Masterlist
started: 05/23/23
Last updated: 08/14/23
Neteyam
Not so fond series:
Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
Part 5.
Part 6.
Part 6. (2)
Part 6. (3)
Part 6. (4)
Part 6. (5)
Part 7. Finally
Part 8.
Part 8. (2)
Part 9.
Part 10.
Part 11.
Part 12.
Part 13.
Part 14.
Lo’ak
No one’s around.
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hello cherry!!
I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)
I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping
Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it.
A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!
Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)
Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5
It was extremely unprofessional.
That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.
It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard.
Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down.
You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box.
Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks.
You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”
You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.”
His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about.
Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”
A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”
Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”
You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
“Oh god, oh god, oh god!”
You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer.
You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed.
By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor.
Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
You have no idea how you got here.
The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you.
You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom.
You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head.
You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch.
A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you.
He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”
That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist.
His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face.
“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”
A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating.
His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy.
His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”
A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”
Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out.
The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.
“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”
A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again.
Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart.
Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear.
You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup.
A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door.
“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.
Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”
A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.
Just benefits of the job.
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Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: How to Dress
This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI.
I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.
Today will be focusing on the rules of clothes with this time period.
A Cut for Every Occasion
As you may know, the wealthy elite and their servants lived extremely regimented lives and every aspect was governed by careful rules. They would be expected to wear the right outfit at the right time, every minute of the day. Any misstep would be noticed at once and be subject to scruntiny.
In the circles of the elite, one would be expected to change for every occasion. One simply wouldn't wear the same outfit they've been lying around the house in to attend tea at somebody's house. Fashion in this era was dictated by the clock and by the event diary of the wearer.
Ladies
Women of the upperclass would be expected to change at least six times a day. When she would rise for a morning of repose around the house, she would simply wear a house gown or a simple blouse and skirt. If planning a morning stroll, she would change into a walking suit which is a combination of blouse, skirt and jacket along with her hat usually of tweed. If running errands or paying a visit to friends, she would wear another walking suit. If riding, she would wear a riding habit and a hat. If hosting tea or taking tea in her own home, she would change into a tea gown with is a lighter more airier gown more comfortable for chilling in. If attending a garden party, one wears a pastel or white formal day gown accompanied by a straw hat and gloves. For dinner, she would change into an evening gown which would be more elaborate and show off a little more skin than her day wear. After dinner and ready for bed, she would change into her nightgown.
Female servants had an easier time of it. A housekeeper and lady's maid would simply wear a solid black gown for the entire day. A cook and kitchen maids would wear a simple day dress for working with an apron. Housemaids would usually wear a print dress with an apron and cap, changing into the more formal black and white attire you would associate with a maid.
Gentlemen
The gentlemen had an easier time but they too were subject to changes throughout the day. Men were expected to wear a suit. The most popular day time suit was a sack suit. These were comprised of plain and loose fitting jackets, worn over a starched shirt with a high collar, waistcoat and straight trousers with ironed creases. These suits were exclusively wool with cheaper ones made of a wool and cotton blend. Grey, green, brown, navy were usual but sine younger men preferred louder colours such as purple which was a trend for a time in the 1910s. These suits were worn about the house or in the city accompanied by a coat. Men would change into tweed if shooting or walking. For garden parties, a gentleman would wear a light coloured suit, usually white and a straw hat. For dinner, a man had two choices: his tails or his dinner jacket. A dinner jacket was for less formal suppers say if dining at home. This was a collection of a jacket, trousers, waistcoat, a bow tie, a detachable wing-collar shirt and black shoes. Lapels of these jackets were edged with silk or satin. Tails were worn at a formal dinner party, at White Tie events. This was made up of a tailcoat, white piqué waistcoat, a starched dress shirt with a pique bib and standing wing collar with a white bow tie. Trousers were lined with trim to hide the seams.
Male servants were soared changing. Footmen would wear their livery around the clock which would resemble white tie to a certain extent or mimic court dress of palace servants. Butler's would wear a variation of a gentleman's evening suit throughout the day. When a male servant is dressed, he usually stays that way. However, a valet or a footman may be taken to pick up during shooting parties where they would wear tweed walking suits.
Jewellery
Jewellery was an important sign of status in society. Upperclass women of this time has access to untold caches of sparklers but there were rules concerning their use and meaning. Earrings were usually clip ons as women of high status would not pierce their ears. Simple, understated earrings were worn during the day with more ostentatious sets were worn in the evening time. Broaches were popular at this time, usually worn at the throat of a gown or blouse or walking suit or affixed on hats. Large stoned rings were worn over gloves while slender bands were worn under. Jewellery was intricate and understated amongst old money whole the nouveau riche went for chunkier stones and larger settings. Tiaras were only worn at White Tie events, held after six pm and almost never by unmarried girls. One would not wear a larger tiara than that most senior lady present. Men would wear tie pins, cufflinks and pocket watches to match any occasion be it for a jaunt on the town or at a formal evening party.
Hats
Hats were a staple in this period. Anybody respectable from any class wouldn't venture out of the door without a hat.
Men would wear hats when heading out but always remove them when entering a building, and never wear one without removing it for the presence of a lady. The bowler was seen as more a servant's headwear while a top hat was reserved for gentlemen. Flat caps would be only seen on gentlemen at shooting gatherings or in the country, they were popular among the common class for any informal occasion.
Women had more stricter rules concern hats. Hats for women were more a day accessory worn while out and about. A woman would not wear a hat in her own home even when entertaining and nor would any of the other female occupants if joining the gathering. A woman would not remove her hat when attending a luncheon or tea or any activity. Hats were held in place by a ribbon or sash tied under the chin or by a hat pin, which is essentially a large needle thrust through the hair. This was the period where women's hats became more ornate and rather large, leading to some critisism. Among servants, housekeepers and lady's maids would not wear a hat while indoors and working but a housemaid or cook or kitchen maid would cover their hair with a cap with housemaids changing into a more elaborate one come evening time. Male servants would not wear hats unless travelling or outdoors.
Gloves
Gloves are a staple in this period and worn only at the opportune time. Among servants, only footmen would wear gloves and usually only when serving. Butlers would never wear gloves. Female servants did not wear gloves.
Men did wear gloves, usually woollen or leather while outside or riding gloves when out on horseback.
Women wore gloves whenever outside. Day gloves were usually wrist length, with evening gloves stretching to the elbow. During dinner, evening gloves would be removed at the first course and laid across the lap, replaced at the last course when the ladies leave for tea and coffee after where the gloves are then removed again. Gloves are always worn when dancing and at the theatre or opera. If one is sitting in ones box and sampling some chocolate, one can remove their gloves for that.
Hair and Makeup
Make up was a no-no amongst the upper crust and for their servants in England and America, as it was seen as licentious but in France, the use of rouge was accepted. Perfume and cologne were acceptable but excessive use was frowned upon.
Hair was dressed by one's lady's maid. Bouffant updos were popular in this time period for married women. During the last years of this period, women began adopting the 'bob' but this was seen as radical and sometimes scandalous. Unmarried girls could wear their hair down, often with accessories like a bow to adorn their tresses. Servants would always tie up their hair and never be seen with it down or uncovered (though this depended on their job).
Men would comb their hair, slicking it back for dinner. Most men were clean shaven but if they wore beards, they were usually well groomed. Hair was kept short for grown men and teenagers but young boys may wear their hair longer whilst in the nursery.
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the skz house: ch 1
Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’, you decide to check it out.
Chapter One: Of Breakups and New Housing
You’re sitting on the curb next to several suitcases and trash bags full of your belongings, feeling humiliated as cars pass by. You can’t fucking believe you thought it would be a good idea to rent an off campus apartment with your boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend, of three years. It’s not even a full two months into the semester and you both already decided to call it quits. Things had been rocky over the summer to begin with, but you hoped living together would fix it.
You were wrong. And stupid for letting him put only his name on the lease.
So what are you gonna do now? You can’t call your parents, they told you this was a bad idea from the start. You can’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Your friends are all in the dorms and, sure, you can crash with them for a couple nights but you need to find something for the remainder of the year.
You take out your phone, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes as you start looking for somewhere to live. A one bedroom apartment by yourself is completely out of the monthly budget your parents send. You’ll have to settle on a room or some sort of shared living environment.
Your scrolling stops when you see a post that says ‘FREE IN-HOUSE STAY’. You click on it to read more.
FREE IN-HOUSE STAY
It’s that time of year again. The members of Sigma Kappa Zeta (SKZ) have beds to fill. Stay will be free of charge, however there are stipulations. Further details will be provided in person. Send a direct message if you’re interested and we will provide the interview date.
You’ve heard of the SKZ fraternity in passing, but never participated much in Greek life on campus. The post feels a little sketchy, if you’re being honest with yourself, but you send the email anyways. If you can pocket the money your parents are sending and stay somewhere for free, maybe you can turn this shitty situation around in your favor.
You receive an email the following day that advises you to fill out an NDA and an application complete with a picture of yourself. You also go to a nearby clinic to complete a drug test and various other checks. Your interest in the ad is piqued, but the night spent on the floor of your friends dorm encourages you to pursue it.
Two days later you find yourself standing outside of the SKZ house with ten other women. The house is in a gated community and sits on a pretty large lot, enough room between it and the next that neighbors probably didn’t mind a bunch of college students staying there. It’s a three-story home and not too far from campus, maybe a thirty minute walk.
At 1:00pm the door opens and a tall, kinda lanky boy with a slender face greets you all. His eyebrows and most of his eyes are hidden behind his bangs, but he dons a welcoming smile. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt with ΣΚΖ written across the chest in green letters.
“Please, come in,” he says, gesturing for you all to enter.
You all huddle in the foyer and he closes the door when the last girl enters before leading you into the living room. There’s a large, navy blue sectional where you all sit. When he exits the room, you fold your hands in your lap and cross your legs, shaking your nerves out through your foot. as you wait for whatever is about to happen.
You hear footsteps coming down the hall and eight men enter the room. If your life were a movie (it most definitely isn’t, you’re sleeping on a floor, remember?), this scene would play out in slow motion. They exude an air of confidence and nonchalance all at the same time. They’re all of similar heights, with hair color ranging from black to blonde, some are lanky, some are muscular—one is flat-out buff, and they’re all Korean. They’re…handsome? The word doesn’t feel like it suffices, though. Each and every one of them are breathtaking in a way that feels completely unfair and makes you question why you’re even there.
They spread out in a line in front of the TV mounted on the wall opposite the sectional. They’re all wearing the same thing—jeans and the black shirt with their fraternity initial across the front.
“Thank you for coming here today, ladies,” one of them starts to speak with a light Australian accent.
As your eyes focus on him, he looks familiar. He’s in one of your classes. He seemed rather quiet and reserved in class, but here he’s easily taking charge and leading the situation. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment and he offers a tight-lipped half-smile and nod.
“I’m Chan,” he continues. “The is Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin.”
Each member waves as he gestures to them and says their name. Seungmin is the one who had opened the door.
“We’re sure you’re curious as to what our post entails…let me explain.” Chan begins. “Here at Sigma Kappa Zeta, we strongly pursue the strongest version of ourselves. We work hard, study hard, and play hard. We want all of our members to be at their best at all times. We cannot achieve the goals and dreams we have if we are weak in any area. Which brings us to having you here today.”
Your eyes dart to the other men standing in the line, but it’s impossible to read their expressions.
“We are looking for four women to reside in our home. Your duties will be cooking and cleaning for the household, and pleasing the members you are assigned to.”
You can only blink as you stare at him. Assigned to? And did he say please the members? Does he mean fuck?
“We believe that with these essential needs met,” he continues without missing a beat. As if he hasn’t just uttered something completely scandalous. “Our members will be free to flourish and earn our spots next to our SKZ predecessors.”
He stops for a moment and steps forward from the others.
“I know how this sounds. Misogynistic. Throughout the many years of this tradition, it has proved to work in our Stays’ favor as well, though. You’ll have your needs met, less stress and many Stays have reported a boost in their overall happiness and confidence.” He says. “We know you are students, too, and we don’t want to impede on your education or your own personal goals. That being said, it’s not a position suitable for everyone, we know that. We also know, that should you choose to participate, you will have an invaluable sense of community throughout your time here. You will have free room and board, and be allowed time to focus on your own success. Any resources we have access to can be yours as well.”
He claps his hands together.
“Now that you know what this entails, please remain seated if you’re still interested. If not, kindly exit—but we would like to remind you of the NDA you signed.”
He pauses for a beat. Two girls stand and promptly exits the home. You stay rooted in your seat. You’re a decent cook. You can clean. You think you could be a good fit for the position. You’ve also been with the same guy since your freshman year, so the prospect of experiencing something new in any capacity intrigues you. And honestly, right now, a free bed sounds more tantalizing than the floor, doesn’t it? You subconsciously roll out the kink in your neck at the thought.
“Eight of you still here,” he says with a nod. “We’ll call each of you up, you’ll introduce yourself, walk past each member, then take your seat. We will then leave to deliberate. When we come back, we’ll let you know which of you are staying and who you’re assigned to.”
You shift around in your seat and nod your head. Chan steps back in line and calls the first name. You watch as each girl walks in front of the men, wondering what’s going through their head—what are they looking for exactly?
When you hear your name called, your heart begins to race. You stand and announce your name, your major, and year in school. You then walk towards Jeongin and slowly make your way to Chan. It’s quick, but not painless. It’s fucking nerve-racking as they each stand there, stone faced.
When all the girls are seated on the couch again, the men exit the room. You’re all quiet as you wait for them to come back. It takes nearly half an hour.
Chan announces the names. The first girl called is assigned to Jeongin and Han. The second is assigned to Felix and Lee Know. The third goes to Seungmin and Changbin.
There are five of you left on the couch. You begin to feel nervous that you may not be chosen, but the next name that falls from Chan’s lips is yours.
Your try your best to hide your surprise as you stand and step forward, hearing that you’re with Chan and Hyunjin.
“Thank you, ladies, for coming today. If you haven’t graduated next year, we welcome you to come back again.” Chan says to the others on the couch before showing them to the door.
