#oh and by the way i have fourteen asks now from her in total

[alexsnerdycorner]

You're My Girl

Title: You’re My Girl

Word Count: 2450

Warning: Smut, Swearing, reader wears a dress, PIV sex, Oral (F receiving), orgasm denial (female), multiple orgasms, no cuddling or aftercare., a bit of a praise kink,

Fandom: X-Men/Marvel/X-men 97

Pairing: Remy LeBeau/Gambit X Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Request: hi hello I am SO here to provide Remy smut requests. reader gets jealous of Bella Donna flirting with Remy so he has to remind her who his girl REALLY is (also she totally hears them)

Summary: Remy has eyes for Y/N but when the League of Assassins and Guild of Thieves have other plans for him, things don’t go well. Bella Donna has been flirting with Remy all day at their engagement “party” which makes Y/N jealous. When she starts giving him the cold shoulder, he takes her into his room and fucks her within earshot of his fiancé. Remy gets off on the fact that she can hear you two.

A/N: Ah! I love this idea! I will say I have yet to read all of the Gambit comics, but I have watched x-men TAS/97 and have read some of the comics with gambit and belladonna. I’m so stoked to be writing this!!! I squealed when I read this request. My dear ANON, if you have any more requests for any character, please reach out. I might even do a part two to this is you all like it.

Work:

When you were thirteen, you were banished from home after showing the mutant ability to create portals that teleported you and others anywhere you could think of. Jean-Luc LeBeau of the Thieves’ Guild took you in off the streets after witnessing you steal some food from a stand in New Orleans’ French Quarter. He introduced you to his adoptive son and mutant, Remy, a handsome fourteen-year-old. Jean-Luc and Remy taught you the ways of their world, turning you into a master thief.

You had always been attracted to Remy from the moment you met him. Remy was always there for you no matter what. He had a soft spot for you as he too was abandoned for being a mutant. The day you turned eighteen, Remy asked you out on a date. You, being in love with him already, said yes.

Things were going great until Bella Donna Bordeaux entered the scene. Bella Donna was the daughter of a high-ranking member of the Assassin’s Guild, the Thieves’ Guild sworn enemy. She also couldn’t resist Remy’s charm and good looks.

Behind your back, Jean-Luc and Bella Donna’s father arranged a peacemaking marriage between Remy and Bella Donna. When Jean-Luc announced it a few months after you turned twenty-one, you were heartbroken.

A few weeks later they held an engagement party for Remy and Bella Donna which you were forced to attend. This is where you were now. Sitting in the corner near where Remy stood in a suit and tie, you watched as Bella Donna came over and linked her arm with Remy’s. A huge smile was plastered on her face. Remy smirked up at her.

“Oh, Remy, mon amour, would you come meet my friend, she has been just dyin’ to meet you?” She said.

“Uh,” Remy paused for a moment as if unsure to go with her, “Sure. Why not, Cher.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as Bella Donna guided him over to a dark-haired woman almost as beautiful as she was. He extended a hand in greeting which she accepted and shook. You couldn’t hear their whole conversation, just bits and pieces as it was loud in the ballroom of the Thieves’ Guild compound. You were supposed to be socializing but just sat there in the corner by the bar and watched Remy.

Bella Donna was giggling at something Remy said and took her hand and pressed it to his chest in a flirtatious gesture. You heard her say the phrase “be a doll” and then the word “drink”.

He turned to her and said something you couldn’t hear and she replied to him. Remy started to walk to the back of the room towards you and the mini bar. He smiled at you as you sipped your drink.

“Hi Cher,” he greeted you.

“Remy” you said flatly.

Seeing the bartender was busy with someone else, he reached over the counter and poured himself a bourbon. He placed the bottle back over the counter, The bartender came over and asked how she could help.

“An expresso martini for miss Bella Donna, please,” he turned to the bartender and then back to you when she turned to make the martini.

“She looks like she’s having fun.” You nodded in Bella Donna’s direction. Her back was turned and she was having an animated conversation with her friend.

“Yeah she is.” He said wistfully and stared at you for a moment with an undeterminable look on his face for a moment. You shied away from his look and found yourself staring at the ground.

“Sir, the drink,” the bartender pushed out the glass to Remy.

“Yes, thank you, mon ami.” He grabbed the drink from the bar. You watched him as he walked back to Bella Donna and hand her the drink. She smiled at him in thanks.

She sipped the drink slowly and glanced up to see you staring. You overt your eyes for a moment as she set her drink down on the table in front of her. You looked back up as she whispered something in Remy’s ear and held out her hand to him. You can’t help but roll your eyes. He looked up at her and took her hand. He led her over to the dance floor.

A slower song started to play as she held onto his shoulder with one had and his hand with the other. He led her in a slow dance. Bella Donna looked back over to where you were sitting to find you staring at the two of them yet again. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Remy’s cheek, making your blood boil.

You shot out of your chair and over to the entryway where Jean-Luc stood.

“I’m not feeling that great, Jean-Luc,” you lied, “I have a migraine, is it okay if I lie down for a bit?”

Concerned, Jean-Luc places a hand on your shoulder, “Are you alright, darlin’?”

“I will be,” you said forcing a smile onto your face, “I would just like to lie down in my room for a bit.”

“Yes, go. Go. I will get you when food is being served.” He patted you on the back.

You take one last glance over to Remy and catch his eye. He raises his brow in question. You roll your eyes and portal to the next room over, your bedroom.

Once in your room you let out a sigh and kicked your shoes off. How could he do this to you? How could he just let her flirt with him all evening without even so much as a look at you to see if you were okay? How could he be –

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. You open and see Remy standing there sheepishly. You looked past his shoulder and could see Bella Donna waiting by the entrance to the ballroom.

“What,” you said coldly but let him in. He closed the door behind himself.

“Pa said you weren’t feelin’ good. I came to check on you.” He said lightly.

“Shouldn’t you be out there with your fiancé?” you asked harshly.

Remy sighed and then chuckled, “That’s what this is about, cher?”

You clench your jaw and look away from the man you loved, “Not like you even care.”

“Come on, dats not fair.” He reached out to touch your arm but you backed away.

“She’s been flirting with you all night at the party for your engagement and you don’t even have the balls to ask me how I’m doing,” you spat.

“Cher-” he starts.

“Don’t ‘cher’ me, Remy. We were dating for almost three years before she found a way to get you away from me. And then you pretend that we never were together. That we never even mattered.”

“Y/N,” he said, “We do matter.”

“That’s not how you’re acting. You never even objected to the marriage. You chose her over me.” Frustrated tears brimmed at your eyes.

“Y/N, dat’s not true. Not true at all. I begged Jean-Luc to let me have you. To find a ‘nother way to unite the guilds. He said I will either marry her or get banished without you. And I couldn’t stand the tought of loosin’ ya. It was Sophie’s choice, cher.” He found your eyes with his own and didn’t let them go. “Don’t ya tink for one second that I chose her over you.”

He moved to touch your arm again and you let him this time. You look up at him with watery eyes, “I miss you already”

“I’m right here, cher. Right here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t leave me Remy. Please.” You said into his chest, “Run away with me.”

“Dey will hunt us down, cher, you know dat.” He said into your hair.

“Let them,” you pulled back and looked at his face.

“Y/N,” he said sadly.

“Remy, I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing will change that. I want you. No one else. You”

You could see something go off in Remy’s brain the moment you said you loved him. When you finished talking he leaned forward and kissed you hard on the lips. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his body. He broke the kiss, “I want you too, mon amour.”

Remy shrugged off his suit jacket, placed it on your dresser, and kicked his shoes off. He then walked you back to the bed and you sat down on it. He knelt on either side of your legs and kissed you. His tongue parted your mouth and danced with yours. His fingers danced at the hem of your short dress. It was flowy so the skirt was around you instead of under you.

“You’re so beautiful in this dress cher,” he said between kisses, “but right now I want it off you and on the floor.”

He pulled up the dress up over your head and tossed it to the ground

“You’re my girl, my only girl,” He growled and loosened his tie before sliding it over his head.

He went back to kissing you. As his hand roamed your body you started to undo the buttons to his dress shirt. You pushed the shirt off his body and let it fall to the floor in a heap. He held you to him, stroking up and down your back and then around to your front, grazing your breasts before stopping at your shoulders. He gently pushed you back so that you were lying down and hovered over you.

“I’m gonna want you to scream my name loud enough so she can hear that you’re my girl. So they all can hear that you’re my girl.” He whispered into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck and stomach and to the waistband of your panties. He replaced his mouth with his hands and slowly slid your panties off. He tossed them aside all while maintaining eye contact with you.

He scooched back so that his head was hovering over your midsection. He lowered his mouth to your core and started to lick at your clit. His hands holding onto your thighs. Your hands moved to his head, removing his hair from his pony tail, and running your fingers through it.

“Oh god your mouth feels so good,” you moaned. He licked long and slow circles down your clit. When he put more pressure on it, your hips bucked and you let out a moan. He grabbed your thighs harder and let out a soft giggle that vibrated against your throbbing bud.

He introduced a finger into your pussy and you arched your back off the bed. He inserted another finger and you groaned out his name.

“Cher, I’m gonna need you to be a bit louder for me. I know you can do that for Remy.” He began pumping his fingers in and out all while lapping at your clit. He introduced one last finger and began a harsh and fast come-hither motion on your g-spot.

“Oh Fuck, Remy!” You shouted.

“Now dats better, mon amour.”

Your breathing hitched and you felt a coil deep in your stomach start to unravel. Your walls started to spasm and contract around his fingers.

“I’m close, baby.” You cried out. But before you could climax he removed his fingers and mouth. You whined in protest.

“Ain’t no way I’m just gonna let you cum on my fingers. I want you to cum on my fucking cock so you remember that you’re my girl.” He pushed himself up off the bed and removed his belt in one fell swoop. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down with his boxers revealing a long hard cock glistening with precum.

You sat up and reached for his cock. You opened your mouth but he stopped you with his words, “No cher, tonight’s all about you and your pleasure. Lay back and enjoy.”

He bent down to kiss you as you laid back down on the bed. He teased your wet pussy with his hard cock and then pushed in in one quick thrust.

“Oh, Remy! Yes!” you couldn’t contain your moans.

He began a slow and agonizing pace to let you get adjusted. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Ça c’est une bonne fille” he panted. That’s a good girl.

You clenched around his cock at his praise, “Oh, God. I love you Remy.”

“I’m gonna need ya’ to be a bit louder, Y/N,” He grunted, picking up the pace.

He soon began a merciless rhythm with frenzied thrusts and grunts. That familiar feeling of tension came back to your stomach and you hungrily kissed him.

“I’m close, Remy! Please,” You begged loudly.

Please what, cher?” He urged, “use ya’ voice.”

“Please let me come!” you pleaded. The coil tightened, threatening to push you over the edge.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” he howled, “come for me.”

The coil in your stomach shattered, flooding you with pure ecstasy. Your walls clenched around his cock and he swore loudly.

“Merde! Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned.

“Come for me baby,” You kissed his neck.

He let out a grunt and frantically shoved into you before allowing himself to release his seed into you. He pumped his cum into your pussy with his cock and slowly pulled out of you.

He grabbed some tissues from your nightstand and cleaned your pussy gently. He grabbed more and cleaned himself off.

“Woo, cher, Remy loves ya’ so much!” he exclaimed. He took in the sight of you completely undone on the bed from his doing and smiled, “Whaddya say we go back out there? I wanna see the look on ‘er face.”

You knew who exactly she was. It was Bella Donna. So you smirked and nodded your head. Remy helped you up and dressed you before dressing himself in his now wrinkled suit.

He gave you one last kiss before opening your door and leading you out. Jean-Luc was in the corner with Bella Donna and her father. The moment she saw the two of you she raced over as fast as she could while wearing high heels.

“You fucking man-stealing whore!” Bella Donna yelled at you. She raised a hand to slap you but before she could Remy caught her wrist and tutted in disapproval.

“Uh-uh Bella, you don’t touch her. She’s mine.” Remmy growled and released her hand. She stood flabbergasted as Remy turned to you, “Can I have this dance?” He held out a hand to you and without any hesitation, you took it and he led you onto the dance floor leaving a sputtering Bella Donna at the entrance.

[munson-blurbs]

Thot of the day: reader is obsessed with Eddie's lips, she has the biggest fattest crush on him, maybe he's a costumer in her cafe, they often speak/flirt and she watches him greedily, thinking about what those lips could do on her. She often fantasizes about making him sucking her fingers while she rides him. Well, she's determined to make him hers 🫠

Combined with this anon req:

Hello hello hello! I love your blog! may I please request a little smutty thing of Eddie losing his mind over fem reader having a tongue piercing when she's going down on him?

I took some liberties and made some changes so Eddie is more subby; hope that's okay!

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), teeny mention of breeding kink, subby!Eddie

WC: 2.5k

--

Eddie hadn’t even meant to meet you. 

He’d only stumbled into the café in a feeble attempt to get out of the pouring rain after the wind snapped his umbrella inside out. The goal was to get to the nearest McDonald’s for lunch, since he’d forgotten his sandwich at home, but the weather had other plans. 

“Shit shit shit,” he’d muttered, shaking out the umbrella haphazardly before giving up and chucking it in the trash. There was no way he was walking anywhere else, so he wiped his hands on his jeans—which were now stuck to his thighs—and approached the counter to get a better look at the menu. 

“What can I get for you?” A voice greeted him, coming out from behind the espresso machine. You gave him a small smile as you grabbed a notepad to jot down his order. 

“Um,” Eddie’s full attention was on you, rather than his food options. “Do you serve coffee here?” 

You gestured at the bags of coffee beans lining the counter. “What gave it away?” you’d asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

He could smack himself—it’s a café, of course there’s coffee. “I mean, I’ll have a large coffee, cream and sugar.” That’s what Wayne gets whenever they go to the diner, so he chooses the same. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows. “Anything to eat?” You pointed to the small chalkboard hanging behind you. “If you need help sounding out any of the words, let me know.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Are you calling me dumb?” he’d balked. “What kind of customer service is this?” But he was smiling, and his silly, overly dramatic nature had you giggling. 

That’s when he saw it. 

The black stud, perfectly adorning the center of your tongue. It flicked against your teeth as you’d told him, “the chicken pesto panini is my favorite.” There was no response from the curly-haired metalhead before you. You’d squinted slightly, waving your hand in front of his face. “Hello? You good?”

“Wha—oh, yeah,” he’d stammered bashfully, breaking from his trance. “I’ll have that, then. The, uh, the chicken thing.”

“So, one coffee and one chicken thing?” you’d teased him. “And who’s this for?” 

Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. “It’s for me?” It comes out as a question. 

“And does ‘me’ have a name?” You laughed again. He didn’t even care that you were laughing at him, not with him. He’d say or do nearly anything to get a glimpse of your tongue and that godforsaken piercing. 

“Oh, uh, Eddie. Eddie is my name,” he says lamely. 

“Eddie. Got it.” You’d written his name on the side of the Styrofoam cup in permanent marker. He’d felt himself stiffen against his zipper when you’d said his name aloud. He wanted to hear you moan it, scream it, over and over. 

From that moment on, Eddie is totally smitten. He stops by the café for his coffee every morning on his way to work at the record store. The burgeoning caffeine addiction is worth getting to talk to you for just a few seconds. 

After a week of flustered half-conversations, he finally works up the nerve to ask you an actual question.

“Are you from around here? Like, from Hawkins?” It’s clunky and awkward, but it’s a start.

“Kinda?” You chuckle at his puzzled expression. “I lived here until my parents divorced when I was fourteen, right before I started high school. Then I went to live with my dad in Chicago until I started college last year.”

“That’s cool–I mean, it’s not cool that your parents split up, that sucks, but it’s cool that you lived in Chicago and go to college and stuff.” Good God, stop talking, Eddie wills himself, practically clamping his lips shut in an attempt to cut off his babbling. “What brings you back?”

You give an exasperated sigh. “My mom insisted I spend the summer with her; she wants to ‘reconcile our misgivings’ or whatever bullshit line Oprah fed her.” Eddie takes note of your eye roll when you speak about your mother. “So she set me up with this job while she drags me to family therapy once a week.” You pull a cup from the pile in front of you. “Your usual?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly, trying to find another topic to keep the conversation from ending. “Where do you go to college?”

Your smile melts him, and he has to grip the counter to keep his knees from buckling. “The Pratt Institute. It’s in New York City,” you elaborate.

Eddie’s jaw drops. “No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “I’ve always wanted to go to New York, but to actually live there? That’s fuckin’ awesome!”

“My mom wasn’t thrilled,” you confess through gritted teeth. “She never liked that I wanted to pursue art as a career. It was always, ‘make it a hobby so you can get a real job.’” You slide his cup towards him. “It’s like, she disapproves of everything that I do: what I study, friends I hang out with, people I’ve dated.”

“Are you seeing anyone now?” The question spills out before he can think it through, hoping you don’t pick up on his eagerness.

You shake your head. “Single as ever,” you reply chipperly. “Why, you putting in an application?” Your tongue sneaks past your teeth, just enough to show off the piercing.

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks at your proposition. “Maybe? If you’re interested? If not, I can just pay for my coffee and go.”

You tilt your head, musing his proposition. “I’d be lying if I said I was looking for something serious right now,” you begin, watching his shoulder sag dejectedly, “but my boss doesn’t get here for another hour, if you wanna fool around in the back?”

Eddie’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “You wanna fool around…with me?” He doesn’t wait for your response as he hoists himself over the counter, knocking over the stack of cups and the basket of sugar packets. “I’ll clean that up later,” he mumbles, dragging you to the door marked “employees only.” 

His hands are relentless, like he can’t decide where to put them first. First, he cups your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, but determines that that’s too intimate for the occasion. He brings his palms up your shirt, messily groping at your tits through your bra. “S’perfect,” he growls as he bites your neck. You can feel him twitching in his jeans, and you grind up against him. The groan that leaves his mouth is downright pornographic. 

Your tongues intertwine as he pushes you against the door. He tastes like stale cigarettes and the sip of coffee he just had. His knee instinctively slips between your legs, angled perfectly for you to rub yourself on it. 

“You ever get head from someone with a tongue piercing before?” When he shakes his head dumbly, you take the opportunity to continue taunting him. “Oh, sweet boy; have you ever gotten head from anyone before?”

“N-No,” Eddie admits. “But I’d like to change that.”

You giggle at his candid confession, fingers toying with his belt buckle. He hisses at the mere brush of your hands against his clothed erection. Pulling his pants and boxers down as you drop to your knees, you watch in awe as his thick cock smacks against his stomach, leaving a pre-cum stain on his Dio shirt. “Damn, these Hawkins girls don’t know what they’re missing,” you tell him. You lean over, spitting on his pink tip and collecting the saliva back in your mouth as you lick up his shaft. 

The piercing feels like absolute heaven on the ridges of his dick. You trace along the vein as you take as much of him in your mouth as you can. He’s huge. 

“Holy shit, holy fuckin’ shit,” Eddie breathes, digging his ringed fingers into your hair. “Please keep going, please please please.”

Never one to turn down the chance to torture, you let go of his cock with a pop. “What was that, baby?” You give a mischievous smirk. 

Eddie looks like he’s about to cry at the loss of contact. “No, don’t stop; need you,” he whines, jutting out his lower lip reflexively. 

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” You take him back in your mouth, sucking him off while playing with his balls. He’s not expecting that, and he bucks his hips into you, making you gag.

“‘M sorry,” he whispers, pulling back slightly to let you breathe. “Didn’t mean to…” He spins a ring on his finger anxiously.

“Maybe I like choking on you,” you murmur, grasping his softening length in your lithe fingers and pumping it, watching it stiffen in your hand. “You know what else I’d like?” He hums his response. “I’d like you to cum in my mouth. Y’think you can do that for me?”

You’re shocked when he shakes his head no. “I don’t wanna cum yet,” he mumbles, hoping you’ll get the hint. “Tryna hold out so, y’know…”

You lick your lips and sneer. “Honey, I bet you can get it back up in under five minutes, if that.” Swirling your tongue over his angry red tip, and grabbing his thighs, you bring him to his climax. He spills into your mouth, moaning your name so loudly you’re worried a rogue customer might hear. 

Eddie gently withdraws, and you part your lips to show him his cum on your tongue. The black stud makes the perfect centerpiece as you swallow his load.

A string of his cum lingers on your pointer and middle fingers. You consider it for a moment before bringing it to his lips. “You should taste yourself, Eddie,” you murmur. “Taste s’fucking good.” He opens his mouth obediently, sucking on your fingers harshly. His tongue tickles against them, and you shiver.

“You’re…oh my God,” he manages. “Is it too forward to say that you’re perfect?”

“I don’t care what you say, as long as you fuck me right now,” you growl into his ear. You can’t act like he’s the only needy one any longer. Ever since he’d walked into the café, drenched from the rain, you’d wanted him. Wanted his soft, pillowy lips on yours. Wanted him to sink his teeth into your skin until he left marks. Wanted him inside you, filling you up completely.

He nods his head, but the rest of his body seems to freeze in place. He snaps out of it as you bring his hands to the button on your skirt, quickly using his thick fingers to strip you of it and revealing black lace underwear. He practically falls to his knees, kissing your wet pussy through the cloth. 

“You’re fucking soaked.” Eddie can’t hide the awe in his voice, tugging at the fabric so roughly that it rips. “Oh, shit. ‘M sorry.”

“No, that was really hot,” you tell him breathlessly, mindlessly bringing your middle finger to your throbbing clit. Eddie pushes it away, running his tongue along your folds. He’s eager but timid, so you encourage him. “Fuck me with your tongue, baby. Oh, that’s it—right there,” you wail as he finds your hole. His thumb is rubbing frantic circles on your sensitive bud, not stopping until you cum so hard, your toes curl. 

“Fuck—yes—Eddie—I’m coming—f’you,” you manage, throwing your head back and biting your fist to muffle your screams. Sweat drips down the side of Eddie’s neck. “Worked so hard for me, didn’t you?” you coo, resuming your dominance. “C’mere; you ready to cum again?” His boner speaks for itself, twitching up against him. 

You lean your stomach against the cool countertop, mentally reminding yourself to sanitize it tonight. “‘S not ideal, but it’ll do,” you say. A lot of people want their first time to be in a bed, or on a beach, gazing lovingly into their partner’s eyes. Well, Eddie Munson was going to lose his virginity by fucking you from behind in the café kitchen, but you doubt he’s complaining. 

“I d-don’t have, um, protection.” He winces at his awkwardness, massaging the nape of his neck. 

“Relax. I’m on the pill.” When he shoots you a dubious glance, you laugh. “Do I look like I wanna have your babies?” His eyebrows raise at the thought of it. “Oookay, we’ll unpack that another time. For right now, for the love of God, put your dick inside me.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie sets himself behind you, sliding into your waiting pussy. “So tight; takin’ me so good.” He pinches his face together in ecstasy. 

You press your palms into the counter. “Harder. I l-like it rough.” He takes direction well, pistoning into you and grabbing your ponytail. “Yes, Eddie. Pull my hair. Fucking yank it.” You clench around his length as you feel the familiar strain on your scalp. 

“Can’t—hold—out,” Eddie groans. He wants to make you cum again, but his orgasm is just too close, and he finds himself spilling into you for the second time today. “Thassit. Take it. Take my cum, just like that.” He keeps thrusting even as he gets softer, fucking his seed into you. When he comes down from the high, he’s immediately embarrassed. “You didn’t get to—”

But he’s interrupted by the sound of the bell jingling, signaling an incoming customer. “Y/N? Where are you, dear?” a voice calls out. 

Eddie knows that voice. He knows it all too well. 

You roll your eyes. “Ugh, my mom’s here. I forgot she said she was gonna visit me at work today.” You pull your skirt back up to your waist, fasten it quickly, and secure your hair back in its tie. 

Your…mom? But that sounded like…

Without thinking, Eddie follows you, adjusting himself and fixing his belt as he walks. There’s no way…

“Edward? I didn’t know you worked here with my daughter!”

You turn to Eddie, confused. “How do you know my mom?”

But the older woman answers for him. “Oh, we know each other very well. Mr. Munson took English with me three times over. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, Mrs. O’Donnell,” he replies miserably. “But I finally graduated this year.”

“And thank God for that,” Mrs. O’Donnell scoffs. “Do me a favor and stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need any more bad influences in her life.”

Something comes over Eddie—maybe it’s his pure rage towards his former teacher; maybe it’s the confidence he feels from losing his virginity—but he steps closer to you and grabs your ass through your skirt. “Not a problem. I think my work here is done, anyway.”

Mrs. O’Donnell practically faints on the spot. “What—what do you—oh, for heaven’s sake, please don’t tell me you two are dating.”

“Oh, no, we’re not dating,” you smirk, waiting for her to relax before dropping the bomb: “We’re just sleeping together.”

Eddie grins, leaning over to kiss you possessively. “See you tomorrow? Same time and place?” He winks at Mrs. O’Donnell, still in shock from your blunt admission. “Don’t worry; I passed sex ed the first time.”

