause. “It’s not because I care though. Taako just didn’t want to see his sad little face.”

“Because you don’t care.”

“Because he takes up more room when he’s sad. It gets everywhere, the child mope. I’d have to scrub it out of the floors.”

“And why would he be moping here?”

“Because… I… It’s court ordered.”

“Uh huh.” Kravitz has him on the ropes.

“And there’s evidence of that, then, is there? If I googled your name I’d see the sentencing?”

“I had Google wiped by data assassins.”

“I assume you have a copy of the paperwork I could review?”

“Cats ate it.”

“Which ones?”

“This one!” Taako indicated Tiny Taco, who’s gnawing at the string of Kravitz’s shoe. Taako’s got him here, it’s plausible, but…

“Cats plural, who were the accomplices?”

“You don’t know them. Strange cats, a bad crowd that Taco’s been hanging out with. I’ve tried telling him, Taco, son, they’re not worthy of your time, they’re leading you down a bad path, can’t you just play nicely with Garyl and Beans? But no, he worries me sick instead.”

“Taco’s a house cat.”

“He’s been running up massive phone bills.”

“How did they get in the house to eat the documents with him?”

“He pushed it under the door and they lady and the tramped it.”

“You have a porch, the cats aren’t allowed in the porch.”

“The back door.”

“Uh huh. And this flagrant fabrication is easier than admitting you want nice things for Angus?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll think I care.”

“You do care. I watch you care all the time! Today you cared at least three times before breakfast.”

“Nuh uh.” Taako’s squirming in place now, he can’t run though, it’s his house.

“Yuh huh. Who helped Grant with the papers to set up his juice stand?”

“Well it made sense, I set up Sizzle It Up so I knew what to do. It was a chance for Taako to show off.”

“You helped coach Sloane to ask Hurley out.”

“So she’d stop whinging about it to you. She was taking up my valuable Kravitz time.”

“You care about me then?”

“No.” Taako looks pained when he realises what he said and how quickly he said it. “Just the normal amount. The friends amount.”

Kravitz tries not to let it sting. Of course Taako just wants to be friends. It’s fine. Kravitz is a grown up, he can look after himself. He shouldn’t have let it get this far, shouldn’t have let his feelings get so deep. It’s fine, he can just change the subject, they don’t have to do this now, especially not with the current context. “You didn’t let Magnus pet the bear.”

“I should have.” Taako says darkly. “Then I wouldn’t have had needed to listen to him complain all the way home.”

“Also you didn’t want him to die?” Kravitz asks casually, trap closing.

“I’m not a monster.”

“Show off, I can’t believe you’d be so insensitive.” Kravitz flops backwards onto the chair, hand across his eyes.

Taako throws a cushion at him. “Come off it, you love it, wolf boy.”

Kravitz sits up, grins to show off his slightly-sharper-than-they-should-be teeth. “Sounds like I’m not the only one.”

“It’s such a good club, Krav. Lup and Magnus are always saying how fabulous it is there, and who’s more fabulous than Taako?”

“Good point. I can’t think of many people.” He means it, is the problem, Kravitz can’t think of anyone more fabulous, more funny, more handsome… nope!

“Then you see why Taako’s solution is perfect?”

Ah fuck. They’re back to where they started.

“Why me?”

“Do you know any other single werewolves who’d be down to fake-date Taako into The Starblaster?”

Kravitz growls low and slow, surprises himself just as much as Taako. “Er. That… I… I have to go to the bathroom.” Kravitz flings himself off the sofa, dives towards the toilet, slams the lock home, and tries not to let the panic take hold. Maybe Taako didn’t even notice? How often was he even around werewolves? Did he even know what that was? Like, fine, yes, his sister was married to Barry, and Magnus was married to Julia, and Taako was part of their families and he’d seen the dating process up close, and… fuck. No no, it was fine. He was psyching himself out unnecessarily. Barry told him all the time that he worried too much, ocerthought everything, this was fine, good even, he’d just say that it was a cough if Taako asked.

Kravitz splashes his face with cool water. It doesn't help as much as he hoped, but it was worth a go. "It's fine." He says firmly to his own reflection. "He didn't even notice."

“So I couldn’t help but notice…” Taako says, the second Kravitz re-enters the room. It’s probably too late to go hide again. “... that you might be feeling a bit possessive when it comes to other weres dating yours truly.”

“It was a cough.” Says Kravitz, not even convincing himself.

“Uh huh.” Taako isn’t convinced either. “You know, the only condition of getting into The Starblaster is that you're a were or you’re dating one.”

“I’m aware.” Kravitz cannot believe Taako is still focused on the club while simultaneously tearing away the carefully constructed wall Kravitz has been using to hide his ridiculous unwanted feelings for months. Doesn't he care? He could at least be offended. The indifference hurts.

“Well it doesn’t have to be fake. I didn’t realise you’d be down.”

“Are you offering to sleep with me to get into the stupid club?” Kravitz is angry now, furious. He thought they were friends, he thought Taako wanted some kind of relationship with him - even if it was just friendship, he would have been happy with friendship. He doesn’t want this, it should be special, not just some flippant transactional thing.