When he returns, the eight of them shift around to stand in front of their assignee.
In front of you is Chan. You can’t help but notice the way the sleeves fit tightly around his biceps, and the veins protruding from his arms. Hyunjin is standing next to him—he’s taller than Chan, but a little more thin. His overall presence is softer. You try not to stare too much.
“We’ll give you a tour of the place, show you where you’re staying and then you may retrieve your belongings and return by 5:00pm to prepare dinner. You will cook for whoever you’re assigned to, and get to know each other over dinner.” Chan continues to take charge.
You’re then led on a tour of the house. The first floor has the living room, kitchen, and a bathroom. The kitchen has two separate stoves, a huge pantry and a ton of cabinet space. There’s even an island with bar stools along one side of it. They then take you all down to the basement where there’s a pool table, an old keg, a bar, TV, and beer pong table.
On the second floor is four bedrooms. They tell you who resides on each floor, but do not allow you into the rooms unless it’s someone you’re assigned to. Hyunjin is on the second floor.
He opens the door to the room and you peek inside. You see that there’s a Queen sized bed, dresser, and desk covered in art supplies. Next to his bed is a twin sized bed, bare of any sheets. Is that where you’ll sleep? You wonder.
“The bathroom at the end of the hall on the second floor is strictly for you all to use,” Chan announces as you all make your way up to the next floor.
On the third floor, you’re allowed to see Chan’s room. It’s significantly larger than Hyunjin’s, with it’s own bathroom. He also has a queen bed, nightstands, a dresser and desk. However, the twin sized bed is further from his own, against the opposite wall. It, too, is bare of any sheets.
After the tour, everyone breaks off into groups of whomever their paired with. You’re in the kitchen with Hyunjin and Chan standing on either side of you. You exchange numbers with both of them.
“So you’re majoring in Biology?” Hyunjin speaks to you for the first time.
You nod, unable to find your voice. Still somewhat in shock of what the hell is even happening.
“She’s nervous,” Chan says, easily able to read you.
“Don’t be,” Hyunjin says with softened eyes. “It sounds more intimidating than it really is. This is a mutual thing, okay? We help each other.”
“Okay,” you reply quietly.
“Do something simple for dinner tonight,” Hyunjin continues. “Pasta? With shrimp?”
He looks over to Chan who shrugs and nods in response.
“We’re not as demanding as the others—we won’t be expecting full course meals.”
“You got lucky,” Chan adds.
Got lucky? Did you? Or did you just get yourself into an inexplicable situation? They didn’t mention anything about what should happen if you change your mind. Are you even allowed to? Perhaps you should have read through the NDA a little better. First the lease, now this…you’re not the best with contracts, are you?
Chan produces a credit card from his wallet and hands it to you.
“Return with your things by 5:00pm. You can get groceries and bedding with this. Two twin-sized sets.”
You take the card from him and put it in your pocket.
“We’ll see you soon,” Hyunjin says in a sing-songy voice with a smile.
“See you,” you say lightly and try to return the smile.
You’re still feeling awkward about the entire ordeal, but you’re somewhat at ease at how respectful they all seem. You’re not sure if you’ll be forced to do anything you don’t want to…but as you think about how handsome every single man in the house is…will you eventually want to?
After going to get groceries and bedding (two sets), you get your belongings from your friends dorm then take an Uber back to SKZ house.
You’re a little early, but the door is open. You place your personal things to the side and go to the kitchen to start on dinner. You’re thankful they chose an easy meal, but go the extra mile to make the Alfredo sauce from scratch. It’s one of the few recipes you remember by heart from your mother. You season the shrimp and cook it up with butter and garlic.
The other girls start to arrive and space in the kitchen becomes severely limited, even with two stoves for you all to use. You start to wonder if they’ll all have dinner at the same time every day because that may prove to be quite a challenge. You all move around each other easily enough, but you don’t really say much.
When the food is done and plated, you send Hyunjin and Chan a text that dinner is ready.
They come into the kitchen moments later, grab their plates, then lead you down to the basement for the second time today.
It’s definitely not a fancy or romantic environment. Sitting at a beer pong table and seated on fold out chairs, but you’re not uncomfortable. Nervous as shit. But not uncomfortable.
You wait for them to eat first. They both nod appreciatively after taking their fist bite.
“You must have a lot of questions,” Chan says, twirling pasta around his fork.
“Ask us anything,” Hyunjin prompts.
You’re silent for a moment, chewing your food. You have what feels like a million questions, and want to get the most important one out of the way first.
“Am I gonna be fucking you both?”
Hyunjin coughs on the food he’s eating and Chan let’s out a soft chuckle. He hands Hyunjin his glass of water.
“Well…yes,” is Chan’s blatant reply.
You expect him to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Like…at the same time or is there some sort of schedule or…?” You trail off.
Hyunjin, finally recovered from his coughing fit replies, “It’s really up to the three of us to decide specifics. You’ll be in either of our rooms, on a rotating schedule. We could do every three nights. Monday-Wednesday and Thursday-Saturday? Sunday will be your choice.”
You nod slowly, more in understanding than agreement at this particular moment.
“This tradition works best when it operates like a well oiled machine,” Chan says. “Always be honest with us. Let us know if you aren’t feeling well, if you have your period—anything.”
“There’s actually an app we can all access if you’re uncomfortable telling us, we can use that.” Hyunjin adds.
“And when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you and the other girls can work out whatever kind of schedule works best for all of you.” Chan continues.
The absurdity of the arrangement starts to feel less worrisome as they talk. The situation itself is still quite insane, but they speak about it so casually that it seems normal.
They allow you to pester them with questions as you finish up the meal. They’re all business majors, Hyunjin’s minor is Art and Chan’s is music. They’re all legacies at Sigma Kappa Zeta—meaning their fathers, and grandfathers for some, had been members too. They have all been on a certain career track since they were born to father’s that are successful business owners in Korea and Australia. They each came to the states in high school, studied at a prestigious boarding school and now here they all are, in college, together.
You can’t fathom having your entire life planned out that way. Perhaps it would take out some of the things you stress about regarding your future, though. Clearly, their parents all want what’s best for them.
They explain a few other rules like—you’re not allowed to date or have sex with anyone outside of the members, and that’s a rule everyone in the house follows. Failure to adhere will result in immediate removal from the home.
After you’ve asked all your questions, you all head back up stairs. The others are scattered throughout the house, some at the dinning room table, some in the living room. Through the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, you see a few of them out there too.
“We’ll handle the dishes for tonight,” Hyunjin tells you, taking the plate and glass from your hands.
“Take your things upstairs, make up your bed in each of our rooms. There’s some closet and drawer space in each for you.” Chan says.
“Where am I sleeping tonight?” You ask.
“It's Sunday. Your choice,” replies Hyunjin. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s really just where you’ll sleep. It’s not like you won’t be able to interact with the other person or anyone else in the house based on where you sleep, okay?”
You nod.
They take off towards the kitchen. You retrieve your belongings and head up stairs. In Hyunjin’s room you make the bed with the dark blue bedding set—it’s adorned with different flower types and feels fitting. You recalled seeing the flowers he was painting on his desk when you made this choice. You’re not sure how to divide up your clothing but decide to place a bit of everything in both rooms.
When you make it up to Chan’s room, you put away the rest of your clothes then make up the bed here too. The set you chose for his room is black with teal and purple nebula on it. He has LED lights lining all four walls, near the ceiling. You thought it might look nice when they’re turned on.
After making the bed, you sit down on and allow yourself a break to think.
You now have to decide who's room you’ll be sleeping in tonight.
[ read chapter two here ]
a/n: yeah, this was a random idea that i'm just gonna roll with. no idea where its gonna go yet, but this will be fun to write. have to set the scene with this first chapter, the smut is coming, don't worry :)
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Synopsis: Physical activities were not something you enjoyed. Never participating and distracting other students was all you did during class; but as soon as the new P.E teacher’s aid catches you slacking, she decides to teach you a lesson. *inspiration: bad liar by selena gomez*
Warnings: 18+, MIDN, F/F, suggestive and offensive language, 80s!AU, abby is 19yo & reader is 18yo, smut, top!abby, bottom!reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), after care, T.A!abby x popular!reader
important info about my stories here
©machetegirl109 (credits to bad liar by selena gomez that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms
Word Count: 3.5k+
Oneshot: Bad Liar
❝︎you're taking up a fraction of my mind❞︎
The mid-day sunlight entered through the gymnasium windows just right. The sound of shoes squeaking against the light wooden floor along with vivid and loud voices were present as the ladies played around and talked to each other, waiting for the teacher’s arrival to the last class of the day. The girls were wearing a loose fitting white t-shirt with a small logo of the school printed on the right side of the chest, the low-cut sleeves colored navy blue as well as the matching pair of shorts. Tall retro socks with two blue stripes and a red one in the middle covered their calves, each of them wore a different brand of worn out white sneakers.
Your high top vans tapped onto the floor as you sat on the bleachers, elbows positioned over each knee while you kept your head high and talked to some of your classmates who surrounded you. Ever since the beginning of the school year you seemed to attract other girls. Not only your good looks, but also your “I’m too cool for this,” energy made them fall head over heels for you; making them chase after you every day — The most lucky girls were the ones who also had Physical Education on the last period of their schedules, just like you. You weren’t fond of the class; either always showing up 5 minutes before it was time to leave, or laying on the bleachers while the others runned around and participaded on the sports.
What even is the point of running around chasing after balls? There are better ways to exercise.
“Alright, ladies! Get in line!” Joel Miller, the gym teacher, yelled as he got into the gym, pushing the double doors hard enough to make them knock on the walls, letting out a loud bang. Everyone stopped talking as soon as he made his way to the middle of the space with a tall, muscular blonde girl walking beside him, silent as she observed the spacious gymnasium and all the students present there. The girls that previously talked to you went ahead to join the line that was forming and Joel soon stopped in front of them, holding his clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. The blonde curiously stares in your direction, seeing you lazily seated over the aluminum while the others stood before the teacher.
“First things first, M’ gonna do the roll call and then we’ll go over some things! Amber?”
“Here.” Joel wrote a checkmark beside her name and followed to the next.
“Ellie?”
“Sup’ teach’.”
“Dina?”
“I’m here, teacher.” As he called out each name, the girls announced their presence and he scribbled down onto the paper, eyes never leaving the list.
“Okay, last but not least, Y/N?” Joel finally looked up, eyes going through the line of girls in front of him as he looked for his least favorite student.
“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You called out from your seat, all of those inside the warm gymnasium looked over to you; a shameless smile on your face when you waved your hand.
“Ah, glad you finally decided to join us for class today.” He dryly chuckes, adding a checkmark to your name. “M’ not even gonna ask whatcha doin’ sitting down.” You giggle at the annoyed tone in his voice and he turns back to the other students. “So, from today on we’re gonna have a new addition to the class! I want you all to welcome Abigail Anderson!” Joel points to the girl beside him, who stands proud with her arms crossed and her braid falling onto her broad shoulder. Abby opens a small smile and nods as the girls babble hellos’ and welcomes’. “Abby here, will be working as my T.A for the rest of the school year so make sure to respect her and follow her orders, understood?” The girls nod and let out sounds in agreement.
“Thanks, I'm looking forward to working with you all.”
“With that out of the way, we’ll be playing volleyball today! I want one team on each side of the court, now!” Joel blows his red whistle and the students start to get ready in two different teams as you only sit back and watch. He turns to Abby and begins to give her some heads up on how things work during class and what to expect.
“What about that one?” She points to you, who looks bored as you pick out your nails and talk to Ellie and Dina. Joel blows the whistle once more, making you and the two girls look back at him.
“Ellie and Dina! I advise you two to go play or I’ll give y'all zero’s for the day!” The girls shoot you an apologetic look, wishing they could talk to you a little longer since they were enamored by your charming presence. You wave them a small goodbye and Joel directs his attention to Abby once more. “I gave up on her a long time ago, all she does is sit around and distract the other girls; that is when she actually shows up. Definitely the worst student I’ve ever had in all my 30 years of teaching.”
“She’s that bad, huh?”
“Y/N has an F in P.E, which is the easiest class in her entire schedule… She’ll most likely fail.” He says in disbelief and they both look at you.
“Hm, maybe I can help,” The blonde says, a small smirk forming on her face.
“Yeah? What do you suggest?”
“She can stay after class and do some extra-credit, maybe run some laps, play some volley, just to make up for the time she wastes in class. I could also make her clean the gymnasium afterwards.” Joel smiles at the ideas and nods, patting her on the back.
“Great. You’ll definitely make a good teacher someday, Abigail!” Abby thanks him, and soon they switch their attention to the game.
After 30 minutes the class comes to an end as Joel checks the time in his Seiko Diver wrist watch. Placing the small whistle between his lips and blowing on it with force, he claps his hands together signaling to the girls that it was finally time to go home.
“Alright , ladies! Class is over, you’re all free to go!” The students drop the volleyball to the floor and begin to make their way to the exit. You stand and stretch your body, a wide playful smile on your face.
“Ahh, thank God, I was about to fall asleep here!” You say walking towards the double doors, but as soon as you reach for the handle, Joel shouts your name, making you stop on your track. “Need something, Mr. Miller?”
“No, but you do. You need to get a passing grade for my class and Abby will make sure you do. You’re staying here until she tells you to go, understood?” Your face falls to the ground as you look at the girl beside him. She’s wearing a tight light yellow t-shirt under a red sports jacket and some white shorts that exposed her strong, pretty legs, as well as tall white socks that hugged her thick calves and a worn off Adidas Top Ten RB — At least she’s cute you think before the current situation hits you again.
“What? Why?!” You ask shocked, making your way towards the middle of the room, where both of them stood.
“ ‘Cause you’re falling and Abby was kind enough to suggest you earn some extra-credit.” You groan loudly and throw your head back. “I’ll be off now. Be sure to behave, Y/N. Don’t cause me any more problems. Good luck, Abigail.” You watch as Joel leaves, leaving you and Abby alone. You turn to the girl, a bitter smile on your face as you think of what to say next.