--

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get jealous of jacks cast mate, when in reality you have nothing to worry about

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader is kinda self conscious? a little angst turned to fluff :)

based off this request: Reader thinks jack likes one of his other coworkers (or him and r could be childhood friends) but he acc likes her idk from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: hope you enjoy!! jack is SUCH a loverboy

jacks radiant laugh echoed from your computer screen, which made you pause the video and start sulking. 

you were currently watching an interview over his new romance movie, and god did it make you feel envious.

while his heavenly giggle usually made you grin from ear to ear, this time it made you frown, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

you were upset because he was laughing at his cast mate, annie. annie played his love interest in the movie, and you could tell she liked him. and judging by the way he was looking at her in the video, you thought he liked her back.

she was gorgeous, and talented, and really funny too. everything you thought you weren’t. 

and the real gut punch is you have no right to be jealous. jack and you weren’t dating, but were only childhood friends. you told eachother everything, and spent countless of hours hanging out.

although, there was one thing you didn’t mention to him. you were helplessly in love with him. your crush developed when you were 13, and it never stopped growing. 

you felt like your heart had been stomped on and crumpled up after watching the interview.

it made you feel worse when you realized you were being to much of a “jealous girlfriend” to someone you weren’t even dating. 

tears couldn’t help but fall as you scrolled through the comments. 

user37638- jack and annie DEFINITELY have something going on 👀

jackslover- wait are him and the blond girl dating?!??

anniesfan4lifeeee- jack and annie would lowkey make such a cute couple omg?!?

you started to feel worse as you realized that maybe he was happy. maybe he did really like her, and you needed to support him. ruining fourteen years of friendship over some stupid feelings is crazy. right?

that was until you hear the front door to your apartment opening. oh shit. jack was supposed to come over at 12! why is he here so early?!? 

you checked the time, only to find out that you had spent the whole day sobbing in your, now very messy, bed. you didn’t have time to react before jack was entering your room.

he immediately noticed your tears and went up to you. you stood up out of bed, still wearing your pajamas. well the oversized shirt you had on was his, but whatever.

jack brought you in to a warm embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. after some time, he let go to face you.

he used his thumb to wipe off your tears, looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“y/n what happened? you know i hate seeing you like this. do i need to fight someone for you?” jack asks, trying lightening the mood a little.

you smiled, and he took that as his own personal victory.

“its nothing jack. anyways, how was filming in greece?” you say, trying your best to plaster on a happy face and skip over the topic. it didn’t work. god dammit jack, why are you so caring?!?

“it’s not nothing. y/n tell me, please.” jack looks at you with those adorable brown eyes and you know you have to tell him. even if you don’t want to, its best for jack to know.

“if i tell you this, you have to pinky promise this wont ruin anything.” you say, sticking your finger out. he locks pinkies with you, and you both kiss your thumb, signifying that the promise will be kept. jack then waits patiently for you to continue.

“i like you. more than a friendly way. I’ve felt this way since we were thirteen. if you dont like me back, that fine i guess! or if you like annie I totally understand and i think you would make a cute couple-“ 

jack cuts you off quickly after hearing the last sentence. 

“i dont want annie. i want you.” 

you look up at him shocked, your mouth slightly open. you notice him looking at your lips, and you get the hint. you close the gap, and place your plump lips on his. 

its was like your lips were puzzle pieces, because of how perfectly they fit together. all of your envy washed away at the heavenly sensation. 

you both pulled away from the passionate kiss, your lips coated in a mixture of you and jacks spit. you make eye contact with him, and smile. you could finally call him yours. 

[filtharchives]

a sfw piece! finally! yippee! happy new year!

four parts total, mostly short aside from the third 

summary: cove x reader - you presented as your secondary sex and now you and cove have to cope; just small moments in the omegaverse

tags: sfw, fem/afab reader, omega!reader, alpha!cove, omegaverse, minor implications of predatory behavior towards reader, slight reimagination of the intro to Step 3, kind of possessive cove (very minor tho), blood mention (during bond marking), not edited lol i don’t do that lmk if i missed any tags tho

at fourteen years old, you figured you got the hang of the whole ‘puberty’ thing—or at least understood it enough to live with it. of course, you weren’t done with new changes, according to your parents and your middle school health teacher. you still had to present, which would come sooner or later by now.

it came sooner rather than later. you went to bed feeling a little weird but woke up this morning feeling normal again, only to run into your sister on the way to the bathroom and for her to freeze in her tracks and stare at you in surprise for a moment as she sniffs the air. 

“oh, hey. you’re an omega. congrats,” she’d said before quickly entering the bathroom and locking you out as she went about her morning routine.

despite elizabeth’s lackluster reaction, your moms were much more enthusiastic about your presentation, and your ma even taught you how to nest, bringing you to now. 

you’re waiting on cove’s bed while he digs through his closet, looking for things to give you for your first nest, as per your request. he was incredibly flustered when you asked and the blush on his face still hasn’t quite gone away. 

“is a blanket okay?” cove asks, holding one up and avoiding eye contact. 

“ma says that when people give their omega stuff for their nest, it’s usually used clothes,” you say matter-of-factly, pretending not to notice cove’s flinch when you say ‘their omega’. “cause it still has their scent and stuff on it.”

“w-why do you even want my stuff anyways?” cove asks shyly, putting the blanket back.

“ma said that for younger omegas who don’t have mates, their nest usually has stuff from their family and friends, and you and i are best friends, so i need your stuff too.” 

cove nods in understanding, a little less embarrassed now, but only enough to look up at you from his place on the floor. 

“alright, then. so… wanna look through my laundry basket?” he chuckles a bit, finding the proposition a little weird. you giggle as well but nod, scooting up the bed and out of the way as cove grabs his laundry basket and dumps its contents across his sheets. you grab one of the shirts and sniff, feeling butterflies in your stomach. you don’t even notice you’re smiling as you do, and cove doesn’t have the guts to point it out, instead electing to turn away and pick out another shirt for you. 

you put the two shirts to the side and return your attention to the laundry pile, a small snort escaping you before you can cover your face. 

“what’s up?” cove asks, raising a brow. you snicker and point to a spot in the pile, where a few of cove’s underwear are visible. cove let’s out an embarrassed sound and quickly grabs at them, throwing them back into his laundry basket. he tosses one more shirt your way before clearing the rest of the laundry off the bed. “i think that’s enough!” his voice cracks at the end but you decide to be merciful and ignore it, thanking him for the clothes instead and asking if he wants to come over and see your work-in-progress nest. 

when you return to school after summer–your first day of high school!--cove anxiously sticks by you as you both wave goodbye to mr. holden before he drives off to his shop. after you presented, his father told him to look out for you–a young omega is a target for new and seasoned alphas alike–and even if you would only be on school grounds for majority of the day, anywhere that wasn’t sunset bird suddenly made cove hyper-aware of how others looked at you; especially upperclassmen alphas. it didn’t help that he was a late bloomer who still hasn’t presented yet, as it made him feel like a younger kid who wouldn’t be able to defend you if need be, despite his height and athletic build. 

the two of you hang around outside the school building, not wanting to overwhelm your nose with the amount of presented alphas and omegas within before it was time. cove sympathized with you, as even without presenting, his nose had always been pretty keen and for some reason he had a weird feeling in his gut since he woke up this morning. still, even waiting outside hardly comforts him as he watches alphas look at you as they pass by or sit outside. cove holds your hand–whether for your sake or his is debatable–and groans when the bell rings, warning students they have five minutes to get to class. 

“do we have to go?” he practically whines as the others outside make their way into the building. 

“we don’t wanna be late on the first day,” you say, chuckling at his behavior. 

“we’re freshmen–we can just tell them we got lost,” he shrugs. despite that, he relents and stands from his seat along with you. he puts both hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eyes. “text me if anything happens, okay? if anyone makes you uncomfortable or anything, i’ll come over, even if i’m in class.” you don’t doubt he would–he’s your best friend and didn’t care too much about school so long as he passed. 

“alright,” you nod. cove hesitates for a moment before pulling you into a hug and you can feel how worried he is to be apart from you in such a big, new school and your perceived vulnerability. if only you had the same schedules, but unfortunately, your counselors didn’t get the memo that you two were a package deal. 

cove gives you another squeeze as you hug him back and suddenly something catches your nose, making you sniff a few times. led by your senses, you bury your nose into the side of cove’s neck, making him yelp and pull back in surprise. 

“what are you doing?” he squeaks out. you don’t have the mind to be embarrassed as you look up at him in surprise. 

“cove,” you say with wide eyes. “i think you just presented. i think you’re an alpha.” cove’s eyes match yours. 

“wait- seriously?” he gapes. “wha- how? just now? an alpha.” instead of answering, you pull the collar of your top to your nose and inhale.

“... and i think you just scented me,” you add. cove’s face is pink at that revelation and before he can continue sputtering and apologizing, the second bell rings, meaning the two of you are officially late to your first classes. you grab cove’s arm and all but drag him into the school.

“hey, wait!” cove’s brain catches up and he matches your steps. “uh- what now?”

“now, we go to class,” you say. “we can talk about this all at lunch, but i really don’t wanna be later than we are.” you flash him a grin. “besides, since you’ve scented me, i’m sure no other alpha’s gonna wanna come near me, so that’s good, right?” cove blushes deeper but nods. 

“r-right. yeah. that’s good.” 

cove is beyond delighted to be an alpha. yeah, he wouldn’t have minded being a beta like his mom and his new friend terri, but being an alpha almost guaranteed that he could keep you safe from other alphas just by his scent laying a soft claim on you. 

so, after that first incident, it became routine for you to have cove’s scent on you. even now, in your sophomore year of high school, cove would scent you in the back of his dad’s car on the drive to school. cliff fully supported this morning routine out of concern for how high school alphas would act towards you without this kind of deterrent, even calling cove a ‘good kid’ for looking out for you so heavily. if only he knew cove’s actions were a little less platonic than he let on since the two of you confessed your mutual feelings at 13 (but even without being officially dating yet, cove was pretty sure his dad wouldn’t be surprised). 

summer of 2016 rolled around and now you were with cove on the steps outside his house, waiting for the new tenant(s) of the donnells’ former summer home. finally, the sound of a car grabs your attention, followed by the sight of a taxi turning into the street. 

“this has to be them, right?” cove asks, eyebrows raised. 

“the only people who come out here, live here,” you grin, a chuckle leaving your lips. “it has to be!” 

cove let out a small, surprised “oh” when the taxi door opened, revealing a young man around your age, dressed in black and white with swoopy hair to match.

“hello, folks,” the young man greets with a smooth voice. “who might you be?” 

“um- we’re the neighbors,” cove replies, only slightly recovered from the surprise. the new tenant’s smile grew in a cocky yet non-malicious way. 

“hallelujah,” he says. you and cove share a bewildered look before looking at the young man again, watching as he grabs his suitcase from the taxi and thanks the driver. when he saunters over, you and cove stand up from the steps. 

“i’m baxter ward,” the new neighbor, now known as baxter, says. “it’s excellent to meet you, neighbors.” he turns his attention to you and holds out his hand to shake. feeling no bad vibes from him–a sense of familiarity filling you instead–you hold your arms open for a hug instead, which baxter accepts without missing a beat. 

“welcome to sunset bird, baxter,” you say before introducing yourself. baxter greets you in kind as you both pull away from each other. 

“we’ve met before,” he says, making your boyfriend ask, “what?! when?” baxter continues to smile widely, head tilted slightly to the side as he studies your visage. “it’s embarrassing, but i haven’t remembered that part yet,” he admits with a cordial laugh while cove continues to stare in disbelief. “i’m getting there. don’t tell me. i know you want to, but do not. it’ll come to me.” he sniffs the air from his polite distance, trying to recall where he’s smelled you before, and suddenly recognition appears in his eyes. he announces his revelation with a snap of his fingers. “the cypress, at the summer soiree! of course. mm, that had to have been before any regionals, so, ah, at the time i was about fourteen years old. that makes it… five years ago from now, right?” cove’s mouth fell open. 

“are you kidding me?” your boyfriend asks with a raised eyebrow. “is he serious? did you really meet this guy at that country club five years ago?”

“yeah,” you say with a small, disbelieving smile–a little speechless about said guy being right in front of you again. “i told you about him, remember? the mysterious boy who danced with me that night? lee was all over that story.” cove’s eyes widen a little more, both in surprise and realization. he let’s out another little “oh” before baxter speaks again. 

“it’s good not to forget a face,” he says. “you see, my parents are members of the cypress. they happened to be passing through on a trip across different states when they heard about the event. funnily enough, the entire reason they joined was for the connections they could make with other members there. looks like that perk has finally hit for me too. originally, i thought it was only any good since i could occasionally dance there.”

“dance?” cove asks. 

“yes,” baxter nods. “i’m a ballroom dancer. ah- forgive me. i started talking about myself before you even had the chance to introduce yourself.” he holds out his hand for cove to shake. you see your boyfriend straighten up to his full height–on purpose or not, you can’t tell–as he shakes baxter’s hand, eyeing him carefully. 

“i’m cove,” he says. “i don’t know much about dancing, but that’s pretty cool.” 

“you have a wonderful name,” baxter grins. “dancing isn’t hard once you get the basics down.” cove doesn’t seem convinced, raising a skeptical brow once more. baxter decides to continue with that same cocky grin. “well, if either of you are looking for a partner, i’m available.” cove involuntarily stiffens, instinctively pulling you closer by the waist. 

“i already have a partner,” he says, relaxing as you lean into his side with a hand on his torso. “(y/n) is the only one i’d wanna dance with. she’s my girlfriend."

“you’re both together?” baxter asks with only a little surprise.

“yeah, we are,” you confirm with a soft smile. 

“now that’s crushing; but makes sense,” he says with a small chuckle. “i got here too late. should’ve taken a semester off sooner.” cove’s smile flattens out and his eyes narrow at his new neighbor. you can’t help but snort at the sudden flare-up of his scent, lightly patting your hand on his chest. on the other hand, baxter looks unoffended, instead offering another apologetic smile. “that’s a joke,” he clarifies. “really, i didn’t mean to intrude on anything you have with the offer.” cove reels in control of his scent, placated. 

“i’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” you chirp with a cheeky smile, giggling to yourself as cove rolls his eyes with an exasperated smirk and a huff through his nose at your agreement coming right after his refusal. 

“i really am qualified to give lessons,” baxter says, looking at cove for his blessing. 

“yeah, it’s fine,” cove relents, playfully pinching your side. “so, um. what made you decide on sunset bird?” 

“oh, yes,” baxter nods, taking in the question. “well, my parents rented a condo so i had a place to stay while i’m off for a semester from college and not living in the dorms.” there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he continues. “ideally, they wanted to send me somewhere that wasn’t too exciting, but, lucky for me, they picked the wrong street. considering the two of you live here.” baxter then preemptively lifts his hands up in front of his chest, giving the gesture for meaning no harm. “it’s nice not to be the only one my age around the neighborhood for an entire summer, nothing more.” 

“you could’ve phrased it like that in the first place,” cove sighs. 

“i don't feel the need to keep words of praise to myself, but they’re not romantic come-ons,” baxter explains. “i see that you two are very much a committed pair. i’d like to be friends, if we can. but that’s all.” 

“it’s… okay,” cove says with a small smile, an attempt at friendliness. on the other hand, you can’t help but grin. 

“i’m finding it pretty entertaining.” baxter laughs at that, due to your own amusement or the difference in how you and your beloved receive him you don’t know.

“glad we’re working things out,” he says. shifting his weight to his other foot, baxter tries to move forward. “so, which condo is yours? how long have you been living together?” 

“oh- no!” cove sputters again, making you laugh. “we’re… we’re both your neighbors, but we live in different houses with our parents.” the two of you point to your homes directly across the street from each other with your free hands. 

“you’re neighbors who started dating?” baxter asks with wide eyes before sighing with a sort of satisfied smile. “what a couple of lovebirds. you’re the backbone of romantic society! honestly, i hope you never break up. if you can make it work, there might be a chance for the rest of us.” cove sighs in exasperation despite the bit of amusement on his face. baxter continues, “well, if either of you are free, i’d be thrilled to hang out this summer, but we can save the schedule talk for later. goodbye for today.” he gives you both a small nod and a dazzling smile. you and cove both give your “bye”s and the newcomer turns around to go to his new, temporary home with his belongings. 

with him out of the scene, coves lets out a long breath. 

“well,” he says, looking at you with a tired smile. “i don’t know how i’m gonna explain that guy to my dad.” you burst into a fit of laughter trying to imagine the conversation. “at least the job is done. we saw the new neighbor, and now we can go meet up with terri and miranda.”

“yeah, we should get going,” you nod. as you and cove start to walk up the street, you feel him give your waist another squeeze, his arm not having left you at all since he first placed it. 

“don’t think i’ve forgotten about how much of a brat you were just a minute ago,” he smirks. “i’ll pay you back eventually.” 

“i have no clue what you’re talking about,” you snicker, only for cove to stop walking and pull you into his chest, both arms now wrapped around you. he holds you in a tight embrace as he takes his time rubbing the sides of his neck against yours. 

“i should’ve scented you the moment you crossed the street,” you hear him mutter, making you snort at his protectiveness–or is it possessiveness? either way, you can’t say you hate it when you tilt your head to give him easier access. miranda and terri may have to wait a little longer. 

it’s a week after your shared heat/rut that cove decides to bring it up. the two of you have been engaged for some time now and he feels like he might just burst. 

“you want to bond?” you repeat, a little slack-jawed. “now?”

“yes,” he nods firmly despite the apprehensive look on his face and the awkward squirming in his seat. “not unless you do, of course. but i’ve been thinking about it a lot these past few months, even before we got engaged, and… a-and it was all i could think about doing during- …during my rut.” his face goes even redder at that admission but he forces himself to maintain eye contact with you. “we’re already engaged and honestly… i don’t wanna wait until after the wedding. i wanna be yours, forever, now.” you can’t help the blush that creeps up your neck nor  the way your heart pounds, just like you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips. 

“okay,” you breathe out softly, as if not trying to scare your fiancé. “okay. i wanna bond too. i’m ready.” 

“r-really?!” cove squeaks out, surprised you agreed so soon. “are you sure?” you chuckle, nodding. 

“yup. positive,” you affirm with a smile. “do you wanna go first?” cove gulps as you run a hand through your hair, slightly moving it away from your neck. you bite your lip to keep from laughing when you see the look on his face: eyes wide and focused on your neck while his mouth is slightly open, maybe even close to drooling. 

without even responding, cove leans towards you, his strong arms simultaneously pulling you into his lap. he looks you in the eyes again and without a trace of doubt on your face, he smiles shyly before opening his mouth and going right for your closest scent gland. you wince and let out a whimper as you feel his teeth sink in, but you know it has to be done–the bite needs to be strong enough to bleed in order to leave a proper mark. cove gently rubs over your back when he feels you wince, a silent apology for the pain as he gently releases your neck and laps up the drops of blood that remain. 

“you did so good,” he says softly, licking and kissing at the new mark on your neck. you meet his eyes for a moment to see the tears welling up, your softie alpha crumbling at how permanent your intertwined lives have become, before he returns to burying his face in your neck and soothing the purposeful wound. “thank you.” 

“don’t thank me yet,” you muse, running a hand through his seafoam locks. “i still have to mark you.” 

“i know,” he says with a watery chuckle. “and i’ll thank you again after that. just… in a moment. just let me finish with the blood. i don’t like seeing you hurt, even if it’s for this. but thank you for trusting me to do this. for wanting to be with me forever and stuff. for being with me all this time.” 

“you’re always thanking me,” you laugh, now just as watery as his voice. “you did the same thing during the proposal.” 

“i know,” he repeats, looking at you with a smile despite the tears now falling down his cheeks. “i just have a lot to be thankful for when it comes to you. and i want you to know that. how much i appreciate you and need you and… and love you. i love you so much. and thanks to you, i know it’s not ‘too much’.” 

“i love you too,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to not break if you spoke any louder.

“i know.”

BONUS my omegaverse hcs

alphas: liz, cove, cliff, gregorio, jorge

omegas: noelani, lee, miranda, derek, irene, shiloh

betas: pamela, kyra, terry, baxter, nicolas, jeremy

[creatchie8]

Matching Set

Summary: It was easy to hide away from telling people your truth, until you met a certain man on a Sunday night at the bar you worked at.

Pairing: Bob Floyd/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! (18+), explicit smut, oral sex, p in v sex

Word Count: 21,000

10:38 PM, Sunday

“You know…” You said as you squeezed the dish sponge under the hot water at the double stainless steel sink, “You really treated your guy friend like total shit back there.” 

You half jokingly laughed to Penny as you two finished up tonight's dishes. Baked mac and cheese. Incredibly tasty buy oh so cemented to the glassware you were slaving away at. 

Penny chuckled at your comment as she expertly dried some deep blue drinking glasses with a lemon yellow rag, “He should have paid attention to my rules. It's not my fault he can't read.” She grinned devilishly and you just rolled your eyes. 

You had heard your aunt talk a few times about Maverick, how he was sweet but at the same time an ignorant fuck. But truthfully, that is all you could get out of her. She chalked it up every time to an old flame, but you suspected that it was always still dimly lit within her by the faint fondness that lingered in her eyes. 

Even when she would say the ‘ignorant fuck’ part she often smiled as if she was enjoying a sweet moment. 

The final bit of cheesy crust dissolved within the now seemingly boiling water and you were free. Humming as you handed the glassware off to Penny to dry and then tossing your sponge next to the soap dispenser. The dish cloth was rough as you dried your hands with it, then handing it to Penny to dry hers off next. 

Nights like this were nice. 

Not that you didn't like it when sweet Amelia hung around you two instead of scurrying off to get out of chores, but being alone to talk about ‘grown up stuff’ was refreshing. The creamy yellow kitchen light flickered slightly as the two of you settled back down at the table again. 

You were really blessed to live in a nice house like this, especially with people who loved you.

Penny propped her head up on her palm as she looked at you, “You seemed to get along really well with that girl back there.” she smiled. 

Your fingers were busy picking at a knob in the wood grain, “Phoenix? Oh yeah. I don't even know what got into me.” You reminisced about the night, “She just ordered a beer and then we started talking. She's really funny.” You leaned back in the wooden chair and laughed, “She’s here on some top secret mission. Even when she got tipsy she still wouldn't tell me what it was about.” 

Every so often a woman in uniform will come and hang at The Hard Deck. It is always refreshing when they do, especially when they are as sweet as Phoenix is. She came in with a few people trailing behind her, all of them comfortably chatting. You noticed that Phoenix seemed to lead them, not in a commanding way, but in a trustworthy way that really intrigued you. 

Maybe her trustworthy aura and warm smile is what got you talking to her so quickly, because soon after she ordered a beer you two exchanged a greeting and some more conversation that led to her asking if you worked tomorrow night, then inviting you to hang out with her and her friends when you could get a chance.  

“You know what I say about slacking on the job, hun.” Penny tsked and shook her head. 

You knew she didn't mean it. Deep down she was happy that you were socializing. 

Especially when you haven't found a friend to hang around since you got here, and you have been here since when? A freshman in university, and now you are twenty-two with your aunt and a fourteen year old girl as your two best friends. You cringed at the thought. 

Both of your heads perked up at the sound of laughs coming from said teenager’s room.

Still cringing, you heaved yourself up and out of the chair, the legs squeaking against the floor as you pushed it back into the table. “I better head off to bed. Don't let Amelia bully you into letting her stay up later.” you smirked and left the kitchen, but not before you heard Penny snort, “What? But I wanna be a fun mom!” she whined sarcastically and got up herself. 

The door to your bedroom was cracked slightly open like how you left it this afternoon before you went to work at The Hard Deck. It was smaller compared to the other two rooms, but that is because before you came here it used to be an office. 

Penny had insisted multiple times that Amelia did not need her huge room, that it would go to much better use if you had it. But honestly, you loved the reclusiveness of your room. It was tucked away at the end of the hall next to the downstairs bathroom.

An optimal spot to claim the bathroom first on busy school mornings. 

Thank god you didn’t live with your little brother anymore. It was like he had a sixth sense when you would attempt to go to the bathroom, always running out of wherever he was hiding at breakneck speed to push you out of the way (he grew about a foot and a half at eleven and has had a mischievous personality since four) and locked the door. 

You flipped on the light switch and flopped into bed, still smelling like stale beer and cheap military man cologne. You should take a shower, like, now. Groaning as you kicked off your shoes, you sat up and looked with heavy lids around the decorated room. Much more homey than all your other usually shared rooms growing up. 

The bedtime checklist formed in your head as you sat there in heavy silence. With the window cracked a bit you could hear the waves crashing outside, deep blue and full of memories from your time in California. 

Tonight was fun. You weren't going to doubt the laughs you had with Phoenix and her other teammates she introduced you to, even if you did only stay behind the bar and serve them alcohol and bar food. 

The Hard Deck catered to all things military, and with that comes two main reactions to a young woman like you serving alcohol. Being completely ignored or basically being immediately proposed to by the single (and sometimes taken) men. You had gotten used to it at this point. 

How to act (sweet), how to dress (revealing, but leaving much up to the imagination), just to get a little something extra added to the tip jar (Navy men are bad tippers so it wasn't much more). 

Sighing as you got up and strode over to your closet and picked out the first comfortable thing you found. Along you brought a shower cap and body lotion to the bathroom. You saw somewhere online that your hair would get healthier if you didnt wash it super often, and that you should be refreshing it with dry shampoo. 

It worked for thousands of other people, so why not you? 

In the bathroom you undressed and cranked the shower handle until you were sure it was set at a hot temperature. It was always a gamble with the downstairs bathroom. 

While you waited you leaned against the white wood vanity and looked at your reflection. Sometimes, you hate looking in the mirror. Maybe it wasn't the mirror, but instead your appearance you hated. Scars littered your body, nothing major but nicks that reminded you of a past life. Feeling angry and miserable, desperately searching for something to satisfy your craving. 

Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes and stopped touching the larger scar on your left hip, jerking your hand away like it burned you. 

God, you looked ridiculous with that shower cap on. No matter how far you slid it down or up your forehead it still looked laughable. Finally, you accepted defeat and shrugged, stepping into the now hot water. 

Like most people, the shower is a safe space. No one was going to barge in on you asking if you could help them write their book report or ask if you could pick up a shift because one of the servers caught mono. 