“No! I’m offering to sleep with you because I like you, you idiot.”

“Wait, did you just proposition me, confess you have a crush on me, and call me an idiot in the same breath?” Kravitz didn’t know whether to be offended or elated, settles on something in the middle.

“Sounds about right. Wanna kiss about it?”

Kravitz does, in fact, want to kiss about it, but first he needs to know what is going on. “You like me? Romantically like me?”

Taako arches an eyebrow and looks peeved about the lack of kissing. “Obviously.”

“For the club?”

“A bit for the club.” Taako’s forehead wrinkles. “It’s really cool. I’m not going to lie to you. But that’s more a perk of the boning, not the reason for it.”

Kravitz sinks down onto the sofa. Taako likes him back, Taako likes him back and not just because he wants to go to the stupid club.

“If anything, the boning will be the biggest perk of the boning.” Taako says cheerfully, pats him on the shoulder.

“Why are you like this?” Kravitz asks through his hands, face buried.

“You love it.” Taako says, plonking himself down next to Kravitz and throwing an arm around him. “Can we skip to the kissing bit now, or do I need to tell you about how I was gonna fake date you so hard you’d forget we weren’t real dating?”

“Can we do both?”

“You want me to talk through the kisses?”

“Between them?”

“Fine, but it’s a talk sandwich, kissing bread.”

“Kissing bread.” Kravitz extracts his face from his hands, sits up, and nods solemnly.

“Here we go!” Taako says, leaning in.

“No!” Kravitz scoots backwards. “That was terrible, awful. Our first kiss is not going to be prefaced by “here we go!””

“You do better then.” Taako’s arms are crossed and he’s doing the frowny thing and Kraivtz is going to kiss every grumpy furrow out of his brow.

“I’ve wanted to do this for months.” Says Kravitz simply, makes it inches from Taako’s lips before he pulls back.

“That’s not fair! You can’t just be all suave out of nowhere. What am I supposed to say to top that?”

“You don't need to top it, it’s not a competition.”

“It could be. If it was.”

“Well it isn’t.” Kravitz says firmly. He reaches for Taako, trying to draw him back in. They were so close to finally getting it together.

“Buckle up, sweetlips.”

Kravitz stands, horrified. “Taako! What… why would you?”

Taako’s too busy laughing to answer. “Your… your face!” He gasps out.

“Do you want to kiss or not?” Kravitz is trying not to be petulant, he’s trying so hard, he’s failing.

Taako dives forward and crashes their mouths together. Kravitz can’t entirely tell when his mouth opened, or when exactly Taako started to nip at his lip, but it’s good, it’s great, even. Kravitz’s hands pull Taako closer, closer, closer, cradle his face, weave into his hair, help pull him down when he moves to straddle Kravitz’s lap. It’s messy and passionate and perfect, he doesn’t want it to end.

“Wanna kiss or not?” Taako pulls back, then snorts with laughter.

“I would love to do more kisses, why don’t you come back down here?” Kravitz asks, running a hand over Taako’s chest in what he hopes is an alluring manner.

“No, you said… I… it’s perfect. “Wanna kiss or not?” and then we did. That’s how we got together.” He collapses onto Kravitz’s chest, giggling furiously.

“You tricked me!”

Taako laughs harder.

“We’re going to have to tell people that when they ask.” Kravitz says, aghast. He really doesn't want to have to tell anyone this story.

Taako attempts to sit back, taking a moment to collect himself. “We’re going to <i>get</i> to tell people when they ask. What a gift!”

“A gift.” Kravitz repeats, quietly, carefully.

“Hey Krav?”

“Yes Taako?”

“I think you’re great.”

“I think you’re great too.”

“Wanna kiss about it?”

Kravitz cups Taako’s face, brings it gently, reverently towards him like Taako’s the most precious thing in the world. He might be in this moment. Kravitz kisses each cheek softly, then his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips. It’s gentle, tentative, full of care.

Taako pulls back. “You’re going to tell people this was what happened, aren’t you?”

“Yep!” Kravitz says happily, pressing their lips together again.

“Fine. But I’m telling the real story.” Taako says huffily before kissing a firm line from Kravitz’s collar bone to his jaw. “The people need to know.”

“Uh huh.” Kravitz is finding it harder to focus on anything but the insistent kisses on his neck and the hands working themselves down his chest. “Gotta give the people the…” He tails off as Taako’s teeth graze his neck. “What… they… it’s science.”

“Uh huh.” Taako replies. “Great point.”

“No more words, just kissing.” Kravitz tugs Taako closer again.

“Are you going to tell people this bit too?” Taako asks.

“Ssssh.” Kravitz kisses Taako again. “Nothing about other people, just about us.”

“Just us.” Taako nods. “And how much fun we’re going to have at The Starblaster.”

Kravitz sighs.

“Hey Krav?” Taako noses at his cheek.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we figured it out.”

“Me too, Taako. Me too.”

Thank you for reading! You can find the next day here.

#TAZNC #TAZ November Celebration #TAZ Balance #Taakitz #Taako #Kravitz #Noodyl Writes

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