“Ha… You could’ve been kind enough to keep your suggestions to yourself. I can’t believe I have to spend the rest of my Friday here! I had plans, you know?” You ask sacarstily, as you move forward, chest to chest with her. Abby looks down at your pretty face, a pout on your lips as she lets out a small laugh; making fun of your anger.
“I’ll be kind enough to suggest you keep that pretty mouth shut and run 100 laps around the gymnasium.” A naughty grin plays on her lips as her blue eyes stare into yours. “Now, princess.”
“You’re fucking joking right now, I’m not running—“
“150 laps now.” You gasp and try to push her, failing to since Abby is built like a tank.
“You’re not the boss of me, I don’t have to do anything!”
“Now I am, and yes, you do. Now run me 150 laps and I want you to count them out loud every time you finish one.” Abby states, grabbing the whistle that hangs from her neck and placing them between her pinkish lips, blowing into it and making the loud pitch hurt your ears.
“Ugh! The fuck is your problem?!” You say as your hands go up to your now sensitive ears, massaging them; you throw the girl before you a dirty look.
“The more you whine, the more you run. 200 now. Go.” Hearing the seriousness of her voice, you shoot her another expression before you walk to the side of the court; quietly calling her a cunt as you get ready to run. “I heard that!” You roll your eyes and you run, counting each lap as you reach the starting point before circling the gym, over and over again. Sweat accumulates around your forehead as your body begins to feel warm and tired, your legs ache as tremble and all Abby does is stand there, staring at you. Soon you reach the 200 count. You stop running and you press your hands on top of both knees, your chest rising fast as you catch your breath.
“I-I’m fucking done now.” You shout and close your eyes, thanking the Gods you can finally go home now. Abby laughs and you look at her, not sure of what is so funny.
“I don’t think you are. Come here,” She says as she grabs the volleyball that was on the floor. “We'll play a bit and then you're cleaning the gymnasium, princess, you can go home when you're done.” Abby throws the ball in your direction and you shrug away from it, like it was contaminated and you didn't want to catch whatever disease it carried. “You know, if you actually participated in class instead of sitting there n’ look pretty, you wouldn't have to be here?”
“Oh, so you think I'm pretty?” A playful smile makes its way to your lips as you cross your arms.
“If anything, I think you're lazy and a distraction to the students.” She answers you, annoyed by your lack of care towards the class. “Get the ball and bring it to me.” You walk towards where the ball landed and grab it, making your way towards Abby.
“So, you think I'm a distraction because I'm pretty.” You stop in front of her, pushing the volleyball to her chest.
“I didn't say that. Now get into position and play me until you win.”
Abby walks to one left side of the court and you to the right; each of you stopping a couple feet away from each other. She serves the ball and you do your best to receive it, returning it to her as you messily position your hands closed together, making the ball go back to her side of the court. You two keep volleying the ball back and forth, Abby making multiple points while you had the total of zero.
“Okay, let's stop. You're way too bad at this.” The girl says after holding onto the ball for the last time you threw. You stretch your arms, tired from all the movement, legs sore from the running, body sweating under your P.E attire. “Grab the mop from the supply closet and get to work.”
You tiredly nod and follow her orders, just wanting to take a shower to go home. After cleaning the whole wooden floor of the gymnasium, you put the bucket and the mop back to their original place and you walk towards Abby, who's sitting at your previous spot on the bleachers.
“I'm done. Can I go now?” Your exhausted voice comes out as you stop in front of her and she looks up at your sweaty and worn out face.
“Yeah, just do whatever you need to do in the locker room so I can lock it and go home, too.” Abby says, standing up and you follow after her as she makes her way to said area.
“I'm gonna take a shower so, guess you'll just have to wait ‘till I’m done.” You begin to strip your shirt off in front of your locker once you two are inside and Abby sits down, her eyes locked on the ground.
“Just hurry up, I have things to do.”
After getting rid of your clothes you grab a towel and a liquid soap you have in your locker and make your way to the showers, sliding one of the curtains open as you get in closing it again. You turn the water to a hot temperature, taking your time to wash yourself up and let the water fall onto your sore muscles. As the minutes go by, Abby shouts out to you, warning you get out soon or she'll just leave you here. Almost thirty minutes go by and she’s had enough, standing up and walking towards your stall; she pulls the plastic curtain open and you gasp, covering your chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell and press yourself onto the cold walls as she reaches her hand inside, turning the water off. She grabs your shower from the hanger and shoves it in your direction.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you who needs to spend an eternity showering?! Go get dressed, now!” You wrap yourself in your soft towel and push her out of your way as you head back to your locker.
“You're such a bitch. You already ruined my friday night and now I can't even take a fucking shower.” You mumble and she stops next to you, watching as you drop your towel on the bench. Abby’s face turns red and her breath stops for a second, her eyes scan your naked body before she comes back to reality.
“Y-you ruined it your own by not doing anything at the easiest fucking class you have.” You turn to her as you roll the deodorant under your armpits. Her eyes fall to your chest, nipples poking out in all their glory. You talk back at her but she hears nothing, all her attention goes to the way your tits move as your breath in-and-out. You place your hygiene product back to your locker, eyes never leaving her face as hers never left your boobs.
“Are you fucking listening to me?!” You attempt to push her for the second time today, but she's faster and stronger, grabbing your hands as she backs you against the locker. A wave of lust makes its way through your veins, stopping right at your core. The sound of your body hitting against the metal echoes in the empty locker room as Abby diverts her attention to your lips. Her blue eyes seem devil-like as she looks at you – Her face displaying a hungry expression.
“I had enough of your bitchy comments today. Let me make something else come out of that pretty mouth, yeah?” Abby whispers, a raspy voice sounding like music to your ears as she gently rubs her nose against yours. You feel yourself getting wet, the between of your thighs getting more slippery with each passing second. You nod your head fast, needy eyes looking back to her.
Abby closes the small distance between your lips, smacking them together with fervor as she lets go of your hands and brings her own to the side of your face; thumbs pressed onto each side of your jaw as her palm and fingers gripped your neck. You kiss her back, licking and biting her bottom lip as you pull it back with your teeth. She chases your face back and her tongue invades your warm mouth; your hands go up, holding onto her wrists and she gently massages the pads of her thumbs onto your soft skin.
“Can I touch you, princess?” Abby asks, breaking the kiss as she looks at you.
“Yes, please do, Abs.” This time, you push her towards you by the neck, press another kiss onto her lips and her left hand goes down your leg, opening both of them apart as she places her thigh between them. Abby moans at the contact of your dripping wet pussy onto her uncovered skin, and you throw your head back as you feel yourself slipping onto her with ease.
As she holds one of your legs, guiding your movements, her other hand reaches your chest, going directly to your nipple. She spits on it and begins to flick it rapidly; you moan as you feel the immense pleasure run through all your body.
“Look at you, all wet n’ slippery for me. My pretty, bitchy princess.” Abby pecks your lips and moves her hand from your chest to your cunt, spreading your moist lips and exposing your needy clit to rub against her skin. You let out loud moans when she reaches to your waist, carving her nails deeply into you as she moves you more violently against her. She feels herself getting wet, too, and she knows that the way you sound and the way you feel will be enough to soon make her white panties sticky with her cum.
As your bud deliciously kneads while you move your hips, you suck the white freckled skin of her neck, causing the girl to close her eyes and bite her lips. You push her head back by her braid and you lick from the bottom of her Adam’s apple all the way up to her mouth; pressing your teeth there again, making Abby hiss and moan.
“I-I want–” You try to speak but your moans interrupt you when Abby takes one of your boobs into her mouth, sucking on it and licking around your sensitive nipple. She lets go of it for a second just to talk back to you.
“What does my princess want, hm?” She goes back to massaging your tit with her muscle, hands never faltering on your hips.
“I want, I want you to-to eat me out,” You blurb out fast, not waiting to wait any longer to feel her tongue circling around your clit. Her breath hitches at the request, saliva pooling in her mouth at the opportunity to taste you. Abby grabs you with ease and lays you down on the bench, ready to have a feast. She wraps her arms around your legs, placing each of them beside her head, making your back lift a little from the wood. You shiver as her hot breath hits against your exposed pussy. “Please, ju-just fuck me…”
Abby looks at you, a needy expression on your face as you stare down at her and she spits onto your throbbing bud; the liquid making its way down to your hole resulting in you throwing your head back and closing your eyes. Your legs tremble and she holds you still, finally diving in. She runs her tongue up your slick collecting the wetness before bringing it to your clit. Abby sucks on it while she circles her tongue with speed and precision; her body taking in the way you taste as your pleasure filled moans enter her ears, making her head fuzzy as she fucks you.
“Fuc-fuck Abs, so-so good…” You praise and it only fuels her more, taking two fingers to your pussy, she caresses your entry before shoving them in. You moan and whine, pressing her head impossibly closer to your pussy; her tongue working on your clit nonstop and her fingers pumping in-and-out of you at full speed. “M’ gonna cum so-soon,” You announce as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your limit, and unbeknown to you, Abby was getting closer, too. The thought of you creaming all over her mouth excited her, making her tongue swirl more frenetic over your clit as her fingers finally reached the soft spot deep inside you — The tips of her fingers pressing onto it made you finally brake, cumming over her face. As she felt your juices run down her chin, her orgasm hit her, too, and she slowly removed her fingers out of you; pressing one last kiss on top of your, now sensitive, bud.
“Fuck, princess,” Abby kisses your thighs as she lets your legs fall back down. “You taste so fucking good.” She kisses her way to your stomach, soon reaching your lips. “You were so good for me, baby.” You tiredly smile at her and she pecks your cheek before sitting back up and grabbing your towel from the bench. She softly presses the tower onto your cunt, cleaning you up as you quietly observe her.
“Are you gonna make me stay after school next week?” A shameless look appears on your face and Abby laughs.
“Oh, I just might.”
ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
x-18 banner by @fic-dumpster
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[Image description: A digital drawing of a character who is a fusion of several different Tumblr Sexymen. He is tall and thin, standing with his hand on his hip, with purple skin, cat ears, and a cat tail, Komaeda-esque wispy white hair, a permanent smile with sharp yellow teeth, and one blue-and-yellow eye with a black sclera. He has red dots on his cheeks and skeleton feet. He is wearing a navy-and-red train conductor cap; large glasses tinted pink on one lens and yellow on the other; a gray suitcoat that splits into two near the end, with a yellow pyramid pattern on the inside; green elbow-length gloves; pinstriped black-and-green pants that are cut at the mid-calf; a white dress shirt that is layered and trimmed with lavender at the bottom, with a thin brown belt visible; a lavender tie; and pink fluffy slippers. He also wears a yellow strap around his shoulder and torso, and has a fluffy pink truffula pin and a badge on his suit that looks like a blue clock. He is holding a red scepter with an eye pattern in the middle. The background is a pale peach-pink color. End ID]
i decided to revisit the idea i had several years ago of a tumblr sexyman fusion, a post that got pretty popular at the time, since there are now different sexymen who are popular and also the concept of tumblr sexyman has been built upon significantly.
this is a fusion of sans, the onceler, reigen, tony the talking clock (based on aishaneko’s classic humanization), bill cipher, raymond, ingo, spamton, purple guy, komaeda, and alastor. can u spot the design elements from each one?
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maybe it's just the Radical Rediker talking, but there's something pointed in the way that, say, popular pirate media like Pirates of the Caribbean dilutes the pirate's freedom to "bring me that horizon" as opposed to, say, "plenty and satiety, pleasure and ease, liberty and power" (Bartholomew Roberts).
broadly speaking, most pirates chose the life in order to escape and revenge the hard labour, corporal punishment, overworking, and unequal pay of merchant/navy/privateer ships; or the privations of their sudden unemployment once a war was over, ignored as soon as their ability to die for the state was unneeded. yes, many were thugs, but, consciously political or not, they were responding to a particular, material reality.
the pirate's desired freedom was from the effects of exploitative modes of statehood and capital production. but popular media usually shifts this into a general desire for freedom: freedom to roam, freedom to love (usually merely a cross-class white, heterosexual union), or freedom from the personal pressures of social norms. it's a vague, ahistorical, post-Enlightenment, libertarian ideal rather than a response to a real social and economic situation.
to be clear, this only really applies to specifically the late golden age of piracy, in the first quarter of the 18th century. earlier generations of pirates/buccaneers often displayed nationalist/religious motives, and were lauded, tolerated, or even encouraged by the French and English states for aiding their fights against the Spanish and Portuguese. only the last gasp of age of sail pirates had a truly anti-national energy, and both figured themselves, and were figured by the imperial powers, as the enemies of all nations.
but if we are to valourise the late golden age pirate, at his best, his ideals were for true democracy, and the abolition of nation, hierarchy, and labour exploitation; not "the horizon". he was striking out in response to specific political, social, and economic oppressions, rather than a general individual restlessness, and that reality - and its similarities to our own - are important.
I dunno, I just... have a lot of thoughts about the defanging of piracy in modern media. obviously there were a lot of things bad about them, too, and the level of egalitarianism varied between individual people and ships. but again, if we're going to be valourising them anyway... there were idealists. and they weren't subtle about they wanted.
"I shan't own myself guilty of any murder", said William Fly in 1726. "Our captain and his mate used us barbarously. We poor men can't have justice done us. There is nothing said to our commanders, let them never so much abuse us, and use us like dogs. But the poor sailors --"
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So this was originally a little ficlet i added to @gyroshrike's EXCELLENT angel dust fanart. You should check it out IMMEDIATELY. Anyway, I ended up writing it out into a proper fic so I could post it to ao3 here. and i thought i might as well make it its own tumblr post as well since the fic is done already. Enjoy!
“What do you mean no?” Cherri asks, annoyed. “This is the fifth fucking outfit you’ve shot down.”
Angel doesn’t know why he thought Cherri would be helpful on this shopping trip. He forgot that Cherri’s idea of fashion involves singed tops and torn up bottoms. He snatches the clothes from Cherri’s hands and throws them back on the rack.