At least, it hasn't happened yet. 

As you washed your body you mentally went over the names of people Phoenix briefly introduced to you at a distance from where she sat at the bar. 

Fanboy had a really nice smile, almost boyish and cheeky. Payback is friends with him, and has a great booming laugh. 

When Phoenix tried to introduce Hangman and his buddy Coyote, your nose wrinkled in disgust, causing her to laugh at you, taking they had already introduced themselves to you.  

Unfortunately, Hangman especially had. Flirting with you shamelessly to a point where you dropped your sweet customer service voice and instead replaced it with a stern snap of, “Get off of my counter and out of my face.” Hangman scoffed and pushed himself off where he was leaning over the bar and sauntered over to the pool table to join Coyote. 

Phoenix rolled her eyes in disgust as you told the story and shook her head in disbelief, “He’s a fucking shit head for sure. I won't doubt he’ll get us all killed ” she grumbled before she took a long swig of her drink. 

She introduced her WSO last, whose callsign was Bob. Even now in the steamy shower you still think it is an odd callsign. It is simple and easy to say for sure, which is better than a complicated one you guess. 

Bob’s glasses were the first thing that caught your attention, as not many who flew the aircraft needed glasses. 

You already knew Goose’s kid, Rooster, who had always been nice to you. Well, more than nice to you. You had known him since you had been born, his family close to yours especially after his dad’s passing. He was always like a big brother to you, one who teased you but also made an effort to check in on you when you were struggling.

At this point you were just wasting water and decided to get out. The mirrors were steamy before you wiped them down with a light blue fluffy towel that came from the shelf beside the shower. After you dried yourself thoroughly, you ripped the shower cap off and tossed it onto the counter along with your things. 

Even though you hated going to bed sticky, you vowed to always put lotion on after showers because of how dried out your skin got due to the hot temperature of the water. 

It's a win lose situation.

Bob had gotten to the bar a little after Hangman and Coyote, but before it had gotten terribly busy. Never did you see him come in, and now that you think about it, you never saw him leave either. But he sure caught your attention. 

You were thinking no one was at the bar so you crouched down next to the ice maker with the metal scoop in your hand, ready to do some major damage to the giant chunks that didn't separate. 

The metal against the ice had this incredibly satisfying crunching noise, like little shards of glass. 

You tossed the scoop with a clang into the ice maker after you had thoroughly finished the massacre and turned around, wiping your wet hands on your jean capris. Looking up from your hands you jolted in surprise as there was a man standing directly on the other side of the bar looking at you intently. 

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry,” you breathed, “I didn't even see you come in. What can I get you?” Your hand goes to your chest in an attempt to calm your beating heart.

The man looks startled too, then immediately apologetic, “I’m sorry ma’am, I haven't been here for long.” He visibly gulped, then proceeded to open and close his mouth a few times before saying, “Peanuts?” You blinked at him and his cheeks immediately flush a bright red, “Oh uh.. Nevermind.” He says quickly and goes to turn around.

“Wait! Like, peanuts to eat?” You ask and he nods, the corners of his mouth quirking up the slightest bit. “I have peanuts with the shells still on, it's messy though.” You explain as you raise one eyebrow slightly and he nods again.

 “That is alright with me, ma’am. Thank you.” He says as he pushes his silver glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He was slimmer than most of the meat heads who usually frequented the bar. In fact, you had never seen him here before. His Naval uniform was pressed neatly, especially around the collar where you could see his white undershirt peeking above the top buttons. You look at his name plate and see the last name ‘Floyd’. 

Okay, nothing to write home about, you thought as you turned to the back of the bar and opened one of the bottom wood cabinets that kept the commercial cardboard box with the peanuts. Grabbing one of the matching cups, you note the other things within the space that are unbelievably messy. 

You'll have to clean it up later.

He’s kept his gaze on you this entire time. Normally they don't have the patience to wait a minute or two so you have to chase them down to hand them what they ordered. This pulls a huff and a smile from you. His dirty blond hair is neatly combed over to the side, and not in a greasy way. In a freshly showered way. 

He is clean shaven and smells good. 

Handing over the full cup, you ask him if he needs anything else. He shakes his head no, smiling at you. “Have a good night, ma’am.” His crooked smile was handsome, and his southern accent was intriguing.

When Bradley showed up after everyone, it brought a huge smile to your face. He was searching the crowds till he saw you and made a beeline to where you stood behind the counter. Of course out of his pressed khakis and in a Hawaiian button up.  

“So, are you willing to tell me more about this top secret mission?” You tease, playfully pushing at his broad shoulder. Bradley swatted away your hand, shaking his head. You never knew his dad but gosh, from all the old photos you had seen, Bradley was shaping up to be his exact replica. 

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, “I take it you already tried to pry it out of some poor unsuspecting soldier?” He asked and you solemnly nodded, putting on a show. It made your heart ache that he had eventually grown away from your family, especially after his mother had passed. When you heard the news it was like your heart had sunk through your chest and to the floor. 

“Yeah… Phoenix over there is much too smart for my mind tricks.” Your comment made Bradley laugh, glancing over to his new teammates by the pool table. Then, you exchanged a few pleasantries before you served him his alcohol of choice and sent him on his merry way. 

Though, the certain man you were looking for had his body hidden behind one of the larger support beams. You knew he was there by the way he shifted his body and eventually took Phoenix's pool stick. Fanboy and him seemed to click instantly, when the game wasn't grabbing his attention, Bob leaned towards the shorter man and conversed intently with him. 

At the piano, you admired him more. The goofy way he swung his head to the music, how easily his body interacted with Phoenix's when she tried to get him to dance more, you were captivated by the truly human movement of him.  

Shaking your head brought you back to reality. Bob was a strange one. Once your skin is freshly moisturized and ready to get into clean sheets, you proceed to gather your things. A sudden knock at the bathroom door startled you, halting your movements so you could stare at the closed door. 

“Hun? Can I ask a favor of you?”

A trapped sigh left your lips at the sound of your aunt’s voice. 

“Of course, what is it?” You ask through the door, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Tomorrow, when you go running, could you please take the trash can out to the street? I have to take Amelia to school early and knowing how difficult it will be to get her out of bed I will probably forget.” She laughed, and you snorted, knowing that Penny is not exaggerating how grouchy her daughter is in the morning.

“Totally, good luck with her.” You respond, earning another laugh from Penny. The floor creaks a few seconds later and that is your signal to continue like normal. 

After cleaning up the bathroom before heading to bed, you think about what the next night will bring in the darkness of your room. 

Penny would let you play a game of pool or two with Phoenix, especially because she seemed to be your first real friend in years. 

If it's not too busy of course. 

__________________

6:03 AM, Monday

Waking up after a very late night was rough. Even more rough when you’re waking up at six o'clock in the morning. 

Why do you do this to yourself? 

You're not proving anything to anyone when you wake up at ungodly hours of the morning just to go on a run. But you just do. Running on Mondays and Wednesdays had become a routine ever since you took that Anatomy and Physiology class your sophomore year. You noticed after a while that it hurt less and made you eventually feel better. 

So if you stopped now you would lose your streak and have the possibility of making you feel like shit the rest of your life. 

Maybe you were just overthinking it now.

Morning runs were just better in a way. You tried running at night when it got cooler, but even with two pepper sprays, you were still paranoid of all the things that would possibly happen to you. The sunrise was also too beautiful to miss, you looked forward to seeing it every time. You had to remind yourself that although it is gorgeous, you do not need to take up all your photo space on your phone with millions of pictures of the ombre sunrise. 

Once all of your running gear was on, you snugly put in your earbuds and locked the door behind you. The trash can was a little difficult to drag to the side of the road, same with the recycling. The driveway was slanted upwards going towards the main road, as the house was on a little bit of a slant. Moving to California was the best idea you've ever had in your entire life. The soft sand, the crisp sea, everything just looked perfect when you ran alone. 

It was like the downstairs bathroom. No one to ask you what outfit looks good for a school dance, no one to ask to help fill out the accounting books for The Hard Deck.

Amelia was still asleep and Penny had absolutely no desire to run, so it was just you. 

Soon, your nose started to drip due to the cool air around you and you wiped it on your light sport jacket sleeve as you jogged.

Teenage you would be in shock how you turned out. 

You were the textbook definition of a wild child. Sneaking out to meet boys older than you, skipping school for weeks at a time. You basically became an addict in tenth grade, and all you wanted to do was leave home. The people you surrounded yourself with did not help in the slightest. You all fed off each other and encouraged one another to continue down a self destructive lifestyle. 

If your folks hadn’t checked you into rehab, you would be dead by now, and that is ultimately what younger you wanted, was to be dead.

For the longest time you resented your parents for it. Resented them for helping you get better, and for a while you refused to even look at them when they came and saw you, even ignoring your brother who at the time was probably too young to understand why his big sister had gone away. 

The hate in your heart was too great at the time to realize that they only wanted to help you. 

You checked your watch, which was a pre-graduation gift from Penny. To be honest, you're not much of a watch wearer, but you'd wear it for her. Slowing down to a stop, you looked at the rising sun from the gritty sidewalk as you put your hands on your hips. 

It was the barrier between the start of the sand and the residential neighborhood road. 

Your lungs burned, which was a side effect from the vigorous exercise and the constant state of burning California always seemed to be in, especially at this time of year. Turning on the news was a bore now. Nothing new except for fires, fires, fires. 

But, the ocean was absolutely stunning, as it always is. Stunning in the way it shimmered like a billion little fireflies, the way it smelled (salty, like iodine), and felt (cool humidity kissing your skin). Without realizing it, you found yourself walking across the sand and down to the shore. 

Stopping before the wet earth, you took off your running shoes and socks to hold them in your left hand. 

It was freezing on your feet, but that is exactly what you needed. It shocked you back to reality, back to the ache in your heart you always have had. The water was up to your knees now and you stopped, staring into the horizon. 

Bright, glimmering, water constantly warping the reflection. 

How did you go from the life of the party to this sad, depressing woman? Sure, you weren't getting blackout drunk every night and being reckless, but now all your days consist of the same three things.

School. Work. Sleep. Repeat.

Senior year will do that to you, but it won't last forever, Penny always tells you in her motherly voice. You just have to get through this semester then next, then you'll be free to get a job other than The Hard Deck, and maybe, just maybe find a place. 

But you never know in a state like California, where the prices are always rising. 

You were always tense too. Like a rubber band constantly at its max. Did masturbation count as sex? If not, you were totally a born again virgin. University did not have a good dating pool, because all but two of your classes were online so you were never there. 

The Hard Deck was an extremely shallow dating pool, despite all of the flirtatious men throwing themselves at you. But, they would fuck anything with a pulse. 

Bob flicks into your mind, and the sudden thought of him startles you. He has really nice hands, you noticed how neat his nails were when you handed him his cup of peanuts. 

A few times he lingered near the bar, patiently waiting for you to get to him, never irritated by the long line of people in front of him. When he smiled at you, it was infectious. Never in your life had you been so eager to serve people to get to a specific customer. He had asked for Dr. Pepper with a few pumps of nonalcoholic raspberry syrup, so you pulled out your soda gun and a glass, making light conversation about the projected weather for the rest of the week. 

A lull happened in the conversation while you were measuring out the syrup, the both of you completely focused on the drink. 

“Your bracelets are very nice.” Bob said suddenly, catching you off guard.

“Oh, thanks!” You smiled and grabbed a clean bar spoon, “All Walmart I’m afraid, nothing designer here.” You laughed and gestured to your wrist where the metal chains hung. He laughed too, causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest. 

The veins in his forearms snaked up to his biceps and under his sleeves. Bob was handsome in a classical way. Like he would be a lord in some period drama tv show. 

You definitely were not staring intently at the muscles in his arms when he was playing pool. Totally not fixed on the way his shoulders pulled at the fabric and made it stretch over them when he leaned down to take a shot. 

When he blushed, it didn’t just stop at his cheeks. It trails down his neck and probably down his chest. 

Your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, you have to stop thinking about this right now. Bob and you didn't even know each other! What makes it even worse is you are definitely going to see him tonight at the bar. 

This is so fucked up, and you are for sure a sad lonely born again virgin. 

The running shoes squelched just slightly as you put your feet in them after you got out of the water. Your legs were numb. The socks didn't do a very good job of soaking up the water on your feet but you didn't care. All you cared about was getting back home fast, even if you puke from the effort. 

You had to get him out of your head. 

Unfortunately, the puking did not happen when you got back to the house. You had hoped slightly that you would have, because then you could feign sickness and get out of going to work tonight. But it was easier pulling the two waste bins down the cement slope and to the side of the house. 

“Penny! Penny, I'm home!” You shouted as you sorted through the mail on the kitchen table. Just bills, nothing special. Except for a neon orange sticky note on the fridge that caught your eye as you looked up. 

Going to the grocery store,

text me if you need anything. 

XOXO Penny

“You know, she could have just texted me that.” You chuckle to yourself as you walk down the hall and to your room. Amelia had already gone to school so you were completely alone in the house, which was usual for this time of day. 

Classes and homework dragged by slowly for the next few hours. Not all of your classes had set online meeting times but some did, like the class you were in now. Thankfully, the teacher allows students to keep their mic and video off so no one has to see your disgruntled self doing anything but paying attention. 

You then had a quick zoom meeting with your advisor, who assured you that you are on the right path to graduate this upcoming semester, spring. She helped you pick out the final classes needed to graduate and she sent you on your merry way. 

It was finally happening. All the hard work you spent on each and every class was finally paying off, even if you did take an extra year to graduate. From your office chair you could see your tiny little closet that had no door, and you were already mentally picking out what you wanted to wear with your cap and gown. It would have to match navy and yellow, as those were school colors of U of C San Diego. 

You should take Amelia into the city and go dress shopping with her when you get the time. 

Did Bob ever go to college? It seemed unlikely by how young he looked. Maybe he was taking some online classes through like Purdue, weren't they known for being able to do that kind of thing? You had seen so many commercials for it and even considered applying there yourself before getting a good scholarship to U of C San Diego. 

The next few hours drag by and your eyes are tired from reading some guy’s thesis on… something. You weren't sure at this point. The front door opens and slams shut before you hear feet running to your bedroom door. Two-thirty, Amelia’s home. You whip around to your bed and scan the room for inappropriate objects Amelia might see and you sigh in relief as you find none. 

The bedroom door swings open and you smile at the fourteen year old in your doorway. 

She grins back and goes to jump on your bed, which she swears is the comfiest place in the whole house. 

“Hey girly, no shoes on the bed.” You warn as she starts climbing up onto it. She complies and kicks off her sneakers before completely messing up your blankets in an attempt to get comfy. 

“How was school? Wasn't it one of your teachers' last days?” You ask as you turn to your desk and shut off your laptop.

“Mrs. Panchak? Yeah she's having her baby. I dont think I'm going to miss her though.” she says, her eyes on her phone, “School was fine. Nothing special, but Julia got her braces on over the weekend. She said they hurt even today.” Amelia mumbles off handedly, clearly distracted by something on her phone. 

Penny liked to tease her for how glued she is to it, but you're just glad she has fun chatting with her friends even after the school day ends. 

You slap your thighs and get up to stretch, your shoulders popping from being hunched over for the past however long. “Hey, where’s your mom?” You ask, scrunching your eyebrows. Penny hadn't come in yet, and you didn't notice because of school.

“Out with the boat, she texted me a while ago.” Amelia says and moves over so you can sit next to her. 

“So how come she texts you can not me?” You ask, feigning hurt and Amelia shrugs, laughing, “Maybe she likes me more than you?” Groaning in fake pain you lean heavily on Amelia who laughs harder and then proceeds to push you off of her. 

After bugging Amelia with more questions about school, you get up and convince her to come into the kitchen with you. Amelia requests a snack without chicken in it, as she had school lunch and today it was a ‘soggy gross chicken thing’ in her words. So you decide to make cheese quesadillas. 

Colby jack for her and pepper jack for you. Amelia shows you funny videos on her phone while the two of you eat. After she runs out of videos to show you, Amelia then goes on to show you her wishlist on some clothing websites, asking if her mom would buy it for her or if she had to do more chores to get money. 

She rolled her eyes so hard you thought they would get stuck in the back of her head when you unfortunately broke the news to her that Penny definitely would not be buying her the clothes without chores. 

Finally, it is time to head over to the bar. It opens at five and you like to be there at least half an hour early to set up. Penny is not too fond of the idea of Amelia staying home alone for too long, despite her daughter’s pleadings. So she regularly comes with you to do her homework at the bar. 

Thankfully, your hair wasn't a huge mess so you just spritzed that dry shampoo into your roots and mussed it around a bit before changing into some comfy jeans (that hugged your ass nicely) and a pretty knitted blouse that wouldn't make you too hot or cold while working. Then of course your trusty work sneakers. 

They were actually marketed as nurses shoes online but that drew you in even more at the prospect of not wanting to chop your feet off at the end of every shift because they hurt so bad. So far, they worked pretty dang well. 

The two of you hopped into your car and drove to The Hard Deck after you made sure Amelia took her backpack with so she could get some work done while she was there. It was always so weird to see the bar completely deserted. Your car was the only one there in the tiny parking lot as the two of you walked up to the double doors. 

You let Amelia unlock them as she does every time she comes with you and the two of you walk in, breathing the scent of stale beer and wood. 

Thankfully, Amelia gets straight to work at the bar so you have time to prepare for the upcoming night. There was always so much to be done. 

A while later, the doors open and a man comes in, who you then recognize to be Maverick. You smile and finish wiping down the table you were working on.

“You know, the bar doesn't open until five, Mav.” You chuckle as he walks over to you. 

“I know, I was just here to give your aunt something, is she here?” he asks as he pulls out a wad of cash from his jacket pocket. Your eyes widen at the sight and you take the tiniest step back, “Woah, you really didn't need to bring that here, I’m serious.”

“No, I insist.” Mav says firmly and hands over the cash to you. 

You look up at him apologetically, “Thank you, I will let her know you came. She's going to be here a bit after five, and you're welcome to stay.” You offer as you walk over to the till and start placing the bills in their rightful place, then make sure Penny closed his tab last night. 

“I think I might come back a bit later, nice seeing you again.” He smiles and leaves the two of you in the empty bar after talking to Amelia for a little bit, obviously amazed at how big she had gotten since the last time he had seen her. 

__________________

6:24 PM, Monday

Oldies music and the conversations of people rang in your ears as you and Penny whirled around one another, serving people from all sides of the bar, opening tabs, and cleaning up spilled drinks. It was unusually busy for a Monday night, there must be a lot of people in town. 

When you looked outside, the sun was setting, and it was just barely a sliver floating on the ocean. 

A bit ago you saw Phoenix through the crowd, her sharp elbows jabbing at people who pushed against her. She was followed by Payback and Fanboy. And Bob. Unfortunately. 

Your heart dropped straight through you as soon as you saw him, it was like a bucket of ice had been dropped on you. 

Why were you even acting this way? He had literally never done anything to you. Just asked for a couple of fucking peanuts and complimented your bracelets. Which you had made sure to wear tonight, for some reason. 

When your eyes meet Phoenix’s, she smiles a soft smile and dips her head in greeting before heading over to her spot at the pool tables. Her eyebrows had a crease in between them, as if something was deeply worrying her. Even though you too had smiled at her, it was quickly dropped as you had another customer snapping his fingers for your attention. 

What a fucking asshole. 

Half listening to his order, you watched the four of them settle at the pool table. They were all wearing civilian clothes tonight. It was interesting to see them all in outfits that expressed their own personalities. Like Bob. His long sleeve plaid button up sleeves were pushed over his elbows. 

The veins in his forearms were raised and the muscles there flexed as he played pool. 

You wondered how calloused his hands were from working. 

This was a mess. 

The night continued and Phoenix checked in on you a few times, always coming back to request more alcohol too. 

“Probably can't play pool tonight, huh?” Sipping on her drink as she sat in front of you, cleaning some shot glasses with a rag.

“Maybe later. You never know with Mondays. Sometimes they are completely dead, and others busy,” you look around, “like this.” Your lips pressed together in a thin smile as you place the dry glasses upside down on a clean dish towel. Phoenix tsked and downed her glass of pretty amber whiskey. 

She was drinking far more than last night, and so had the other people in her squad. 

Her cheeks were ruddy and a few strands of her beautiful dark hair brushed her shoulders where they escaped the knot of the back of her head. You dared not ask about today. Everyone was looking in pretty rough shape, and they all seemed to have one permanent crease between their brows that Phoenix sported. 

“So, is Bob a good partner?” you ask cautiously as you start placing the glasses under the bar, looking down so you can’t see her face. She shifts in her seat and leans her elbows on the counter.

“Yeah! He’s great. Real nice guy, super smart too. But he gets stepped on too easily, Hangman was giving him shit while we were flying today.” She scoffs, sounding annoyed. You look back up at her, a bit of relief washing through you that Bob is a confirmed nice man. 

“Jeez, like what was he saying to him?” You ask, still taken aback that a grown man would belittle and pick on another like a child. 

“Oh the normal dumb things. Snarky remarks about his glasses, his callsign too. Called him baby on board. God, what a freak. Like yes, Bob is a weird callsign, Robert is his real name so I feel kinda bad he didn't get a creative name.” Phoenix griped, clearly pissed off from today. It was actually almost funny how she was acting, the alcohol making her more animated and loose-lipped. 

“Someone needs to knock him down a peg.” You mutter and she nods in agreement. 

Phoenix asks for two more cups of the amber whiskey, eliciting a raised eyebrow from you. “Not for me.” She groans in an almost animated way, “I promised some others I would bring them back something too.” 

She was most definitely tipsy, not surprising after all the drinks she had tonight. Were the others getting drunk too? Looking over you saw that the lot of them were more relaxed than they were when they arrived, laughing freely with one another, and for once Hangman was not making snide remarks, but instead swinging his arm around Phoenix’s shoulders in a friendly manner when she arrived with his drink. 

Bob was relaxed too. A plastic water bottle in one hand and the other resting above his head and on one of the wooden support beams. He no longer stood straight and formal, but slouched slightly and leaned his weight on one foot. But god, his ass looked really nice in those bootcut jeans. 

The night went on and the crowd thinned out a bit. Penny was casually chatting with a regular when you came up beside her to put some liquor away. She stopped you with a hand on your elbow.

“Hey, I can hold down the ship if you wanna go over there and hang.” She nods in the direction of the pool table, where currently Phoenix is whipping the guys asses in the game. Smiling meekly as you finish putting away the bottles, you shrug, leaning on the counter next to her.

“I’d rather not. Feels awkward to barge in on their game.” Looking in their general direction, “Plus, they are all very much not sober, and I would have to become a sober driver-friend.” Penny looks at you in a confused way, like she had no clue why you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to finish work early and play a game of pool. A customer raps his knuckles on the bar top at the other end, so you smile sheepishly at her to go serve him. 

It’s not until a while later when you look up from organizing that damn peanut cupboard when you see the crew huddled around the jukebox, loudly arguing about music. It is not aggressive arguing, you breathe a sigh of relief at that. 

Turning your attention back to the many other shelves that needed the same deep organizing treatment. 

A whistle snaps you out of your cleaning trance and you stand up, knees creaking as you straighten them in your capris. You tilt your head to one side in an attempt to stretch it, as the concentration on the cupboards caused a crick in your neck. 

Quickly pasting on a cheery smile, you turn over your left shoulder to greet the customer standing at the bar. Your smile falters a bit as you realize it is Hangman who called you over, his white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin.

“What can I get for you?” You ask, your friendly demeanor slipping the tiniest bit.

“Not happy to see me?” Hangman asks, his signature smirk growing bigger.

“Well although you are charming, you aren't really my type.” You leaned on the countertop, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne. 

“Not your type?” Challenge rose in his eyes, “You haven't even met me darlin’.” 

“I’ve met enough of you to know that I am not coming home with you.” You say matter of factly, shifting your weight to one side. You could tell that despite your words of protest, Hangman took it as a game to play now.

“Not coming home with me?” He dropped his voice lower, a large warm hand catching your wrist, “Who said I wouldn't mind going to my truck?”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled your wrist back, his fingertips dragging along the skin of your hand. “Listen Hangman-”

“It’s Jake. Call me Jake.” He interrupted, drumming his fingers on the bar top. The yellow lights behind him made it look like a halo was surrounding him. You scoffed. 

“Jake,” You start, annoyed that he had cut you off, “It’s going to take a lot more than you batting your eyelashes to get in my pants.” You wrinkle your nose and hope the interaction between the two of you wasn't going to cause a scene. 

A hopeful glimmer shone in his eyes. “So, what will get me into-” Jake starts, interrupted by a heavy hand on his shoulder. The two of you look over his shoulder, both equally in shock as you see two familiar faces behind him.

“Dude, leave the lady alone. She has more to worry about than getting with your sorry ass.” Fanboy quipped, his dark eyes watching the two of you as he stood by Bob. As Hangman stood up to his full height and turned around, Bob’s hand fell from his shoulder. 

You could see his jaw muscles flexing as Hangman came nose to nose with him. You had expected Bob to shrink back, to let Hangman overpower him. But he stood his ground, fists clenching by his sides. It was like how cats act before a fight. Bristled and taught, their ears back as they stare each other down. 

“Hangman was just leaving!” You say quickly, exchanging a worried glance to Fanboy, who took the hint and pressed his palm to Hangman’s chest, which snapped both him and Bob out from their staring contest. 

“I’m cool, I’m cool.” Hangman assures Fanboy with a grimace, holding his hands up in defense as he backs away from the two of them, walking stiffly back to the pool table. 

Fanboy laughs and slaps Bob’s back, urging him to sit next to him at the bar as he sat in a seat in front of you.