“Ya keep pickin’ slutty clothes!” Angel replies, also annoyed.
“That’s because you are a slut, bitch.”
Angel gives her a two fingered salute because he’s fucking cultured. Cherri cackles and flips him off in return. Angel marches to the other end of the store to the rack full of boring colors like navy, gray, and black. They don’t go with his coloring at all. It’s the only rack left he hasn’t looked through in the entire store, though. Cherri follows behind him, purposely shoving racks and mannequins to make a mess as they go.
“Well, I ain’t tryin’ ta look slutty this time,” Angel says as he aggressively inspects the rack of clothing.
“Good luck getting that cat in bed after your date,” Cherri snorts.
“It’s a first date! Husk ain’t like that,” Angel says, feeling a bit offended on Husk’s behalf. “He’s a gentleman.”
“Yeah, the drunk arsehole is a total gentleman,” Cherri rolls her eye.
“He is about this kinda thing. He’s a classy guy, okay? So I’m givin’ classy a try,” Angel insists. He reaches the end of the rack with nothing to show for it. He growls. “Fuck this place, it ain’t got shit. Let’s go.”
“Fuck yes! About fucking time,” Cherri cheers.
After blowing off steam with Cherri, Angel sneaks back into the hotel. Not that he’d done anything wrong; he just doesn’t want to bump into Husker at the bar after the spectacular failure of a shopping trip. He’s stressed because he was running out of time to get an outfit together. He knows he gets catty under pressure. (Ha. Catty.) He doesn’t want to risk getting catty with Husker.
Once inside, Angel wanders the upper levels for a bit until he is absolutely sure that Charlie was nowhere around. He knows Charlie would be overjoyed to help but she's about as subtle as machine gunfire when she's happy. Angel wants his future upscale look to be a surprise for Husk.
Since Charlie can’t be considered, Angel is left with one last option. With extreme reluctance, he makes his way to Charlie’s room. He makes sure not to show anything but confidence and charm when he knocks on the door.
Vaggie opens it with a scowl.
“Angel. What do you want?” Vaggie asks in that flat yet annoyed tone she was so good at doing.
“Heyyy, Vaggie. Ya know that redemption thing Charlie always yaps about?” Angel starts. Vaggie’s scowl deepens, so Angel continues before she could say anything. “I was thinkin’ I should change up my look, so I ain’t so sexy and tempting. Looking like a prude is a virtue, ain’t it? You’re the biggest prude I know! Wanna help a fella out? For redemption and sh–uh, stuff?”
Angel bats his eyes at Vaggie, channeling his ‘I’m a sweet, naive virgin, please take advantage of me’ character. It’s a very popular character in his line of work. He is much better at that than at looking innocent but he figures it’s basically the same thing. Vaggie glares at him. Okay, slight miscalculation on Angel’s part, then.
“No,” she says, and tries to close the door. Angel catches it with two hands before it shuts completely.
“Wait!”
“I’m not helping you with whatever porno you’re doing,” Vaggie says.
“It ain’t for porn!” Angel says. He’s not exactly insulted that Vaggie assumed it was a porn thing, but he’s not not insulted either. He’s got a life outside of porn, sometimes!
Vaggie stares at him. It’s an expectant stare. It’s a stare that clearly says Angel has to give her a reason to not harpoon him with that spear she carries everywhere. (It’s also super judgemental but that doesn’t offend Angel since Vaggie looks at everyone except Charlie judgmentally).
A small jolt of embarrassment hits him. He wishes it was a porn thing now.
He doesn’t want to say it out loud, this tiny frail chance Husk gave him by asking him out. If he says it out loud, Vaggie will scoff. She’d roll her eyes and ask him why he’s even bothering to try. Does he really think anyone would seriously want to date a cokehead pornstar? This is a pipe dream and Husker will get fed up with him so fast.
(Vaggie wouldn’t say any of that, a part of Angel knows. Those were Valentino’s words, but he’s so sure that Vaggie must have thought it at least once. Everybody must think that about him at least once).
The longer he stays quiet the more Vaggie’s glare softens until she starts to look genuinely concerned. And, fuck, Angel can’t have that. He’d die (again) if Vaggie felt sorry enough to be nice to him. He pastes on his smile and keeps his tone girlfriend-ly.
“I got a hot date, Vaggie, that’s all,” Angel says. “Wanna try somethin’ a little different for it.”
Vaggie is not convinced by his nonchalance which makes Angel wonder if he’s losing his touch. His acting skills are second to none! She should be eating out of the palm of his hand with this performance! Instead, she marches out of the room and waves him along.
“Follow me,” Vaggie says in her drill sergeant voice that makes everyone who hears it straighten their spine and find themselves already halfway to a salute.
Angel learns that Vaggie approaches clothes shopping with the same tactical focus and determination she approaches any mission, which is weird but whatever. She stealthily leads him to the nicer side of town into a more upscale shop than Angel is used to. She marches through the shop without bothering to ask Angel for his input on anything. Still she manages to pick out a few outfits that went well with his coloring and in his size. Angel has never appreciated her observational skills more.
“Try these on and show me,” she demands, piling her pickings into both sets of Angel’s arms and shoving him into a dressing room.
Angel complies without protest. He sashays out of the dressing room like a supermodel four times before Vaggie nods in satisfaction on the last option. She actually smiles at him.
“This one. You’ll impress your date with this one,” Vaggie says without a hint of irony.
Angel smiles back and thanks her enthusiastically. He ignores how he hadn’t recognized himself in the mirror in any of the outfits. He ignores how uncomfortable the clothes feel on his body. The clothes are classy, just like Husker prefers. That’s what matters.
–
When Husker shows up at his door for their date, he does a double take.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Husk asks, confused.
Angel starts to lean flirtatiously into his space, a salacious come on right on the tip of his tongue. He catches himself halfway and quickly straightens himself with an awkward laugh.
“Just somethin’ I found in the back of the closet,” he lies through his teeth.
He’d devoted time to doing his makeup just right and making sure the clothes were crisp and clean. He still feels uncomfortable in them but all things considered, Angel thinks the final product came out pretty good. The way Husker looks at him now makes him wonder if he overestimated his looks for once.
Husk’s eyes narrow as he studies Angel. His gaze trails Angel top to bottom. It doesn’t feel very sexy but Angel supposes the point is to not look like a whore so this means he succeeded, right?
“Sure,” Husk says, notes of confusion still in his tone. “You ready to go?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course!” Angel stutters like a moron.
“Alright,” Husker says after a beat.
Husk gives Angel another suspicious look, shoulders tense and wings pulled close. Something shifts in his expression that Angel can’t read. He’s afraid it might be disappointment. Husker shakes out his wings and offers Angel his arm, which Angel accepts with relief.
“So, where ya takin’ me, Huskie?”
Husker tells him about a little place with good food, better drinks, and a live jazz band. As they walk out of the hotel, Angel almost cozies up against Husk, so tempted to rub his cheek against Husker’s furry ear. He catches himself again and over-corrects by pulling away from Husk until their linked arms are the only point of contact. Husk stumbles a bit with the weight shift. He shoots him another indecipherable look. Husker opens his mouth to say something but appears to change his mind and snaps it shut.
That’s okay, though, right? Husker wasn’t much of a talker anyway! Angel fills the silence between them with nervous babble. Angel is normally very good at conversation but tonight he keeps having to stop and restart mid-sentence when his stories get crass. Being crass is not good first date behavior. Husker grunts every now and then but it’s clear he’s only listening with half an ear. It doesn’t help Angel’s nerves at all.
The date goes downhill from there.
Husker finds them a booth when they arrive at their destination and helps Angel order their food and drinks. He points out several he thinks Angel will like.
Usually, he and Husker can pound back alcohol like nobody’s business. They sometimes make a game of it and those nights are some of the best Angel has because he gets to see Husker soften and relax in his company. However, Angel is an affectionate drunk and Husk has had to nudge Angel away more than once those nights. Husker is always sweet about it now, with gentle hands and amusement in his eyes. Husker always helps him back to his room afterwards like a perfect gentlemanly escort. Despite that, Angel can’t help feeling a bit stung at the rejection each time.
Tonight, he only orders one drink. He knows he can’t be getting too handsy with Husk on their date. He’s sure it would annoy him. He doesn’t want Husker to regret asking him out. With his focus strictly on keeping up his good behavior and watching his alcohol intake, Angel barely touches the food Husker recommended to him.
Husker keeps shooting him these looks that make Angel anxious. With each glance, Husker slinks deeper into his taciturn demeanor. Of course, Angel overcompensates with his babbling. At one point, Husk has to shush him during the jazz show. Angel clacks his jaws shut in shame, because he knows how much Husker likes jazz and here he is ruining the experience for him. At least Husk is nice enough to hold Angel’s hands throughout the rest of the show, though he probably only does it to keep Angel from fidgeting too much.
When they leave the joint, Husker doesn’t offer his arm again. He doesn’t even walk very close to him. Angel's stomach churns so much, he’s afraid if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll puke the two bites of food he ate earlier.
They’re halfway back to the hotel when Husk clears his throat. His hands are in his pockets as he trudges on, keeping his eyes on the crumbling sidewalk.
“You didn’t have to say yes,” Husk says, not even glancing at Angel or faltering in his steps as he speaks. Angel, on the other hand, halts in confusion.
“What?” Angel asks, not sure what Husker was talking about but the tone of voice made his stomach drop. Husk sighs, stopping in his tracks to finally look up at Angel. His face was closed off in his standard apathetic frown.
“When I asked you out,” Husker says, his tone going to his usual bored gruffness. He hasn’t used that tone towards Angel in a long time. Hints of panic start crawling up Angel’s veins. “You didn’t have to say yes.”
“What?” Angel asks again like a fucking idiot. He hopes he doesn’t sound as shaky and pathetic as he feels.
Husker’s voice goes flatter though his tail has started to twitch uneasily.
“You should’ve said no if you didn’t want to…be with me. We woulda been fine.”
“Huskie–”
And at last some of that soft, hidden sincerity crept back into Husker’s voice. Only a little bit, but it’s there.
“I’d still be your friend, Legs,” Husker says, gazing into Angel’s eyes and sounding painfully honest. “I wouldn’t abandon you over that.”
“No! I-I–”
Husker looks away with a bitter grin. Angel’s heart cracked at the sight.
“I’d need a day or two to lick my wounds, but I knew it was a long shot anyway. I woulda come back,” Husker shrugs when he finishes going for nonchalance, but his wings are once again curled protective and close, making his usual slouch look less like carelessness and more like defeat. Husker doesn’t wait for Angel’s response, instead choosing to continue walking back to the hotel.
Angel stands in place, floored by how badly he fucked up. He notices his breathing becoming erratic. He does his best to do the calming breathing thing Charlie taught them all. It works well enough to get him running to Husker again though Angel still feels unsteady and insecure. Most of him is screaming to fucking book it in the other direction because fuck, fuck, Angel hates feelings. But Husker also hates feelings and he basically threw up his guts at Angel despite it. The least Angel can do is return the gesture, right? He owes Husker that much.
“Husker, wait!” he shouts.
Husker’s posture becomes more guarded but he doesn’t acknowledge Angel’s call. Angel catches up quickly (Husk can’t go too far too fast with those short legs, Angel thinks, helplessly fond despite the anxiety). Dodging around Husker’s wings that quiver with tension, Angel grabs the crook of his arm to bring him to a stop and place himself in Husk’s way. He lets go quickly at Husk’s glare but somehow manages to stand his ground.
“I did want! Husk, I wanted ta say yes, I wanted ta go on this date so much,” Angel says desperately, feeling a telltale burning around his eyes and hating himself for it.
The tension in Husker’s body breaks free as his patience caves to his temper. His wings flare open and his tail whips side to side aggressively.
“Then why are you acting so fucking fake? With the clothes and you treating me like I got the fucking plague! I thought we were done with that bullshit,” Husker snaps furiously.
“Cuz I wanted ta…I wanted ta be good for ya, Husk,” Angel chokes out, shoulders slumped in defeat. “You like classy. I wanted ta be a good, classy sorta guy for ya. I-I fucked up. I always fuck this shit up. I don’t mean ta do it.”
Angel stares at the poor excuse of a sidewalk they’re on, blinking back tears. Husker doesn’t say anything for a long time. Angel nearly loses his nerve and turns tail when Husker speaks again.
“You fucking dumbass,” Husk says.
His voice is deep and warm and fond, the way it is on their drinking nights together. Angel’s head snaps to Husk at his words. That cocky little smirk– the one Angel first saw after Husk had pulled him out of his self-destructive spiral at the club and realized that if he wasn't careful he'd lose his heart to the guy–has replaced the angry slant of Husk’s mouth.
“Hey!” Angel protests with a cautious smile. Husk rolls his eyes.
“Don’t expect compliments if you’re gonna act stupid,” Husk says and offers his arm to Angel. “You’re already classy enough for me, Legs.”
Angel takes his arm and looks down at him slyly.
“But not good, huh?” Angel tries to tease but Husker doesn’t take it.
Instead, Husk looks at him intensely and says firmly, “If this redemption shit the princess keeps talking about ain’t total bullshit, you’d be the one to make it.”
“Oh,” Angel says, stunned, then adds to cover how hard it made his heart beat, “Husker, ya big ol’ flirt. I betcha say that ta all the pretty boys.”
“Fuck you,” Husk grins at him. Angel bats his eyes and lets his voice go all breathy.
“Oh, yes! Please, daddy,” Angel simpers. He adds a loud moan for good measure. Husker throws his head back with a rough, loud laugh. Angel knows immediately he wants to hear it again forever.
By the time Husk drops Angel off at the door of his room, the pair of them have relaxed significantly. Angel opens the door slightly to peek in on Fat Nuggets. After he makes sure his Nugs is sleeping soundly, Angel catches Husk’s sleeve before he could make a sneaky escape.
“Hey, Husk, can we get a do-over? A new first date? I want ta do it right next time.” Angel asks shyly. The corner of Husk’s mouth quirks up, making his golden eyes crinkle in a way that makes Angel’s heart melt.
“Depends,” Husker says with that charming smirk. “You gonna wear that stupid outfit next time?”
“Oh baby,” Angel says, plastering himself against the door frame in one of his sexiest poses. “I’m gonna wear my sluttiest dress for my handsome kitty. Everyone’s gonna wish they were you when they see us togetha.”
Husk snorts.
“When you put it like that…”
“You can put it wherever ya want, daddy,” Angel flirts. He’s only half-joking but he keeps his hands to himself to keep things light. Husker rolls his eyes in good humor.
“A do-over sounds good.”
Angel drops the pose instantly, beaming at Husk.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Angel’s heart flutters at the small smile that accompanies Husk’s assurance.
“Next week?”
Husker nods in agreement.
“Great!” Angel said, probably a little too enthusiastically.
Before Angel canlose his nerve, he dips down and presses a light, meek kiss on Husker’s cheek. When he pulls back, Husker’s eyes are as wide as saucers and his wings have puffed up in a way Angel hadn’t seen before. If Angel didn’t know any better, he’d say Husker was downright flustered. And oh god, Angel wanted to make him blush all over. Husker would be so cute in bed.
“G‘night, Huskie!” Angel says quickly and slams the door closed behind him.
After nearly tearing himself out of the uncomfortable clothes, Angel crawls into bed wearing only his boxer briefs. Next time, he thinks to himself in joy and disbelief. I get a next time.
He knows it will be perfect because next time he’ll be himself. Angel. Because that’s all Husker wanted. Just Angel.
He curls up around Fat Nuggets and allows himself one quiet, happy squeal.
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does adult mav canonically have pre braces TC teeth or did sometime during the early 00s maverick mitchell wear adult braces
some thoughts
1. my knee-jerk reaction was characters are not their actors so who cares let mav’s teeth be whatever you want
2. But engaging w/ this honestly i see a couple possibilities
3. possibility A is that yes mav has fucked crazy bigass teeth (see my post on ice calling him “Peter rabbit” for more on this)
4. possibility B is that part of trying to reinvent himself during their brief divorce era (post pulling rooster’s papers ca. 2002-2005) was getting adult braces and the like 4 times ice saw him during that period he was just so bewildered he didn’t think to comment on it at all
5. (can navy fighter pilots have braces?? i feel like it would immediately obviate any call sign you had and everyone regardless of rank would immediately start calling you “brace face” and that’s what they’d stencil on the side of your f-18 or w/e… Pete “brace face” Mitchell! honor is everything im not sure mav would tolerate that! you lose a LOT of social capital when you have braces as an adult unless you’re actually tom cruise! which mav is not!)
6. Possibility C mav got invisalign circa 2015 when it really started getting popular and had his retainers in during the TGM mission cause why not. that’s funny. you cannot lose a SINGLE day with Invisalign or it sets you back so much. even if you have a suicidal navy mission to drop bombs on a sovereign country ... still gotta wear your Invisalign dumbass
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Some of my Obey Me headcanons
Solomon purposely puts something in the food that tastes bad to angels and demons just to fuck with them.
Diavolo tripped walking up the stairs with Lucifer and made Barbatos change the timeline so Lucifer wouldn't remember.
He doesn't know that Satan also saw.
Barbatos only change the timeline so Lucifer forgot.
Satan still remembers and will randomly start laughing about it during council meetings.
Barbatos knows Satan saw and specifically chose a timeline he remembered.
Mammon paints his own nails but makes Asmo take credit for it.
Lucifer lost a game of chess to Solomon and refuses to play him again because he's adamant Solomon cheated. He didn't.
Beel has a man bun and it looks great on him.
MC used to print pictures out of the brothers and slide them under the attic door to make Belphie feel better.
Levi can't spell lieutenant so there's no lieutenants in Hell's navy
Levi has a fake Devilgram account that's more popular than Asmo's
The brothers have a list of words Lucifer has mispronounced and will say them around him in fake English accents
The first time Beel had cupcakes he didn't realize you weren't supposed to eat the liner.
He thought Barbatos just made a bad dessert.
He didn't want to make him feel bad so he ate them anyways.
Diavolo doesn't know what the average price of things are (kind of like Mephistopheles, but acts like he knows).
The brothers and MC have a running bet of when Diavolo will find out they've been making up prices for things.
Belphie once posted something calling humans stupid and MC found a screenshot and will comment it whenever he says/does something stupid.
Whenever Satan breaks something in a rage he puts it back and waits until Mammon is near it to bring attention to it so he doesn't get blamed.
Whenever Mammon takes a test with math, there's a Grimm symbol next to every number.
Asmo goes to every convention with Levi. He pretends it's because he can dress up in cute outfits but really it's because he can pretend to be someone else and feels valued for something besides his looks.
Belphie can't read analog clocks.
Satan makes things up about the human realm and tells them to Diavolo, who then tries to act cool in front of MC
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thoughts on Zhao ? are u as shocked as I am that Iroh never ended up killing him with his own bare hands ? do u think he was bummed he never got to ?
HONESTLY?!!!!! we have a complicated relationship. i really like zhao as a villain and i say that so very honestly. i think people make him out to be a lot stupider than he really is but at the same time he really is stupid in the way that evil men are always stupid. i think hes extremely despicable and hideously vain and his vanity clouds his judgement and causes him to make rash decisions.
this is all stuff we know about him already though its just that somehow that makes him come off as less scary to fans somehow?? but theres nothing scarier than a big loud man with a temper when youre a teenager with trauma from a dad like ozai. that agitation he so easily draws out of zuko is familiar to me.
i think that the way he makes himself seem SOOO above zuko while simultaneously licking ozais boots to get more power makes him even more ridiculous. and in an ironic way yeah because of all that i think hes a moron but unironically no i dont think hes stupid at all. it doesnt take a stupid man to work your way through the viper nest thats the fire nation high court. i dont think it takes an idiot to find wan shi tongs library and somehow manage to slither back out alive despite clearly lying to wan shi tongs face under his own roof. i dont think it takes an idiot to deduce who the blue spirit is. however it DOES take an idiot to think that killing the moon spirit to be rid of waterbenders when you come from a literal island nation in the tropics and your military relies heavily on its navy and you LITERALLY are using an armada to launch this grand attack
but then however comma yeah i do honestly agree with the popular vote that him going out of his way to harass and intimidate zuko is very slimy and strange and based on zukos immediate attempt at evading him this is something that has been going on for a While and the fact that iroh didnt notice or whatever really bothered me. Maybe its just because im an older sibling and i take that shit serious whenever kids are discomforted in the presence of specific adults (specific Men really) but whatever. i honestly doubt bryke wrote zhao with #that kind of weirdness in mind but that doesnt change the fact that hes a slimeball and iroh shouldve mollywhopped him right in his fat forehead. thats just what i personally wouldve done though like idk. like he is definitely the kind of adult i would keep a specific eye on because bitch!!!! hes just very unusual as hell and when youre a guardian looking after a kid then you need to keep an eye out for shit like that seriously
(one day ill make a post discussing how much more at ease zuko is in the presence of only women btw. One Day.)
and yes i DO wish that we got a missing scene or whatever with iroh and zuko after zhao Literally blew zuko and his whole ship and everything he owns up. like do you know how infuriating that is. waited until iroh and the crew were down the road to get zuko alone in his fucking pjs. a whole group of grown ass pirates doing all that with bombs for revenge over one bratty 16 yr old. i DO wish we saw some of irohs rage during the siege bleed back and forth from "anger over the moon spirit being killed" and "anger over you also nearly killing my fucking nephew" just as well anon.
and the fact that zhaos ambitions were centered on making himself more powerful and admired and he was doing literally everything to get zuko out of the way to make that happen when zukos reasons for capturing aang were so much more desperate and sad (not that that makes it ok but yall know what i mean). Like its just sooo aggravating and thats when i stop caring about how cool Zhao The Conqueror is as a villain and when i start wanting to pummel him with a cartoonishly large hammer
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TOP 5 MUST HAVE Sims 4 Career Mods
These are my most personal Career mods for the sims 4, please don't forget to show love and support to the creators.
1- Youtube Career Mod by itsmeTroiYT
There is so many interactions with this mod it is unbelievable! If you head to the download button below it will bring you to the creator's post which will show all the type of things you can do with this mod but for now to keep the Tumblr photo limit here is some of the creator's notes that explain the levels and the branches
Gamer (6-10)
PC Noob $100/hr
Streamer $200/hr
Daily Uploader $300/hr
Tagline Genius $600/hr
Prestige Gamer $1500/hr
Vlogger (6-10)
Viner $100/hr
Prank Wars Vlogger $200/hr
Unbox Therapy $300/hr
Vlogger $600/hr
Daily Vlogger $1600/hr
DIY
Hot Glue Gun Mess $250/hr
Creative Weirdo $350/hr
Hacks Master $600/hr
DIY Superstar $650/hr
[Something] DIY $1500/hr
MUA
Fenty Beauty Counter Rep $200/hr
Brand Tester $300/hr
Makeup Brand Collab $350/hr
Personal Makeup Artist $750/hr
MUA $1500/hr
Cooking
One Pan Cook $150/hr
Made from TV/Movies $300/hr
Remixed Recipe Cook $345/hr
Guest Host Cook $625/hr
Master Cook $1500/hr
FX Makeup Artist
NYX Face Awards $120/hr
Halloween Royalty $200/hr
FX on a Budget $350/hr
Workshop Personality $645/hr
Glam & Gore $1450/hr
download
2- Modeling Career Mod by KPC0528
This is an amazing mod! If you want your sim to become a model this is the mod for you! This does require the City living & Get Famous expansion packs, so be aware. Here are the creator's notes about the levels and branches;
1. Volunteer Model--there is no pay for the beginning of this career. I wanted to make it as realistic as possible, so level 1 is all about building a portfolio and gaining exposure.
Mood: Confident
M - W - F S S
2. Local Model -- Your sim will be part of the "mall crowd" participating in local fashion shows. These jobs aren't very selective...
$15/hr.
Skills: Charisma 1
Mood: Confident
- T - T F S S
3. Hand Model-- Keep those hands soft and supple as your sims model rings, bracelets, and watches for local jewelry designers!
$18/hr.
Skills: Charisma 2
Mood: Confident
- T - T F S S
4. Hair Model-- Cutting, coloring, styling. Your Sims's hair will be put through it all in exchange for some simoleons and their pictures to be featured in hair dressers' portfolios.
$20/hr.
Skills: Charisma 3, Fitness 3
Mood: Confident
- T - T F S S
Choose track: Commercial Model or High Fashion Model
Commercial Model track:
Commercial models are the models you would see in shopping catalogs and local commercials. The sim-next-door look is desired, so your sim will need attractive looks as well as an attractive personality to do well in this career track.
5. Commercial Catalog Model--Your sim will be showcasing the newest collections by the most popular stores, like Sim Navy and JC Simmy.
$50/hr.
Skills: Charisma 4, Fitness 4
Mood: Confident
M T W - F S -
6. Fitness Model-- Fitness is the name of the game here. Your sim must continue to sculpt his/her body to perfection in order to sell the newest workout gear and sports drinks.
$65/hr.
Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 7
Mood: Energetic
M T W T - S -
7. Social Media Model-- Your sim's face is getting popular online! He/she will be modeling the hottest makeup, jewelry, and clothing through various social media platforms like Simstagram.
$80/hr.
Skills: Charisma 7
Mood: Confident
- - W - F S S
8. Music Video Model-- Who wouldn't want to be a model in a famous music video? Your sim must hone in their dance skills so they don't embarrass themselves in front of the musical superstars....
$90/hr.
Skills: Charisma 8, Dancing 3
Mood: Confident
M T - T F S -
9. Television Model-- Television! Your sim will be featured on all sorts of commercials, from clothing and perfume, to cookware and living room furniture. $130/hr.
Skills: Charisma 10
Mood: Confident
M T W - F S -
10. Coversim-- The ultimate goal! Your sim is on every grocery store magazine rack, dishing the newest gossip about his/her love life, as well as modeling the hippest designs. Congrats, superstar!
$300/hr.
Mood: Confident
M T W - F S -
High Fashion Model track:
This track is for the serious fashionista. In order to gain celebrity as a high fashion model, your sim must be both gorgeous and interesting, as well as charismatic and athletic. Reaching the end of this track means worldwide fame and luxury!
5. Swimsuit Model-- Swimsuit models are photographed even in the winter months, so this isn't just for fun! Your sim must be in excellent shape to make it as a swimsuit model.
$55/hr.
Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 6
Mood: Flirty
M T W - F S -
6. Lingerie Model-- No room for shy sims here! Upscale lingerie is a mega-money-making business, so only the most alluring sims will be successful.
$75/hr.
Skills: Charisma 6, Fitness 8
Mood: Flirty
M T W - F S -
7. Fashion Catalog Model-- High-end fashion is extremely expensive, so the stakes are high. Your sim must continue to perfect his/her body and personality in order to sell these interesting-looking clothes in the highest end fashion magazines.
$90/hr.
Skills: Charisma 7, Fitness 9
Mood: Confident
M T - T F S -
8. Runway Model--Don't trip! All eyes are on your sim as he/she struts their stuff on the catwalk. Sims watching and cameras flashing can be nerve-wracking for even the most confident sim, but this is a necessary step in order to become a supermodel.
$120/hr.
Skills: Charisma 8, Fitness 10
Mood: Confident
- T W - F S S
9. Editorial Model--Sim Vogue. Your sim is on the cover, looking fierce as fierce can be! Your sim is the epitome of a style icon, and everyone is looking at him/her for style inspiration.
$300/hr.
Skills: Charisma 10
Mood: Confident
M T W - F S -
10. International Supermodel--Traveling the world for fashion shows? Check. Hosting reality style shows? Check. Getting paid to be famous? Check. Your sim is THE top model, as long as a newer, hotter thing doesn't come around.
$450/hr.