“Jesus! I had no idea you had it in you.” Fanboy says, a huge smile on his face as Bob joined him, his confidence dissolved almost completely now. You smile at the two of them, trying to shake the nervousness from your body. “A beer for me and-” He looks at Bob who shakes his head with a tight smile, “Nothing for my friend here.” Fanboy says as his attention is turned back to you.

Nodding, you walk over to the cooler and pull it out, your legs slightly wobbly from the adrenaline rush you just experienced. The brown bottle was icy and wet in your hands before you dried it with a rag that was hanging halfway off the bartop. 

“You know, I was handling the situation just fine.” You said as you strode back over to the two of them, handing the uncapped beer to Fanboy who took a drink immediately upon placing it into his outstretched hand. Bob pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, placing his elbows and forearms on the bar. 

There is that blush again, kissing the tops of his ears and cheeks. You remembered what you thought about at the beach, how you wondered if the redness crept below his plaid top. 

“Just fine? Dude, he looked like he was going to eat you alive!” Fanboy laughs, nudging Bob with his elbow, “Plus, it was Romeo over here's idea. He saw you two and just about had an aneurysm!” Fanboy was rambling now and you laughed, turning your attention to Bob who looked utterly humiliated, eyes trained on his hands. 

“Well, thank you for looking out for me. But really, I had it under control.” You say and place a hand softly on Bob’s, his eyes quickly looking up into yours. Impossibly, his blush deepened and he gave you a soft unsure smile. Fanboy noticed the tension between the two of you and excused himself with a snicker. 

You watch him leave, brushing off what he might think about you and Bob.

“You sure I can't get anything for you?” You ask as you turn your attention back to Bob. The silver of his glasses glinted against the dim bar light, reflecting the tiniest bit onto his skin.

Once you had spent part of your summer in the middle of nowhere, Nevada with some extended family. The days were hot and long, baking the dry desert earth and plants. Sage was abundant there, the light green leaves clustering in thick patches along hiking trails. 

That is exactly what Bob smelled like, sun baked sage. 

His calloused hands shifted under yours, making you realize that yours was still resting on his. You remove them and shoot him an apologetic look. “No thank you ma’am. I hope you have a good rest of your night.” He says simply, tipping his head towards yours as a goodbye, that unsure smile still on his lips. 

“Wait!” You call out, maybe a little too loud as a few nearby heads turn to look at you momentarily before returning back to their own lives. 

Bob turns back around slowly, clearly confused as he makes his way back to you, wringing his hands together. That same yellow light that shone behind Jake was behind Bob, reflecting off the corners of his glasses. The halo was much more fitting for him. 

“I just have to ask, if you don't mind me asking.” Pausing, you watched him sit, “What does your callsign mean? It is just so different and I-” You cut yourself off as you stare into his eyes, “I am just curious.” You finish, observing his fidgety behavior. 

“It’s a long story.” He starts, “I am sure you are much too busy.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “I don't want to bother you.” 

Turning over your shoulder to Penny, you catch her eye and smile, “I’m gonna take a break, is that okay?” You ask and she nods, grinning at you before heading over to the computer situated in one of the corners of the bar top. 

“There. Not too busy now.” You felt confident when you looked at him, wiping your hands off on your jeans before heading to the little cut out exit and towards him. Bob was frozen where he was, seemingly shocked you were leaving your responsibilities to hear his story. Leaning on your elbow next to him, you asked, “Wanna stay in here or go outside? It’s cooled off now.” 

Bob ponders your question for a moment, looking around at all the people still left in the bar, “Outside I think, it's too hot in here.” You watch his Adam's apple jump before getting up. You lead the way to the doors outside, all your focus on what lies ahead and not the other people around you. 

It is as cool as you imagined, the humidity unmistakable and clinging to you. But the soft breeze felt nice on the deck. The door shut behind Bob, blocking out some of the noise inside. Pulling out a shabby plastic chair from an equally shabby table, you sit down and urge him to do the same. 

Dark water engulfs most of your sight when looking out towards the moon. Just a silver half and resting on a bed of clouds, like it is going to bed as well. Your gaze pulls from the sight and back to him, surprised he had been staring at you the whole time. 

“Do you like being a WSO? You must be pretty good at it since you are here.” You start, shifting under his gaze. The sharp surge of confidence was fading quickly. 

“Oh, uh, yeah I do. I have always been more into the technical side of things so it is really nice to be able to do that and be in the plane.” Bob answers, itching the side of his nose as he talks. The soft light made pretty reflections off his glasses. 

Nodding, you smiled at his answer. He was probably really smart in highschool… and college if he was in it. In general too, he looked smart. 

“So, Bob. How does one get that name?” Phoenix’s voice echos in your head, Snarky remarks about his glasses, his callsign too. Called him baby on board. God, what a freak… Quickly, you shoot him a genuine smile to let him know you were interested in his story, not here to humiliate him. 

“I uh- well-” He stutters, eyes downcast as he struggles to start, “Well I’ll just start like this, you know that one song?” He pauses and you raise an eyebrow, signaling him to go on. 

“You know, that one song by OutKast? B.O.B., Bombs Over Baghdad?” He asks, his voice wavering the tiniest bit. You nod, familiar with the song. It was released in two thousand, but made itself present to the American public on nine-eleven, becoming an anthem for war against the middle east. That’s all you really knew, it was referenced frequently in The Hard Deck when tensions were high between the two countries. Hell, even your dad had referenced it when you were growing up. 

“Yeah I do, I’ve heard it a few times, it is quite popular with the military, right?” You ask, your voice becoming quiet. It is and will always be a touchy subject for people here. 

“People made the correlation that Bob is a nickname for Robert, my real name, and it just stuck.” He says further, “But-” He adds quickly, as if he was trying to explain himself, “But, I want you to know that although it is what my callsign is, that song wasn’t originally made out to be pro-war. OutKast is a very anti-war band.” 

The crashing waves were soft behind his voice, it was accompanying him like an instrument. 

Bob shifts in his chair, his eyes wide and unmoving from your face like an owl, “I prefer to think of myself as the interpretation that came out before uhm, nine-eleven.” His voice had gotten quiet too. 

Nodding, a light smile returned to your face, “No, I totally get it. I could see how confusing it is having that callsign when it is so iconic in the military but not for the reason you personally want it to be.” Bob visibly relaxed at your words, his tense shoulders slumping to their normal position. He nods and hums in agreement. It was clear he put in a lot of thought over his callsign. Probably mulled it over in his mind for a while. 

Neither of you said anything for a while, just letting your eyes roam over one another. 

You broke the silence first, “I wonder what kind of weather we will be having tomorrow?” 

“Hot.” Bob answers simply. You hum in agreement back. 

After work, Penny tried to get you to eat dinner, but you declined, making a beeline to your bedroom and shutting the door for the rest of the night, mumbling something about homework and class. Which was true, you did have to commute forty-five minutes to your eight AM class. 

Sleep was horrible, you just laid in bed and stared with wide eyes at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over again. Was Bob doing the same? He seems like the type of guy to have a strict bedtime at nine PM, and to have a lengthy bedtime ritual. 

What does he wear to bed? He seems like a matching set kind of guy (he presents himself too nicely to not care about his outward appearance). But what if he slept just in his underwear (boxer briefs or boxer shorts)?

The thought makes you groan, flipping your body so you are laying on your stomach. 

Your head presses into your pillow, tempted to scream. This was so ridiculous. It was literally like you were in middle school having a crush. You are twenty-two for god sake.

__________________

7:05 AM, Tuesday

Sleep comes slow, and too soon you hear your alarm clock buzzing at you. Eyes puffy, mouth dry, you felt like shit. The light from the rising sun filtered through your curtains and made a light stain on your sheets. Rolling to a sitting position, you try to will yourself to get up.

Academic success is important to me. Academic success is important to me.

The mantra barely worked, but you found yourself able to shove your legs into some leggings and a light, flowy top. A jacket would probably be nice too, you think as you go back to your closet and sift around the hangers, till you find a black U of C branded quarter zip and throw it over your head. 

This will have to do. 

Penny is sitting on the couch, drinking what appears to be coffee and watching the morning news on mute. It was unusual to see her awake at this hour of the morning. 

Leaning on the back of the couch with your water bottle in hand, she looks up at you with a weary smile.

“Couldn't sleep?” you ask, opening your bottle and taking a drink. Penny nods, “You too?” She asks and sips at her own mug.

“What? Could you tell by my unbelievably dark circles and bags under my eyes?” You say sarcastically before you screw the cap back on and put it in your backpack. Penny chuckles and pats the hand you have resting on the backrest of the couch.

“Hey, I know today is your day off-” She paused and your jaw clenched, lips tightening to form a thin line. 

“Who called in sick?” You ask before she can finish, shifting your weight off the couch so you were fully standing up behind her. 

“Olivia did. I would really appreciate it if you filled in for her.” She set her coffee down on the small side table, “Free food, remember?” Penny said as she turned to face you, her normally penciled eyebrows scrunching together in a pleading look.

 A moment goes by before you let out a huff, a tiny smile gracing your features. 

“Course I will. What time?”

__________________

2:31 PM, Tuesday

It smelled like fresh citrus when you got home, the sea blue wax warmer still on while it sat on the kitchen counter. 

Lazily, you let your backpack slip off your shoulders and onto the floor, nudging it with your foot to the side of the entryway, promising yourself to pick it up before you leave. 

Even though no one was in the house to witness you coming home, you still made a show of dragging your feet to the bathroom, comically groaning and muttering all the way there. 

The shower scalded your skin, and you were pretty sure there were third degree burns developing on your back. Today was supposed to be your day off. Hadn’t you received enough bad luck already? You opened your eyes and stared at the water emptying down the drain. You wish you could melt under the water and get washed down there too.   

If you were unlucky enough, you would see Bob today as well, and considering how today has gone, you could easily predict your future. Flashes of the night before enter your memory. 

His eyes burning a hole into your soul, how he barely knew you yet injected himself between you and Hangman- which you had under control- but still. The thought of him feeling protective over you was enough to make your knees wobble. Maybe you were getting soft on account of not having anyone be interested in you besides your body. 

Sage filled your nose when you got close to him, the smell smooth as it filled your lungs.

Closing your eyes again, imagining the previous night in full color.

Your hands went up your body and to your breasts, squeezing them hard.

It was easy to imagine him before you, sinking to his knees while his large hands explored your body, his lips kissing every square inch of you. It was as easy as breathing. You had no idea what he looked like under his naval khakis or jeans, but you assumed he was lean and strong. More lithe and limber rather than severely muscled up and bulging. 

Your quick fingers trailed down your body and to your clit, legs automatically spreading eagerly. Starting out in smooth, languid circles, tipping your head back and out of the spray of water.

Already you ached with want as you imagined quiet, unassuming Bob taking the place of your fingers, looking up at you with those blue doe eyes. Your fingers hastened and your other hand met your core, pruney fingers slipping with ease in between your folds.

If you want to be at The Hard Deck on time, you should hurry up.

The voice in the back of your head warned, but it was quickly taken over by a vision of Bob laying you down gently against your plain cotton sheets, the smell of summer in the air. 

Two of your fingers slip in with ease, starting at a medium pace, crooked and already coaxing pleasure from you.

He was above you, inside you, the feeling of being full almost too much. You lean against the cold of the tile shower wall, all thoughts of getting clean completely out of your head now. Imagining the look on his face, twisted is pure pleasure sends you into a frenzy, massaging your clit faster as you finger fucked yourself. Your hands were cramping, which realistically would hurt, but you were too consumed by your fantasy to stop. 

Breaths gasping and stuttering, you thought of him in every compromising position with you, the balloon within you getting filled with more and more air, waiting to burst.

What eventually sends you over the edge is him right in your ear, moaning and whining your name, the way it rolls off his tongue purely immaculate, and you're convinced his voice was made just for you. 

Your head flies back, the air punched out of your lungs and your core fluttering. Thank god you were leaning against the wall, because you surely would have collapsed on account of your thighs actively shaking and quivering. 

__________________

9:45 PM, Tuesday

The yellow tinted light in the single toilet bathroom paints you in an unattractive bright beige. Under your nails stung from trying to scrub underneath them with the opposite hand’s nails. You were absolutely exhausted, mentally drained, physically beat if you will. 

Thank god it was closing time though, the crowd nearly gone at the time of you excusing yourself to hide in the bathroom. You just needed to get away for just one second before you had to face the closing chores with Penny.

A buzz in your back pocket alerted you, causing you to turn off the silver knobs and flicking your hands before tearing off a sheet of brown paper towel. It was so thin it almost disintegrated in your hands. 

After throwing it away in the dingey trash can, you leaned against the sink counter away from the mirror so you didn't have to see the sallowness of your completion, pulling out your phone. 

Penny: 

Leaving with Pete right now, can you finish up? Doesn’t have to be spotless. See you at home :) 

Reading the text elicited a groan from you, shoving the phone back into your pocket without responding. No, it wouldn’t be a problem to close up by yourself, you had done it millions of times in the past. 

It was just lonely having to finish, the only thing to keep you company was the jukebox in the corner, but even that too had to get unplugged sometime. 

Taking a deep sigh, you push yourself off the counter and to the dark wood door. You stared at the gold knob for a second, wondering if you could hide away in here for a few more minutes. The thick smell of Hawaiian Aloha Febreze suddenly made itself known to you, and you evacuated the bathroom. Gosh, why did Penny like that smell so much? 

If they made it into perfume you were sure she would have a never ending supply of it. 

The supply closet was at the very end of the hall, the door rickety with a very flimsy lock on it. Right at your forehead hung a black plastic sign with white block letters, ‘Employees Only’. You grabbed the off brand bleach sitting on the shelf level with your knees, and a fading red bucket that had some dry rags hanging over the side. 

Slowly, you uncapped the bleach bottle and poured a splash or two into the bucket, trying to avoid inhaling the strong odor. 

The jukebox was now playing quieter, the rush of the crowd completely gone. You hummed along with the song that was playing as you walked to the doorframe at the end of the hall, making sure to step up on the three inch ledge at the opening. Too many times you had forgotten about the tiny step, and ate shit. 

Not to mention it would be a complete disaster if you spilled the bleach on the wood floor.

You scanned the bar, relieved when you saw that no one was here. Not even a severely inebriated straggler left by their friends. 

This had to be some sort of record! 

You smiled to yourself, imagining a little plaque with tonight’s date on it, saying something like, ‘Hard Deck Record - No Stragglers To Call An Uber For’ or something stupid to monument today. 

A chair creaked and you snapped your head to its general direction, all hopefulness leaving your body. It scraped against the wood floor and you walked over, preparing a stern voice to tell the remaining patron to leave. To your surprise, it wasn't just any old customer, but Bob. 

Why did you choose this day to masturbate to his pretty face?

There he was, standing awkwardly next to one of the support beams, his chair hidden behind it. Both of you stood there for a moment before you broke the connection, heading over to the bar to fill up the rest of the bucket with warm water.

“Did you lose something?” You ask over the sound of the faucet, eyes trained on the slowly filling bucket. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was walking towards you, but never going behind the bar. The last thing you wanted was to look at him, to show some sort of hint that you were interested in him. 

“No I uh-” He rubbed the back of his neck, watching your every move, “Penny was leaving with Maverick and I felt bad that you were going to be here by yourself. So I asked if I could stay.”

You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as you stopped the faucet, using your fingers to swirl the water around. The rags plop in after being hit by your wrist. You were surprised he had offered to stay, even more surprised that Penny had let him. Mav must’ve assured her that he wasn't trouble and could be trusted. 

Bob notices your confused expression, “I’ll help clean of course!” He says hurriedly, trying to assure you he wasn't going to just dick around while you worked. That brought the tiniest smile to your face. Sure, lots of guys tried to hang around after your shift. 

But as soon as you shoved a broom in their hands, they were out of here quicker than a chicken on a junebug. 

“Well, that is awfully sweet of you.” You smile, genuinely thankful he stuck around. Still, heat pooled lower in your stomach. Was it nervousness or arousal? You couldn't tell. 

Bob was wearing another button up today. In his signature style of course, with the sleeves rolled up just above his elbows.

“Do you want anything to drink? It’s on me.” You say as you fish out a rag, wringing it out before setting it on the bartop in front of Bob, making small circles and watching the mixture bead up on the acrylic. You still refused to look at him, which was childish in a way. 

But you were almost positive that if you did, he would be able to tell what you did in the shower. 

Maybe you were just too superstitious. 

“No thank you. I don’t drink actually.” Bob states, his voice quieter now that he was in such close proximity to you. There was that damn sage smell again. 

“Religious?” You ask, finally looking at his impossibly blue eyes, “Not that it’s a bad thing.” You add on quickly, not wanting to offend him.

Bob chuckles softly, the noise almost startling you. Have you ever heard that noise from him before? It seemed so unlike his nervous and observant composure. “Not exactly. At first, yes I was religious. But now I don’t drink because it messes with my head.” He explains, now watching your hand, which had slowed its scrubbing to a snail’s pace. 

“What do you mean, ‘at first’?” 

“Well, I grew up in Oklahoma, which is in the bible belt of the United States. Southern Baptist to be exact. My whole family is, but soon after I left for the Navy, I stopped practicing.” Bob was now sitting in the stool in front of you, hands clasped between the two of you.

“Just grew apart.” You concluded for him, “So, tell me then. Why do you have a southern accent?” Your question was serious, but Bob just looked at you, bewilderment on his face. 

“People in Oklahoma have southern accents. Just not strong ones.” 

Oh. My. God.

“No way, really?” You now felt stupid, laughing in embarrassment. Your face heated up and you wanted nothing more than to crawl up in a ball and die. But you felt a little less embarrassed as Bob laughed along with you, his pretty eyes squinting under his glasses.

“So what about you, do you drink?” Bob asked after the two of you got done laughing.

“Nope. Four years sober this year actually.” You say cautiously as you start wiping down the bar with more intent to clean. 

“Four years… If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” He wonders, confusion audibly in his voice.

“I don't mind, I'm twenty-two.” You started, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. “Didn’t hang around the best people growing up and in school, but I’m clean now. Have been since moving here with my aunt, Penny.”

Curiosity taking the best of you, you glanced up at Bob, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Wow, I’m sorry. Is it hard to be a bartender then?”

“Oh don’t be. Honestly, yes it was at first. But I didn’t start working here until I was about twenty.” You stop scrubbing and smile at him. He smiled back, warm and accepting. 

It was weird to see such an open and honest reaction. Even the most seemingly accepting people shut down at the thought of being friends with a once-druggie. 

“So, If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” You ask, parroting what he said earlier with a chuckle. You were becoming much more at ease with his presence, but that didn’t stop you from noticing the slight change in his facial expressions or how he picked at the skin around his fingernails. 

“Twenty-six. Now could you hand me a rag so I can help too?” Bob was practically gleaming at you, sliding off the barstool. His palm was outstretched slightly, patiently waiting for you to hand him one. 

Was he really twenty-six? It was only four years older than you, which wasn’t a huge age gap but the words twenty-six and twenty-two still felt so different. Especially considering you were still in school and he was already involved in a serious career. 

After wringing out the rag and handing it to him, you both started working on tables, conversation fueling your motivation. 

Bob talked highly about his family, how back in Oklahoma he had a plethora of sisters, all married with babies. He stopped what he was doing a few times and came over to you, showing pictures taken at family gatherings on his mom’s Facebook page. With every photo he showed you, you would be lying if it didn't cause a pang of want in your chest. 

Even the photo which he swears is the most unattractive one of all time, was somehow making your face heat in jealousy. In the photo his hair was a mess, sticking up at all angles like a porcupine. He sported a sleepy smile with an even sleepier baby with its head resting on his shoulder, spit up covering a bit of his sleeve. 

It was cute, adorable even. 

Bob flips to a new photo, “Is that your dad?” You ask and point to an older man standing next to a young Bob. He nods and zooms in a bit. He couldn't have been more than ten years old in that picture.

“Well, now I see where you get your good looks.” The comment comes out offhandedly and you don’t really realize what you are saying until you look up at him. He bites his bottom lip slightly, a blush dusting the apples of his cheeks.

“Thanks.” 

As you got back to work, he continued talking about the farm he grew up on. It was pretty secluded from the rest of the town, taking about thirty minutes to drive into civilization. Bob spoke fondly about the animals there, how cute it was to bottle feed calves and lambs. His dad had a strict policy on what animals could go inside, dogs not being one of them. 

So, being the (in your words) sweet boy he was would secretly feed them extra scraps on cold mornings before he had to leave for school. 

Bob asked you about university, wondering if you went to a community college nearby. You explained that you went to University of California San Diego, and yes, you did in fact drive forty-five minutes just for a few classes.

He seemed impressed by your major when you told him, and your heart skipped a beat at the small compliment. That snowballed into you rambling as you swept, gushing about all you wanted to do with it, that you were in your last year, and thankfully, you didn’t need to go to grad school unless you really wanted to. 

Nervously, you explained that you took an extra year to graduate, but you were relieved when he spoke up.

“You know, people put too much pressure on others to finish a degree in four years. What matters is that you like what you do.” Bob explained simply, eyes trained on the task in front of him. 

Bob was impressed by your passion for your studies, smiling secretly to himself as he dried drinking glasses. 

Then you talked about the military, asking if it ran in his family. Turns out, his dad was the rebellious one in his family, the only one out of Bob’s uncles not to serve. Even his grandpa had served, and was awfully proud of Bob for enlisting right out of highschool. 

He asked you the same, watching you carefully as you made your way over to him behind the bar to help him dry the clear pint glasses.

Your elbows brushed against one another as you worked, the clinking of glasses and friction of fabric accompanying the soft music in the background.

“Yeah I would say it runs in my family. My grandpa was an Admiral, who actually knew Mav when he was still at Top Gun. Long, long time ago” You laugh, “Mav and Penny have known eachother much longer than what they let on. I think he used to be one of her old sweethearts.” 

“Really? Well now I see it, but before you just told me, I would have never guessed. What about your parents?” 

You stiffen unintentionally, hands stilling on the glass you were working on. “My dad is Penny’s brother, he was in the Navy too. We moved around a lot, as most people do. But I wish we hadn’t. I think that if I had that one thing constant in my life, it would have saved my parents a lot in medical bills.” You laugh solemnly.

“But, I think my brother is graduating high school in the spring, and I would be in complete shock if he didn’t enlist right out like you did.” You add, trying to lighten the moment. Bob nodded silently, finishing the last glass of the night.

Finally, the two of you were done. Checking your watch, you noted the time, pleasantly surprised when you realized it was just a little past eleven. The outside world was completely dark, like an inky sheet of paper wrapped all the way around the building. 

“One second.” Momentarily, you left him at the bar, heading quickly into the back to grab your bag. Once you came back, his anxious expression dissipated.

“Hey, thanks for staying with me. It would’ve been a real drag if I had to close up shop by myself.” Walking over to a table, you pull out a chair before sitting in it, your drawstring bag hanging over the backrest. You motioned him to do the same.

“It’s no problem, really. My pleasure, actually.” He smiles and heads over, taking a seat right next to yours. You could swear he actually moved it closer. The sudden lack of distance made you feel that dizziness again, a large knot in your throat, preventing you from swallowing. 

“What do you think you would be doing? If you hadn’t joined the Navy I mean.” You ask, studying his features. His eyebrows raise the tiniest bit and you notice a beauty mark above his left one. Gosh, were you two really that close that you could see almost every detail of his face?

Bob ponders the question for a bit, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. He was still looking at you, and you could swear he was doing the same thing. Studying your looks, his blue eyes mapping you from forehead to chin. Eyes lingering a bit longer than normal at your lips, which you licked nervously.

“I’d probably be on a farm somewhere. Maybe not Oklahoma, but somewhere with lots of mountains and trees. I love to hike.” His eyes looked past you, as if he was in a dreamlike state imagining where he would be, “But, the beach is really nice too. Maybe the weather is a bit too hot for my liking, but beautiful nonetheless.” He added on quietly, eyes flitting to yours.

Nodding, you took a deep, almost shuddering breath. “Yeah, the beach is pretty gorgeous, isn't it?” The words came out almost as a whisper. 

It was suddenly much too hot in the bar. 

“I love to run.” You offered, trying to get rid of the silence that was settling around you two. 

“Really? That’s cool, I like to run too.” Bob simply stated, like it was the most casual of conversations, like you two were not seconds away from jumping each other. 

“Maybe when this is all over we could run together.” You gulped, realizing the underlying intentions of the offer. A possible date maybe? What would this simple run turn into? Maybe a picnic on the sand? The two of you laughing, sweaty in the ocean water? 

“Yeah, I think we should.” He breathed, like it took all his effort to come up with that simple sentence. 

The tension between the two of you was bubbling over like a pot left on the stove for too long. His foot nudged yours under the table, which you tapped back with a weak smile. 

Before you could think, you found yourself leaning forward in your chair. So forward towards him in fact, your butt was lifting from the chair, leaving you in this odd ninety degree angle at the hips while your face was directly in front of his. Your hands came out to steady you, one on the table and one on the arm of his chair.

Bob looked startled, peering up at you through his glasses with wide owl-like eyes. His tongue poked out between his lips and passed over them quickly, looking rapidly between your eyes and lips. 

A large hand grabbed at the base of your skull, and pulled you down to his face, the other hand cupping your cheek. His palm was rough with thick calluses, scratching the soft skin of your face. Big blue eyes were the last thing you saw before yours fluttered closed, the next sensation being the soft cushion of his lips melding with yours. 

An earthy sage scent plugged up your nose, letting it envelope you like the salty water outside. They were soft kisses, gentle and tentative. Bob drew back to catch his breath, his cheeks reddened and freckled. 

Were you always this lonely? The loss of his lips dug a pit in your stomach, making it known how long you have stayed away from intimacy. This feeling of need made you scared. You wanted to be independent, you had built up confidence to not rely on another person for so long. Yet you could feel it slipping away like sand just from a few kisses. 

Your crisis was distracted by his lips on yours again, letting out a soft sound of happiness that had Bob smiling against your lips. Slowly, he pushed himself out of the chair, the tension in your muscles dissolving as you straightened out to your full height. 

The tentative kisses did not stay for long as they were replaced by a desperate sense of urgency. Bob backed you more into the table, your ass hitting the ledge. Hands now free to explore, you planted your palms on his chest, digging your fingers into the soft fabric of his button up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that his hands had moved from your face till you felt them slip down to your waist, his fingertips softly brushing the belt you had worn today. It was modest, the way he was touching you. Letting you take the lead of pushing and pulling with your two bodies. 

Standing on your toes, you backed up more into the table and sat upon it, breaking the kiss only to get comfortable before you were tugging him closer. Bob settled himself between your legs. The sudden shifting against the inside of your thighs brought your attention down to your throbbing core. 

It was almost embarrassing how turned on you were, the dampness and heat pulsing with every accidental touch to the insides of your thighs. Pulling him closer so he was almost flush with you must have awoken something within him as well because you could feel the kisses morphing into almost bruising. His mouth tasted like sweet peppermint candy, the white and red ones your grandma always had in her purse. 

Dizzy, you raised your hand to tangle in the short hairs on his neck, pulling him back from your mouth. Looking at him through bleary eyes, a sharp gasp left your throat as he chose to continue the kisses down your jaw and to your exposed neck. 

This couldn't be happening, right? You must have done something amazing in a past life to deserve this. It was almost too much. The coldness of the frames of his glasses, the hot, wet kisses he was pressing into your skin like his life depended on it, you could pass out from all of the attention. 

Your mind wandered as your body went to putty in his hands. 

It was a quick realization of what you had felt earlier. Lonely. So, so unbearably lonely. 

But you were used to loneliness. It was scary to feel this sharp sense of want in your chest, this man you barely knew was breaking down your walls faster than even Penny, who basically knew all your deepest, darkest secrets. 

“Stop, please-” 

But before you could even finish, Bob was off of you in an instant. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he looked at you with worry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times after, wanting to say something more as he put a few spaces of distance between the two of you. 

“No, no. It’s me.” You gulped, “Please just- I need to finish and go home.” You let out a rush of a breath, still sitting on the table as you were not sure you could stand. 

Nodding, he scrubbed his hand over his face and straightened out his shirt some, the wrinkles you caused on his chest still there. Then, he was gone. Just like that he left without a word. 

The door closed softly though, you were bracing yourself to hear it slam but it never did. It was like he was making a point to close it softly, like he didn’t want to scare you. 

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stared up into the warm yellow glow of the lights above you. 

__________________

3:26 PM, Friday

Even through the kitchen window above the sink, the sun was hot. Not exactly a record breaking temperature, but nonetheless sweltering for what was supposed to be fall.

The stainless steel basin sink was smooth under your fingertips, sun peeking through the window and reflecting off the silver metal. Your nail beds were burning under the heat, but also because of how hard they were gripping the basin. The sight outside on the sand was unbelievable. 

Phoenix had mentioned to you several times how all their asses were getting beat day after day with little to no reward. How they were all scared shitless for the upcoming mission- which she told you nothing about- just what could be shared with people outside her circle. 

Of handedly, she mentioned something about Mav having something planned to let them blow off some steam, but you had just figured Mav sweet talked Penny into renting out the bar for one night just for the crew so they could play and drink.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever expected to look out and see them playing football right in your backyard.

Penny hadn't warned you either. But she had known about this because Mav must have asked her. The two of them had become extremely close in the past few days, his motorcycle frequenting the house after he got off work. 

You were shopping online in the coolness of your bedroom when you heard the door open and a bunch of loud voices travel down the hall to your room. Amelia’s birthday was in a few weeks and you couldn't wait to get a head start on the birthday presents, she was going to be fifteen. You swear you remember her being born like it was yesterday. 

Not thinking much of it, you continued adding more stuff to your favorites to look at later. 

But soon you realized that it was not Amelia and her friends, but a bunch of mature adults whooping and hollering in the house. Quickly, you got up after shutting your computer. Penny hasn't texted you at all today so you had no idea who it could be.

Hands shaking, you reached out and tried to grab the doorknob, sweaty palms making it almost impossible to turn. It had to be someone that knew your family. There were too many cheery voices for it to be intruders. 

Slowly you opened the door and peeked your head out and looked towards the kitchen, and with no such luck, you saw no one. Damn that staircase blocking your view. So quietly, you step out into the hardwood hallway and shut the door, taking some cautious steps forward. God, even your feet were sweaty and sticking to the floor.

It was so much hotter in the rest of the house, even with the AC running. Penny loved natural light so unfortunately she always tried to keep the blinds open. Unlike your room with the single window, you only opened the blinds when you were sure it wouldn't cook everything you owned. 

Twisting your hands together nervously, you finally made it within view of the kitchen, and the butterflies in your stomach turned into feral bats trying to escape a cave. 

Everyone, and you mean everyone was in the kitchen. The whole crew. The Daggers, or whatever dumb name they decided to call themselves. 

Frantically turning to leave, you heard Penny call out your name. You had been spotted. 

Twisting your body back to face the group, most of whom were still chatting, thank god. 

Penny was grinning ear to ear, sitting in a chair but turned around to face you, beckoning you forward with her left hand while her right held a glass with what you could only assume to be lemon water or a cocktail.

Plastering on the most genuine smile you could muster (you were sure you just looked like you were in pain though), your sticky feet led you to the familiar faces scattered about the room. 

Phoenix was the first one to greet you, leaving her spot leaning against the chair Halo was sitting in to go and hug you. She smelled like outside and sweet perfume, her loose ponytail tickling your nose as she held you in a great bear hug. Pulling back, you noticed the clothes she was wearing. Not her usual khakis but black shorts and a loose fitting plain white tank top.

You tuned in as she was talking to you, your eyes trained on her face but your mind was busy with the noise around you.

“... good for our team work if we let loose and played some football.” She grinned as she moved out of the way for Payback as he made his way to the hall, probably to the bathroom.

Your hands came up and scrubbed your face, looking at her apologetically, “What did you say? It's rowdy in here.” Phoenix laughs, her drink tipping with her as she explains again, that Mav wanted them to work as a team, and what better way than an American pastime. 

Agreeing with her, you turn to the fridge and grab a soda, frosty in your hands. It was like a swarm of bees had taken over the room. Even halfway behind the fridge door, people were brushing against you, their hands reaching for the crisp drinks they desperately needed in this heat. 

“So, why my house?” You ask, making your way back to Phoenix and Halo at the table, smiling to let them know you are not upset, just curious. Phoenix’s eyes flit between Penny and Maverick, who were obviously flirting. You catch her eye and she tips her head towards them, indicating their obvious likeness for one another.  

Nodding in response you look around the cramped kitchen. Rooster came up beside you, his left arm swinging casually around your shoulders. The shift of his arm caused your own clothing to suddenly move, making you hyper aware of what you were wearing. 

Casual lounging shorts cut at mid thigh, and a ribbed t-shirt. What made this ensemble quite unfortunate was the low support sports bra you were wearing underneath. Perfect for the comfort of your bedroom, but never in front of company. You might as well be wearing no bra at all.

Crossing your arms protectively in front of you, you turned your head to look at Rooster, a small smile on your face.

“Been a while, huh?” Rooster says playfully, squeezing your shoulders just slightly.

Rolling your eyes, your elbow nudged him in the ribs, “You literally saw me yesterday, at the bar… and you never tipped me.” You add on, scoffing sarcastically.

“I mean,” He says with emphasis, “We haven't hung out in a while. With my work, and your school- You know the phone works both ways.” Rooster says in fake disapproval, mocking the least favored divorced parent.

Letting out a laugh, you look down at your feet. The smell of his deodorant and sweat enveloping you. 

“I know, I’m just the worst aren't I? You know-” You start but get cut off by Maverick trying to get everyone’s attention as he stands up from the chair beside Penny’s. 

Rooster’s arm drops from atop your shoulders and down to his side, his lips pressed into a thin line as Mav started talking. You knew all about his papers being pulled, how upset he was when it happened. 

Mav started out by thanking Penny for letting them use her house as a meeting place, which elicited a few claps and ‘thank yous’ by some members. A soft blush creeped up her cheeks as she lowered her head a bit and smiled. God, she has it bad. Never in your life had you expected your aunt, who was full of quick answers and witty remarks to be in love. 

The kitchen quieted down as Mav continued, explaining what they were going to do, the teams, and more. You stopped listening, and looked around the room. Your mouth went completely dry as you locked eyes with him. 

Wearing a yellow shirt with a white design in the middle and basketball shorts, he looks wildly out of place. Not in a way that segregates him from others as they are all wearing casual workout wear, but in the way it was just so casual from all the times you had seen him.

He's standing almost at the polar opposite end of the kitchen from you, jaw flexing and eyes now at the ground, making a point not to stare at you. You wiped your clammy hands on your shorts, thinking back to your last interaction with him.

That night you had gotten so comfortable with him, opening up to him in that short amount of time more than you had with Penny your first year here. What pained you even more is how much he had opened up to you. You knew the real Bob. The one who eagerly shows you pictures of his nieces and nephews upon talking about them, the one who is passionate about agriculture and wishes to settle down to have a farm. 

The one under his quiet, reserved outer shell that he projects to his colleagues. 

Then, out of your own selfishness, you had to ruin it. The tension after you two had kissed could have been cut with a knife. You had felt betrayed by your body as you touched him, but relieved when he did the same. But, with all relationships, you pushed him away and out of your life, and the bar. 

You were sure you could die of shame and embarrassment right there in the kitchen.

Finally, Maverick finished his spiel and instructed everyone to leave the house and head down to the beach. Phoenix patted your arm before she followed the crowd out, leaving her drink on the dining room table. You pressed yourself to the kitchen counter in an attempt to get out of anyone's way as they passed. 

Penny got up and disappeared to the living room. You must talk to her about letting you know when people are coming over, especially when she knows you aren't decent.  

As the kitchen emptied out, you let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding, but sucked another one right up after you realize the room was still not empty.

“Hey.” You grimaced, tipping your head at him. You meant to move closer but your feet were cemented to the ground.

“I have this,” Bob says as he leans down and picks up a smaller dark blue duffle bag, “Could I leave it here?” He asks shakily. You knew he was as nervous as you were, whether it was because he did not want to play football, or he was remembering that night as well. 

Blinking at him, trying to formulate an answer as the silence became painful.

“Yes! Yeah, go right ahead. Sorry.” You finally get out, the words gushing out on a quick exhaled breath. “Just put it on a chair or under the table, so it doesn't get stepped on.” You continue and mentally shake yourself out, trying to put on a facade of cool, calm, and collected. 

Bob nodded and slid out a chair to drop the duffle bag onto, before sliding it back into its original place. Looking back at you, his lips quirked up the tiniest bit (if your eyes hadn't been glued to his face you surely would have missed it) before tipping his head as a goodbye, and leaving. 

The screen door closing brought you back to reality, thank god he was only going to be stationed here for a little more. You couldn't handle having to see him anymore. Penny finally emerged with two brown leather books in her arms, and you immediately recognized them as The Hard Deck’s financing books. 

“Come out and join me,” She smiled as she shifted the two books to one side of her hips, holding them like someone would hold a toddler, “it'll be fun, and I need help with these.” She says, gesturing to the books.

“I'll be out in a minute.” You promise, the weak smile you had earlier coming back to your face. Before closing the door behind her, she quipped something at you, but the blood rushing in your ears was too loud. 

So that's where you were. Fingers gripping the sink as your neck craned to watch the game from the window. Your focus solely trained on Bob, who had kept that yellow shirt on instead of shedding it like the others. Admittedly you were a little disappointed he kept it on. 

If you were going outside, you had to change, you decided before heading back to your room. 

As the door shut behind you, you sagged on it. Was it even worth changing? Everyone had already seen you in these clothes, and besides your obvious lack of chest support, it wasn't like you were wearing something egregious. 

Even though you never open your blinds when it is hot out, you have to admit the rest of the house looked absolutely beautiful in the afternoon light. Making your way to the window, you grab an old baseball cap and put it snuggly atop your head, in an attempt to shade the sun you will surely get outside with Penny. 

After opening the blinds up, you leave the room, the door cracked just slightly. 

Slipping on a pair of sandals by the door, you take a deep breath. You had nothing to worry about. All you were going to do was manage the books with Penny and steal some looks at the team. No big deal. 

Penny was sitting a ways away from the game in a beach chair, a book open in her lap and the end of the pen between her teeth, clearly not concentrating on the page in front of her. Plopping down beside her in the warm sand, you took the other book and flipped it to the most current page, studying the numbers. 

You had to do this many times before, so managing it had become quite easy to you.

The two of you sat in silence, like an unspoken pact not to make a peep while you both concentrated on the pages, and the men in front of you. 

You couldn't help but smile as you watched the game, especially when Bob was involved. He hung back from the game, but as it went on he became more confident. He was definitely the type to sit back and watch things unfold before inserting himself. 

There is a reason why he is here over the millions of other WSOs in the Navy. 

As the game progressed, it became less serious and more playful. You were sure none of them were keeping track of points at this time. You closed the book and leaned back on your elbows, as the numbers were becoming confusing in your brain. The game was coming to a close.

You laughed out loud when Rooster picked up Bob on his shoulders, Bob gleaming triumphantly with the ball in his hands. The group excitedly cheered around him, causing your heart to soar. It was an unfamiliar sight to see him at the center of attention, especially after observing him at the bar. 

Soon, the heat became too much and you headed in, promising Penny that you had full intentions of returning, just that you needed to cool off. 

Back inside the house, you filled up a blue drinking glass with the cold water from the pitcher in the fridge. The baseball cap suddenly felt too tight on your head, so you took it off and set it next to the sink, praying you didn't have too bad of hat hair. Your back was turned from the door, eyes looking over the many papers littering the fridge door, all held up by colorful magnets. 

Not too long after you finished your first cup, you heard the door open behind you. Assuming it was Penny, you turned around ready to start firing off witty comments about her and Mav. 

To your surprise Bob is standing in the doorway, breathing heavy, his cheeks flushed from exertion. Licking his lips, he walks over to the chair he placed his bag on, almost stumbling a bit. 

“Do- do you need some water?” You ask, gesturing to the cup in your hand. He looked absolutely beat, his hair in disarray and a bit of wet sand smeared on his right cheek. Bob nods, his chest stuttering as if he couldn't get enough breath in his lungs.

Whipping around, you open the fridge door and fill up the cup in your hand, not even realizing how impolite it is not to get a clean cup for him. The whole world was completely silent, as if everyone was holding their breath as you let the door close and you made your way over to him, wasting no time to give him his drink.

Holding the glass up to him, you noted the condensation that had gathered around your fingers, how the cool water made your fingers slip right off as he took it from you. Standing so close to him you smelled a mixture of wet sand and the saltiness of the sea. You stared intently as Bob rose the glass to his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. A small bead of water escaped his lips and rolled slowly down his chin. Knees weak, you grasped the back of a dining chair right beside you. 

You could swear you were drooling at the sight. 

Bob set the glass down on the table, making a dull clinking sound against the wood. 

The sudden noise snapped you back to reality, forcing you to realize the distance between you two was small, and that you were most definitely in his personal space. 

Taking a step back, you noticed his hand was still grasping the duffle.

“Do you mind if I uh-” He cleared his throat, “go and change? In your bathroom?” 

“Sure!” Your voice came out tight and squeaky, “Down the hall, last door on the left.” You gestured over your shoulder with your thumb in the direction of the bathroom, watching him smile softly and thank you. 

As he started walking away from you, you noticed the deep red sunburn glaring on the back of his neck. 

“Oh my god.” You say and he immediately turns on his heels, spinning abruptly to look at you with wide eyes, “What? What?” He repeats, concern washing over his features.

Feet unwillingly carrying you over to Bob, gesturing to the back of your own neck, “Your neck- it’s really burnt.” You stop in front of him, almost toe to toe. “Did you not use any sunscreen?” You ask, praying your tone doesn't make you sound like a disappointed parent. 

You were trying to portray ‘chill, concerned, friend’.

Bob raises his hand to rub the back of his neck, wincing slightly at the hot skin, “No, I did. But it must've rubbed off.” He explains, a southern accent dripping through his words, making you melt. 

Before you could even process what was going on, you had pushed past him, walking down the hallway down to the bathroom. 

“I- I have some of that aloe vera stuff we can put on it.” You call over your shoulder, hoping he’s not too far along behind you, “It’s that green gel, feels really good on sunburns.”

Now you were just babbling, frantically twisting your hands. Jesus Christ, you should have asked him before totally assuming he would be fine with you putting your hands all over his body- well only his neck, but still!

When you realized this, you were already in the doorway of the bathroom. Your hand caught the door frame and turned around. Bob must've been following you closely because he stopped a couple inches short of barreling you over, his duffle bag hitting your leg. You can see the reflection of your face in his glasses.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I should've asked you first-” You start to say and he cuts you off. 

“No, it’s a great idea. Thank you.” He breathed and you could feel it on your face. Nodding slowly as you bit your bottom lip, searching his eyes. You notice that freckle above his left eyebrow, the same as you did when you kissed him at the bar. 

It was taking everything in your being to not crush your lips against him desperately, the sexual tension of that night drifting over to this moment. 

Your fingers fumble with the light switch, grasping at anything to keep yourself grounded. As the light hums on, Bob’s eyes close tightly for a moment. You didn’t realize how dark the end of the hallway was till both of your eyes were assaulted by the fluorescents. 

Crouching down to open the cupboards, you feel Bob’s shins rub against your lower back as he side shuffles his way into the room. God, there was so much junk in here. A lot of it was hardly ever used and dust was collecting on the bottles. Bob lowered his duffle onto the closed toilet seat, and you could hear him fiddling with the zipper to the bag. 

Finally, you locate the bottle and stand up to your full height, closing the cupboard door with your knee. You fiddle with the cap before looking up at him, noticing how his eyes flit from your face to something behind you.

Looking over your shoulder you see nothing, so you bring your attention back to him, tilting your head in question, your fingers now picking at the hard plastic top of the aloe vera gel.

“Can we… close the door?” Bob asks, carefully choosing his words, hoping you will get the hint as he toys with the hem of his yellow shirt. Humming in agreement, you turn and close the door softly, gently turning the lock. Thankfully it didn't make too much noise, as you were not wanting to startle Bob and make him feel trapped in the room with you. 

You were merely doing it for privacy.

Turning back to Bob, you notice yourself in the mirror. Lips chapped from the heat and licking them, your shirt bunched up a bit around your armpits (which you immediately adjusted by tugging at the hem), and your cheeks flushed from the sun.

You both knew what had to come next, and stalling wasn’t the answer to getting this done and over with. In order for you to accurately help him, he must take off his shirt. 

This all felt so juvenile, christ it wasn’t like you had never seen a man without his shirt on, and he had been shirtless plenty of times. But right now, in the bathroom with the door locked, purposefully hiding away from the others, it felt like it was the gateway to possible disaster. 

After standing there staring at one another for what seemed like ages, Bob grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head, ducking carefully in order for his glasses not to get knocked off his head. You held your breath as he dropped it to the tile floor, the yellow contrasting against the light tan squares. He was as handsome as you had imagined. 

Broad shoulders, sprinkled with millions of freckles. His collarbone defined, tapering to his chest, the muscles rising with every breath. Abs softly there, but visible nonetheless. 

Lower and lower, your vision got. Shamefully you peaked at his hips and you noticed a light v-line, practically begging for you to explore what was below.

Your eyes snapped back up to him, “Turn around, please.” You direct quietly as your hand reaches for his elbow, gently touching it as another signal to turn. He did as he was told, facing away from you and slightly lowering his head. The freckles trailed from his shoulders to his back. 

Squeezing a small amount of the green gel in your palm, you set the bottle on the countertop. It was a thin consistency as you attempted to warm it up in your hands, trying to minimize the cold shock. 

With no second thoughts, you swiped a flat palm across his neck, which was indeed burning. Bob’s shoulders moved the tiniest bit, probably because you gave him no warning. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed as you massaged the aloe into his neck, grabbing the bottle and squeezing more after you realized the first amount was not enough.

You couldn't tell if it was hot in here or if it was you. But the feeling of want pooled in your lower stomach, causing your thighs to clench closer together. Once you felt your hands had overstayed their welcome, you removed them, letting your fingertips ghost down his back, yearning to touch him more.

Bob paused for a beat before turning back to face you. His bottom lip was swollen and wet, as if he had been worrying it with his teeth the entire time. The sight was making you go absolutely feral. 

“I want you.” You croaked out, mouth dry as a desert. Your eyes then widened in shock as you realized what you had just said, hand clamping over your mouth. The world was literally burning to the ground in front of you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He looked like his brain had short circuited at what you said, trying to process three tiny words that had a life altering meaning. Faintly, you heard the front door open, then shut. 

Voices distantly talking in the kitchen. But Bob seemed to not notice. Steely blue eyes burning into yours. 

“You want…” He paused, his tongue wetting his bottom lip, “You want me.” He said it less like a question and more like a matter of fact statement. You almost expected him to blow up in your face, to angrily tell you how unfair it was for you to say that you wanted him. After you had rejected him at the bar. But to your surprise he was calm- well as calm as someone can be due to the vulnerability of this interaction. 

Dropping your hand from your mouth, inhaling a sharp breath through your nose. “Yes.” You say dumbly, struggling to even think due to the environment. It was dreadfully humid, the aloe smell the only thing you could comprehend right now. You felt drunk on sight alone, and you swear Bob is now officially the most handsome man in the world. 

So handsome it makes you want to sob and rip your heart out. 

Suddenly, your whole world was flipped upside down. You stiffened as he took a quick step towards you, closing the already nonexistent distance. You felt his hands fly to your biceps, his strong fingers holding your whole body at his mercy. Not even giving you a second to think, his lips crushed into yours, a much different feeling than the tender first kiss you shared at the bar. 

A much different Bob too. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever expect such a sudden force from him.

Realizing your eyes are still open in shock, you shut them and kiss back after a beat, feeling his bare chest pressed flush to yours. He is so sturdy and unmoving, like a boulder near the shore. His hands loosen their grip on your upper arms and you take the opportunity to raise your hands to either side of his face, pulling him in for deeper kisses, both of your mouths opening to let eachother explore.

In fractions of seconds, the kisses turned from wants to needs. Your back was now against the locked door, Bob’s thigh wedged between your own. It was pressed into the soft cotton juncture between your legs, the slight friction doing nothing to ease your now aching core. Bob had one hand curved around your hip, and the other on your upper back, pushing you into him even more.

Lungs screaming, you pushed his face back the smallest bit. Foreheads touching, and the silver metal of his glasses cooling the spot between your eyebrows. Strings of saliva connecting your mouths were disrupted by panting, the two of you trying to catch your breath. 

Barely opening your eyes, you noticed his were still shut, a deep crease ran between his brows. 

You gave him a quick kiss on his open mouth before gently pushing him back more, observing his whole face now. Bob looked absolutely wrecked, eyes dark, glasses threatening to slip off his nose, and his whole chest was blotchy and red (confirming your suspicion that his blush did in fact creep down below his shirt collar). 

He looked disappointed that you had stopped kissing, searching your eyes for answers.

“W-We should go to my room.” You whisper, but not for privacy. You physically felt like your voice couldn't get any louder. “Just across the hall.” More voices could be heard from in the kitchen and your heart picked up even more, scared to get caught in such a compromising position with Bob. You considered the thought of stopping what was going on, to just compose yourselves and act normal until you could get more promising alone time. 

But as Bob nodded, letting out a raspy noise of agreement, he got off of you. 

This movement not only left your body strikingly cold without his, but as he removed his thigh it rubbed just right, leaving you on an upstroke of a very short high. 

The thought of stopping seemed utterly ridiculous now, your body humming with need as Bob picked up his shirt and duffle, waiting for you to initiate the escape. Turning around, your shaky fingers silently turned the lock and then the knob. 

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder at Bob, who was still in the exact same spot. With the doorknob still in one hand, you messily turned the light switch off with the other, leaving the two of you in complete darkness besides one sliver of faint light seeping through the cracked door.

Holding your breath, you peaked your head out. The voices were louder, and they were laughing. Bob’s hand grasped your hip in an attempt to not lose you in the dark. You couldn't tell who was here based on voices alone, but if you had to guess, there were probably half as many people here now than when you first emerged from your room. 

Blindly, you reached back and grabbed his hand on your hip, holding it tightly as you pushed through the door and all but sprinted into your room. You were thankful for leaving it cracked earlier, saving you the time of loudly having to open it. 

You stayed at the door while Bob went in, quietly closing and locking it. Hands shaking, you looked down at them, still facing the door. Only the quiet breaths from the both of you could be heard. The collar of your shirt was bugging your neck. 

Bob seemed to read your mind because he reached out, brushing the hairs on your neck softly before tucking in the tag of your shirt. 

It was a harmless gesture, something that anyone could do. But the way he did it, lingering fingertips, felt oddly domestic and sensual. 

“I am sorry for the other night.” 

Bob was the first to break the silence, even if it was a quiet muttering of words. His fingertips were still lightly brushing your upper back, as if he was trying to coax you to turn around to face him. You were still too scared to. 

It made you gulp. The comment makes your lungs hitch as if you had been punched. 