Mood: Confident
M - W - - S -
download
3- Social Services Career Mod by missmani09
This is a great mod if your interested in having your sim work in social services for a backstory or maybe its just what you mapped out they would be in your head. Here are some of the creator's notes about this mod;
Social Serivices:
1) Clerical Staff Extra Help
-Responsible for copying and filing documents, sorting documents
2) Administrative Specialist I
-answer phones, answer client's questions, file, sort
3) Administrative Specialist II
-Key application, answer telephones, work front desk window
correspond emails
4) Administrative Specialist Supervisor
Supervise all clerical staff ensure front desk runs smoothly
ensure applications are keyed correctly
ensure office machinery is working properly
assign staff job duties
------------------------------------------------------------
---(AA) ---- Division of Sim County Operations -------
----------------------------------------------------------
5A) Program Eligibilty Specialist I
- SNAP Process Sim food stamp program applications.
Interview & verify resources
Assist homeless sims
Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program
6A) Program Eligbiliy Specialist II
Process sim program applications
Determine eligibilty for Sim daycare voucher applications
Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program
7A) Family Health Care Case Manager
-Family Medicaid
Process Sims' medicaid applications.
Determine medical coverage eligibilty for Sims including
Working Sims' medical coverage, SimKids Care A or SimKids Care B
8A) Aged Sim Health Care Case Manager
Process Aged, Retired, and Disabled elder sims' medicare applications
Determine disability
9A) Sim Social Services County Administrator
oversee especific sim world in which sim currently lives
10A) Sim Social Services National Director
oversee all sim worlds
----------------------------------------------------------------
---(BB) Division of Child Protective Services
--------------------------------------------------------------
job is to protect and ensure the health, safety, and well being off all sim children.
5B) Child Protective Service Worker
Visit homes. Provide struggling parents with resources and tools
to become effective parents. Remove children from home if necessary to the
childs health & safety
6B) Child Abuse&Neglect Investigator
visit homes. on call rotation
investigate suspected sim child neglect/abuse that comes into the hotline
issue warnings to parent's who a nearing neglectful standards
Remove children from home if necessary to the
childs health & safety
7B) Foster Care Case Manager
On call rotation. Manage Sim children's cases who have been removed
from their home due to neglect/abuse. write extensive case notes
8B) Adoption Specialist
process adoption applications. match waiting foster children and
place into adoptive home
9B) Sim County CPS Supervisor
Oversee foster care and CPS case managers
10B) Sim CPS National Director
download
4- Psychologist Career mod by Kittyblue
This is career mod is actually my favorite for storytelling! In this mod there are two branches which are Counseling Psychology and Forensic Psychologist.
download
5- Tattoo Artist Career mod by MesmericSimmer
I love this one so much, mainly because I want one of my sim's backstory to include this career. They have this career option for both adults and teens!
download & more info
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masterlist ଘ♡𓏲﹒ॱ˖ ﹆
this is my new & improved masterlist page! links to my works will be posted on here as well as fic recommendations <3.
i really suck at summaries so whatever i put down as the little summary is not the entirety of it
♡ = fluff | ☹︎ = angst / no comfort | ✧ = comfort | ♢ = suggestive content | ♠︎ = other | ❦ = requested | ❀ = popular
here are my rules / my request info page! <3 (requests are closed!)
AVATAR (first film)
— none!
AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER
Neteyam
Imagines:
secret — ☹︎ | ♢
neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ neteyam had a forbidden relationship with human!reader. but once he announces to the reader that is he arranged to be mated to another, their relationship comes to its inevitable end.
to the ends of pandora — ♡ | ☹︎ | ✧ | ❦
neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ alternative ending / part two of the fic above! after months of being separated and ending on less than good terms, reader and neteyam are finally reunited.
this weight on my shoulders
she is mine + part two — ☹︎ | ♡ | ✧ | ♠︎
neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader ➡︎ reader is with lo’ak and the rest of the sully children when they get caught by quaritch and his team. can neteyam make it in time to save reader?
this time, let me take care of you — ✧ | ♡ | ❦
neteyam x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader is not happy with neteyam continuously putting himself on the line for his younger brother. she tends to his wounds while trying her best to be understanding.
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
neteyam & human!reader as besties! — ❦
Lo’ak
Imagines:
deja vu + part two — ☹︎ | ✧
lo’ak x fem!tawkami!reader ➡︎ instead of seeking refuge within the metkayina clan, jake and his family seek it in the tawkami clan. due to this, it causes detrimental loss to the tawkami people and the potential downfall of lo’ak and reader’s relationship.
closure — ☹︎
lo’ak x sibling!reader ➡︎ following the death of reader, lo’ak finally visits the metkayina spirit tree and begins his journey of healing after a well needed trip down memory lane.
i believe you — ✧ | ♡ | ☹︎ | ❦
lo’ak x fem!older sister!reader ➡︎ after receiving a scolding from his parents about payakan, lo’ak is nowhere to be found. but no worries, reader always finds her littler brother and makes him feel better.
take me with her + part two — ☹︎ | ❀ | ♢ | ✧ | ♡ | ♠︎
lo’ak x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader is taken along with spider by quaritch and his team. will lo’ak be able to get back his love? or will the time apart and their differences tear what they had apart?
from me to you
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
fem!navi!reader being lo’ak’s mother!
Kiri
Imagines:
feels like we buried alive something that never died
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
none!
Tuk (strictly platonic/familial)
Imagines:
time has moved forward but you’re still the same
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
none!
Ao’nung
Imagines:
forever + part two + part three + part four — ☹︎ | ♡ | ♢ | ✧
ao’nung x fem!sully!reader ➡︎ when lo’ak catches reader and ao’nung cuddled up together one night, he expresses his distaste towards their relationship and nearly ruins his relationship with his twin sister. will lo’ak and reader be able to make up or will this put a dent in their bond forever?
hard for — ♢ | ✧ | ♡
ao’nung x fem!sully!reader ➡︎ upon hearing a rumor about ao’nung one night when reader is out with tsireya and kiri, she confronts her boyfriend about his true intentions with her.
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play (modern au!)
Jake Sully
Imagines:
a lesson in pinky promises — ☹︎ | ✧ | ♡ | ❦
jake sully x fem!daughter!reader ➡︎ being the eldest sully child isn’t easy and the other clan kids make sure you know of your “alien blood” nearly every day. what happens when, after a bad beating, jake finds reader crying and trying to bandage herself up?
soft heart
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
none!
Neytiri
Imagines:
none!
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
none!
Sully Family (familial/platonic)
Imagines:
can only hope — ☹︎
sully family x familial!reader ➡︎ instead of neteyam dying, it is reader who takes his place.
the sea gives & the sea takes — ☹︎
sully family x familial!reader ➡︎ it’s time for the sully family to say goodbye to their eldest child in respects of the metkayina way.
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
sports i think the sully children would do (modern!au)
Spider Socorro
Imagines:
a kiss, perhaps — ♡
spider socorro x fem!human!reader ➡︎ reader has explored every inch of the forest she called home. well, nearly every inch. spider knows that she hasn’t visited this one spot yet and plans to take her there as a surprise.
stay away from her
Blurbs:
none!
Canons:
sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play (modern au!)
Fic Recommendations! <3
ATWOW:
Neteyam
anything by @teyamsatan !! she’s literally such a good writer & her works hit every time istg. more specifically tho, her cardigan saga/series. that shit fucked me up but also healed me & made me giggle + kick my feet at the same time. worth the read 100%
Dad!Jake
anything & everything by @peacelovepandora . love their works!! (night hunters is the first fic i read of theirs & it holds a special place in my heart 🥹)
+ more to be added as i’m revamping my page!
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Another thought about top gun and TikTok I have is that Jake is definitely like a minor TikTok celebrity, he’s just very popular, and I’ll give you the reasons
He’s hot; literally the easiest way to trap people, they fall for his pretty eyes and his smile and his body and his ti—
He’s funny; sure, he’s an asshole, but he’s funny, and sometimes he doesn’t even need to rely on being an asshole to be funny, he just is
He’s gay; the easiest way to trap queer people, when queer people see another queer person they instantly follow them, it’s an instinct, they saw him and they followed the gay
He’s in the navy; he talks about it a lot, military nerds love it
He posts a lot about Bradley; people love Bradley, he’s just the boyfriend, just some guy, he’s like a mysterious side character in Jake’s TikTok cause he doesn’t have TikTok and Jake posts dumb shit about him all the time, Bradley being weird, Bradley being hot, Bradley being cute. People. Love. Bradley.
He’s got range, he checks many boxes in many different places, so yeah he’s mildly famous on TikTok
His most viewed and liked video is one of Bradley looking down at his mustache and moving it around and then laughing silently to himself
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𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 '𝐆𝐚𝐳' 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤
ISFP
Gryffindor
Chaotic Good
Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Cancer Rising
The fact that Kyle Garrick doesn't have as much popularity as some of the other characters in the Call of Duty world. is sinful. It's blasphemy.
Look, at first I was one of those people who didn't like Gaz as much as the rest of the Task Force, but now, NOW, I see him as such a valuable member. This is my formal apology to thy beautiful god of a man, Gaz.
And also a post so those that say, 'they don't know anything about Gaz so they cannot include him' - well here's your info babes!
"𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉?"
— 𝖪𝗒𝗅𝖾 𝖦𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄
Alias(es)
Sabre 2-6
Bravo 0-5
Bravo 2-6
Bravo 6-2
Bravo 6-1
Gaz
Nationality: British
Rank: Sergeant
Sergeant is a senior role of responsibility, promotion to which typically takes place after 12 years of service, depending on ability. Sergeants typically are second in command of a troop or platoon of up to 35 soldiers, with the important responsibility for advising and assisting junior officers.
Birth: 1993
However, he is older than Soap.
Hair: Black
Eyes: Brown
Kyle Garrick enlisted in the British Army in 2008, serving in the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, spending four years participating in test flights, jump competition and marksmanship before passing selection for Her Majesty's elite Special Air Service (SAS), where he is currently serving as a Sergeant for his sixth year.
Tasked to Northern Ireland, Bosnia, Turkey, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. Garrick has spent the better part of his career hunting terrorist fighters.
Kyle earned the U.S. Marine Corps Gold Parachute Wings at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina whilst on an exchange attachment and routinely cross-loads on operations with the SAS' American counterparts, the Navy SEALs.
Required to undergo resistance to interrogation (RTI) testing, Kyle was the only candidate in his class to escape the facility and evade capture.
Routinely subjected to physically and mentally uncomfortable scenarios, Kyle prides himself on high tolerance and tactical awareness.
Sergeant Garrick was awarded the Queen's Gallantry Medal and the General Service Medal for both covert and overt counter-terrorism operations in the Middle East, disrupting opium supply lines and poppy production, a major source of terrorist financing.
With expertise in prime target elimination, demolitions, weapons tactics, covert surveillance and VIP protection, Kyle currently serves on the SAS domestic counter-terror program, executing homefield missions with metropolitan police forces on European soil.
Challenging duty, due to civilian and collateral damage issues, Kyle seeks the opportunity to serve abroad again, and make a real difference combating the threat of terror.
Quotes
" Fuck off, shit pouch."
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place sir."
"They sent us in half assed, so everyone can just keep pretending we're not at war."
"I'm not dead, Nik. I'm hanging from a bloody rope!"
Personality
Very rarely does Kyle demand attention. He's observant problem-solving and bases his decisions on his instincts and values, and focuses on enjoying the present.
However, with the line of work he's in. Kyle has had to change the way he reacts to things. One really obvious scene between him and Cpt Price shows how this job is changing Kyle e.g,. Price’s quote about bloodying your hands after taking the gloves off.
Even so, I do think he's the most gentle of the four men, the kindest - almost like he's clung to his humanity with everything he's got.
sources: @mockerycrow. callofdutyfandom.com.
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Why Me? - Part 4
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)
Warnings: Cursing, insecurities, pining, mommy/daddy issues, throw up, little bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy, dirty jokes, mentions of death, mentions of being drunk/drinking
Word Count: 6892
Summary: The next morning commences after Bob sleeps over. You tell him things you never thought you'd talk to anyone about, and you both get to know each other a little better.
A/N: I realize now I have no posting schedule, I just post when it's done, so sorry 'bout that! Things are starting to pick up and I cannot wait to get to the next couple of parts, enjoy! And as always, love to know what you think!
Masterlist
Contrary to popular belief, you are actually a very level-headed individual. You made it through the academy and multiple deployments, often as the only woman in your squadron. You pushed back when people tried to knock you down, and you were able to do it by yourself. You didn’t need to call your dad for backup, he often didn’t know just how much shit you had to sit with just because you held his last name. It wasn’t just the Navy that held you in suspicion because of this. Your own flesh and blood held some animosity toward you. You often heard your grandmother tell you how great her daughter’s life could have been, “If your good for nothing father hadn’t come around.” You took it as she meant it: If she never had you.
That’s how it has always been around your mother’s side. She met Mav when he was stationed in Florida, your mother on spring break from her junior year in college. She was barely old enough to drink, but they made quick enough conversation. He was still in his flight suit from work when she walked into the bar with the rest of her friends. Only looking for a little fun she quickly left them in the dust for the man behind the aviators. They spent the entire week together until she had to go back to Ohio. He gave her his number in case she ever found herself back in Florida, and that was it. That is, until about a month later after finals were over and she still had one test to take. It came back positive.
Pete was thrilled to hear back from your mom already, hoping they’d be doing a different kind of catching up. Instead, he was met with the sound of your grandmother yelling at him through the phone. He didn’t hear much, but the few words and sentences he did catch were “pregnant”, “kill you”, and “my baby”, but to be honest he didn’t hear a lot after the first time she said pregnant. To be fair, your dad stepped up to the best ability the Navy would let him. He requested a transfer to be closer to the two of you, calling Carole for advice, and when you were born, she and Bradley even made the journey to see you.
Then there were the deployments. Everywhere he went, Mav seemed to piss off someone, whether it be his Captain, Admiral, or anybody above him who had the power to send him out, they did. Moving to Virginia, your parents tried for the first two years of your life. They really did. Your mother ended up dropping out of school to take care of you while your dad was away. Always citing the Navy for the reason their troubles began. When he was back they’d fight constantly, her saying he was always away, and him telling her that it was his job. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Thus started the arrangement you grew up with. Spending the school year with your mother, and the summers with your dad. Even if he had to leave in the middle, you spent the rest of your time with Carole and Bradley. A great reprieve from your mother’s side. Even from such a young age you felt bad taking away Carole from Bradley, learning guilt from your family very early on. There was one point when Pete was deployed when you were 8, Bradley 14, that you told him this. He told you he felt the same way about your dad and ended the conversation with, “We can share.”
You miss the times when you couldn’t wait to see the two of them. Which makes what happened last night even more bittersweet when you look back on it. Your dad didn’t even think there was conflict between you two, he just saw his kids talking again. That was enough for him. You didn’t even want to think about Carole right now. It always hurt, but knowing that her girl was fighting with her boy would have her smacking the both of you upside the head.
You could practically feel her in your brain the next morning. Either that or your head was pounding from all the tequila and lack of water in your system. From behind your eyelids you can tell the sun is just barely starting to come up. Damn that internal clock. You dare to move your face further into the pillow, but still completely at the feeling of something moving underneath your arm. Your hand lies curled into Bob’s side, the remainder of your arm resting over his stomach. You must have shifted in the night, you on your stomach, Bob’s hand now resting on your arm. His head facing toward you, eyes fluttering every couple of seconds, obviously in a deep sleep. He looks so peaceful like this, it almost stops your heart from beating out of its chest.
You take slow, measured breaths, praying you don’t wake him up. Not wanting to leave the only moment thus far that you’ve seen Bob completely at peace. Your eyes get caught wandering over the same few freckles across his nose and cheeks. As you admire the appearance of each dot, you are made painstakingly aware of how close your faces are. Your arm unintentionally flexes around his side and he takes a deep inhale. You close your eyes immediately, scared that you may have woken him up. His hand starts to smooth up and down your arm as you try to quiet your breathing. His hand abruptly stops in the middle of your arm as you feel his head lift from the pillow. You are trying your darndest to quiet your breathing all while your heart rate is skyrocketing. An impressive feat you are hoping Bob doesn’t catch on to. His head falls back to the pillow as you hear him let out a breath. He hasn’t dared to lift his hand from your arm quite yet, it still lingers, his fingers now tracing small shapes.
Oh god that was even worse. Feeling his hand wrap around your arm gave you butterflies. But now he was being so- delicate. Drawing deliberate shapes and patterns, none of which you could decipher. He was fully aware of what he was doing and now so were you. Your chest begins to feel light until the butterflies in your stomach are absolutely lurching. Wait, no you were going to be sick. Your eyes shoot open, alerting Bob, as you untangle yourself from the sheets and run toward the bathroom. Barely making it in time your stomach promptly evacuates whatever was left in there from last night. You can’t even hear Bob follow you in, but are made aware of his presence as he holds back your hair and rubs your back. Even as you’re puking up your guts, you take a moment to acknowledge just how touching the gesture is. And then you feel immediately guilty for letting Rooster get to you last night and ruining the plans you made with Bob.
Once you’re absolutely sure you’re finished, Bob helps you stand as your eyes meet in the mirror. He grabs your toothbrush, applying some toothpaste and handing it to you.
“You feeling ok?”, he asks as you begin to brush your teeth. You close your eyes and nod, not finding the strength to look at him quite yet. “Where do you keep your pain meds?”. You spit and rinse your mouth, continuing to lean over the sink.
“Cupboard to the left of the fridge”, you grumble. Just as soon as he’s gone, Bob reappears right next to you with a couple pills and a glass of water. You graciously accept the drugs and sip the water. You spare a glance in the mirror and catch Bob’s eyes. He had put his glasses on at some point, but was still sporting the sweatpants you lent him. It seemed weirdly intimate and almost fitting to see him in your clothes as well as in your bathroom. Oh god. This poor man had to put up with you all night and had to carry your drunk ass up the stairs. You place your hand over your forehead in embarrassment. “Oh god.”
“What’s wrong, you gonna be sick again?”, concern etches into his voice.
“No it’s not that. I’m just- I’m so sorry I ruined your night.”
“My night wasn’t ruined.” This has you opening your eyes once again and turning to Bob.
“How did I not ruin your night? You were supposed to go out and play pool, not carry your drunk coworker up the stairs and have to crash at her place.”
“Ok, first thing: If I recall correctly we did play pool. Number two: I offered to drive you home and then carry you up the stairs. And number three: I crashed here because I wanted to make sure you were ok. I didn’t feel right leaving you drunk and alone.” He seemingly and very purposefully left out the part where you practically begged him to stay in your bed. And you are grateful for that. The levels of empathy and generosity radiating from this man are astronomical. After getting through the exterior of anxiety and doubt, there is a big old softy in there.
“Well, thanks for doing all that. You didn’t have to.” You shyly offer.
“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I didn’t make sure you were taken care of.” You look up and share a small smile with him. Seemingly meeting your embarrassment and his kindness in the middle. But your head is still pounding as you wince at the light coming through the door. As if he could read your mind, Bob closes the blinds to your bedroom alleviating the pain slightly. “Let’s get you back to bed.” You blindly take his arm as he leads you to your bed once more, allowing you to get situated before he comes back. The bed dips as he sits next to you, “Fair warning, I’m gonna place this rag on your forehead, ok?”
“Ok”, you whisper. Bob gingerly smooths the cool rag over your head and places the glass of water on your nightstand.
“Now that I know you haven’t died during the night-”
“How can you be so sure? It doesn’t feel that way”, he lets out a small huff of laughter.
“Because you still have the ability to be a smartass. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you don’t have a quick comeback.” You smile at his use of the word ‘smartass’. You want to take it with a grain of salt, but hope it means he’s more comfortable around you to finally swear.
“Robert, such language.”
“I know I know, just don’t tell my mama.” You open your eyes a crack at the use of his southern drawl, smiling. He’s smiling right back at you, breaking the contact finally as he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get home to Sylvia. But I’ll be back later if you’re feeling better to go grab your car.” You reach out to grab the nearest thing to you, which happens to be his hand.
“Bob, I didn’t even think about my car. I am so sorry. I’ll just walk over there-”
“Hey it’s fine”, he squeezes your hand, “I only live about 10 minutes away, it’s not that big a deal.”
“After this you better be able to call me your friend. You took care of me while I was drunk and held my hair back as I puked. That’s as close as two people can be.” He smiles at your tired words. Of course he wanted to be your friend. He wanted to be more, but he would take anything you were willing to give him. And therefore what the Navy would allow. But he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. It still baffled him why you would want to talk to him in the first place, but here you are. Bonding over the fact that he took care of you. It wasn’t even a question in his mind, he was always going to make sure you were ok.
“Of course you’re my friend”, taking a look down at your still connected hands he realizes all the compromising positions he’s put you in during the last 12 hours. Deciding this is still too intimate for friends, he slips his hand out of yours and stands. “I’ll be back later if you’re feeling up to it.”
“If you insist.” Bob grabs his pants from their folded position on your dresser as well as his phone, looking back to you for one last glance.
“Oh I do.” He taps the door frame, “Get some sleep.” Your eyes slip shut as you succumb to a sleep you would classify as coma-like. You don’t even hear the front door close, Bob being mindful and shutting it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb your headache further.
Bob couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face the entire drive back to his place. You wanted him to be your friend. You wanted to spend time with him. And more importantly, he would be seeing you again later. He didn’t even care he saw you throw up this morning, he still thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Not to mention you were funny as hell and strong-willed. You didn’t back down when Rooster had confronted you, and you ended up beating him in pool, drunk. Thinking of how amazing you are had the smile slipping from his face. What exactly did you see in him? Even just as a friend, what could he have to offer you?
He all too soon pulls up to his driveway, noticing Phoenix’s car waiting for him. He furrows his brow, she never said she was coming over. He makes his way to the front door, unlocking it and walking in. He’s greeted by the sound of paws on the hardwood floor running towards him. Sylvia stretches her back legs jumping up on his chest.
“Hey girl!”He greets her with head scratches, gently resting her front back on the floor. Hearing him enter, Phoenix frantically rounds the corner and lets out a sigh of relief.
“Oh thank god. Where the hell have you been?!” She looks him up and down once, face contorting in confusion, “And who the hell’s pants are you wearing?”
“I crashed with Mantis, she was pretty drunk and I didn’t feel right leaving her alone. Why are you here?”
“Because you haven’t answered your phone all night or this morning! I was worried about you.” Bob grabs his phone from out of the pocket of your pants, realizing he left it on do not disturb. There in all their glory are the missed text messages and calls from Phoenix.
“I’m sorry, I put my phone on silent so it wouldn’t wake Mantis up.” Phoenix smiles softly at the notion, but furrows her brow once more.
“Wait, where exactly did you sleep?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you were afraid of your phone going off and waking her up that means you were pretty close.” Bob looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Bob, answer the question.” The way she squints her dark eyes at him makes him realize she isn’t messing around.
“I was in her room.”
“Did you sleep on the floor?”
“No” He responds quietly, hoping she didn’t hear it. By the way her eyes widen and mouth drops he knows she did.
“BOB!” He quickly holds his hands up in surrender, attempting to clarify the situation.
“I only did because she didn’t want me to leave! I stayed on my side the entire time and I promise you nothing happened.” She huffs out a sigh.
“If Mav finds out you were in his house, in his daughter’s bed-” Bob’s face reddens at her implications.
“Phoenix! Oh my god! You’re making it sound like something it definitely wasn’t”, he rubs his face in his hands avoiding her gaze.
“All I’m saying is, you are literally in her pants right now.” He continues to hide in his hands while Phoenix snickers at her own joke.
“You should go.”
“Oh come on, you’re the one in her clothes! But if it’s making you uncomfortable I’ll stop.” He peeks through his fingers and realizes she’s being sincere. She hears a muffled “thank you” from him as she makes her way to the door. “Good to know you’re alive. We still on for brunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah I’ll be there”, Bob mumbles out, still embarrassed.
“Good, Rachel’s really excited to meet you.” Bob finally looks at Phoenix and smiles, noticing the love-stricken look on her face.
“Well I’m excited to meet her, too.” Rachel and Phoenix have been going out for three months, Phoenix only now taking the initiative to introduce her to her friends. Not wanting to scare her off by bringing her by the Hard Deck. Last night only solidified that she was making the right choice in not doing so.
“See ya later!” she calls out, shutting the door behind her. Leaving Bob alone with Sylvia, he bends down and gives her all the attention she deserves. He takes her head in both his hands and scratches her ears.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here last night”, he says in the baby voice reserved only for her, “Daddy had to go take care of someone. I know, I know. Maybe you’ll meet her someday.” She cocks her head to the side. “But don’t get too attached, that’s gotta be my problem and mine alone.”
True to his word, after texting to make sure you were feeling ok, Bob came over to retrieve your car. After getting a few more hours of sleep and almost throwing up a couple more times, you were able to shower and down a few glasses of water. Then miraculously you put on some clothes and were attempting to do your hair as the doorbell rang. As fast as your legs let you, you cautiously walked down the stairs to open the door. Even with the pills you took earlier this morning, you were still feeling lightheaded. Not even attempting to eat anything after Bob had watched you at your not-so-finest moment.
You open the door and there’s Bob in all his coiffed hair and wire frames glory. Sporting another t-shirt that wraps perfectly around his biceps as well as jeans that hug his legs just right. You really wish you were a pair of jeans right now. You barely even notice he’s holding your neatly folded sweatpants until he holds them out for you to take.
“I washed these for you, thanks for letting me borrow ‘em.” You graciously take them, taken aback by his thoughtfulness. You really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.
“Thanks Bob, you really didn’t have to do that.” He simply shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets, straining his forearms.
“It’s really no problem. How are you feeling?” You move to take the pants back to your bedroom, answering him while climbing the stairs.
“I’m alright, definitely better than this morning, thanks to you.” You return downstairs and find Bob admiring the framed pictures on the walls. Some of you and your dad, some of just you. And of course some of Bradley with his family. He picks up a frame of you, Bradley, and Carole. You were only 10, and didn’t know it at the time, but it was one of the last summers you’d spend with the Bradshaws. “Oh god, don’t look at that.” It was meant to be playful, but scared Bob nonetheless.
“Sorry.”
“No I’m sorry, I don’t want to subject you to pre-pubescent me.” He smiles softly and looks back at the picture in his hands. You’re sporting a great toothy smile and hugging Carole while she sticks out her tongue and Bradley gives you bunny-ears with his fingers. Bob doesn’t think he’s ever seen you smile that wide since he’s met you.
“You look so happy” He watches as you reminisce, your eyes softening while your finger runs over the woman’s face. You don’t look a thing like her, but he notices the similarities in Bradley.
“I was”, you say simply. You clear your throat, breaking the both of you out of the moment. “So, you ready to finally get rid of me?” He lets out a small laugh through his nose. That statement could not be farther from the truth. Bob opens his passenger door for you, almost reaching to help you up, but pulling his hand back before it lands at your waist.
“Good to know it wasn’t my truck that was the problem.” You scoff at him as he slides into his seat, pulling his seatbelt on as you do the same.
“I happen to like your truck Robert, just not so much when I can barely feel my legs beneath me.”
“Glad to hear it.” You both smile at each other until he tears his eyes away to the road to get going. The radio begins to fill the silence with its humming, guitar filling the cab of Bob’s truck. His hands start to sweat as he looks over at you, your eyes closed as your head falls back to the headrest. “How’s your head?”
“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, you mumble. Bob chokes on his spit, eyes widening. Did he hear you correctly?
“What?”, he asks quickly. Your eyes mirror Bob’s as you look over at him, his gaze narrowly avoiding yours as his face heats up. You slap your hand over your mouth, forgetting whose presence you were in.