Your eyes searched the plain door in front of you. You probably looked utterly ridiculous, your whole body turned rigidly to the door without moving. Hands still clasped tightly on the knob. 

But that didn’t phase him. Gently, his fingers smoothed out the wrinkles of your shirt, coming close enough to feel his breath on the back of your neck. Lightly, you felt him trace the backing of your sports bra. A simple cross-back, nothing special. But in this moment, it felt special. The way he was tracing it like it was the most delicate of lace, patterned with beautiful designs. 

It wasn't until he dipped down and pressed his lips to your shoulder that you relaxed, cautiously laying your head back to touch his shoulder. He was beautiful, the same man as before, but amplified by his loving actions towards you. 

The knob clacked as you let it go, hands going to his cheeks and jaw while your body followed to be facing him. 

All the tension remaining in your body was gone when you started to kiss him. Bodies warmed up and humming with pleasure. Easily opening up to one another as you made your way to the bed, still attached at the lips. 

You were the first to lay down, shimming up the bed so you rested on it until just your feet hang off the end. Bob stood between your spread legs, one hand reaching down to jostle your ankle in a friendly way before kneeling on the bed. Impatient by his slow crawl up to you, you sat up on an elbow while the other hand grasped at his shirtsleeve to try and urge him upwards. 

He smiled bashfully, dipping his head before he found your lips again. Your hand wandered to the hem of his shirt, pushing upwards to grope at his stomach and chest. 

His skin is smooth, despite the rounded bumps scattered sparsely about him, dark beauty marks that looked like stars on his skin. You were eager to see them again. 

Bob took the hint and sat up to pull his shirt off, letting it fall off the bed with a light thump. You admired his body before tugging off your own shirt and bra. He looked at you hungrily and let his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, silently asking for approval. You nod, biting your lip as you watch him slip off your panties and shorts, moving off the bed to help you take them off your ankles. 

Your heartbeat quickened, feeling very exposed in front of him so you promptly shut your legs, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. Remembering all your little scars and insecurities that you did not want him to see. They were human, something that made you- you, but you felt more than naked now. 

Suddenly, you remembered all the people in the kitchen, their voices drifting back to you. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, you spread your legs, this time with the soles of your feet firmly planted on the comforter. 

The man at the end of your bed seemed perplexed at your movements, watching you in real time how the wheels turned in your head. But he wasted no time dropping to his knees, making a thunking noise on the floor. 

Large hands grabbed at your thighs, urging you closer to the end of the bed. You obeyed them and shuffled downwards till your naked pussy was inches away from the most handsome man you have ever seen. 

The hungry look in his eyes made you visibly shiver, noting how his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, seemingly intoxicated by your musky scent. He took both of your legs and put them over his shoulders, the crook of your knees on each of his respective shoulders. Spread even more for him, he kissed and nibbled at your inner thighs. 

Drawing out whimpers of desperation from you, making you impatient and driving you wild. You raised your head up from the bed and tugged on his hair, directing him to where you would rather have his mouth. His hot breath fanned over your glistening folds, and you could practically see him drooling. Right before he dove in you gave a sharp tug to his hair, forcing him to look at you. 

“Glasses?” You choked out hoarsely, your fingers slipping from his hair to touch the frames of his glasses. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He mutters, eyes glazed over as he focuses on you before pulling off his glasses and folding them. Reaching behind himself, he places them on the floor and goes right back where he was. Giving you a quick kiss to your thigh, he dives in without warning. 

It makes you jump, the flat of his tongue dragging a thick line from opening to clit. Your head drops back on the bed as you clamp a hand over your mouth, stifling a string of curse words threatening to get you in trouble by the volume of them. 

In no time he has you quivering and panting, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood to block out the loud moans and whines. Never in your life had anyone you slept with got you to the edge this quickly with just their fingers and mouth. You were thankful for the locked door as his obscene slurping got increasingly louder. It was like he didn’t care, too lost in pleasuring you to contain his noises. 

Your surroundings had gone blurry long ago, like your body was shutting down all unnecessary functions to just focus on this one delicious sensation between your legs. 

Every time you glance down your heart stops at the scene before you. 

Bob’s face red and glistening from sweat, eyes scrunched tight in concentration. When the lower half of his face isn't completely hidden by your mound, his nose peaks up and rests upon your pubic bone, extra wet with your juices. One hand rests between your legs, two long fingers stuffed inside your weeping hole, curling and massaging a spot even you have never found. While the other hand is wrapped around your thigh, the beds of his fingernails white with pressure as he grips the soft flesh of your leg, hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“Fuuuuck-” You whine quietly, one hand tangled in your hair while the other scrabbling at the sheets beneath you. The feeling in your belly was unmistakable, it had your chest heaving in quick breaths. It felt like he had been between your legs for hours, but when you glanced up at the clock by your bedside (it took you longer than you liked to figure out the time) it had only been about ten or so minutes since he had started. 

“Bobby-” The nickname slips out against your will, making him falter against your core. 

You can see that his long eyelashes are fluttering against his cheeks before he returns to the pace he set earlier, maybe even a little more restored with vigor as he groans against you. The vibrations send a zing straight to your belly button. 

“I’m close- fucking christ- I’m gonna cum-” You warn him almost seconds too late as your back snaps into an arch, the walls of your cunt pulsing around his still-moving fingers. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, only the faintest of guttural noises making themselves known as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

You know real life isn't like the porno films. It is never glamorous or pretty with flattering angles. Because of that knowledge you always were hyper-aware of how you looked and sounded, wanting to be the prettiest version of yourself always. But in this moment, you forgot everything and just allowed yourself to feel. 

It was earth-shattering, this amazing, otherworldly feeling all over your body. Bob was doing his best to draw it out, watching you with fascination. It did not even occur to him that your heels were digging into his back. 

Nor did you realize until the ringing in your ears stopped that he was talking to you, only catching the tail end of his words. 

“- at’s it, that's it. Good girl… fuck, so gorgeous.” Bob groaned into your thigh, watching you start to relax, slowing down the two fingers inside you to a light massage before slowly pulling out as if to not disturb you. Somehow, he had found that prominent scar on your left hip, stroking it lightly with his wet fingertips. 

Even through your haze, you whined at the loss and tried to lift your head up but you were completely boneless. You feel your legs being lifted off his shoulders and the bed dips next to you before Bob nuzzles his nose into your sweaty hairline, the smell of you all over his face.  

It makes you smile the tiniest bit, opening up your eyes to see him staring down at you, that glazed drunk look still on his face. 

You reach out in search for his dick, your hand coming in contact with his lower belly first. You know you have found your final destination when your hand brushes over something rock hard and Bob hisses, his hips bucking into your hand. 

“Want you to fuck me. Please?” You murmur up at him, palming his dick with more intention as he grinds his hips into your hand. He nods, looking down at you with searching eyes.

“Anything you want, baby.” 

The pet name makes your smile grow, directing him to the condoms stored away on the top drawer of your dresser, under your camisoles. It takes no time at all before he is stripped naked in front of you and rolling the condom onto his aching cock. It is so fast in fact that you don’t even process it till he is crowding over you. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna last long.” He admits sheepishly as you shift on the bed, trying to ignore how damp it feels with sweat. 

His words make you huff out a laugh, moving closer to the headboard so you can lay back on a pillow, “Bobby, I could care less how long you last.” It was more than the truth, he just gave you the most mind blowing orgasm of your life and that alone would probably satisfy you for the rest of the year. 

He crawls up after you, bracing himself on a hand beside your head, the other now swiping the head of his cock through your puffy folds. 

The sting of the stretch was basically nonexistent by how relaxed you were, enjoying the slow slide of his dick in you. As his strokes got quicker, Bob chose to lean down, now bracing himself on his forearms bracketing either side of your head. The friction only got better as you lifted your legs up and hooked your ankles around his back, the head of his dick now rubbing deliciously against the spot he stimulated earlier. 

To be honest, he lasted longer than you thought he would by the way he was acting. But soon his face crumpled and dropped into the crook of your neck, gasping against your sweaty skin while his hips snapped a few times but ultimately stilled while flush against you. 

Your nails traced designs into his back as he caught his breath, light tremors shaking his body as he returned from his high. 

The two of you said nothing but stayed how you were, inhaling the other’s scent peacefully. You could still hear people outside and in the kitchen of the house, but you were too far gone to really care. 

“Bobby?” You ask quietly, stilling your fingers on his back. 

“Hmm?” He mumbles from your shoulder, shifting to pepper a few kisses upon your neck. 

“What do you wear to bed? Are you a matching set kinda guy or do you just sleep in your underwear?” You smile, looking up at the ceiling, waiting for his answer. 

Bob answers after a short pause, “Matching set, why?”

Hope you enjoyed this! Check out my AO3 under Creatchie8 too!

[halfbakedideas]

idiot pancake: narrowly avoided

The Doctor nearly gets run over while crossing the road.

--x--x--x--

inspired by this post by @whatsfourteenupto.

crossing the road while being distracted by a phone like that is such me behaviour i died.

fourteen felt really off so this one took ages to finish. the other ones should be quicker.

--x--x--x--

The first mistake was The Doctor getting a phone. Okay, correction: a smartphone; because he did already have a phone, a flip phone. But now they had a smartphone too after a confusingly complicated series of events involving him, Rose, a bowl of pasta, and a TARDIS trip to 18th-century Italy that totally didn’t happen. It was a mistake because it made for moments like this one.

The Doctor had accompanied Shaun on his taxi routes today and the two of them had stopped for lunch. They had just finished and were heading back, having to cross the road to get back to Shaun’s taxi.

“Hey!” he reached out and snagged The Doctor’s arm, dragging them back to the curb, narrowly out of the way of another taxi that went screaming past them. “Watch out!”

His phone nearly went tumbling to the ground with how abruptly they were yanked backwards but he grabbed it just before it could.

“Oh. Thanks, Shaun,” they thanked, looking up and down the road.

“No problem. But don’t just cross whenever you want like that, otherwise I’ll have to scrape a skinny alien pancake off of the road to bring back to Donna and I really don’t want to have to face her wrath,” he told him.

They both laughed at that — Donna’s wrath was not something you wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“What are you even doing on that?” Shaun asked as The Doctor pocketed his phone. “And please don’t say negotiations with soup aliens or buying something from space Amazon,”

A delivery truck trundled past.

“Nah, Kerblam got shut down years ago. And Soupimals have already had their negotiations for this century, which are done on flip phones, not iPhones — how do you know about those?”

Shaun frowned, choosing not to comment on whatever ‘Kerblam’ was. “I don’t? Wait — are you being serious, soup alien negotiations are a real thing?”

The traffic finally let up enough for the two of them to cross the road. They got back in the taxi.

“Yes, they are. I mediated one once — I didn’t miss having short hair more than when I was picking out dried soup,”

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Shaun pointedly didn’t think about something. This one being the very obviously implied soup food fight with aliens that, unless he was wrong, were made of soup…

“What were you doing on your phone earlier?” he asked again, instead.

“Oh, I was texting myself — older self? Bigeneration? The one who’s just dealt with a spaceship full of babies,”

Of all of the things Shaun expected, their actual answer was really tame. But also: what.

“So, he’s got a phone too?”

“Fairly sure it’s the same one as this,” They pulled out their phone and held it up.

“…That shouldn’t be possible,”

The Doctor shrugged. “If the sonic can make phones connect across time and space, then it can make it so that the same one can communicate with itself in the past,”

He had a point, there.

“Next time,” Shaun started as he pulled the taxi out from the parking spot. “Don’t text and cross the road, if you get pancaked, Donna will slap me,”

“She’d do a lot worse than slap you,” The two of them chuckled at the very clear, and very likely, mental image.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Come on, it's just a few questions...." Lisa asked her girlfriend of six months, Hannah. Both were trans and hit it off immediately at a party, although Lisa seemed a bit too into social media for Hannah's liking sometimes.....

"But in front of all your followers? This is super embarrassing."

"It's not ALL of them, dummy.... just ten thousand or so."

"That's not much better!"

"Please? Come on. I promise it'll be fun!"

"OK....." Hannah pouted, looking at Lisa. "Is this some online quiz thing?"

"It's gone a bit viral..... So, first question. You answer, then I will! If you were offered a million dollars to detransition, would you?"

"What!? Um.....!!! No--well, could I retransition?"

"You have to totally detrans, though. Get your boobs removed, go through male puberty all the way, facial hair, deep voice, everything! Soooo, would you?"

"Ummmmm..... n-no! I wouldn't!"

"Really? I would.... no hesitation."

"Oh? Well you can have fun being a boy then." Hannah laughed.

"Mmmm, question two. If your family sat you down and said they want you to detransition asap, that they decided you should live as a boy, would you?"

"Ummmm, I mean.... my parents convinced me to start transitioning in the first place! My mom was pushing me to like the idea of being a girl since forever. If my mom really wanted me to be a boy.... I just don't see that happening!"

"Oooo, avoiding the question? I would. Of course. If my daddy told me, 'Pumpkin, you have to shoot that girly body of yours with T and become a man. Stop being a pervy girl already and just embrace manhood.... I'd SO do it.' I bet you would, if your mom and dad asked real nicely."

"Well.... maybe. It could be kind of fun I guess. I've always wanted my cock to be really big."

"Me, too! It sucks having such a tiny cock...."

"And, I mean..... my boobs gave me such bad dysphoria, by nineteen I had to get a reduction! Mine are so small now but I actually kind of want to go smaller....."

"Me, too! I never knew you got a reduction.... I thought I saw scars! Mmmmm, how big were they from all that estrogen mommy made you take?"

"I was a KK-Cup."

"Holy shit. I bet they were bigger than your head! Mine were a HH-Cup and it was unmanageable. I hated having such big boobs, always bouncing around and falling out of everything and--"

"They'd constantly be sweaty, like all the time. Bleh!"

Lisa laughed. "For real. I think you should go smaller, too. Maybe totally flat? I wanna get mine trimmed down from this still waaaay too big B-Cup to the smallest A possible. Was mommy upset when you got rid of those massive juggs of yours?"

"Not really..... I told her how dysphoric they made me feel. She understood and talked me into a C-Cup. I..... wanted to go flat right away."

"Mmmm, how many girls wanna go that small? And you want a big cock?"

Hannah blushed. "It's just a fantasy of mine...."

"Next question.... you get a new doctor and he doesn't renew your hrt. He puts you on testosterone and steroids to help bulk you up. Do you thank him, or tell him to get lost, and look for a new doctor?"

Hannah bowed her head. "I dunno..... if he really thought I shouldn't be transitioning..... I might just thank him and try out male puberty...."

"Oooo, good answer. Me, too! I'd fan myself and praise him for being so honest with poor, confused little me."

"My cock is so hard right now....." Hannah whispered.

"So's mine. All two inches of it....."

"Hey, lucky! I'm only one inch...."

"I bet you wish it was fourteen or fifteen inches, thick as your wrist!"

"Duh! I'd love to have one that big.... that's normal for a trans girl to say, right?"

Lisa giggled. "Suuuure.... OK. Last question. If your boyfriend told you to throw out your estrogen and start T injections, that you have to obey him and be a good boy, would you?"

Hannah moved in closer to Lisa, feeling up her thighs to her waist. "Well, of course I'd have to obey him. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't?" Both soon-to-be-boys started making out, ready to fuck before Lisa ended the stream, waiting to surprise Hannah later with their new prescriptions.....

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Danger Mouse

Group: Final

Prompts: Baby milestones. Panic, expect, ambition, compact. Treasure.

-

Baby Steps

“Belle!”

Belle looked up at the sound of her own name and saw Snow White crossing the street, a huge smile on her face.  When she arrived on the same side of the road she bent down, getting a better look into the stroller that Belle was pushing.  

“And Gideon!  Wow, I feel like it’s been forever since I last saw you.  Look at how big you’ve gotten!”  

“Yeah, he’s a little weed that’s for sure.” Belle smiled in return, looking down at her son.  “Hey Gid, do you want to say hi to Snow?”

“Oh, is he talking now?”  Snow looked up, then back at Gideon expectantly. 

“Well, no.  Not really.”  Belle shrugged.  “He babbles a lot, but nothing we can make out as actual words yet.”  

“Ah, I remember that stage.”  Snow nodded her head wryly.  “Neal babbled ‘dada’ when he was six months old and David absolutely insisted it counted as his first word.”

“What was his actual first word?”

“Dada.”  Snow laughed.  “When he was ten months he pointed directly at David and said it, so I had to concede the point.  He said ‘mama’ soon after though, so I didn’t feel too left out.”  

“Rumple thinks that Gideon will say ‘mama’ first but I’m not so sure.”

“Well, I’m sure you won’t have to wait too long to find out. He’s what?  Fourteen months now?  How is he with walking?  Has he taken his first steps yet?”  

“No, not yet.”  Belle kept her smile on her face with effort.  “He crawls a bit, but generally prefers to stay put and play with whatever he has around him.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”  Snow stood back up to her full height and addressed Belle directly.  “Neal was an early walker and budding escape artist. I’d turn my back for half a second and he’d be gone.  I longed for the days when I could set him down somewhere and know he’d stay put!”  

“Sounds like he was a bit of a handful.”  

“Very much so,” Snow agreed.  “But totally worth it.”   

“Oh, definitely.”  Belle smiled down at Gideon fondly.  

“Well, I’ve gotta run but it was great to see you.”  Snow took a step back.  “And I hope you’re coming to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow.”  

“Oh, right.”  Belle shook her head at herself.  “I’d completely forgotten about that.  But, sure, I’ll ask Rumple but I don’t think we have any plans.”

“Great!  See you there!”  

*

When Rumplestiltskin returned from the shop that evening he smiled at the sound of the voices of his wife and child drifting through from the living room.  Moving slowly he peeked around the door frame to see them both sat on the floor, Belle with a compact set of flashcards in her hand.

“Ooh, look at this one, Gideon.  Camel.  Ca-mel.”

“Ab-da!  Ba!”  

“And here’s a crocodile.  Croc-o-dile.”  

“La-do.  Hee.”  Gideon reached out to bat away the card.  

“All right, not a fan of crocodiles I see. How about an armadillo?  Can you say ‘armadillo’?”

“Lo!”

“Yes, armadillo!”

Rumplestiltskin decided now was a good time to make his presence known.  “Expecting our son’s first word to be ‘armadillo’ is a tad ambitious, don’t you think?”  

Belle and Gideon both turned to him, beaming smiles on their faces. 

“Rumple!  Hi, we didn’t hear you come in.”  Belle pushed herself up on her knees enough to receive the kiss he leaned down to bestow on her lips as he walked up to her.  “How was your day?”

“The usual.”  He sat in the nearby armchair, close enough to reach out and stroke Gideon’s head, as Belle settled back down.  “How about you two?  Did you and Mama have a good day, Gideon?”  

“We did, didn’t we?”  Belle addressed Gideon before looking up at Rumplestilskin.  “We went to the park and Gideon saw the ducks.  Then on the way back we ran into Snow White.”

“Oh?”  Rumplestiltskin kept his voice casual.  He knew his wife well enough to pick up on the way her demeanour shifted slightly when she mentioned Snow’s name.  “What did she want?”

“She was asking about Gideon.  If he’s talking and walking yet and telling me how early Neal did both of those things.”  Yes, there was a definite note of dejection in her voice now.  

“She upset you,” Rumplestitlskin growled, thinking of all the ways he could make the princess’s life miserable.

“No!”  Belle hurried to reassure him.  “I mean, not on purpose.  She just wanted to talk about babies with someone she felt could relate.  And I get that, I do. I just worry about how long Gideon is taking to reach those milestones.”

“Hey.”  His voice was soft as he stood, gently pulling her to her feet as well and holding her arms carefully.  “Remember that veritable library of baby books you bought?  I know you read every single one of them. What did they all say?”

“That all babies are different and develop at their own rate.” 

“Exactly.  It’s not a race, sweetheart.  Gideon is doing fine.”

“I know.  I know.  I guess I just…”

“What?  Expected him to be a genius who developed faster than all the other babies because he’s our son?”

“No!  Well, maybe a little.”  She turned away in embarrassment before meeting his eyes again, looking almost guilty.  “But it’s not just that.  Sometimes I wonder, what if it’s me?  What if I’m not doing something I should be doing, or, or doing something wrong and stifling his development somehow?”

“Belle.”  Rumplestiltskin stared intently into her eyes, wanting to make sure she was paying attention to what he was about to say.  “Listen to me.  You are a wonderful mother.  Gideon is happy and healthy and that’s what matters.  If he’s a bit late in developing then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we have plenty of time before that stage.  He’s doing fine.”

They both turned to where Gideon was still sitting on the floor, babbling away to a couple of stuffed animals.

“You’re right.”  Belle smiled in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, before reaching down to pick up their son.  “You’re doing fine, aren’t you Gid?”  

“Ba-da!”  He thrust the toy giraffe in his hand towards her face.

“For me?”  Belle took it with a smile.  “Thank you, Gideon.”  

“Ahhh!  Ba!”  Gideon reached out and Belle handed the giraffe back to him.  

“By the way, thanks for finding that.” Belle turned her head towards Rumplestiltskin.  “Where was it in the end?”

“Hmm?  Where was what?”  

“His giraffe.  I couldn’t find it anywhere yesterday morning, but he had it today.  I thought you must have found it.”  

“Not that I can recall, but then he does have a lot of toys.”  He gestured at the cluttered living room.  “It was probably just hidden under something else.”  

“Maybe.”  Belle frowned as she looked around .  “I thought I checked though.  Oh, before I forget, Snow wanted to know if we’re going to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed.  “Seems a strange thing to celebrate when we’re not even from this land.”

“Gideon is,” Belle pointed out.  “And I think it would be fun for him.  I can take him on my own if you’re not interested.”  

“No, no.  I’d much rather spend the day with you two.  As long as you don’t expect me to engage in any activities.”

“I think you’ll be safe,” Belle laughed.  “You can use Gideon as a handy excuse.”    

*

The Fourth of July dawned warm and sunny.  Rumplestiltskin watched in fond amusement as Belle slathered their son in SPF 50 before dressing him in a sun suit and floppy hat, then added two more bottles of sunscreen to her purse.  

When they arrived at the celebrations, his wife made a bee-line for a picnic table under the shade of a large tree, claiming the whole area with the stroller and bags she had brought.  Taking a seat facing outwards towards the square she held Gideon in her lap so he could watch the goings on around them.  

“Hey, guys!”  Ruby Lucas came bounding over once they had settled in, smiling widely at the family before focusing all her attention on Gideon.  “And hey, little man!  Great to see you!  Will you be joining our treasure hunt today?”

She reached into the bucket she was carrying and produced a plastic golden doubloon, waving it in front of Gideon’s face, causing him to laugh in delight.

“What treasure hunt is this?”  Belle asked.

“I’ve hidden a load of these around the square,” Ruby replied, handing the coin to Belle, “for the kids to find.  They can exchange them at Granny’s stall for cookies and treats or save them up for bigger prizes.”  

“Sounds fun,” Belle said, examining the coin while Gideon tried to grab it from her.  “But I think Gideon would prefer to watch from the sidelines, wouldn’t you Gid?”  

“Of course.”  Ruby winked at them, taking the coin back.  “Well I hope you have a good day, and enjoy the rest of the celebrations.”

Gideon reached out as she turned to leave, grumbling slightly.  

“Aw, it’s all right, Gideon.”  Belle bounced him softly.  “You’ll see Auntie Ruby again soon.”  

Gideon’s grumbling only increased, so Belle shifted him slightly to address Rumplestiltskin over his head.  “He might be hungry.  Can you grab his snacks from the back of the stroller?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, doing as she asked, and looked up again in time to see her addressing a somewhat calmer Gideon.  

“Here we go Gideon, are you hungry?  Oh, what have you got there?”  Her brow furrowed in confusion as she lifted his hand, finding a small gold coin clenched in his fist.  

“Now where did that come from, hmm?”  Belle asked as she gently prised it from his grip.  “Did you take it from Auntie Ruby’s bucket when I wasn’t looking?”

“Ba!”  Gideon smiled and reached out for it.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t want you putting that in your mouth.  Here.”  Belle put the coin down before reaching into the packet Rumplestiltskin handed her.  “Would you like a yummy veggie straw instead?”

Gideon took the snack she offered and proceeded to throw it straight onto the ground.

“Guess not,” Belle laughed, leaning down to pick it up.  “Bit wasteful there, Gideon… Wait, how did you get that again?”

The coin was back in his hand and Belle took it with a shake of her head.  “I know I put that out of your reach.”

Rumplestiltskin winced, knowing his wife was not going to react well to what he had to say next.

“Sweetheart?”  He paused, waiting for her to look at him.  “Don’t be alarmed, but I think it’s possible that Gideon has been using magic.”

“What?  No, he can’t.  He’s…”  Belle trailed off as she looked down in time to see the coin vanish from her hand and reappear in Gideon’s.  “Oh.”  

*

Belle’s mind was whirling as she packed up, ignoring the concerned glance Ruby threw their way, before pushing the stroller back to their house.  She could hear Rumplestiltskin behind her but he didn’t say anything until they got inside.  

“Belle, sweetheart.  It’s all right.  Don’t panic.”  

“Don’t panic?  Our baby has magic!  How am I not supposed to panic?”  She picked Gideon up from the stroller, examining his face as though she could find answers there.  “The books didn’t prepare me for this!”

“Really? ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ doesn’t have a chapter on Baby’s First Magic?” he quipped.

“Stop it!  This is serious.  How are you being so calm about it?  How is this even possible?”

“He’s the son of the Dark One and the product of True Love.  He was always going to be exceptional.”  Rumplestiltskin said proudly as he stepped closer, running his hand over the back of Gideon’s head.   