“Oh my god”, you say behind your hand, taking it away only to rest it in between the two of you. “I am so sorry, it’s a reflex response at this point! Phoenix showed me the Elvira movie while in school and it’s just something we say now.” You start to laugh nervously, hoping to dissipate some of the awkward tension you created. His facade cracks as your nervous giggle continues, he begins to break into a full hearted laugh while your giggle turns into something akin to his. “Bob”, you say as your laughter dies down, “If we’re going to be friends you’re going to have to get used to stupid crap like that.” His smile grows a bit wider, as he imagines himself laughing like this with you more often.
“I could get used to that.”
“Good”, you say, resting your head once again. Trying not to stifle another smile that threatens to take over your face.
“But seriously, how are you feeling?” You let out a large sigh.
“Oh you know, drugs can only do so much.” He knows you’re not letting on to how bad you’re actually feeling as your eyes remain closed.
“Have you had anything to eat today?”
“Oh god no, you were there this morning. I haven’t even dared to try to keep anything down.”
“Well that’s why your head still hurts. You need to absorb the lingering alcohol with some carbs. I know just the place.”
“Ya know I usually have dinner with someone before they sleep over, not the other way around.” Bob’s face still reddens at your remark, but this time he doesn’t shy away from laughing first.
“You know me, always breakin’ the rules.”
Bob pulls off into the parking lot of a small diner, one that had not seen any renovations since at least the 80s. You’re out of your side before he has a chance to open your door. He’s kind of glad you don’t give him the option. He wants to be a gentleman, but doesn’t want to toe the line between friends and something else. He does open the door for you and lets the hostess know it’s just the two of you before getting seated in a small booth close to the back.
You both begin to look over the menu before you speak up, “So, what do you recommend?” He glances up from over his menu before reaching over and pointing at yours. You can’t help but notice the veins bulging out of his hands and forearm as he does so. You keep reminding yourself that friends aren’t supposed to think of each other this way but you just can’t stop yourself from remembering how his hands felt on you. The drag of his long fingers over your arm, and the way his hands gripped your hips-
“They serve breakfast all day, and make a mean biscuits and gravy. But you can’t go wrong with a burger and fries.” Your stomach lurches at the thought and Bob must notice the grimace on your face. “Or, if you’re not feeling up for something that big, they do have good soups. But mama always said that the best cure for a hangover was some nice greasy food.” You smile at the slip of his accent.
“Well, if your mama says so.” His hand retreats as his lips curl up at your mirroring of his accent. The waitress comes over to take your orders, and at his mama’s advice you order a burger and fries. She leaves with the menus as you turn your attention back to Bob. “So, where ya from Bob?”
“I shoulda seen this coming”, he starts to fidget with his hands, drawing your attention back to the long digits.
“What do you mean?”, you respond coyly, feigning ignorance.
“Oh come on, I say ‘mama’ one too many times and people start asking where the twang comes from.”
“Well?”
“If you must know, I’m from West Virginia. Born and raised.” You raise your brows.
“No shit.”
“What?”
“It’s just that I spent every summer with my dad in Virginia. We’ve been next door neighbors this entire time.” Bob allows a slight smile to take over his face, entertained by your excitement.
“Where’d you spend the rest of the year?” It’s your turn to tear your eyes away from him. You try not to let the thought of your mom and her family affect you, but it’s obviously no use.
“With my mom, in Ohio.” Regardless of the fact that Ohio is also a neighbor to West Virginia, you brought up the time with your dad instead. Before he’s able to ask any follow up questions, the waitress comes by with your food, dropping the heaping portions in front of you. You hesitantly take a bite, but instantly melt into it as the first taste hits your tongue. “Shit, that’s good stuff.”
“What’d I tell ya?”, you smile at him through a mouth full of burger while he takes a bite. Opting to slow your roll before you upchuck anything else today, you set your food down and take a drink of your water. “So, your family’s still in West Virginia?” Bob gently sets his burger down and gives you his full attention.
“Yeah, I got an older brother and a younger sister. As well as my mom and dad. They live back on my family’s ranch.”
“So you are full-heartedly a John Denver country boy”, Bob laughs and stares down at his plate.
“I guess I am.”
“So how’d you end up in the Navy then? Assuming your family wanted you to work on the ranch.”
“They just wanted the best for me. One day I picked up a book in the library about planes and I was hooked. Then a Naval recruiter showed up to our high school and told me about the aviation program and here we are.”
“Here we are.” You share eye contact for a quick beat, both smiles growing slowly on your faces once more. You can’t help but feel a little jealous of his family. Both parents just wanting the best for their kids, supporting them no matter what. “I bet your mom’s the kind of person to have a sticker on her car saying ‘Proud Navy Mom’”. He bites his lip to stifle a large grin and you know you’ve hit the nail on the head.
“I plead the fifth.” You break out into a small laugh while Bob admires your smile. He wants to know more about your family but is hesitant to bring up the subject. He decides to go for it anyway, hoping to get to know you a little better than surface level. “I already know about your dad, but I’m assuming your mom wasn’t too thrilled when you joined?” Your hand stops mid-air from bringing the ketchup covered fry to your mouth. You place it back on the plate and dust your hands off on your jeans avoiding Bob’s gaze.
“Uh, no. No she wasn’t. There’s a reason I didn’t tell either of my parents I was going to the Academy, my dad didn’t even know until I sent him a graduation announcement.” Bob’s brow practically raises to his hairline.
“Really, not even your dad?”
“No”, you say shaking your head, “After everything that happened with Bradley I didn’t want to risk him pulling the same bullshit.”
“What exactly happened between you and Rooster?” You shake your head again, looking at him this time.
“You don’t wanna hear that.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.” Your eyes latch on to his, the sincerity oozing off of him.
“Well, he was like a brother to me. Closest thing I’ve ever had to one, excluding the step-siblings who couldn’t give less of a shit about my existence if they tried. And after my dad pulled his papers to the Academy I never heard from him again. I tried reaching out, and every year I still sent him a text for his birthday. But he never responded.” You swallow and look away from Bob, debating whether or not you’d tell him the whole truth. “And then when I needed him the most he still didn’t pick up. I even left him a voicemail hoping he’d hear it and after six years he’d respond. But nothing. After his mom died, I thought he’d need us more than ever. Turns out he was angry enough to never speak to us again.” You look back at Bob, bringing you down to earth once more. “That was, until this mission. It took them almost dying to get back to each other. That and one weekend in the middle of nowhere, God knows what they talked about.” Bob waits patiently, noticing you struggling to find the words to continue. He continues to nod and stare at you. Not in a pitiful way, but in a way that he wants to understand where you come from. “And I guess I’m still mad at him because both him and my dad got closure. I didn’t. I’m not going to apologize for something my dad did, and I guess Rooster doesn’t think he has anything to apologize for. And now they’re off playing catch-up, and I’m… still here. Not that right here is a bad thing, I’m glad to have your company.”
Bob’s eyes go from understanding to confusion. “If he made up with your dad, that still doesn’t explain why Rooster’s being-
“A dickhead?” You cut him off. There’s a small fire behind his eyes now, a look you have never seen on Bob until this point.
“Yeah.” You shrug, going back to your fries.
“I dunno, I’m no psychologist but I think it has something to do with the fact that I started all the smart comments and he’s just getting back at me. Still, I’m angry at him for good reason. I don’t know what his is.” You go back to your food, hoping Bob will notice your want to shift the gears of where this conversation has gone. “But now that you know my tragic backstory, I’m gonna have to kill you.” Catching the way you dissolve into humor, Bob’s face softens as he takes your hand across the table, he seems to be doing that a lot in the past week. You’re not mad about it, not at all. Just.. perplexed. How could you go from barely talking to this man, to sharing some of your darkest secrets with him all within the span of six days?
“Hey”, he brings your attention back to his face rather than your smaller hand in his. His brow turned up in the middle, conveying empathy in the highest degree. “I’m sorry you have to deal with all that, especially by yourself. And you know what, Rooster sounds like a total-” He stops to find the word he’s looking for, you look on waiting to let him see what he comes up with “asshole”, he finishes for himself. Your eyes widen as you take in his words, and that’s when you feel him squeeze your hand in his much larger one. The same hand that traced your arm this morning when he fell asleep next to you, the same one that lifted you up all those stairs, helped you into his car, the same one that pulled you off the ground after your failed exercise, and the same one that is now reassuring you that everything is going to be ok. He can’t know for certain, but for right now everything is better than ok while he holds your hand in his.
You want to tell him how safe he makes you feel, how you want to tell him more about yourself. Something you always had a hard time doing. You squeeze his hand right back and gaze into his ocean-blue eyes. You get lost in them before you’re able to seemingly find the words you’re looking for. They’re in your heart, but you can’t get them to your brain and out of your mouth. You open your mouth to speak, but before you’re able to get anything resembling a ‘thank you’ out, you hear your name being called.
Your head turns in the direction of the voice, as both you and Bob immediately retract your hands from each other. You’re met with Penny and Amelia walking toward the booth you and Bob are seated in. Your heartbeat is racing as you blink rapidly, you barely manage to speak, “Penny, hi!” You glance back at Bob as he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding any eye contact. Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you were doing anything wrong. You were just holding hands across the table with your newly coworker turned friend and getting lost in his gorgeous eyes. Absolutely nothing wrong with that.
“Hey, good to see you made it out of the parking lot alright last night”, Penny remarks as she and Amelia stand before your table. “Not that I had any room for doubt when Bob was the one making sure you got home safe.”
“Right, yeah he made sure I was ok.” You feel a flush take over your face at the prospect of anyone finding out Bob was in your bed last night. Especially your dad’s girlfriend and her daughter. But you know you didn’t do anything wrong, friends share beds all the time. It was purely platonic. “I’m sorry for last night though, won’t happen again.”
She waves her hand, “Don’t even worry about it. You had a little too much to drink in a bar, it happens all the time.” Amelia scoffs at this.
“I heard she got absolutely hammered-”
“Amelia!”Penny scolds her. Bob turns to face the wall, attempting to hide his laugh as you lightly kick his foot. “Anyway, what brings you two here?”
“Oh you know, just pulled off on the way to grab my car. Bob mentioned they have great burgers.” You give him a sly smile, as if it was your own little secret they were the perfect hangover cure.
“That’s exactly why Amelia and I are here. Just having a little date before the bar opens later.” You force a smile as you feel Bob’s gaze on the side of your face. That jealous feeling crawls back up your throat again as you look at the mother-daughter duo. “I thought you would have left already though?” Your brows furrow, breaking you out of your trance.
“Left? For what?”
“Rooster stopped by earlier to grab something for your dad, he was heading out to his hangar earlier today. I assumed you were going with him.” You clear your throat and stare at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs to distract yourself. Your heart drops as you realize, once again, you’ve been left out.
“Um, no. I wasn’t invited.” Screw Rooster, and you know what, screw your dad, too.
“Oh, well. You are always welcome to come over if you ever need or want to.” She seems surprised at the actions of her boyfriend. You make yourself look up at her, plastering on a small smile.
“I know, thanks Penny.”
“We’ll leave you two be. Good to see you both!”
“You, too.” Bob waves at them as you look at your plate, suddenly feeling nauseous again. Your throat starts to tense up as you reach for your water. You are almost 30 for heaven's sake, you should not be jealous of Rooster and your dad. And you sure as hell aren’t going to cry over it.
“Hey-”, Bob starts but is interrupted by the waitress dropping by with the check. You pick it up immediately before Bob can reach for it. “Hey no, let me get that.” You place the check on the seat next to you as you rifle through your purse to grab your card.
“Nope, after everything you did for me last night and today I am not letting you pay.” He goes to open his mouth and you stare directly at him, “Don’t even try Bob.” Sensing the determination in your eyes and voice, he reluctantly allows you to pay.
“That’s alright, I’ll just grab the next one.” You look away as the waitress grabs the bill from you, and surprise coats your features.
“You wanna hang out again? Even after everything that happened in the past 24 hours?”
“Especially after everything. I can’t go back to being just your co-worker after seeing you vomit.” A nervous smile makes its way to his face as a more real one replaces yours.
“You’re right, we’re friends now. And I can promise you there will be less vomit next time.”
“Can’t wait.”
After getting your card back, you and Bob make your way back to his truck and head off to the Hard Deck. You spot your lone car in the back, only a couple employee cars litter the front row. Bob pulls up right next to your car, hopping out and making sure you have everything before you leave. He even goes so far as to open your door for you as you roll your window down to say goodbye.
“Well, I guess this is me.”
“I guess it is.” He rests his hands on the open window as you grab one final look at him. You rest your elbow in between his hands, admiring his veins. Trying not to imagine tracing over them with your fingers.
“You better not ghost me at work on Monday.” You scold him. He laughs through his nose and looks down.
“I promise I won’t.”
“I’m holding you to that, Floyd. And thanks again, for everything.” He taps his fingers a couple times before leaning away.
“I trust you will, Mitchell. Drive safe.” You bid him goodbye, taking a deep breath, trying no to process everything that happened today while driving. Saving all your feelings for when you’re home alone, in the privacy of your room. The only four walls you feel safe to cry in.
Bob watches you slowly drive to the edge of the parking lot. He would have never guessed so many things that he learned about you today. The way you looked at Penny and Amelia deeply saddened him. The fact that Rooster is still being an asshole after he didn’t speak to you for 16 years angered him. After you shared that with him, he wanted to do everything in his power to make you happy. It’s obvious you’re good at putting on a mask, but Bob is good at noticing the little things. How great you are at faking happiness being one of them. And then there’s the fact that after today you’re going home to an empty house because your dad and Rooster made plans without you, yet again.
Before he fully knows what he’s doing, his feet start moving toward your car, hoping to catch you before you leave the parking lot. It must have been the fastest he’s ever run, possibly even faster than when his older brother, Tom, chased him with a handful of cow poop. You must notice him in your rear view, as you stop and poke your head out the window.
“Is everything ok?”, you ask, concern lacing your features. Bob’s out of breath as he gets to your window, once again resting his hands in your car. And he’s still out of breath as he asks his question.
“Do you wanna get brunch tomorrow?”
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