“Yeah, I knew he would be capable of magic.  That he could harness it in the future when he’s able to understand what he’s doing.” Belle felt her voice rising and made an effort to lower it.  “But he’s only a baby.  How are we supposed to get him to control his powers when I can barely stop him putting peas up his nose?”

“I have an idea about that,” Rumplestiltskin began cautiously.  “Do you remember the magic-inhibitor cuff?  Well, I’ve been working on something similar for Gideon, more appropriate for his size.”

“Wait, you knew this was going to happen?”  Belle pulled back in shock.  “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”  

“Only that it was a possibility.  I didn’t know for certain until today.  And I didn’t see any point in worrying you unnecessarily when it might never happen.”

“Right, well, in the future I would like to be informed of the possibility of our son developing magical powers before he starts pickpocketing people at town events,” she hissed.  

“To be fair, Ruby did invite him to join in the treasure hunt.”  Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

“It’s not funny!” Belle snapped.  “What if he’d choked on it?  Or what if this had happened when we were at Granny’s and he decided he wanted a closer look at a shiny steak knife?”  

Rumplestiltskin frowned, apparently not having considered that.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”  He looked down before kissing her head and she softened at his obvious contrition.  “Would you like to try the cuff?”

“I don’t see what other choice we have.”  She looked at him in the hopes he might have another suggestion.  “Do you?”  

“Well, I suppose I could try baby-magic-proofing the house.  But I can’t extend that to the whole town.”

“And I don’t want to turn Gideon into a shut-in, afraid to let him interact with people.”  Belle sighed then nodded, her decision made.  “Yes, get the cuff.”  

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand, a baby-sized cuff appearing in his palm.  

Belle eyed it warily, feeling a pang of anxiety despite her earlier words.  “It won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Of course not.  All it will do is suppress his magic.  Hey, Gideon.”  He smiled at his son, who was eyeing the cuff with interest.  “Would you like to wear this?”

Gideon smiled and waved his arm, the cuff disappearing from Rumplestilskin’s hand and into his own.

“Clever boy,”  Rumplestiltskin smiled.  “Shall we put it on you?”

“Ado!”  Gideon threw the cuff on the floor, giving his father a toothy grin..  

“Sorry, son.  That’s what we call a rhetorical question,” Rumplestiltskin chuckled, picking up the cuff and fastening it gently around Gideon’s wrist. “There you go.  It’s only for a little while, and when you’re older I’ll teach you all about magic.”

“Gick!”  

“Yes, Gideon.  Magic.”  Belle smiled, bouncing him softly in her arms.  “Papa will teach you all about magic.”

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon laughed, clapping his hands.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin looked at each other in wonder.

“Did he…?” Belle whispered.  

“I think he did.”  

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon repeated, grinning.

“That’s my boy!”  Rumplestiltskin beamed.  “Now make your mother happy and say ‘armadillo’ next.”  

-

[bestworstcase]

I have a question about some of your Salem thoughts

If Salem is 110% certain that she can take down the Gods (assuming that's her goal since we don't actually know), why wouldn't she communicate her plan to Oz? Especially if she truly doesn't want anyone to die like you say. Oz would jump at the bit if Salem said "Hey I want to stop fighting" since that would mean their shadow war would stop. I really don't think Oz likes the Gods either, and even if he's afraid of them, if *Salem* is that confident she can stop them (she's far from an idiot), I'm sure he'd at least hear her out (which would tell Salem a LOT).

If she's that confident and truly doesn't want to fight, why wouldn't she tell Oz her new plan? And why would she kickstart her plan by attacking the kingdoms/Academies? Surely she could find a way to steal the Relics without flat out attacking them (like sending in double agents to take the Maiden powers)? Like... she would've known she'd get people killed, including children and innocent people. Even if she did damage control (which I think is just strategic, why bother going after people if she's focusing on the Relics? She's not gonna waste precious time and resources), she surely knew people would get caught in the crossfire.

Don't get me wrong, I like what you bring to the table!! Your posts are thought provoking and unique. But I can't see Salem being somehow secretly good. I don't think the show is setting her up that way, and I think she's a fantastic villain, so from my own perspective, doing that kind of twist would be a disservice to her character. I don't think she's inhuman or a complete and total monster who should go, but she's definitely not a good person especially if she can't communicate that she supposedly doesn't want people dead. She seems to be an "the ends justify the means" kind of person, and the show I think has stated that that isn't a good mindset i.e. Ironwood.

Sorry, I rambled and completely strayed from my point 😅 I don't mean to be mean if I come across that way. I hope my ask is interesting or thought provoking though :P

my position is that salem is right, not that she’s secretly good—that is an important distinction. i think she sees the gods clearly for what they are, thinks the divine ultimatum repulsive and unjust, wants remnant to be free, and believes that humanity is transcendent over their creators; she also, quite plainly, does not have any compunction about doing whatever it takes to achieve her ends and while i do think she is still fully capable of and driven by love, she is so TERRIFIED of being hurt again and so CERTAIN that no one could ever care for her that when she does care for someone else it comes out in very, very twisted and often cruel ways. she’s not good, she’s not nice, she’s just right.

equally the heroes are good but not right, because they have yet to really grapple with the premise of the divine mandate (that humanity as it exists right now does not deserve to exist) or their own role in upholding it (their immediate goal is survival, but when they envision the ending of this war they imagine salem driven back and the relics squirreled away again in hope of at best everlasting stalemate). the point of structuring the narrative this way is that neither side can get to the proverbial good ending alone; they need to work together, salem’s ends with the heroes’ means.

like. she’s evil. lol. that’s not in question and i think it goes without saying that she is doing evil things so i don’t feel the need to make a “but she’s still evil though” disclaimer every time i try to tease out what’s going on in her head. notice how my reaction to salem razing vale was OH GLINDA LAYS SIEGE TO THE EMERALD CITY, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW and not, like, shock or dismay that salem would do such a terrible thing. brgdfjs

(i DO think she has mostly been trying to avoid ozma and not reciprocating the shadow crusade against her prior to about fourteen years ago and that she isn’t about wanton destruction or killing for the sake of it; and in that sense i think she’s not as bad as the general fanon reading. but that comes with the territory of thinking she has actual reasons for doing what she does as opposed to being, like, a genocidal lunatic.)

anyway. to your questions. the short answer is she’s just as scared of oz as he is of her.

“but he’s the good one!”—think about this from her perspective for a minute. set aside your opinion of her and oz, presuppose for the moment that i’m correct on her motivations, and consider what everything ozma’s done in the last few thousand years looks like to her.

she knows that the gods were monsters. she witnessed them slaughtering the whole world and she saw how little it mattered to them after. she was alone for millions of years, and then hated and feared for thousands of years because she didn’t look human. all that suffering because the gods are punishing her for praying to them. yes?

then ozma returns to her, somehow. he doesn’t explain how or why—maybe he tells her he just doesn’t know—but that’s alright. what matters is that he’s here. he asks what happened to her, and she tells him the truth: the gods ended the world. cursed her. killed everyone. she was alone for so long. (maybe not the whole truth: there are things she’s afraid to say, because the gods did it all to punish her, and it’s her fault, and she’s so scared that he’d despise her if he knew everything. the only reason for her to fear ozma would reject her is if she blamed herself. you don’t hide things out of shame if you don’t feel ashamed of them.)

they learn each other again. fall in love all over again. things are finally okay. they fix up her house. they’re happy together. one day ozma tells her that he’s worried about how divided people are. she wants so badly to make him happy; she would move mountains for him. salem herself has no interest in ruling over people as a god—if she did, she wouldn’t have been living alone in a rotting shack in the middle of nowhere—all that enthusiasm is for him. to support what he wants.

they build a following, found a prosperous kingdom, start a family. four children! how long do you think they were married—ten years? twenty? and the whole time, the whole time, ozma was keeping these secrets from her. that the god of light, who’d condemned her to eternal suffering for praying to his brother, who’d shown utter indifference to the deaths of millions, had sent him back to redeem humanity FROM HER SINS, from what SALEM did. that the point of all this is cleansing humankind of her defiance and inviting THAT MONSTER to remnant to judge whether this world deserved to be subjugated under the brothers’ tyranny again or else be put to death.

imagine how she must have felt when ozma finally told her the truth, knowing that the first thing she told him was that the gods ended the last one. imagine the sickening realization that their whole marriage is built on a lie, because she would never, ever, ever have agreed to help him unite the world if she had known what he sought to unite them for, and ozma knew she never would. that he deceived her! manipulated her into serving the will of a god she knows to be a monster!

and even then—even to the very end—she loved him enough to try. she was willing to forgive all of that and figure out a way to move past it together, and the only thing she asked was that he walk away from his task of submitting this world to the judgment of THAT MONSTER. and he wouldn’t do it.

there’s a gap we don’t get to see, in between ozma backing away from her and salem catching him leaving with the girls, but we can infer that ozma walked out of that room and salem didn’t. imagine how she felt. ten years, twenty years, however long it was, and he was lying to her through it all, and he left her with hardly a moment’s hesitation when she refused to help him enact THAT MONSTER’S retribution against herself. because that is, ultimately, what this is all about; humanity is found guilty by association with her.

imagine how she felt. used. worthless. duped. like a fool for ever trusting him. did he ever love her at all, or was that a lie, too?

when she caught him in the hallway later that night, they both attack each other in the same instant. ozma remembers her attacking him first, but their volleys meet in perfect symmetry and right before salem throws her first bolt of magic, her eyes flicker down in surprise as she tracks the motion of his staff (which we see in the previous shot)—salem remembers him attacking her first.

because they were both so tense and scared and angry at each other that they snapped in exactly the same moment.

their battle is so intense they blow up the castle, and when the smoke clears, salem is a pile of ash. ash! he incinerated her! imagine how enraged you have to be to burn someone to ash. that level of fury, of absolute hatred of her, is literally burnt into her memory as the last thing he did to her before she managed to kill him, inextricably twisted around the guilt and unbearable grief she feels for her children.

he’s dedicated all but a handful of his lives since then to getting rid of her. finding a way to destroy her. (how far is he willing to go? what would happen if salem tried to move on, find community and solace somewhere far away from him? would he come after her? would he follow his god’s example and go after the people she cared about to punish her? is she willing to risk that he might?)

do you think salem understands why ozma did any of this? she doesn’t. she doesn’t get the luxury we do of jinn narrating his side of the story and showing us the anguish he felt, wanting so desperately to be with salem but eaten alive by terror of dooming the world for his happiness. she doesn’t know.

all she knows is how he treated her: the secrets, the deception, the manipulation, the immediate and absolute rejection when she told him no, the explosively violent anger at the end, then centuries upon centuries systematically erasing her from history and enforcing her exile whilst searching for the relics he needs to summon his god for the final judgment. which she knows will inevitably end in the annihilation of the whole world and yet more torture for her with no hope of reprieve, because if all of this was not enough to satisfy the god of light’s grudge against her for, again, just praying to his brother, nothing ever will.

salem feels about ozma now the way blake felt about adam. why did he lie to her, why did he use her, why does he keep coming back, why won’t he just LEAVE HER ALONE, hasn’t she suffered enough, hasn’t she been punished enough, when will it be enough—and intertwined with that, she is being EATEN ALIVE by the conviction that no one could ever truly care about her or feel for her or want to help her or think that she deserves help or even just see her as a person, because if ozma—ozma, the one who saved her from her father’s tower, who knew her and loved her before all of this happened—if ozma thought her so worthless that he would rather serve a god who ended the last world and promises to condemn this one too than suffer her to exist at all in this world, why the fuck would anyone else be any different?

thousands of years later, she still flies off the handle when anyone lies to her. (except cinder. but cinder is always the exception, to every rule.) there’s a reason she recruits the kind of people she does—desperate, broken, angry people starving for something she can promise to give them if they make themselves useful to her—and it’s because she does not believe that she can get anything better than strictly transactional relationships with people who have literally nothing and nowhere else to turn. and when she actually cares about someone? she fights herself tooth and claw over it because she desperately doesn’t want to open herself up to more heartbreak. look at how erratic and cruel she is with cinder.

it’s not rational. salem is smart and very, very tactically shrewd but she is making all of her plans and all of her choices from the assumption that she is and will always be alone in this, because she is unlovable, because she is worthless, because she is the reason this world is damned. and she’s terrified of ozma because to her everything he does suggests that his conviction and dedication to the god of light has never wavered. she cannot see his doubt. she cannot see his misery. she cannot see how much he misses her and desperately wants to make amends. all she can see is that he’s zealously guarding the relics and spreading his god’s word and training children to fight and die in the name of keeping her exiled.

why doesn’t ozma just go to her and tell her he wants to make amends? because he’s terrified she’ll never forgive him and terrified that he’ll damn the world to annihilation if he follows his heart. they’re the same. they’re exactly the same.

but this is also what makes it so possible—even easy—for salem to undergo a villain-to-hero arc, because the only thing that needs to happen is a spark of real hope. that someone, anyone, could really care about her. like. the things she says in her soliloquies about the transformative power of hope? “even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change,” and “it’s true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary…”—that’s her. one small reason to hope. that is all she needs to change.

she doesn’t want to be razing kingdoms to the ground or cutting a bloody path through children to get those relics. she is willing to do it because she truly, genuinely, from the depths of her soul believes that it’s the only way to free herself from the torture she’s been subjected to for millions of years. she’s driven to this by desperation. she won’t keep doing it if she’s given a reason to feel less desperate.

but she does need to be given a reason, first. she’s hemorrhaging. this is why the winnowing of her inner circle and the split between everyone else in vacuo versus salem + cinder + summer in vale is important; Those Two are the ones she cares about—technically we don’t know for sure regarding summer yet, but the level of trust she has for the lieutenant holding beacon is suggestive—and that being reciprocated is what ignites her hope.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

Hello. Anon from earlier.

Since you've already uncovered my plan (that I obviously tried very hard to hide), I figured I'd try to save myself some research (aka hours and hours of rereading).

And so, questions.

Of course, I do not want you to go to too much trouble, but I am wondering if you have a list or something of what injuries Donnie and Leo sustained at what points, and uh...bandages and other medical stuff, as well as the state of their masks and armour and stuff, that would be super helpful.

Oh! Also. I feel like my brain is making stuff up, because I felt like the part where Big Mama threw Leo in the cell with Viper was like, a full scene, but I can't find it, just the summary in the next chapter. But, that's just a little side tangent. Uh...Leo's other marking. What exactly did she do to them?

Continuing the little tangent, I absolutely loved the detail of Leo hearing Donnie calling out to him. When I read it, I was still kind of in denial, but at the same time, Donnie had been calling Leo's name when Viper hurt him the first time, so it makes sense that he'd imagine it. So I rationalized that in my mind, and then broke when it was revealed that Donnie was actually calling him. Very well played. The details like that are my favourite part of this fic~

Hello again, Anon! Absolutely wonderful timing on the ask, as getting to talk about Spiders Web always cheers me up.

I have been WAITING for this day! MONTHS ago I made a table of physical and emotional damage as well as treatments in order to attempt to keep track of the violence. FINALLY I GET TO USE IT!

Be prepared for kinda blurry pictures and long (medically inaccurate) rants below! HAHAHAHAAA!

Not proper grammar and not in chronological order, but the info should be there. I may have missed some stuff because sometimes I improvise, but I think that should be all.

I am also not a medical professional in any way, shape, or form, so I have no clue how accurate any of this stuff is.

ALSO, I know this whole list can be overwhelming so it's totally okay if you don't want to show every scratch and scrape. But if you want to, go right ahead!

Bandages/medical stuff - Just assume that in any point in time either of the twins have at least one red bandage on them at any given time from chapter seven to fourteen. I think. I think Big Mama just kinda stopped giving Astros bandages, and Tyrian didn't fight at all from when we died until the Labyrinth Lollapalooza.

Armor (what it looks like can be found HERE) - hooo boyyy.... I didn't keep track of the armor quite as much. Up until chapter fourteen, Donnie's battleshell kept getting more and more beat up. I think at some point some of the panels came out. Leo's blue scarf would get bloodstained and dirty after fights, but he'd rinse it out in the shower so it was relativly clean? Just torn and ragged as time went on. I think the kneepads would be scuffed up, but other than that their armor would look fine. I never found a place to mention it, but bellhops would come around and collect their armor for cleaning/replacing between fights. The fighters may have been damaged but Big Mama wanted their armor to be nice and shiny under the spotlights.

As for masks, Leo lost his to Viper. Donnie's was taken after Heinous Green bashed his head in (Big Mama thought it best that her champions matched. And also in case she needed some of Donnie's DNA for nefarious purposes). I am also now realizing that @drsmer and I never showed you guys what their masks for the final fight looked like... hmm....

Big Mama threw Leo in a cell with Viper near the end of chapter 16. I didn't actually describe the time in there with Viper, and only detailed the aftermath. I thought it best to let y'all's imagination take over for that one.

Leo's other markings (the ones on his arms and legs) just had the top part sliced into. I think.

OOO fun behind the scenes time! I decided that their cells were next to each other and that they could hear each other by complete accident. I was writing near two friends who read the fic but didn't know Donnie was alive (love ya dear, @rocky-again and @danger-noodle4 ), and one friend who has not watched Rise but DID know that Donnie was alive because I talk a lot.

This piece of writing below is a LIVE REACTION of me mapping out the chapter in a notes document and then realizing that in the layout of the Nexus, their cells would be next to each other and they could hear each other.

Because even I am not immune to angst, I started silently freaking out but couldn't tell the two turtle fan friends about it, so I had to write it out to Kate to make her UNDERSTAND how ANGSTY it was.

It must have been quite the scene. Sorry for the long story, but thought you should know the fun origins of the very angsty detail.

Alrighty, I hope I answered all of your questions! If you need anything else, don't hesitate to send me another ask. I wish you well on your endeavors, whatever they may be 👀

[c-is-for-circinate]

On one hand, there's definitely more of this to be written, and possibly even more of this scene.

On the other hand, posting now means it gets posted at all, and I also happen to think that the place where it ends is very, very funny.

In short: Dustin is a smart kid with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, he knows this about himself, which is also his greatest flaw. Set somewhere between Stranger Things S3 and S4.

---

Dustin shows up at Family Video on a Wednesday night. Steve never works Wednesday nights -- slow enough that Keith can spare him, late enough in the week that most girls are actually wiling to consider it a date night. He's seeing the second Nightmare on Elm Street movie, which Dustin is maybe a little annoyed about because it's only been out for a week and the Party needs Steve to get them into R-rated movies, he knows that. But Steve just said something about horror movies being essential opportunities for girls to cuddle in close so you can protect them, and completely ignored Dustin's totally reasonable comments about how Steve is the one to freak out at jumpscares most of the time when he watches horror movies with them, and went anyway.

Which is so stupid, because there's literally nothing real to protect a girl from in a horror movie. Steve has literally protected Robin from actual Soviet torture, with his actual face. Dustin saw him through that concussion! Dustin knows perfectly well that Steve probably drew the Russians' attention on purpose the whole time he and Robin were in there!

And somehow, he and Robin still aren't dating. If that isn't enough, then Dustin really doesn't see how putting an arm around a girl to save her from Freddy Krueger is going to do any better.

So Dustin bikes his way to Family Video, in the dark because it's November in Indiana, and when he gets there he folds his arms on the counter and gives Robin his brightest, most patient smile. She takes one look at him and rolls her eyes.

"He's not here right now," she informs him. "So if you want to badger him into renting you an R-rated movie, you're going to have to come back tomorrow, I'm not your babysitter and I'm not doing it."

Dustin just keeps grinning at her. Broadly.

"You know, Robin, we never talk," he says. Robin groans.

"Oh god, what now?" she asks. "And get off the counter, Keith's in the back and if he sees you he'll throw a fit."

"Keith is taking a nap back there and we both know it," Dustin scoffs. As if he doesn't know Keith's habits. "He only ever comes out of the back when Steve's working because he likes to make Steve do menial tasks while Keith hits on the hot girls that he thinks come in here because Steve's working."

"Fine, whatever, it's creepy that you know that," Robin sighs. "What do you want?"

"So I've been talking to Steve," Dustin says. "You know, our friend Steve. Pretty face, good hair, excellent reviews on the kissing front."

"Ew," says Robin. "Ew, no, you're twelve, don't talk about Steve kissing. Don't talk about Steve kissing at all!"

"Excuse me, one, I'm fourteen years old, I am in high school, where I just saw you earlier today, so it's not like you're that much older than me," Dustin says. "Two, if we don't talk about kissing Steve, how are we going to get you two over this weird little speedbump you're having where you're somehow not dating yet?"

Robin groans again. It's louder this time, and she also tips her head back to the sky while she does it. Dustin waits patiently.

"I'm not going to date Steve," she says. "Please stop bugging him about this, it's not going to happen. I don't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, can you please just let this goooooo." She groans the last word, drawing it out like Mike when his mom tries to make him clean his room.

"Not until I see you two happy," Dustin says firmly, unmoved thanks to many years of being friends with Mike. "Steve is one of my best friends, and not only are you his other best friend, we've been through the heat of battle together, which means you're my friend too. I want both of you to be happy, and clearly there's nothing you like more than spending time together--"

"Yeah, because we're friends, Dustin, that's what friends do," she says, but Dustin has proof.

"Friends don't have to get jobs working at the same retail store even after their old one burned down," he begins.

"We're good coworkers and otherwise he'd have to break in a whole new set of coworkers who haven't had to deal with Dustin Henderson already for months," she says.

"You work well together, you compliment each other, you already get along with his other friends..."

"Not sure if 'getting along' is the right phrase right now," Robin mutters. Dustin ignores her.

"He's always giving you rides places, he's literally left a date to give you rides on multiple occasions --"

"Like he doesn't do the same for you!"

"Robin," Dustin says pityingly. "Leaving a date? When it's not the end of the world?" It's so obvious how much Steve likes her. Dustin's never seen him act like this with anybody since Nancy. Not that it's exactly the same as Steve used to act with Nancy, but clearly that's just because he's had time to grow and mature, and Robin's better than Nancy for him anyway. She keeps him from stressing out too much. "Driving you to school every morning even though he couldn't even get there on time most days when he was a student himself?"

"I don't have a license!"

"You really don't have to worry about it," Dustin says. "I happen to know for a fact that Steve would date you in an instant if you said yes."

Well. A strongly-supported scientific theory, anyway, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, it should be enough to get Robin spilling whatever self-doubt she's bottling up -- she's too nerdy, Steve only dates slutty cheerleader girls, whatever -- so Dustin can explain to her all the ways she's wrong, and they'll finally be taken care of.

"And I happen to know for a fact that he wouldn't, so how about you take the word of the person he's actually not dating and drop it?" Robin demands. She sounds on the verge of actually upset with him.

"But why?" Dustin demands right back. Which is really the crux of it, isn't it? Dustin has been asking the world why at every turn for fourteen solid years, and he has never let it back down without a fight.

"Steve likes you! You're at least as pretty as all those other girls, and it can't just be that you don't think you're cool enough for him, because lest we forget, the last time he was actually in love instead of just being kind of easy for any girl to look his way twice was with Nancy Wheeler, who is by definition a nerd!" Dustin lays his most damning evidence out rapid-fire, taking down Robin's arguments even if she hasn't made them yet. "He's a hot guy! He's kind of a catch! You're a cool girl! You actually like him back! What is the problem here!"

"Not every guy likes every girl just because they're a girl!" Robin fires back at him. "Not every girl is attracted to every guy! And you know, the fact that you think that is insulting and reductive, when some guys and girls don't even like girls or guys at all, and what would Suzie think, Dustin? What would Suzie think if she heard that you think every guy should date every girl he's friends with just because he's friends with her?"

"First of all, Suzie thinks you and Steve are destined to live happily ever after once he saves you in another bold act of heroism," Dustin informs her. Obviously. "Second of all, what do you mean, some guys don't like girls and girls don't like guys?"

And then Robin gets a look on her face. Dustin might have let it go, if Robin hadn't gotten that look on her face.

It's a split second of sheer panic. Robin ducks away from him, turns back to the Family Video checkout computer like she's trying to be casual, but her hands are anxious, picking up a stack of videos just to put them down, and she's not looking at him, and Dustin saw it. Dustin saw.

"It's just a thing, that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asks. "You can't just assume you know what somebody wants, that just because two people are both attractive they're going to want each other. You don't want to date Max, right?"

"Actually, yeah, I had a crush on Max when we first met, and I reconciled myself to her choice of Lucas in favor of slightly strained friendship until I discovered the love of my life in Suzie," Dustin informed her. "Much like Steve reconciled himself to Nancy's choice of Jonathan, until he met you and suddenly started spending all of his time with you. And anyway that's not what you said, you said that some guys don't like girls at all, which sounds like you're talking about gay people, which doesn't even..." Except that Dustin's thoughts are starting to catch up with his words, and he's trailing off, because. Because holy shit.

Steve dates so many girls. So many! He's constantly hitting on them and striking out, almost like he's just going through the motions, like he's not even trying except for appearances' sake. Even when he goes on actual dates they never last more than once or twice. And he's been doing it like that since high school, exactly like that. He's blown off dates to give Robin rides places. He's blown off dates to give Dustin rides places. He once blew off a date to sit in Mike Wheeler's basement and doze off on the couch while the Party spent three hours building D&D characters for their first-ever Hellfire Club campaign.

And Nancy? Nancy Wheeler, who Steve was totally in love with, except that according to Mike they started having problems basically as soon as the very first demogorgon fight was over and didn't stop for the next full year? Nancy who left him for Jonathan, who Steve is still friends with. Steve and Jonathan are better friends now than they were before he and Nancy broke up. Or at least they were before the Byers left for California, anyway, and that's basically the same thing, Jonathan was probably Steve's best friend actually his own age before he met Robin which was really sad, actually, but--

Steve getting super close with Robin after getting dosed with Russian drugs that were meant to make them tell the truth! Robin and Steve acting like they knew a secret that they couldn't tell anybody else or else!! Robin swearing up and down to the ends of the earth that she knows Steve doesn't want to date her for a mysterious reason she can't and won't explain!!!

"What, no, who said anything about gay people?" Robin is babbling, collecting more and more videos in her hands like a nervous D&D player who thinks hoarding dice is going to save them from a red dragon, but Dustin ignores her. "I just meant that attraction is complicated, and--"

"Holy shit," Dustin breathes. "Holy shit, is Steve Harrington gay?"

Robin drops the tapes.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Oh my gosh! How have I just found this amazing tumblr? Please can I ask for any prompt from the AU in which they’re surgeons? Maybe domestic with their child or building to the ‘I love you?’ and maybe anything extra from 🐸?

[lil smth w their kiddo from surgeons au]

//

'hello, little dr. choi-silva.'

you roll your eyes with a laugh. 'hey, aunt cam.'

sometimes, when your moms are on overlapping shifts, you'll come to the hospital from school when you don't have violin or judo or tennis or something planned with your friends; you're old enough now to take the train, and they always let you hang out in the attendings lounge while you do your homework or watch something on your phone.

your aunt camila — a very fancy researcher, as you've come to understand as you got older, mostly because you've known her as your funny, kind, cool aunt since you were little — sits down next to you at the table.

'oh cool, trig. my favorite part of ninth grade.'

'ew.'

'hey, you can't drag math that much. i do all kinds of cool things with it, and your mom and i —'

'yeah, yeah, stem cells and rebuilding severed spinal cords. blah blah.'

'you were way nicer when you were four.'

'do you want to do my homework for me?'

your aunt camila laughs. 'i'm happy to do it with you, if you want.'

you, like, really don't want to do your math homework, but nora had wanted to come hang out at your house tomorrow and she makes you so nervous it's hard to focus. 'i want to get it done fast, so that would be sweet.' you scoot your chromebook and graph paper closer to your aunt. 'thank you.'

'does this speeding through math have anything to do with —' she looks around to make sure no one is listening, even though you're the only ones in the lounge — 'your girlfriend?'

horrifically you feel yourself blush. 'nora isn't — she's — ugh.'

'have you told your moms yet?'

'suddenly, trig seems so appealing.'

your aunt laughs but grants you a little grace, thank fucking god. you work for a while and, with your aunt explaining things patiently and clearly, you're just about to finish when both of your moms, a little surprisingly, come into the lounge.

'hey, tai,' your mama says, kissing you on the top of the head softly.

'what's up, kid?' your mom grins and squeezes your shoulder. you don't remember being adopted — you were just a baby anyway — but every time your mom smiles at you like that, or your mama gently corrects your form when you're sparring, or they both listen to you clumsily practice a new piece on the violin, before your fingers have gotten the hang of the notes you don't know yet — you think you're the luckiest person in the world.

your mom glances over your shoulder as your mama goes to, presumably, gather their things. 'one, my surgery got canceled — my patient had a fever, so you're stuck with both of us tonight.'

'however will i survive.'

your mom rolls his eyes. 'you're lucky you're cute.'

you know he knows you're kidding, but you still nudge his hip anyway and he ruffles your hair. 'two, did you finish your math?'

'i have, like, two more? but aunt cam helped a lot.'

'you knew your stuff all on your own,' she says, which is relatively generous but makes you feel better about your test in two weeks.

your mama comes over with her neat overnight duffel and your mom's messy cotton tote. 'does this efficiency with math have anything to do with your girlfriend coming over tomorrow?'

your aunt cam laughs — total traitor — and your mom grins, tapping. your chair with her cane when you groan and hide your face in your hands. 'i was gonna tell you guys, i swear.'

your mom rubs your back gently. 'you are your mother's daughter.'

'i'm adopted,' you whine.

your mama laughs. 'nurture is so strong, my love.'

she starts gathering your things too, straightening your backpack, and normally you would scoff and ask her to stop, because you're fourteen and way too old for that. but you love them both, a lot, and, like. your folders were out of the order you like — your class schedule, which your mama has memorized too — so you don't say anything.

'tai, since we're both off now, want to go get some pizza at roberta's?' she asks you, slipping into a fleece that's definitely your mom's — department of neurosurgery embroidered on it, but whatever. it's an enticing offer; your favorite.

'what's the catch.'

'we gotta put olives on half,' your mom says, handing you your coat as you stand.

'deal.'

'and you have to tell us about how you got together with nora.'

'i'm gonna run away. i swear.'

your moms and your aunt laugh — you love them so much you don't want to go to college out of the city; they're your favorite people in the whole entire world — but you pout for posterity. you grumble as you go to the car, and then while you're waiting in a booth for your order.

'out with it.' your mom grins.

your mama pats your hand and amends, 'if you're ready.'

you take a deep breath, but then you smile. 'okay, i've been dying to tell you guys.'

your moms grin.

[harlowsbby]

Song association

“What? You literally cheated Jack, you’re a cheater you cheated!!” Being on the road all day had its ups and downs and finding ways to keep everyone entertained before arriving to your next destination was hard until you discovered a certain game.

“What? I didn’t cheat you’re just mad I grabbed the stuffed animal first!” Jack yelled back at you, Neelam sighed and rubbed her forehead she felt bad for the driver.

Ace and You thought it was a brilliant idea to play a game called song association while waiting for the time to fly. The minute you started the game you instantly regretted it.

Song association is a game where someone plays a quick snippet of a song and the two players going against one another have to say the artist singing the song in order to win a point.

Right now, it was Jack and You up against each other, each opponent goes up to ten points and the winner who teaches ten points first goes on to the next round.

“Okay since the both of you are tied one last round and the winner goes against Urban.”

Ace scrolled through Neelam’s playlist before picking on Doja Cat’s song Say So, the minute the melody started playing you already knew the song but of course Jack with his long arms was able to grab the stuffed animal first.

He froze for a second not really remembering who sung this song. “See you don’t even know the song and you grabbed the bear.”

“It is.. is this in the party by flo milli?” He asked you as well as Neelam both started laughing there was no way he was being serious.

“Jack, are you kidding me, right? We totally just lost.” Urban told him, you happily took the bear from Jack before answering. “This song is Say So by Doja Cat, am I correct Urban?” Your eyes shimmered with glee when he told you that you were of course right.

“You only one because I don’t listen to Doja Cat like that but if it did trust I would’ve won baby.”

“You’re just a sore loser and you know it but who do I go against now?”

“That’ll be me baby you know I know anything and everything about music.” Druski came from behind you and Jack and Urban cheered.

“Yeah, everything about rap music and we aren’t doing any rap songs.” You told him. “Besides the girls are ahead and the guy’s well you guys need to catch up.”

“What’s the score again?” Druski asked Neelam.

“The girls have a total of ten and the guys have a total of eight, whoever gets to fifteen points first wins.”

“What the hell? Have you two even been trying?” Druski asked Urban and Jack.

“I mean we’ve tried but it’s hard trying to think of a song and the artist within a matter of seconds.” Jack tried to defend himself and Urban, but Druski wasn’t trying to hear it.

“Alright well we need to catch up and quickly, so Neelam plays the next song.” Neelam did exactly that surprisingly Drusk was beating you he was naming the song and artist like it was nothing to him and before you knew it the two of you were tied fourteen to fourteen.

“Wow looks like someone caught up quickly, are you getting scared Y/N? You scared me and the boys are going to win.” Druski taunted you making you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please I would’ve won a long time ago if it wasn’t for you joining the team, besides I bet money I win the final round.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that but enough chit chat Neelam, I need you to play the last and final song.” Druski told her and she nodded before skimming through her playlist trying to find the perfect song that’ll have you both thinking.

After a few minutes she finally picked the perfect song the introduction for A thousand miles started playing, you looked at Neelam with your eyebrows furrowed.

“What song is this?” You asked her and her mouth immediately flew open. “You know this song Y/N it’s from a classic movie that everyone loves and dresses up for on Halloween.”

“That’s cheating you can’t give out hints!” Urban yelled and Jack agreed with him.

“Fine! But someone needs to answer before the timer runs out.” Druski quickly snatched the stuffed animal that laid on the table before answering the question.

“This song is A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton and the only reason I know this song just like anybody else should know is became it came from the best movie ever, White Chicks.” He states proudly before smiling. 

“What? You didn’t even need to name the song you’re just fucking extra.” You pouted. “You know I had to double it.” He stuck his tongue out you poured and went and flopped on the couch.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win baby but I guess you just have to do better next time.”

“The only reason you three won was because Neelam picked the easiest song she should’ve done Adele or something.” You were a sore loser you absolutely hated losing you’ve been like since a child.

“Don’t forget the bet Y/N you have to do whatever Jack and I say for the next 24 hours.” Urban reminded you.

“Like I don’t do that already?” You told him but weren’t about to be sore and cry about it for the next 24 hours you sadly did anything and everything they said and got them anything they wanted.

“Oh baby if you don’t mind can you actually make me some chicken I kinda want some chicken and broccoli for dinner, what do you think Urban?” Jack asked Urban in a taunting tone, you stood behind them an annoyed look displayed on your face.

“Actually some chicken and broccoli sounds wonderful Jack, I’m trying to watch my figure anyways.”

“Oh and maybe a bit of peanut butter on the side you know that’s how I like it baby.” You gave them both a tight smile.

“Of course anything for you two.”

“Thank you baby but before you go can I get a kiss?” He puckered up his lips. “Sure you can have a kiss but close your eyes.” He smiled and closed his eyes waiting for you to kiss up, you quickly picked up your dog Chloe and brought her close to Jack’s lips.

“Are you ready Jack?” “I’m always ready for some kisses by you baby.” You bit your lip as you brought Chloe closer to Jack’s lips before having her kiss his lips.

“Damn baby you have literally so much lip gloss on.” You couldn’t help but to burst into a fit of laughter Jack opened his eyes and that’s when he noticed Chloe in your hands.

“I know you didn’t Y/N.”

“Oh but I did Jackman. That’s what you get for bossing me around I’m done being your little servant Urban and You can both kick rocks.” You stomped up the stairs before slamming the door shut.

“So I guess we aren’t getting any chicken?” Urban asked Jack who was busy cleaning his lips off.

“Urban shut up.”

( something I did for fun 💗 )

[tadpolesonalgae]

“maybe it’ll turn out to be a wonderful meal they all bond over 🥳”

now tabby, you know damn well…

anyways, thinking about the next chapter, and there’s something i’d like to chime in on. when i was 14, i attempted suicide, and for me, being around family make me super uncomfortable, to the point where when i was around them and they were asking me questions i’d just go non-verbal. like full on armadillo into myself, under a table, refusing to say or do anything. i feel like reader and i are SUPER alike (or at least i used to be super like her) so i think it’d be interesting to see what here reaction will be when she’s surrounded by everyone at a family dinner, essentially forced to socialize. i’d also like to say that in the immediate few weeks after i was let out of the hospital, i was sort of hot and cold with how i was feeling. like one day i’d wake up feeling like death itself was sitting on my chest, but then the next, i’d be awake at 6am, hop out of bed, and immediately start doing things to better myself. and on some of those days, i’d do and say reckless things (i’m like 95% sure i was basically just manic). one time, relatively soon after the incident, i was being lectured by my dad about schoolwork and i snapped and called him an asshole straight to his face; something i NEVER would have done before, and everyone in the family was just in shock because everyone, including myself, had never expected me to act in such a way. immediately after i said it though, i reverted back to my usual self and ran away and hid under a table locked in my room and didn’t speak to anything for a while after that. i guess the point i’m trying to make here is; suicide attempts can do weird things to people’s emotions, everything has essentially come bubbling to the surface, so i’d sort of like to see reader acting in a few unexpected ways. i don’t want a 180 degree spin on her character, i just want some of those unexpected snaps to come out. like i could totally see mor saying something vaguely bitchy-ish and reader saying “oh fuck you” on instinct or something, completely blindsiding everyone at the table, even herself, and essentially breaking down and reverting back to her timid manner immediately after like “oh my gosh i’m so sorry i don’t know where that came from”

anyways, yah, i love the story, you’re doing such a great job expressing everyone’s emotions, like the whole situation is just super nuanced and you’re doing a great job at showing it, i truly just love your writing <3

-🌁

‘now tabby, you know damn well…’

🫣😭😭😭

I have no idea why anyone would be concerned about what could unfold over a family dinner with Mor and reader sat so close to one another

‘to the point where when i was around them and they were asking me questions i’d just go non-verbal.’

Okay, first of all, I am so sorry you ever had to experience a low like that and you have all my respect and any warmth I can offer for managing to make it through to where you are now, I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it was to get past that and live, but I’m happy you’ve made it to now and will continue onwards 🧡💛

Second of all though, I wanted to mention that I haven’t heard anyone else experience the silence like that? I think fourteen is also hands down the worst age to be for a lot of people for some reason, and while mine was from anxiety and not depression, similar moments happened? Just kind of shutting down in social situations specifically around family and being unable to respond? I do wonder if it’s some kind of coping mechanism, or a form a dissociation to distance oneself from the present to feel safer?

‘i’d also like to say that in the immediate few weeks after i was let out of the hospital, i was sort of hot and cold with how i was feeling.’

Even in day-to-day life, I have to admit I find it strange how swiftly emotions can change? Or even just waking up in a bad mood that you can’t shake no matter how many hot meals you have, or how clean your room is, or how many showers you take? And it just kind of clings to you, waiting for something bad to happen? It’s so unhelpful and difficult to cope with so I’m sorry you had to go through those likely turbulent emotions :/

‘(i’m like 95% sure i was basically just manic)’

So was it similar to rapidly swinging between depressive and manic episodes? I mean, to an extent I could see why after having been through such intense emotions that it would take a while to begin feeling semi-like yourself again?

‘i guess the point i’m trying to make here is; suicide attempts can do weird things to people’s emotions, everything has essentially come bubbling to the surface, so i’d sort of like to see reader acting in a few unexpected ways.’

I agree with emotions becoming pretty volatile and unpredictable after a suicide attempt from a logical standpoint, however I would like to say(?) theorise(?) I feel like those ‘snappy’ moments weirdly tend to come out around people you’re close with, so I couldn’t see it happening with Mor? That being said, I do have some ideas in mind for some stuff that relates to these slightly out-of-the-blue behaviours

‘anyways, yah, i love the story, you’re doing such a great job expressing everyone’s emotions, like the whole situation is just super nuanced and you’re doing a great job at showing it, i truly just love your writing <3’

I really appreciate your reassurance, but I do hope it isn’t bringing up any bad memories for you :/

Obviously there are heavy spots in the story, and inevitably I think because emotions can manifest in different ways in different people, there might be some parts that resonate with you, while others that seem strange or out of character, but I hope that for the most part the story is fairly fluid and maybe (I’m hoping) for some people it may turn out to something to find some semblance of comfort in? Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself though 🧡💛

[courtney-deserved-better]

my fair lady: part fourteen - a gwourtney choose your own adventure!

(part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen) (read on ao3)

no poll this time, because this is the last chapter of my fair lady! enjoy!

“If we’re talking about truth bombs, let’s start with how Noah totally has a crush on Alejandro,” Gwen says loudly.

Internally, she cringes. She’s not quite sure where that came from—aside from a gut instinct to not let Heather spill the beans about her feelings for Courtney—but it feels like she’s stooping to Heather’s level, trying to get other people tangled up in the drama.

“Excuse me?” Noah splutters.

Alejandro simply shrugs. “Why is that a surprise? Everyone here has a crush on me. Even those who claim to hate me.”

He shoots a significant look at Heather, who gags.

“You really are the new Justin,” Courtney says to Alejandro.

“I have no idea who that is.”

“I do not have a crush on that eel,” Noah snaps, “and if I had my way, he’d be the one going home tonight, but since a certain pair of gal pals decided to—”

“HA!” Heather shrieks.

“What is wrong with you?” Gwen asks.

“Gal pals? Come on, enough with the euphemisms, people! Gwen and Courtney are totally—”

Before Heather gets the chance to finish her declaration, Courtney lunges out of her seat and pushes her off the plane.

Alejandro sticks his head out the door. 

“Good riddance!” he trills.

“I hate you all!” Heather shouts back, quickly descending.

Chris just watches them all with a massive grin on his face. “Well. That was certainly interesting!”

Ignoring him, Alejandro shoots a cool look at Noah. “You’re next, cerebrito.”

“I do not have a crush on you,” is all Noah can say back, as Alejandro stalks out of the room.

“Sorry,” Gwen tells him. “Heather was gonna say something about me, and I panicked.”

“Whatever. I’m more pissed about you two turning on us.”

“Oh, we didn’t fully turn on you,” Courtney says. “Alejandro’s a much stronger competitor, so he’ll be our next vote.”

“And then it’s just me and you two… fuck, I hate that that’s smart.”

Chris cackles. “This keeps getting better and better!”

“Stuff it, McLean,” Gwen and Noah chorus, the latter already trudging out of the room.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

After the chaos of that elimination ceremony, Courtney shuts herself in the confessional. It’s the only place where she can have true privacy. And she certainly needs it to mull over what just happened. Heather had said—

Well. She was about to say something concerning Courtney and Gwen before Courtney shoved her off the plane. It hadn’t exactly been intentional—that is to say, Courtney had been operating on pure instinct and hadn’t quite realized what she’d done until she’d already done it.

Not that she regrets it.

After what Noah had implied—

Courtney squirms uncomfortably. Did everyone know? About her feelings for Gwen? She didn’t even know herself until Alejandro had brought it up. Ugh, this was her whole thing with Duncan all over again, people teasing her for something she hadn’t realized yet. 

Except things are different with Gwen, because Gwen doesn’t like her back. Probably. Maybe, Sure, they’re actually good friends now, but that doesn’t mean Gwen has feelings for her. Heck, until a few hours ago, Courtney was convinced Gwen would try and get with Duncan if given the chance. Well—

“Oops!”

Speak of the Devil.

“Sorry about that,” Gwen says, in the doorway of the confessional. “I think I busted the lock. Good thing you weren’t peeing or something.”

“In here?” Courtney scoffs. 

“I’m pretty sure some people do.”

“They’re idiots.”

“Oh, definitely.”

When Gwen reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, Courtney spots her sunburnt hand. “How’s the injury?”

“A lot better,” Gwen says, holding it out. “It barely hurts anymore. Thanks to your first aid.”

“Good! But let me take a look at it.”

Courtney is cradling Gwen’s hand in her own when her brain finally catches up to what she’s doing. Her cheeks burn, and she silently thanks her complexion for not easily giving away her blush. Unlike Gwen, whose entire face goes red when she’s embarrassed, and it’s honestly really cute—

Yep. Courtney’s definitely blushing.

“Your hand is healing quickly,” Courtney says. “That’s, um… that’s good.”

She doesn’t drop Gwen’s hand, and Gwen doesn’t pull away.

“Yeah,” Gwen says. “Um. Can we talk?”

“Sure. In here, or—”

“In here,” Gwen says, fully stepping into the confessional and shutting the door behind her. As she hops up on the counter, Courtney follows suit and sits down on the closed toilet lid.

“I think you’re blocking the camera,” Courtney says.

“That’s fine. I don’t want this footage getting used anyway.”

“…What exactly is this footage going to be about?”

Gwen looks down. “I told you I wasn’t interested in Duncan.”

“Oh.” Courtney’s stomach flips. “Well, if you’ve changed your mind—”

Gwen’s head shoots up at that. “No! No, that’s not—no. I… I’m interested in someone else, actually.”

“…Who?”

“I think Heather and Noah made that pretty clear.”

“Wait… you like me?”

“Yeah. And I totally get it if you don’t feel the same way, but I wanted you to know—”

Courtney leaps to her feet. “I spent hours collecting bird poop just to help your hand! Of course I feel the same way!”

Gwen stares at her. 

Hands clasped over her mouth in shock of her own confession, Courtney stares back.

“I guess, uh… I guess I should’ve been less surprised when Alejandro pointed out I had a crush on you tonight.”

“Everybody except us really fucking knew, huh?” Gwen laughs a little giddily. “Man, that’s… both hilarious and embarrassing.”

“I guess it is.”

Courtney smiles at her.

Gwen smiles back, before blushing—she’s so red, it’s adorable—and ducking her head. “So. Uh. What are we supposed to do about it?”

“Well, dating on reality television is a terrible idea,” Courtney says. “And we both learned that the hard way.”

“Oh God, don’t remind me.”

“I really want to win this season, Gwen. And everyone knows I’m… I’m willing to get pretty nasty if that’s what it takes. I don’t want to hurt you, but…”

“…I know,” Gwen says quietly. “Not to mention, if everyone already knows how we feel about each other, that makes it really easy for them to try and turn us against each other.”

“So we’re in a bit of a tricky spot.”

“Yeah.”

Courtney sighs.

Gwen sighs, her breath brushing against Courtney’s neck. That’s right. They’re very, very close, Gwen still sitting on the counter and Courtney standing right in front of her. 

“I know we’ll probably have to come up with a strategy at some point,” Courtney says. “But for right now, I really, really want to kiss you.”

Leaning forward, Gwen whispers, “What’s stopping you?”

Courtney meets her in the middle, lips brushing and then pressing against Gwen’s own. Gwen’s mouth is warm, and soft, and a little greasy from her lipstick, but Courtney couldn’t care less. 

Kissing Duncan was like watching a firework burst. Kissing Gwen is like sinking into a hot bath.

They keep kissing, Gwen’s legs wrapped around Courtney’s torso, Courtney’s hands resting on Gwen’s waist.

This isn’t going to be easy. This show will do everything it can to tear them apart. Courtney and Gwen can’t stay in the confessional and kiss forever.

But that’s a problem for another time.

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 4 - Excerpt 2

“Scarlett! Kenneth!”

We both snapped our heads up.

Rowan and Jolene were running into the room with nothing added to their visible person, which I thought was very unhelpful, considering the timing. They both looked a little anxious, and breathed as though they’d been running for their lives.

“About damn time,” I said.

Jolene spared me a withering glance before coming up a few feet in front of us and turning pointedly to Scarlett, “oh my God, you’re bleeding.”

I immediately looked at Scarlett, scanning her for injuries, and found a red cut at the base of her stomach, slowly but persistently oozing blood. The fabric around that area was torn and the blood didn’t do much in the way of staining it; the top was so dark that it omitted the colour of blood entirely. It could have just as easily been water making that dark patch on the cloth.

“It’s nothing,” Scarlett immediately told Jolene, not as if she was trying to assure the other girl, but more as if that was what she herself believed.

“It clearly isn’t nothing,” Jolene said. “Come on, let’s take you to Des-”

“I said I’m fine,” Scarlett snapped, yanking her arm away as Jolene tried to grip her elbow.

Jolene visibly grit her teeth. “And I said,” she replied, slowly and dangerously, “that you aren’t fine, so you’re going to come with us, and you are going to get yourself fixed up.”

The two girls glared at each other.

“I don’t remember giving you the right to tell me what to do,” Scarlett said, voice chilling, “and now is not the time for all that.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ll find that there is no better time than now, because you’ll need to hide that wound as quickly as possible,” Jolene retorted, eyes ablaze, “and even if that wasn’t the case, do I look like I give two shits?”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted, judging from the look on Scarlett’s face that things were about to get physical, “but where were you and Rowan, why did you leave, and what kept you away so long?”

“We went to bring ammo,” Jolene replied shortly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t need it?” I asked.

“Well, we didn’t know that Scarlett would pull a stunt like this when we got here,” Rowan replied, his gaze stuck intently on his sister.

“And what exactly was it that made you miss the entire show, come back only after it was over, and return completely empty-handed?” Scarlett inquired, still staring coldly at Jolene.

“Adam Forrest cornered us,” Rowan replied, “made us give up whatever weapons we had, and told us to go back to ‘the Teigen kid’. We had to do a lot of on-the-spot acting. He had a lot of questions.”

“How the hell did you run into him?” Scarlett asked, sparing the boy a glance. “He’s always stuck behind that desk of his.”

“Well, not today,” Jolene grumbled. “Just our luck. Took a lot to get him off our trail.” She grimaced.

“I’m sorry, who is Adam Forrest?” I asked.

Rowan and Jolene swung their heads in unison to look at me.

“He’s a celebrity of sorts,” Jolene answered, “works at the Chambers as an Investigator, total workaholic, lives for his job. In fact, he’s the one who uncovered that the fourteen people killed at Bleak House were murdered by Victor Garamond a year ago, when he was eighteen, youngest ever to be promoted to the Second Chamber.”

I didn’t bother asking about the ‘Chambers’ situation right just then. I was suddenly tired, physically and mentally, the pain of neglected injury coming back to me in bruising spurts. Like I’d predicted, my palms were bleeding sporadically, and some places on my arms and body hurt so much that they burnt a little to touch. I was pretty sure I was going to be covered in black and blue weals when I woke up the next morning.

Tiredly I said, “Let’s just go back up.”

Jolene, Rowan and Scarlett all looked at me, but I couldn’t care less about their staring as I pushed past the group and made my way to the door in a slow, laborious pace.

I stopped when I got there and turned to them. “Are you going to lead the way, or...?”

***************************

Okay this is the first time I've done a back-to-back excerpt, and I'm sorry that this one's so short, but hey, new character unlocked, so. Whether Adam Forrest or Tyler James Thorne, for that matter, are just side-characters or actually have significance to the main storyline, I'll leave it up to you to guess...

Taglist: @jeahreading, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay, @mayaheronthorn